the trip from hell

costis in thick as thieves is so different from costis in king of attolia!! i love it!!! part of that’s a pov thing and part of it is that king of attolia is, like, ENTIRELY the story of costis getting manipulated and thrown off balance by eugenides, while thick as thieves is more like ‘costis successfully keeps kamet alive for 200 pages all by himself’

anonymous asked:

I have a question. Can you explain the adventure zone to me? Like what is it. Is it good?

Aaaa sorry for the late late late reply! The Adventure Zone is a dungeons and dragons/storytelling podcast ran by the Mcelroy brothers/dad. It’s a lot more storytelling than dnd, with the dnd stuff just serving as a basis for progressing the plot. 

The story itself follows the adventures of three dudes- Taako, Merle, and Magnus- and ends up leading them through some pretty awesome arcs and stories with a lot of depth and cool characters. Griffin, the DM of their game, is an incredible writer and tbh there hasn’t been an arc in this show that I haven’t loved. The genre of the show spans from standard medieval stuff to sci fi to a god damn gameshow and its all wonderful and amazing. 

Each episode is an hour long, and the series is broken up into different arcs.The first seven episodes can be a little bit boring for people who aren’t into standard DND stuff- it takes place in a pre-written story that griffin breaks away from after the first arc. After that first arc, though, the show gets SUPER SUPER good and fun and crazy and I seriously recommend sticking through the first arc or two!! This show is my favorite thing ever and really recommend listening to it!

anonymous asked:

A parent is threatening to pull her son out of my daycare program because I refuse to spank him. Her reasoning is I'll turn him into a pussy if I don't beat him when he misbehaves." Lady! He is 2 years old! I'm afraid that he is being abused at home. He doesn't come into the daycare with any visible bruising or marks so I don't think I can do anything about it :(

Omfg. Even if a parent spanks it is NOT the responsibility of a teacher to! My kindergarten teacher would spank kids for the most ridiculous reasons. Like I got a math question wrong or I colored my heart blue. She spanked me for those reasons! A kid used to cry because of the fear of being spanked during nap time. I remember holding his hand to calm him down so he wouldn’t be spanked for crying instead of sleeping. Some people go seriously overboard with spanking. It is irresponsible to ask a non-family member to do that. I won’t go beyond that into the argument against spanking because it would be a long and controversial debate. But I think we can all agree that it’s just really wrong to put it into the hands of someone you really don’t truly KNOW. I don’t even really like the idea of anyone punishing my kids without telling me why because I’ve heard some pretty ridiculous reasons why my son was excluded from recess or my daughter was banned from a field trip. Some people over react to high hell and I don’t think physical punishment should ever be involved. -Abby

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FANFIC RECS:
I tried to recommend the ones that haven’t been mentioned before, but if you see a repeat, that just means you must read it. The ones with a star ( ★ ) are the fics that I absolutely love and those that I’m keeping a close eye on because they’re sooo good  ♥  I put the list under the cut because it’s too long. Also, © means the fic is complete, (O) is for ongoing, and (1) is for oneshot. ENJOY!

PS: You might wonder - why ShisuixHinata? Well, just read the fics below to find out. I might be able to convert you *evil laughter*

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Can I Tell You a Secret?

Originally posted by imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl

 Word count: 835

 Requested by anon: Prompts, 81 and 99 for Paul lahote please!!

 Prompt: 81- “You touch her, I kill you.” and 99 “You act like you’re the bad boy, but you’re not.”


 For the third time today, Jason, the stupidest boy you could ever meet, tries to ask you out. He’s kinda cute, but has a mean heart, and that you can’t accept. As you walk out the Forks High School, you struggle to be polite with him despite everything.

 “Jason, I’m busy tonight, alright?” You’d keep walking but he gets in your way, forcing you to stop and look at him.

 “Busy again?”

 Taking a deep breath, you feel relieved when you spot that boy again, Paul Lahote, and his eyes meet you immediately. You still don’t know why he shows up every day, apparently just to talk or walk you home. At first, you thought he felt something for you, but after four months, you don’t really know what to think. But right now you couldn’t be happier to see him.

 “Oh, there’s my… friend! See you later, Jason.” Excusing yourself, you lock eyes with Paul and walk straight to him, hoping Jason isn’t following you.

 “Why is he bugging you again?” Paul keeps his distance, the hard look on his face, the same he always shows off.

 “He’ll get over it. Eventually.”

 “Want me to walk you home?” Paul inquires, but his eyes aren’t on you.

 “What?” You mutter as you turn around to see the idiot, approaching you with a mean grin. “Shit, Jason, what do you want?”

