so you can read the tin


hey guys! hot off the press, i literally just released my overwatch scented candles over on my etsy shop. these tin candles smell so good you guys (no bias but mccree’s and tracer’s are my favourites) and they look pretty cool too!

the scents are:

AT PEACE - green tea & jasmine.

AMERICANA - hot apple pie.

ANUBIS - egyptian musk.

DEATH’S BLOSSOM - white lily & ginseng.

VIGILANTE - cedarwood & black pepper.

HACKER FOR HIRE - sea shore & lime.

TIME FOR A CUPPA - darjeeling tea rose.

only offense characters are available for now, but ill be releasing defense, tank and support ones soon!

each candle is made from natural soy wax, burns approx. 20 hours, and costs $12.

you can read more about the scents, the candles themselves, and of course purchase them right HERE! please reblog to spread the word and i hope to see plenty of purchases from you guys soon <3

anonymous asked:

You always have such great fic recs! I have a looong cross-country flight coming up and am looking for some multi-chapter fics to wile away the hours in the flying tin can. Preferences in order of priority: *very* in-character (anything OOC kills it for me), slow burn/first time, not AU (ACD is good tho!) Any rating. Have read all the fandom classics so looking for less-known or newish. For reference two of my favorite ever fics are Quiet Man, & Safe Distance. Thank you Steph! You are the best!!

AHHH Nonny!! Sorry I just saw this, so I hope I’m not too late for your cross-country flight! All I saw was “multi-chapter long” and I put it aside to attach to 2 other asks of similar requests. BUT because this is time-sensitive, I’ll give you a few to tide you over! I’m actually working on a TONNE of fic rec lists:

(essentially I create a new textedit document every time I get a “different” request from others I have) and was going to add this ask to my “long fics” request I received a month or so ago. Okay, so instead, I’ll pull some long fics from my “Fave Fics Ever” List for you that I have so far (I still have 15 more pages of bookmarks to go through, plus all 1000 fics on my FFNet account, so, WHEE. Being meticulous is ridiculous). 

It’s hard to choose, so I limited it to my go-to long fics for you that I have ALREADY sorted on my lists you see in that window above there :D I’ve put them in word count order for you :D

TOP 20 FAVE 40K+ w. FICS || APRIL 2017

Goodness Gives Extras by mydwynter (E, 39,629 w. || Fluff & Angst, Case Fic, Oral / Anal, Humour, First Time, Miscommunication, Snark, Christmas) – Christmas time. ‘Tis the season to settle down with a drink, some food and a present or two, and to enjoy the quiet relaxation of the holiday. Instead, there’s a case that drags them all over, missing presents, disappointed kids, angry parents, and a freak snowfall. On top of that John has to deal with Sherlock, who is being even more of a prat than usual. He really shouldn’t have expected anything different. (okay I’m cheating with the word count on this one but it’s so good!! One of my ALL TIME FAVES)

Right Hand Man by SilentAuror (E, 42,031 w. ||  H/C, Injury, Slow Burn, Infidelity, Mary is Not Nice) – When John’s left arm becomes paralysed after a car accident, Mary asks Sherlock to take him back to Baker Street to recuperate, as she’s about to give birth. Despite the fact that the search for Moriarty is ongoing, Sherlock takes John in and takes responsibility for overseeing his rehabilitation as he adjusts to the loss of his arm. (FAVE FAVE FAVE)

Guidelines by WithLoweredVoices (M, 43,018 w. || Winglock || Angels, Fantasy, Angst, BAMF! John, War) – The Good Soldier, one of the oldest and strongest of the fallen, is offered a bargain: to live as John Watson and to Guide a fledgling archangel so that he will stay on the path of good. Of course, Sherlock Holmes has different ideas about his destiny. Fantasy AU. Warnings for violence, occasional gore, and a whole load of hurt and angst.

The Case of the Vanishing Pants by SwissMiss (E, 44,025 w. || Post-TRF, Case Fic, UST, Homophobia, Friends to Lovers) – Five times John and Sherlock lost their pants in the course of a case.

Left by lifeonmars (M, 45,153 w. || Magical Realism) – John Watson is left-handed. He’s tried not to let it affect his life, but as any Lefty knows, that’s almost impossible.

The Norwood Love Builders by flawedamythyst (T, 47,798 w. || Fake Relationship, Slow Burn, Post TRF Angst) – Sherlock and John go undercover to solve the murder of Joanna Oldacre, but things are complicated by the many feelings John has been repressing in the wake of Sherlock’s faked death and return.

Triage by scullyseviltwin (E, 51,612 w. || Character Injury, Introspection) – Sherlock’s mind goes exceedingly, devastatingly quiet and gray-blank. When he speaks it’s through a thick haze, it’s through molasses, he’s so disconnected from the words that it may as well be the unconscious shooter speaking.

Coventry by standbygo (E, 52,020 w. || Dollhouse AU, First Time/Kiss, BAMF John, Slow Burn, Falling in Love, Case Fic) – “Let me get this straight,” John said, wondering when his life had become a science fiction film. “Some guy orders up a personality, a person, to his specifications, and they program this into a real live person, who has consented to do this, and she goes to this person and acts as his wife, or lawyer, or Royal Marine, or Navy Seal or what have you, and she has all the skills, all the knowledge, everything? Then you say the magic words, and she follows you back to The House, and they erase it all until her next appointment?”

Guilty Secrets by Ellipsical (E, 55,055 w. || Drumsticks, First Time, Love Confession, Self-Sexual-Discovery) – John has a prostate exam and discovers something surprising about himself. Experimentation follows. Sherlock wants to help. They’re in love. You know the drill.

Wars We Fought, Things We’re Not by blueink3 (M, 55,204 w. || Parentlock, Fluff & Angst, Kidnapping, Whump, Post-TAB, UST, Slow Burn, Couple for a Case) –  Five months after John’s world has fallen apart, Mycroft sends the consulting detective and his doctor on a case that neither is prepared for.

The Progress of Sherlock Holmes by ivyblossom (E, 62,006 w || Sherlock POV, Pining, Angst, Slow Burn, Infidelity, Sherlock Learns About Himself, Happy Ending) – Sherlock struggles with his feelings for John, makes a mistake, and learns just how important he and John are to each other. Non-BBC Mary / John, but it’s a *complicated* relationship.

Perdition’s Flames by i_ship_an_armada (E, 63,435 w., || Treklock AU, Est. Rel, Genetic Engineering, Angst & Fluff, BAMF!John) – Sherlock would do anything to save him. Risk anything. Give anything. His money, his life. His soul. What he does, though, is change both of their destinies forever. Genetic re-engineering is the only option left. It turns out researchers underestimated the life expectancy and potential abilities of genetically re-engineered subjects. The British government and what would eventually become the United Federation of Planets, however, had not. Part 1 of PF Universe

The Green Blade by verityburns (T, 72,929 w. || Casefic, Bromance) – As a serial killer hits the headlines, the police are out of their depth and the next victim is out of time. With faith in Sherlock Holmes at an all time low, this is a case which will push loyalties to the limit…

The Moonlight and the Frost by CaitlinFairchild (E, 77,289 w. || Case Fic, Post-HLV, Self Harm, Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Oral/Anal/Rimming, Romance, Angst, Mary is Not Nice) – John has to somehow rebuild his life in the wake of Mary’s betrayal and Sherlock’s deceptions.

