she felt like she was in danger so she reacted in self defense

You Belong With Me- Part 3 (Shawn Mendes Imagine)

requested: yes

pairing: reader x Shawn Mendes

word count: 1,677

a/n: this may totally suck, but here’s finally a part 3. please tell me what you think and what you want to see more of. thank you guys for staying on top of me about this lol ;) 

part one / part two

“You two slept together?” your best friend repeats back to you, her voice carrying out a little too loudly for the confined space of the local coffee shop the two of you met in that afternoon. 

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Shance Fluff Week Day 5 - Cuddles/Hugs [Omega Verse]

It had been random, Coran suddenly speaking to the paladins about a surprise supply run.
Shiro hadn’t seen any problem with it, and gave the okay almost immediately. After a time, Allura agreed, and soon they were in orbit of a yellowish planet with an apparently a very famous market.
They had all agreed to the wait a varga, so that Pidge and Allura could run the Castle’s system and see how much money they had. Lance seemed to be ecastic at the idea of going shopping. He already had a list, brought up randomly in the middle of a veg session.
Shiro was in the common room, snuggling with a very happy mate (“Do you think they’ll have more of that space bacon, Shiro? Maybe they’ll have something like cucumbers too, because then I can give you one of those face masks that you see in movies all the time, and OH! Maybe they’ll have more blankets! I think my heat’s coming up—shut up, wipe that grin off your face—and Hunk said that I can’t ruin his blankets again, whatever the hell that means.”) when Allura had called for him over the intercom.
One pout, kiss, hug, and whiney omega later, Shiro was on the bridge, with Coran and Allura waiting for him.
Shiro smiled, but quickly grew concerned when Allura didn’t return the gesture. “Shiro, we need to talk to you about Lance.”
Oh, no. This couldn’t be good. “Of course, Princess. What’s going on?”
“Coran was looking through the Castle’s databases on information of this planet’s species earlier. I think he found something interesting you might want to see. Coran?” Allura waved a hand. Most people would have been concerned by the dismissive gesture, but Shiro knew Allura well Enoch to know she was just stressed.
“Yes, well, Shiro, I was looking up on basic etiquette, because you can’t go wrong with that,” he gave a short laugh. “when I found something odd.” An image suddenly popped up on the Coran’s computer. “Take a look.”
Shiro walked forward, just enough before his eyes widened. “They have pack dynamics?”
“Exactly,” Allura spoke. The image was a graph, but plain as day, Shiro could see the word ‘alpha’ multiple times, in Common and Altean.
“What does it mean?” All of the paladins had trouble reading Altean graphs. They were backwards in a sense, but far too complicated for Shiro to read.
“It’s a population chart. It lists the different classifications, and how many there are. On this one specifically, it says that there’s an extremely low rate of alphas.” Allura bit her lip. “Normally, this wouldn’t be worrying. But Coran found something else.”
“I found some accounts of past visits to this planet, and found something disturbing. While the planet and it’s inhabitants are perfectly fine, the planet’s leaders are all Alphas. It’s not rare, I know, but I’ve found records of the planet’s getting violent around people they deem omegas, to the point of loss of limbs!”
“What?” Shiro moved to stand next to Coran. “Why?”
“They do not take rejection well, especially from omegas. They do not care if they are mated, or if they are pledged to someone else.” Allura crossed her arms. “So, Shiro. We have decided, that maybe, Lance doesn’t come to the planet.”
Shiro’s mouth opened. “What?”
“Shiro, we know you love him, and that Lance wants to go, but we can’t let him. He’d be in danger.”
“Especially with his heat coming up in a day!” Coran piped.
Shiro turned to face the older Altean. “How do you know that?”
Coran smile faltered, and then completely disappeared. “Oh.”
“You’ve been tracking his heats?” Shiro whispered.
Allura sighed. “Shiro, just listen-,”
“No.” Shiro shook his head. “I’m not going to.” He took a step back. “Look, if you don’t want Lance to go to the supply run, fine. But I’m not going either.”
Allura frowned. “Fine.” She turned back to her own computer, tapping furiously and pointedly. “Make a list. Hunk can get your things.”
Shiro took a defensive stance. “Tell me that you’ll stop tracking Lance’s heats.”
She dropped her hands. “Shiro, we can’t. We’re trying to do our best for Lance-,”
Shiro growled. “He’s my omega.”
Allura turned. “And he’s my responsibility.”
“I decide what’s best for him.”
“He decides what’s best for himself.”
Shiro barred his teeth, anger clouding his decisions. “I want my omega to be happy!”
“I want that too!” Allura cried. “I’m just trying to protect him!”
“That’s my job!”
“I know it is! But I’m just trying to help you, Shiro. I don’t disregard your capabilities of protecting your mate, but I care for Lance too. I want to help you keep all of the paladins safe, but I can’t do that if you don’t let me.”
Shiro huffed.
“Please Shiro.” Allura stepped forward and placed her hands on his arms. “I know they’re your pack, but I want to help.”
Shiro frowned. He was still angry, but at them same time… “Fine.” He growled. “But Lance gets to go tomorrow if he’s not in heat.”
“If that’s what you want.” Allura gave him a strained smile.
Shiro wrinkled his nose, but admittedly, he was a lot calmer. “Am I dismissed, Princess?”
Allura took a step back, to her screens. “Go ahead.”
Shiro turned around, giving Coran a look as he walked past, making his way back to his mate.

