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anonymous asked:

89 with Taehyung please

Lessons in Love (Taehyung x Reader Fluff)

Prompt request: “Are you hitting on me?”
Summary: Taehyung flirts like a 12-year-old, but you’re able to figure everything out anyways.
Word count: 1.5k words

Originally posted by helendrv

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” you frowned, looking at your friend, Yuna, who had dragged you to her mathematics study group. “You know I’m terrible at math.”

“So this is a chance to learn!” Yuna answered with a smile. “We’ll help you study, it’s not a problem.”

“You and your friends are so smart,” you whined as Yuna dragged you through the library towards the private rooms. “I’ll look so dumb in comparison.”

“Trust me, they’re not like that!” Yuna comforted, finally stopping in front of a closed door. It led to the room her study group booked every Wednesday. “Besides, you’re like the English god, so if anyone needs help with that you can pay back the favour.”

“If you’re sure,” you conceded, albeit hesitantly. Yuna nodded enthusiastically and turned the knob, swinging the door open to reveal the small room behind.

There was a single table surrounded by three other students. One girl, who you vaguely recognized, was sitting closest to the door. The head of the table was a boy named Namjoon, the certified genius on campus. Beside him was another boy, but this one you didn’t recognize.

He had messy brown hair and tanned skin. His lips were a little pouty, and his nose was strong. When your gaze traveled up, you saw that his dark, long eyes were ringed by thick eyelashes. He was also staring right back at you.

Blushing, you quickly averted your gaze and turned uncomfortably to Yuna.

“Hey guys!” she chirped. “This is my friend, Y/N. She’s in the other class, so that’s probably why you don’t recognize her.”

“Just to preface this, I’m pretty shit at math,” you said, wanting to address your discomfort immediately. “I know you guys are all really smart but I don’t want you to think I’m, like, taking advantage of you. If you need help in literally any other subject, I’m here.”

“Nah, no worries,” Namjoon responded with an easy smile. “We’re not math elitists or some shit. I’m Namjoon, by the way.”

“I’m Jisoo,” the girl added dully, briefly glancing up from her laptop in front of her. You smiled, but Jisoo turned back to her screen too quickly to catch it.

You turned to the handsome boy beside Namjoon, waiting for him to introduce himself. He blinked owlishly at you for a moment, his face expressionless. Slowly, his eyes met yours and his mouth began to open.

“Your shirt looks weird,” he said. You looked down at your t-shirt, which had a print of an old anime series you used to watch.

“I, uh–you–okay?” you spluttered, confused by the boy’s comment.

“What the hell, Tae?” Namjoon asked, bewildered. He turned to his friend, his eyes narrowed. “I thought you liked–ow!”

The boy turned to glare at his friend, and when you looked back at Yuna in confusion, she just rolled her eyes at you.

“Just ignore Taehyung,” Yuna snorted, grabbing your arm and leading you to the table. She pulled you down into the seat beside hers and turned to address the group. “So! Let’s start reviewing for the quiz next week.”

You glanced at the clock beside your computer. It read 3:04 AM. Groaning, you looked at the stacks of sheets in front of you, and then at the textbook filled with highlighted text and sticky notes. But for the hours you had spent studying, you learned next to nothing.

In a moment of desperation, you logged into Facebook and open your study group chat, which you had been added to after your first sit-in.

Y/N 3:06 AM

SOS!!! Is anyone online!!!

Tae Tae 3:10 AM

ya sup

Y/N 3:11 AM

I don’t understand anything??? Pls help

Immediately after you hit “enter,” Taehyung viewed the message. But no response came, and the typing bubble didn’t appear either. You broke out into a nervous sweat, overwhelmed by the fast approaching quiz and your lack of understanding of math in general.

Then, a message notification popped up onto your screen. Taehyung had messaged you separately from the group chat.

Taehyung 3:14 AM

lets just dm. dont wanna annoy the others

Y/N 3:14 AM


Taehyung 3:15 AM

so what don’t u understand?

Y/N 3:16 AM

Everything!!!! All the stuff we went over last meeting has completely left my brain.

Taehyung 3:17 AM

ok prepare urself this is gonna be a long lesson

So, for the next hour, Taehyung did his best to explain the different concepts and methods to you, while you scribbled notes furiously on your worn notebook. By the time he had went through all the material, your hand was throbbing and it was well past 4AM.

Y/N 4:37 AM

Thank you sooooooo much Taehyung! I owe you my life

Taehyung 4:38 AM

no thnx

Y/N 4:39 AM

Ok, rude. But seriously, thanks. I don’t know what I would have done otherwise

Taehyung 4:39 AM

no probs. but u owe me now so don’t forget

Y/N 4:40 AM

I won’t!!!!! You’re the best!

Taehyung changed your nickname to “idiot.”

The day of the quiz came quickly, but when you sat down at your desk, you felt more relaxed than in any other math class. This time, you were actually prepared and confident in your abilities. So when the quiz arrived, you whizzed through every page.

Everything Taehyung had explained to you was on the quiz. You were sure that if you found the quiz easy, Taehyung could probably do it in his sleep. Even though you thought he was a bit annoying, he still had saved your ass.

When the test period finally finished, you grabbed all your belongings and darted from the testing centre. You spotted one of your friends, Jungkook, dashing towards the exit as well.

“Hey, Jungkook!” you called. He turned around, and once he spotted you, he smiled and waited for you to catch up. “How was the quiz?”

“You know I’m the fucking worst at math,” Jungkook scowled, crossing his arms as you walked together. “Fuck, why is this a mandatory course. I’m in liberal arts for a reason.”

“Tell me about it,” you replied, laughing humourlessly. “Luckily, this time I had help. The quiz wasn’t so–”

“Y/N!” someone yelled suddenly, their deep voice booming throughout the hall. Startled, you glanced up, spotting Taehyung a few meters away from you. He hurried over, nearly tripping over himself in the process. “How’d the quiz go?”

“Really well, actually,” you replied. “Everything you explained to me was on it, so I could answer all the questions.”

“No way,” Jungkook snorted. “Y/N, good at math? That’s fucking new.”

“What the fuck?” Taehyung growled, narrowing his eyes at Jungkook. “Watch yourself, you prick. Y/N isn’t stupid.”

“Woah, chill man,” Jungkook replied, putting his hands up in surrender. “I was making a joke. Calm yourself.”

“Let’s all just relax a little bit!” you exclaimed tightly, grabbing Taehyung’s arm and pulling him away from a very volatile Jungkook. He put up little resistance, letting himself be led around the building. When you reached an emptier hallway, you stopped and look back at Taehyung. “What was that all about?”

“He was implying you were stupid,” Taehyung mumbled, his eyes downcast. “And you tried really hard to study for this quiz.”

“You probably tried harder than me, if I’m being honest,” you said. “Plus, you call me stupid all the time. Are you the only one who can say that?”

“No,” he muttered, still unable to meet your eyes. He said something, but he was speaking too quietly for you to understand.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“I said,” Taehyung began, clearing his throat awkwardly, “your hair looks bad.”

