the mistakes he makes are good man mistakes

a stroke of fuck | one

pairing: sehun x reader, jongin x reader, yixing x reader
genre: fuckboy!au, college!au, smut, angst?, series
summary: there was good in the world to balance the bad, but when it comes to boys are they good for anything except breaking hearts and causing trouble?

pt.1 / pt.2 / pt.3 / pt.4 / pt.5

A/N: AS ALWAYS I DIDNT PROOFREAD THIS, please let me know what you think D:

Originally posted by intokai

“Fuck, you’re getting my dick so wet,” Sehun moaned while seeing the way his dick glistened with wetness. Biting his lip, he threw his head back and smirked. How did he get so lucky? Looking back down, he pushed the girl’s thigh further back, giving him the best view of how his dick stretched out her pussy. Another slew of filthy words left the boy’s mouth as he leaned over the moaning girl’s body. His large left hand moved beside her head, his chest on hers, nipples rubbing against each others as he slowly pushed his thick, pulsating dick back inside her.

Lifting her right leg, she wrapped it around his thin waist as their bodies roughly rocked the bed. The headboard slamming against the wall brought her closer to her long awaited orgasm. Her senses began overloading. Sehun’s hot breaths against her stretched neck that adorned three hickies, the short curls just above his hard dick that brushed against her swollen clit, his hand that had a firm grip on her thigh to stop her squirming.

“That’s right squeeze my dick,” he groaned against her jaw. Increasing the speed of his thrusts, he lifted his left hand and began rolling her hard nipple between his fingers. “I’m so close,” her whimpers added to the noise of undeniable lewd acts.

Keep reading

ok so like full offense… I can not be the only person who notices that most (not all) Tony fans will be the first to admit that Tony Stark is Not Perfect, and he makes mistakes and fucks up sometimes… but if you try to tell a Steve fan that Steve also fucks up and makes mistakes, most (not all, but most) get Offended becasue Steve Rogers is Captain America and a Good Man and he can Do No Wrong and I am TIred I just don’t understand

The Joyride - Part 2 (Jason Todd x Reader)

A/N: Part 2 to The Joyride! I’m really glad that you guys enjoyed part one so much! Here’s the ending to your cliffhanger, but no guarantees that there won’t be another!

Warnings: Angst, descriptions of injury

Tagging: @solis200213 @pinkwitch21 @tigeragathe @gokusanfan @just-a-girl-maybe @queen-of-all-the-fandoms @neverlandprincessjaz 

Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four

Jason blinked in an attempt to dispel the blurriness that clouded his vision. He was lying in a hospital bed with an IV hooked into his arm. His head was pounding and he squinted at the bright lights above him. He grunted slightly and moved his unhindered wrist to shield his vision.

“You’re awake,” came the gravelly voice from beside him, which he identified as Bruce’s.

“Yeah,” he groaned hoarsely, turning his head to face Bruce. “What time is it?”

 “About five in the morning. It’s a Saturday. Why do you ask?” Bruce replied, maintaining his usual composure.

 Jason noted that it was still early the morning of the accident, meaning he hadn’t been out for too long. “(Y/N). Is she- I- Is she- How is she?”

Jason didn’t miss the darkness in Bruce’s eyes or the grimace that he attempted to hide. He felt a pit forming rapidly in his stomach and he shook his head, his eyes going wide. “She’s- She’s d- dead?

 “Not dead,” Bruce corrected, and Jason let out a sigh of relief. “But it’s bad, Jason. She’s going into emergency surgery. I- I wouldn’t get my hopes up.”


 There was silence between the two after that. The occasional beeping of the machines, and the steady quiet buzz of the air conditioner were what kept the room from utter silence. It wasn’t for a few minutes until Bruce spoke again.

 “They say- They say you’re lucky to only have sustained a concussion and some bruising. Especially compared t-” Bruce cut himself off before he could finish. It wasn’t a statement Jason would appreciate.

Jason, however, didn’t need to hear the end of the sentence. He knew what the ending was. Especially compared to her. He shifted his head awkwardly against the stiff material of the hospital pillow to look away from Bruce.

“How did you find out so soon?” Jason asked, less out of interest in the answer and more out of a desire to fill the silence. To give himself less room to think.

 “They recognized (Y/N) as one of my wards, called me over here about an hour ago,” Bruce explained.

 “I see,” Jason replied shortly.

 Another painfully long moment of stiff and awkward silence came to pass.

 “I know you blame me for this but-”

 “I don’t.”

 “You- You don’t?” Jason asked, slightly surprised. He had been expecting Bruce to make this more difficult. To make him feel guiltier than he already did.

“No. But I know you blame yourself. And I don’t think that’s fair,” Bruce said, his tone even and his voice unfaltering.

“How would you know that it’s not my fault? How do you know this didn’t happen because of some irresponsible mistake that I made?” Jason inquired, still surprised at Bruce’s lack of vindictiveness. He turned his head back across the pillow to face the other man.

“How do I know? Because I know that you don’t make irresponsible mistakes when it comes to her. I know that when it comes to her you take precautions, and you’re more careful than I’ve ever seen you,” Bruce stated matter-of-factly 

Jason didn’t know how to respond to that. So he didn’t. And suddenly he understood why Bruce stayed silent when faced with difficult questions. Because sometimes there was no good way to answer. “What are her injuries like?” Jason asked, deflecting off onto another topic.

“Are you sure you want to know? It’s not pretty. I would understand if-”

I want to know,” Jason cut him off firmly, steeling himself for what he was about to hear.

Bruce nodded, the expression on his face grim. “They said that there’s extensive internal bleeding in several locations and-” Bruce paused to let out a weak sigh. “The impact caused several broken ribs. One of which- One of which punctured a blood vessel. The lacerations she suffered were severe and some cut into the bone. One shoulder is dislocated and the opposite wrist is broken. She has shrapnel scattered throughout her legs. It’s not pretty.”

Jason’s mouth ran dry. He had imagined that your injuries would be bad, but this? This was more than he knew how to process. “I- All of that?”

Bruce nodded wordlessly. “Despite all of that,” he started slowly, “They say that she’s lucky. Her head, neck, and spine are all intact, aside from minor stress from impact on her spine.”

“Lucky,” Jason tried out the word for himself, and he felt a sense of bitterness as it rolled off his tongue. Lucky. He didn’t feel like you had been lucky. He felt like the hospital staff decided to call your condition lucky because they didn’t have the hearts to tell him that you were on the verge of death. All because the two of you had been bored and sleepless at an odd hour of the night. No. Lucky wasn’t right. Lucky wasn’t right at all.