Lance wasn’t on the couch when he came back to the common room. It worried him.
Still running partially on alpha hormones, Shiro made a stressed noise. The first room he checked was Lance’s (he wasn’t there) then Hunk’s, which was only a few hallways down. He stopped to check on Keith, not surprised to find it empty. He was probably in the training room.
Being outside of Hunk’s room was like hell on his nose. It was the middle of the Castle, and almost everyone walked past it. Smells overwhelmed him as he opened the door, desperately hoping Lance was on there so he could drag him out and leave, but he wasn’t ready to see Keith in the middle of the room, with a flushed Hunk pressed up next to him.
Keith noticed him immediately, face full of horror as he fell off Hunk’s bed and ran up to the door way, screeching like the devil was upon him. “Get out! Get Out! Get OUT!”
Shiro closed the door, hand over his mouth as he tried to stifle his laughter. He’d have to use this as blackmail, before Pidge found out. She had the best dirt on all of them, and she didn’t need more.
He started back on his Lance-hunt, now with more vigor. He was still laughing a little, but he was more nervous than he had been before. What if Coran and Allura were right, and Lance had gone into heat while he was away?
The rational side of him told him that the chances were astronomical that Lance’s body was reacting that fast, he hadn’t even started nesting yet! But the alpha, mated side of him was anxious, worried that Lance was all alone, venerable without his alpha.
The search ended in Shiro’s room, relief washing over him as he found his mate on his bed, in a pile of blankets with some semblance to a nest. The smell of an omega in the beginnings of a heat was prominent, as he closed the door quietly, as not to startle his omega.
Lance was breathing shallowly as Shiro walked up to him.
He placed a gentle hand on Lance’s back, coaxing his mate to peak out from the sheets and look up at him with tussled hair and wide eyes.
Shiro pulled a blanket aside, squeezing in beside his omega. Lance immediately latched onto him, pressing his bare chest to Shiro’s clothed one, purring.
Shiro’s eyes widened. Lance’s heat hadn’t come on this fast, had it? He quietly lifted the bottommost blanket, looking down to check and see if Lance had pants on.
Lance giggles a little, and pulls Shiro’s face back to his. “I’m decent.”
Shiro smiles softly, and puts the blanket back. Lance laughs when Shiro attacks him with kisses, tenderly proud of his omega for having so much self control. “How bad is it?”
“It just started.” Lance said. “I didn’t have time to make much of a nest.”
Shiro smiled and pressed a kiss to his mate’s forehead. “I think you made a great nest. You don’t need to make it perfect. No one’s coming for you.”
Lance smiled softly. “Because you’re here?”
Shiro chuckled softly, and pressed a warm kiss to Lance’s forehead. “Exactly.”
Lance purred quietly. Shiro pulled him close, enclosing him in his arms and gently rubbing his neck against Lance, scenting him.
There was a moment of peace between them, Lance purring quietly and Shiro occasionally kissing his forehead.
Shiro was happy, ready to fall asleep, when Lance suddenly jerked against him.
Shiro jumped back a little, eyeing his mate with wide eyes as Lance suddenly sat up with his hands in his hair. “Shit! But if I’m going into heat, that means,” he turned to Shiro. “I can’t go on the supply run tomorrow.”
Shiro smiled ruefully. “Actually,” He pulled his mate down to the bed. “Lance, the reason Allura called me today is because she felt it wasn’t safe for you to go tomorrow.”
Lance looked up at him. “Why?”
“There were people on it that wanted to hurt you.” Shiro grumped. “And we were worried about you.” Shiro pouted, just a little bit. “I could’ve protected you. But Allura didn’t want to take chances.”
Lance giggled softly, expression slightly dazed as his heat intensified. His fell on Shiro’s chest, still giggling. “My alpha is so strong.” Lance twisted against him, twisting around so that he was laying on Shiro’s arm. “I have a good alpha.” He nuzzled gently into Shiro’s shoulder. “Good alpha.”
Shiro smiled softly and kissed his forehead. “I have a good omega.”
