these are things that actually happen what are you girls even doing good lord in heaven

Why the SPN mixtape scene from 12x19 is screenwriting gold, and should be taught to the next generations of screenwriters everywhere - analysis

20 seconds. Two lines of dialogue, three gestures, a couple more camera angles. Episode 19, season 12 of a genre TV show “Supernatural”. A single strike of screenwriting and cinematic genius. The mixtape scene.

Robert Berens and Meredith Glynn, I bow before you.

This scene should be used as an example for future screenwriters how you can put maximum of meaning into minimal time and dialogue. Should be analyzed and taught at universities everywhere, how to achieve the most using the least. How to write for TV, where you only have less than an hour to built something spectacular.


Let’s just peel off all the layers of these 20 seconds of footage and these 13 words. 13 WORDS.

(Cas knocks, Dean doesn’t say anything. Cas opens the door, apologizes for disturbing Dean in his room, and then takes a cassette tape out of his left inside coat pocket, and puts it on the desk, while tapping the label on it that says “Deans (sic!) top 13 Zepp traxx”.)

Cas: Um, I just wanted to return this.

Dean: It’s a gift. You keep those.

13 tracks. 13 words. The future. So number thirteen is important for the future. I mean, are you trying to tell us something here, writers?

(Dean takes the tape, oustreches his arm, and gives it back to Cas. We see Cas’ hand grabbing the tape, and taking it back.)

That tiny scene is ENORMOUS from the perspective of the narrative and the characterization. Let’s see what we can get out of it. (Prepare yourself: it’s gonna be long. Damn, how much meta can you write based on 20 seconds of television and two lines of dialogue?) (Hint: A lot.)

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When you ask them to be rougher in bed (NSFW)

Originally posted by oohsehunnies


Junmyeon doesn’t strike me as a rough person, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t up for roleplay.  He’s definitely a roleplay kind of guy.  He’s a Daddy kink for sure.  He’ll he sweet and slow at first, but the second you mention being rough in bed, don’t be surprised by his change in demeanor.  This guy has a switch and that switch is costumes.  You want this guy to really give it to you?  Dress up for him.  He’s a gemini, so he’ll go both ways.  He’ll like it if you take control and get rough with him, too, so don’t forget that.  Just imagine for a second:  you’ve been dating for a little over five to six month, been sexually active with each other for maybe three and you just want to explore a different side of him.  He’s a shy one, so you know you have to approach this a certain way.  He gets back from a long tour away from you, tired as hell and just wanting to lay in your arms while sleep takes him.  Instead he walks into the bedroom to find you dress up in kinky nurses outfit, the doctor’s coat laying on the bed beside you.  Shock.  Shock, shock, shock.  But sooooo turned on.  All that tiredness?  Gone.  Boner?  Yup…He’ll probably stutter out a question, but if you pout and ask him for a check up, he’ll lose his mind, okay?  Off with the clothes!  The only thing he’s wearing tonight is a stethoscope and a white coat.  Explore with this because he’s totally into it.  This one will mark you up to high heaven simply because he’s so into his character.  I still think he’s a bit vanilla when it comes to positions, but that doesn’t take away from the experience as a whole.  Never underestimate this man.  Ever.  You will regret it. (well, maybe in the morning)  “Baby, you’ve been failing all my tests lately.  Do we need to have a tutoring session?  I’m sure there are some studying techniques I can share with you.”  (good god, not even my bias and damn,  Have FUN!)

Originally posted by xiaonancii96


Magic words anyone?  I feel like Minseok would be the type to be gentle with you at first.  Like he knows he’s a kinky af (he’s an Aries duh!), but he wouldn’t want to scare you off.  Your first few times together would be super sweet, loving, and just him pretty much worshiping your body.  You like it for sure, but you want to spice things up.  It almost feels too safe.  So when he comes home from work one day and is just getting out of a hot shower, towel around his waist, brush in hand, you pop the question on him.  To say he’d be surprised would be a total understatement.  He wouldn’t expect it at all.  But DAMN if he’s not immediately turned on.  This one is the type to zone out as the images of all the ways he could ravish you race through his mind.  So if you suddenly get nervous because of the silence and backtrack, he’s going to throw the brush on the counter and march his way over to you.  He’ll only ask you once if you are completely sure that’s what you want.  If you back down, he’ll be fine with it, but if you say yes PREPARE!!!!!  He’ll throw you on the bed, that cocked eyebrow look on his face, tongue running over his lower lip.  Intense!!  Minseok will still be sweet in certain respects, like he strikes me as someone who has a praise kink, so expect a lot of ‘that’s a good girl/boy, you take it so well’  ‘that’s right, just relax’  ‘you’re so good’ ‘ugh, you’re so gorgeous’.  Lots of moaning and grunting, quietly of course cuz he’s not a loud person.  I feel like when he’s being sweet he likes the missionary position because he wants to see your face while he’s pleasuring you, but when he’s rough, he wants you face down and grasping at anything while he takes you.  Expect marks, too!  Not where anyone can see them, but in places that only the two of you know.  It’s a reminder of who you belong to and how he’s the only one who can get you off a certain way.  “Oh, baby, I hope you don’t have anywhere to go tomorrow.  It’s going to be a looooong night.”

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Stuck with Me


Originally posted by bridget-malfoy-stilinski-hale

Sam x Reader (eventually)

Words: hair under 1,700

A/N: Once upon a time I had this little idea, next thing I know it turned into a multi-part monstrosity. It’s been in the works for a while now, and is pretty much done so I’ll be updating it on a pretty regular basis (probably twice a week). Thanks as per usual go out to my darling wifey Beka ( @impala-dreamer ) who has listened to me bang my head against the wall more than once and assured me I wasn’t bat shit crazy for putting this out there.  

P.S. this will shift POV’s periodically, hopefully it isn’t confusing (but please let me know if it is).

“Hey sweetheart. What’re you doing in here so late?”

“Hungry. AGAIN. And I swear I’m going to turn orange soon because carrots are the only thing I want to eat.”

“Well I’ll leave you to it, just came for some water. Don’t stay in here too late – that’s my niece you’re growing in there – you need your rest.”

“Goodnight. Dean.”

Dean shot up in bed, so confused by the dream he wasn’t really confident where he was.

What. In. The. Hell.

Dreaming about pretty girls wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary. Dreaming about pretty girls, pretty very-pregnant-carrot-eating-in-my-kitchen girls sure as shit was. Niece? Seriously. Did he drink last night? Wrong question. How much did he drink last night?

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Logged In - Part 5

Originally posted by sooper-dee-dooper-natural

Summary: Dean x Reader: Sam tells Dean and the reader about a new online community for hunters and they both scoff at him, but secretly use it and end up drawn to each other.

Word Count: 5407

Triggers: None really

Y/N = Your name Y/H/C = Your hair colour Y/E/C = Your eye colour

Note: Final part! I’m considering maybe doing an epilogue of sorts, where Dean and the Reader are no holds barred flirting over the chat, finding it hilarious that Sammy isn’t noticing what’s happening. Let me know if you’re interested in something like that!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4


Saying you spent the next few days in a daze was the biggest understatement this side of eternity. You barely even noticed time passing as you switched between regretting your choice and trying to figure out if your hunch was right. Neither of which had made any big impact on your decision nor made you truly certain that things were going to go the way you wanted them to. The only thing it had done was further develop your own personal brand of batshit crazy. Patent pending.

Hell, add the fear of a negative reaction into the mix and you were just a big ball of nerves. Which didn’t get any better once you actually scooted into the backseat of the ebony Impala and headed out for the long drive from Lebanon, Kansas to St. Louis, Missouri. Whoop-dee-fuckin-doo, a road trip with the man you loved who was possibly also the other man you loved was just what the doctor hadn’t prescribed.

You had over 7 hours where you couldn’t pace around and call yourself an idiot or fantasize about how the meeting would go down. Not really your idea of fun. Anything would be heaven compared to the hellish situation you found yourself in, a fist fight would feel like a day at the spa in comparison. Hell, if you made it through the drive there without imploding it would be a miracle. Like, one of those praise the lord and make it a public holiday type of miracles.

Your mind had been a mess of failed attempts and almosts since the meeting was decided. You’d almost gone online several times in the time between sending your last messages to J.T and actually leaving for the hunt. You’d almost asked Dean straight out if he was J.T. You’d almost faked being sick to get out of the hunt… Hell, you’d almost cancelled the whole damned meeting a thousand times!

Yet, you’d done none of those things, ‘cause lately “procrastinating to not make difficult choices” had become your weirdly long middle name. Instead your only actions had consisted of freaking out and stopping yourself just before gathering your courage to ask Dean, or opening your computer only to not log in to the website that was now a bigger strain on your nerves than anything else had ever been. Your childhood action hero figurines would be disappointed in you if they could see what an actionless adult you’d become. You could almost picture your worn out Wonder Woman figure shaking her head at you in disgust from the bookshelf in your childhood home.

