responsibly irresponsible

bosswooper  asked:

I'm the trainer of a grown mimikyu. However, it behaves strangely. I make sure to feed it regularly and keep it healthy and happy, but my mimikyu appears to have some behavioral issues; It's extremely hostile. It will lash out at me and others without warning, and is too aggressive for me to use it in battle. I've tried taking it to professionals, and it's perfectly healthy, they say I'm doing nothing wrong, and professional trainers have made no progress with it. I'm on my last straw here!

Even though they are very, very cute, Mimikyu are aggressive. There’s no nice way to say (write) it. Since so much of their body is covered, they really can’t even give the warnings that other Pokémon can give, such as flattening ears or fluffing tails, so it is harder to predict what they intend to do. They are very, very willful. Even experienced trainers compare Mimikyu to Dragonite and Gyrados, temperament-wise. It takes a stronger-willed, highly disciplined, well-trained person to attempt keeping one. Even Alola’s current Elite Four refuse to use Mimikyu.

Truth be told, a lot of trainers experience what you are right now. They can keep their Pokémon healthy, but not under control.

Which, sadly, means you need to make some decisions. Are you willing to change your training, battling, and lifestyle to accommodate your Pokémon? Can you put in the hours, lessons, and funding? If not, you need to really consider re-homing your Pokémon.

I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but this is often the fate of Mimikyu, Bewear, and Fearow trainers. A Pokémon can be healthy, attractive, and cute, but not necessarily docile. Trainers need to do a lot of research and self-reflection before accepting a Pokémon.

It bothers me when people use their past as a crutch. The lack of a father figure in your life is not the reason why you turned out the way you did. Your life turned out a certain way because you allowed it to. Yes, certain things that happen to us affect us for sure, but to hold that entire situation/person responsible for your life choices, is irresponsible. Take responsibility.

frondsnfangs  asked:

Do most trainer schools teach how to care for the needs of local Pokemon etc or is this something nurse Joy/the Pokemon daycare informs you of? Are these facilities legally allowed/obligated to take Pokemon, should they deem a trainer unable to meet its needs? I know that's a lot but I think they're fair questions.

Yes they are, but I’m not sure how well I can answer them. Let’s give it a shot, though.

As previously mentioned, I believe new trainers have to take a test proving they understand the basics of Pokémon care. Any further training is, well, on the trainer. It’s a bit like how driving school can teach you the basics, but maintenance, local laws, and registration are up to the driver. Pokémon Centers, daycares, nurseries, schools, gyms, and professors are great and usually free resources. Libraries maintain good and relevant materials. Non-profits also offer advice and direction.

Pokémon Centers are the first line of defense for poorly cared-for Pokémon. Since all trainers eventually have to bring their guys in, the nurses/veterinarians can detect problems. However, they do not have the legal authority to do anything. They do, however, have close contact with law enforcement. Most centers/hospitals have active police on-site who will step in if there is a cause for concern.

If a trainer/teacher/citizen notices a Pokémon not doing well or has other reason for concern, there are toll-free, anonymous hotlines provided by local governments and volunteers who will investigate the situation and contact the authorities as necessary.

Again, not a complete description, but maybe this is a start.

anonymous asked:

versusastrologico: responsables vs irresponsables

Responsables: Virgo, Capricornio, Tauro, Leo, Escorpio, Acuario. 

Irresponsables: Cáncer, Piscis, Géminis, Libra, Sagitario, Aries.


TAZ Siblings Categorized
  • Taako and Lup: The "switch places just to mess with you and steal your socks" twins. (The Fred and George Weasley)
  • Carey and Scales Fangbattle: Act standoffish with each other, but mess with either of them in the other's vicinity and you're getting a face full of Lightening Breath. (The Sokka and Katara)
  • Lydia and Edward: Will destroy your life through gossip and emotional manipulation. They don't even need to mess with your directly.(The Ryan and Sharpay Evans)
  • Mookie and Maevis Highchurch: Responsible older sibling and irresponsible younger sibling. (The Ramona and Beezus)
Braids & War Paint (Part 4)

Note’s On:

Part 1: / Part 2:  / Part 3:  / Part 5: 

For the last three days Terrasen had experienced the heaviest rain showers in decades. The granite skies had held promise of precipitation, Terresen had had everything, from rain to sleet to hail. They’ve had it all. 