Reflexively, you reached for your long hair. You had slept with it in a bun last night, so your hair fell in loose waves. Objectively, you knew it looked pretty nice. You looked at Taehyung, confused, but when you saw his expression, suddenly everything clicked.

His cheeks were dusted in pink, and his eyes were darting around everywhere but your face.

“Are you–are you hitting on me?” you asked slowly. Taehyung’s cheeks darkened into a deeper red, and he bit his lip. “Oh my god, seriously? Are you twelve or something?”

“What!?” Taehyung whined. “You’re cute and it’s intimidating! What else can I do?”

“Ask me for my number or something?” you suggested, trying to hold back laughter. “Like a normal person our age?”

“Well, if that’s the case,” Taehyung said, finally lifting his gaze to your face as he scratched his nape awkwardly, “can I cash in my favour for your number?”

“I think I can do that,” you smiled, reaching for Taehyung’s phone once he fished it out of his pocket. “I might even say yes to a date, too.”


hey dumbo

- Girl in Luv

Wow I’m done and it’s 3AM. Nice. This is unedited, so I’ll go back and make corrections later. Hope you all checked out our masterlist! Happy 3k woot woot! Thanks for everyone who’s stuck with us. We’re so glad you guys are enjoying our imagines. Happy reading

anonymous asked:

I just got this idea. Have some Viktuuri: Viktor and Yuuri's first encounter is not in Hasetsu. That's the first formal meeting. Not first encounter. Viktor was ill at a competition that Yuuri just so happened to be in as well. When Yuuri stumbles upon one puking Viktor Nikiforov, fanboying aside, his caring nature takes over and tries to provide comfort. But Viktor's fever was so high at the time, he didnt remember Yuuri's help. Until of course it happens again when Viktuuri is together -Galaxy

What a great idea! This is set during Yuuri’s previous Grand Prix Final series.

By the time the Cup of China is coming to a close, Yuuri is exhausted, a ball of nerves held up only by adrenaline and copious amounts of caffeine. His free skate is a blur. Yuuri rushes to the bathroom to splash some water on his face in an attempt to stay awake for the trip back to the hotel.

He’s barely paying attention to where he’s going, so he nearly runs into the person blocking the bathroom sinks. “I’m so sorry!” he yelps, apologizing instinctively.

“’S okay,” the man slurs, waving a hand vaguely. Yuuri finally takes a moment to get a look at the stranger.

“Victor … Nikiforov?” he stutters and does a double take. He’d probably do a spit take if he was drinking anything.

“Yeah. Who’re you?” Victor asks, accent thick. He doesn’t sound angry, just confused.

For a moment, Yuuri forgets how to talk, as well as his own name and how to think. “Um,” he splutters for a second. “I’m Yuuri Katsuki!” he squeaks.

Victor doesn’t respond, and Yuuri takes a second to actually look at him. He frowns at what he sees. Victor seems pale and unsteady on his feet, and there’s a feverish flush on his cheeks. “Are you okay?” Yuuri asks anxiously, concern overriding his starstruck stupor.

“I’m okay,” Victor mumbles, before lurching over the sink with a gag. He brings up a few thin strings of bile and groans. Yuuri automatically moves forward to rub his back, shyness momentarily forgotten. He winces at the heat radiating off Victor.

“"You’re really sick, aren’t you?” His question goes unanswered as Victor struggles with another heave, spitting a few globs of saliva into the sink. “You won a Grand Prix Final qualifying event running a fever like this?” Victor just slumps into Yuuri’s side with a low moan, apparently finished puking for the moment.

Yuuri carefully props him up against the wall of the stall and wets some paper towels to create a makeshift cold compress that he presses to Victor’s forehead. The taller man sighs at the coolness, and Yuuri smiles slightly, glad that he could provide a tiny bit of comfort for the obviously ill skater. He’s at a loss for what to do now, though. Victor needs help, but Celestino will be looking for Yuuri soon.

That’s it! He just has to find Victor’s coach; surely he’ll be willing to take care of his student. And like any superfan of Victor, Yuuri already knows his name and what he looks like.

Yuuri hurries out of the restroom, looking desperately for any sign of Yakov. He spots him a few meters away, arguing with a young blonde teenager.

“Are you Yakov Feltsman?” he asks, pretending that he doesn’t already know that.

“Yes,” Yakov replies, turning to face him. “And who might you be?”

Yakov is intimidating, and Yuuri finds himself tongue-tied for a few seconds. But the idea of Victor, miserably sick and alone in the bathroom, spurs him into action. “I’m Yuuri Katsuki, sir.”

Yakov scoffs, unimpressed. “And what do you want?” Behind him, the younger skater mutters something in Russian.

“It’s not me, it’s Victor.” Yuuri does his best to stay calm and explain the situation. “I found him in the bathroom. He’s really sick!”

“Show me where he is,” Yakov demands. Yuuri leads him to the bathroom, where Victor is still miraculously propped against the wall. Yakov moves to his skater’s side, pressing his hand to Victor’s face to check his temperature and cursing in Russian.

Yuuri offers to help, but Yakov waves him off. He decides that maybe it’s best if he just leaves. Victor is probably in good hands with his coach. “I hope that you feel better soon!” he calls over his shoulder as he exits the bathroom.

Later, at the Grand Prix Final and when Victor comes to Hasetsu, it becomes evident that Yuuri is the only one who remembers the encounter. It’s disappointing but not entirely surprising, given how sick Victor was at the time.

Coming back to competitive figure skating is very challenging and tiring, making one very susceptible to germs. So it’s not completely unexpected when Yuuri finds Victor in the bathroom after practice puking up his guts. “I thought you were coming down with something,” Yuuri mutters to himself, rubbing Victor’s back in soothing circles.. Then, a little louder, “You’re really sick, aren’t you?”

Victor’s shoulders jerk up in surprise, and when he finally gets a break from vomiting, he cranes his head around to look at Yuuri. “It was you?” he asks, sounding dazed.

“What?” Yuuri doesn’t understand what Victor is talking about. Just how high is his fever?

Victor spits shakily and wipes his mouth. “At the Cup of China,” he explains, his voice raspy. “You took care of me.”

It takes Yuuri a moment to get over his shock; he didn’t think that Victor remembered that at all.

“Yes, and I’ll take care of you now,” Yuuri promises, a fond smile on his face. It’s amazing how much can change in just a year.


A LuNyx Fanfic for Valentine’s Day.

Set in my Kingsglaive AU where Nyx works as a bodyguard for Luna on a daily basis.

Summary: A Nif squadron attacked the Princess Oracle’s convoy and now Nyx and Luna are all alone, separated from the others. 

Author’s Note: I’m not satisfied with this one but I hope you guys will like it.

Luna could finally feel her heart beating slowly. She listened to it and silently wished for a tranquil evening despite her current situation.

Once again, she was out into the world and survived another sudden fray. A large Niflheim squadron came to capture her from her convoy on the way back to the crown city. It started the familiar chaos that brought fire and destruction. Fortunately, despite the danger, there was a chance for her to escape and her glaive escort made sure she took it.