A Case of Identity by jkay1980 (T, 91,009 w. || Fake Relationship, Post-TRF, Case Fic) – John and Sherlock have succeeded in rebuilding their friendship after Sherlock’s fake suicide, but an unusual case puts their relationship to the test. They pretend to be engaged and attend a marriage counseling workshop. Under the pretext of the case, Sherlock turns out to be a master of seduction, and John finally learns he might like Sherlock more than he thought. Slowly, John discovers that he loves Sherlock not only in a friendly, brotherly way, but both men have to fight their own demons before they can think of taking their relationship to a new level… [[I love this fic SO MUCH]]

Shatter the Darkness (Let the Light In) by MojoFlower (E, 109,683 w. || GenieLock, Torture, H/C, Magical Realism) Fairy tales are for those who remember how to dream; not John Watson, broken and hiding from his bleak future in a beige bedsit. But then he discovers a lamp and finds himself in the dangerous riptide of an enigmatic man whose very existence is unbelievable, murder charges against his sister, and the growing pains of feeling alive once more. {{This is a REALLY great story, which tears at your heart consistently}}.

Breakable by MissDavis (E, 117,627 w. || Established, Fluff/Angst, Depression, Paralysis, Happy-ish Ending) – After John is seriously injured, Sherlock struggles to figure out how to help him, keep himself sane, and maybe, just maybe, get their life back to the way it’s supposed to be. Part 1 of Breakable Not Broken

Midnight Blue Serenity by BeautifulFiction (E, 151,907 w. || Friends to Lovers, Gay Bar / For a Case, Drugs, Pining, Case Fic, UST) – When Sherlock infiltrates a club in order to track down a serial killer, his altered appearance is enough to make John question his assumption that Sherlock is beyond his reach. However, is he the only one who appreciates his flatmate’s charms, or is Sherlock at risk of becoming the next victim?

A Fold in the Universe by darkest_bird (E, 152,857 w. || O-John, A-Sherlock || Body Swap, Crossing Universes, DubCon, H/C, Angst, Happy Ending) – Alpha Sherlock and Omega John are in a relationship. Prime Sherlock and Prime John are not. So what happens when a freak fold in the universe switches one John for the other?

Performance In a Leading Role by Mad_Lori  (E, 156,714 w. || Hollywood AU, Coming Out, Show Business) – Sherlock Holmes is an Oscar winner in the midst of a career slump. John Watson is an Everyman actor trapped in the rom-com ghetto. When they are cast as a gay couple in a new independent drama, will they surprise each other? Will their on-screen romance make its way into the real world?

anonymous asked:

what about the stairs in the forests!!! and what doc were you watching and would you recommend?

ok so I DON’T BELIEVE IN THE STAIRS IN THE FORESTS! mainly because I’m A Search and Rescue Officer for the U.S. Forest Service, and I Have Some Stories to Tell a) is posted on /r/nosleep so it’s definitely made up, b) the op admits to knowing about David Paulides, and lbr knowing about = being influenced by, so it’s definitely made up, and c) if you read all the way through to the end it stops being even vaguely believable and starts reading like a WTNV transcript, and then he plugs his book, so it’s DEFINITELY MADE UP. however, it is an amazing (read: terrifying) thread, some of it is obviously based on truths/insider SAR knowledge which means a lot of it is probably uncomfortably close to actually being true, and it’s a good Gateway Read into MISSING PEOPLE IN NATIONAL PARKS CONSPIRACY THEORIES, which is where I live now. (plus, if you read this before getting into anything else it imbues every single missing persons case with an unsettling sense of Eldritch horror, which is why I had to turn on three overheads and unfocus my eyes all the way to the bathroom last night at 2am.) 

so yeah, after reading that /r/nosleep thing for the first time I drew a line under it and moved on until SOMEONE (ahem@roundtop) sent me a link to an article called How 1,600 People Went Missing from Our Public Lands Without a Trace (on a legit and sensible outdoorsy people website), like ‘haha, stairs in the forest!’ and I SWAN DIVED DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE. thus: the documentary-watching, staying up till 2am and spending all day today trying to find copies of David Paulides’ books for less than $80 inc. postage. 

THIS DUDE DAVID PAULIDES. he was in law enforcement before, for some reason, deciding to become a ~*~cryptozoologist~*~ and certified gung-ho Bigfoot conspiracy theorist, and through that found out about how many people had disappeared without a trace from National Parks in the U.S., did 7,000 hours worth of digging, and wrote a bunch of books about it. his books are called Missing 411 and are about the ridiculous number of people who go missing in National Parks, the usually weird circumstances around their disappearances, the fact that when people are found (dead or alive) it’s often in places miles and miles and sometimes waaaaay higher up mountains than where they disappeared from, and all sorts of creepy crap to boot. like they can’t get bloodhounds to find a scent, or they find tiny children miles away from where they got lost, barefoot, without a scratch on the soles of their feet, human remains being found years later in places that were search dozens and dozens of times. not to mention the National Parks… People (? I really don’t know enough to be making this post) are aware of what’s happening but don’t keep a list of the people who’ve gone missing on their lands. 

(which is all part of why I’m A Search and Rescue Officer for the U.S. Forest Service is so freaky – enough of it (people being found miles away, kids being found up mountains, the people in charge being cagey about it all) sounds real that you can believe it was actually written by a SAR Officer. heebies!) 

it’s all real nightmare fuel, if you’re the sort of person who is absolutely terrified by all this Scary Forest Disappearing People Unexplainable Deaths stuff, i.e. me. luckily I can’t afford to buy any of them! phew! however, I haven’t let that stop me from a) SCARING MYSELF SHITLESS and b) BECOMING A TIN HATTER, and it shouldn’t stop you either: you can read loads of stuff over at /r/missing411, listen to one of his initial interviews (in which he talks about how he was approached by two park employees in plain clothes who were like ‘please investigate this, there’s SOMETHING going on and it’s so goddamn weird’) on Coast to Coast AM (which is, like, a paranormal radio station… I’m sorry), watch a bunch of Paulides’/CanAm Missing Project’s vids about disappearances on youtube, and listen to hours worth of interviews and late night spooky radio/podcast discussions with Paulides. 

the documentary I thought I was watching was Missing 411, which is based on his books and Kickstarted by the public in 2015, but it turns out that they’re apparently shopping it around at festivals so it’s not out yet. what I was actually watching (and quickly abandoned) was a weird supercut of all of David Paulides’ tv interviews and some cryptozoologist chatter about Bigfoot. Paulides, god love him, never ever SAYS Bigfoot in any of his books, and everything he presents is 100% factually accurate and extensively researched, but… I think we can safely say he thinks it’s Bigfoot. tbh, after reading about Jaryd Atadero I think it’s Bigfoot. I mean, goddamn. 

so, yeah. I’ve finished reading every search and rescue story on this blog (Hunt for the Death Valley Germans is LONG but awesome), I’ve got West of Memphis ready to watch after work tomorrow because I remembered how much I love that case and spooky true crime things, if you have any related LINKS or STUFF about This Shit then REBLOG THIS/MSG ME AND TELL ME, or if you have a copy of a Missing 411 book you wouldn’t mind mailing to me then LET ME KNOW, and in conclusion I can’t believe America is so fucking huge and unkind, goodnight.