You awoke abruptly with a tube down your throat and no idea where you were. Immediately you wanted to kick your arms and legs, but not only were you restrained, it hurt to move. Every inch of your body was in pain, and your muscles ached and your chest hurt with every movement 

You felt panic rising in your chest and you started to hyperventilate. You struggled against your restraints despite the fact that every single fiber of your being was screaming for you to stop. You wanted to cry out, but you couldn’t get your voice to work, and the breathing tube restricted you from any form of verbality. Despite your inability to call for help, before you knew it, there were people in pristine white clothing standing above you and gently holding you down.

You felt a sharp and searing pain rip through your abdomen as you twisted your torso in a strange way while attempting to struggle against the doctors and nurses.

The pain forced you to stop resisting so much, and after a few moments your state of hyperventilation had passed. After you had calmed down, you gained some recollection of what had happened and where you were.

Another few minutes had passed and a nurse began to ask you questions about what you remembered, how you felt, and if you knew why you were there, having you write down your answers on a pad of paper with your unbroken wrist, though she was careful not to harm the dislocated shoulder.

Your writing was barely legible. Your hand had been trembling violently the whole time, and your only usable hand was your off hand.

Once she seemed to be done interviewing you, you zoned out, still in shock after your violent wake-up and the events of the crash. You heard her say something about stitches, and then something about extubation before you completely tuned out 

The breathing tube was uncomfortable, but it seemed like a minor thing compared to the pain you felt up and down your arms and legs, as well as in your abdomen. You had no idea what time it was. The curtains were drawn, and you had absolutely no perception of time, aside from the wall-clock which read seven-fifteen. Morning or night, you couldn’t tell.

You shut your eyes and tried to ignore the pain. Instead you focused on how tired you felt, and how nice it would feel to sleep. Slowly, you drifted out of consciousness.

When you woke up again, you felt no panic. Just bleary eyed and still just as tired as when you had fallen asleep. This time, though, there were two people in the room with you. One at your bedside and another sitting by the door.

You blinked a few times and gave your vision time to clear. You identified the two people as Jason and Bruce, and a strange sense of comfort washed over you. Bruce was dressed in civilian clothes, but Jason wore a hospital gown.

Both were asleep, Bruce hunched over in the too-small chair, and Jason slumped onto the side of the bed with his head resting in his arms.

The clock on the wall read seven-thirty, but you doubted that it had been only fifteen minutes since you were last awake. No. You felt the hours of sleep in the way your eyelids seemed to stick shut when you blinked.

You wanted to make some move to alert them that you were awake, but the breathing tube still kept you from speaking and Jason was on the side of your broken wrist. Your dislocated shoulder prevented you from reaching across and waking him with your other hand 

You felt helpless all over again. You were scared and it felt like you had been alone for an eternity.

As you realized your predicament, you became painfully aware of the sounds of your breathing tube and heart monitor and the buzz of all of the machines that were keeping you alive.

That was another thing that scared you. How close were you to death? What kind of line were you walking? What if you fell onto the wrong side? What if you fell asleep right here and just never woke up? What if the last time you ever got to see Jason he didn’t get to see you? It scared you tremendously. But it was a hollow, passive fear. Passive because what else could you be with a tube down your throat and two useless arms? As you stared up blankly at the hospital ceiling you realized that the most terrifying experience of your life wasn’t staring into the barrel of a gun, or colliding with the asphalt at fifty miles per hour. The most terrifying experience of your life was taking place right then. Staring passively up at a hospital ceiling. Helplessly wondering if you were going to die. There was no adrenaline. There was no rush that kept you from looking death straight in the face.

You pondered this for a long while, until, to your relief, Jason stirred from his sleep.

He groaned slightly as he awoke, and you smiled to yourself as best you could around the tube 

You watched as he lifted his head and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Slowly, his eyes met with yours, and you saw slow relief take over his expression.

He smiled sadly and moved a hand to the side of your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered, his eyes expressing relief, but also guilt and love.

You managed a small shake of your head. It’s not your fault, you wanted to say. The subtle change in his expression told you that he’d understood what you’d meant.

“I love you. I- I just- I need to say that. I love you.” The sadness he carried in his voice broke you. The way his voice started to break at the end. The bittersweet message that his words carried. I love you and I need to say it now because if you fall asleep again I might not get another chance.

You nodded your head as best you could, never breaking eye contact with him. I love you too, you wanted to say. There were so many things you wanted to say in that moment. I love you. It’s not your fault. If I die I don’t want you to blame yourself forever. I’m scared. I love you. I love you. I love you.

His hand never left the side of your face, and he continuously brushed circles on your cheek with his thumb. As you watched him, you swore you could see the moment where whatever thoughts he was having, whatever ideas plagued his mind, broke him. His face contorted into a caricature of grief and it alarmed you.

It was so unlike Jason to cry, or display his grief so openly. Part of you wanted to tell him not to waste his tears on you, but the other side wanted to cry along with him. To cry because of the helplessness that ate away at your resolve.

Jason managed to wipe away his tears quickly, and if you hadn’t seen it yourself, you wouldn’t have been able to guess that he had been weeping just moments earlier. He rest his head gently against your upper arm, careful not to hurt you.

A few moments of comfortable silence passed before you felt a sharp and painful twinge in your abdomen. You winced slightly, but paid it no mind. You figured it was just a bruise, or some stitch from your surgery that had been pulled 

You grunted in pain when the twinge returned, more painfully. You became alarmed once the pain branched up into your chest. It hurt like hell, and soon your entire abdomen was in excruciating pain.

You cried out through the breathing tube. It was a strange, mangled sound and it had Jason’s head shooting up from the bed.

“(Y/N)?” he asked in a panic, trying to get you took look at him. You cried out again, and Bruce, who had just woken up, shouted for a nurse.

Several people came running into the room, two of which began pulling a struggling Jason out into the hallway.

He fought tooth and nail to get back to your side, struggling hard against the people who were pulling him away. 

“I love you!” he shouted, just as he was pulled out into the hall, and the door was shut in his face.

anonymous asked:

Seven year old Anakin Kenobi Skywalker "He says his heart lives in the temple."

Peeking at the tall beings in robes, Anakin swayed back and fort on his heels while biting his lips curiously.

Yoda, the tiny being in green but with no hair was smiling at him with gentle amusement. “Strange is it that into the temple you got little one. Live on Coruscant you do?”

Anakin nodded happily. “With ma daddy. He’s at work though. He told me to stay at school until he came to pick ma up.” He beamed, missing one of his front teeth before his smile turned thoughtful. “He’s not gonna be happy even though he likes this building.”

“Oh?” The darker, sterner looking human leaned forward, watching him. “What makes you say that little one?” He raised a brow.