But things didn’t entirely go the way as planned.

Tall, dark trees had surrounded them now. The shadows they casted stretched on to the earthy ground as the sun continued to sink into the horizon. They had been walking deep into the forest for safety. They only stopped until the glaive initiated a rest. As she leaned onto the rough bark of the nearest tree, Luna nursed her grazed arm by covering the small wound with a palm. Meanwhile, Nyx was busy fiddling with the communicator that he wore on his ear. After a few taps, a couple of his fingers pressed on it.

“This is Ulric for status report.The princess is safe for now. We need emergency transport.” he stated as he paced slightly. He paused before speaking again. “Can anybody read me?”

His brows creased as he waited for whatever replies that may come from the tiny speaker. Eventually, there was only silence. Still, he continued.

“We lost the Nifs, but I’m not sure if we can stay hidden for long. We need the transport now!”

Another pause, but this time he seemed more wary.

“Can anyone here me? Anyone?”

Judging from the frown on his lips none seemed to have received his messages. He repeated the status report and the pick-up request a couple of times more until his voice became gruffer. No one was there to listen which almost certainly meant that no one was going to come for them. In the dimming forest, a feeling of bleakness came. With all her mind Luna tried to bury it, but seeing his eyes conveying his inner qualm and then his head shaking slightly out of disdain made it a bit more difficult.

In an attempt to change that, Luna straightened her back and spoke. “Maybe we can go back to the road.”

Nyx glanced at her with one of his brows raised. “And do what?” he scoffed. “Fight off a hundred of those MTs and get ourselves killed this time?”

Hearing the snarky tone didn’t stop her from trying once more. “I was saying that there’s a town nearby.” she said sternly. “We can sneak in and find a way to call for help.”

He leaned onto the adjacent tree and allowed himself to slouch. “We still have to go through those MTs.” he stressed.

“But we can find a way to sneak in.” she argued.

“It’s risky.” He retorted.

The princess almost stomped her foot, willing to fight for what she thought was right. “We are already at risk anyway!”

Still, he stayed with his absurd stand. The glaive defiantly faced her. “It won’t work!”

His voice matching her own tone only made her more persistent. “How can you be so sure? We can make it! I can try to-“

“Don’t! Just stop it already! There’s nothing you can do!” he finally snapped.

The princess was surprised by the harsh tone of her glaive’s reply. In the several months of them being together constantly, it was the first time she had heard him interrupt her words like that. It was so abrupt and so sharp that it made her wince. She let go of her mildly injured arm and balled her fist.

Her heart pounded in anger.

“I will not be told what I can and can’t do! Not even by the likes of you!” she uttered without restraint.

Then she removed herself from the tree’s refuge and made sure that she won’t see what his face conveyed by facing her back to him. She stopped at a spot a few meters away and gazed at the whatever she happen to lay her eyes on, which, at the moment, the leaves on the trees that were rustled by the chilled wind. The sight made her hold herself and feel the wound on her arm. It was just a scratch she earned from the attack– something that didn’t actually hurt much. Seeing him acting so strangely in front of her shouldn’t hurt that much as well.

After a while, she heard his footsteps nearing her. Afterwards, she felt his cold, calloused fingers touch her arm hesitantly but with care.

“Let me take a look at that, your highness.” he said softly.

She sensed the repentance from the warmth of his voice. Though still a bit fuming, she faced him to let him tend to the small injury. However, she evaded his eyes. His thumb caressed the skin near the wound and it made her hold her breath somehow. His touch wasn’t foreign to her and yet she felt so conscious about it right now. After checking the wound, he tore off a piece of cloth from his sleeve and wrapped it around the abrasion. He was standing so near that she could feel the edge of his breath on her cheek.

All of it made her heart drum slightly faster.

When he was finished securing the cloth, he slightly stepped back. They stayed there, standing still as the light of the day faded. The towering trees could only emphasize on their silence as she weighed on what she felt. The wind blew again and shook the leaves into a chorus of whispers.

“You didn’t have to come back for me.” he suddenly mumbled.

It made the princess look into the glaive’s eyes. She saw the mesmerizing hue that the sunset painted on them. It was the same eyes that looked in horror as she abandoned the escape that was designed for her during the attack. She could still remember the shouts of the other glaives that desperately tried to keep her from running back and how she managed to fight their grip.

She could remember his own strained shouts as she ran to his side.

Nyx tore his gaze away from her and, for a while, stared at the ground as if he inspected the rocks and the dead leaves that littered around his feet.

Again, he mumbled. “You were supposed to leave me behind.”

Luna’s thin hand found its way to his chest. She felt the cold metal of the Kingsglaive badge and the rough texture of the combat uniform.

“Why didn’t you?” he asked. “Why didn’t you go with the plan?”

She realized it was the root of his anxiety - the princess throwing herself into the fray just for a mere soldier. But he wasn’t just a soldier to her. Her heart told her so - like it told her what to answer at this moment.

“Because I chose you.” she admitted bravely and truthfully. “I’d rather face death with you than bask in my safety alone or with someone else.”

Slowly, he reacted by moving closer. Then she felt that rush again, that adrenaline that was brought by her decision to risk herself for him. As what every heartbeat dictated, her hand found its way up to his cheek. Her thumb caressed one of his small tattoos as his eyes focused on her own orbs.

His lips parted and his head reached down to meet hers. She closed her eyes as she felt his gloved hand cup the side of her face.

And when she felt his lips pressed against hers, her heart sang its joyous song. A rhythm of freedom that she could only feel with him. It obliterated any worry about their current predicament. It revealed every truth in his actions.

As their breaths mingled, the sun hid the last of its light. The darkness didn’t frighten her, nor did she care about it.

All she cared about was what her heart had told her and will always tell her.

I choose him. I will always choose him.

Project Prometheus

anon ask: Hi can I please request an odd Lexa imagine(cause it involves powers)? If so can it be where reader was an experiment at Mount Weather so they somehow have the ability to transfer wounds onto themself, so when Lexa gets shot reader saves Lexa by transferring the wound onto their body and survives because their cell regeneration is faster than nightbloods. Lexa gets mad at reader for almost dying but reader refuses to apologize for saving the person they love

WARNING: mention of blood and wounds, also some turtoring


Originally posted by savemelexa

If you think that the sky people and the grounders had a bad time at Mount Weather, then you’re wrong. You born there, and since the moment you saw the light and took your first breath, the scientist in that place experiment on you, trying to find a way to get to the outside world, you would heal the soldiers when they had been exposed to radiation, you hated it. You meet Clarke when she was trying to escape, you were the one that helps her get out, and also the one that got the punishment. But it didn’t last long, cause the grounders and the sky people saved everyone, including you. You end up being good friends with Clarke, and you even went on the run with her, protecting her every time she got hurt. The first time she got hurt was when a panther tried to kill the both of you, you weren’t too bad, but Clarke was bleeding too much, the panther manage to bite her arm and scratch her back, it as a big and deep wound. You didn’t know how to treat her, so you did the only thing that you had tried to avoid since you got out of Mount Weather. You heal her. The wound wasn’t in her body anymore, it was in yours, Clarke saw this and got in shock, when she was going to help you, your wounds started to heal. You told Clarke about your special power and she was amazed by it, but she didn’t like it when you do it. You had saved her life countless times since then.