‘secret witch aesthetic for anon ❤

some things u can do if you prefer/is forced to hide your craft:

-journaling and bolding/otherwise marking letters, so that you can write spells, only you can read.
-tin boxes as altars/ piggy banks as 'wish jars’
-bathboms as spells!
-use birthday candles as spell candles
-well obv tea
-using songs as spells, and whispering/play the song in your head as a prayer/spell/mantra


Bucky BarnesAU! x reader

Summary: you are the unofficial editor of Bucky’s writings. One day, you discover, in his computer, a document with your nickname.

A/N: I hope you enjoy this writing; it was too much fun to write it!

Tags: @supersoldierslover @barnesandnoble13

Originally posted by bucky-plums-barnes

(Credits to the owner of the gif)

‘I will be there at 5, Bucky.’

‘Ok, you know where everything is. And you know, you have total freedom to tell me what you think about these chapters.’

'There are no worst editors or literary critics than me, uh?’

'That is the reason why I don’t fear them, Y/N.’

Keep reading

sick: d.s.

based off of the au, ‘we’re both sick and we both grabbed for the last can of soup at the store’

word count- 1.6k


You trudged into Ralph’s, your wallet and keys in one hand and the other rubbing your stuffed nose. You had made the mistake of babysitting your neighbor’s kids for a night and a few chaste kisses and shared utensils later, it turned out that the two toddlers had come down with the flu, meaning they had probably, most likely given it to you.

Your immune system wasn’t the strongest so the sickness hit you like a brick wall the next morning and you wanted nothing more than to jump in front of an 18-wheeler and end your pain, but instead you were at Ralph’s, buying soup for yourself. Your fever had hit 101° but no matter how hot your skin was, it didn’t stop you from shivering and wrapping your hoodie-covered arms around yourself as you walked past the freezers and over to the canned food. The fatigue in your body was unreal and you felt as though you would pass out any second, and probably bust your head open and die considering there was nobody in this damn grocery store to help.

The store was pretty deserted considering it was midnight, the only people you’ve seen were the night-shift cashier, who was an angsty 16 year-old that liked to blast Bring Me the Horizon from his headphones and you were pretty sure he cracked your eggs on purpose sometimes and an unrecognizable figure strolling near the ice cream. It was usually pretty dead considering everyone started going to the Target down the street a few months ago, but you liked to come here because it was quiet, checkout was short, and they had all your favorite snacks.

You sniffled, keeping your head down as you coughed into your sleeve, your eyes scanning a pair of checkered Vans much like your own before making your way over to where you remembered were the rows of soup lined up against the wall. You looked up at the shelf expecting to see rows and rows of tin cans but instead your eyes met a lone can, surrounded by dust and not much else. You scoffed as you read the label, chicken and rice.

It’s not even chicken noodle…’ you thought to yourself, shaking your head in annoyance. But it was soup, nonetheless, so you rolled your eyes and got onto your tiptoes to grab it, only to be taken by surprise as another, much taller, figure grabbed the soup in their ring-adorned hand before you could.

“What the hell!” You fumed, your voice cracking from the sickness, but nonetheless ready to slap this mystery person as you turned around, only to fall quiet as your eyes met a pair of blue ones that not even the ocean could be compared to. His eyes were slightly red and puffy and the tip of his nose was a flushed red, the rest of his face sickly pale, giving you the impression that he was also under the weather. But if he looked this attractive while sick, you could only imagine how much more attractive he would become while healthy.

“Oh, were you reaching for this?” He asked with raised eyebrows, the innocence in his voice making your heart swell as you noticed the small gap in his teeth, which you thought was the most adorable thing you’d ever seen.

You were caught off guard by his appearance but soon recovered and returned to being slightly annoyed, “Well- I mean, I wasn’t reaching for anything else.” You replied, motioning to the now-completely empty shelf as you sneezed into your elbow before shivering again.

“Oh- yeah, right. Here’s the thing, usually I’m like, a gentlemen, and I can tell you’re sick and I’d give this can to a p-pretty girl like you in a heartbeat, but I have the flu and I really need this right now.” He attempted to explain, holding up the dented can of chicken and rice soup. You didn’t have time to be flattered at him calling you pretty because your patience was seriously being tested right now.

“Well,” you began, grabbing the can from his much larger hand, “here’s the thing, I also have the flu and I also really need this right now.” You tried to puff out your chest and stand up a little straighter to come off as intimidating to the boy who was at least 8 inches taller than you, but failed as a cough tore through your throat, making your eyes water at the pain as you coughed into your sleeve. It soon turned into a coughing fit and small tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as you began to feel as though you were choking on the cold grocery store air surrounding the two of you.

Butterflies erupted into your stomach as the mystery boy grabbed you gently and started rubbing soothing circles into your back. The coughing fit stopped almost immediately after he had started rubbing your back and you looked up at him, brows furrowed in gratitude but also confusion at the trick.

Oh- uh, my mom taught me that when I was like 10. It’s like scaring someone to make the hiccups go away, stuff like that, y'know?” He explained as you nodded your head in understanding, a small smile on your face as you realized how caring the boy actually was.

“I’m Y/N, sorry I was mean. I just don’t like being sick,” you began to apologize as you shook his large hand, enjoying the way it fit into yours.

“I’m Daniel, and you don’t have to apologize, I get it.” He laughed, motioning to his stuffy nose and watery eyes as you smiled.

“Well, we never really settled on an agreement.” You brought up, motioning to the can of soup that was settled into your clammy hand.

As much as you wanted to stay here in the empty Aisle 7 of Ralph’s talking to a boy you knew literally nothing about yet were completely infatuated with, you were sick, and every minute spent standing just made your skull pound a little harder and the pain in your stomach a little sharper. But if you got to talk to the cute boy with a gap in his teeth then you supposed it was worth it.

“Right.” He furrowed his eyebrows, seeming to be in deep thought before shrugging, “Go ahead and take it. I can always walk to Target or something.” He insisted, confusion flashing across his face as you shook your head, grabbing his hand, trying to ignore the inviting warmth of it, and placing the can into it.

“You take it, you’re really nice and really nice people deserve soup.” You protested as a giggle left his lips. “Plus, you’re sick, and walking like 10 blocks down to Target would not be smart, I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I have a proposition.” Daniel began, grabbing your cold hand and placing the can back into it as you nodded you head, furthering him to continue, “How about I buy this can of soup for the both of us, and you come back to my house and we can share it.” He offered, raising his eyebrows as you placed a finger on your chin, pretending to deliberate the plan before nodding, earning that beautiful smile of his to tug across his lips.

“I guess that’ll do…” You trailed off jokingly as he smiled at your adorable sense of humor.

“Anything else I can buy you to repay you for my lack of chivalry?” He asks semi-seriously, making you roll your eyes and giggle before shaking your head and keeping comfortable small talk as the two of you walked over to the only open register, where the teenager with a permanent frown etched upon his face sat, shoulders slumped as his uninterested eyes scanned a comic book.

Daniel set the soup down awkwardly onto the revolver, getting the cashier’s attention. He rolled his eyes and sighed before setting his comic book down and looking up at the two of you, distaste and annoyance in his face. He kept eye contact with Daniel as he grabbed the can and scanned it, before setting it down in front of the register for one of you to grab easily.

Daniel cleared his throat awkwardly as he pulled a $5 out of his pocket, setting it down onto the platform murmuring a quick, “Keep the change.” Before grabbing your freezing hand in his sweltering one and pulling the two of you out of the grocery store and into the stuffy Los Angeles atmosphere.

“That was awkward.” Daniel spoke as the two of you laughed in agreement.

