this has been sitting in my drafts for two weeks

Shance Yoga Teacher au

Yes, friends, this au is 100% what you’re thinking. FLEXIBLE AF LANCE AND THIRSTY AF SHIRO

  • Starting with a bit of angst. Shiro is an ex marine (I will NEVER let go of this hc in my modern aus deal with it), who lost his hand (hand. not entire arm. just the hand) in battle. This au isn’t far in the future, so there are no fancy advanced prosthetics. The healing process was long and painful, not to mention extremely emotionally and mentally taxing.
  • Once he he’s actually healthy enough, both mentally and physically, to have enough energy for things other than treatment, the first thing he wants to do is to try and build more muscle mass, like he used to have. He liked being buff, and he still is, but less than he used to be. Both he and his therapist think it’ll be good for strengthening his positive body image, too.
  • Shiro asks his doctor (Allura) what form of exercise can she recommend at this stage, and she says Yoga. He’s skeptical at first, but what can he already lose if he goes to one session, right?
  • The hospital actually holds a class for patients, and Allura said the instructor is well experienced with amputees (amongst other conditions).
  • Shiro’s brain for the entire first minute upon meeting Lance: OH NO HE’S HOT THIS WAS A MISTAKE
  • No backing out tho he’s already been spotted and Lance is questioning him about his exact conditions so he can know best what he can safely instruct him to do and what he can’t.
  • Shiro’s brain continues to die the entire time, but he manages some answers anyway. Finally, Lance has enough, plus the rest of the group arrives and the session starts.
  • First, there’s breathing exercises. Easy enough, right?
  • Lance tells them to close their eyes, but whenever Shiro does, he the only thing he has left to focus on is Lance’s voice (which is the point) and he gets super flustered because it’s so smooth? and pleasant? and kinda sexy?? and he can’t help but want that voice to whisper to him sensually and- NOPE, gotta open his eyes.
  • The rest of the class is a little harder, for two major reasons.
  • For once, the exercises are actually more demanding than he expected. He always thought he was pretty stretchy, but heavens, is a human body even supposed to bend this far?
  • Which brings us to the next difficulty. Lance’s body is more than capable of bending that far, and it’s driving him insane.
  • Despite how stressful it was trying not to stare at his ass too much and generally not turn into a tomato, the session was actually… really great. Shiro feels better when he walks out, more relaxed somehow, even though his heart still speeds up when he remembers Lance doing that one pose.
  • Lance asks him to hang back for a moment to talk to him and Shiro is all Oh No He Noticed Me Staring but nope. Lance just wanted to ask how he feels and if anything made his arm hurt really bad etc. He also excessively complimented his natural flexibility, saying he’ll be able to do “all sorts of things” soon enough. Shiro is really unsure, but it almost seems like Lance smirked while saying that? Nah, he must be just imagining things because of his developing crush.
  • The next few sessions aren’t very different. Supposedly, anyway. After basing his level and current capabilities, Lance decided that Shiro could use more personal guidance, including LOTS of touching to correct his pose. Lance, being a professional, always asks for permission to touch him first, which somehow only makes it that much worse, because Shiro wants Lance to touch him. So so bad. Shiro is literally dying. These pants are tight and they will not hide a boner. He’s suffering. Someone help him.
  • There’s no help, and Poor Shiro has to constantly deal with gentle touches and low purrs because god forbid anyone makes a loud noise in the middle of yoga class. It goes on for a couple of weeks until one day he gets a most peculiar text from Lance.
  • (They exchanged numbers because Shiro wanted to add a third yoga session to his weekly schedule but the hospital only held the classes twice a week, and Lance gives him his number in case he has any questions. Of course, barely any Yoga advice was exchanged. )
  • Lance’s text: Uggghhh I can’t do this anymore! Allura, I know he’s your patient and all and he’s “”“"healing”“”“ and stuff but I can’t hold back anymore I just can’t. He’s too hot. I know I promised to hold back BUT THIS IS IT I’M ASKING HIM OUT
  • Shaking, Shiro texts back, asking who Lance is talking about.
  • Lance doesn’t text back for like half an hour and Shiro starts seriously freaking out when he gets a long ass text from Lance, where he apologizes for being so unprofessional and confessing his crush etc.
  • Shiro could almost cry from relief, because a few minutes ago he thought he might’ve lost all chances with Lance but now… He has more than a slight chance. He calls Lance and confesses his own crush and they both laugh and maybe it’s a little awkward because what do you even say in a situation like this but eventually they manage to schedule a date.
  • They take it slow, let things develop naturally. Lance gives Shiro all the time and space he needs, since it’s the first time he’s tried dating since he lost his hand. Takes a little trial and error, but one day, a few months later, Shiro finds out just how far Lance can bend.
Trinket Trove

Pairing: McHanzo

Rating: G

Summary: No shiny object is safe with Hanzo’s dragons around. Not even something as important as a ring…

– – – – – – – – – –

Written for @mchanzo-week 2017, for Day 4 (Red/Blue) and 5 (Traditional/Unorthodox) 

Read on Ao3

Author’s Note: This has been sitting in my drafts for a long ass time but McHanzo Week finally kicked me into gear to get it done. Helped that it fit two prompts

Jesse McCree was a man who knew how to roll with the punches. Resourcefulness was a skill he had perfected over years of being on the run after he deserted from Blackwatch, and hell, even maybe before that.

This. This was not something Jesse could easily roll with.