 “I want to understand. You’re not a big deal, (Y/N), and I’m trying to give you a chance but instead, you stick with this man who’s certainly full of pity for you.”

 You freeze, trying to put his words in order. For a second you feel like shit, looking down and stepping back. But then you feel it, the smallest of gesture that brings an unknown strength to you. Paul lightly touches the small of your back, holding you in your place.

 “You’re a jerk, Jason.”

 Half a second after you’re done talking, Jason grabs your arm violently making you moan in pain. But in the same moment, you see Paul moving and Jason lose his grip, being thrown away and falling on his butt, one hand on his nose. He’s bleeding nose. You pull Paul’s jacket until he stops yelling at Jason.

 “You touch her, I kill you!” Paul barks to a frightened Jason who’s trying to get away without tripping on his own feet. “Stay the hell away from (Y/N).”

 “Hey, c'mon.” You start walking away, tugging on his sleeve.

 The long way to your house is silent. You don’t know why he’s so quiet, but you won’t break the ice. There’s a light snow falling when you finally reach your front door. Turning on your heels to face Paul, you give him a small smile.

 “So, I’m-”

 “(Y/N), you can’t believe what that idiot said, alright?” He steps forward, getting closer. “Sorry to interrupt you, but you need to know this. You’re beautiful and any man would be lucky to have you.”

 You look down to your hands, hiding your blushed cheeks. But a smile is taking place in your lips. You don’t know why but you just feel insanely comfortable with him. When you finally get the courage to look into his eyes again, you notice that his ‘bad boy’ face is gone. Paul’s eyes are kind and loving. It makes you want to hug him.

 “Can I tell you a secret?” He nods and you tiptoe to whisper in his ear. “You act like you’re the bad boy, but you’re not.”

 The smile you see on his lips when you step back makes your world fall apart.

 “So, today it’s my turn to cook and I bet my mom will love to meet my knight in shining armour. Would you like to help me and then have dinner with us?” You take your keys off your pocket and unlock the door, gesturing for him to come in.

 “Sure. But I’m not a very good cooker.”

 “Are you saying yes? Because we’ve been talking for like three or four months and well, I don’t know why since you never said anything.” Bracing yourself from the cold, you turn on the lights and the heater, throwing your backpack on the couch.

 “Uhm, yeah. Let’s just say I like you and I truly need to be around you.” Paul’s low voice makes you stop in your tracks. By the look in his eyes, you don’t think he’s lying.

 “Well… You need?”

 “Yes. Someday maybe I’ll explain you. If you want me to.” He looks around, his gaze lingering on pictures of you and your mom. “Now, let’s make your mother a surprise.”

 “Great idea.” You smile at him, walking to the kitchen. “So, now you’ll actually ask me out or something?”

 “This could be our first date. Why don’t you tell me your story.”

 “Alright, Paul Lahote. But only if you tell me yours. All of it.” You start taking stuff out off your fridge, your eyes always meeting his.

 “Let’s get started then.”

anonymous asked:

Make something good out of 25 ;)

25. “If yeh don’t stop right now…”

In which Harry’s had enough of your attitude.


The past few weeks have been hectic for Harry, you know. He’s been working his ass off and spreading himself far too thin with all the traveling he’s been doing, the appearances, the performances, the interviews. Promo is hard, but it’s also hell for you.

Harry just got back from a trip late last night when you were already sound asleep. He slipped into bed next to you and whispered a “hullo, love,” peppering kissing over your cheek until you woke up just enough to greet him. Then the two of you cuddled up and dozed off together.

You’ve tried not to let the distance and lack of attention get to you, but you feel neglected. Now, you’ve woken up to an empty bed, his side a mess of rumpled sheets. You let out a deep sigh, getting up to look for your boyfriend. You find him a few minutes later, cooped up in his office with his laptop open and papers strewn across his desk.

“Harry,” you speak, voice still thick with sleep. “What are you doing?”

He turns to glance at you briefly and then spins back around to type out a response to an email.

“’M workin’, love. How’d yeh sleep?”

“Like shit.”

“Mmm, tha’s nice,” he responds distractedly, attention directed anywhere but toward you.

“Harry.”

He doesn’t even hear you this time. His fingers move slowly across the keyboard, eyes flickering between the keys and the screen. You’re trying not to be annoyed, really trying, but you can feel the frustration seeping through your body. Your fingers find the lightswitch, flicking it once, off and back on again.

Harry jerks his head to the ceiling before looking down at a few papers, licking his fingertips to sift through them.

“D’yeh need somethin’, love?”

