pretty sure this is from the set of these three

Shout out to blue spotted salamanders

 Say hello to the blue spotted salamander (Abystoma laterale).

Just… wow.  I don’t even know where to begin with these animals.  I am just IN LOVE (and pretty miffed at laws for not letting me keep several dozen).   There are actually all-female populations of these beauties and they don’t just clone themselves.  Technically, these all-female populations are hybrids. It’s just.

Look, it’s honestly the weirdest form of reproduction I’ve ever come across so obviously i gotta tell tumblr about it: when  one of these hybrids wants to make salamanderlings, she has to find a male of a different species ( the species she’s related to) and breeds with him.  And guys?  Guys?  She doesn’t even USE THE SPERM’S GENETICS.  That’s almost always just discarded.  Instead, the sperm simply helps her eggs develop in the first place.

like damn.  That’s COLD.  It’s called kleptogenesis.

This doesn’t always happen though.  Although the sperm technically STILL doesn’t fertilize the egg, the genetics are used anyway, which is how we get hybrids.  This is part of the reason why ALL Abystoma are banned from California: they’re just too damn good at stealing manly lizard genes and creating hybrids all over the place.

Entire new SPECIES have been created like this, and are still reproducing like this now. The Tremblay’s salamander (Abystoma tremblayi) is a hybrid between the blue spotted above and Jefferson salamanders (Abystoma jeffersonianum).  The SAME COMBINATION of A. laterale and A. jeffersonianum has ALSO created the Silvery Salamander (Abystoma platineum).  Just.  How amazing is that?  Same species go in, entirely new thing comes out.  The Tremblay’s and Silvery also contain THREE sets of chromosomes instead of just two.

to use a game reference, I’m pretty sure these guys are basically the Asari from Mass Effect.

[x]

I’m a sucker for set-dressing (and also masculine domesticity), so my eyes were drawn right to the refrigerator. It’s a faraway shot. but I’m pretty sure that Juggie’s got three photos of his dad tacked up on the fridge there.

(I’m not crying, you’re crying. Maybe we’re both crying?)

Bottom right looks like maybe him and FP on the bike, and top photo definitely looks like FP in a baseball cap - @fredheads, are you responsible for this?

Scott has been staring longingly at a girl across the bar for two hours and forty-nine minutes. Stiles knows. He’s been keeping track.

“This is ridiculous, man,” Stiles says, not for the first time. “You’re a catch. You’re amazing. You’re perfect. Just go talk to her. I’m sure she’ll be happy if you do.”

Scott turns to him, wide-eyed. “But what if she’s not happy? What if I’m just another creep in a bar hitting on a pretty girl? I want her to know I respect her.”

“By completely ignoring her. Solid plan, Scott.”

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That Damn Paul McCartney

This is for @colinoslayme who requested “we bumped into each other in the street and you were grinning like a cocky asshole the whole time so i stalked off only to realize i’m wearing your shirt ” This got way more emo than I intended but here it is. :)

Rated T. 3k words.

Atrocious, blasphemous, contemptible, disgraceful, erroneous. She could hit every letter of the alphabet with words that have been used to describe her. Not for the aspects of her life that usually riled a person’s feathers: having a child at the age of 17, keeping that child, going to prison, swearing off any serious form of relationship. No, the thing people find most unbelievable about her is her dislike of The Beatles.

She doesn’t hate The Beatles. If Mary Margaret were to play a song in the car, she wouldn’t throw a fit… but she would politely ask her to play something different. If a song were to come on the radio in her own car though, she wouldn’t hesitate to smash the tuner to a different station. And it’s possible that she may have once called into a radio station to complain about the abysmal taste of whoever requested that damn yellow submarine song.

“You drive a yellow bug. You lived in it for a while, didn’t you? How do you not like Yellow Submarine?” What a good question, Shelly in the prison cafeteria. Why wouldn’t she like a song that reminds her of the time she spent homeless, living in a tiny, cramped car that lacked viable air conditioning, with her deadbeat boyfriend?

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“Buried” (Chapter Sixteen)

Things get crazy again! Also, the end scene of this chapter had me laughing out loud. This is supposed to be a fairly important chapter, but I couldnt resist an Indiana Jones comment lol 

ADDITIONAL CHAPTERS HERE

Enjoy :)

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

Stark Tower– Several Weeks Later

“Tony Starks office.” Pepper answered the phone from where she sat on Tony’s couch, her legs folded primly, never stopping the furious typing on her computer. “Ms. Potts speaking.”

“Ms. Potts, this is Aaron Brown from Levy & Browns Mortuary. I am calling to ask about a request one of the family members made in regards to the—”

“The answer is yes!” Tony interrupted from across the room, hitting the conference button on his phone. “Mr. Levy, Tony Stark here. Anything at all those families want, you get them. I don’t care how much it costs. When I told them I would pay for the funerals of their loved ones, I meant it. Whatever they want, anything at all, do you understand?”

“Yes, of course, Mr. Stark. It’s just that—” the man on the other line hesitated and Tony dragged his fingers through his hair in agitation.

“What? What is it? Do you need a check before hand? Pepper write a check, have it delivered now.”

“Of course, Tony.” Pepper was already pulling out her checkbook. “Mr. Levy, how much do you need in advance? Give me an approximate amount and I’ll send the check over tonight.”

“We are already in excess of–”  Tony shut off the conference button so he couldn’t hear it anymore and leaned back in his chair, staring out the windows of his office, pulling Bucky’s card out and flipping it between his fingers.

Not because he wanted to talk to Bucky.

Because he missed Steve.

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agenderraskel  asked:

Could I convince you to write FrostIronWinter? All three trauma babies snuggled up together, drinking tea under a fuzzy blanket because none of them like to be cold and ever since Tony informed Loki that his accent was vaguely English; Loki has been obsessed with English culture.

You don’t have to convince me! I like WinterIron with pretty much anyone added and I’ve been a fan of those three since I read a series about them a couple of months back. (Also not sure this is what you had in mind but I tried.)


Tony wasn’t tired. Fine, maybe he was a little tired. Maybe.