Lance preened at the praise, and gave Shiro a full body hug.
Shiro ran his fingers through Lance’s hair, laughing softly as Lance sighed into his shoulder. “Te amo.” There was a beat, and then, “Coño carajo.” He winced.
Shiro smiled softly. “Lance?”
Lance pulled away from him, pupils blown wide. He nodded and held a thumb up.
Shiro kissed his forehead. “Good.” He said simply, before standing, and walking away.
Lance gasped, arms reaching out to try and stop his mate. “Shiro?”
He hummed a reply, looking with kind eyes to his omega on the bed.
Lance sighed as Shiro moved around the bedroom, obviously not happy at being left alone, but would allow it as long as Shiro didn’t leave his eye sight.
Shiro grabbed his writing tablet, a gift from Keith on his last almost-birthday, that he occasionally used to leave messages on his door, though he knew Hunk had stolen it a couple times, taking advantage of the magnets on the back to make ingredient lists and leave them on the refrigerator.
Shiro grabbed a few extra blankets he kept hidden, just for cases like this, before the whiney omega on the bed was able to catch a hold of his shirt and pull him back.
He sighed and rolled his eyes as Lance rolled into him, straddling his hips and giving Shiro a proud smirk as he yanked the zipper on his vest down and threw it across the room, purring happily and slipping off the bigger man. One second later, and Lance had his face pressed up against Shiro’s chest, smiling happily as he rubbed against him through his shirt.
“Lance,” Shiro said quietly. He didn’t get an answer. “Lance.” He said, more commanding this time.
There was a grumpy noise.
“I need you to talk to me.”
“Fine.” Lance rumbled impatiently.
“What do you want Hunk to get at the market tomorrow? I’m going to give him this list and my money, and hopefully he’ll try and- oof!”
Lance gasped and swung a leg over Shiro’s stomach, effectively pushing all of the air out of his lungs. He swung a hand around Shiro’s shoulders, grinning happily and practically jumping in excitement. “Okay, so, first, I need a couple more blankets, and I’m going to assume Hunk knows to get more of that space bacon, so let’s not get that. Maybe cucumber substitutes? And oh! Babe, I need something new to read.”
Shiro rolled his eyes, but wrote everything down. He made sure to keep his handwriting small, because he knew at some point within the next hour Lance would want to add something else.
Lance put a finger on his lips. “Um, how about, if he can find it, some pens or pencils, or something to write with?” Shiro wrote down ‘something to write with’ and cast Lance a look.
“Anything else?”
“Um…” Lance whirled his lips. “How about…” A sudden flush came over his face. “Something soft? Like a stuffed animal or a toy, or a super duper soft blanket I can hold. I don’t know…” He smiled and looked down with a bright blush. “Just, something like that.”
Shiro smiled, and carefully wrote ‘something soft’.
He set the tablet aside, he could write down his things down later, and leaned over the edge of the bed to grab the blankets he’d dropped.
Lance gasped when Shiro handed him the bundle. The omega immediately set to work, pushing Shiro of the way, and took the blankets already strewn across the bed, patting them down, stretching to their full length, and doubling them in places that would be comfortable.
Shiro chuckled to himself as he watched his mate work. Lance stuck out his tongue, and wiggled his butt, something that should have been enticing, but was honestly too cute to be sexy.
A good amount of time later, Lance squealed and exclaimed, “Done!”
Shiro laughed as Lance pulled him forward, into the mess of blankets, smiling as Lance moved around, pulling blankets over the both of them, and snuggling up to Shiro’s chest.
Shiro made a pleased noise in the back of his throat while Lance purred against his chest.
Lance sighed when Shiro opted to run his fingers through Lance’s hair. He pressed kiss against a warm forehead, smiling and mumbling, “My omega,” He kissed Lance again, feeling his heart melt a little bit as Lance sighed against him. “My perfect omega.”
Lance giggled, smiling and looping his arms around Shiro’s neck, giving a contented sigh before smirking. “Now, get down here and cuddle me, alpha.”