Her royal highness, Aelin Galathynius had been confined within the castle, attending meetings, reading, raiding Lysandra’s chocolate stash. She hadn’t been bored but Aelin did find herself missing a certain fae warrior. Aelin saw Rowan at meal times, ran into him accidentally around the castle here and there. Aelin had missed his brooding nature, even though there had only been a short while of their friendship, there was something about Rowan that Aelin couldn’t turn away from. 

“He’s like the plague.” Aelin muttered to herself realising who her thoughts turned to again. The princess sat in her ornate armchair, legs curled underneath her. The sexy-fun-time book she had been reading was starting to bore her. As her mind had been wandering, her eyes seemed to stray too, towards the balcony across the way. 

Rowan sat at his desk, penning a report to ‘his queen’, no doubt. His silver hair glowed against the rain on his panelled door. Fae senses really helped Aelin, but it was times like this when she wanted to shove her head in the sand. 

Rowan had caught her staring, the letter he was penning wasn’t a letter at all, but a sign that he held up to the door: 

You look braindead. 

Aelin laughed out into her quiet room, Fleetfoot picked her head up off the bed, startled by Aelin’s loud outburst. She searched around for her quill and a stack of parchment and wrote her reply: 

The rain makes my hair go frizzy. 

Aelin could see Rowan’s slight squint and the roll of his green eyes when he finally read her sign. The two passed notes across the way like children. Laughing at stupid jokes that the other had written. Rowan had the neatest handwriting Aelin had ever seen, she hated to admit it but it was more beautiful than her’s. She had one piece of parchment left, Aelin had to make it count

What book were you reading?

Aelin tried to hide her smile at Rowan’s question, it was dumb and childish, but the fact that he saw her reading must’ve meant he looked at her before she looked over at him. The butterflies of anticipation rose in her stomach.

I’ll come over and tell you about it.

Rowan’s eyebrow raise was the only answer she needed before rushing out of her quarters. 

“I can’t believe you like that garbage.” Rowan chastised, scoffing at Aelin who had waltzed into his room and lounged over the armchair in the corner of the room, her long legs hanging over there rolled arm of the leather chair. 

“It’s not garbage! It’s romantic.” 

“That’s not romance.” Rowan said, hunched over his writing desk, his letter to Lorcan was…supposed to be finished hours ago. It was just very hard to concentrate when the princess of Terrasen was bickering about bad romance novels that weren’t really romantic at all. 

“Oh?” Aelin piped. “And what do you know of romance.” Rowan’s desk chair groaned when he spun around to face her, the typical eyebrow raised at her poised question. She was looking into him, her gaze lingered deep and Rowan felt like pouring out his secrets then and there. 

He wondered how Captain Rolfe of the Mycenians said no to her. 

“I’ve experienced love, Aelin Galathynius.” Rowan scratched the back of his neck as the tips of his delicately pointed ears burned at the thought of Lyria, at the thought of talking about his love life with Aelin, about the situations he’s been stepping into willingly. 

“I have too, once.” She whispered, at the sound of her small voice Rowan became wary about the topic and did what he did best. Ignore it until silence enveloped them. Rowan could hear her breathing, he could hear her stand, he could hear her featherlight footfalls as she walked towards him and sat on his writing desk, flipping through his sealed letters, scanning over the address’. Then she stopped at one. 

“What is she like?” At first Rowan thought she meant Lyria, until he looked up and saw who the letter was addressed to. 

“She’s your great aunt, shouldn’t you know?” Rowan laughed breathily as he signed the short report to Lorcan. Rowan didn’t have to look but he knew Aelin’s only response was a shrug. 

“Never met her, I’ve only heard her reputation.” Aelin said nonchalantly, but he could tell that she was eager to know more about her estranged kin across the sea. Galan mustn’t be telling her much. 

“She cares for her people.” Rowan stated firmly, only slightly stumbling over his words, he was trying to be truthful about his queen, but usually negative adjectives are used when describing Queen Maeve of the Fae. 