“Cause I catch him smoking in the window sometimes, watching the temple.” Anakin shrugged. “He says his heart lives in the temple.” He grinned and watched the Jedi trade long looks.

If only he knew they were wondering if they had stumbled into a love affair…

Before they could question further, Mace comm chirped loudly.

Answering with half an eye on Anakin, Mace got a reply that stunned them all. “Masters, there’s a man taking the elevator up to the council chambers! He just…he batted the guards out of his way with a grouchy face and muttering to himself.”

In front of them, Anakin wrinkled his nose. “Uhu, dad’s there.” He squirmed nervously and glanced to the doors. “I’m in soooo much trouble… he’s gonna take my tv privileges away for a week for sure…” He pouted.

Calmed by the child ease, Yoda chuckled. “No threat in the Force I feel. Only a nervous parent we are to encounter so let him come we should.” He smirked a bit at Anakin. “Perhaps listen better to your father you should?”

Anakin just grinned at him, giggling a bit.

They could hear the ding of the elevator doors opening before the warmth of a Light Force presence filled their direction of sense, only soured a bit by the worry shot through it.

Yoda however recognized it, his ears shooting high in surprise before a warm smile crossed his face. “Ah…”

Mace shot him a look but couldn’t question him as the doors smacked open, a redhead in somewhat dirty brown spacer clothes standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, hair tied back in a braid though those facing his right side could see a smaller braid beneath the young mans right pierced ear and a copper colored groomed goatee framing his mouth.

“Anakin Kenobi Skywalker, you scared the Light out of me!” Obi-Wan Kenobi, not seen in the temple for the last eight years said, his lips drawn into a tight grimace.

“But dad!” Anakin scuttled to his father, grabbing onto his belt with a wide grin. “I followed a tooka! It was white!” He beamed up at him.

Obi-Wan however was not the slightest assured, his eyes growing wide. “Did you follow it through the slums?” At the blonds chagrined silence, Obi-Wan dropped his arms to settle his hands on his hips. “Anakin Kenobi Skywalker, you are in big trouble, you hear me? If you think the time I found you near the slums were bad, you are going to find this time worse. I am going to keep you in meditation fo-”

Yoda cleared his throat.

The redhead sighed, rubbing his hand over his face and gave the blond a long look. “We are talking about this later young man, you hear me? And how you even got into the temple.” With that he looked up and gave Yoda a wry smile. “Master Yoda.”

“Obi-Wan.” The goblin returned, ears twitching. “Eight years since I seen you it has been.”

Snorting, Obi-Wan reached down and picked the boy up on his hip, giving the blond a dry look before stepping further into the room.

Unafraid and unworried about being in a room of Jedi.

“Before Melida/Daan comes to mind.” Obi-Wan offered a touch dryly before sighing and smiling. “Though I will admit its good to see you master.” He chuckled.

Yoda hummed, watching him. “…Grown you have.” He noted finally.

The young man tilted his head before shrugging. “We all make our mistakes and then we live with them. We either get lost or we grow with them. I made my mistakes on Melida/Daan and now I live with them.”

The rest of the council exchanged slow looks, realizing just who they had.

The former padawan of Qui-Gon Jinn.

Well… this was quickly becoming complicated.

anonymous asked:

What's your opinion on Snape? Do you think he is overall a 'bad guy' or do you think his mistakes were redeemed by the whole 'Always' thing?


Here’s the one good thing I will say about Snape: he’s a very complex and interesting character. Claps&hurrahs for JKR, because his layers are strong. But that being said–

Lol, Snape is scum.

In the wise words of Jake Peralta:

Snape didn’t make mistakes. He willfully and consciously made awful choices. 97% of them–including anything “good”–were selfishly motivated. He was a bitter, miserable, selfish, damaged man who loved with a kind of unhealthy, single-minded tunnel vision that makes complete sense with his history, but made for one seriously fucked-up relationship (“Always” my ass). He joined a bigoted cult because it made him feel powerful. He betrayed that cult–not because he realized what he was doing was wrong–but because he was personally affected. He bullied and belittled children because that got his rocks off, too. Being part of cycle of abuse does not excuse agency or actions. People who romanticize him are not reading the books–they’re projecting. I honestly and firmly believe that.


and honestly i don’t blame Saw for being how he is. Mon Mothma has the ability to look at the Rebellion through a very privileged perspective, but Saw has never gotten that opportunity which has shaped him into what he is today. 

It’s easy for Mon Mothma to condemn what Saw does when she’s sitting comfortable at Yavin. I mean that’s pretty much how politicians work in real life, they make choices while people around them typically suffer.

 It’s no mistake that Mon Mothma is a privileged white woman making choices for a Rebellion that is full of marginalized groups, choices that don’t always help them (Even Hera realized this). It’s also no mistake that Saw is a man of color forced into a corner because the system that’s supposed to help him has failed him, and does what he can to cripple the Empire yet is regarded by Mon Mothma as an extremist (half way for good reasons, but then in general all of his actions against the Empire make him in extremist in Mon Mothma’s eyes when that’s not always the case). 

That’s the same reason that Ezra is more inclined to align with Saw as we saw in the Episode, because he’s lived a very unprivileged life, where its people like Mon Mothma who make decisions for he and his people that don’t always benefit them. 

Saw is an example of someone working against a system that has continuously failed them, and as he put it “played by the Empire’s terms.” that’s very relevant of societies and marginalized groups today, who are forced to become “extremist” due to the system failing them. 

And it’s something that a white woman is silencing two men of color (Ezra and Saw) when they disagree with her tactics, tactics that haven’t been working for them, but have been working for her, or at least not affecting her as badly as it has them.

She’s not the one having to sacrifice her life on the front lines despite pushing plans that don’t work. People like Ezra are. People like Ezra are the ones who suffer. 

I don’t condone all of Saw’s actions, but I understand why he does them. And I understand why Ezra agrees with him. 

Just some subtle racism in the Star Wars universe that sadly reflects our world today. 

It's rant time.

If you ever DARE to call yourself a fan of a group and you single out one or two members and call them names, pick on them for physical features, try and make them insecure or try and make them feel like they should not be in the group in ANY WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM….you are NOT a fan. You’re a real shitty person. There are whole twitter pages right now dedicated to hating on members from certain groups. Taehyung from BTS is one I saw today. Saying he can’t sing or dance and picking on his physical features, saying he isn’t a visual and saying quote “ot6 will rise without Taehyung because he’s ugly.” And people are actually agreeing with this awful human being. And she stans Seokjin. Literally tweets about how she loves the other 6 but singles out Taehyung and gives him disgusting hate for NO REASON.