Tired enough not to have heard FRIDAY announcing his visitor at least, to let out a startled “Eeeeep!” when the soldering iron is suddenly taken from his hands, set down carefully, before he’s lifted in a strong grip. Tony flails, would have called for the suit already if not for how intimately familiar the hands holding him feel.

That one of them is made of metal is a decent clue as well.

“Buuucky!“ Tony whines, squirms in an attempt to reach for his soldering iron, but the grip doesn’t let up. Instead he’s being lifted, carried away from his workstation.

It takes Tony’s brain a full two seconds to process this, which is a warning sign all on its own. But that’s besides the point.

“Bucky!” Tony calls again, sharper this time. “Let me down! I’m not a child! I don’t need you to drag me out of my workshop, I’m perfectly capable–”

Bucky doesn’t slow down, doesn’t even acknowledge Tony’s rant until they’re in the elevator and the door is closing behind them with a soft wooshing noise. Tony likes that noise. He’s had it installed into every door possible (and even a few empty doorways) just so he gets to listen to it every day.

He doesn’t like it very much right now.

“What the fuck, Bucky?!”

He’s past annoyed and gone straight to furious. He doesn’t need anyone to babysit-kidnap him and really, Bucky should know better, what the ever loving fuck–

“Loki is sad,” Bucky finally says, voice devoid of any inflection.

Yeah. Sure. Tony scowls. Like he is gonna fall for that I-was-brainwashed-by-HYDRA-now-I-can’t-talk-and-explain-my-actions-like-a-normal-person bullshit. Tony happens to know that Bucky can talk just fine. 

It’s a struggle to find the right words sometimes, but just last week when the room caved into itself around Tony, Bucky was there by his side, talking about the pros and cons of Stelena vs Delena for half an hour, just to distract him.

(Which worked fine, in case anyone is wondering. Bucky dared to suggest Stelena would be a decent option and Tony just couldn’t let that stand.)

“And what does that have to do with you kidnapping me from my workstation?” Tony snaps impatiently. Or exhausted. At this point, it’s hard to tell the difference.

A small frown curls around Bucky’s upper lip, but otherwise he remains unmoved, much to Tony’s frustration. 

“You’re the best cuddler,” is all Bucky has to say in his defence, like that is a reasonable explanation. Tony hates that he can already feel his (justified) annoyance crumbling.

Then the elevator stops, prompting Bucky to carry him towards the common living room. And–okay. As soon as Tony catches sight of Loki, he gets why Bucky interrupted workshop time.

Loki is sitting hunched over on the couch, green eyes dark with something that isn’t quite sorrow, a frown on his face that remind Tony of the day the demigod tried to brainwash him with a glow stick. Good times.

Before Tony has time to fully catalogue the signs of Loki’s distress, Bucky drops him in Loki’s lap. Literally drops him. 

Tony groans because that hurt, alright, it’s not like Loki is made of pillows and plush. Loki on the other hand seems to barely notice the sudden weight, save a quiet huff of breath. There’s no mocking, no insults, just hands clinging to Tony’s waist, and that’s how Tony knows how bad this is.

Whatever it is.

He shifts–to find a comfortable position as well as ease the dull ache in his bottom from his less than comfortable landing–curls one arm around Loki’s neck, the other one around his back. The position allows him to rest his chin on Loki’s shoulder and glare at Bucky’s blank face while simultaneously rubbing slow circles across Loki’s back.

How come Tony, who is the least mature person he has ever met, has to be the functional adult in this–whatever it is that they have?

After a long moment of glaring, Bucky finally cracks, begins to fidget restlessly. It’s better than the creepy motionlessness though. He still falls into that mask too often for Tony’s comfort.

“I don’t–” Bucky gestures helplessly, a wounded look in his eyes that conveys how much he’s struggling with the situation just fine.

“Loki is sad, Bucky,” Tony says in the calmest voice he can manage, never once breaking his (hopefully) soothing ministrations. Breaks the emotional mess down into simple words, to help Bucky regain his footing. The last thing he needs is Bucky to lash out again because being, feeling, thinking becomes too much. Simple protocols are easier for him still, sometimes.

“What do we do when people are said?”

“Make them tea,” Bucky repeats automatically, then turns towards the kitchen to do exactly that.

Really, whoever thought Tony would be the right person to help a brainwashed prisoner of war to become a human being again should be shot. Or at the very least subjected to Bucky’s When-people-are-happy-we-bake-them-something-sweet cakes. Baking was still on the To Be Improved list, and for good reason.

“You alright, Mr Evil Overlord?” Tony murmurs once he’s certain Bucky doesn’t try to go off and kidnap a clown to lift the mood. Again.

Loki huffs a laugh under his breath but stays otherwise quiet, which is so unlike him that Tony feels a twinge of genuine worry in his chest. Which sucks. Tony doesn’t approve of genuine emotions at all.

“I am fine,” Loki murmurs after another moment, his grip on Tony tightening momentarily before easing into what an uninformed bystander might call ‘affectionate’.

Tony doesn’t know what he’s supposed to call it. He buries his face in Loki’s chest instead.

He waits for Loki to continue, but he doesn’t say anything. Tony finds himself listening to the sounds of Bucky moving around in the kitchen, the steady beat of Loki’s heart, their breathing. It’s…

Nice.

Then Bucky joins them with three steaming mugs of tea. Tony wrinkles his nose, eyes the cups suspiciously. Everyone knows he prefers coffee.

Honestly, he’d suspect the two of them were just trying to lure him out of his workshop, if not for how upset Bucky was. As much as Loki likes messing with them, he’d never take it so far. Not over something as silly as cuddling.

“You’re not gonna talk about it, are you?” Tony mumbles around a careful sip of tea–though Bucky knows better by now than to hand him anything hot enough to burn his tongue.

Loki blinks, the picture of clueless innocence. He arches an eyebrow at Tony and really, how the demigod can hold a cup of tea that regally while Tony is stretched out over his lap is a mystery.

“I have no idea what you are referring to, Anthony,” Loki says with a masterfully added edge of curiosity. As though he hadn’t sunken back into that strange state of utter stillness, so similar to Bucky’s own behaviour from time to time, that never fails to freak Bucky and Tony out. 