iamanemotionaltimebomb  asked:

Something with reader who has had a crush on Genji since his blackwatch days, but only after he's learned to accept himself with zenyattas help does Genji realise they were sincere?


Note: This one was a bit of a struggle for me, as I am still doing my best to characterize cast members effectively and to the best of my ability. This features a degree of angst, but not too much. For as much as I love the Shimada, they give me the most anxiety when writing! This also became so much longer than I initially envisioned, so I apologize for the length! I do hope I wrote your prompt well enough for your liking!

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Part 1 || AO3

Based on this post by @little-autumn

Summary: The gang portal jumps across universes trying to get home after Marinette accidentally trips out of their original universe the first time.

They drop in on Chat Noir and Marinette for the fifth time.

Marinette freaks out. Adrien freaks out, internally.

Then Adrien sees some things.

This is crack. Pure crack. I warned you.

“This is the fifth time we’ve dropped in on me making out with Chat Noir!”

Marinette was freaking out.

“In my room!”

Adrien was freaking out, too. Internally, that is.

“In various states of undress, don’t forget,” Alya supplied with a smirk. Nino, beside her, was also wearing the same expression, which Adrien thought was rather unhelpful of him.

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Call it Heaven

(Pietro x Reader) (M)

You’re a Hydra weapon accidentally brought to life by Tony. Afraid and confused you forge a connection with the first person you see, never wanting to leave his side.

Requested by @namiheart 

A/n: A lot of this is in Pietro’s point of view, I thought it would be fun to try and seemed to fit in more with what I imagined for the story. It also ended up being a few parts, oops. Bit of swearing but mostly fluff in this part. :) x

She moved through the Fair (x)

Blestemata /Goddamn

Doare curul/Pain in the ass

Ce acum?/What now?

Requests  Masterlist 

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4

Part 1

Pietro passes the folder between his hands impatiently, dodging people with ease as he heads to the lab with another blestemata report. Now he was an Avenger he had to do them after every mission and it was starting to be a real doare curul. He could think of a thousand things he’d rather be doing, mostly involving food and curvaceous women, not spending hours typing up stupid mission reports. They were nearly always late or needed editing, he just couldn’t type accurately using his speed and was too impatient to type normally.

Florescent lights flickered above him, the beeping of alarms and shouting an ominous sign as he neared the lab. Ce acum?

“Are you trying to destroy the world again Stark?” Pietro yelled as he rounded the corner into the lab, his trainers squeaking on the floor.  