It’s sad that people are so fucking unhappy with themselves and their lives that they have to make someone else feel like shit. Especially someone like him. He has so much love to give and so much warmth in his heart and soul. He loves armies and he loves children, he looks at them with such adoration. He cares for his group members and he is sensitive. He’s such an amazing human being. If you hurt him and insult him, you have no fucking right to call yourself an ARMY. None at all. Armies don’t consider you an army. And you can be damn well sure that bangtan wouldn’t either. As the other 6 absolutely adore Taehyung. He’s one of the most gentle and loving people I’ve ever seen. How dare you insult him and then call yourself an army.

This goes for every other group too. I’ve also seen twitter pages insulting Taeyong from NCT because of mistakes he made when he was what? 12? He’s a GROWN MAN NOW. Are you seriously saying such disgusting and nasty things to him because of mistakes he made when he was a child? I have seen videos of him talking about it and I’ve seen him cry over it. He is absolutely genuine and he is sorry. That’s all he can do. That’s what human beings do. They make mistakes and they apologize and learn from them. He takes care of all of the members and he is a genuinely good person. I really believe that. Wholeheartedly. And if you insult him and then call yourself a fan of NCT, you got some real nerve.

Now I’ll move on to Vernon of Seventeen. Picking on him because he’s half Korean and half white? Really? I’ve heard people say he’s lying about being Korean at all. This is so dumb on every level possible. I’ve seen people pick on him also for his physical features and even his personality like??? Don’t you have better shit to do than pick on this precious fucking gift to the world?

This goes for any group. These are just a few I’ve seen floating around. You can’t bash one member of a group and bully them and then call yourself a fan of the rest. You can’t. It’s all or nothing.

Anyway I’ll never understand why people are such pieces of shit goodnight.

Sugar Burn (part 3)

summary: despite his hard exterior lance loves to spoil and praise his athletes (as well as you) but when you come to visit him at his gym, his acts of kindness are too familiar and insecurities as well as fears rise to the surface

pairing: sugardaddy!lance tucker x reader

word count: 2219

warnings: sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, swearing, mentions of sex

tag list: @sebatianstanisbae @sophs-the-name @the-red-world-of-jess-chibi @whatthehellisacastiel @emilyinbuffalo @propertyofpoeandbucky @thatbandchick39  @learisa 

part 1,   part 2

Originally posted by formyfandoms

Lance has never been the time type to shout your love from the rooftops despite how much he might have wanted to. Things are different now, Lance knows change needs to happen and it does so the moment he walks through the gym doors all eyes on him. Hope looks at him, her perfectly manicured eyebrows risen with her arms folded across her chest sending both a glare and a look of confusion to the gold medallist. Lance ignores her as he does with everybody else’s gawking, he knows why their jaws are dropped but he chooses to push it to the back of his mind.

They’re confused, they hadn’t seen their fearless leader since your argument. Lance had suddenly disappeared and no one knew why but what they did know was that Lance was currently in the building and looking happier than he had looked when he had left the gym the day of your fight.

Keep reading

“Redemption” - Tamlin

@hermajestymanon I shall win this war. 

Feyre’s eyes snapped as magic slammed into her forehead. She was falling, falling an impossible distance. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she wasn’t sure who caught her. 

Feyre gasped, blinking slowly. “Tamlin?” Feyre whispered, staring into his bright green eyes, his eyebrows pinched in concentration. Feyre could feel the waves of magic vibrating around them, she could feel an evil, stronger magic pushing against Tamlin’s. 

“It would help if you stood up, beautiful” Tamlin gave her a crooked smile, thick blood slipping out of his mouth. Feyre rolled to the side, landing in a crouch. “I have your back,” Tamlin grunted and he let the shield fall, just as Feyre sliced out with her own magic. 

“Move,” Tamlin urged her, wrapping his arm around her waist. He half dragged, half carried Feyre down a long corridor, his blood still dripping out of his mouth. More blood slid from his nostrils, but he kept moving. 

“Tamlin. Tamlin, we can’t leave them!” Feyre shouted, crying out in agony when she put too much pressure on her right leg. Tamlin swore and he leaned Feyre against the wall, handing her his blade. 

“I never planned on leaving them. Give me some credit, Feyre” Tamlin shoved his hands outward, a wave of magic rippling through the corridor, tearing it apart. The ceiling fell. Tamlin grunted and he looked down at Feyre. “Stay” 

Feyre heard his back crack. Tamlin tilted his head back and roared and Feyre covered her eyes as a beam of bright light flashed before her. When she looked back, Tamlin was gone, but she saw the shadow of a beast on the walls. 

Feyre blinked slowly, gripping Tamlin’s blade and her own Illyrian one. She breathed through her mouth, trying to understand where everything went wrong. So, so wrong. Who had betrayed them? Did someone even betray them? Or was the King always one step ahead? 

Was the King always one step ahead even with Tamlin helping them? 

Feyre went still when she heard footsteps. She forced herself to her feet and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Tamlin, burdening the weight of three grown Illyrians on his body. 

The beast’s front leg shook, then snapped, causing Tamlin to fall. Azriel and Cassian moaned as one, falling on their sides. Feyre scrambled to her feet, helping Rhys up, putting his weight over her shoulders. She gripped his arm, staring down at Tamlin. 

Move” Tamlin grunted, before he stood up. His arm hung loosely at his side, but the High Lord slammed it against the wall, and Feyre cringed as he knocked it back into place. “Feyre, cover our rear. Protect their wings” 

Feyre blinked slowly. The Tamlin before her was something new, something different. Feyre remembered when Rhys told her about how he and Cassian and Azriel had trained with Tamlin, how the four of them had become something like brothers. Feyre wondered how many times Tamlin had protected their wings. There was so much she still didn’t understand about their pasts together. 

Tamlin bent down and he picked up Azriel, grunting, and placing the Illyrian on his back. Feyre didn’t want to ask how Tamlin could bear his weight, on top of letting Cassian lean against him. Her legs were shaking with just supporting Rhys. 

“Am I being saved by Tamlin?” Cassian whispered, his eyes dazed and unfocused. Tamlin gave a droll half grin, blood still coating his teeth. 

“I owe you a few” Was all the male said, before he started walking. Azriel, balanced on one shoulder, his limp body pressing into Tamlin’s back, his wings hanging, unmoving. Cassian, his legs leaving a trail of blood, arm wrapped around Tamlin. Rhys, helping Feyre more than she was helping him. All of them, beaten, broken, in pain, dying. And Tamlin was bearing their weight, helping them escape. 

“Why?” Feyre whispered. She sent a wave of magic behind her blindly, hoping it would delay their attackers. “Why are you saving us?” Feyre whispered. Tamlin turned his head, his eyes narrowed. 