“Of course you don’t.” Tony makes no effort to hide his eye-roll. “Now come on, Winter Boy, cuddle me!” he demands when Bucky doesn’t join them, remains standing instead. “I need at least two cuddle buddies at all times!”

Sometimes the closeness is too much for Bucky, sometimes he’s just insecure. Tony can never tell what it is, so as always he pushes and waits to be told to back off. 

It doesn’t happen this time.

Instead Bucky carefully sets his tea down on the small coffee table and sits down next to Loki, so close that their shoulders are brushing against each other. Pulls Tony’s feet into his lap until he lies sprawled across them (thankfully Loki’s quick reflexes save Tony’s cup of tea).

Then Loki’s slender fingers sneak into Tony’s hair, skilfully card through the curls–he needs a hair cut–and massage the skin beneath. Tony can feel himself melting into the gentle touches, turns until his face is buried in Loki’s stomach, Bucky’s hand resting on his hip, anchoring him. And with a sigh of pure bliss Tony closes his eyes and relaxes. Lets go of a tension he hadn’t even realised he has been holding in him.

Sleep comes easily after that. It always does, with Loki and Bucky close to him. Steady and dangerous and maddeningly complex and safe.


Okay, that’s it for now. I hope you all like it, especially of course @agenderraskel! Basically (because I’m not sure I conveyed that very well) Loki had some sort of panic attack/flashback/terrible mood and Bucky doesn’t know how to cheer him up so he places a Tony in his lap. I thought it was kinda cute but I also was ready to go to sleep an hour ago so I might not be the best judge right now.

Also Stelena/Delena is a Vampire Diaries reference I won’t apologise for. It was the first show that came to mind *shrug* I don’t mind either pairing by the way, so in case anyone has strong opinions, I’m not trying to bash Stelena. Bucky just needed to distract Tony for a while.

Added: I JUST REALISED I FORGOT TO MENTION THEIR ISSUES WITH BEING COLD DAMN IT. HOW ABOUT I WRITE A SECOND PART THAT MENTIONS IT? I’M SO SORRY!!!

Kidge Week, Days 1 and 3 (Jealousy, Change)

Strolls up with unedited fic for Day 1 of @kidgeweek two days late, desperately clutching an empty can of Red Bull

Fandom: Voltron Legendary Defender
Paring: Keith x Pidge
Words: 4528
Tags: Jealousy, post-war, swearing, innuendo, translation errors

Read part 2 here

“Hangin’ in there, man?”

For someone who out-massed and out-muscled most, Hunk could move with surprising delicacy when he set his mind to it. Keith had been in the line of fire - figuratively and literally - enough by now not to startle when Hunk’s voice piped up right at his side, but the serene smile on Hunk’s face told Keith that he’d been caught. His fixation on the beings clustered throughout the ballroom had left him blind to Hunk’s approach.

“I’m fine,” was Keith’s curt reply.

Six years was a long enough time for both to know that Keith meant no offense and Hunk took none; Hunk laughed and pointed to the small plate in Keith’s left hand.

“You may be fine, but what about that poor napkin?”

Keith’s right hand stilled. The napkin on his plate had been torn into a fine crumble, the victim of a racing mind and a need to fidget.

“I guess I’m a bit bored,” he conceded.

That wasn’t quite it though, and Keith’s words must have been even less convincing than his voice, given the way Hunk shook his head and let out a short hum. Keith sent up a prayer that Hunk would question no further, and for once the universe seemed to answer: Hunk opened his mouth, and at that exact moment, a familiar voice rose up from the other side of the room.

“Hunk! This one requests your presence for the purposes of an introduction!”

Even in a room crowded with aliens of all types, Shay stood out from the rest. Like Hunk, she towered over the more diminutive species present, and it was as impossible to miss her waving hand as it was to miss the way Hunk’s smile softened as he waved back.

“Well, I guess I gotta go over there for a bit, but try not to be a wallflower all night. Go ask Pidge to dance or something.”

Keith blinked, then whipped around to face Hunk, scowl fixed to deliver, but Hunk had already begun to leave as stealthily as he’d arrived.

“But no one is dancing!” Keith called after him.

“I know!”

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anonymous asked:

6 and 13, please!

6. who is your trash fave who is so problematic they probably have hate tumblrs dedicated to them

I’m pretty sure there are blogs set up in hate of Kylo Ren.

13. what is your heart-breakingist head canon

I’ll give you my top three:

(1) I still believe, in my heart of hearts, that while everyone knew Rogue One was responsible for the transmission of the Death Star plans, no one really knew who Rogue One was, which sentients were involved, what their names were or where they came from. Galen Erso is remembered as The Architect of Death, and some people recall he had a daughter—but Jyn Erso is a name lost to memory, buried in Mon Mothma’s reports. It takes Intel two months to realize they haven’t seen Captain Andor around lately, to wonder idly aloud before other concerns swallow them up. Bodhi Rook’s name was never known to the Rebels, and his family is informed he died in defecting. The only evidence that Chirrut and Baze existed burned up with Jedha and Scarif.

The stories and memorials make them into heroes, but they’re faceless, nameless. A different kind of forgetting.

.

(2) Han really does blame Leia and Leia’s connection to Vader for what happened with Ben—mostly because if he ever considered the roiling pit of misery and shame and self-loathing underneath, he’ll drown in it. (Han blames himself for everything, but that one is too big, he can’t. Not and go on living.) 

Leia blames herself, and also Luke, because she expected him to tell her he couldn’t handle things before it escalated. The hypocrisy of this occurs to her sometimes, in prickly uncomfortable ways.

Luke blames Ben, but Luke also fled to the other side of the galaxy and cut off all contact with sentient life.

Ben Kylo blames all of them, though how much he hates each for their part changes, depending on the day.

.

(3) Finn believes the Resistance will lose.

It’s not—he knows they’re right, that he’s defected to the side of the good. He doesn’t question that the General is morally superior to anything Hux or Phasma could ever be. But when he shuts his eyes, he can see F-squadron marching, thousands strong; a flotilla of TIE fighters roar overhead, armed with the most devastating firepower credits can buy. Starkiller wasn’t a fluke or an outlier, it was a natural extension of control. (Finn has never been reconditioned, but he’s seen others return from it. The First Order can dig its fingers into your brain and wipe you clean away; it makes sense that they could do the same with the galaxy.)