At the same moment the cryo chamber they had been working on explodes. Pietro hears the loud boom and covers his ears, watching the orange flames billowing outwards in slow motion. The force of the explosion blasts the glass and metal frontage off the chamber, heading straight to where Banner and Stark are taking cover.

With an annoyed sigh Pietro runs over, easily deflecting the door to the other side of the lab and letting it land against a bare wall in a split second. He stands in front of the mad scientists, patting down the singed fabric of his shirt.

“For once I was joking.” Pietro mutters in between coughs, the room filling with smoke while one of Stark’s robots douses the flames. Both men are ignoring Pietro’s glare and staring behind him, oblivious to him having just saved their lives.    

They frantically work on their machines, tapping things in and talking between themselves excitedly. Pietro couldn’t understand them talking so fast and technically but he’s curious. He peers over at the smoking cryo chamber to see the outline of a girls body, she was beautiful and surprisingly unharmed by the fire.

Stark released what was left of the various tubes and equipment that had been keeping her alive and unconscious, some left open cuts which healed over instantly. White hair curled down to her waist framing the delicate features of her face and the curves of her body. Iridescent markings formed intricate patterns over her pale skin, she was almost ethereal, frumoasa. His eyes lingered on the swell of her breasts fascinated as they rose up and down with each shallow breath.  

“Stark, she’s breathing.”  

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Red Square - Chapter 2 (Olicity AU Bratva Fic)

Thank you equally for your patience and enthusiasm about this story. It’s getting a little bigger/longer than I had planned. I really hope you enjoy it. 

You can thank @tinaday3w for inspiring me to complete this chapter this week. She has been encouraging me so much and then she had a birthday yesterday, so I beavered through to complete it. Many thanks again to @mel-loves-all for the lovely artwork she made for this story. And hugs to @scu11y22 for awesomeness. 

In this chapter, we get some backstory. We get some Diggle. We get some nice things, actually. And there are some intriguing developments. 

You can read the first chapter here

Ao3 Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

The sound filled the main room of the apartment. It was the buzz of a tattoo machine, except the machine wasn’t actually there. It was in the bathroom, where Felicity was branding Oliver. The noise in the main room emanated from Felicity’s tablet - a clever ruse to distract listening devices while carrying on a secure conversation in private.

It had been Felicity’s idea to unblock the bug in Oliver’s sitting room. Disabling it for too long at a stretch might call attention and, perhaps, send someone to replace it. For now, occasional outages would be in keeping with the poor quality of Anatoly’s aging tech and easily dismissed. And all it would pick up was the noise of a mechanism doing its job.

Felicity preferred to work in the bathroom for a number of reasons. First, the lighting was better – and while the tattoo she was tasked to execute was not complicated, she always preferred to see where she was placing her needles. The bathroom also had the potential to be the most sanitary space in the apartment if properly cleaned first. She had brought disinfectant with her and carefully wiped down the area before beginning. Oliver looked grateful that germs would be kept to a minimum. Moscow was not a place where he wanted to be seriously ill with an infection. The third reason, the one Felicity would not speak aloud, was that the bathroom was quite easily the least dangerous room in the apartment. And by dangerous, she was referring (internally, of course) to the lack of soft horizontal surfaces. The thought of working on Oliver Queen, shirtless no less, on a couch or, god forbid, his bed, was more than she could handle right now.

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A Battlefield is an Excellent Place for a Date

((a request for @keitlura here on Tumblr who wanted to see Keith and Allura flirting in the midst of combat. Alas I can’t really imagine these two sincerely flirting on the battlefield, so I’m sorry if this isn’t really what you wanted.))

The ambush had, so far, been rather underwhelming.

Neither Keith nor the princess ever thought they’d ever get to this point. At one point an ambush would have set their blood and adrenaline rushing, but after having experienced ambushes from some of the most proficient assassins in the galaxy… being jumped by some run down sentries with no coordination was just a letdown.

Still, the sudden attack had to be dealt with.

Keith drove his bayard into the chest of one of the sentries and dislodged it with the aide of his foot before swinging the blade just fast enough to slice through another. His eyes scanned his surroundings trying to locate the princess’s familiar silver hair.