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Dating Jaebum would include pt.3

I hope you guys prepared your thirsty butts like i told you to

• him giving you piggy backs when your feet hurt bc of your high heels
• he would sing you to sleep every night
• also sings his self composed songs for your birthday
• and on normal days
• basically every second
• because you’d love it
• you would dance to got7 choreos all the time when he is not around
• but one day he would come home earlier and see you in the kitchen while making dinner and dancing to ‘if you do’
• and he’d take a video
• and watch it everyday
• and just to show his members
• because he would be so proud of his girl
• bboy battle between you two
• and dance battles with Yugyeom
• with Jaebum cheering for you
• and craving for your body
• cuz he’d be about to drag you out of practise into an empty room to fuck you against a wall
• he would get hard just thinking about it
• but then he would cringe at your dab battle with Bambam
• and Bambam would dab so hard that he hit himself
• in his face
• and you couldn’t stop laughing
• derp face battle with Jackson
• selca battle with Youngjae
• who-can-shut-up-longer battle with Mark
• but you would lose
• i mean
• we’re talking about Mark
• and then you’d do an aegyo battle with him instead
• savage battle with Jinyoung
• staying late at the dorm with the boys and you just giving attention to Coco
• pouty Jaebum
• Jaebum trying to get your attention by taking off his shirt
• and you would stare at his abs
• and he’d smirk at you
• but you would continue to cuddle with Coco
• so he would just give up
• but when you guys go to bed you would walk into his room seeing him lying on the bed
• “You’re not jealous of Coco are you~”
• then you’d plop down on the bed after stripping out of your clothes and spooning him from behind
• “no”
• “of course you are Jaebumie~”
• so you would try to sweet talk him with aegyo
• and it would actually work when he turned around to face you
• and sees that you didn’t wear anything
• he would show you how jealous he is for not giving him attention but a dog by fucking you
• that everyone knows who you belong to
• even Coco lol
• and his members
• so Bambam and Jackson would tease him the next day about getting jealous of a fucking dog
• and they would snicker about you screaming ‘daddy’ all night long
• so you would kick their asses
• casual park dates
• with him wearing sunglasses
• and a cap
• and a mask
• just low-key af
• he would tease you sexually when you’re on your period
• and you going insane about it
• so you would suck him and leave him on the edge before he cums walking to the living room to watch some netflix
• with him following you
• “baby, don’t do this”
• “that’s your own fault for teasing me. but you propably know how to use your left hand.”
• “come on baby girl. you know exactly that your pretty little mouth is better than my hand!”
• “your loss.”
• so his eyes would darken and he would walk in front of you
• “you know what happens to disobedient girls who won’t listen to their daddy?~”
• then he would push you down the couch and hover over you
• “They get punished”
• and then he’d continue the teasing until you suck him off properly
• “just keep in your mind that i will fuck you against every corner of this apartment when you get off your period”
• “you wouldn’t”
• “try me princess”
• and guess what
• he would keep his promise
• bc he’s a fuckboy
• and fuckboys do things like that
• but he would propably cuddle you after that steamy session
• wait no
• he would definetely cuddle you
• bc remember pt.2?
• he’d be the best cuddle buddy in the whole goddamn world ♡

good lord why did i even made this jaebum would include thing. im criyng i really luv it

Originally posted by amerthaikong

anonymous asked:

Loved the ideal spouses post! Can you do the other lords: Nobunaga, Hideyoshi, Saizo, Mitsunari and Ieyasu, pretty please? <3

ok the last one was cute so ofc i can do another one 

Nobunaga’s Wife:

  • rly hot??? 10/10 a+++ would make out with she’s gorgeous
  • Runaway Princess Trope except she dressed up as a man and made friendly with the whole oda clan
    • didn’t get to keep it up bc the day of her arranged marriage w/ nobu came and she got found out immediately by her family in attendance
  • an even bigger Sinner than nobu and he hates it bc she flusters him so much all the time
    • like he tries to flirt but she just flirts better??? whispers in his ear and shit and he’s Dead
  • More Popular With Girls and hideyoshi and toshiie are salty abt it
  • dramatic ass ho but that’s ok bc so is nobu
  • has to console nobu bc he sulks at her a lot and ends up spoiling him like a cat draped across her lap or something
  • probably more fashionable than u also Red Lipstick Aesthetic

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I just finished Howl’s Moving Castle and oh god guys I have so many feelings about this book

I could go on and on about how wise and funny and wonderful it is (and I might, at some point, but I’m sure people infinitely more eloquent than me have already shared their thoughts) but right now I need to talk about Sophie and Howl because HOW I LOVE THEM

Probably my ultimate weakness is those couples that you don’t see coming, the ones that sneak up on you. The problem with couples that are obviously endgame from the first is that (although there are some that are well written) the majority just end up being dull. When you know from the very first scene that two people are going to get together, there’s nothing to root for.  

When it comes to my OTPs, I need to be caught off guard. I need to fall in love with them slowly, even as they fall in love with each other.

And that’s where I think Howl’s Moving Castle shines. I watched the movie before I read the book, so I knew how it ends, but I really do believe that anyone who hadn’t already seen the film could make it through at least half the book without thinking, well, Howl and Sophie are definitely endgame. Their relationship up till then is a thing of beauty in and of itself, even without the factor of romance.

And, oh, god. Don’t even get me started on the snark. I adore snarky couples in any and every permutation. I read them. I watch them. I write them. When I die, bury me in wryly sarcastic OTPs. 

(Note that there is a world of difference between snarky and cruel. I do not need or want couples who are terrible to each other, but OTPs who bat conversation back and forth between them like a ping-pong ball, who keep each other on their toes - ah, they are my catnip and kryptonite. See also: Jeff/Annie, Merlin/Arthur)

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Ramsay x Reader Imagine

[Imagine: Ramsay, your childhood friend, takes you to his castle after the war begins, fearing for your safety. You are the only person he has ever truly loved and you love him for the way he treats you but you know what Ramsay is like towards others] / smut

Winterfell is not what is used to be like anymore. You remember it from some of your earliest memories when your father showed it to you when you were a little girl. Your father is dead by now, killed in the war. 
However, Winterfell is a ruin now and the Starks can no longer call it their home. “What have you done here?”, you ask Ramsay, who rides next to you.
“This is a war, (Y/N)”, he says. “This is what castles look like in a war.”
You know what Ramsay did. What his father did. But you thank the Gods that he did not forget about you, ever, found you, and saved you.
As you get closer to the castle, you smell an awful smell and before you can wonder where it might come from, you see it: Skinned people, hanging there like on the Bolton’s banner.
You close your eyes. You know exactly that is was Ramsay who did this.
Trying to hide the fear in your eyes you look at him. “Who are they?”, you ask him.
“Stark loyalists. They begged me for mercy and when I was about to grant them mercy they begged me to kill them. It was easier than I thought it would be.”, Ramsay answers and smiles at you.
You don’t say a word. He had something cruel about him ever since you knew him, even as a child. But he never harmed you. Instead, he protected you from the kids who tried to harm you. And then their little bodies were found in the woods, their skin pealed off. 
You always knew what Ramsay is capable of. And you’re scared of him because of that. But now that you have no one else left, you trust in the Gods that it may stay like this, that Ramsay may never hurt you, that his intentions with you are pure.
“You’ll be safe here, (Y/N)”, he says to you as you enter the gates. “You may call it your home.”
You nod. You never felt more like a stranger than in these walls. It’s like you’re an invader, like the dead Starks are watching you with their rotten eyes.
The thought of it makes you shiver.
Ramsay helps you off your horse and gives your bags to a servant.
“Bring them to the Lady’s chamber.”, he tells him.
You smile at the man and whisper “Thank you” as he takes your bags.
“No need to thank them, (Y/N). He’s my servant, he’s doing what I told him to.”, Ramsay says roughly.
“Well, my bags are heavy and there are many staircases in this castle. A little kindness might brighten up his day, I thought.”, you say softly and look up the the destroyed towers of Winterfell.
The terrible smell of death and rotting bodies is in the air and some parts of the castle are burnt. 
“Let us go inside.”, Ramsay says and you look at him again.
He takes your arm and you go inside. On your way you realize how frightened everyone is of him. When he walk in, people don’t dare to look at him.
A little girl in the hallway drops a wet towel as you walk by.
Ramsay stands still and stares at her. You can feel the girl’s fear.
“Leave her.”, you whisper to him. “Leave her, these things happen, she can dry the floor.”
He looks at you again and starts walking again. “It seems to me like everyone here is scared of you.”, you say as you enter Ramsay’s rooms.
He takes off your coat. “That is none of your business.”
You know it’s better to shut your mouth now. 
“I hope you enjoy your stay.”, he says and you sit down. “If something doesn’t please you, tell me about it.”
After a while of silence you say: “I thought you had forgotten about me.”
He smiles. This smile makes your stomach tingle.
‘What a stupid, naive girl you are’, you think. 
“Never.”, he says. “Nothing has changed.”
You remember how he kissed you when you were 14. It was the days his father took Ramsay with him.
You feel like there is so much to say but you don’t dare to. Seeing who Ramsay is, what he does, keeps you quiet.

The next morning you decide to walk around the castle. You imagine what it must have been like when the starks were still alive. You had always respected them but now you have to be quiet about that.
Times have changed.
Down in the court you see a little girl rope skipping. It’s the same girl that dropped the towel the day before.
You go to her. “What is your name?”, you ask her.
“Ellys.”, she answers.
“Hello, Ellys. I am (Y/N).”, you say and smile at her. As she smiles back at you you see that almost all of her teeth have fallen out.
You end up rope skipping with her. She is so cute and she tells you that her father works for the Boltons. 
“(Y/N)!”, you suddenly hear Ramsays voice yelling. It scared the hell out of you and you turn around.
But Ramsay just walks past you and grabs the little girl.
“Ramsay, no!”, you scream and try to hold him back.
“You don’t talk to her and you don’t touch her, do you want to see what -”
Ramsay seems like he completely lost his mind.
“LEAVE HER!”, you scream on top of your lungs and he stops.
Ellys uses the opportunity to run away.
“These people are dirt!”, Ramsay says to you.
“These people are terrified of you and now I understand why. I am terrified of you, too. You’re a monster, Ramsay.”, you whisper with tears in your eyes, scared for your life.
“What do you want me to do?”, he asks and your clearly hear the aggression in his voice.
“Stop hurting people for no reason but your own amusement.”, you say and as you want to walk away, he grabs your wrist.
You close your eyes.
“I want to show you something.”, he says softly.
“What is it?”, you ask quietly. You cannot even tell whether he wants to hurt you or not. His face doesn’t say anything about his intentions.
“You’ll see.”, Ramsay says and smiles. This time his smile causes you nothing but fear.
“H-have I - angered you?”, you stutter.
He comes closer and kisses you. “You’re afraid?”
You nod.
“I would never hurt you, (Y/N).”, he says. 
You know that you actually have no choice than to follow him - and so you do so.
He takes your hand and takes you to a small hat where you hear dogs barking.
You know about Ramsay’s hunting hobby.
“Are you crying?”, he asks you and his voice got even softer.
“Please, don’t hurt me.”, you whisper, struggling to keep your voice steady.
“Love, I’m not going to hurt you.”, Ramsay says and takes you to one of the smaller spaces inside the hat.
You see something sitting in there, you can hear it breathing.
“This is…Reek.”, he says proudly. 
In this moment you realize that there is a human sitting inside. 
“Who is that - Ramsay?”, you ask, out of breath.
“Reek.”, he repeats and gets excited.
You see that ‘Reek’ has not enough fingers or skin on his body and his face looks empty, as if he was dead.
“What have you done to him?”, you ask, crying. “What has he done to deserve that?”
“I played with him!”, Ramsay says. “He has done nothing. My torture happened for absolutely no reason. It was fun, just for fun.”
You take some steps away from him.
Then you walk away.