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A/N: Cop!Killian Thief!Emma AU because why the hell not :) Detective Killian Jones discovers that the serial car thief he’s been tracking down for over a year is actually his ex-girlfriend, Emma Swan. One-shot. 


“Remind me again how you know this woman?”

David poses the question almost absently, gaze not shifting from the street before them.

“I don’t know her,”Killian tells him, and this time the lie falls almost easily from his lips. “I worked a case a bit like this when I was with a different precinct. Several car thefts – we had CCTV footage of the guy behind it, but nothing beyond that. I interviewed a couple of people who were rumoured to be associates of his. Emma Swan,” he says, and her name makes his mouth go dry, “was one of the people I interviewed. I showed her his photo, she said she didn’t know anything. I didn’t have anything on her so…that was that.”

David frowns. “And you remembered the tattoo she had on her wrist from one conversation?”

Killian shrugs. “I’m a good detective.”

His partner nods, gaze returning to the window, focus returning to the stakeout.

Another lie, Killian thinks, licking his teeth in irritation. One conversation – he hadn’t known the tattoo the witness had described from one conversation.

(He’d known it because it was one of the first things he’d noticed about her, because he’d traced it with absentminded fingers and rubbed his thumb over it at random intervals and – )

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Rating: T

Word Count: 2,403

Warning: cursing, blood, trigger warnings galore

Synopsis: Calum relives some memories he’d rather not talk about when they film How Did We End Up Here.


Disclaimer: This gif does not belong to me, it belongs to the lovely person who made it. ______________________________________________________________

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On-board with the lowest car in @thebritishdriftchampionship, @alekzandrjames’ second qualifying run in his @loworigin S14.

*apologies about the GoPro footage, it seems the spot meter couldn’t handle that amount of sunlight! 😞

#streettracklife #uklowstyle #loworigin #bdc #s14 #s14a #sr20det #originlabo #326power #326poweruk #workvsxx (at Teesside Autodrome)

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There’s something

I wanna see a TV show about autistic peoples. Not one where a little kid is diagnosed and his family is doing everything so he’ll go to school and have friend and a normal life and everyone’s happy when he “overcomes his autism” in any way. Not a TV show with a geeky stereotype whom we’re supposed to laugh at and not with.

I wanna a TV show about that women who’s living on her own, and working in a science field, who’s smart and discrete, and seems a bit quirky but that’s all, and she can’t be autistic because “she’s a girl, you know?”. So no one, even her, thought that she might be autistic.  I want her to pass nearly perfectly, but she’s unhappy and lonely and most things don’t make sense. She feels like an alien in disguise. She’s lost.

And then something happens.

Maybe someone introduce her to that quirky guy, cause “he’s soooo like you, you’ll totally get along”. Maybe they do, and maybe not. But she starts to search for others people like them. And she finds it

Or maybe she she meets that girl in the library and fells head over heels in love with her, and because she just don’t know what else to do, she befriends her first. And maybe they end up together, or maybe she’s not interested, but our hero get to met other peoples like her. Other autistic peoples.

Maybe it isn’t about love. Maybe one night she goes to a bar, or to see a movie, and she meets those peoples, and for once they get along. And that was an autism support group, and she decide that maybe, she could come to help ?

Maybe it’s work. Maybe she has to work on that project, and it  involves an autistic community. She gets to know some of them, and become involved.

Maybe it’s pure kindness. That lost little kids that runs to her in the street, because she feels normal for him and so he turns to her. And she learns that he’s autistic, and so his most of his family.

Maybe it’s weird. That guy who spontaneously talks to her, strangely, because he missed that social rule, or he’s just drunk and not giving a fuck (how is that incredible? It actually happened, you know =) )  “you’re autistic, of course you are, come on i could spot you at fifty meters.”

Maybe it’s really incredible. Simple luck or impossibility. Maybe she went to that political, or gardening reunion, but she comes the wrong  day or in the wrong room, and then steps on that autistic community’s reunion. And she stays.

I want her to grow, I want her to change. I want her to find a community, a place to herself. I want her to rediscover her own quirks, how to stim, to be autistic. I want her to find friends, or some kind of big, weird family. I want her to find a place where she’ll learn to be confident in herself and the others. I want her to be more and more visibly autistic, tu worry and then accept it. I don’t want her to “overcome her autism”, I want her to be herself. I want her to be les NT-passing and more happy. Just not lost anymore.

I want an Autistic TV show with diversity. With black and asian and lots of different ethnicity. And I want it to feel normal, not “we must have that percentage of pocs, that of woman” and such.

I want queer autistic. Straight autistics. Gay and lesbian autistics, and anything else you could think of. I want asexual and hyper-sexual autistics. I want trans and nonbinary autistics. I want that TV show to shows everything that exist, because somewhere, someone will relate to that, and say “look, they’re like me. They do exist.”

I want other disabled autistics. I want to see autistics with SPD, ADHD, Tourette any mental illness or learning disability or neurological weirdness you can think of.  I also want physically disabled people. That young girl who’ll never leave her wheelchair, and that boy who use one even thought he sometimes can walk, and when once he has the spoons to runs no one judge and everyone smiles because “seriously, he looks so surprised”. I want deaf  and HoE autistics that speak, and others that only sign.

I want that show to have enough autistic persons, so that none of them is a stereotype. I want that white, 8 years old little boy who’s autistic and loves trains. I want him, and I also wants his three autistic sisters. His older sister who’s also fond of trains, and taught him everything about it. The second one who’s fond of dragons, cause “they breath fire !!! how cool is it that they BREATH FIRE !”.The little one whose special interest is fashion or  make-up because it’s not less valid. A dysexecutive funny mother that drags everyone outside because “it’s snowing! yepeee”. And a father that supposed to be NT , “come on you need scarfs and gloves, it’s SNOWING OUTSIDE ! “ but with his family how can he be? I’d like him to be like “yes, we have a swing in our living-room, why not ?”

I want that discreet, perfectly normal looking girl that came one day because “you’ve rainbows on your emblems, I like rainbows”. And she stayed. She just draws rainbows anytime she can, and rarely speaks to anyone, and when asked, she always says that she’s not here for autism, she’s here for the rainbows. And they keep her, cause that’s her place and she’s an important part of the community. She’s an habit.

I want that nonverbal one who never stop communicating, who’s  noisy and lively and always interacting with everyone, and thought he is nonverbal, you can’t seriously ever say that he is silent or absent.

I want that unorganized, totally not effective president that has been chosen because he can perfectly pass, be charming and convincing for a moment, and who can defend the association, but that couldn’t do paperwork to save his life.

I want that one that always repeats a question, to everyone, doing echolelia, and everyone tries to answers a last once each time. Those who have an answer and some who don’t. Because it’s normal here. It’s an habit.