“Princess?!” he called, his voice tinged with concern.

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Give Chaol a Break 2K17

(Quick shoutout to @illyriantremors for expressing her opinions about Chaol to me and making me think about all of this! <3)

All right. Here’s something I feel like you don’t see too often on Tumblr, especially since all of our attention tends to be on Rowan and Aelin, or just on the ACOTAR series in general. But y’all. We need to take a second to talk about Chaol Westfall. My disclaimer here is that I am someone who never particularly liked Chaol, never really supported Chaolaena (I was Dorilaena ALL THE WAY), BUT. I have recently read Throne of Glass and Crown of Midnight for a second time, and my opinions have…changed, somewhat.

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anonymous asked:

Kate punching someone for Seth, and Seth being super proud of her right hook

Here’s Kate punching someone to defend Seth’s honor aka a first meeting fic. It’s probably pretty stupid but this is fanfic so I can have fun with it. For @sethkvtes​ too because I love her. ❤️ ❤️

Kate was glad that she hadn’t joined her friends in drinking a lot. She’d sipped on a bottle of hard cider over several minutes but didn’t want much more. Now she was better for it because while they were tripping all over themselves and running off from the crowd to get sick in the already filthy bathrooms of the concert venue, she was enjoying the music.

She didn’t love the country genre as much as the rest of them but the atmosphere around her was nearly euphoric, with everyone shouting the lyrics back at the band, who were all fairly drunk themselves, and a sense of freedom just from being one in a crowd. Her father wouldn’t approve of her attendance but Kate was in college and this was just one of the experiences.

“You aren’t singing,” Jessica said, leaning heavily into Kate’s side.

Kate wasn’t sure if it was so that she could hear her or so that Jessica wouldn’t topple right over without the support.

“I’m going to go get you a bottle of water,” Kate said, balancing her against their friend Mason before pushing her way through the crowd.

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One and the Same ch. 17

Ch.1: Food Source               Ch.6: Reckless Behavior

Ch.2: The Rogue                 Ch.7: The Day After

Ch.3: Blood Troubles            Ch.8: Sudden Suspicions

Ch.4: The Brink                   Ch.9: Keeping Quiet

Ch.5: Dates & Damnation     Ch.10: Fish Trouble

Ch.11: The Last Night           Ch.16: Action & Reaction

Ch.12: Red Herring

Ch.13: Bad Blood

Ch.14: (In)Sincerity

Ch.15: Pack Loyalty

Echoes of Love 

(this is a song by Jesse and Joy it’s also in Spanish but idk I recommend that you listen to it.)

It was almost funny to be worried about going to school when so much was happening in the Mystic world. Will hadn’t returned to the witch since the night the vampires broke out, and if he was honest it was a relief.

“So, you’ll help me around school?” his new neighbor asked. He gave him a hopeful smile and Will managed to return it.

“Sure, Paolo, don’t worry about it.”

“Okay, well I have to go to the front office first, but… I’ll see you later?” Will nodded and Paolo ducked into the office.

Meanwhile, he and Lou Ellen continued down the halls. Lou Ellen stopped walking suddenly and gripped his arm. He turned back to her, but before he could ask, she breathed, “Looks like your troublemaker’s back.”

Will felt a ball of lead fall in his stomach and he turned back down the hall. Sure enough, down the hall a figure was standing, rigid in a leather jacket, dark jeans, and worn boots. Will felt ice water course through his veins as he turned his head first, followed by his body.

And suddenly Will was staring at his ex-vampire-boyfriend’s face. He suddenly felt out of breath and weak. Was this really the first time he’d seen him in person since the morning of the trial? Nico’s eyes were fixed on him, dark and inviting. He looked nervous, and somehow completely in control.

“Oh for crying out loud,” Lou Ellen muttered under her breath. “Are you both going to stand there like statues or are you going to talk or what?” she said, mainly to Will, but Nico scoffed as though he’d heard her. Then he started walking toward them.