“That’s not uncommon, every ruler should care for their people. It’s their duty.” Aelin stated. Rowan had never let a thought like that cross his mind, he’s experienced all kinds of rulers…none of them spoke like it was a gift to their people that they cared for them and not a citizen right to be cared for. 

“Queen Maeve is harsh but she does what she can.” Rowan hated the taste of lie in his mouth. It was ashen. 

“My mother doesn’t want me to ever meet her,” Aelin said, playing with the one small braid in her hair. “If my mother won’t let me, that must mean she isn’t worth meeting.” Rowan had no answer for the statement, he had no input. She had been his queen before Rowan’s soul was placed in his body. 

Rowan Whitethorn had never believed in fate. But he couldn’t help to feel like Rowan was placed in Terrasen at this very moment in time for a reason, whether it be to learn more about himself, learn more about the stigma behind his queen or be intrigued by the heir of fire herself. Rowan didn’t know, what he did know is that he is glad for it. 

“I’ve seen a lot of Terrasen people with braids in their hair, is it a custom?” Rowan asked, placing his quill back in the ink pot, giving the princess his undivided attention. As the question fleeted his mouth, Aelin’s slender fingers gripped the braid she had been absentmindedly fiddling with. She gained a vacant look in her legendary eyes. 

“If you promise someone something, or if someone promises you something, you braid a commodity that belongs to them into your hair and you don’t remove it until the promise is fulfilled.”  Aelin said in a light voice as her immaculate nails traced the leather band in her braid. 

“We have nothing like that in Doneralle.” Rowan said as he wondered who promised Aelin something so important she braided a vow into her hair for her whole court to see, he wondered if Aelin was the one to promise something. 

“What of your tattoo’s?” Arlin quipped, letting her eyes roam his inked flesh. “They are in the old tongue, aren’t they?” 

Rowan placed two fingers to his temple and started tracing his memories before he answered: 

“They tell the story of my first battle, I had thousands of soldiers under my command,”  Rowan’s eyes somehow found her heavy ones. “I had thousands, I walked out with a few hundred because I didn’t know what I was doing. I lead young fae into a massacre.” Hundreds of years later, Rowan Whitethorn still felt the crushing feelings of guilt and responsibility. 

“You inked your irresponsibility onto your skin for anyone to read?” Aelin quietly asked, extending her hand to his face where she traced the letters of the old language.

“It’s my burden and shame to carry.” Aelin’s hand quickly retracted and flew back to her braid. Rowan noted that her fingers held an unnatural warmth, even in the freezing walls of the stone castle. “Who does your promise belong to?” Rowan asked, his hand vaguely gesturing the braid. 

A small smile graced Aelin’s lips before a sad shadow shrouded the young woman’s features. 

“It belongs to me, I promised myself something on behalf of someone who doesn’t walk this earth anymore.” Aelin sadly answered, the way her thick dark eyebrows drew together made Rowan wonder what kind of event happened to cause such heartache in someone so young. Then he realised he saw this face on Aelin only a few moments prior. 

“Did you love him? The boy you promised?” Aelin’s eyes snapped up to Rowan’s at his question. She nervously swallowed a lump in her throat. Rowan could see all the clogs and gears working in her head, weighing up the options of what to tell him, how much to tell him, to tell him anything at all. 

“His name was Sam Cortland.” Aelin’s eyes sparkled with the memories that were probably running across her mind. Rowan knew what that was like. “I loved him very much.” In an attempt to distract herself from the confession Aelin played with fake lint on her sapphire tunic. Rowan stayed silent, waiting for her to continue. “He was murdered when I was sixteen.” Rowan’s heart clenched, he’d never had a lover that had passed but his separation with Lyria had been just as painful. 

“What was your promise?” Rowan didn’t realise that, that comment could be seen as rude, but when Aelin was taken aback, Rowan started scrambling for an explanation before she shushed him. 