“Ask them when you all make it out alive” Tamlin grunted, shifting his shoulders so Azriel wouldn’t fall. He continued to walk, his legs buckling each time. Feyre doubted they would make it. She didn’t know how long Tamlin could hold two Illyrians, she didn’t know how long she could hold off an enemy she couldn’t see. 

“Feyre, go” Rhys whispered, pointing forward. Feyre noticed the thick closed door. Tamlin stood by it, gently leaning Cassian against the wall, then slid Azriel from his back. He gripped Azriel’s face and tapped his cheek gently, mumbling under his breath. 

Tamlin stepped away from Azriel, before pushing the door open as far as he could. He braced his back against it and Feyre watched as his legs grappled for purchase, the door pushing against him, as well. Tamlin reached out, grabbing Cassian’s forearms. Cassian swore heavily as Tamlin dragged him across the floor, and pulled him into the darkness. Tamlin now only used his leg to keep the doorway open, pulling Azriel in after Cassian. His face was contorted in pain, breathing hard, sweat dripping down his skin. 

There was a shriek and Feyre stumbled into the wall, Rhys falling after her. The ground shook, the very castle shook. And Feyre was positive the entire island was shaking with the King’s rage, mixed with his beasts. 

Tamlin’s fingers linked with Rhys’s and he dragged the High Lord forward. Rhys seemed to be yelling something, almost pleading with his “enemy”, but Tamlin ignored him. He pulled Rhysand into the darkness next. 

Feyre lunged forward and Tamlin caught her as the castle shook again. The King’s monsters finally caught up to them. “You aren’t coming with us,” Feyre whispered. Tamlin’s arms slacked against her back, their noses almost touching. 

Not so long ago, they were in this embrace, because Feyre was lying to him. Pretending to love him; pretending, lying, being a spy. It was all the same. Not so long ago, Tamlin was a beast. A true, living, terrifying beast in the body of a man. What Feyre saw before her, was one of the best stories of change and redemption she would possibly ever know. She hoped to one day paint the story of Tamlin. 

A man who wasn’t born a beast, became a beast, and died a man. A good man. A good man who made mistakes, accepted those mistakes, and tried to make amends. A man who was using his life to save three Illyrians who had hated him for centuries. To save a girl who should have never entered his life anyway. 

“Do me a favor?” Tamlin whispered and Feyre nodded. She felt the same vibrations around them again. Tamlin had a shield that split the corridor in two, keeping the enemy forces at bay for as long as he could. “Remember me like this? You didn’t know me before, but, remember me as I am now?” 

Feyre took in his face and she pressed her hand tightly against his heart. Tamlin shuddered, knowing Feyre was pressing against his stone heart. She nodded once. Then she was flying and arms wrapped around her middle. Feyre didn’t think she would cry when Tamlin died, didn’t think she would fight for him. He hadn’t fought for her. But as Rhys held her back and as Tamlin stood on the other side, slowly pushing the door closed, she screamed. 

She tried to scramble forward, kicking at Rhys, scratching his arms. Tamlin had no right to make himself the sacrificial lamb, he had no right to choose when he died, he had no right to stand there, smiling sadly. 

He had no right to make himself a martyr. 

Feyre wanted him to live so she could punch him in the face for trading his life for theirs. 

“Tell my sister I said hello” Rhys said. Tamlin nodded, before the door closed in front of them, leaving them in darkness. Feyre cringed as she felt the walls shake, as she heard a roar, as Rhys dragged her down their escape route. Their only change at survival. 


She would keep her promise. Tamlin would be remembered as he was in his last moments. 

Tamlin roared as the door closed. He clenched his fists, baring his teeth at the King’s forces. He looked to his left and a girl stood beside him, smiling, joy in her eyes. She swung an Illyrian blade around, her eyes shining. 

“I knew the man I loved was still in there,” Chiara said. She took a step towards him, and grabbed his hand. She swung her blade again in her left hand, squeezing his own hand. “I love you”

“I love you too,” Tamlin laughed softly. “I missed you. They’re safe; your brothers are safe. Your wings…I kept them. I’m so sorry”

Chiara paused, her eyes twinkling like stars. “I know. It’s okay” She took a small breath “They’re alive because of you. Welcome to martyrdom, my love” 

“Is this what you felt like?” 

Chiara pulled him close, pressing their brows together. She swallowed softly, running her thumb down his cheek. “It isn’t such a hard decision to make. Your life for the one’s you love. Yes. This is what it felt like. It will be short, I promise” 

Tamlin nodded, swinging his own blade. 

Then Chiara ran forward and Tamlin ran after her, slicing through the beasts, right after she did. Her slices, her stabs, her kicks and jabs, did nothing. But Tamlin did as she did, taking down as many as he could, before he was overwhelmed. 

Tamlin was knocked onto his back, drowning in the sea of enemies, and he grunted. He head slammed against the floor, cracks spreading across the floor in his wake. He looked to his left one last time, and he saw Chiara standing over him, smiling. Her violet eyes were swimming with an emotion Tamlin couldn’t place. 

“I want to save you again. I don’t want you to die” Anguish. That was the emotion. But also…happiness? Possibly happiness, because they would be together again. 

“A little late for that, my star” They both bowed their heads, and then there was nothing for a long time. Tamlin was lost in an eternity of nothing, of everything, of nothing and everything. 

Then he opened his eyes, and there she sat. Under the night sky. Leaning back on her palms. 

Tamlin thought it was more than he deserved. But he would not question it. 

He walked forward and sat by his mate. Chiara leaned her head against his shoulder and their fingers intertwined, their joined hands resting on his knee. Tamlin pressed his lips against her forehead, nuzzling her hair. 

“Rhys says hello” 

World War Maas II continues. 

A few causalities have been reported. 

But the masses still stand.

Not for long. 

anonymous asked:

Is Ford a bad guy or just a gray character?

Well, it depends on how you look at things.

Ford has done some pretty bad things in the past (building the portal, turning his back on his brother, potentially hurting and/or killing creatures from other dimensions), but it wasn’t like he set out to do those things. He didn’t want to have to hurt people. He didn’t know what that portal was capable of until after he’d built it. He didn’t intend to ignore his brother for ten years, or send him away when Stan finally arrived in Gravity Falls.

What makes a person bad for doing something like this, in my opinion, depends on two things: One, was it intentional (did they actively try to hurt people?) and two, did they feel bad afterwards? Did they feel like what they did was a mistake? Someone like Bill would be considered a bad person (if you didn’t expect this, then I have no words). He actively tries to cause as much suffering for as many people as he can and he takes enjoyment out of it. He laughs as people scream and run in terror. He laughs at the idea of pain and he takes so much pleasure from causing suffering.