“He’s the worst cashier. You know I’m pretty sure he cracks my eggs on purpose. He doesn’t think I know but I know.” You joked, partly saying it just to hear that angelic laugh leave his perfect lips one more time.

“I was thinking, Y/N,” Daniel began, and a small blush rose onto your cheeks as you noticed the two of you had not disconnected hands, “I was wondering if, maybe when we’re both feeling a little bit better, you’d wanna go out with me…like, a-a date?” He asked, nervousness radiating off of his lanky body as a smile made its way onto your face.

“O-oh, yeah, I mean- sure, yeah- totally.” You attempted to reply cooly, trying not to sound too excited at the thought of going on a date with the cute boy named Daniel from Aisle 7, but failing as your voice raised an octave.

You were now full on smiling as you heard a small ’yes!’ leave his lips as he pumped his free hand in the air.


Just a few of my absolute favourite fics that I’ve read. This list will keep being updated as I read more, and as I rediscover the links to the ones I’ve already read but lost in the sea of my likes!! Also feel free to recommend fics (PLEASE DO) bc i am down to read all of them ✨

Also, absolute must reads : 💘 ; smut : 🔞; new additions! : 💥

Keep reading

anomeganeyatsu  asked:

DUDE!!! So after I binge read your PJO Voltron AU, it is time for me to ask questions. But first I gotta say I love it. It's soooo friggin awesome and dear daddy Hades my heart. My poor delicate heart. Anyhow, since Keith is a child of Hades and you've given him most of Nico's abilities as well, e.g. shadow travel, summoning skeletons... I was wondering if he could also commune with the dead? Specifically did he offer McDonald's to talk to his Mommy?

[Voltron PJO AU] When Keith found out he could summon skeletons, he thought it might not be a stretch if he could commune with the dead. He wanted to see his mother again if possible and he was too chicken to ask his Dad—Hades—if he could talk to her but he was too busy being a god and Keith didn’t want to disturb him. He was the Prince of the Underworld for crying out loud. Surely, this was a piece of cake. The first time he did it, he cried because he could talk to her but he could never touch her. As much as possible, he talked to her thrice a year.

It was almost bed time and Shiro was getting worried that Keith hadn’t gotten back yet from whatever it was he needed to do. He didn’t want his boyfriend to be eaten by harpies (he honestly doubt they would, but no one was out late to know the truth) so he set out to look for him.

He was passing by the forest where Capture the Flag was usually held when he saw some sort of weird light coming from one of the trees. Curiosity got the better of him, so he decided to check it out.

Once he was near, he heard a voice.

“No, don’t say that,” someone chuckled from behind the tree who appeared to be sitting on one of the big roots.


“He’s…,” Keith sighed and then his voice grew fond. “Shiro is just amazing.”

The mere mention of his name made his eyes widen in surprise. He hid from one of the bigger trees and as much as he was against eavesdropping on his boyfriend, he was rather curious about what they were talking.

“A few weeks ago we ran into a couple of monsters and he just slashed right into them. It was like watching someone dance in a totally badass way.” Keith continued, his hands in front of him in defense.

“You really like him,” came some weird voice that sounded literally from another world and it made Shiro turn to see that—holy shit—Keith was talking to someone transparent, floating in front of him, looking very much not alive. She looked somewhat Asian—Japanese—and it dawned into Shiro that this was probably Keith’s mother.

Keith shrugged and added in a small voice, “Yeah, well, we kissed like… twice.”

Shiro blushed. Keith was counting and Shiro needed to step up his game and increase that number. Soon.

“Twice?” Keith’s probably-mortal-dead-mother asked with a chuckle.

Keith fumbled with his words, most likely embarrassed at what he just said. “It’s not like… all we do is kiss, yknow! We train and… and… stuff!”

She laughed again, “Oh, Keith. I was just teasing. Go at your own pace.”

A few moments passed until Keith spoke up again. “Shiro’s been very patient, so that’s nice. Especially when I told him about… myself being… yknow, ace and all. He understands me and I love that a lot about him. He doesn’t push me to do stuff I’m not ready for.”

“Good. I have no one to haunt at night then,” she giggled lightly, her light starting to fade to which Keith also seemed to notice. “I’m afraid my time is almost up, Keith. I’m happy you and I got to talk again and that you’re doing well.” She paused to see that she’s almost disappearing. “Let’s talk soon, okay? I love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you, too, Mommy,” Keith whispered softly and then the light completely vanished, making the whole surrounding dark.

Shiro didn’t move from his place and neither did Keith. However, the younger boy sighed out loud and… was he wiping his eyes? The soft sniffles that came after confirmed it for Shiro. Then he heard some noise and he saw that Keith was starting to get up while grabbing a tin can—box?

Oh shit. He was coming his way and he needed to act like he wasn’t there listening for the past minutes or so! So Shiro instantly separated himself from the tree and started heading Keith’s way.

“Keith! I was just looking for you!” Shiro said in (read: totally fake) surprise.

“Shiro?” Keith blinked at him repeatedly.

“What’s that?” The son of Zeus pointed at the tin box Keith was holding.

“Ummm,” Keith looked down at his hands. “Cookies. Japanese butter ones. My, uh, my Mom used to bake them for me when I was a kid.” He paused to clear his throat. “It has always been our favorite. For some reason, store bought ones just don’t taste right. Weird, isn’t it?”

“Definitely weird,” Shiro smiled thoughtfully.

“C’mon, big guy. I’m sleepy, we should head to bed.” Keith grabbed his hand and interlaced them as he dragged Shiro with him towards the cabins area.

“Keith?” Shiro stopped walking which made Keith look back at him. Keith looked exhausted and Shiro realized this might be a talk for another time. So instead, he squeezed Keith’s hand and softly said, “Love you.”

Keith just rolled his eyes fondly at him, squeezing his hand back. “Dork.”

Keith might not be ready to tell him about what just happened, but hopefully one day he would over homemade Japanese butter cookies he was already planning on asking Hunk about.

It looks like Perry has an EMF meter in part of the trailer

(ElectroMagnetic Frequency meter, meant to measure the electromagnetic activity that allegedly accompanies ghosts. Pretty much useless because they go off if you get them too close to a tin can, but still in the tool kits of many paranormal investigators)

And she so would

Perry’s the one who packs the EMF meter, the snacks, extra blank tapes, a backup salt canister, and band-aids and makes sure everyone has their tetanus shots and has read the archival research and used the bathroom before they head out

Paranormal investigation mom friend

Kylux (bottom!Ren) recs

Compiled a list of some of my favorite fics as the fandom continues to grow. I’ll be posting warnings and short descriptions here. For more, check Part II.

“I can walk without your hand.”

“I know,” Hux says, not moving his hand.

A fantastic slow burn-type fic showing Hux and Ren’s developing relationship. It shows how their feelings for each other evolve throughout canon, and how certain events in the movie affect their already messed up dynamic (meaning they get, well, kinkier). Oh, and the part where Hux meets Leia is something else. Some implications of switching.

“See now that it’s just the two of us here don’t you feel stupid wearing that thing?” Hux says. “I know I do. I feel silly. It feels as though we’re trying to do bizarre Darth Vader roleplay to revive our marriage.”

“Interesting that you jump to that analogy,” Kylo says.

One of the earliest fics written, and still one of the funniest. It’s a get-together fic told mostly through conversations. I reread this constantly because it’s just so hilarious. Features snarky!Hux and deadpan!Kylo, and part of what I love about it so much is that it portrays Kylo as the socially awkward duck that he is. It’s also really, really sweet.