You hate yourself for still having feelings for Ramsay.
The past days he made you many presents and treated you like a queen. You rode out and spend most of the time with him.
After all, he was still your friend. Your childhood friend, yet a psychopath. 
But he never hurt you.
The village where you had lived before was burnt down by southern troops and you realized that Ramsay actually saved your life.
“I scare you.”, Ramsay says as you sit in his chamber, having dinner with him.
“No.”, you say. “I’m only scared of your deeds. I realize how you are so different to me than you are to others. You have always been like this.”
He sighs. “I showed you Reek to show you who I am. So you don’t get false impressions - we haven’t seen each other for years now.”
“What does it give you? Hurting people?”, you ask him.
“Satisfaction.”, is Ramsay’s answer. “It feels like justice, it satisfies me.”

“Do you love me, Ramsay?”, you ask him after a while of silence. 
“I always have.”, he says. “Every day, ever since I met you.”
“Would you do anything for me?”, you ask.
“You want me to stop.”, he says and you cannot recognize the sound of his voice.
“I want you to know that well treated servants are more likely to be loyal towards their Lord. I want you to stop hurting these people, stop scaring them because it hurts and scares me, too.”, you explain.
Suddenly his facial expression becomes softer than you thought he was capeable of.
“Do you love me, (Y/N)?”, he asks you and gets up to come to you.
“Yes.”, you say and get up, too.
‘How can a single person be so naive?’, you ask yourself.
Suddenly you feel his lips on yours, harder than ever before.
But you push him away.
“Promise me you’ll try to change.”, you beg him.
“I swear it.”, he says. “I want to be good for you.”
You cannot believe him yet but nevertheless you let him kiss you again, lay you on the bed.
“Ramsay, no.”, you whisper, breathlessly.
You feel where this will lead to. 
“You’re still pure.”, he says, it’s not even a question.
You stare into his eyes, breathing heavily. They’re blue and cold like the sky in winter.
Then he kisses you again and suddenly you feel his hand between your thighs.
It’s good.
You would ask him to stop but you actually don’t want to. You enjoy his touch.
Never had a man touched you before, you are nervous.
“Spread your legs.”, Ramsay whispers into your ear as he kisses it.
“Ramsay, no -”, you moan quietly.
With one move he spreads your legs and you let him. 
He touches your inner thighs first and then moves on. His fingers on your sex feel like heaven. It makes you forget the things you know about this man.
“No, please,”, you moan between the kisses.
“Tell me you want me to stop.”, Ramsay says and looks deep into your eyes.
You don’t say a word.
He undresses you really quickly. You feel weird lying there, naked in front of his eyes.
But this is what you want. It feels as though you always wanted it.
“Spread your legs for me, love.”, he says and you do it.
This time he sticks his fingers inside of you. Only a little bit and it doesn’t hurt.
When he starts treating your sex with his tongue you feel nothing but pleasure.
You grab his hair and pull it, these dark curls. Moaning, screaming his name.
He stops and looks at you again.
“Are you ready?”, he asks you.
You nod. 
Ramsay kisses your breasts and plays with them, kisses them, kisses you.
Then you feel his sex on yours, moving. 
“I can’t promise you that it’s not going to hurt.”, he whispers. “But the pain will be pleasure soon after.”
You wrap your arms around his neck.
He sticks it inside of you and you want to say “Stop”, because it hurts you but he does it too quickly.
You scream a little, closing your eyes. He’s too big, you think. 
Ramsay doesn’t move. He just keeps kissing your lips.
“Get it out”, you say. “Please.”
“Wait, just a minute.”, Ramsay whispers.
You can feel his fingers rubbing your sex again but he won’t get out of you.
Ramsay starts moving, very softly. It feels strange but it doesn’t really hurt anymore.
“What did I tell you?”, he says, smiling mischievously at you.
It doesn’t take much time until he gets rough. But he was right, the pain turned into pleasure. You can’t get enough of it, enough of him.
“You’re so tight, I -”, Ramsay moans. “I think I can’t do this much longer.”
You moan his name, over and over again.
One last stroke - and the world turns around. You cum.
“Ramsay!”, you scream and in that very moment he pulls out of you, moaning.
But it’s too late.
He kisses you before you can say anything.
You can feel his cum running down your legs.
“It doesn’t matter.”, he says. “It doesn’t matter, we’ll get you some moon tea.”

How to Be a Good Catholic, Pt. II (Sonny Carisi x Reader)

A/N: Part 2 of my self-drag piece aka The Reason I’m Going to Hell! I’m sure I had more to say here but it is literally about to be 6AM~

@ohbelieveyoume and @xemopeachx (to the latter: Lower your expectations. Like, lower them so deep Satan’s demanding to know why you’re in his house and threatening to call the police on you.)


5.     Remember not to eat meat on Fridays during Lent

It was amazing how cravings worked: You could be perfectly fine, not want to eat anything in particular and just eat whatever simply because you needed nourishment to keep getting through the day. But the moment you’re told you can’t eat a certain something, no matter how often you may or may not eat it, it suddenly becomes all you can think about. That was what made Lent maddening for you as a child. It was as though the season held special powers beyond serving as a countdown for your lord and savior basically becoming a zombie: It could make you crave cafeteria nuggets like a junkie craved a fix. But considering that said zombie-savior got beaten, nailed to a cross, and was forced to wear a crown of thorns for you, abstaining from meat a couple of Fridays for 40 days was the least you could do besides doing nothing at all.  

… But Zombie Jesus, it was so hard. In your youth, it was a bit easier because your packed lunches would always be checked over by your mom or dad to assure that it was up to Lenten approval. Sure, there was the occasional slip where you’d stop by the convenience store after school for a quick snack and all too eagerly buy a Slim Jim (was that even meat?). But for the most part, you did your due diligence as a good Catholic girl. Unfortunately, you were now a Catholic woman whose mommy and daddy’s involvement, at most, would maybe occasionally happen to call on Friday just to chat and then happen to mention what that day’s meatless meal had been. This, without fail, would always cause you to grit your teeth on the strip of bacon you’d been eating or lead you to utter an expletive muffled by the pepperoni Hot Pocket you’d microwaved to avoid cooking.

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glowdroid  asked:

voltron squad's fav overwatch characters/heroes they always play as? *eyebrow waggle*