Ford, however, does not. He never intended to disown his brother. Heck, if you’d told him a week before the science fair incident that he was going to exile his own twin for ten years, he would have said how ridiculous that was! The twins have been close ever since they were born! Of course, twins have a naturally strong bond to begin with, but Stan and Ford’s is even stronger as a result of Ford’s childhood. Ford wouldn’t willingly abandon that.

The thing with Ford is that, as soon as anyone shows him the slightest bit of kindness, he latches on and doesn’t let go. Likewise, as soon as anyone says even the slightest mean thing to him, he returns that hatred a hundredfold. Because Ford is used to being picked on. He’s used to the name-calling and the hatred from his peers. He believes that as soon as someone so much as hints at disliking him or anything about him, they’ll turn on him in a second. Similarly, if anyone shows the slightest hint of liking him, he’ll immediately try and be as nice as possible in return in hopes of making friends.

Bill? Bill told Ford that he was a genius and had big things coming in his future. Ford accepted the compliment and took the bait hook, line and sinker and he trusted Bill with everything.

Stan? Stan ruined Ford’s chances of getting into West Coast Tech (albeit by accident) and Ford was beyond furious. I mean, “Why would I want to do anything with the person who sabotaged my entire future?!” definitely sounds like Ford was mad to me.

The thing is, though, Ford feels remorse for what he’s done.

Ford knows that he hurt Fiddleford with the portal, and that he’s permanently messed with his friend’s mind. The thing with these thoughts is that they’re from after Ford returned. Not from immediately after the portal incident. This indicates that Ford has been suffering with this remorse for thirty whole years. Even after all the hell he’s been through while lost in the portal, Ford still feels horrible about what happened to his friend.

It isn’t just what happened to Fiddleford that Ford feels remorse over. It’s obvious how bad he feels for what he did with Bill’s help, and while he doesn’t necessarily show it emotionally, he shows it through actions. As soon as he gets back, he dismantles the portal entirely and starts planning ways to protect the Shack from Bill. He tries to keep the kids away from it all because he knows how dangerous the stuff he’s working with is and doesn’t want them getting hurt.

He works so hard to protect everyone from his mistakes, and even when that fails, he still goes through tremendous amounts of torture to protect them. He knows that his family could well be getting hurt during Weirdmageddon, yet endures the torture to keep the rest of the world safe, despite the cost to his own body. He knows what he’s done is horrific and wants to keep everyone else safe from the consequences.

Ford is a man who has made a lot of mistakes. He’s fucked up. He knows he’s fucked up and he’s doing his best to make up for it. He ploughs so much energy and time into fixing his mistakes and he feels so much remorse for it all.

Ford isn’t a bad guy. He’s a good guy who’s done bad things, but who’s trying to repair it all, no matter what it does to himself.

Yakov God of Skating and Everyone’s Angry Dad

Since Yakov is Always Angry Dad to his group of skaters I like to believe he was the one who took Yuuri back to his hotel room in Sochi.

This is how I imagine it went down: (Ao3 link)

“What the hell have you all done? Vitya why are you allowing this boy to do this to you?” Yakov could feel the start of a headache. He had been pulled out of the room to talk to some sponsors for Yura when someone from the hotel interrupted to ask if he could ‘control his skaters’ the answer of course was no. No he couldn’t. He’d been trying for years but it never bloody worked.

He would however try.

He hadn’t anticipated anything too bad. They must have just gotten tired of the boring banquet and started making havoc in their rooms again.

He was catastrophically mistaken.

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There goes my man, being a moron… You should have told her earlier or brought it up somehow. I know there’s no good way to handle this but yeah…yeah… Oh John.

I’m sort of glad they didn’t try to make John perfect though. He’s just a regular person who makes mistakes, he can’t get everything right. This one was a pretty darn big mistake, but it happened and he did own up to it and apologize when Clarice confronted him. It’s still painful. This is painful and awkward.

EDIT: But I also sort of like that he doesn’t handle it perfectly, either. It makes it more real, it turns John into less of a Impossibly Wonderful Guy to a Realistically Good Person.

In this African tribe, when someone does something harmful, they take the person to the center of the village where the whole tribe comes and surrounds them.

For two days, they will say to the man all the good things that he has done.

The tribe believes that each human being comes into the world as a good. Each one of us only desiring safety, love, peace and happiness.

But sometimes, in the pursuit of these things, people make mistakes.

The community sees those mistakes as a cry for help.

They unite then to lift him, to reconnect him with his true nature, to remind him who he really is, until he fully remembers the truth of which he had been temporarily disconnected: “I am good.”

Shikoba Nabajyotisaikia!

NABAJYOTISAIKIA, is a compliment used in South Africa and means: “I respect you, I cherish you. You matter to me.” In response, people say SHIKOBA, which is: “So, I exist for you.”

anonymous asked:

Do you think that Dumbledore supporting Grindelwald's ideas 'For The Greater Good' makes him a Nazi-sympathizer?

‘For The Greater Good’ was never Grindelwald’s ideology. As it is implied in DH it was Dumbledore who supported and emphasized this point and Grindelwald later appropriated it in order to attract more followers and promote the ‘righteousness’ of his cause.

Were Dumbledore’s ideas questionable? Was it naive to believe that they would be able to establish wizard supremacy in a way that would benefit the society as a whole without harming the muggles and oppressing other social groups? Definitely. But that’s what he believe in my opinion. He was an idealist and did not share what was later revealed to be Grindelwald’s actual vision. Actually, he and Grindelwald had parted ways when Grindelwald went for the wand and when he actually tried to apply his version of their plans.

In my opinion, Dumbledore wanting the wizarding community to be in a position that would allow wizards to stop hiding makes sense. He is not just hoping as a young, smart and ambitious man. His sister had been attacked, he’d seen up-close how the oppression that they faced could affect and destroy families. However, as much as he has been demonized by the fandom, the fact that he was a supporter of muggles, muggle-borns and half-bloods and did not focus on blood-supremacy speaks volumes. It would make sense for him to want to blame the entire muggle-community after his sister got assaulted (hopefully not raped too ?) by muggles and his father ended up in prison for it. But he didn’t. He still chose to see the best in people instead of generalizing. 

Dumbledore never practiced any of what they were planning with Grindelwald and never supported the practical manifestation of those ideas. However he made two great mistakes:

1) He delayed facing Grindelwald and that had consequences to the rest of the world. He wanted ‘the greater good’ to be his main aim and he was open to redefining what that meant, and yet he could not act accordingly and put aside his feelings and his shame.

2) He never managed to let go of his idealism.