“It’s a fair question,” Aelin said. “I promised him that I would be happy, even though he is gone. I would be happy because I knew that is what he would’ve wanted.” Aelin let a light smile grace her lips. Rowan knew that he should feel sorry for her, show her sympathy. However, Rowan knew that she was strong, that she wouldn’t want his sympathy even if he did offer it to her. She had vowed to be happy and live without her first love. 

“And you?” She asked him, her voice even and tenacious. Rowan quirked a friendly eyebrow at her, which he found himself doing often in Aelin’s presence. “You said you experienced romance, who was your first love?” 

Rowan could still feel the heat of the sun and the smell of the tulips she was selling that day. He remembered her smile and her dark hair against alabaster skin. The kindness that radiated off her in waves. Rowan could still remember he never deserved Lyria. 

“Her name was Lyria.” Aelin’s fingertips brushed against Rowan’s on top of his pile of letters, a silent encouragement to continue. “She was the most beautifully kind women I had ever met in my life. We were together for a very long time, I went away on raids and crusades very frequently.” Rowan took a sharp intake as he continued the story; “Lyria wanted a family, wanted a life I could never give her. She knew that too, but my selfishness blocked her into a life she didn’t want. One day I came home and she was gone, she wrote me a letter saying how much she loved me but I could never give her what she was searching for, I had no idea. Oblivious to her wallowing in her own despair.” 

It had been a long time Rowan had told the full story to anyone before. 

“You deserve happiness, Rowan Whitethorn.” Aelin said, jumping to her feet off the desk. “If Lyria has found happiness without you, then you can find happiness too. Gods, I hope happiness walks into your life.” With that, Aelin of the Wildfire exited his quarters. 

What she didn’t know was that happiness had walked into his life. It was the first time he had felt true happiness in a long time, happiness had strutted into his life wearing a green gown and a smirk. 

AN: I just wanted to thank everyone who has shown support and interest in this fic, but I just wanted to thank a few people in particular, who gave me confidence and words of wisdom. Without them this fic would have never been continued: @2-bookmaster-2 @aelin-and-feyre @rowanismybae @sparkleywonderful @cassiancalore @igniscorde7112 @illyrian-high-lord and last but not least @azrielsiphons

Thank you all so much, my heart swells whenever I see comments from anyone and everyone, I’m so glad to be in a fandom that is so supportive, even if your opinions and ideas are so different. Thank you to everyone who gives me and this fic time of day. 

If you have any questions, ideas, asks, prompts or want a general convo please take a visit to my inbox or my question section :) 

Much love and many thanks, 


In a book of archetypes, I’m ready to be aligned
with someone else. I want to be the one who forgets
the password, the one struggling to balance a budget.
I want the great luxury of making mistakes
that don’t need to be cleaned up, or at least
I want to be the person who doesn’t have to clean.
Let the dirt come in, the dust, and the repairman
who is my man. I’m ready to be saved, to have
someone put his hands on my hips as he tells me
to feel it before I swing my pen into a contract.
But I can’t feel it, not this responsibility,
not this sense of rightness. That part of my brain
is finally tired, or quiet, or just gone.
God, even the regret on this side feels different.
—  Yena Sharma Purmasir, “seventeen of thirty” (2017)

anonymous asked:

Why do people think Jon's behavior is at all out of character for him? Yes, the writing was poor in season 7 but Jon isn't one of those I saw as written out of character. JON WANTS TO KILL THE NIGHT KING. If he has to sacrifice or risk power to do so HE WILL. HE HAS. THAT'S WHY HE WAS MURDERED. He never wanted to be a leader but has shouldered the responsibility for ONE REASON. Of course he'd bend the knee (after much consideration) to a leader he now trusts and is stepping the F up with him!

I mean, I see where you’re coming from. And if it was just Jon’s personal loyalty to Dany that was in question, I wouldn’t have an issue with it - he can swear allegiance to whoever he likes, you know? It’s definitely his call when it comes to his own person.

The problem is that it isn’t just Jon’s personal loyalty that’s in question. By bending the knee to Dany, he - as King in the North - also pledged the loyalty of the entire North to her. This means he gave up their independence and promised they would return to be a part of the Seven Kingdoms under her rule. Which, again, is still better than getting eaten by zombies - but Jon did this without actually asking anybody in the North what their opinion was. And that’s not cool, dude. It’s also quite possibly outside his authority as an ‘elected’ king (admittedly no one really knows what powers an elected king has, since the North doesn’t typically have them and probably won’t in the books - but still).