oh my god how dare u strike me at my weak points

  • Shiro’s FAVE character is Soldier: 76 because… they r the same… Both have white hair from stress/trauma, are the so called ‘dad’ of the team, and just want their team to stay on the payload for the love of god please stay on the payload. Lance, stop running off. Shiro is Inspired by Soldier: 76 and works with Pidge on building a portable biotic field bc lord knows this team needs it.
    • Shiro also really likes Zarya because whenever Shiro sees a Strong Girl he’s like :o!!!!!!!!!!!!! neat.
    • Another fave of Shiro is Reinhardt because of the shield. Shiro is the person to say over the mic ‘okay i’m taking out my shield everyone group up behind me!!!!!!’ he’s very sweet. If a D.Va uses their ult Shiro is the Reinhardt player who takes one for the team and charges towards the nuke, tackling it and pinning it like a live grenade. After watching Shiro die for their sins, his team usually finds the inner determination to win the match.
  • Pidge looks at D.Va and is like #relatable. Also ngl Pidge has the biggest crush on D.Va’s mech that no one can ever know about except everyone knows abt it because Pidge always screams when their mecha is destroyed. “Nerf this!” Is also the best ultimate quote in Pidge’s not so humble opinion. Pidge resents the gremlin D.Va meme because it strikes too close to home (Pidge is also a gamer gremlin)
    • Pidge also plays as Bastion because Pidge is a fucking troll and hates their friends lol
    • Pidge also LOVES Junkrat they basically made this video. Pidge thrives off of mayhem and explosions, Junkrat is one of their faves. They’re probably split 50/50 for Junkrat and D.Va
  • Lance basically LIVES for the Play of the Game but he never. Gets it. Actually, that’s a lie; Lance got the potg ONCE. He got basically a team kill and while he was busy emoting some random goddamn Mercy came along and did a mass res and Lance immediately died. His potg captured this entire moment. The memory flashes before his eyes every night as he goes to bed.
    • I feel like Lance would switch a lot between heroes? I think Lance has a really flexible way of playing; if he’s not distracted, he’s one of the rare few people who actually listen to the team tips and choose a character based on that. I bet Lance really wanted to be a Genji Pro but he’s… not.
    • I think Lance would really like playing as Lucio and Tracer, they’re probably his favorite heroes. Lance also loves Pharah but he has never managed to successfully complete her ult without getting sniped out of the sky. Lance would play as Mei so he could make Frozen jokes and also out of #ice power solidarity. 
  • At first Keith hated Overwatch because every time he played everyone would bully him into playing Reaper. Keith doesn’t mind Reaper he just?? Doesn’t understand why everyone keeps forcing him to play as Reaper?? Eventually Keith managed to break free and discovered his One True Love in Genji. Genji wields a sword, it’s a match made in heaven c’mon. Also Keith is enamored w the backstory of the Hamada brothers and is probably coming up with theories about what happened nonstop with Pidge/Lance.
    • Keith never stays on the goddamn payload.
    • Tbh Keith would only ever play offense characters, look at him, he’s the definition of offense.
  • Hunk LOVES Winston he finds the peanut butter love #relatable and also Winston is so fun?? Hunk loves jumping around he’s an ape that’s so wild video games are amazing. Plus, Winston’s shield is like IDEAL for Hunk because he can sometimes be kind of a wimp when it comes to getting hurt even though Winston is a tank c’mon Hunk.
    • Hunk would either be really good or really bad at Roadhog I haven’t decided yet. Hunk totally abuses that self-heal button though lol
    • Hunk’s favorite support character is Zenyatta bc tbh Zenyatta is chill as hell and Hunk aspires to be him. Also, robots.
    • Hunk also likes Torbjorn because of the whole building turrets things. But Hunk is kind of bad at playing Torbjorn, but he always gets play of the game so Hunk keeps using him. Hunk is the kind of Torbjorn player who dies in the middle of their potg but keeps racking up a kill streak thanks to their turret lol. Lance is PISSED.
  • Allura doesn’t really do video games but she can be competitive so she usually picks the characters that no one else chooses. She really likes McCree because she thinks his voice is so wild, ‘Do some humans really speak like this?’, also she thinks his cowboy hat is adorable.
    • She’s also really intrigued by Hanzo’s dragons and she’s scarily accurate with them. The first time Allura ever got potg she printed out a screenshot and put it on the fridge. Everyone was very proud of her.
    • Allura also loves Symmetra because of the parallel between the teleporters and Allura’s wormholes like damn!!! I can do that too!! Also Allura thinks Symmetra is beautiful (because she is) and is deadset on unlocking all the skins. Plus, Symmetra’s turrets are WILD when setup correctly lol. Allura sets them up correctly.
  • Coran is like DEADLY accurate when it comes to playing Widowmaker. His aim is ridiculously good. However Coran cannot figure out how to use Widowmaker’s grappling hook for the life of him so if you ever watch him play, Coran usually spends half the game just trying to figure out how to get to a good position using only stairs and the jump key.
    • Coran is also the DEFINITION of the tired and disappointed Mercy player. ‘I can’t help you guys if you keep running off!!’ ‘Guys, guys, guys, I’m being shot at- I’m being shot at- oh I’m dead now. Thanks.’
    • Bitter™
All of me


When you cried, I’d wipe away all of your tears. When you’d scream, I’d fight away all of your fears.

“Actually, it’s pretty fucking simple,” your words were wrapped with bitterness, “It’s a yes or no.”

Castiel looked at right, almost like he was seeing you for the first time.You were so raw and beautiful, it was hard for him to directly at you. So his blue eyes pulled down to look at the ground, his black dress shoes shined from the ceiling light.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t love you. Nor will I ever,” he firmly responded, regretting every word that fell through his lips. He wanted to love you, needed to. His body ached for you in ways he never experienced. You were the light at the end of the tunnel, the hope he had clung to when Heaven was being torn apart.

“Do you really mean that?” You whispered, using all your self strength to keep from crying.

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Hot Buttered Rum

I know I rarely venture outside of my Dragon Age ficcing den, but since I’m full of feelings after my Sleepy Hollow binge ended in That Finale That Totally Didn’t Happen, now some just-AU-enough Ichabbie is happening.

Pairing: Ichabod/Abbie
Rating: verges into slightly NSFW territory
Summary: A cold night in gets significantly warmer after a couple of drinks. Or, more specifically: Netflix and “whoops, making out like horny teenagers on the couch.”

Alright, so the Netflix subscription was actually a pretty good investment. Abbie’s never been a huge TV watcher, but there are worse ways to spend a frigid Saturday night when the world’s not ending for a change than a Crockpot full of hot buttered rum and introducing Crane to the concept of binge-watching.

“That is not what happened,” Crane sniffs for what must be the fortieth time, and okay, maybe Abbie picked Turn because she gets a kick out of drunk Crane’s Very Strong Opinions about anything set in the Revolutionary era.

And he is drunk. Abbie’s already pretty tipsy nursing her second mug, but that sweet tooth of his has Crane on his fifth or sixth serving, and the man does not half-ass his cocktail mixing. Abbie warned him about giving himself a hangover, but after getting the customary response of “Something something Benjamin Franklin something,” decided not to push the issue.

“You should write them a letter,” she says, valiantly fighting off a fit of giggles as she rests her head on his shoulder. She’s not entirely sure when they got into this position–side by side on the couch, one of her legs slung haphazardly over his lap–but it’s comfortable, and he’s warm, and she’s not moving.

“I should. Your generation’s ignorance of events that transpired a mere two centuries ago is utterly appalling.”

“Well, you know. Pics or it didn’t happen.”

“My comrades-in-arms cannot reasonably be held accountable for a lack of photography equipment,” Crane mutters, and Abbie snorts into her mug as he launches into one of those big Crane-speeches about modern technology, and she’s not really paying attention to the words because, lord, this drink is stronger than it tastes, but the low rumble of his voice makes her feel all cozy inside, so she’s not complaining. “–And this,” he finishes at last, the words coming out just a little slurred as he brings his mug to his lips with a grandiose flourish, “is very good rum.”

Abbie laughs as his victory sip leaves foam clinging to his moustache. “I can see that. You’re wearing it.” She reaches up to swipe away the sticky-sweet mess with the pad of her thumb, and swallows hard when Crane, in his relentless pursuit of sugar, catches her thumb between his lips and sucks it clean.

Abbie laughs shakily, some half-hearted crack about diabetes dying on her tongue as Crane envelops her hand with his own, interlacing their fingers as he flattens her palm against his drink-warmed cheek.

“Lieutenant,” he sighs, closing his eyes like a happy cat. “It has been my greatest blessing that our paths were fated to be entwined.”

“Crane,” she answers, squirming in her seat as Crane, who is apparently a very flirty drunk, turns his head to kiss her palm. “I think that’s enough rum for you, my man.”

He hums softly, pressing another kiss to her palm, and Abbie isn’t sure if he didn’t hear her or is just too far gone to register what she said, because he continues, punctuating every other word with soft kisses from her wrist to her fingertips, “My life before, whatever joy I felt, is but a pale shadow of what I have now. What you have brought me. No words can adequately express the depths of my gratitude that you but live.”

Abbie licks her lips. “I bet you say that to all the girls,” she jokes weakly, and God, he’s made those eyes at her before, and it’s always gotten her a little hot and bothered, but she’s always been able to write it off as something else, which is a lot harder to do when he’s this close and kissing her hand like that.

“There is no woman in Heaven or on Earth who is your equal, Grace Abigail Mills,” Crane says with such fierce sincerity that Abbie can’t breathe as he cups her cheek (and is it weird to think someone’s hands are sexy, because she’s had elaborate freaking daydreams about Crane’s hands), and she’s not really sure how they get from Point A to Point B, but the next thing she knows Crane’s lips are pressed against hers.

The kiss is soft and tender; more chaste and less demanding than any she’s ever received, and yet somehow it sets her body on fire as no other has. Her fingers wind themselves into the front of Crane’s shirt, holding him close, desperate to prolong this perfect moment between them.

But it ends, as all moments do. Crane pulls away slightly, his eyes still half-closed, his hands still framing her face.

This was a mistake. Abbie knows that. This role, this mission of theirs is too important to jeopardize by falling in love, she tells herself, even though she knows in her heart that that ship has long since sailed.

“Crane,” she begins. We can’t. It’s not right. It’s too risky, she wants to say, but the words won’t come. “Oh, fuck it,” she says, sinking her fingers into his hair and pulling him in for another kiss.

He accepts it eagerly, his mouth slanting against hers, moaning softly as she sucks his bottom lip between her own. He pulls her to straddle his lap (God, he’s so much bigger than she is), one arm around her waist, pinning her to his chest as he gently–politely, Abbie thinks, almost laughing–traces his tongue along the seam of her lips.

She parts her lips for him, both of them sighing as they deepen the kiss.

This… this has been building up for a while, Abbie admits to herself as whimpers and mewls and girlier sounds than she’d ever believed herself capable of bubble up from her chest while Crane nips and suckles at her lips. She has no idea how long they’ve wanted this. Needed this. Maybe it’s been months, maybe it’s been years; hell, maybe some part of them started wanting it the day they met. Abbie doesn’t know, and she doesn’t care, because they’re here, they’re together, they’re both a little drunk, and she loves him–she loves him–and nothing can take this away from them.

His beard tickles her as she trails kisses, licks, and gentle bites along his jaw and down to his neck. Her lips find the pulse going crazy in his throat and she sucks, drawing a moan out of him that she’s pretty sure will have ruined her panties if those little nibbles he’s been giving her ear haven’t already done the trick. “God, Crane,” she breathes, feeling him shudder as she rakes her teeth over his neck.

“Lieutenant,” he groans, suckling her earlobe as one hand softly–reverently–grips her ass. “I’m afraid I find myself in something of a predicament, for at this moment I am quite ardently inclined to take you to bed.”