I want a perfect geek, who spend most of his hours on the internet because it’s an easier form of communication for him. Who’s fan of starwars, read tons of manga and animes and always cosplay the same person because he identify with him. That knows entire scripts of sci-fi shows and uses it in everyday conversations. He’s the one who created the association’s website, with a high encrypting level and advanced animations (a huge part of them spinning in some way or another. And a lot of rainbows too, cause the girl up there asked him and he just couldn’t say no)

I want different kinds of stimming. I want to see rocking and humming and chewing. I want to see that one who uses lines from songs to speak, and others from books or TV shows and movies (I even want one that sometimes quotes this TV show, because it would be funny, in a “I already heard that, no ?” way ).

I want to see empathy,as a whole. That grown-up man who breaks in tears when someone else cries. That other one who’s always too cheerful and helpful because he really want everyone to be happy but he desperately cant’t tell if they are. That teenager who wonders if others really are humans, if they do have feelings or if they’re just faking it for social purposes.

I also want diversity in opinions. I want to see special episodes about important issues.

I want something about person first or disability first language. I want autistic peoples to disagree, because in real life we do.
I want something about medical or social construction of disability. I want people whose autism is a burden, making their life a hell. I want peoples supporting autism pride, who believe autism is a gift, or a difference that just has to be accepted. I want every opinions between. I also want peoples who don’t have one, cause they exists.
I want an episode about activism and self-advocacy. I want optimists who want to change and reform everything, and cynics who think we can’t. I want those trying with small steps. I want people advocating for themselves, on things that directly touch them, and other trying to speak for the whole community. Peoples who want to teach the whole world and others who just dream to set it of fire.
I want to see acceptance and the lack of. To hear about ABA, compliance therapy, male brain or frigo mother (I’m french) theories, about special regims. About ASAN and Autism Speak. To listen stories of those who where rejected for coming out as autistic, but also of those for who it wasn’t an issue. Those who didn’t because they were scared, because it was too dangerous, awkward or just not necessary. 

I don’t want to see a TV show about autism, how it’s viewed and how it impacts NT’s lives. I want a TV show about autistc peoples, about our lives, our opinions and growths.
I wanna see a TV show about autistic peoples.

anonymous asked:

I" may or may not have robbed a bank just now and please help me get away i’ll repay you in sexual favours and also cash” au for Feysand!

A/N: so this is going to end up being a little mini fic, with this being the first part and I’m kinda excited.  I already have ideas for part 2, but I can’t guarantee when it will be finished since holidays and stuff, but it WILL happen! Also special thanks to @rhysndtrash who fabulously helped me with edits and listening to me babble about ideas and being all around fab.  Let me know what you all think! [Part 2 here!]

Auxilium - Part 1

Hefting her overfilled satchel higher on her aching shoulder, Feyre pounded down the cracked pavement, sweat dripping uncomfortably down her neck and along her spine beneath her less than breathable business casual dress surely not meant for sprinting.  Shooting a glance backwards, she paused to pull her the heels pinching her toes off, testing the concrete and mentally sighing at the beautiful coolness it had, when just two months earlier she would’ve burned the soles of her feet hideously.  And just a month and a half from now, she’d lose a toe or two to frostbite.  So the gods were smiling on her for once.

At least, that was what she thought, until she spotted the meter maid trundling down the street, hawk-like eyes reading the time left on each meter, wicked ticket book in hand, ready to ruin some poor slob’s day.  Not this poor slob.

Hoping to avoid yet another ticket she couldn’t afford she secured her bag once again, gritted her teeth, and vaulted through the luckily sparse late afternoon crowd.  Between the various office buildings, coffee shops, and Hybern Bank, it would never be quiet until after business hours, but there was always a lull between lunch and five o’clock.  Which was exactly what she’d been counting on.

Sending a defiant glare toward her unknowing adversary, Feyre slowed to a stop near her car as the meter ticked to a blinking 0:00.  Pulling the back door open quickly, she tucked her bag low on the meticulously vacuumed carpet behind the passenger seat before circling the parallel parked car, mindful of oncoming traffic, and slipped into the driver’s seat. 

With a sigh, Feyre let her head drop back against the head rest, tossing her discarded heels to the right side of the car blindly.  Shifting slightly and pressing her slightly raw bare feet against the pedals, she rifled through her pockets, fingers finally closing around her keys - complete with her dorky artist easel keychain - when a rather definitive knock sounded at the window.

Groaning, she shoved the key forcefully into the ignition, “I beat you here fair and square - oh.”

Upon turning to face her adversary, she noted it was not her usual squat, ticket wielding nemesis, but a tall, dark haired man with eyes that could only be described as violet - a shade that had her fingers itching for her paints - and a disarming smile, creating the overall appearance of the most beautiful man she’d ever beheld.  And he was gesturing for her to roll the window down. 

Feyre narrowed her eyes, glancing toward slowly approaching meter maid in the rear view mirror before cracking the passenger side window just enough to speak and see those lethally gorgeous eyes that much more clearly, “Speak succinctly.”

His expression sparked at her shortness, if anything appearing more intrigued than offended, before he smirked in what she’d admit in the quiet of her mind was a rather attractive manner, “Any shot you’re willing to give a fellow in need a ride, darling?”

Brows shooting up into her honey colored hairline, Feyre bit back a smile, “Are you serious, ever heard of Uber?”

The stranger propped his forearms on the top of her car, fingers brushing against the slightly rusted metal detailing as he leaned close, “I think they’re tracking my phone.”

Keep reading

MINI-AU where Nico actually went through with his decision to leave both camps “for good.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Nico muttered, glaring at the figure several stories down.

Here he was, trying to track down some damned spirit for his father, Hades, when he’d felt the aura of another demigod. He’d gotten good at that, these last few years. It was a skill he needed to avoid being seen by anyone from Camp Jupiter or Half-Blood, and especially somebody who knew the Seven.

There had been one time where he’d felt the feeling of an impending storm, a certain pressure in his gut, an insistent zipping of electricity in his veins. Then, from his viewpoint of the abandoned house overlooking the city, he’d seen a flash of sharp, blue lighting coming down in an alley. That had only meant one thing— Jason.

He quickly dissolved into shadows after that. If he could sense the son of Zeus, that could mean that Jason might have sensed the darkness and the shadows that seemed to surround him these days. His aura had become several times more powerful, ever since he entered in Hades’s service, running daily errands for his father, like picking up escaped spirits— or McDonalds. He greatly enjoyed annoying his health-freak grandmother, Dementer.

There had been other times when he’d sensed a demigod nearing— the smell of roses, his vision sharpening, and the scent of freshly baked goods. The freshly baked goods had been the reveal— Piper. This had been a month after he left, and his curiosity had gotten the best of him. Slinking around the corner, using the shadows to blend in, just in case, he saw her, a flash of harpy feather and orange t-shirt, shooting pumpkin pies at a hellhound. Feeling a sudden pang of guilt, Nico quickly commanded it to return to where it came from. It froze, the ground fissured apart, Piper grabbed onto a lamppost, the hellhound disappeared into the gap, and Nico froze.