The Northern lords want to get their say in the future of their country. Bran and Sansa and Arya want to get their say in the future of their House and the people they are sworn to protect. By bending the knee to Dany - especially after she had already agreed to fight for the North without Jon’s pledge - Jon has taken that choice away from them. He’s basically saying their opinions don’t matter, only his does. And frankly, in their position, I would be pretty angry about that.

It’s like if your boyfriend volunteered to go check out the movie theatre and see which films are playing, and then came back having already bought two tickets for the Emoji Movie because he saw the preview and unilaterally decided it was the one he wanted to watch. Like, excuse me, babe, but shouldn’t that be a joint decision? And wtf, the Emoji Movie, are you serious? When you knew I wanted to see Ingrid Goes West? (That guy is getting dumped, is what I’m saying.)

So…yeah. That’s basically why some people are saying that Jon is being out of character this season, because they don’t think the Jon they know would really act this way. Personally, I don’t have a super strong opinion either way, though I definitely prefer the darker and more ruthless book!Jon to show!Jon, especially S7!Jon. I think it would be nice if he turned out to not just be really stupid, though, because in the books he’s actually quite smart, and in the show up till now he’s still done some reasonably intelligent things despite his inconsistent characterization. But his major S7 decisions so far have just been…dumb.

I mean, if Jon shows up in the North telling everyone he’s bent the knee to the Dragon Queen next season, there’s a very good chance the Northern lords will dump his ass - which is not going to help Jon’s goal of saving everyone by beating the WW at all. Even in an apocalyptic zombie battle, politics still matter, because people are going to be people whatever the situation. And by ignoring the politics, Jon has basically put everyone’s lives in even more danger. Which, again, is dumb.

It’s not about Jon’s personal sacrifices, or Jon being willing to risk his own status and power - that’s all very well and good, and if Jon’s only responsibility was himself I’d be cool with it. But Jon is responsible to the entire North; if he didn’t want to be, he should have just told them ‘no’ when they elected him King. But Jon accepted because he believed he was the best person to lead the North through the dark times ahead. And getting himself unelected in a matter of months because of poorly-thought-through political decisions is not responsible leadership - it’s astonishingly irresponsible. It’s going to cause even more political upheaval in an already unstable region, it could lead to Jon being replaced by a less capable king without the vision or experience necessary to prepare the North in their time of need, and the inevitable leadership dispute is going to distract the Northern lords from focussing on the real danger, a.k.a. the WWs who Jon is supposedly so obsessed with defeating.

So Jon’s political calls this season sure look they’ve made it more difficult for him to kill the Night King, not less. Is that out of character for him? I mean, it’s up to you to decide for yourself - I still haven’t made up my mind either. But it’s definitely poor leadership, especially for someone whose entire character arc has been about learning to become an effective leader.
Reddit Science AMA on genetically engineering American chestnuts
Hi Reddit! We are a team of scientists at the College of Environmental Science and Forestry in Syracuse, New York, and we’ve been working for 27...

TLDR: This project is using genetic engineering to create American chestnut trees that are blight-resistant so they can restore the species to the wild!  It’s really cool and controversial, and if you have ever had questions about GMOs, how they work and whether you should really fear them or not, you should go ask these guys!

The long version:

About 100 years ago, the American chestnut began to effectively go extinct, thanks to an invasive fungus.  Before then, there were about 4 billion of them, and they made up about ¼ of forests in eastern North America, and they produced loads and loads of nuts that made up a large part of the natural diet of North American wildlife.  It was a huge deal, even though a lot of us who were born since then don’t really notice what a massive change it made to the health of the North American environment.

So this team of scientists has been using genetic engineering to create an American chestnut tree that is resistant to the chestnut blight.