Kylo pulls back, panting. “You want me,” he breathes, looking a little stunned.

“I should have thought that would be fairly obvious,” Hux says, biting Kylo’s lip himself this time.

A virgin!Ren fic. Basically, Ren tells Hux he’s a virgin at the last minute and that turns Hux on even more. Lots of delicious smut. And one of the most creative uses of the Force that I’ve read.

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anonymous asked:

Could you write a fic where it's Snape who meets when the Dursleys are staying in Cokeworth?

Uncle Vernon stopped at last outside a gloomy-looking hotel on the outskirts of a big city. Dudley and Harry shared a room with twin beds and damp, musty sheets. Dudley snored but Harry stayed awake, sitting on the windowsill, staring down at the lights of passing cars and wondering…

Like shootin’ fish in a barrel, son!  

His father’s words rang in his head as he strolled from the pub.  He hadn’t intended to fleece the group.  Not like when he was younger, and was cajoled by his desperate father. This time, mired in guilt, he threw the last few hands, and pretended his winning streak was over.  

The men commiserated his loss with good humour and camaraderie, but Severus didn’t need to use Legilimency to read their relief.  There had been at least a fortnight’s wage on the table, and he wasn’t entirely convinced that any of the men were still working.  Gambling was no laughing matter in a backwater pub in Cokeworth.

And him, a well-paid teacher.  He could afford to lose ten times over.  He should’ve known better.  

But old habits die hard, and he could almost hear his father’s greed hollering in his ear.  He never threw a hand back then, not when losing a hand could mean the household starving for the rest of the week.  He still couldn’t eat stew as an adult, no matter how upmarket the offering was.  Gourmet stew, indeed.  He could almost feel the oily, watery broth that had coated his fingers as he scooped a bowl from the cauldron; no chunks of meat to be found, and merely vegetable peel for flavour.

No.  He never threw a hand back then.

It was only the time his father had seen any worth in magic.  Comin’ down for a pint, eh, son? I’ll stand yer one.  And then he’d lower his voice to a whisper so Eileen wouldn’t hear.  And bring that witchy mind readin’ brain of yers with yer.  Don’t think yer just goin’ to sit quiet in the corner with a bleedin’ book.

He kicked angrily at a stone on the pavement.  “Why d’yer do this to yerself, Sev lad?” he muttered.  His accent was stronger in these streets.  He shouldn’t have had that last pint.  He always got maudlin after one too many.  He always got maudlin in Cokeworth.

He turned a corner, and followed the main street out of town.  Spinner’s End was in the other direction, far from the train station, far from civilisation – but Severus always walked to the outskirts, and then Apparated to his house.  He preferred to arrive directly in his bedroom when he’d had a few pints; he could collapse straight into bed, and it saved exchanging trivialities with the neighbours.  It took all of his effort to remain polite during the day – with a few Muggle pints in his system, Severus wasn’t quite sure of what he might say.

He glanced up.  The stars weren’t visible – too much light pollution.  Too much pollution full stop.  

And then he saw him. Four storeys up, his face pressed against the glass of a dirty window.

James fucking Potter.

Severus stopped, and turned. His spin was rather less impressive without his voluminous teaching robes, but despite his alcohol intake, the movement was smooth.  He took several steps back and peered at the window, where a small boy with glasses, and messy black hair was peering right back at him.

He wasn’t going mad.

It wasn’t James Potter.

Not with that distinctive scar.

Severus’ heart thudded in his chest.  He stared at the boy for a long moment, and eventually, timidly, the boy raised his hand in the slightest of waves.  

After a few seconds, Severus nodded, and continued on his way.

Harry silently watched as the thin man with long, straight hair hurried down the street.  He glanced back over at Dudley, who was still snoring loudly, and sighed.


“I thought he lived in Surrey,” Severus shouted, banging the door as he strode in, incongruously dressed in his Muggle attire.

“All right, Severus,” Minerva said, sharply.  “I’ve heard quite enough.”  She opened the log of which letters had been sent to which student, and her jaw dropped as she flicked to Harry Potter’s record.

Most children had a single entry next to their name:  Draco Malfoy – letter sent by OWL, RSVP received.

Harry James Potter didn’t have just one entry.  He had thirty nine pages.  

Severus stood behind Minerva, and peered at the pages with her.  “Don’t you check these?”

“At the weekend.  It gives families chance to send confirmation,” she said, defensively.  “There’s usually no need to chase anyone up.  These are all pureblood and halfblood families, Severus, remember?”

“Halfblood he might be,” Severus harrumphed, “but he lives with Muggles.”

“Muggles who know fully well what he is,” Minerva corrected.  “Dumbledore did suggest he’d send Hagrid to retrieve him if there was any trouble,” she added, but Severus wasn’t really listening.

“The address keeps changing,” he said, pointing at the page.  “What does this mean?  Cupboard under the stairs?  The smallest bedroom?”

Minerva gave him a horrified look.  “The addresses are automatic.”

“Hundreds of these,” Severus said, flipping the pages.  “And now, look!  Tomorrow’s entry – Railview Hotel, Cokeworth!  That’s where I saw him.”

“Perhaps they went on holiday?”

“To Cokeworth?” Severus snorted.  “Nobody goes to Cokeworth on holiday.”

“You were there.  This is your holiday.”

Severus gave her a scathing look.  “I had the misfortune of being born there.”  He tensed. “They’re running from it.  They think they can outrun the owls.”

“Whatever for?” Minerva polished her glasses on her sleeve.  “You don’t seriously think those awful Muggles would keep Harry from attending Hogwarts?”

When she put her glasses back on, he’d gone.

They ate stale cornflakes and cold tinned tomatoes on toast for breakfast the next day. They had just finished when the owner of the hotel came over to their table.

“’Scuse me, but is one of you Mr. H. Potter? Only I got about an ’undred of these at the front desk.”

She held up a letter so they could read the green ink address:

Mr. H. Potter
Room 17
Railview Hotel

Harry made a grab for the letter but Uncle Vernon knocked his hand out of the way. The woman stared.

“I’ll take them,” said Uncle Vernon, standing up quickly and following her from the dining room.

Vernon’s heavy footsteps stomped down the hallway, and Severus slipped in through the door.  He’d sat in Vernon’s place before anyone even realised he’d entered the room.

“Mornin’,” he said, cheerfully, and picked up Vernon’s half-finished cup of tea.

Petunia was so horrified, she couldn’t speak.  Her mouth kept forming the same strange ‘o’ shape.  Dudley clouted her on the back, assuming she was choking on a cornflake.

Harry’s eyes widened. “You’re the man I saw last night,” he said.

“I am,” he said, leaning his head down to Harry.  “And I have a very special letter for you.”

“Oh!” Petunia finally spoke, and Severus straightened up.

“Where’s my letter?” demanded Dudley.

“You don’t want one of those horrid letters,” Petunia snapped.  “And neither does he, Snape!”

Harry didn’t think it was possible to be more shocked.  “You know this man, Aunt Petunia?”

“Off to your room, Harry,” Severus said sternly, passing him an envelope.

“You know my name!”

“-and keep that letter safe.”

Harry gave a sharp nod, and fled to his hotel room.  Dudley moved to go with him, but Severus’ slender hand gripped his upper arm.  He dropped his Cokeworth accent, and slipped back into his most impressive schoolmaster tone.  “And where do you think you’re going?”