Abbie shivers, heat coiling low in her belly as her rum- and kiss-addled brain registers the impressive bulge pressing intimately against her. “Kinda sounds like the opposite of a predicament, Crane,” she says, nipping sharply at his neck, and maybe this is a little fast, but it’s taken them actual centuries to find each other, so what the hell? “You want to take this upstairs?”

She hears Crane swallow.

“We are unwed,” he says. “It would be most improper.”

Abbie chuckles, licking her way back up his neck. “That’s a little funny coming from a guy who’s still grabbing my ass.”

Crane pulls his hand away like he’s been burned, and Abbie howls. “Be that as it may,” he says primly, “before we consummate this relationship, I should very much like to–in the words of your generation–’put a ring on it.’”

Abbie’s laughter dies abruptly.

God in Heaven, did that boy just propose?

She pulls back, staring into his face for any hint of humor, and finds none. Her hands begin to tremble where they clutch him. “Swear to God, Crane, if you’re messing with me for a Green Card, I’m kicking your ass.”

The corners of his mouth twitch slightly, his eyes locked on hers as his tongue darts out to moisten his lips. “Then it would appear, Lieutenant, that my arse is quite safe.” He clears his throat. “I will understand, of course, if you are not amenable to the suggestion. We have, after all, had nothing resembling a proper courtship, and–”

Abbie kisses him soundly.

Abbie wakes suddenly the next morning.

It takes her a good thirty seconds to realize she’s not in her bedroom, and at least another thirty to realize that she’s actually laying on the couch. Correction: she’s laying on Crane, who is laying on the couch. Her cheeks flush as the memory of the previous night comes rushing back. She sneaks a glance up at Crane’s face, finding him awake and just as flushed.




“Hey guys,” Jenny calls from the hallway (the door must have woken them, Abbie realizes belatedly), and both of them freeze as her footsteps draw closer. “I think those pumpkin donuts you like are seasonal, Crane, so instead I got…” Jenny’s voice trails off as she enters the living room.

Slowly, and with a profound sense of dread, Abbie peeks over the back of the couch.

Jenny is standing just inside the doorway, a box of donuts in her hand, one eyebrow cocked and a smirk tugging at her lips, and Abbie is acutely aware of exactly how bad this looks.

She and Crane speak at once.

“So, what happened was–”

“If you would permit me to offer an explanation–”

Jenny holds up her hand. “Guys. Seriously? Literally everyone saw this coming. Just embrace it.” She turns on her heel. “I’ll get brunch started,” she calls as she strides from the room.

Abbie lets out a breath and begins to slump down, then pauses when she remembers that to do so would put her right back on top of Crane, and scoots to the far end of the couch instead. He sits up as well, and Abbie nearly groans when the morning sun reveals several hickeys on his neck and chest. Lovely.

Crane clears his throat. “Regarding our hasty betrothal–”

“You know what? Don’t even worry about it,” Abbie says quickly, pushing herself off the couch. “We were both pretty drunk, and it’s probably better if–”

“I wish to court you, Lieutenant.”

Abbie’s certain her brain must have short-circuited, but when she finally forces herself to look at him again, it’s clear that she heard him correctly. She quirks an eyebrow. “You want to do what?”

“I wish to court you,” he repeats. “Properly. If you will have me,” he adds.

Abbie opens her mouth. Closes it. She should say ‘no.’ She intends to say ‘no.’ But he’s giving her those goo-goo eyes and he just looks so damned earnest that she can’t quite force her brain to overrule her heart on this one.

“Yeah,” she says finally. “I’d like that.”

In a matter of seconds Crane is standing before her, her hands clasped in his. He kisses her knuckles. “You do me the profoundest honor, Lieutenant.”

Abbie grins. “You know, if we’re going to be… courting, you can probably start calling me ‘Abbie.’”

“Yes. Of course, Lieu–Abbie,” he says. He releases her hands, and then looks like he’s not sure what else to do with himself. “I should help Miss Jenny, I think.”

No sooner has he rushed off to do this than Abbie’s phone vibrates with a new text from Jenny, which she opens to find a picture of a guy in eighteenth-century dress smiling at the viewer, emblazoned with the words “Irrelevant, Performed Intercourse.”

“How did she find that so fast?” Abbie mutters to herself as she goes to join the two of them in the kitchen.

Game of Snobbery 05x10: A Book Reader’s Recap

For GoT Season 5, Episode 10 “Mother’s Mercy

Things were not going Satannis’s way at all. Turns out burning your kid alive is NOT supes popular with the sellsword vote, so they took all their unbutchered horses (save one) and ran. I mean it’s not as if a logical person vying for the throne in a feudal system would have like, eaten those horses and tried to wait out the storm for a few days before burning up his only heir, right? But good thing no one bothered to wake Satannis as they deserted to let him know, because he wouldn’t care about that. Or like his wife finally succumbing to the fatal flaw of having a womb. At which point Meli-sans-bra decided that Femme de Satannis was her final straw and ditched the camp on a horse that makes Shadowfax seem like slow potatoes.

IT’S ALMOST LIKE SHIREEN’S DEATH DIDN’T DO ANYTHING AT ALL other than like, melt a few snow drifts. There’s no one counting on those for survival, right?

Anyway, Satannis decided to continue on because plot necessity, but oh no! Ramsay Sue and his 20 Good Men multiplied into an army of 1500! Literally, how? And just when you thought at least there will be good battle action…

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Donna and Clara parallels

If I had to choose my two favourite NuWho female companions my answer right now would likely be a tie for Donna Noble and Clara Oswald and the reasons as for why are very similar. Donna and Clara happen to be quite different characters. The overconfident bossy control freak, the bold clever and compassionate teacher vs. the street smart compassionate temp worker who struggles  with her confidence in herself. But at the same time they happen to share two very important characteristics to me.

“You know what’s dangerous about you? It’s not that you make people take risks, it’s that you make them want to impress you. You make it so they don’t want to let you down. You have no idea how dangerous you make people to themselves when you’re around.“  Rory Williams (The Vampires of Venice)

DOCTOR: Look, we take this Amy, we leave ours. Only one Amy in the Tardis. Which one do you want?
(The Doctor puts Rory’s hand on the door latch.)
DOCTOR: It’s your choice.
RORY: This isn’t fair. You’re turning me into you.
(The 11th Doctor and Rory in The Girl Who Waited)

As demonstrated above Donna and Clara are by far not the only companions to challenge the Doctor. In fact all three of the Ponds did it during the 11th Doctor’s run (Rory does it on the two occasions mentioned, River does it in A Good Man goes to War and so does Amy in A Town Called Mercy) as did Mickey in the early days of the show. However all of these companions retain some serious hero worship towards the Doctor. I always found it rather astonishing how much worship towards the Doctor Captain Jack could muster given that the Doctor abandoned him in one of his hardest moments back on Platform One when he had to face his immortality. The one man who could actually understand him left him on his own because he looked at him and though that he was wrong due to a situation that happened because Jack fought for the Doctor. Despite that Jack continues to hero worship the Doctor after they are reunited. Not so much Donna and Clara.

Both of them of course adore the Doctor and believe he is wonderful, but at the same time Donna and Clara consider themselves to be every bit as good and as important as the Doctor.

DOCTOR: TARDIS, Time Lord-yeah!
DONNA: Donna, Human-no! I don’t need your permission. I’ll tell them myself. 

(The 10th Doctor and Donna in The Fires of Pompeii)

“Donna. I’m a human being. Maybe not the stuff of legend but every bit as important as Time Lords, thank you.“

(Donna in The Stolen Earth)

DOCTOR: Vesuvius explodes with the force of 24 nuclear bombs. Nothing can survive it. Certainly not us.
DONNA: Never mind us.

(The 10th Doctor and Donna in The Fires of Pompeii)

Here Donna outright spells it out on two occasions in series 4 and when the Doctor is faced with an impossible choice at the end of The Fires of Pompeii she doesn’t let him do it alone, she assumes the same kind of responsibiity as the Doctor does. In Clara we see this shine through in her actions over series 8 and 9, on two ocassions in Flatline and in Death in Heaven she even goes as far as playing the Doctor but also in her words to the Doctor prior to her death.

Why? Why shouldn’t I be so reckless? You’re reckless all the bloody time! Why can’t I be like you?

(Clara in Face the Raven)

Of course she is more breakable than the Doctor but does this mean that she isn’t every bit as good or as important as him? No. She doesn’t let this prevent her from assuming a death which would be worthy even of the Doctor.

DONNA: Doctor! You can stop now!

(Donna in The Runaway Bride)

DONNA: Just promise me one thing. Find someone.
DOCTOR: I don’t need anyone.
DONNA: Yes, you do. Because sometimes, I think you need someone to stop you. 

(The 10th Doctor and Donna in The Runaway Bride)

“Just someone. Please. Not the whole town. Just save someone.” (Donna in The Fires of Pompeii)

You can of course argue that the fact that the Doctor is a Time Lord who has lived over two thousands of years does indeed make him more important and better than mere human beings Donna Noble and Clara Oswald. Of course the Doctor is more experienced, cleverer and less breakable than Donna or Clara.

But on the other hand they have other qualities which make them every bit as important and good as the Doctor - they’re both compassionate to the core and serve as his ultimate moral compass in the days when he steps too far away from humanity and when he needs someone to keep him in check from becoming the Timelord Victorious.