It’s controversial work–it would be the first genetically engineered organism to be deliberately released into the wild–but the team has spent 30 years successfully creating this tree, and now they’re spending the next five years running tests to make sure it’s safe and can earn regulatory approval (assuming the federal situation doesn’t go completely bananas in the near future).  Their argument is that this tree is all but identical to native American chestnuts–the only difference is they’ve extracted a single gene from wheat that confers blight resistance and inserted it into the chestnut trees. 

Yes, that does make this tree technically a GMO.  But GMO is actually a pretty complicated thing, and you don’t get the full story either from Monsanto or from the anti-GMO purists.  These guys work for a public college and are not going to patent their work, and they are willing to talk freely about EXACTLY what the process is and what regulatory approval entails and how this technology can be used in both responsible and dangerously irresponsible ways.

anonymous asked:

Anon from yesterday with the boyfriend and money problems: we broke up. I offered to help him other ways instead of money and suddenly because I'm not giving him the money I'm a liar and untrustworthy. I told him my budget doesn't allow for that right now and he blocked me on all social media. So I guess that's it. It sucks because I'm losing his friendship as well as his companionship. And I'm sad.

[For context

Hiya! May I just tell you that I’m sorry, not because of the outcome of your relationship, but because this person proved to be a shady manipulative being who could not be trusted, no matter how much compassion you showed him.

He exposes himself when things don’t go his way, and for him, they way he dealt with it, was to put his frustration on you. It’s a brilliant, but predictable strategy these people tend to use, and it’s nothing but an abusive game. This person tried to gaslight you, and unfortunately, these sort of tactics are very common, and its purpose is to put fear into your heart so you fall into a guilty position where you doubt your own actions to the point of insanity. Do not fall for that, this individual is frustrated over his own situation, and he got no one to blame that for but himself, he cannot blame you for his predicament because you weren’t responsible for his irresponsibility, he’s only trying to manipulate your emotions to his own whim. You gave him a chance and he blew it.

He’s trying to guilt you into believing that it’s you at fault, but trust me! You are not at fault, he’s playing with your feelings, he’s trying to torment you into a position where you become most vulnerable and when that happens, good Lord, I don’t wanna image. I’m sorry to say this, but this person was blatantly making an attempt at gaslighting you. He lied to you and your mother, he couldn’t keep up with his jobs, he freeloaded at your place and he ran away without as much of a word; he lied to you, and he then puts his frustration out on you by calling you a liar who is untrustworthy? I’m sorry, my friend - but this individual is a toxic manipulative jerk who is only trying to make you feel vulnerable and guilty, it’s an extremely abusive method they use in order to hide their own guilt, because once you fall for their games, they will make use of it in the future and trust me, it would cause you some serious damage, both physically and mentally. Why would you wanna befriend a man who tried to manipulate you? I know you were attached to him, but please, save yourself from him, it’s for your own good.

A Good Alpha

Castiel sat in the burgeoning darkness of the small sitting room for a long while, his half-drunk tumbler of scotch grasped loosely between long fingers as the liquid swirled and shifted to reflect the dimming embers of the fire. He stared into the fire grate, the dying flames crackling or sparking softly every few moments, but he did not see the fire grate or the flames. He did not hear the soft hiss of ash as it tumbled from the logs into the pile below. He did not feel the chill of the room that pervaded even the warm shirt he wore.

Instead, he saw the young omega who was now his very own to cherish and care for. He heard the rustle of the long white gown as it slid along the cold, concrete floor of the cavernous chapel. He felt that warm hand in his own as Castiel helped him kneel at the altar ornate altar ablaze with the multitude of prayer candles. Each represented a joyful wish of congratulations for the new couple from their family and friends; none were there from Michael, he was sure of it.

As he helped the omega kneel and then took his place beside him, he couldn’t seem to help the way his hand lingered at the small of his back, steadying him, supporting him. Anyone watching would think he was simply being an attentive alpha, caring for his intended. None of them would know—could know—where his true concern lie: the pup already growing in its belly.

Was it a mere three weeks ago, so short a time ago really, when he had believed himself an old bachelor, too set in his ways for a mate? Too advanced in age for a pup? And yet here he sat, a newlywed with a pup on the way.

