favorite pokemon sun and moon internet jokes/trends:

  • It’s ya boi, guzma
  • guzma probably sounds like a youtuber
  • ya’ll are stupid
  • Bean Man
  • MMMMMM beans
  • people crying over pokemon refresh
  • crying over pokemon toughing it out in battle
  • ____ called for help
  • depressed man adopts many cats
  • garfield alolan persian (actually the worst but…)
  • Cest un disastre!
  • The protagonist’s unchanging expression
  • Grimsley, what happened?
  • Red and Blue are totally engaged
  • *pulls out weapon* get it the bag, nebby
  • the anime mimikyu noise
  • I still have one question. Who IS the masked royal?
  • Hau getting mad when you didn’t listen
  • Nanu’s Z pose
  • Olivia’s Z pose
  • Team skull tried to steal a bus sign
  • Were you grown here or were you flown here?
  • Grandma, is that YOU?

swagness2001  asked:

Have you ever thought about writing something where Rock Lee time travels? His lack of chakra or however you choose makes him the safest option or something. And he claims to be Gai's brother or something. I don't know. I just figured you would get a kick out of it.

“Excuse me,” Tenten says with chilling sweetness. “You want to what?”

It says something about how many times Tenten has kicked his ass in sparing, Shikamaru thinks in amusement, that Naruto twitches back out of range of Konoha’s Weapons Mistress with just as much speed as he uses in getting out of Sakura’s range.

“It’s the best solution,” Naruto says, and if it’s a little weak that can probably be excused given how Tenten’s eyes are flashing dangerously. “It won’t work if the traveler’s chakra shifts at all during the trip, and Lee’s the only one we can be certain will manage that. I’d send Gai, but—”

“So,” Tenten interrupts, and Shikamaru takes a discrete step out of range. When Tenten abandons politeness, especially to the Hokage, it usually ends with someone being turned into a pincushion. “You’re going to send Lee back in time to lie repeatedly to everyone he knows in the hope that he can stop Madara from coming back to life for a second time.”

“…Yes?” Naruto asks tentatively, and Shikamaru closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.

Tenten goes for a scroll, and Shikamaru ducks for cover behind the desk as Naruto starts screaming.

By the time he surfaces several minutes later, the office is peppered with kunai, shuriken, and various other well-maintained weaponry, and Tenten looks satisfied as she looms over her cowering Hokage, rerolling one of her scrolls.

“Not alone, you’re not,” she says decisively. “I’m the only one in Konoha good enough to completely seal my chakra away. You’re going to send me, too.”

“That’s dangerous,” Shikamaru feels the need to point out, and when Tenten turns to him and raises a pointed brow he lifts his hands in surrender. “We have no idea how long the trip will be, and too much time with your chakra sealed will kill you.”

“I know.” Tenten meets his eyes squarely. “But I’m not letting Lee face that alone. He’s one of the best shinobi in the world, but he’s also my teammate.”


“How troublesome,” Shikamaru mutters, watching the world turn to sunsets and crashing waves as Lee throws himself at his genin teammate. Tenten manages to set her feet enough to keep from being bowled over, and even though she rolls her eyes as she pats him on the back, she looks distinctly fond.

“Your youthful spirit of friendship has moved me to tears!” Lee sobs into her cheongsam. “The spirit of our teamwork is too mighty to ever taste defeat, Tenten! Together we will save the world!”

“Yes, yes,” Tenten sighs, though she’s smiling. Over Lee’s shoulders, she meets Naruto’s gaze. “Naruto, if anything can contain Madara for the rest of eternity, it’s the Treasured Tools of the Sage, and I’m the only one in the world who can use them. Besides,” her voice is wry, “Lee can’t lie to save his life. I can.”

Naruto picks himself up from the weapon-littered floor, wincing a little as Kurama’s chakra takes care of most of the wounds. “All right,” he says finally. “Lee, you’re sure you want to do this?”

“Yosh!” Lee salutes him enthusiastically, offering Tenten a beaming smile. “I will tell Gai-sensei I am his long-lost brother!”

If there’s anyone who will believe it, it’s Gai, Shikamaru thinks wryly. He glances at Tenten, raising a brow, and she crosses her arms over her chest, scowling at him. “Uzumaki Tenten, at your service,” she says primly, and casts a glance at Naruto. “If you don’t object?”

Naruto’s grin is practically blinding. “I’ll adopt you into the family and make it official!” he agrees, bouncing on his toes. “You’re definitely good enough at sealing to be an Uzumaki anyway, believe it!”

Lee flashes into a victory pose. “Team Gai will save the world, have no fear!” he cries.