During training, they used to tell the cadets that their only choice was the First Order, or oblivion. Finn has made his choice.

For their anniversary, Magnus carves Taako a set of wooden spoons with intricate handles, in varying sizes, to go with the fancy wooden cutting board he made Taako for his birthday. He even does a set of measuring spoons in the exact proper measurements (he checked it three times over to make sure they’re accurate)

Taako loves them, immediately replacing the old store-bought stuff he had in his kitchen, even though they’re almost too pretty to use? It’s so perfect, something practical but entirely from the heart and made with love, and Magnus’ own two hands

The Deceitful Man | Harrison Osterfield

Summary: In hopes to surprise her boyfriend of two years, the reader finds out the truth about the Harrison Osterfield and how he is a deceitful man…

Warning: Language and mentions of cheating 

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield x reader

Type: Oneshot

Requested: @chrissycute528 

MASTERLIST


Originally posted by tomandharrisongifs

The days were all numbered, slowly counting down until the day Y/n would be able to be reunited with her boyfriend of two years. The days were long, especially since he was all the way in Atlanta (accompanying Tom who was filming for Spiderman: Homecoming) and she was all the way back in London. 

The weekly Skype calls became prolonged and overdue. Harrison’s excuse was that he had to work and Y/N found herself accepting this white lie. Recently, Y/N began to notice that when she called him, he seemed different. She didn’t know what was wrong but she brushed it off, thinking he was either just tired or stressed out.

It was becoming awkward, and it seemed that he was always anxious to get off the phone with his girlfriend. When they skyped each other, Harrison’s eyes were always diverted to something or someone off screen. He didn’t seem to be paying any attention to his girlfriend. His mind was elsewhere.

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Goodbye Kisses

Pt. 1 || Pt. 2 || Pt. 3 || Pt. 3.5 || Pt. 4 || Pt. 5 || Pt. 6 || Pt. 7 (final)

Jin x Reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: He was scared…he was scared of losing you over one stupid kiss

Word Count: 2958

Warning: cursing

Originally posted by seokjohn

The sunlight along the horizon was wearing thin marking the beginning of dusk. It wasn’t that late into the night, but you had insisted for the boys to go home and get some needed rest. They did have promotions starting tomorrow, and you didn’t want them to be all tired out staying late at your house warming party. 

“Wah, noona. Thanks for having us.” Namjoon smiled, his dimples revealing themselves on his cheeks.

You pat his back as he and the other boys stand at your door ready to leave, “It’s no problem, Joon. You guys are welcome over any time now that I got a bigger place.”

“I mean, I guess Jin-hyung is free to come over whenever he likes am I right?” Hoseok joked, poking Jin teasingly, “Hmm, I wonder if we should leave without Jin-hyung. Let the two love birds break in the apartment, what do ya think?”

Jin and you stand there, awkward with heat rushing to both your faces. Jungkook could sense the discomfort Hoseok’s joke was causing you,

“C’mon, hyung. Quit joking around.”

Hoseok looked at Jungkook with his trademark ‘nope’ face, “What? I was just kidding.” 

“Anyways, I think we’ve overstayed our welcome. Plus we got a busy day ahead of us tomorrow.” Yoongi butt in. Namjoon agreed with him and began to shoo the other members out of the house. Jin was the last to file out of your newly bought apartment, but before he could step out the door you pull his arm,

“Wait, Jinnie. I think you forgot something.” Jin was wide-eyed with confusion. He looked around and in his bag, but he was still confused,

“I think I have everything, jagi-ah.” 

“Oh really?” You smile and stand on your toes leaning so that your lips could collide with his. However, Jin, in a small panic, takes a step back just as you were about to kiss him. You blinked rapidly, obviously consumed with disappointed at his reluctance to give you a goodbye kiss. 

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Shit That Happened Freshman Year of College

I keep forgetting to post this, so here it is, my list of weird stuff from my first year at college, about six weeks late.