You’re practically seething now, fist clenching at your side. He’s barely ever home, and when he is, he can’t even look at you? You understand how important his work is, but you’re important, too. And so you flick the lights again. And then again, and again, and again.

Harry stills his movements, shoulders tensing at your agitated actions. He takes a deep breath, waiting for you to stop, but you don’t. He wonders briefly why you’re acting like a child.

“’M tryin’ t’ work, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes, flipping the switch faster. The bulbs flicker like strobe lights, casting the room in shadow and then illuminating it faster than a blink of an eye. Harry clenches his jaw and twists a ring around on one of his fingers, spinning in his chair to face you.

“If yeh don’t stop right now, I’ll take yeh over m’knee.”

You freeze for a brief moment, the room immersed in darkness. Your heart jumps gently as you process his words. It wasn’t necessarily the attention you were looking for, but right now you’re not so picky. Your fingers flick the room back into light and you find Harry staring you down, pupils dilated and thumb tapping slowly against his thigh.

“Are yeh done, then?” he asks, raising a tempting eyebrow.

You chew on your lip before flicking the lights once more. Harry tilts his head and leans back in his chair, patting his leg.

“C’mere. Now.”

You hesitate for a second before padding across the room in your bare feet. Harry pulls you down when you reach him, draping your torso over his legs and rolling up your t-shirt. You’re bottom half is bare except for a pair of panties that he pushes down your thighs immediately.

“’S this what yeh wanted, pet?” he taunts, rubbing a hand over your bum. The metal of his rings leaves goosebumps on your skin, and he takes a moment to remove them, letting them clatter to his desk. “D’yeh want some attention? Always so needy.”

You hum softly, fingers gripping into the loose material of his sweatpants. He runs his fingernails gently over one cheek, sending a chill up your spine. You wait in suspense for him to hit you, and when he does, you gasp loudly.

“’S not nice t’ interrupt me,” he informs you, delivering another harsh smack to your already reddening flesh. You jolt forward, gritting your teeth to stay quiet.

“It’s not nice to ignore me,” you retaliate after a few moments.

“Hmmm.” The next slap echoes through the room and makes you let out a soft cry. Harry rubs gently over your sore skin and leans down to press a small kiss to your lower back. He helps you stand back up then, pecking you quickly on the lips.

“Yeh all right?” he asks softly. You nod in response, pulling your panties back up your legs. “’M sorry fo’ ignorin’ yeh. ’F yeh go wait fo’ me in the bedroom, I’ll be finished in a mo’.” He reaches out to grasp your hand and brings your fingers to his lips. “Or we could jus’ watch a movie or somethin’.”

You can’t help the small smile that rises on your lips. That’s all you wanted, to get him alone.

Il est entré dans mon cœur

Une part de bonheur

An identity reveal for @thepoetoftime ‘s birthday!! :3c 

(Image Stills Below the Cut)

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anonymous asked:

imagine dr flug trying to flirt

The poor guy is trying his best, he really is, but the moment he starts talking he trips over his words.

“Ahem…Did you, ah…did you fall from, Hell? No, oh shoot- Uh, from Heaven? Did you fall from Heaven, because…because, your. Uh, your ass is godly? Is that right?”

“H-hey- No, wait. Hey, baby, aren’t you out of…out of…uh…aren’t you tired? Because you’ve been on my- Hold on. You’ve been RUNNING through my mind…uh, all day!”

“Are you, uh…are you from Tennessee? Because, because…You’re the only Tennessee- no. The only, uh, ten I see?”

He really isn’t cut out for this kind of thing. Demencia tries to help once in a while, but just ends up laughing hysterically from how bad he is.

After a road trip from hell goes wrong, Alec is left stranded on the hwy with no way to get home. He’s in an unfamiliar area, and everything just seems to be going wrong all at once. Thankfully, a beautiful stranger in an wild looking car decides to stop and rescue Alec from his certain death.

Alec soon after decides, this is the best day of his entire life.

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(all fluff, no angst)

Fic 461: Mr. Ludwig

Had a request for some Heavy/Medic, so I took a little inspiration from the last comic. Enjoy!


“Mr. Ludwig. It’s been quite a while, hasn’t it?”

Medic didn’t look up. Instead, his mind was racing as he stared at the face that was reflected back up at him from the shined surface of his boots. How many times had he been here? How many times had he gotten away? It was getting so hard to keep track of such things these days.

“I must admit, you’re starting to become a little predictable.” The massive figure behind the wide executive desk adjusted a comically delicate pair of spectacles as the most Infernal of legal documents were shuffled between thick red fingers. “Another heart attack? And before this it was a stroke.”