Oh Hades, he remembered thinking as she turned around to where he hid, glued against the wall. Piper must have sensed the Underworld aura, and seeing as he was the only one with it didn’t want her dead, she must have guessed it was him.

“Nico?” she called out hopefully. He saw her hand tighten around the Boread’s sword, just in case.

That had been the only moment until now that he had been tempted to show himself— just step out of the shadows and say hi, show them that he was still alive. If it had been Hazel, Annabeth or Jason, he might have.

For good— that’s why, when he felt the familiar son of Zeus’s presence, he left immediately. If he came face-to-face with Jason, he might have revealed himself. When he said he was leaving for good, he meant it. Even if it meant disappearing in the middle of the night, after his third day in the infirmary. Without a trace or warning, they would have believed him dead. He didn’t have an Annabeth— no one to go searching for him, refusing his disappearance.

There had also been a son of Athena, a daughter of Hermes, and a very violent son of Mars. He hadn’t seen them— feeling their aura was enough to send him running. After two years without sign of life, he couldn’t afford them finding out. He didn’t want them to come after him. He was perfectly fine where he was, Hades’s lieutenant, avenging spirits, seeing the world as he chased them down.

He didn’t miss those three nights at the campfire, surrounded by the Seven & Co. He didn’t miss those days in the infirmary, getting bandages for Will Solace, helping heal campers. He didn’t miss the talks he had with those campers, the friendliness that they seemed to show at the son of Hades’s face.

It didn’t last— it hadn’t, last time.

So, before he could get hurt again, he ran. He’d already done that before, but he didn’t have a goal, he didn’t see a future. Now he did. It wasn’t promising, working for Hades forever, but maybe someday, once everyone he knew was dead, he could settle down somewhere in the fields of Asphodel, in a nice little cottage, far away from Elysium where he knew his friends would be.

It wasn’t a promising future, but it was a calm one. A steady one. One without to much happiness, but not hurt either. It was a future he could live with.

But his future just wasn’t having it.

He hadn’t felt the presence of Apollo’s son— Solace wasn’t strong enough to feel it from miles away, like Jason, or Percy, or him. No, he’d been calmly sitting here on the fifth floor rooftop ledge, enjoying the view of the second-hand market, mortals scurrying around like ants when it happened. He spotted Will before he actually felt his aura— the mop of sunwashed blonde hair and orange camp shirt was universally recognizable.

Surprising, he didn’t immediately run— for two reasons. One, it was broad day and there wasn’t much shadow on the flat rooftop he was sitting on, and two, he was curious. He shouldn’t be, he knew he shouldn’t, but he was. Will had been nice to him— highly annoying, but nice. Also, knowing the healer’s extreme stupidity in potentially dangerous situations, he wanted to make sure he didn’t die. People like Reyna could kill a monster flat-out. People like Will… not so much.

Before he could stop himself, Nico had already launched himself off the building. He spent a quick second free-falling, before using the apartment’s shadow to slow him down as he hit the plaza’s tiles. His boots still landed with a crack, but he ignored the sudden pain. It was nothing compared to that stab he’d gotten from a Burger King spirit— there was a reason he ate McDonalds. Whichever demigod in charge of the anti-monster department was doing a good job.

Nico quietly followed Solace through the crowd, staying on the outskirts to avoid too much attention. The shadows he was using to hide himself could cause quite an interesting sight in broad daylight.

Without realising it, he caught himself eyeing the blonde. Was it him, or had he gotten taller? Had his hair always been this shiny? That blonde? He walked uncaringly, lanky legs wandering around as if he was looking for something. Nico saw him stop at an alley once or twice and peer in. He caught a sight of a freckled face and eyes that reminded him of the color of the sky out of the infirmary window. Had the son of Apollo always been this tanned?

Whatever. He wasn’t here to wonder on Solace’s appearance— Nico was just here to make sure he didn’t get killed.

Then, as if he’d spoken the words out loud, Solace disappeared into one of the alleys he’d been looking into. Groaning, Nico followed him around the corner, using the new shadows to hide himself completely. In such a narrow space, the chances of Apollo’s son seeing him were a lot more likely. Alleys were prime places to murder demigods. Thirty percent of demigod killings happened in alleys.

But no sooner had he turned the corner did he find himself backed against a wall with a dagger at his throat. Will’s face was inches away, eyes narrowed at the boy he couldn’t see, only the shadow he could feel under his knife’s hold. On instinct, Nico lashed out with his hand, using the shadows to whirl the weapon out of the son of Apollo’s hands and into a dark corner. With his other hand, he grabbed his sword and used the handle to jab it into Will’s stomach, effectively pushing him away and onto the floor. Before he knew it, Apollo’s son was on the floor, coughing. Nico just watched him, unsure of what to do.

So he let the shadows drop.

“You know, Solace, you need a little extra training to kill me.”

A curled up Will didn’t look up from the floor, but he choked out something that sounded suspiciously like fucking monsters. Nico hoped it was because he hadn’t recognized him yet— otherwise, this had been a really bad idea.

“By Asphodel, get up. First of all, never just blindly grab an opponent like that. Second of all, what the hell were you thinking?”

Will didn’t reply, so Nico decided just to go get his dagger and hope he could talk when he came back. He used to shadows to hide himself again, and slunk away.

Five minutes later he was back and watching a wincing Will sit onto a crate, holding his sides. The son of Apollo, deeming himself ready to face whoever had knocked him down, lifted his eyes to search around the alley. Nico grinned as his eyes flitted around, but didn’t spot the shadow only meters away.

“Here, you idiot.”

Will’s eyes snapped to where he was standing. “Who the hell are you?”

“Don’t say you haven’t realised yet, Solace? You must be more oblivious than I realised.” He sounded a lot more confident than he felt as he dropped the shadows again, waiting for his reaction.

A pair of sky-blue eyes stared at him quizzically, widing only seconds later. “N-Nico?” He said it as if he might be seeing a ghost, which honestly, Nico thought, he probably looked like. The Underworld wasn’t exactly Circe’s spa.

Nico shook his head. “Took you long enou-”, and then a pair of arms wrapped around him and his vision was suddenly filled with orange.

“Hey! Let me go, you brute,” Nico muffled out. But Solace wasn’t obeying, and he tensed up even more. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been hugged… and then he did. Jason, right after the battle of Gaia, when he told him he w— when he told him he was staying.

“I said, LET ME GO!” He shoved Will off him.

Will sprawled onto the damp floor with a thump and lay there, stunned. Then, to Nico’s extreme surprise, he sat up and started laughing as if nothing had happened. The blonde’s laugh was like the sun itself, bright and rising and sunny, and it reminded him of those three day in the infirmary, when he’d made him laugh simply by mentioning how whoever decorated the Hades cabin thought he had to be a vamp.

“I can’t believe it! I go on some dumbassed quest for Chiron, and who do I find out of all people? Nico di Angelo. I swear, after a year of searching no one finds a trace, but the first time out of camp since then and I almost kill you!”