DOCTOR: What? What is it? What?
CLARA: Nothing.
DOCTOR: No, it’s something. Tell me.
CLARA: You told me you wiped out your own people. I just. I never pictured you doing it, that’s all.
MOMENT: Take a closer look.
(It suddenly goes dark.)
CLARA: What’s happening?
WARRIOR: Nothing. It’s a projection.
MOMENT: It’s a reality around you.
(They are seeing Gallifrey at war.)
CLARA: These are the people you’re going to burn?
DOCTOR 10: There isn’t anything we can do.
DOCTOR: He’s right. There isn’t another way. There never was. Either I destroy my own people or let the universe burn.
CLARA: Look at you. The three of you. The warrior, the hero, and you.
DOCTOR: And what am I?
CLARA: Have you really forgotten?
DOCTOR: Yes. Maybe, yes.
CLARA: We’ve got enough warriors. Any old idiot can be a hero.
DOCTOR: Then what do I do?
CLARA: What you’ve always done. Be a doctor. You told me the name you chose was a promise. What was the promise?
(The fighting seems to have stopped on Gallifrey.)
DOCTOR 10: Never cruel or cowardly.
WARRIOR: Never give up, never give in.

(The 10th, the 11th and the War Doctor and Clara in The Day of the Doctor)

CLARA: You. Now, you listen to me. You’re going to be alone now, and you’re very bad at that. You’re going to be furious and you’re going to be sad, but listen to me. Don’t let this change you. No, listen. Whatever happens next… wherever she is sending you, I know what you’re capable of. You don’t be a warrior. Promise me. Be a Doctor.
DOCTOR: What’s the point of being a Doctor if I can’t cure you?
CLARA: Heal yourself. You have to. You can’t let this turn you into a monster. So… I’m not asking you for a promise. I’m giving you an order. You will not insult my memory. There will be no revenge. I will die, and no-one else, here or anywhere, will suffer.

(The 12th Doctor and Clara in Face the Raven)

Clara does so even in her death. In the kind of moments that the Doctor usually reserves for reflecting on himself prior to regeneration, Clara puts others ahead of herself. While the Doctor does often think of others prior to regeneration (be it 9 and Rose, 10 and all of his companions, 11 and Amy) and Clara tries to encourage herself with whispering “Let me be brave“ to herself prior to the end, his last words tend to focus on himself, there’s a lot of I (9: “And you know what? So was I!“, 10: “I don’t want to go“, 11: “I will always remember when the Doctor was me“) while her last message ultimately lies with continuing to try to morally guide the Doctor, on protecting Ashildr from his rage and on absoluting Rigsy of his guilt.


“Merida will be a leader - a great leader - in her own right, in her own way. She doesn’t have to do it the same way her mom did it, but she needs to acquire a little more wisdom and judgment. The journey she takes with Mum-Bear helps her do that. It sets her priorities straight.” 
- Brenda Chapman, The Art of Brave

“Eret is a swashbuckling, northern pirate; he’s a world-class trapper and he knows it. He surrounds himself with goons so he can shine as their boss. We referenced Mafia movies and pegged Eret as the guy who enforces things. He’s not the top guy and, in fact, he doesn’t want to run the operation; he just wants to make his profit and get out.”
- Simon Otto, The Art of How To Train Your Dragon 2

(I think we’ve established that I’m shameless in my shipping, yes? So no one should be surprised.) 

Okay. Down to business. 

I got the HTTYD2 art book last Christmas, before I really came to appreciate *coughobsessovercough* Eret son of Eret. But once he caught my attention, this quote really became the foundation of everything I do with Eret. Both in my headcanons and analyses, and in the Mereta ship.

Part of Eret’s posturing is, I believe, born from the complete lack of control he has over his own life. I’m not saying he doesn’t have an ego. He absolutely, definitely does. 

But it’s also because he has no one to challenge him. Among his men, there’s no one to poke fun at him. This was intentional on his part, whether he’s aware of it or not. So his ego has been allowed to run free. Save for the whole Drago thing. 

After he recovered from the brand, I suspect his bluster increased so he wouldn’t have to dwell on what happened - even though it’s always at the back of his mind.  “I’m Eret, son of Eret. Finest dragon trapper alive.” …except when he fails to meet quota.

Okay, okay, sorry. This isn’t supposed to be an Eret meta - there’s just so much about his character to unpack. 

But, like I said, he has no one to challenge him. He’s superior to his crew in every respect. He’s taller, more attractive, is probably stronger, more skilled, and smarter. (His intelligence is relative here, of course. While he has street smarts, of course, when it comes to actual intellect, he pales in comparison to Hiccup.)

When I first started thinking about the Merida/Eret ship in my head, I realized that Merida is never going to let him get away with that. She may never be as strong as him (it’s physically impossible), but she makes up for it in her own way. Her skill with a bow matches, if it doesn’t exceed, his skill with a sword. And we know, for that matter, she’s not bad with a sword herself. (I still hold with my headcanon that some someday Eret’s going to put a short sword in her hand, and heaven help anyone who dares get in her way after that day.) Their intelligence is different, but on a similar level. 

The same could be said of their pride.

“I am Eret, son of Eret.” 

“I am Merida. First born decedent of clan DunBroch.” 

She’s not going to take his blustering. She’ll go toe to toe with him. Without blinking. With out considering he’s almost twice her size. Posturing, and brovado, does not impress Merida. Action does. 

(This is where it becomes important that “finest dragon trapper alive” isn’t just something Eret throws around. It’s why I’m glad the quote points out that “he’s a world class dragon trapper - and he knows it”. Eret may brag, but he has the skills to back up that braggadocio. 

And, while I’m on the subject… This is the difference between Eret and the young Lord Macintosh. Someone once argued against Mereta saying that Merida would have the same reaction to Eret that she did to Macintosh. But the difference here is that Eret can back up his claims. Macintosh gives no indication of having any platform to stand on. 

And Merida’s sarcastic “that’s attractive” comes when Macintosh throws his fit - and his bow - because his shot was so poor. 

Eret’s ego - while inflated - isn’t because he’s a spoiled child. It’s because he’s worked hard, he’s gotten good, and he knows it. In Macintosh’s position at the games - well, first, he would be more concerned with actually aiming than with trying to look cool while doing so. Second, if he did miss, then instead of throwing a tantrum, he would pull out another arrow and take another shot. Something I think would impress Merida.)

But I digress. Back to Merida challenging Eret’s self-made “I’m so cool” pedestal.

Outside of Drago’s abuse, Eret’s not used to being challenged. 

For that matter, he’s not used to being teased. 

And Merida is merciless in her teasing. (Exhibit A: her and her father’s commentary on the suitors during the games. And, of course, the “aww, wee lamb” comment.) I guarantee none of Eret’s men would dare tease their boss the way Merida and Fergus tease everyone. In Merida’s world, if you can’t take a good ribbing, well… that’s your problem. (Exhibit B: the way Merida laughed at Fergus when his hunting bird attacked him.)

Away from Drago’s control, and the very real stress of losing his head, Eret will probably relax, learn how to take that ribbing. 

We know from the end of HTTYD2 that he is capable of humility. So, once he’s challenged - and once someone proves that they can go toe to toe - he’ll accept that. If he can back his bluster up, he will require any challenger to do the same.

It might chafe at first, since he’s not used to someone else being on his level. Especially by a girl who’s half his size. But it will be easier to accept in a situation where someone isn’t completely challenging his worldview. 

By simply being herself, and without trying to change him (<– this is very important), Merida’s teasing is going to call him ou. Eret’s ego will deflate once he’s not the most brilliant person (or the largest personality) in the room. And Merida’s personality is a match for his. It might even be bigger. (Though it’s balanced by their physical size difference.) 

Eret, meanwhile, is going to be a steadying influence on Merida. He’s a few years older, and more mature (by some definition…). Seeing that will subconciously draw out a new level of maturity in Merida,  if only so she can hold that place as his equal. If she acts like a child running at the heels of an adult, there is no equality there. It doesn’t matter how well she can shoot a bow. 

(Exhibit C: the fact we see Eret holding a random Berkian child in the end of HTTYD2 has lead to my headcanon that, once free from Drago, Eret will be keenly interested in settling down with his own family. A concept that will terrify Merida at first… but will probably grow on her once she finds someone she’s willing to settle down with. But it indicates a steady maturity in Eret, hence why it’s in my pile of evidence.) 

While Merida takes after Fergus, Eret is similar to Elinor in some ways. He’ll run through the woods with Merida. But he also sees the value in the education Elinor is trying to give her daughter. Knows that she’s going to need it as a queen.  And, simply by not being her mother, he can get across to her things she won’t hear from Elinor. Sometimes we’re more willing to hear something from someone outside the situation.

He also won’t be swayed by Merida’s temper. He’s a sailor - he knows how to guide a ship through a storm. As a dragon trapper, he knows how to stop a powerful force without destroying it. 

He’s going to admire Merida’s wild side. He can run as hard and as fast as she can - keeping up with her whatever adventure she decides to go on. He has no desire to tame her - just to see her passion given purpose. 

Any time he sees her use the skills her mother taught her, as in that scene in Brave when she stops the fighting in the hall, his chest swells with pride. Because he can see she’ll be an amazing queen, she’s just a little rough around the edges.

Okay. Back to the quotes. 

The Art of Brave just arrived tonight. As soon as I read the quote about Merida, my brain immediately connected it to the quote about Eret. (How could I not? “She’s a leader.” “He has no interest in being a leader.” My shipper heart is singing.)

Eventually, Merida will take DunBroch’s throne. (An event that I expect will be NOTHING like what Once Upon A Time depicted - but that’s a subject for another time.) 

Does she NEED a man? No. I don’t think she would mind having one, though. Especially if it was some who acknowledged her as an equal. And one who loves her for her, not caring about whether or not she’s a princess.

Eret would be perfectly happy as her prince consort. Though I doubt that exact title was used in ancient Scotland, so let’s stick with the language of the quote and call him her enforcer. 

Merida will grow into a great leader, with her mother’s teaching, and Eret will be perfectly content supporting her from the sidelines. Oh, he’ll be right beside her. Whether in the throne room, or on the battlefield. But she’s the leader, and no one doubts that. 