Will felt his body tense, preparing for an attack. Until Nico was right in front of him in all his vampire grace and confidence. “Will,” he breathed.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he growled.

Nico rolled his eyes and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I mean, I go to school here so….” He shrugged. “Oh you’re talking about the fact that I’m a wanted man? Ah, I’m used to it. Everyone wants me.” He smirked and it took all of Will’s self-restraint not to claw at his stupid face.

Really?” Lou Ellen snarled.

Nico slumped and sighed. “Sorry, I’m a little nervous. Sarcasm is my defense.” He looked at Will and bit his lip. “It’s not every day I have to face an ex that wants to kill me.” Will sneered and Nico raised his chin. “I’m here to talk to you. Without you trying to choke me or throw me into a cell.”

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In Defense of The Operator

Ever since Bryan’s comments in the Book 4 commentary provided us with wind beneath the sails of the good ship S.S. Makoperator, the conversation has been surrounding what Mako deserves in a love interest. Yes, I could mention the fact that it was clearly a joke, or that Mako’s arc was actually pointedly devoid of romance so saying he deserves “better” than The Operator is kind of like saying he deserves “better” than that tuna sandwich we never saw him eat.   

But what about what The Operator deserves? We’ve been calling the poor woman “unimportant” for too long now. Is she deserving of that?

You may not have realized it, but we met The Operator back in 1x10. Here she is operating the switchboard with two other officers:

Look at her determination! Above she’s yelling, “Chief, all the river rescue ships have been sabotaged!” Keep in mind, this is the day the city falls to Amon, and The Operator is one of the first to be fielding and reacting to the unsettling news:

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SSMonth Day 18

Title: Convenient Excuses
Summary: When Sasuke drops his guard at the worse possible moment, Sakura reacts instinctively. But has she wormed her way through his defenses as well?
Disclaimer: I don’t own Naruto, but HEY, I might as well because look who’s NOT being an asshat.
Prompt: Dropping Your Guard from day eighteen of the SasuSakuMonth Prompts.
Rating: T
Words: 2,731
Date Completed: 7/20/2014
Warning(s): Minor gore, not bad.
Author’s Note: Guys, I love protective Sasuke. Protective Sasuke is the best.


With their A-rank mission drawing to a close, Sasuke and Sakura had formed a relaxed formation as they drew close to the border, scroll in hand. Those who had guarded the scroll were long dead, and their base devastated. Usually, a mission of this kind required a squad of Jonin, but Tsunade had determined that it was something the two of them could handle.

And she was right, Sakura thought happily. This mission had been a perfect opportunity to prove her worth a kunoichi, and she couldn’t help but feel successful. Twice she had caught Sasuke by surprise with her extensive understanding of strategy, and thrice she had glimpsed impressed looks as she eliminated her foes.

No, she hadn’t been blessed by the Kage of six paths, but Sakura was a ninja worth reckoning with and it was about time Sasuke realized it, dammit!

Out of the corner of her eye, she observed her partner. He had only spoken when necessary since their retrieval of the scroll, and seemed lost in thought. Had she been younger, the silence would have eaten away at her and caused her to reach out to him. With age had come patience, however, and Sakura was now more than capable of holding her tongue. Sasuke would open up when he was ready and not a second before.

Until then, she would wait.

She had just begun to swing her gaze back towards the path when she caught a flicker of a shadow launch itself at Sasuke. Her green eyes widened in horror, and her body moved automatically.

She didn’t think, she didn’t speak, she just reacted.

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apelliccio  asked:

How culpable is Dany, if at all, for the death of Viserys? In Dany V of GOT, is it possible that her translation to Drogo of his threat and demands at the feast includes instructions to kill him? She remembers his smile later and feels guilt remembering his eyes, also responding "no" when he asked to avert her eyes from his death. Love what you guys do, keep it up!