Rolling his head up, Medic found himself locked eye to eye with the hellfire of… Hell.

Laying the papers down on the desk, the Devil removed his spectacles and set them aside. “Positively pedestrian, Mr. Ludwig. I would have thought with those extra souls at your disposal, there would have been at least an attempt at a final few blazes of glory.”

Medic almost managed to roll his eyes as the Devil chuckled. Humor down here always seemed to be less devilish and more hellish.

“Well, I am not quite as young as I used to be.” Medic gave as overly dramatic a sigh as he could manage. Each trip down here seemed to be more of a chore. “Age catches up with us all. I am only human, after all.”

The Devil nodded. “A human with eight additional souls.”

“Only two now.”

“Yes. Only two. And I do believe I have more than enough to claim my majority stake.”

“Ja. This is true.” Medic paused and smiled. “And yet, you have not.”

“Under the assumption that a little more hell would be raised in the meantime. You have borrowed time, Mr. Ludwig. Most men in your position would take advantage of that.”

Medic let out a snort. “I would wager there are very few men in my position.”

“Instead you spend it in a little village where the daily excitement is whether the new girl at the cafe is going to let the town know what day of the week it is when she bends over.” The Devil continued. “Not exactly up to your old standards of murder and mayhem.”

“Are lust and lechery not an acceptable replacement? I thought I had been doing quite well on that front.”

Yellow eyes narrowed and the earth trembled as the Devil leaned forward. “Lust does not come into it when love is involved.”

For the first time in any of their exchanges, Medic’s heart faltered. No, he supposed it wouldn’t. He had always known love would complicate things; it had simply never occurred to him that it would be in regard to his infernal bargain rather than, say, his finances.

“Two souls left, Mr. Ludwig. Two souls and then you are mine completely. No more chances. No ‘renegotiations’. I will have you here until Judgement Day, and I fully expect that with what’s on your ledger, I will keep you longer after that.”

“Is that all?” Medic sniffed. “I do believe I was enjoying a rather nice dream before I died.”

“Yes, that is all.” The Devil stood up and suddenly the world was completely ablaze.

Medic didn’t fight the flames as they licked and seared away his flesh. This wasn’t his first trip back from Hell.”

“And Mr. Ludwig, do try to make our next meeting a little more interesting.”


“Doktor!”

A hazy face blocked out the light as his eyes slowly opened. As he stared up another pair of eyes were focused on him with the same razor sharp intensity, but these were the color of Siberian ice. As feeling returned to his body, he felt two large hands gripping his shoulders and shaking as gently as a mountain could.

“Misha?”

He always hated coming back from these things. He always had a moment where nothing seemed quite real, and it was a crapshoot as to where the hallucinations ended and his own reality began. It took only a few moments to retain his bearings, he was getting depressingly good at this, and he was home - not Hell. Home. In bed. With Misha by his side.

“Was I having a nightmare?”

“You were cold, not breathing… Is not good, dorogoy.” Misha’s concern was plain. “You should see doctor. Let me call…”

“Liebe, I am a doctor.” Medic weakly grabbed Misha’s wrist and pulled him back down to bed. “Just because I am retired and unlicensed does not mean that I do not know what is best for me.”

“Please, Doktor.” Misha sighed as he smoothed back Medic’s hair. “I worry.”

He couldn’t help but smile despite his spiritual weariness. There was probably an irony in that the most perfect thing in his life was the one thing he hadn’t bargained to get, but he was long past the point of being overly concerned about that. What was important was that Misha was here with him, far from the battlefields of their youth, and bound to him in ways that the larger man couldn’t even begin to imagine. Or perhaps he did. Underestimating Misha’s mental abilities was a mistake made at one’s own peril.

Worry was still in those cool blue eyes, but Misha allowed himself to be pulled back down. Medic was almost fully back to himself, and would be better than ever with a few hours of sleep.

“I will go see that whelp of a doctor in the morning if it will make you feel better.” Medic relented as he nestled himself in the crook of Misha’s arm. “And I will let him and all of his fancy new equipment tell you that I am as healthy as a man half my age.”

Misha grunted, but Medic smiled as he felt some of the tension leave his body. Eventually his eyes drooped and his conscious mind once again drifted, this time to sleep as a large arm lay across his waist. It was impossible not to feel safe with that still giant bear of a man lying next to him. Worrying about him. Loving him. And of course he would. Misha always would. He was his perfect extra eighth soul. The one he would never relinquish.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would start his plan.

The Devil was always in the details, but that didn’t mean that he was the only one who could strike a bargain.