He can make suggestions when she’s not sure, since he does have an understanding of how the tribal politics work. (I imagine his tribe is similar to the Scottish clans, with multiple sub tribes under one leader.) He knows how to calm her temper - usually before she destroys something with her claymore. Usually. (The posts of their bed have to be replaced with some regularity. Though he does notice that, no matter how much damage she does to any part of the castle in her rage, she never, ever touches any of the tapestries…) 

Eret gets a home free from Drago, Merida gets a husband who’s her friend first and foremost, who can provide her with an heir. She gets an enforcer, he gets a leader who isn’t abusive.It’s a win-win for both of them.

Occasionally, his ego does start to get out of hand. (Old habits die hard, after all.) Merida just rolls her eyes, makes a snide remark, and he usually comes down pretty quick.

There might be some muttering from the lords about the princess marrying an outsider (since they obviously all still had hopes of seeing their sons on the throne next to Merida at the end of the movie). But I kind of doubt any of them would really want to challenge him. Even if they did, I doubt they could take him. (I’m sorry, have you seen Eret’s arms??)

(I also may like the image of Eret stepping forward in the annual games to request a chance for the princess’s hand… but that’s a drabble for another them. X3)

Okay. Now that long post is long, I think I’ve covered everything.

Oh, before I forget… the gifs used belong to Iggyfing - from this set, which is wonderful

Batman vs Superman vs Sebastian

Sebastian Stan x Reader

Requested by anon: a one shot where the reader and him go to the cinema and he won’t shut up talking about how that or this is strange and doesn’t make sense or something like that. Inspired by this post

Warnings: swears, spoilers for that movie?

Word count: 932

A/N: I feel like this fic shits a lot on Batman v Superman so sorry DC lovers. Nothing personal I just picked a movie I’d seen recently that I could make Seb hate. 

Originally posted by my-buckys

“I can’t believe you convinced me to see this movie. I’m dating a traitor.” Sebastian grumbles as he pulls up to the cinema.

“Batman vs Superman looks awesome Seb, I can’t help it if you’re biased.”

“Marvel pretty much paid for our apartment; I’d figure we were both a little biased.”  

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

So you can imagine how freaking pissed Han would have been if he'd seen Leia taken as Jabba's slave.

i should really be working on Seren’s prompt rn becasuse I’m behind schedule but I feel like she’d appreciate this

clears throat




let’s back up, for those of you who don’t have background. Han is many things. Han has lied, cheated, smuggled, and killed his way out of many a sticky situation. For a good chunk of his life, his morals are grey and dubious at best.

Han is fundamentally against slavery.

Let’s say that again, so we get it down pat.

Han Solo is fundamentally, passionately, angrily AGAINST SLAVERY OF ANY KIND.

If we’re taking the EU as true (which we are, bc I’m pretty sure this ask is based on a post I made earlier this morning reading The Hutt Gambit), Han’s lived all of his childhood in an abusive situation where the people being abused (himself being one of them) are told that no, they’re not owned by anyone, they’re technically free to leave, but they have zip-zero finances, ability, or skills. A child in an abusive situation can’t just up and leave if he doesn’t want to work for the abuser anymore. Emotionally and physically, they’re stuck. Trapped. They have to work to make Shrike money or they get the hell beaten out of them (”the last time, Han hadn’t been able to walk for two days”. That is a direct quote). And if they do run away and get caught, then they’re dragged back and beaten some more.

That is for all intents and purposes slavery. It’s not called owning and buying, because Shrike didn’t buy any of them. But it is a situation where you are essentially owned.

Fast forward to when Han is nineteen. He finally escapes the abuse to go and work for a bunch of “priests” on a planet called Ylesia, owned and run, as it soon turns out, by Hutts. 

The people on the planet - the “pilgrims” - are addicted. They’re addicted to pleasure, pleasure under the disguise of “spiritual enlightenment”, and because of that addiction they’re trapped on the planet, working themselves to the bone to make spice in factories to sell to other worlds to make money for the Hutts and t’landa Til. And when they’re decently addicted, they’re literally sold as slaves to work in Kessel. 

Han sees all of this first hand. Han falls in love with one of the slaves, and Han witnesses first hand what addiction and enslavement can do to someone’s spirit and self-worth. 

Fast forward another five years. Han gets kicked out of the kriffing Imperial Navy, which has been his dream since he was very young and he nearly got killed getting into - because, GET THIS, he attacked a superior officer who tried to kill a “misbehaving” slave. 

Han’s stared down Hutt crime lords and refused point blank to haul slaves as cargo. Han’s put his own ass on the line multiple times because he hates this idea of slavery so much. Han has willingly killed slavers. One of the reasons he dislikes the Empire so much is because of their increasing enslavement of non-humanoids.

Background done.

So now, after Han’s finally in a spot where he might have regained footing in his crazy life, through which he’s been abused, nearly killed multiple times, betrayed multiple times, abandoned, physically beaten, emotionally hurt, and tons of other nasty-ass things - he is finally in a spot where he might have some equilibrium. There’s this woman, see, who brings out the best in him, who forces him to be better, to love more, to give more willingly, to be less angry and cynical and bitter and maybe even believe.

 And then he gets stuck in carbon freeze not knowing if he’s going to die and not knowing what’s going to happen to her and then - oh, then - he’s being woken up and he’s disoriented and she is there -

only for her to be ripped away and humilated, violated, and chained to the kriffing dias of the same massive, corrupt slug Han once resolute told: 

“I’m against slavery. There’s no damn way I’m shipping slaves, even if it means you won’t hire me.”

And it’s because she came back to get him, to rescue Han, that this has happened to her, because she loves him.

So, keeping all of this in mind, if you for so much as a second actually believe that the first thought crossing Han Solo’s head when he learns about the slave girl outfit is “geez, I wish I could’a seen that” and a lecherous smile, I honestly don’t even know what to say to you and you need to seriously rethink your logic. And understanding of this character. And possibly also sit on a cactus.

Have a nice day, and for more headcanons re: what Han might have actually been thinking, go have a chat with star-vault-ofthe-heavens or 1000-alshain, who have some excellent thoughts. And by excellent I mean heartbreakingly painful. But anyway.

Detention (Mr. Hood AU)



A/N: omg this is kind of long idk i guess i was inspired but anyways hope you enjoy it and I’m trying out a different writing style so let me know what you think! xx :)


A loud shrill rang throughout my ears, making me gulp, as I slammed my locker shut quickly, gathering my things and stuffing them messily into my bag. This was the fourth time I was late to Mr. Hood’s class, and he was sure to let me have it. He didn’t have many rules, but tardiness was unexcusable. “How are you going to maintain a job if you can’t show up on time?” he questioned rhetorically when I had shown up late the day before.

I noticed the door to his classroom was open, so I hoped I’d be able to just sneak in especially since my seat was all the way in the back. Taking a deep breath, I entered his room with my head ducked, silently thanking the lord when I saw his back turned towards the class. I slid down in my seat and slowly set my bag down, letting out a breath of air I hadn’t realized I was holding.

“Late again, Miss (Y/L/N)?” he said, not even turning around to face me. My cheeks heated up and I ducked my head from embarrassment.

“Sorry, Mr. Hood. I just was having-” I tried to explain, though, to my annoyance, I was cut off my Mr. Hood slamming down his dry erase marker.

“I don’t want excuses. This is your fourth tardy; I assumed you’d learn your lesson by now. Detention. Two hours. If you’re here even one minute past 3:40, I will double it. And if you think I’m not being serious, go ahead and test me,” he said, finally turning around to face me, however, I wished he hadn’t. His face was contorted angrily and he was fuming, and to be quite honest, it scared the hell out of me. I nodded meekly and he breathed loudly, turning around to the board to explain some battle strategy that the Nazis used to take over France, but I couldn’t pay attention whatsoever.


A few students laughed at me when I left my eighth period quickly, rushing to get to Mr. Hood’s room, which unfortunately happened to be on the otherside of the school. Apparently everyone had heard how I pissed off the gorgeous Mr. Hood, and some girls came up to congradulate me at lunch about how I was going to get to spend some alone time with ‘the hottest teacher at our school’ but I just wished it would be over.

I knocked on his door quietly, peeking at the clock. Two minutes to spare. He stood up from his desk, motioning for me to come in, and came and shut the door behind me. I began making my way to the back of the room to my desk, but he stopped me. “There aren’t any other students in here. You can sit in the front. This way, I’ll know for sure you’re actually getting work done. You have two missing assignments for me. Get them done before you leave today, and I’ll still accept them for full credit.”

Two sheets of paper were placed on my desk and I bit back a groan, hoping to not tick him off. Okay, number one. How did Hitler take power in Germany? I sighed. I knew I should’ve know this, but I didn’t. Hitler. Hitler. Hitler. Taking over Germany. I was coming up blank. A shadow was cast over my paper and I slowly looked up at Mr. Hood who was frowning at my paper.

“You’ve been on that question for almost ten minutes. It’s quite simple.”

His cocky tone aggrivated me and I set my pencil down. “Clearly not. Perhaps the reason you’ve understood this material was because you had an actual teacher?” I suggested sarcastically, smiling up at him, only to regret it a second later. His large hand gripped my upper arm, pulling me up so I was standing, and his chest moved up and down quickly.

He took a deep breath and I slowly peered up at his face to see him smirking down at me. “Perhaps I understand all of this material because I actually showed up on time. That and I didn’t spend my class time fantasizing about my teacher.”

My face heated up and I coughed out of shock, shaking my head quickly. “I don’t- that’s not- I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re delusional,” I blurted out, though I couldn’t deny the low heat burning my lower stomach and the slight throbbing between my legs.

“Really? So, you aren’t thinking of all the things I could be doing to you right now? My hands, my mouth, my cock?” he questioned, his hand slidding down from my arm to my hip, resting there lightly. I shook my head furiously, my brain going crazy. God, he smelled like heaven, and it felt like fire where his fingers had touched. “Okay. Then, I’ll leave you to get back to work,” he said with a shrug, the smirk never leaving his lips, and turned around.