Not at all, really. Daenerys has a right to self-defense, and Drogo has a right to defend his wife and unborn child. So does any random schmuck who thought that she was in danger. Heck, if I saw a dude threatening a pregnant lady with a blade, I’d step in and feel fully justified in doing so. Then you factor in that Viserys broke a sacred tradition among the Dothraki, I can’t say that Drogo reacted inappropriately or unreasonably.

I think if she included words in her translation to kill him, it would have come up somewhere in her chapters. We’ve been in her head, I’d imagine she would have clearly thought about it if it happened as you outline. I think she made her translations to Drogo as accurately as she could, no secret instructions or anything like that.

Now, as to why she remembered his smile and felt guilty, that’s part of her incredibly complicated relationship with Viserys. Yes, he hit her. Yes, he abused her both physically and mentally. But he was also the one who taught her letters and where she came from. He was the man who sold his mother’s crown so she could eat. He died begging, pathetic, and utterly alone, and it’s not beyond possible to feel sorry for someone as broken as he was in that moment, no matter how terrible they have been. Daenerys was within her rights to feel any way she pleased about Viserys, and as it stood she had familial regard, hate, and pity. Given how fucked up their relationship was, I’d say feeling all of that isn’t unusual.

For more on Viserys, read NFriel’s take here.

Thanks for the question, apelliccio.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

Four white women talk about race

About thirteen years ago, I was on a work trip with several colleagues when we heard the news of police shooting an unarmed Black man (one of many such incidents in this country’s history). The four of us (all white women) talked about this. Three of us felt sick by it and confused too, which I think is a sign of our privilege. Feeling confused and surprised by evidence of racism is the luxury of those who don’t have to deal with it every day. The fourth woman, who I liked and admired generally, said something I haven’t been able to forget: “Well, maybe the police had learned through experience that men who look like him usually have guns.”

We all stopped walking and looked at her. She couldn’t be saying what we thought she was saying, could she?

She went on to clarify. She didn’t hold the police officers at fault. After all, if in their experience Black men carried guns, then naturally they would assume this one had a gun, and so shooting him was in self defense.

“But he didn’t have a gun,” I said, in case she’d missed that part somehow. “He was afraid and running away from police, afraid they would shoot him, which they did. Even though he didn’t have a gun.”

“But he might have,” she insisted. “They didn’t know. Plus he shouldn’t have been running. He should have just surrendered.”

By her own logic, I wanted to add, perhaps then he had reason to be afraid the police would shoot an unarmed Black man, even if he surrendered. Perhaps his experience had taught him that that was likely.

We tried to point out to her that this is what the problem is with stereotypes. Even in the extremely unlikely scenario that every single Black man these white police officers had ever met had been carrying a gun and intended to use it to kill cops, this one wasn’t. He should have been treated as an individual, as a human being, not by what others who looked like him had done in the past. He was killed for the color of his skin, not for his own actions. That is the danger of stereotypes. That’s what racism is.

She could not understand. She couldn’t grasp what we were trying to explain. She could only see the situation from a single point-of-view. I don’t want to paint the other three of us as heroes. I’m sure we are all spectacularly ignorant about a great number of things. But in this one instance, for whatever reason, we could see something that this other woman simply could not.

I wonder about this woman. I wonder if she only ever had friends who looked like her. I wonder if she’d ever read a book with a Black protagonist and learned to identify with him or her. I wonder if learning to recognize the pervasive racism in this country would have so upset the way she understood the world that she just couldn’t manage it. If it was scary for her. If ignorance was a security blanket that she, as a white person, could afford to cling to.

I’m reminded of her a lot this week. People are reacting to the news from Ferguson in vastly different ways. One of those ways is, “It’s not about race. Why do people have to make everything about race?” If someone were to say, “It’s obvious that racism is a real and huge issue, but in this case, carefully examining the evidence, I don’t think it applies here,” I could respect that. I’d disagree with you, but I’d respect that. But to claim “there is no racism” is alarmingly blind and willfully ignorant.

Until we all choose to see and try to understand the racism around us and in us, nothing is going to change. And we so desperately need change. So desperately the need aches. It stings. And for some, it kills.