Dudley swallowed hard. Ordinarily, he’d scream and shout, and stamp his feet – but the man’s black eyes were unnerving.  He slid back onto his seat.

“Not my son, Snape,” Petunia whispered, horrified.  “You can take the other one, but please, not my Duddy.”

“Nobody wants your Duddy,” Severus sneered.

“Fine,” she snapped.  “You’ve-”

“Obliviate.  Stupefy.  Muffliato.”

Petunia’s scream was high pitched, and she lunged for the thin man.  “What have you done to him?  My Duddikins! Duddy!”  She looked around helplessly, amazed that nobody else had moved an inch. “What have you done?”

“No-one can hear you,” Severus said, in an almost bored tone.  “I merely wiped the boy’s memory of events.  He will wake shortly, and he won’t have any knowledge of this meeting.”

Petunia calmed, and sniffed. “And Harry?”

“I think it best that both you and Harry remember what happened here.”  He flicked his wand, lifting the Muffliato spell.  “Send Dudley up to pack in five minutes.  It’ll give you time to decide what to tell that oaf of a husband of yours.”

Severus rapped on the door. “Harry?”

The door slid open, and Harry beamed at him.  “Is this true?  Is this all true?  I’m a wizard? Are you a wizard?”

Severus nodded, and ushered the boy through the door.

“Do you work at the school?” Harry asked, excitedly.  “Can we go now?”

“We cannot go now,” Severus intoned, “for Hogwarts has broken up for the summer.  But yes, I work at the school.”

“What do you do?”

“I teach Potions.”  At Harry’s puzzled look, he smiled.  “It’s like Chemistry.  Only magical.”

“Are there forms?”


“I went to the open day at Stonewall High,” Harry explained.  “And they put you in a form.  Mine was-”

“We call them houses,” Severus interrupted.

“Yes, that’s it!” Harry looked cheered, and then turned back to the letter.  “It doesn’t say which house I am going to be in?”

“Nobody knows until you turn up.”

“Oh.”  Harry thought for a moment.  “What’s your house?”

Severus smiled.  “I was put into Slytherin.”  He smiled more broadly again.  “I am very proud to say that I am the Head of Slytherin.”

“Slytherin?  That’s a funny name.”

Severus gave a tight smile. “Isn’t it just?”  He patted the small boy on the shoulder.  “Enough now, Harry.  You need to pack your things before your cousin comes upstairs.”


“It won’t be long until you’re at Hogwarts,” he said.  “For now, just keep yourself out of trouble.”

“Sir?  Do you think I could be in Slytherin?”

Severus paused for a long moment, and then shut the door.  He pulled out his wand and spun on his heel.  “Obliviate!  Stupefy!”

He picked the stunned boy up, shocked at how light the limp child was.  He gently rested him on the bed and sighed.  “Your mother was in Gryffindor.”

With that, he slipped out of the building.

And Harry pulled his head out of the pensieve.

You know the feeling. The clock strikes 2:30, and all you have to show for your day is a lingering lunch coma, a growing stack of unread emails, and an empty document taunting you with its endlessly blinking cursor. It kind of feels like a panic attack, but it’s way more boring and no one will let you go home. Sometimes, all you need to beat the procrastination bug is something to distract you juuuust enough to take the top off that stress. So instead of getting tunnel vision from worrying about all the things you haven’t done, try releasing some of that tension with one of these tactile focus aids.

If you’ve ever read any Spider-Man comics, then this Scientific Magnetic Space Putty might look a lot to you like Venom forgot to flush. However, we promise this is just a fun desk toy that most likely and not an alien symbiote hellbent on destruction. This bouncy elastomer will provide you with endless hours of molding and prodding, and best of all, you can even make it dance with an included magnet. Pick up a tin of Space Putty for 60 percent off.

5 Ways To Keep Your Head At Work (We Know, It’s Tough)

Ready Steady Part 4

Summary: The reader attends karaoke and finally meets some of Rob’s friends. Some important information is shared with her, but how will she react? Honestly, the reader is a bit frustrating… why can’t she stop freaking out?!

Note: For the sake of the remainder of the fic, I’m using some old Louden Swain songs and making them new ones. Also, as you can tell, my reader is a singer/songwriter and a country girl at heart… so for her, instead of trying to write my own lyrics, I’m using songs by Miranda Lambert and claiming them as the reader’s own. Hey, this way, you can listen to the actual songs after you read!

·        The song used in this part is called “Tin Man” by Miranda Lambert

Sorry if this chapter seems rushed, I don’t want the reader to admit her true feelings just yet! I also found it difficult to write multiple characters at once, but they’ll be back!

Words: 4734

Pairing: eventual Rob x Reader

Warnings: more drinking, slight swearing.

Catch up: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Originally posted by lamthetwickster

*Another unrelated GIF, because I love their faces.*

You searched through your carry on once you got back to your room. Once you found your notebook, you tossed it onto the bed and grabbed your guitar from the case on the dresser, finding your pick and placing it between your teeth. You sat on the bed, guitar in hand, and situated yourself in the middle until you were comfortable. Thumbing through the pages of your notebook that you had nearly filled during your flight to Nashville, you stopped when you found what you were really looking for. You took the pick from your mouth and began to tune your guitar, the old thing still sounding as sweet as the day your grandpa brought her home to you.

When you were satisfied, you began to strum, playing the tune that you had playing in your head since you arrived in Nashville. You found your rhythm, and began to softly sing the lyrics that you had written on the page.

Hey there, Mr. Tin Man
You don’t know how lucky you are
You shouldn’t spend your whole life wishin’
For something bound to fall apart

Every time you’re feeling empty
Better thank your lucky stars
If you ever felt one breakin’
You’d never want a heart

You hummed the melody, thinking hard about the words that would come next. Sometimes, the songs didn’t finish themselves until you had finally found the music for them to go with.

Some time had passed, you working tirelessly over the same song; perfecting the tune and the lyrics. When your hands began to ache, you put your guitar down and stretched, realizing that you must have been in sitting in the same position for a while. You looked at your phone and saw that you had spent most of the afternoon playing and writing. You let out a yawn and your stomach grumbled, the granola bar that you had picked up from the hotel gift shop after leaving the convention hadn’t kept you full obviously. You decided that you needed real food. You often did this. Most times that you got into songwriting mode, you forgot to eat or drink… sometimes sleep. You figured you’d make your way to the bathroom to freshen up before venturing out for sustenance, you could feel your eyes still burning from the tears that you had allowed yourself to cry as you sang the song. You were sure your face was puffy and red, and you weren’t about to let anyone see you like that. You threw your feet over the side of the bed and was about to stand up when your eye caught the convention program on the nightstand next to the bed. You bit your lip and hesitantly picked it up, thumbing through until you found the events for the day. You must not have been paying much attention earlier when you looked through it, because right there, at the end of the day’s list of events, was the announcement for karaoke. You smiled to yourself, remembering Rob’s insistence on you attending.

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Stiles x Reader

Requested By Anon

“Guys come on take it seriously.” Lydia sighed and Scott and Kira came out of the cupboard and she sent Allison and Isaac in next.


“How can we take it seriously when furball over here’s growling the whole seven minutes.” Stiles chuckled and Kira slapped his arm as they sat down next to him.


“Ok while they’re in there (Y/N) pick out a name from the tin.” Lydia wiggled the tin and held it out for you.