His mother would have been thrilled, had she been here to see it. She had always talked about having grandchildren to fill up the silence of the family’s homestead, reminiscing of a time when he and his own siblings had run through the halls, laughing and playing. He’d always felt guilty that he hadn’t married, because he knew how she longed for grandchildren, how she would have loved to see them grow and mature in the home she’d passed on to her oldest. 

He liked to believe that she wouldn’t have cared that it wasn’t his, considering that it was still his blood. He liked to believe that his father would have been proud of him for stepping up and taking responsibility for his irresponsible nephew’s shortcomings (and really, he was so very irresponsible. If anyone had found out about the pregnancy, they wouldn’t have been the least surprised).

But even as he congratulated himself on his deceased parents’ behalf, he knew the truth. He hadn’t married that omega out of a sense of obligation. He hadn’t accepted the responsibility of raising Michael’s pup as his own out of some skewed sense of familial contrition. No, he’d married the omega because…well, put quite simply, he’d wanted to. He’d always believed himself destined to be an old bachelor, but from the first moment when he’d seen the Winchesters’ omega son at the first ball of the season, he’d wanted. Oh how he’d wanted, longed, desired…more than he could ever remember wanting anything or anyone before.

And then, when the boy had come to Castiel’s house—devastated, alone, undone—looking for Michael, only to find that the irrepressible spirit of youth had once again dragged that idiotic cad to far-away lands, he’d confided in Castiel instead. And within moments, a plan had begun to unfurl in Castiel’s mind; within hours, it began to be put into effect; and within days, it had been carried out completely and effectively. And now, Castiel was married, with a pup on the way.

But even with all these changes, he found himself spending the evening the same way he’d spent every other evening for the past twenty years: alone in a darkening room, the taste of scotch sour on his tongue, the empty sounds of the mansion echoing around him.

Despite his new status as a married alpha with a beautiful young omega that was his for the claiming, he couldn’t bring himself to actually go to the omega up in their joint suite. Castiel had never actually confided his feelings in the young omega, so for all the young man knew, Castiel was only acting as a dutiful head of the family, nothing more. What if he only saw this as a way out of his predicament, not as an actual mating? What if he didn’t want Castiel? Castiel was so much older than he, so much more dull and dutiful, and everything that Michael wasn’t. What if the very qualities that had attracted the young man to Michael drove him away from Castiel?

Castiel would have sat there all night, worrying, wondering, aching…but then he felt the shift in the stillness, heard the soft rustle that wasn’t quite normal for the settling mansion. He slowly lifted his eyes to the doorway and found the omega—his omega—standing there, his thin white shift barely covering to the tops of his mid-thigh. He hesitated, his green eyes wide and luminous, his lips pursed in indecision.

He opened his mouth as if to speak, but then shut it again. He obviously felt as unsure as Castiel in this moment, and that more than anything sparked a glimmer of hope in Castiel’s chest.

“Dean…” Castiel rasped by way of greeting, his eyes fixed on the omega’s slim form. Dean took it for the invitation it surely was, and he stepped across the threshold into the room. Almost as if a seal were broken, both alpha and omega let out slow, matching breaths. Dean slowly approached the chair, his hands gripping the sides of his shift, and then he was pulling it up and over his head, leaving himself bare for Castiel’s eyes.

His stomach was still flat, but it would grow into a bump eventually. And even when that happened, Castiel knew that Dean would still be just as lovely as he was now.

Dean stepped up between Castiel’s sprawled legs and plucked the tumbler from his hand. He stared into his alpha’s blue eyes as he took a fortifying sip, then set the glass down on the table at Castiel’s elbow. He climbed up onto the chair, straddling Castiel’s thighs as he settled down onto his lap. His arms clasped around his neck, tangling in the dark hair at the base there as he lifted himself up to hover over Castiel’s mouth. His lush pink lips brushed against the scotch flavored mouth ever so softly, once, twice.

“Are you sure?” Castiel whispered hoarsely, his lips brushing against Dean’s unintentionally, but still enough to drive him mad with want for it.