  • that kid who longboarded past me at like 7pm in a powdered wig (like, full-on George Washington style)
  • “Do you think Texas Roadhouse is open this early?” overheard in the dining hall at 8:30am
  • apple juice is second only to coffee in the hierarchy of drinks in the dining hall bc the orange juice tastes like shit
  • fire drill at 9pm the week before finals with 2 inches of snow outside and i was unable to put my shoes on in time, all because some asshole set off the alarm while smoking a joint
  • an impossible amount of guitar picks in improbable places throughout the first semester, including in my sock drawer at home, 4 hours away from my school
  • that time my roommate thought i had a GIANT container of cocaine but it was just lemonade mix (pretty sure she was three seconds from calling the cops on me)
  • that time the roommate’s boyfriend went back to his room after spending the night in our room and found half of his hall barricaded in his room bc one of the others had found a BB gun the night before and was without mercy
  • actually just anything involving The Bastards of A Wing (you’re welcome to ask for more specific stories, there’s a lot of them)
  • this conversation i had with a violinist
    • “You know, I’ve done the math, and I’m pretty sure that if i get hired by a strip club in Denver, I could probably make back my tuition twice over before the semester is finished.”
    • “That’s nearly a five hour drive one way, though.”
    • “Yeah, but the only other town big enough to have a semi-classy strip club is Salt Lake City, and I don’t think Mormons really go for that kind of thing.”
  • using face paint to do a very quick FAHC!Ryan cosplay for Halloween and accidentally making a little girl cry
  • the time i came back to my room, fully aware that my roommate and her boyfriend had had sex earlier, and when I walked in she gave me a shit-eating grin and said “guess who got something sticky all over the ceiling?” I almost turned around and left without another word, intending on spending the night in the library or something, but then he yells “I DROPPED MY SODA AND IT EXPLODED SHE’S TAKING IT OUT OF CONTEXT”
  • “Quantum Physics and Accounting are the only classes where you’ll truly get your mind blown.” some guy in my accounting 201 class
  • “Oh, by the way, Wyatt broke his phone on his nipple last night.” The next ten minutes were spent curled up on the floor in helpless laughter.
  • #musicmajors
    • “I bet i could pick you up.”
    • “Yeah, but can you pick up my tuba at the same time?”
  • the orchestra director doing Ricky Ricardo impressions when he got annoyed with the orchestra and we “made his Spanish come out”
  • this conversation I had with my friend in the middle of a restaurant
    • “Hey, do you like Nipplese food?”
    • “… do you mean Nepalese?”
    • “… oh. Yeah.”
  • [muffled Mexican rap music]
  • “I’m just a chocolate seller in Ireland! I don’t know how the Indian market works!” my marketing professor in an example i no longer remember the context of
  • that time someone yelled “do a barrel roll!” at a guy riding his bike down stone steps
  • [in heavy country accents] overheard while walking past the science building
    • “Pull that pin, Josh!”
    • “I did, gosh!”
    • “Alright, well, not good enough.”
  • the fucking school-approved stampede of actual cattle through the middle of campus on a Thursday morning
  • “[gentle gasp] The Property Brothers!” overheard in line in the dining hall, when they weren’t even playing on any of the TVs around?
  • [muffled shouting from the class next door] “NO, NO, LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THE HORSE INDUSTRY!”
  • overheard while walking to breakfast on a Friday morning
    • “Wow, you guys are up early.”
    • “We didn’t sleep.”
    • “Hey, same!”
  • that theater teacher who wore a kilt every day regardless of weather or wind speed
  • overheard between two extremely buff dudes while walking to class
    • “This is a Mighty Ducks jersey, man! It might be the most valuable thing in my closet!”
    • Might be? Motherfucker, it is!”
  • old lady ghost erotica
  • sheep on the quad. Why is there so much livestock on this campus?
  • “If you’re wearing a bandana, you’re at risk of being shot with a water gun.” overheard while entering the English building on a Tuesday morning
  • “Yeah, well, we don’t have a time machine to go back and see what happened, okay? The fact of the matter is, the Vietnamese kicked our collective asses.” overheard while waiting in line at the dining hall

honestly there was a lot more but I just didn’t write down some and this list is long enough already

I’m Never Gonna Dance Again (stenbrough)

no offense but this is the best thing ive ever written. if you read my post relating to this and wished for it to be real youre so welcome

@stanleyurisisalive THIS IS FOR YOU BBY

(this is nsfw btw!)


Stan and Bill had been taking their relationship slow. They were sixteen, and had never been with anyone else, so whenever they’d come close to having sex they’d pull apart and sit on opposite sides of the bed, making excuses and instead laying down to cuddle. This time, though, Bill’s parents were out for the night, and Stan had told him that he was ready. Bill had approached all of the losers earlier in the day, desperately asking them what he can do to ease the tension, and there was a common theme.

Just put on some music.

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Second Chance

Originally posted by the-floo-network

Originally posted by thespookshaveamidnightjamboree

Thackery Binx x Reader

Second Chance

Prompt(s): “Thackery Binx and a girl from his town before he was turned into a cat secretly meet up as friends then eventually fall for each other. Her father is also head of the towns church.” And “Can you do a oneshot for Thackery binx where the reader is max and Danis older sister and she’s there throughout the whole dealing with the witches thing and Thackery starts to fall in love the second he sees the reader and the reader starts to fall for Thackery as well since he’s always near her protecting her and in the end he’s given the chance to stay or go to heaven and his sister tells him to stay with the reader”

Note: I have literally been in love with Thackery Binx forever. Like, FOREVER. So, obviously, I got carried away and wrote a huge long fic. Enjoy!

Warnings: hella fluff <3

Word Count: 2352

You were certain that Thackery Binx was the most handsome boy in the colony, or perhaps to have ever lived. He had left you as smitten as a kitten with a racing heart and flushed cheeks every time you thought about your sweetheart.

When you stepped out of the tiny shack you called home, a note had been nailed to the end of the post.

“My Love,

Meet me behind the church at dusk.

I have something I have waited long to give to you.

Sincerest Wishes,

-Thackery”

You folded the note and tucked it into the belt of your apron, a grin spreading across your now-rosy cheeks at the thought of meeting your secret lover under the setting sun. The day passed so slow, each moment inching by at the pace of a snail. As soon as the sun began to approach the horizon, you made your way behind the church.

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How can I study without sacrifice and blood?

Yes, we’ve all been there, where we thought maybe sacrificing some blood to the deities will help me pass this grade?. Fear not, for there is a cure for your problem!


1) When you’re lucky and you got time

Lets say, you have three months to prepare yourself to face the wrath of finals, here’s what you should do:


Month One : Make notes

  • Scan the textbooks for any potential information which you think is important, take help from teachers or friends if you need to. 
  • They do help. you can utilize multiple resources for ready made notes as well. 
  • For the whole month, make as many notes as you can - ensuring that you have covered every tiny spec of information in. 
  • Organize all papers and notes (including digital ones - also include ones you took in class even though they’re mere scribbles) neatly as you approach month two.

Month Two : Learning

  • Now this is the most difficult part - actual studying.
  • Refer to your notes thousands of times, rewrite them and revise them however you want to.
  • This is also the time when you use those highlighters you brought on impulse, just know how to do it correctly.
  • Read your textbooks thoroughly, chapter by chapter - better yet paragraphs by paragraphs.
  • Write down keywords on flashcards (i recommend Quizlet) even though hey are not vocabulary related, just don’t forget these terms!
  • Make cheat sheets as if you will be using them for finals, cram in as much information as you can.
  • Revise notes, memorize those sentences which are italicized or highlighted in bold in your textbook by heart.
  • Rote learning isn’t the best option, but when you’re desperate you gotta rely on that.
  • Take this time to solve all doubts either with teachers or by using he internet - like, have you used khan academy?
  • By the end of this month you must have thorough knowledge about your syllabus in detail.