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Weight of Living

this is a little late but this was written for the first day of @chowderweek​! (full moon)

this fic is based on personal experiences and i’m super happy with how it turned out :”) thank you to @omgcphee​ for cheering me on as i screamed my head off while scribbling it in my notebook!! also, thank you to my papa and our memories.

[Also on AO3]

(warning: minor character death in this fic!!!!!)

All he feels is dampness on his face as he lies spooning a package that’s travelled a long way. He’s gasping and trying to inhale more oxygen, trying not to choke. He buries his head in his wet pillow, trying to keep it down; he doesn’t want anyone to know that anything’s wrong.

He hears gentle knocks on the door and sucks it up, raising his hand to wipe his tears away before opening the door. However, he’s still grasping at a sheet of paper with familiar handwriting. Tears have flooded his eyes again and he just shouts at the person outside.

“Yo Chow, I heard someone crying, was it you?” asks the person outside. Chris took a deep breath before shouting back, “Nope, wasn’t me!” The person makes a sound,  like he wants to say something, but stopped.

“Ok, just holler if you wanna hang out, I noticed there’s an email that mentioned it was the Mid-Autumn Festival?” the voice says. Chris shakes his head, before realising that they can’t see him.

His voice cracks as he replies, “Yeah, maybe later?”

Silence. It feels unbearable.

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emilisborealis  asked:

(1/2) Hi! So I’m working on this space opera about a flagship in which the (5-star) admiral, flag captain and some other staff/crew are central characters. And while I’ve found info on staff structure and the like, I’d love to get some inside knowledge to help me write these characters better! Sorry if my question is a bit vague & broad, haha, but basically; what –beyond ordering a bunch of ships around– does an admiral actually do? Duties, mundane tasks, management, commanding/leadership etc.

(2/2) What does their day look like? What kind of relationship would they have with their flag captain (& vice versa) and the regular ship crew? And from the other perspective; what’s it like working on an admiral’s staff? Duties, day-to-day, how much/when does staff members interact with the admiral etc. Are there enlisted in the staff or only officers? Also if there’s any good resources (esp. books!) from the perspectives of/about admirals I’d love some recommendations!

I’m going to take this one on piece by piece.  Before I get on with that, I do want to say that how an admiral and their staff work depends a lot on their personalities.  Admirals, like any other leader, come in all shapes and flavors.  Some are petty tyrants who are great at micromanaging, and some do a really good job of stepping back.  So, part of what happens will be defined by the characters you’ve got.  That said, I’ll talk about what probably should happen.

What –beyond ordering a bunch of ships around– does an admiral actually do? Duties, mundane tasks, management, commanding/leadership etc.

An admiral’s job is looking at the big picture.  A five star admiral is going to be commanding a huge fleet, possibly the entire navy.  So, he/she is going to spend most of their time looking at these kind of things:

  1. Logistics, logistics, logistics.  There’s a great saying about war: Amateurs study tactics, professionals study logistics.  You would be shocked how much goes into moving a fleet around.  Do they have enough fuel (or whatever resource your ships use for propulsion)?  What about food?  Ships can’t stay at sea/away from port indefinitely (even in space), so what safe ports/planets are there?  Sailors need R&R or they’ll go crazy - and be less combat effective - so where in a warzone is there safe liberty?  How can you get spare parts for when things break?  Even spaceships can’t carry everything they need.
  2. Mediating conflicts of priority.  Whether that’s having to decide which ship gets widget A that will fix broken gun B when four ships need it and there’s only one of widget A available, or who gets the replacement gunner’s mate out of three ships that want him/her, Admirals get to make the hard decisions.
  3. Keeping an overall eye on the material condition of the ships under his/her command.  Ships break, and there’s no amount of advanced technology that can fix that.  Think of how complicated your car is, and then multiply that by about a million.  Ships break all the time, just because there’s so much complicated equipment.  My first ship was fond of lighting on fire at random moments.  Most fires were minor, but they required a lot of new (expensive) circuit cards to be replaced, and every cruiser in the Navy seemed to want those same cards.  Depending on how many ships the admiral has under their command, this will probably be a daily or weekly meeting that takes hours.
  4. Overall strategy.  Where is the fleet going?  What do they want to accomplish?  What ships are chosen as scouts?  Which ones have to play rearguard (which their captains may not like)?
  5. Answering the mail.  Unless the five-star admiral is also the leader of the nation, he/she has a boss who is going to want status updates.  In order to provide these updates, the admiral is going to have to have updates provided to him/her by their staff.  Someone might ghost write the emails/messages for the admiral, but the admiral still has to know what’ going on.
  6. Dealing with the locals.  If the ships stop in anywhere other than where there’s Naval/Fleet apparatus to deal with trouble, the admiral is The Guy who has to smooth over ruffled feathers.  Sailors will always get in trouble.  It’s pretty much a law of the universe.  It doesn’t matter how well-educated your worlds are…Sailors will still be Sailors.  When you’re cooped up in a restricted environment like a ship for weeks/months on end, you really want to let loose when you finally get ashore.  Admirals also get the fun public relations things, like making speeches, taking tours of important places, and generally playing like a uniformed politician.  

What does their day look like?

Honestly, an average day is probably full of meetings.  We often joked that we had meetings to plan more meetings, but there’s an enormous amount of administration that goes into running a ship or a fleet.  An admiral sets their own schedule, but there will be a lot of things that need their attention.  There will be at least one unpleasant surprise on any given day, from Ship X broke Important Thing Y to Seaman Timmy went and offended the locals by lighting precious statuary on fire.

Outside of meetings, a lot of people (staff, captains, etc) will come by and need the admiral’s answer on something.  They’ll need a decision made or the knowledge that a senior officer has, or just to brief the admiral on something that has happened (be it wrong or right).

What kind of relationship would they have with their flag captain (& vice versa) and the regular ship crew?

An admiral has to trust their flag captain.  The flag captain has to fight the ship while the admiral fights the fleet; the admiral isn’t going to be able to pay attention to the “little” things, like if their ship is surviving the battle.  So, there has to be a lot of trust.  The flag captain also has to understand the admiral’s tactical and strategic thinking very well, so that he/she puts the ship in the right place at the right time and understands what the admiral is thinking.  And that trust has to run both the other way, too, because the flag captain has to trust their admiral not to do something stupid and get them killed - because no one wants to fight for someone who will do that.

The admiral’s likely to be a more distant figure to the regular ship crew, but he/she will be on the ship, so they’re likely to wander around and chat with folks to get the pulse of the fleet.  The flagship is likely to be a large ship, so the crew probably won’t know the admiral well at all.

And from the other perspective; what’s it like working on an admiral’s staff? Duties, day-to-day, how much/when does staff members interact with the admiral etc.

It depends on how senior you are.  The department heads (we call them N-heads in the USN, since they all have staff codes.  For example, the N-3 is Operations) see the admiral every day or most days.  But someone who works for the N-3 probably won’t see the admiral even most days.  I generally saw the admiral about once a week as a lieutenant working under the N-3, and that was in a meeting that I coordinated.  Yeah, I saw him in the hallways sometimes, and when I was Staff Duty Officer, although then I usually dealt with the Chief of Staff.

Day-to-day duties depend upon what the person in question is doing.  Each individual has a job, whether it’s in operations/planning, weapons, navigation, tactics, supply, engineering, training, etc.  The heads of each department will coordinate with their counterparts on the ships to help the ships deal with whatever problems they have, and if the problems need to be brought to the admiral’s attention, they’ll do that.