Dean smiled gently, the shape of the smile teasing Castiel. “I married a good alpha today,” he paused, his gaze boring right into Castiel’s, and Castiel felt the truth of the words. Dean truly did believe that he’d married a good man; he truly did want Castiel for his mate. Dean drew a deep breath, his smile growing nervous as he whispered, “and I intend to spend my wedding night with my husband.”

Castiel needed no more affirmation. His big hands slid around Dean’s lithe body, pulling the omega tight against him. He pressed up to claim that soft mouth, swallowing down the surprised gasp as he finally took what was his.

It’s been a little while since I posted anything, but this popped into my head earlier as I was trying to nap, and I just had to write it down. Let me know what you think! 

We aren't dating

We’re just best friends in college who spend all of our time together and share everything AU

Two people who genuinely believe at first that they’re just friends. Like they sleep over at each other’s place all the time, call the other’s mom ‘Mom’. They feed the other/buy the other booze if they’re broke because ‘we do everything together and I’m going out and you’re coming with me and I’m not gonna do this in front of you while you’re hungry and sober’. They share food, no matter what, even if it’s just a bite because it tastes good or ‘you gotta try this’. They take turns buying each other meals/drinks or sharing both and ‘no we’re really not dating we’re saving money on food and drink specials’. They wear each other’s clothes and hold hands, platonically - they insist, or to ward off creeps that won’t leave their bff alone. They cuddle. They help each other be both responsible and irresponsible. They’re a package deal, one’s coming? So is the other.

Then one night they’re at a party and they drunkenly make out and fool around a little, and that’s fine because best friends do that right? Right???

Then one (possibly both or more if it’s an ot3) begins to realize they have feelings for the other and man, I am just such a sucker for friends to lovers (BONUS points if it’s enemies to friends to lovers) tropes that have a slow build.

the stars that touch the earth

Summary: Marinette and Alya go on a spontaneous road trip out of the city to see the stars that don’t appear in Paris’ sky.

A/N: Finally getting around to posting my Alyanette piece I wrote for PML’s Sky Zine! I forgot about it and I could’ve posted like a week ago, woops.


Blankets lay scattered across the balcony-turned-garden. Fairy lights were draped across the latticework, a few wrapped around the branches of a small tree that grew there. A couple of plates sat on the edges of the blankets, crumb-covered and forgotten as the hands that had used them just moments before intertwined with each other instead.

Alya and Marinette had their backs on the blankets and their eyes on the sky as they gazed upon the false stars in the horizon made by the city. Their breathing came in tandem as they drank in the night, moonlight illuminating the hope they clung to as they learned more and more about the world they lived in.

Sounds of the nearby river and passing cars filled the air, just barely quiet enough for the radio’s static-ridden music to play over it. All of it was almost too loud for Alya to hear Marinette when she whispered, “Hey, Peaches… if you could change one thing about Paris, what would it be?”

Keep reading

Just following your bliss. Just following your bliss. Just following your bliss. JUST FOLLOWING YOUR BLISS!

We want this conversation to be sort of a reorientation for you. We want You to start giving yourself permission to go where the fun is! To go follow the path of least resistance. To go where you believe you will feel the best. We’re asking you for just a little while to be more irresponsible. Because the responsible thing that you’ve got going on
is not working out that well for You.

Because when you start being responsible instead of following your own bliss, then you feel resentful of those people who are thriving in the face of responsibility. The most irresponsible people you know are thriving the most!

’‘That’s just not fair! Those basketball players!! How dare they follow their dream and make millions of dollars? Those dropouts of college or those that never went to college - Bill Gates! How is it that he could follow his bliss and just do what feels good to him? How dare he thrive when the rest of us are following our responsibilities and doing what we are supposed to do and keeping the rules?”

And we say, There are some rules and some Laws that your guidance has been pointing you toward, that as you start listening to the way you feel!

Get on a Rampage of FUN for a little while and watch what the Universe yields to You. And show Yourself the ability that You have to get rid of doubt before it starts tomorrow. By staying in a happy feeling good mood.
Watch how traffic treats you and others treat you. Watch how you rendezvous with people. Watch how the nice people of the planet find their way to you. Watch how you move around in a sort of bubble of Wellbeing while the rest of the world is doing whatever it’s doing that’s none of Your business.

—  Abraham