Thinking that the main reason that everything he believed in had not worked out because he allowed himself to be distracted by his feelings for Grindelwald, he tried to not emotionally invest in people. He was above all a politician. He tried his entire life to achieve social well-being by adjusting and readjusting the parameters of his ideas. He did not get too close to people in order to not be held back by emotional ties, he tried to stay away from political power… and he failed. He cared deeply about Harry, he also cared about Hagrid and maybe even about Snape in my opinion -even though I think he saw a lot of both himself and Grindelwald in Snape and was less guilty about how everything affected him because he kept projecting. He also cared about all his students and the entire wizarding community. He put social justice above himself and above his personal life but that doesn’t make him heartless. 

As the headmaster of Hogwarts, Dumbledore still found himself in a position of power and of social and political influence. He made questionable choices; some of them good, others ambiguous and many of them plainly bad. His need for control took the better of him BECAUSE he wanted to have the efficiency he lacked in his youth; BECAUSE he was so terrified of the way in which his ideas had been twisted and he was hoping that they could still work if only he managed to monitor the situations. 

Albus Dumbledore was a man of many mistakes and failures, but he spent his entire life trying to make up for past mistakes, including the way his beliefs had been used and distorted. I will never see him as a Nazi-sympathizer.

Dear Ratboy, a hoborat fanficton

It was a cold and rainy night in the streets of London, winter was approaching sooner than expected and the rain kept pouring and pouring, like it was never going to end.

Roaming the streets of London was a handsome lad by the name of Tord. But today might of been the worst day of Tord’s life. You see, he became homeless, a hobo. He had failed his plans to take over the world and his two allies have decided to ditch him to get married. Soon after, Tord fell into a deep depression and one day, the police found his hiding place and he had to make a run for it. Which bring us here..

To escape the rain, Tord made his way to an alley way to find some sort of shelter. He searched and searched for a good place to stay when he finally found a vacant trash can! He jumped inside and closed the lid.

It smelled like rotten eggs and moldy cheese in there but it was better than nothing. He closed his eyes and went to sleep.

Suddenly, he heard a knock at the trash can. “Knock, knock!” Uttered the man who was knocking.

Tord responded with a “Who’s there?”

“Uhh.. People call me Rat Puppet man.” Replied the voice.

“Rat Puppet man who??” He asked again.

The voiced sighed. You could hear that they were fed up. “Rat Puppet man and you happen to be in my trash can!” He took off the lid to reveal Tord was inside.

“And who might YOU be?” Rat Puppet Man asked with a frown.

Tord was a bit nervous. He didn’t want any trouble. He responded. “Uh.. Heh. People call me Red Le- Uh..” He paused. “You know what, you can call me Tord. Hobo Tord… Since I just became homeless.”

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Drunk in Boston

In reference to this post, about someone getting a random postcard from a previous tenant. Tagging @thegreatshipcaptainswan and @ab-normality for encouraging the madness! Totally unbeta’d. I feel like it took me far too long to write this little ficlet, and figured I’d best not delay it further!

Summary: Emma Swan receives a mysterious postcard from Boston. Little does she know, it’ll change her life.

Once Upon a Time

Captain Swan

Rated G

2240 Words

Originally posted by bctmans


I used to live in your house. I’m drunk in Boston, and it’s the only address I know.

Happy Holidays.


Emma turned the postcard over a couple times, taking in the strange message, and the artistic photo of the brewery the card was purchased at. She wasn’t sure if it was a sweet gesture, or if it was just some drunk thinking he was funny.

Deciding it was likely the latter, she stuck the postcard into her planner before heading out to lunch. If anything, the girls would get a kick out of it.

Regina was the first to comment. “Well it looks like your first Christmas card is from a drunk guy in Boston.”

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A dominant man will not start off with, ‘Bow down on your knees upon receipt of my message!’ There seems to be many complaints from women about this kind of ploy as first introduction, and this is reason alone to ‘block n’ move on.’ (I would advise ladies to use this tactic often and liberally rather than engage in argument or flame wars…life is too short). Ignore the Insta-Dom.
- A dominant man will not seem ‘desperate’ for your attention. Getting dates or getting laid is not his problem; he can find women on kink sites, at work, or in the grocery store. He knows women, and women are drawn to him. Many women, kink or vanilla, prefer a man who is take-charge both in the bedroom and in life. If a ‘Dom’ becomes frantic, anxious, or despairing because you don’t write him back every other hour, chances are he has a hard time with the fairer sex. The good news is desperation is easy to spot.
- A dominant man most often will be successful, a maverick, or at least happy in his chosen profession. If he has had some bad luck in his past, it will be fleeting, for he will strive relentlessly to place his universe back into the order mandatory to his existence. If your suitor languishes in poverty, unemployment for years, or hates his job, most likely his dominance is merely a cover-up to appease his lack of success. Though he may not be the millionaire, look for the man who is happy, confident, unique, and/or successful in his chosen endeavour.
- A dominant man will be very interested in you, and not just your sexual needs (though they will certainly get his attention). He will see you as a puzzle, and desire to make sense of that puzzle. The dominant guy loves challenge and that in essence is why so many submissives find disillusion in the vanilla world; most men do not seek challenge in sensuality, they fear it. Submissive women are the most challenging of lovers for they have great fantasy. Their fantasies often require a man to move far outside normal gestures requiring both skill and creativity. How you think about a myriad of criterion will be of great interest to him.
- A dominant man is likely to be damn good in the sack. Most men have their hands full with straight-up vanilla sex. The dominant man has either mastered or has no interest in such elementary play, at least not all the time. Making a woman orgasm many times has left him bereft of sport, so he now seeks a woman who will challenge him on other levels. The dominant guy is going to have a good understanding of the female anatomy, and will persist in finding the keys to your body and mind. He will have done his homework and already experimented in real-time on many lovers. He will be a bit of the Don Juan, if not Don himself; not a womaniser per se, but certainly sexually advanced.
- A dominant man may have all the accoutrement of kink (the whips, chains, and whatnot), but he will not need them to be dominant. A whisper, a word, a look, a swagger, and a touch are the essence of his talent. Confidence is his weapon of choice, not bragging about his dungeon. Those who tout their toys too highly might well be lacking in other departments.
- A dominant man will be very cautious in selecting you because he knows you have great desires, hopes, and dreams, and it is he that has to live up to them. Above all things he will wish to be good for you. He attempts to choose wisely but may at first make many mistakes in his choices as he finds his way.
- A dominant man will make mistakes and have no fear admitting them. The dominant guy knows he is not All Knowing, for he is human. A guy who believes he never makes mistakes or does not admit to them with good cheer is most likely not dominant.
- A dominant man will never send you a cock shot at first greeting and it is highly unlikely that he’ll have one on his profile.
- A dominant man will not beg you for naked photographs. In fact, he won’t beg for anything. He will simply wait till you’re dying to send him your naughty pictures unsolicited and accept them with lordly composure (or a rock hard-on, depending on the photo).
- A dominant man will never lie about being married or already having a girlfriend. If he’s married to vanilla, he’ll simply say so. If he’s dating vanilla, he’ll break up with her before venturing in with another (less he’s doing a poly thing and brings her along, or in an open relationship). The dominant guy is straightforward, will wish to be plain about his true desires and needs, and if he is attached, will be forthcoming with that information. If he’s cheating on his vanilla wife, he will say so. He made his choice and is going for it.
- A dominant man won’t lie about much, though he surely will keep some of his thoughts from you. A Dom who feels swallowing golden showers to be right up your alley may well know telling you straight out might have you running for cover. This is not in itself lying, he’s just taking the appropriate steps first and at the speed he thinks you can absorb them (he may well discard such thoughts as he gets to know you; he will discard his thoughts often). The lying ‘dom’ will have an agenda that has no bearing on your needs. The real dominant guy wants no part of someone for whom he cannot be good. A man who attempts to get with a woman he cannot handle or vice versa is desperate.
- A dominant man will not be heavy handed in his approach. He will be skilled at drawing you in, opening you up, making you feel at ease or on edge (depending on his tastes). His efforts will seem effortless; even aloof at times. He will grow on you. Capture you. Enlighten you and make things seem clear that may have been once blurry. You will feel better about yourself when communicating with him (even if your desire is to live in debasement!). Only an impostor will try to tear you down in order to raise himself to higher ground. The dominate gets off by watching you soar, not fall. In essence, taking on a submissive is both invigorating and empowering yet also a humbling experience. He may err constantly, particularly if he is new. Yet he will always, always strive to be better, and though longs and seeks challenge, he will avoid that which he knows he cannot handle, or will in some near future be unable to handle. It may take time but he will understand his own limits as well as his woman’s. A submissive is a truckload of challenge (ask their ex-vanilla lovers), and so the dominant man needs you like he needs air. He wants your worship not simply for worship sake but because he has gone beyond the call of the norm, ventured into the realm of risk, and passing across the dangerous abyss where footing is treacherous, hopefully breaks into the sunshine of success offering you something glorious. THAT alone is why he seeks your worship; because he has earned it and deserves it.
If a man does not seek risk and challenge in his life, if he wishes worship without venturing his ego, if he does not persist continually toward excellence in handling a woman as he does in many things, he is not a dominant man.
“I did not write this but it is excellent. I agree with just about ever word of it. Everyone can ALWAYS use enlightening words such as these so I must share them with my friends and followers. Dom or a sub, everyone should read this piece.”