“What he said,” Tenten agrees cheerfully, and reaches out to grab the kunai that Naruto just pulled out of his shoulder. “Hey, don’t just drop my favorite kunai on the ground! That’s rude!”

Naruto splutters. “Rude? You’re the one that threw it at me!”

Well. Shikamaru looks them over, Lee with his flailing enthusiasm and Tenten locked in her argument with the Hokage over her beloved weapons, and snorts quietly to himself.

Madara won’t even know what hit him.


You’re seventeen and “Kenny” means home in a way you never thought you’d know. It means safety, held tight in the arms of the first boy you’d ever fallen for who loved you back. It means stolen moments in hotel rooms and empty billet houses, hot kisses and skin against skin. It means being happy in a way you hadn’t thought was meant for people like you. It means everything going right for once.

You’re eighteen and “Kenny” hurts, a stab wound straight through the heart. It means finding that boy you loved on the bathroom floor, barely breathing, calling an ambulance and the Zimmermanns in complete shock, not even in tears. It means going first in the draft, a spot that should never have been yours. It means going to visit for the second time, ink barely dry on your NHL contract and a sour taste in your mouth—you weren’t the first choice; you never were. It means having a door slammed in your face, all but literally. It means breaking down in wrenching sobs in a hospital hallway. It means getting shut out and, once again, being reminded that love was never meant for the people as broken and fucked up as you.

You’re twenty and no one has called you Kenny in what feels like a lifetime. You nearly bit Swoops’ head off for trying, so one else has. You’re still not quite happy, but hoisting the Stanley Cup over your head helps. The first Cup for you, the first Cup for your team. It means so little, though, compared to the mid-season shakeups on the team prior to the win. The captain of the team retires with yet another concussion and you’re the one called in to receive the C along with the words that change everything—“we always wanted you, Kent. Even if Zimmermann hadn’t dropped out, we still would have taken you first.”

You’re twenty-one and your boy is back in the news, back on the hockey stage. You can return to Kenny, you think. He’s only playing NCAA, but you can give him a push. Your team has the cap space to take Jack Zimmermann, and management knows the Parson-Zimmermann legend. If they can get Zimms, they will. Your task is to woo him, both as the captain and as Kenny, to get him to leave college hockey behind, go to something bigger. It doesn’t quite go as planned, but you leave promising yourself that you’re going to get him.

You’re twenty-four and as soon as you see him you know that Kenny is lost forever. You see the way he looks at the little blond boy and the way his whole demeanor falls to shreds the moment he sees you. Later, “Kenny” falls from his lips, but it’s more a curse than the prayer it used to be. You try to talk to him, but he’s so shut off and you know that Zimms-and-Kenny is lost. It’s your eighteen-year-old heartbreak all over again.

You’re twenty-five and you’ve never really paid more than cursory attention to the Falconers before. They were just a few games out of the eighty-two, an expansion team that hardly posed a threat. A solid middle-of-the-road team. But then Zimms goes and signs with them and suddenly the Falcs are very much on your radar. Enough, at least, to make risky plays, pissing people off and generally amping up that smug persona you radiated on the ice. After Zimms scores to tie the game you lose your temper—not that anyone would know—and score in response, taking out the goalie instead of peeling off or stopping. As the call for a coach’s challenge rings across the ice, members of the Falcs take justice into their own hands and someone grabs you by your scruff, pulling you out of the scrum as he swears at you in Russian. As a lineman pulls you free you get a look at your aggressor and you definitely only slip from the change in pull on your body. He’s six inches taller than you, handsome even through the outrage that crosses his face as it’s announced that your goal stands. And later, as he fucks all thoughts of Zimms clear out of your head, you think that maybe you could be okay again.

You’re twenty-nine and you’re crying for the first time in over ten years. “Kenny?” Alexei asks worriedly from where he kneels in front of you. He has never called you that before, but in proposing he has gone through any name that could be used for you, the romantic fool. The name sounds so different rolling off a Russian tongue than a Quebecois one and you can see good memories replacing the bad as you nod frantically through your tears and let Alexei slide his ring onto your finger. “Love you, Kenny,” Alexei says as he rises to his feet and kisses you deeply.

You’ve come full circle. “Kenny” means home again. And you’re finally happy.

This is very long but I don’t care. 

I’ve known my sister, Hannah, her entire life. I met her the day she was born. I was there when everyone first saw the purple and blue veins on her left cheek. But, I don’t remember seeing them for the first time. I don’t remember giving them much thought. For the past fifteen years, I can recall a handful of days I or anyone in my family have spared a thought to those veins on her cheek.  I have spent much more time being jealous of her natural beauty.