“You didn’t almost kill me, idiota. I almost killed you,” he yelled. Then WIll’s words caught it’s meaning. “What do you mean, searching?”

Despite the situation, the boy on the ground smiled. “Everyone’s been trying to find you, Death Boy. You disappeared out of nowhere. Most people said you were dead, but, you know…” he trailed off.


Will lifted up a hand. “Jason, Percy, Annabeth, Hazel, Frank, Piper, Reyna, Coach, Grover, everyone at the infirmary, everyone in Percy and Jason’s swording class, half of the Athena, Aphrodite, Ares, Hermes and Apollo cabin, all Reyna’s contacts at Camp Jupiter, all of the nymphs Coach and Grover could convince to keep an eye out, and, well, me,” he ticked each one off on a finger, and Nico felt slightly stunned. The blonde continued.

“The least we heard was about a year ago, from some nymph in Manhattan, but seeing as they tend to forget stuff easily, most nymphs don’t look anymore. Piper swears she saw you about a month after you left, said you saved her from some hellhound. Did that really happen?”

Nico’s own eyes were slightly wide at the list and he stuttered out, “Y-yes. Yes, it did.”

Will’s nose crinkled up as he wheezed out a breath and tried to stand up. Nico darted forward almost immediately to help him. His hands burned when they touched Solace’s, and the blonde jerked the away once he was standing. 

He tried not to feel hurt, when, “Apollo, your hands are freezing. What in hell have you been doing?”

The son of Hades frowned, missing the in hell expression. “Well, mainly making sure the damned don’t escape. And, uh, you know, making sure the servant zombies don’t walk in Persephone’s gard—”

Will’s eyes grew big. “Hold up, hold up. What?”

“Well, I mean, somebody’s got to d—”

“That’s not what I meant.” He laughed, and then, slinging an arm over Nico’s shoulders before he could say anything else, “You know what? I think I saw a Starbucks across the plaza. How do feel about getting a latte, then telling me what you’ve been up to these last two years?”

Nico did his best to awkwardly shrug Will’s arms off his shoulders, but he had a tight grip on his shoulder. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He could already feel himself giving in. In a way, he wanted to go back— and if he went with Will, he didn’t think he would have the determination to disappear again. But giving in would mean giving up a calm, steady future. It would mean facing Camp again, the stares, the hurt, everything he tried to run from. But Nico suddenly felt like he was done with running. He had always thought nobody would hold him back when he left, nobody would search after him like Annabeth had with Percy. But he hadn’t had an Annabeth.

From what Will told him, he had several.

He looked slowly up at Will, who smiled at him like he’d just had the best surprise in a century before grinning,  “You’re coming with me.”

And then, like in the world he had left two years ago, he added on, “Doctor’s orders.”

“Fine. But on one condition.”

“Name it.”

“I get to teach you how to fight. Death Boy’s orders.”


And Nico followed Will out of the alley, and into the sunlit day.

(this was supposed to be a mini fic, I apologise)

anonymous asked:

Hi daddy😘, I have a match on tinder with an 48y man and I think he's a sd. I haven't told him yet I'm a sb but I think he suspects that. He just asked me what I'm looking for but I dont know how to make it clear. Can you please help me?

Let’s get our SD-Spot-O-Meter out and fired up and see what we have:

  • 48 year old man on Tinder
  • Obviously set an Age Range to find women substantially younger than him
  • Asks you “what you’re looking for”

… and, the SD-Spot-O-Meter sez:  ….

95% probability that the dude is a Sugar Daddy!

Gotta love the SD-Spot-O-Meter!  Now that we got our preliminary result, the question becomes what to do next.  

Well, I think I got you covered on that score as well!  A quick search of the sugardaddyjournal archives turns up the following post:  I met a POT on Tinder a few weeks ago

That post is chock full of good information that should help you, but, most importantly, it includes a sample message that you can send to him that will really put the issue on the table.  I have modified it just a tad to fit your situation:

Hey Roscoe!  Thanks for your message!  I am interested in finding out more about you, but, just so you know, I’m not looking for a conventional sort of relationship here, I’m looking for a sugar daddy.  If that sort of approach interests you, we should definitely talk!  If not, hey, I understand!  And, before you decide one way or the other, let me tell you that I’d be a great sugar baby for you!  I’ve done this before and, believe me, it’s a great deal for both of us!  You want to spend time with an attractive, sexy (and sexual ;-)), interesting and fun woman and I am looking for a guy who is the same and who can provide me with financial support along the way.  And neither of us wants all the strings associated with conventional relationships!  So, if you are intrigued, let me know and we can talk about the details!

Try that on for size and see what happens!  As I said in my previous post:

I think this gets the job done!  There is no need to get all clever about it!  There is no need to talk around the subject, drop hints or hope that we will eventually come around to your view.  By being direct, you are going to find out whether he wants to play your tune tout de suite!  The guy will be down wit’ it or he won’t!  This type of message will help you get to the decision point much faster, which is the name of the game!


Modern Star Wars (TFA)’s characters (1/6)

↳ Ben Solo/Kylo Ren

Literature student, who goes by the name of Kylo Ren. Loves sketching people on local coffees while drinking his usual espresso. Loves black clothes, old paper and My Chemical Romance. Passionately idolizes his dead grandfather. Learning how to take nice portraits on polaroid cameras… Of course he’s just practicing on that ginger guy, that’s all. “Can you take a photo of me while I act casual?”. Pretty much that hipster guy who sits alone on the grass at lunch, while reading books and having a couple existencial crisis, but also a dork. Dealing with a difficulty of controlling his anger.

Slave to Pleasure [19]

(gif not mine credt to the original owner)

A/N: SURPRISE! With all the feedback I got from the last update I knew I had to show my gratitude with two consecutive updates <3 

Warning: Disappointing lack of sexual content, terribly written fight scenes and HELLA PLOT TWISTS. 

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Unbroken: 6 Unbelievable Facts About the Real Louis Zamperini

As intricately detailed and historically accurate as director Angelina Jolie’s “Unbroken” is, there’s no biographical drama that can capture everything about its subject. The film, starring Jack O'Connell as Louis Zamperini, concentrates on roughly 10 years of the Olympic runner-turned-World War II POW’s life. As Laura Hillenbrand details in her best-selling biography of Zamperini, who died at age 97 in 2014, the man lived a long and fascinating life.

Here are six remarkable facts about Louis Zamperini, also known as Louie, the Torrance Tornado, and Zamp. Want to learn more about the Italian-American runner who survived the unthinkable? Read the book and watch the movie —available to own March 10 on Digital HD and March 24 on Blu-ray and DVD.

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Alison deeply regrets going off on the Master

Posted up to chapter 7 of my Scream of the Shalka fanfic, Hold Me Fast, over on AO3. It’s about Alison Cheney trying, with the help of the Master and…well, mostly the Master, to figure out what happened to her and him during the events of Feast of the Stone. [She, the Master, and the Doctor were beset by a psychic vampire, but she’s not sure what shit went down.] In this excerpt, Alison just realizes what she has done by telling the Master to STFU. Oops.