Month Three : Practice

  • Now that you are ready with the basic idea of what your textbook is all about, it’s time to put that knowledge into use.
  • Start solving practice papers, worksheets or any other test material you can grab onto. 
  • There are certain books specially printed for providing potential question papers for an exam, invest in them you won’t regret it.
  • You can ask your teacher for some important questions, and if you have been a good student so far she’ll gladly help.
  • Once you know you have solved about millions of papers, make your own question papers.
  • Try to figure out what is important from a teacher’s point of view, and learn accordingly.


Voila - now you are 100% prepared for finals, walk into the exam hall like a boss and  leave like a boss!


2) When you fall short on time and finals are freaking close!

Okay, so you didn’t utilize those three months efficiently and now you are in deep shit, do not panic because you still can manage to do it.


  • Make a study schedule - a realistic one which you are pretty sure you will follow.
  • Go to your phone - settings - turn off notifications, trust me you will love me for suggesting that later.
  • Be prepared for all-nighters, gather snacks ( I don’t care if they are healthy or not - you can’t be perfect all the time), all study material and all resources.
  • Make the library your home for the time being.
  • You’re lucky if you got social skills, take help from that smart friend you managed to make six months ago.
  • If you are a bit shy (like yours truly), remember - teachers are your best friends!
  • Now you don’t have time to make notes, so use whatever you have at hand.
  • Start solving papers and as you go with the test clear your doubts simultaneously.
  • It helps to have a guide around when you re solving papers, they will help you out instantly.
  • Classify your textbook into two sections : damn important and semi important, go through that damn important parts first and when you are confident you can handle them move onto the semi important portion.
  • Make the most of each day, which means bidding farewell to Netflix and comfortable blankets and the sweet, sweet sleep, but make sure you make up for all the sleep in the form of short naps.
  • Even then if you can’t, skip some parts - what you can certainly not understand despite efforts, let it go.


Now you are prepared for finals, hopefully without tears and blood.


3) Some more advice.

Because it helped me.


  • If you have a bullet journal, try to maintain a study journal - note the amount of hours you study per session, the subject and topic you covered and whether you completely understood it or not.
  • If you cannot maintain the aesthetics, don’t - just write what you understand.
  • Teaching the material to your pet or a doll or a teddy bear helps a lot.
  • Speaking out loud when studying will help better memorization.
  • Take help from your mom (or anybody who stays with you 24 x 7 at home) when making your study schedule - she will point out the times which you can use productively better than you.
  • Stop looking for ‘How to study efficiently’ guides on the internet, because you won’t realize when you wasted three hours trying to learn the basics of studying.
  • For motivation, come straight to Tumblr because this site is a storehouse of studyinspo, follow (I’m sure you already do) some cool studyblrs like @studyign  
  •    @grangergrades

@tbhstudying

@studyquill

@emmastudies

@elkstudies

And so many more which I can’t think of at the moment, they are all very sweet and will help if you reach out.

 I hope this guide helped, please reblog to save a student and feel free to ask me for more tips!

Poor Little Rich Girl-Part 2

This is an A/B/O AU

Your father Lucifer, is the Alpha of your pack and he rules your town with an iron fist.  He is forcing you to marry the son and heir of a rival pack.  It is 3 weeks before your wedding when you find out Sam Winchester is back.   Sam was your first love at 17, and when your father found out, he forced his family to leave town.  You haven’t spoken to him since.  What will happen when you see him again?

Characters: Alpha! Sam Winchester, Beta! Dean Winchester, Omega!Castiel Novak, Omega! Mary Winchester, Reader, Alpha! (Nick) Lucifer, Beta! Michael, Beta! Gabriel, Beta! Stephanie (OC), Alpha Eric (OC) Chuck (mentioned)

Master List

Introduction (all parts are linked)

Things had started off innocently enough. After I’d done poorly on my second test in a row, my Calculus teacher Mr. Reynolds had recommended a tutor. I was desperate to try anything that might get my grade up. My father would kill me if I failed this class.

“I think I have the perfect person for you, Y/N.  He is a former student of mine and one of the best I ever taught. He has tutored for me before.  His name is Sam Winchester.   Here is his number.”

Sam and I made plans to meet at the library after school.  When I arrived and saw him, I knew I was in trouble. As soon as I smelled him I could tell he was Alpha, major Alpha.  Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.  But Sam was a perfect gentleman keeping our time together focused on calculus and nothing else.

One afternoon our lesson ran late and the library was about to close.  I had lost my car for the week due to my “backtalk” so I had been walking to our lessons.  It was raining when we left, and I was dreading walking home in the downpour.

“Let me give you a ride.” Sam offered. I accepted just so I could spend more time with him.  We chatted during the ride. He asked how I’d lost my driving privileges, and I simply said it wasn’t always easy being the Alpha’s daughter.

When we arrived at my house, Sam pulled into the long, circular driveway and whistled in appreciation. “Pretty fancy digs you got there, Y/N.”

I looked at him sadly before getting out of the car.  “It doesn’t matter how nice it is, Sam.  A prison is still a prison.”  He waited until he was sure I was in the house before leaving.

As I set out for my morning run, I kept replaying Sam’s words in my head. I would be lying if I said I didn’t dream that night about Sam doing more than just kissing me.  But I wasn’t a naive seventeen-year-old Omega in the throes of her first crush anymore.

I had heard NOTHING from Sam for over 10 years, and then three weeks before my wedding he shows up and tells me I should be with him.  I knew what my father was capable of.  Getting run out of town was the least of Sam’s worries.  Nobody messed with the Alpha’s daughter.

When I leaned down at the water fountain to get a drink, I jumped when my earbuds were suddenly pulled from my ears.  “Don’t stop on my account. I’m enjoying the view tremendously.”

I whirled around to find Sam running in place behind me, t-shirt sticky with sweat, barely breathing heavy.  I was suddenly conscious of my tank top and running shorts.

“Are you stalking me now? I hear nothing from you for ten years now every time I turn around I’m tripping over you!  What is your game, Sam?“

I was trying hard to maintain my righteous indignation, but he smelled so good. “If you want me so much, why didn’t I hear from you before now?”

“Wait…” He began, holding up a finger.

“No, YOU wait! I had no idea where your family had moved to. I tried to find you, but my father told me in no uncertain terms to stop looking.” I stared at him, arms crossed, waiting for an answer.