And…well, there will be a lot of meetings.

Have you noticed that I keep mentioning meetings?  The Navy is full of them, and the more senior you get, the more time you spend sitting around a table.

Are there enlisted in the staff or only officers?

There are definitely enlisted members of the staff.  Most of them are more senior enlisted, generally first class petty officers and above.  They’re there to be the technical experts and generally keep officers from doing anything too stupid.  There are a lot more officers than enlisted on most staffs (unlike ships, where it’s the other way around), but you tend to get very smart senior enlisted folks on the staff.

Also if there’s any good resources (esp. books!) from the perspectives of/about admirals I’d love some recommendations!

I haven’t read a lot of books about Admirals in particular, but  The Admirals: Nimitz, Halsey, Leahy, and King–The Five-Star Admirals Who Won the War at Sea has generally good reviews and has a great reputation.  Another book that talks a lot about command and decision making is The Last Stand of the Tin Can Sailors.  It’s about a corner of the Battle of Leyte Gulf, which is one of history’s biggest naval battles.  Some fascinating decisions and mistakes were made by flag officers during that battle, so it’s a really good window into decision making processes.  

Both these books are focused on World War II, but you really do need to go that far back if you want a mother-loving navy war, so it makes for good examples.

One series that handles staff organization and dynamics pretty well is the Honor Harrington series by David Weber.  If you haven’t read it, it’s billed as Horatio Hornblower in space, and I will unashamedly say that I adore the series books.

anonymous asked:

Hi Romina! Do you have any johnlock fics that you're currently reading/are somewhat new? I'm in desperate need of some johnlock! Hope you have a nice weekend 😊

Hi Anon! I tried to make this list yesterday but my chrome crashed but here it is again, these are my fave fics that I’ve read lately =)

Hope you like them as much as I do ♥

Ruby Rose Kisses (Almost) Every Girl

: Exactly what it says on the tin. Each girl gets a little separate ficlet.

Ruby/ [Weiss, Blake, Yang, Nora, Pyrrha, Velvet, Coco, Cinder, Neo, Salem, Glynda, Emerald, Winter, Reese, Arslan, May, Melanie, Miltia, Penny, Neon, Ciel, Amber, Raven]

You can also read this story on AO3

Let’s go!


It shouldn’t have been a surprise, considering how single-mindedly she’d tried to claim Neptune. When Weiss wanted something she was relentless. And when dealing with Ruby, she was needlessly sharp.

She held Ruby under her chin, tilting her head back. Blue eyes narrowed, not necessarily out of anger or displeasure.  Even so, Ruby felt like she’d already disappointed her somehow.

“Can I kiss you?” Weiss asked, and Ruby nearly had a stroke. Not trusting her voice, she nodded. So Weiss leaned down, the touch clean and methodical, yet intimate.

Weiss let out a long breath, eyes slowly opening to fix her with a piercing stare.


It was the most natural thing in the world. They slept snuggled up together under the same blanket. Ruby’s nose crinkled. The sharp spine of a hardcover pressed into her forehead until she nudged it off the edge of the bed.

Turning around, she blinked and wondered how many people had seen Blake this peaceful. Catching the faunus unguarded happened very rarely. As if sensing her thoughts, Blake stirred, reaching out and bapping her palm against Ruby’s face.

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anonymous asked:

Sooo...We all know Bones is a damn good Dom, but what about Dom Reader? Do you know of any Bones x Dom Reader fics? I'm asking for a friend ;))))

Guess what? I decided to include this in the birthday drabbles… because why not?! (and if I can pull it off in a drabble, maybe I can write an actual fic on the theme?)

You glanced down at the assignment and shrugged. Five years in space seemed like a long time, but the Enterprise was the flagship, so it couldn’t be all bad. Could it?

You reported to MedBay for your physical and waited patiently for the doctor to make his way to you. Even across the room, you could tell he was going to be a distraction. Strong hands, long fingers. Nice broad shoulders, tapering down into a very shapely backside. Long legs. Intelligence radiated off him, from his quirked eyebrow to the way he confidently moved through the tasks he was working on. Oh yes, the good doctor was going to be a distraction.

Then you saw his face. And wondered if it was too late to request a different primary physician. Because there was no way that man wasn’t going to wind up in your bed, if you had your way about it.

“Lieutenant Commander Y/L/N, welcome to the Enterprise.” The way he said it made you think he likely had a very dry sense of humour. “I’m Leonard McCoy, CMO of this tin can.”

“Doctor McCoy, I’ve read some of your work,” you nodded, impressed that this handsome man was the revered physician so many spoke of.

“Really?” He asked, quirking that eyebrow at you in question.

“I was researching ovoviviparous versus viviparous deliveries in alien species and came across your paper about Gorn delivery techniques and post-natal care,” you smiled. “It was fascinating.”

“Little bastards bite, you know,” he smiled.

“I’d love to discuss it with you. My quarters? This evening. You look like a scotch man. I have a new bottle waiting.” You pushed yourself off the biobed and walked out of MedBay, leaving a baffled doctor staring at your unfinished intake physical.

At the chime, you smiled and opened the door, gesturing wordlessly for McCoy to enter. He stepped in and turned to speak, then took in your appearance.

“That is not regulation loungewear, Y/L/N,” he commented, taking in your tank top and shorts. “And you’ll have to come back to MedBay tomorrow. We seem to have missed your physical.”

You smiled and handed him a glass of scotch, placing a hand on his chest. “Gee, Doc, did you want to give me a physical right now?” You walked him backward until he bumped into a chair. Swallowing thickly, he sat down, not taking his eyes from yours. He took a sip from the glass and licked his lips.

“That’s a good scotch.” He tried changing the subject. You smirked and took the glass from him, taking a sip.

“I like my scotch firm, dignified, hot,” you commented, handing the glass back to him. “But I like my men a little more yielding.” You dropped into his lap, stretching you legs across the arm of the chair. His eyes widened as he looked from his glass, to your face, to your legs.

“Yielding?” He managed. You repositioned yourself so that you were straddling his lap, and leaned up until your noses were just a fraction of a breath apart.

“Adaptable,” you breathed against his lips. “Compliant.” His free hand dropped down from the arm rest to rest on your thigh.

“Sweetheart, I’m not renowned for my adaptability or willingness to take orders,” he succeeded in gritting out between his teeth as you dropped your hips back against his.

“Oh, but I bet you can be,” you teased, drawing your finger down his nose, and across his full lips. You leaned forward and dropped a whisper soft kiss against his lips and smiled before pulling away when you heard the glass drop from his hand and his the floor. “Did I misjudge you, Doctor? It seems like you have trouble holding your liquor. Maybe you aren’t ready for a woman like me?”

He growled a little and the grip on your thigh tightened just a touch. “Now listen here -” He started. You pressed your finger against his lips to silence him.

“Ah-ah-ah.” You shook your head and leaned closed again, you voice just barely above a whisper. “You don’t give the orders, Doctor. I do.”

“But -”

You gave him a pout and lifted your hips from his, moving to get off his lap. “Wait!” He protested, his grip on your thigh tightening again. You paused, giving him an expectant look. “I’m sorry?”

“And?” You asked.

“You didn’t misjudge me.”

“About what?” You feigned innocence. He scowled.

“You can give the orders,” he allowed. “In here.”

“I think you’ll find you like relinquishing control, Leonard,” you smiled, tracing the angle of his jaw with your fingernail. 

(this might be continued?)