 There’s a silence in which the room seems suspended in anticipation. Alison, letting her arm fall to her side, wavers from toe to head. She looks fixedly at a spot about a half-meter from her feet because she certainly can’t look at him. Maybe, if she nails her gaze to the ground, it will create a tether by which she can maintain verticality and any dignity that she hasn’t already spilled.

 Yeah…no. She can barely stand now; she leans one hand on the arm of the chair, suddenly as mentally evacuated as the Magister previously described himself. Because that’s what happens apparently after you go into space to escape the unjust bullshit of the world. You discover that it’s out here too, ready to kick your arse just as much as its Earth equivalent. Then you have holes bored into your mind, and you start leaking. Your confidence goes first, followed by your captaincy and your mastery. Then you lose your ability to think, sleep, and even walk upright. Finally you end up emitting twenty-seven years of accumulated rage in the direction of an evil alien super-powered robot whose idea of fun is mind-fucking his equally alien and super-powered spouse.

What Is The Zone System: A Practical Guide

If you want us to put it in the simplest words possible, the Zone System is a helps us get the right exposure in all our photos, every time, without fail, even in the strangest light settings, and without a trusty matrix meter. It is a magical system conceived of by none other than Ansel Adams himself, along with photographer Fred Archer in the late 1930s. As the father of landscape describes himself, the Zone System is “not an invention of mine; it is a codification of the principles of sensitometry, worked out by Fred Archer and myself at the Art Center School in Los Angeles, around 1939-40.” These masters of photography created the Zone System to help us expose in tricky lighting situations where the dynamic range is out of whack, or the lighting is fooling your light meter into creating exposures that are too bright or too dark.

The Zone System was originally developed for black and white sheet film, which was the only type used in those days. Sheet film was individually developed on standard exposure papers, but today we have color roll film that can be mass developed on papers with varying exposures. The Zone system is as much applicable to these “modern” methods as they were to the film it was created for, and can even help digital photographers get perfect exposures. And guess what? Digital photographers, the Zone System can work for you too!

Why do you Need the Zone System

Technically you probably don’t. However, for those of you who are exposure perfectionists, the Zone System is extremely effective in measuring different tones and the dynamic range of a frame that you are about to shoot. It helps you make the perfect exposure with just a spot meter to work with. This gives you immense control over what you’re shooting. You don’t just make guesses at what the right exposure might be, or waste film bracketing “just in case”. Thus, you can easily figure out when you require extra lighting, and what kind and amount of lighting that might be, or whether there is need for a fill flash to get the right brightness. It can also help you figure out if you need graduated neutral density filters.

The zone system is highly beneficial in capturing accurate images when the camera is unable to set the exposure to an accurate reading, so that you get to decide what your image will turn out like, and you know exactly how it will look before you make the exposure. 

How does the Zone System Work?

A camera’s metering system measures accurate exposure readings by focusing on the middle grey tones, which is 18% grey. This grey is the average of black and white. So, when you are shooting in a bright area, your camera will try to dim the light by bringing it down to the average and making the image underexposed in the process. Similarly, when you are shooting in a dark area, your camera will try to increase the brightness of the image, making it over-exposed. Understanding this mechanism is crucial to understanding how the zone system can be used.

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*** can you do an Imagine where you wind up in the Show Teen Wolf and manage to save the pack from a baddie and yet your a mere human and Derek falls in love with you***

I wasn’t really sure what you meant by “wind up”

It’s not everyday you manage to stumble onto a fight between supernatural creatures. You knew you shouldn’t have taken up jogging, you read a text post once saying that joggers are always the ones to find shit and the accuracy is unbelievable. 

In front of you, was a beast. In loose terms, in could be described as a wolf but it was darker than that, more vicious. It was hard to look at as well, like a collection of shadows trying to consume the light around it. That was the only way you could describe the monster with its back to you.

As panic settles in, you being to survey the other things on the area. There’s a group of people standing in a semi-circle around this creature, they look like they need an opening, they need a distraction. This also happens in the same second you spot the gun, only meters away. That’s when you do something stupid. You pick it up and aim.

“Hey!” You call out, there’s terror in your voice. The beast turns to you and it’s like being near a freaking Demontor as you stare in its blood red eyes. You get off one shot. Then another. Then another. It shrieks in agony you can even hear a… sizzling noise?

That’s when the group of people attack. It’s like a choreographed movement, a dance they’ve already practiced. One of them grabs you by the arm and starts to drag you away from the site.

An awkward teenager sits you on a log and paces in front of you.

“Oh man, oh man, ohmanohmanohman.” He says rubbing his forehead.

“I just saw a… It was… And its eyes…” You babble not quite sure exactly what happened back there. 

He turns to you then and distantly you think about how he’s cute for a high school kid. “Okay, we’ll wait. Derek will know how to deal with this.”

So, you and the awkward teenager sat on the log, waiting. It wasn’t much longer before more teenagers emerged from the trees along with a man- who was rather attractive, in that I’m -mysterious-and-dangerous kind of way. The scrawny, mole-covered teen jumps up.

“Oh, thank God.” He sighs with relief. “What are we going to do with her?” He says, gesturing to you.

Dark and Mysterious folds his arms over his chest, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “We thank her.”

“Thank her?” Moles exclaims.

Mr. Mysterious smiles at you and you blush. Um, where have you been all my life? “Well, she did just save our asses.”

“Oh, yeah,” You say, flicking your hair out over your shoulder. “I totally save random people from weird wolf-like creatures everyday. No thanks is necessary.”

You should be freaking out, that is probably the normal response to what just happened to you but the fact that there is a hot guy, who seemingly isn’t a fuckboy, talking to you, it’s easy enough to delay the mental breakdown that will surely happen later.

He laughs and based on the shocked looks he gets from the teenagers around him, that probably doesn’t happen often. “Well, I’d like to thank you anyway… Maybe I could take you to dinner?” 

You tuck a flyaway strand of hair behind your ear and smile as you respond, “Sure, I’d like that.”

Jinx // Tokyo Ghoul Fanfic, Kirishima Ayato/Fueguchi Hinami

for ayahina week day 2! the prompt is team. hope you’re having a good day~

~1800 words. this fic is part of this au, and contains some violence. excerpt:

“Quit sobbing,” Ayato hisses. “You know what’s going to happen if other ghouls see that shit here?”

“N-no —”

“Well, they’ll eat you. They’ll eat you alive.”

She actually looks horrified. “But — but I’m a ghoul too.”

“So? It doesn’t matter. This isn’t fantasy caféland anymore, okay? This is reality. Anyone who isn’t strong is food.”

She has the decency to nod briskly and wipe her eyes. But then she says, “Okay, Ayato-kun. Thank you,” and he shakes her.

“No! There’s nothing to thank! It’s just common sense! I don’t care about whatever relationship you had with Aneki, I am not your friend. Got it?”

“Yeah,” she says, swallowing hard. “Yes. Sorry. Thank you.”

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