“You have every right to ask.”  He began.  “After your Dad made sure mine lost his job at the garage, and we were “encouraged” by the Alpha to move, my Dad was so bitter he refused to even talk about this place.  I went to college and law school so I could make something of myself before I came back.”

He looked at me earnestly. “Ask Dean, I never forgot you.  Then my Dad got sick.  He died last year.  As soon as I could I started applying for jobs here.”

“Run with me?” I said to Sam. We jogged off together down the path that cut through the park.  When I was sure that no one could see us, I stopped and turned to him.  “The pack meeting is tonight.  Just promise me if you get an invite from the Alpha to attend, you decline.  Do not join.  Eric is going to be there tonight.”

If was not a requirement to join the pack.  Not everyone did. I likened the Alpha to the Godfather.  If you joined the pack, you enjoyed certain privileges: The protection of the Alpha, the benefit of shared resources, the assistance of fellow pack members if needed.  But these privileges came at a price.  The Alpha’s word was law.

Those who broke the rules were punished swiftly.  Over the years, there had been several who had stepped up to challenge my father, but his strength was legendary.  No one had unseated him as Alpha, though some had tried.  With Uncle Michael as his “Consigliere”, my father ruled through intimidation and fear.

This is the environment I was raised in.  I was expected to tow the line and do what my father commanded of me until I was mated, then I would do what my Alpha commanded of me.  My father had a very old-fashioned view of Omegas.  They were to be seen and not heard.  Eric’s mother barely said two words ever without looking to her Alpha for permission. I was NEVER going to be like her.

“It has already come, Y/N.  And Dean and I have both accepted.  I will be there.  I want to meet this Alpha your father has sold you off to.”  Sam told me.

“I was suddenly furious. “Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said? The last thing you want is my Dad poking his nose into your business.  You only want to meet Eric so you can size up the competition.”

Sam reached out, his huge hands grabbing my upper arms and pushing my back against a tree. He pressed his body against mine, showing his Alpha dominance.  He ran his lips down the column of my neck, tongue licking the sweat off.  When he dragged his teeth over the spot where my neck and shoulder met, I whimpered and clawed at his back, trying to get him closer.

“What would your Daddy say if he knew I had you here, panting and moaning underneath me? Does Eric make you hot like this? Does he?  I could take you right now, and you would let me, wouldn’t you?”

His words pierced through my endorphin-fueled haze like a dart.  Yes, I probably would have let him take me right here, but I would die before I’d admit it now. 

“You bastard,” I whispered.  I pushed hard against Sam’s chest to make him let me go.  It was like trying to move a brick wall.  I was mortified that I had lost control like that.

“I am your Alpha, Y/N.  The sooner you realize that the easier this will be. I don’t care what your father says.  I mean to see this through to the end. Your mine, and I don’t share.  I’ll see you tonight.  I can’t wait to meet Eric.” 

Sam kissed me hard, so hard I saw stars.  Then he let me go and jogged off down the path while I fought to collect myself.  I wondered what I would have to do to get out of the pack meeting.  My Dad would accept nothing short of my actual death, and even then he would probably demand to see the body.

My life had been a whole lot simplier before Sam Winchester came back to town.

Part 3

@ayeeitsemry @skybinx-blog @percywinchester27 @a-sea-of-fandoms @dorky-and-i-know-it@fangirl1802 @pinknerdpanda  @atc74@jayankles  @notnaturalanahi@midnightjazzmine @moonlitskinwalker @we-are-band-sexuals@winchestergirl-love @gecko9596 @ronnie248-blog@essie1876@bohowitch@just-another-busy-fangirl@jotink78 @captainradicalpassion@keelzythe2nd @disneymarina @kittenofdoomage @mrswhozeewhatsis@oriona75 @jotink78 @frankiea1998 @curleyblondexoxo @abbessolute@akshi8278@stylinson531@valynsia@laurenisnot@maddieburcham1@supernaturaldean67@canadianjelly @dr-dean@theoutlinez@muliermalefici   @imweirdandobsessed @growningupgeek @prettyxwickedxthings   

http://winchesterprincessbride.tumblr.com/post/161987955489/poor-little-rich-girl-part-3p>

A Supernaturally Stucky Halloween - Part 3

Pairing: Stucky X Reader (Eventual)

Summary: Hunters, their lives are never easy. What happens when you literally stumble into the world of the supernatural?

Word Count: 1401

Warnings: Switching POV’s, protective Bucky. Some mild angsty themes.

Parts: One / two / three / four / five /


Bucky drove, Steve sat in the passenger seat trying to see if he could find out anything more about who could be doing the haunting or what kind of demon was mucking about. You were in the backseat, just being generally annoying. Or so you were told.

“This car is normally much quieter, you know?” Bucky asks in a teasing tone. With subtle hints that he doesn’t actually want you to stop talking.

“Shut up, you know you love the sound of my voice. You’ve been starved of it for, what’s it been, 6 years?” You tease, and Bucky chuckles.

“Well, you don’t need to make up for all 6 years in the remaining hour of this drive.” Bucky teases, and you smack his shoulder.

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Have Some Fun At Work

I got a little inspiration from @ask-dark-ask-light while we were messaging each other. 
And because I know how much she likes Natemare, I’m going to tease her and the lot of you. 
Hope you enjoy! 

Originally posted by crystalfier

It had only been three hours!? You’ve been sitting at this damn desk for only three hours? 
You were sure it had been longer. To assure yourself, you checked your phone. Not trusting the computer’s clock at all. 
But, your phone read the same time and you shoved it back in your bag with a frustrated sigh. 
This week had been going pretty good. You got your own office! Set with a new desk chair, a shiny new desk and even a little cupboard for storage.
The boss even gave you a new coffee mug! 
But as the week reached Friday, you found the weekend couldn’t come quick enough. 
Sighing heavily, you returned to work. Kicking off your shoes for better comfort and tapping away on the keyboard. Allowing your mind to block out the world beyond your office door. 
Your brain was doing such a good job at blocking everything out, that you failed to notice wisps of grey smoke trickling under your door. 
The smoke slithered along the ground, a tendril peeking under your desk to tickle the bottom of your foot. 
You jerked back and ducked down to see what had touched you. But seeing nothing, you returned to your original position and cried out in shock. 
“Morning, my lady.” Natemare smirked from his seat on your desk. “Did I scare you?” 
You glared up at Mare, “What are you doing here?  I thought I made it clear. No work visits.” 
Natemare sighed, leaning on his hand as he picked up a pen and twirled it between his fingers. 
“I got bored at home. I thought you could use a break from…whatever it is you’re doing.” Natemare smiled innocently at you. But pouting slightly when you snatched the pen from his grasp. 
“I’m fine, Mare. Now scat before someone sees you.” You shooed him off your desk with a wave of your hand. He poked his tongue at you and disappeared into a thin cloud of smoke. 