glameowt  asked:

Could you please do the 2p axis and the 2p allies plus 2p romano and 2p prussia's reaction to their kid asking where babies come from

So I don’t write for 2p Romano unfortunately. I’m sorry. Though I have been reading and am willing to try writing for 2p Prussia. -Admin Jay

2p Canada: “Um…you just find them…and then keep em.”
Matt wouldn’t know how to explain it to a kid. He wouldn’t want to give them the truth, but coming up with a good lie would be a lot of effort and he knows he wouldn’t be able to answer all the “why”‘s that would follow it. So he would just think of something basic and stick with it. It would probably be the world’s worst lie and probably cause some problems down the road, but for now it was an answer and it was good enough for now.

2p France: “It’s when a man makes a mistake.”
Francois does not like children. So him having one is a horrible idea. Them asking about where they came from is worse. He would just sigh and take a long drink before explaining that when a man has a child, it means he made a mistake. He wouldn’t give the kid the truth or even a lie, that is too much effort. All they need to know is that it was a mistake on his part. 

2p America: “Soooo…it’s when a man and a woman get busy…and something goes wrong…”
Allen isn’t the best at telling the truth, and if his kid is asking about where babies come from he would immediately try to get them off topic. Though if they persisted, he would beat around the bush saying it means a man and a woman had a good time, but something went wrong along the way…he wouldn’t want to go into detail, but overall, he wouldn’t lie. He just would avoid the topic if he could since kids make him nervous and slightly uncomfortable. 

2p England: “Oh, well darling, babies are a magical gift from the Flying Bunnies!”
Oliver would never tell a child the truth about the birds and the bees, the thought alone makes him feel icky. So if his child asked, he would tell them the story of how the magical flying bunnies bring children to good homes. In his eyes, it wouldn’t be lying, it would be protecting them from the nasty things that exist in the world. So he would have this wonderful story all fabricated and ready to go, and that includes answers for any possible questions. Along with snacks, always snacks. 

2p China: “Babies? Sooo…they come from a woman who had a good time with a man.”
Zhao wouldn’t lie, but he wouldn’t give all the details. He would just skirt around the topic and explain that when a man and a woman have a good time, sometimes a baby happens. He wouldn’t want the kid asking too many questions. So if they kept it up after a while, he would just sigh and offer to take them somewhere just to shut them up. 

2p Russia: “You want to know? Then you will know.”
Viktor would sit his child down and give them the full story. If they want to know, then they shall know. The more they know, the better educated they are and the sooner they can focus on important issues. He would see no problem with the education, in fact, he would believe that if they can ask the questions, then they can handle the answers. 

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tbh,,, i will never understand the ant//is constant insistence that tony stark is a villain??? when he is canonically fucking written as a Hero,,,, and like,,yes he makes mistakes but they were mostly made with Good Intentions at heart,,, and yes he is flawed but that’s what makes him an actual Complex MultiFaceted 3Dimensional Character that a lot people can fucking relate to,,, he’s a character that makes mistakes and tries to fix them and actually takes Responsibility for his mistakes - he owns them. but his mistakes don’t stop him from trying to do Good. he doesn’t give up. he Always has the Protection Of Others on his mind in Everything He Does and Every Decision He Makes

yet the ant//is literally Twist Canon to support their Bullshit Narrative that he’s a villain,,, and they completely erase all the Good Selfless Things he’s done,,, the Personal Sacrifices He’s Made,,, while HyperFocusing on his Character Flaws and Amplifying them x1000000000

like,,, why??? what’s so hard about accepting the fact that a character that is canonically a hero isn’t Completely 100% Pure and Unproblematic??? (just like Every Single Other Character - Excluding The Perfect Cinnamon Roll That Is Peter Parker)

like,,, how are ya’ll so fucking outraged by the fact that This One Flawed Character exists yet completely Ignore Other Flawed Characters flaws???? how???

i’m baffled. confused. perplexed. vexed. puzzled. befuddled.