But, today is one of those other days, one of that small handful. Today my sister shares a story and it’s not the first of its kind. She sits on the kitchen counter, eats an apple and says that it was photo day for her soccer team. She describes posing for a profile shot with her left cheek facing the camera.

“Don’t you want to face the other way?”  The camerawoman asks as politely as possible.

“No, I’m fine.” She says and holds her ground.

“Are you sure?”

“No, I’m good.”

And then, having given up her crusade, “That’s some bruise! Did you get that in a soccer game?”

“No,” and I know she must have shared an awkward smile and laugh, “It’s a birthmark.”

And I’m sure the woman was not expecting that and I am in no way attempting to ridicule her for her words. What I am trying to do, is revel in the bravery and self-confidence of my fifteen-year-old sister. My sister, who has stood in front of countless people, both children and adults, and dared to be proud of her appearance.

“Is that a tattoo?” “No, it’s just a birthmark.”

“What happened to your face?” “It’s a birthmark.”

“Did someone hit you?” “No.”

“You know, when you get older, you could get plastic surgery. It would be like it was never there.”

I have only spared a handful of days like this, contemplating my sister’s appearance and strength of character. I do not take notice of the purple and blue on her face. But, I know she thinks about it every day. I know she sees it. I hope she continues to embrace it.

Private Party

(gif from james-bucky-barnes)

Private Party:  A Bucky Barnes one shot

Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings:   nsfw below the cut, smut.  penquins.  bad old man jokes.  delayed party gratification

Synopsis:  You and Bucky are stuck out on surveillance on an unexpected mission.  Turns out there is an excellent way to distract your partner and boyfriend from missing his 100th birthday cake…

A/N:  Written for @bucky-plums-barnes​​​​​ 100 Banging Kinks for Bucky’s 100th Birthday challenge.  She still has a few kinks to fill so if you can write a drabble quick go help her out.  This kink was Outdoors.   Now how can a geologist resist that?   Please be gentle.  Have never written this format before.  Hugs to @emilyevanston for holding my hand and making sure it didn’t suck too much. 


“Helluva way to spend a birthday….”

Bucky shakes his head, grumbles low for just the two of you before sighting through his scope for the umpteenth time.   Away in the middle distance nothing moves.  Not a bird.  Not a cavy.  Not even one of Darwin’s blue grey foxes Tony was so enthused about.  So far a bust.  If Xisis was planning on making his final move he was taking his sweet time about it.  

A low hiss of angry steaming sigh leaks out.  Nothing—you’ve both got nothing–just like the last ten times you’ve checked.  Reluctantly Bucky hunkers down, uses the jut of rock that forms your blind to shelter from the wind.  The March air might be warm but the swirl whipping across the poa grass is strong.  Grit flies with every gust.

It makes you itch to clean the barrel of your gun.   

Keep reading

I think it would be cool if they added partner victory poses. You could optionally pick two victory poses, one of them being a normal one and one as a partner one. If someone else on your team has the pose corresponding to your own, then it would make you use your partner poses together. If not, then you just use a normal singular one. Partner emotes would be neato as well (tbh I mostly want this for Junkrat and Roadhog lol)

Dodging Emotions
  • GRUNT: *Is on top of a tall building* I'm going to end it!
  • GUZMA: Grunt, you can't. *Takes a step forward* I've tried to many times, but all of those times a flying type pokemon would come out to save me.
  • GRUNT: *Pulls out a video game* Yo, I was just talking about a video game boss I was going to defeat. Do we need to talk?
  • GUZMA:
  • GUZMA: About the video game.
  • GRUNT: No, yo! About what's inside of you!
  • GUZMA:
  • GUZMA: A skull.
  • GRUNT: Boss, your emotions, the deep ones.
  • GUZMA: You're loosing it if you think I've got any.
  • GRUNT: Boss.
  • GUZMA: Don't make me give you a beat down, grunt.
  • GRUNT: Boss, even if you do beat me down, I'll just come back up for you.
  • GUZMA: *Cracks his knuckles* You've got no reason to do that.
  • GRUNT: I've got a reason and it's you.
  • GUZMA: *Throws a punch that goes right by the grunt's head*
  • GRUNT: *Is calm*
  • GUZMA: *His fist quivers as he slowly puts it on the grunt's shoulder* Stupid... Alright, I'll tell you.
  • GRUNT: *Eyes begin to widen*
  • GUZMA: Right after this last try! *Runs and jumps off of the building, doing the team skull pose*
  • GRUNT: Boss, no!
  • FLYING TYPE POKEMON: *Comes in and saves Guzma*
  • GUZMA: *Rubs his head in anger* Guzma, what were you trying to do!?