Natemare however didn’t leave your office. You came to that realization when you felt phantom hands crawling up your legs. 
“Mare!” You hissed. “Stop it.” 
But the man kept going. You felt his fingers glide along your skin, massaging your thighs and further reaching towards your hips. 
You squirmed a little when he kneaded that ticklish spot, but kept your lips firmly pressed together. 
“Aww, come on sweetheart.” Natemare’s voice whispered from your right shoulder. “You know, time goes faster when you’re having fun. And I could definitely make it fly.”
His voice was something between a purr and a soft growl. Ghostly lips brushed your collarbone and you shivered. 
You couldn’t see it, but Natemare’s smoke cloud surrounded you. The only indication that you were trapped there, was Mare’s touch and the faint smell of a campfire. 
You bit down a moan when his fingers rubbed you through your pants. 
“I’m going to…murder you.” You forced the words from your lips. Trying to ignore the arousal Natemare was inducing between your legs. 
You made a grab for his wrist when they twitched firmly down there. But you felt only air. 
Natemare chuckled, his lips trailing along your jawline. “You can’t stop me now, babe. Not until you take a break and spend it with me.” 
His fingers slid under the waist-line of your pants. His touch firm as he worked on you with slow, teasing movements.
“I…need to work.” You coughed to cover up another moan that bubbled through your chest. “Mare we can…oh god….do this later.” 
You had to grip your desk to stop yourself from bucking against his hand. You glimpsed a shadow pass your door and you hoped your expression was calmer than how your body felt. 
Natemare quickened his pace between your legs. Relentlessly pounding, while his other hand held your hips still. 
A loud curse escaped your lips and you whimpered when someone knock on your door. 
“Everything ok, (Y/N)?” Your co-worker asked. 
Natemare lifted his lips from your skin, his voice mimicking your own. 
“Just dropped my pen, nothing major.” 
You leaned against your desk, your forehead pressing against the surface as you clamped down on the groan. 
“M-Mare…please,” You weren’t sure what you wanted more. Your release or for him to stop. 
But when Natemare chuckled, pulling his fingers away, you whirled on him as he became flesh. 
Natemare dove forward, planting his hands on the arms of your chair and trapping you against the back of the seat as he kissed you. 
You were both hungry. Your lips a frenzy as his tongue invaded your mouth. You gripped his shirt, pulling him closer as you consumed him in the kiss.
But then you pulled away and pushed him back. His confused frown was quickly replaced with a wide smirk as you grabbed a fistful of his shirt and dragged him towards the cupboard. 
“You get ten minutes.” You hissed, shoving him into the small space. 
“I can make that work.” He replied smugly. Once the door was closed, Natemare returned to his smoke form and you felt invisible hands press you against the wall. A pair of phantom lips passed through the crotch of your pants to take you in his mouth.
You had to clamp your hand over your mouth to stop the loud sounds of pleasure from escaping. 
It wasn’t long before you were both too busy with each other to realise that it was more than ten minutes before you left that cupboard.

Getting The Girl

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warning: Swearing, violence.

Summary: Buck’s in love with you, but he cant stand your boyfriend till things between the two of you and go wrong, Buck’s the one that’s saving you.

@chrisevansthedoritobastard


“I think if you stare any harder, you might just pop a blood vessel.” Sam chuckles setting his glass back on the table. Steve laughs next to him, as they watch Buck moon over (Y/N) and death glare at her boyfriend Adam.

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anonymous asked:

hi!! i don't know if you're taking prompts (so if you're not, ignore this!!) but i saw a text post a trillion years ago that was like "imagine your otp meeting in a 7am lecture and one of them is pouring redbull into their coffee and looks straight at the other and says 'im going to die' and just drinks the whole thing" and ever since i started watching skam this reminded me of something isak would definitely do. aaaanywayyy, i love your fics, keep writing and being awesome!

The Study Buddy; 2070 words
[AO3]

It was Even’s firm belief that whoever scheduled a guest speaker at 7.15AM on a Monday deserved to have hellfire rain down upon them.  He wasn’t even sure why he said he’d go; when one of his lecturer’s the previous Thursday had told the class that there was a speaker on Monday that they might find interesting Even had made a note of it even though it was optional.

Maybe he was losing his mind.  He had chosen to go to a 7.15 talk.

He couldn’t even remember what the lecturer had said it was about; just that it could be interesting and might help some of them gain some insight for their film projects.  That had probably been what pushed him to go, because as much as Even loves his eight hours of sleep he wanted his film to be perfect more.

When Even walked into the lecture hall at almost 7.10 there were about a dozen students scattered around, which was honestly more than he was expecting to see.  He chose a seat somewhere in the middle and slumped down, quickly biting the inside of his cheek to silence the whine he wanted to let out.

The plastic chair was Baltic.  Despite it being mid-November – in Norway – he was pretty sure that the heating wasn’t on yet.  The pipes were creaking and groaning, though, and he realised that the heating was probably only just coming on now to get up to a pleasant temperature at 8AM when normal lecture times start.

Great.  The guy in here after me will probably be toasty warm while I’ll be a fucking ice sculpture, Even thought sullenly. He was pretty sure he could feel his lips pushing into a grumpy pout as the cold from the chair seeped through his clothes and bit at his skin.

He put his travel mug down on the floor and struggled out of his mittens – it was cold, alright? and everyone knows that mittens are warmer than gloves Even will defend his mittens with his dying breath – and was just getting his notepad out when he saw him.

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