“Wait!” I said before I could stop myself. My skin heated further and I felt like I was on fire, my gaze dropping to the ground.

“Yes, Miss (Y/L/N)?” 

I could feel his stupid smirk and the image of his stupid plump lips popped into my brain. My fingers grabbed the hem of my skirt and fisted it slightly out of frustration. He was going to make me say it, wasn’t he? “You weren’t wrong,” I whispered, shame filling my body. Here I was, basically saying I wanted to fuck my teacher. If he rejected me I was never showing up to his class again. But then, what if he didn’t? What then? My mind was going a mile-a-minute, but went completely blank when his hand tilted my face up and his lips pressed against mine softly.

“Good,” he said against my lips. “Because I have been thinking about fucking you over my desk for so long, (Y/N). Your lips wrapped around my cock. My cock buried inside your tight pussy. I want you so badly. Can I?” he asked, his fingers moving to the top button of my blouse, and I could only nod slightly. “I need to hear you say it, (Y/N).”

“Yes, Mr. Hood,” I breathed, my heartbeating so fast I thought it would give out. His fingers moved down to unbutton my blouse and I barely registered the sound of buttons hitting the floor. His lips attached to the spot between my jaw and earlobe as he pushed me so I was sitting on the small desk. My blouse was quickly pushed of my shoulders and his mouth quickly left small, sloppy kisses there, my hands wrapping around his shoulders to tangle themselves in his hair. 

His rough fingers slid around my back and unclasped my bra, letting it hit the floor. My cheeks flushed and I pulled back slightly, embarrassed to be so exposed in front of this absolutely gorgeous man. “Hey, hey,” he whispered, kissing my lips. “You’re beautiful, so don’t hide yourself from me, okay?”

I nodded slightly, tugging on his shirt to pull it off of him, and he helped by grabbing the back of the neck, pulling it off expertly. There were a few tattos on his torso and arms and I admired them, running my fingers over each one I could. I was quickly distracted by his fingers slidding up my skirt and running up and down my clothed slit.

“So fucking wet already,” he said, his eyes wide and full of excitement. He slowly pushed the irritating fabric to the side, running one finger over my clit. I whimpered and he pulled away, slipping the finger into his mouth, moaning softly. It was possibly the sexiest noise I had ever heard. “Are you a virgin, (Y/N)?”

Shyly, I shook my head. I’d only had sex once before and it was enough to make me hold off for a long time. He sighed in content before dipping his thumbs into the bands of my panties, sliding them down my legs slowly. He got on his knees and inhaled, closing his eyes and moaning. “You smell delicious. I bet you taste even better. May I?”

My face flushed, again, and I nodded. I threw my head back, sitting up quickly when I felt his tongue pressing against my clit. Whimpers fell from my lips softly as his tongue continuted drawing patterns against my core, occasionally poking at my entrance making me bite my lip to keep from moaning loudly. He ran a finger up my slit before pushing it into my entrance. Knots began forming in my stomach as I gripped his hair so tightly, my knuckles turned white. His finger curled up, making me cry out, while his tongue sucked harshly on my clit, my release creeping up quickly. His other hand came up and grabbed my hip, holding me steady while I unraveled above him. 

He stood up slowly, licking his lips and sucking on his finger. His hands then moved down to his belt and he quickly discared his pants and boxers, making me shyly look away. “So innocent,” he murmured, grabbing my cheek softly so I’d look at him. Assuming he wanted a blow job, I began to get on my knees, only to have his stop me. “No, not today. I need to be inside of you. Please?”

I nodded and he turned me around, bending me over the shaky desk. I felt his cock run up and down my slit, making me hiss when it tapped my clit. He lined himself at my entrance and slowly pushed into me, stopping for a moment to let me adjust. I didn’t feel any pain, though it didn’t feel particularly comfortable. Slowly, he pulled out, before rocking back in faster than he did before. His fingers dug into my hips as he held me in place, quiet profanities leaving his mouth.

His hips smacked against mine, the sound of skin slapping together echoing around the otherwise silent room. Suddenly, I felt a sharp burst of pleasure spread through my stomach and I moaned loudly. “God, Mr. Hood,” I cried out. I normally would’ve been embarrassed, but at that moment, I couldn’t care less.

“Fuck, baby, you close?” he moaned, bending over so his mouth was by my ear. I could only groan in response, pleasure taking over my body, and he slid his hand down to rub my clit harshly. “Come for me, baby.”

I came so intensly, I felt like I was going to cry, dizziness taking over my body as I momentarily left the world. When I came back, Mr. Hood was discarding a condom I hadn’t even seen him put on, but was silently grateful he had. I stood up, my legs feeling shaky, so Mr. Hood steadied me with an arm around my waist. 

“I hope I lived up to your fantasy?” he asked cheekily, and I blushed, staring at the ground.

“Exceeded it, Mr. Hood,” I answered shyly, looking around for my blouse. I picked it up, pulling it around my shoulders, before looking around for my panties.

“Looking for these? I hope you don’t mind if I keep them,” he whispered, tucking them into a pocket on his pants. How had he gotten dressed so quickly? “Now I hope you’ll remember to be on time next time?” he suggested, pressing a small kiss to my lips.





  • I mean dear lord the fucking plane trip alone. THE PLANE TRIP WILL TAKE FOREVER. They’ll probably have to fly to Hawaii then transfer then fly to California and transfer and MAYBE if they’re lucky they’ll be able to go from California to Boston without another transfer but MAYBE NOT. That is a lot of time on PLANES. THOSE FIVE GIRLS ON A PLANE. FOR HOURS. THOSE POOR OTHER PASSENGERS.
  • Oh wow, they are going to be relying on Minako and Ami HARDCORE. I mean they already rely on Minako and Ami for lots of things in life but now there is ENGLISH.
  • But ohhhhh MInako’s going to be so pissed when she gets there and she realizes that all the slang she knows is ENGLAND slang, which is useless, and even worse she’ll have to deal with NEW ENGLAND SLANG (“A rotary? Don’t people have cell phones here? Why are they still using old phones?” “A package store? Why do you have to go to a store and pay for your packages, don’t they deliver them to your home here?” “Why is everything WICKED? Is this because there were witches here years ago, those witch-hunts? ARE THERE STILL WITCH-HUNTERS?”)
  • Okay but Ami is going to research everything EXTENSIVELY before they even go. But what about the one thing that goes beyond research here - THE WEATHER. Like, they SHOULD visit during the autumn, but let’s say they come in August - “my research says that the Northeast has a cooler climate and we’ll be right on the Atlantic coast!” So they pack all their warm clothes and are greeted with a HUMID AUGUST HEAT WAVE HITTING 100 FAHRENHEIT. POOR AMI.
  • I can’t even imagine if they come in the winter and have to deal with A BLIZZARD (“NOOOOO WHY ARE WE BACK AT D-POINT”).
  • And before Minako decides to troll the fuck out of Rei and say “here you can borrow my special highly-accurate documentary of Boston life” and it’s just a bunch of episodes of CHEERS and Rei is SO PISSED when she finds out (after she has told Ami that she’s learned so much about American culture - “All community activity is based around bars, and they seem to have a special reverence for the community leader known as a ‘Norm’.”) (also Rei is going to be super pissed when she realizes Harvard isn’t technically in Boston because what the hell Mamoru I thought we were going to a famous metropolis, nobody’s heard of Cambridge “REI, BOSTON IS RIGHT THERE, I PROMISE WE WILL GO INTO BOSTON, CALM DOWN”)
  • Okay but so Mamoru meets them all at Logan Airport and they have to get back to his place in Somerville somehow (while attending Harvard, Mamoru shares a floor of a triple-decker with three other students)
  • (but Shannon, isn’t Mamoru pretty loaded? HE’S SHARING A FLOOR OF A TRIPLE-DECKER WITH THREE OTHER STUDENTS. Seriously cost of living around here is ridiculous you don’t want to know. Also Somerville and Cambridge are East Coast Hipsterville U.S.A., Mamoru will be happy there)
  • So like, even if we assume Mamoru has a car (MAMORU DRIVING IN THE METRO-BOSTON REGION, THAT’S ITS OWN POINT COMPLETELY) it’s probably not big enough to fit ALL OF THEM.
  • THE T
  • And Usagi is scared at first and Rei’s all like “Stay away from these weirdos, Usagi!” but then she ends up making friends with everyone in the car, it is magic.
  • Okay so one night Mamoru takes Usagi out for “authentic” New England seafood and he introduces her to clam chowder IN A BREAD BOWL. “You mean I can … EAT THE BOWL?” This changes Usagi’s entire life.
  • And because they are the senshi and random evil follows them everywhere, WHAT ARE THE RANDOM THINGS THAT BECOME MONSTERS FOR THEM TO BATTLE. Do like all of our random statues of old dudes on horses come to life? Zealous Red Sox fans being possessed by evil? (lol what’s the difference *BA DUM TISH*) DO THE VILLAINS TAKE OVER A DUNKIN’S? If the villains take over a Dunkin’s we are so fucked.
  • Okay but most important of all
  • Ami drags them all to EVERY educational tourist site and attraction that the Metro-Boston region has to offer.
  • AMI MAKING THEM GO TO HARVARD’S MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY (oh dear god the villains will make all the taxidermied animals come to life and it would actually be my worst nightmare)
  • And then to make it up to Usagi, Ami takes them to THE CHILDREN’S MUSEUM (a.k.a. Usagi’s heaven)
  • I would literally read an entire fanfic series of “Ami drags everyone else to educational stuff around Boston while visiting Mamoru”
  • Also Minako trying to pick up literally every single American person they encounter, good night.