Jesse had already torn his own room apart looking for the ring. It wasn’t a simple case of him simply forgetting where he had hidden it either. Yes, he had to have hidden it somewhere incredibly sneaky to avoid Hanzo simply coming across it, but he had checked every single nook and cranny in the room. Shit, he had even checked the ceiling tiles.

No matter how high or low Jesse looked however, the engagement ring he’d finally saved up enough money for was absolutely nowhere to be seen. He weighed his options, which were looking to be either: A) letting the cat out of the bag and asking Hanzo for his help or B) tear the entire base apart. The latter option was the one Jesse decided on, not quite ready to face the music. Hanzo always had said he was a stubborn man. Jesse just liked to prove him right time and time again.

He made it all the way to the rec room before Hanzo discovered him.

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When does a man become a ghost?

When his name is carved in marble but his heart beats on.
When his lover whispers someone else’s name.
When he becomes a footnote in someone else’s story.

When you take away his name.
When he doesn’t know his own face.
When the world forgets him.

—   When nobody believes he still lives. Not even him. (j.p.

alluroa  asked:

and this one “You were chased by the cops, got in my car and just yelled ‘Drive!’” AU!!

Anonymous: "You were chased by the cops, got in my car and just yelled ‘Drive!“ for an au prompt

Sorry about the ending - this has been sitting in my drafts for two weeks and I was getting impatient… This is on my list to be finished I promise :) (also if you have any ideas on how to end this send me a message or like… write it in the tags???)

  • Neil was relaxing in a borrowed Ford Fiesta that smelled like fish cakes, chugging a lukewarm bottle of water he had just bought from the gas station, and contemplating how much money he could spare on ethanol, when the passenger door swung open and slammed shut in one swift, chaotic movement.
  • “Drive.”
  • He didn’t have time to register how panicked he should be, but the small blonde didn’t seem like someone his father would hire, and his stern command didn’t sound even remotely as threatening as Romero or Malcolm. Even so, Neil calmly set his water bottle in the sticky cup holder and gripped the steering wheel with both hands. “Who are you?”
  • The blonde suddenly rounded on him, his elbow coming up to Neil’s neck and applying pressure before he could even think about reacting. Neil faintly registered the familiar feeling of a knife pressed against his stomach, not quite puncturing the skin. “It doesn’t matter. You see those cops?”
  • Neil followed the blonde’s head tilt to the back window, where he noticed a few cop cars idling behind him in the gas station parking lot. Neil looked back at his captor and nodded as much as he was allowed, which wasn’t much.
  • “I don’t want to be caught by them, and judging by the state of your clothes and the fact that you aren’t even slightly tanned even though your license plate says Arizona, you don’t want to be caught either.”
  • It was a stretch, but Neil certainly didn’t want to spend the night in a police cell anytime soon. He could easily explain away the few accusations the blonde hit him with, but right now he just wanted to be far away from the cops now exiting their vehicles.
  • He tapped the blonde on the arm, “I can’t drive with a knife in my stomach.”
  • He was let go, but the knife remained poised between them. Neil admired the sleek design of it, definitely not something Lola would use, but the serrated edges were sharpened enough to filet a small pig. He shook his head to dismantle the direction of his thoughts and put the car in gear, tires squealing as he peeled out of the gas station parking lot. To his surprise, the policemen didn’t even glance at his vehicle as he pulled onto the nearest two-lane highway. He lowered his speed so he wasn’t breaking any laws, but kept his hand hovering over the gear shift.
  • “I locked the bathroom door and then snuck out the window. They’ll probably be occupied for at least another ten minutes.”
  • “That depends on how smart Columbia cops are,” Neil murmured, doing a few quick calculations in his head. There were three cop cars, two of which were just small city patrollers. The one he was most concerned with was the SUV with California printed on the license plate. Just what exactly did this kid do that warranted the arrival of an out of state cop?
  • “You’re right. 20 minutes.”
  • Neil shifted subtly in his seat to study his companion, who had slouched down and propped his legs on the passenger-side airbag. A study of nonchalance and apathy. “So what did you do?”
  • The kid didn’t answer him for awhile, keeping his eyes forward and expression blank. Neil had almost dropped the subject when the blonde suddenly spoke up, “Turns out cops don’t like it when you escape from their idea of rehabilitation.”
  • Neil considered this as he switched lanes, passing a semi truck who insisted on driving five miles under the speed limit. So the kid was either an escaped convict or an escaped mental patient. Great.
  • “Truth for a truth. What are you doing so far from home, Arizona?”
  • Neil wanted to laugh at the nickname, but he couldn’t find much humor in his current situation. “My mom was relocated for her job. I was on my way to school when you so eloquently barged in on my morning commute.”
  • “Hmmm you seem to think we’re playing truth for a lie.” The blonde didn’t show any hints of anger, but Neil eyed the knife he held over the center console all the same. “Distasteful game. Very one-sided.”
  • Neil rolled his eyes and gripped the steering wheel even harder. The kid was smarter than he originally thought. “I ran away from Arizona. Turns out fathers aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.” Maybe he could give away half-truths and hope for the best.
  • He watched as the blonde digested this information. He didn’t know how long their game would last, but he knew that this car ride wouldn’t end very well. He eyed his duffel bag, tucked away next to the gas pedal at his feet, his mother’s gun safely hidden underneath piles of carefully folded clothes. 
  • “Duly noted. Your turn.” The kid motioned with his knife for Neil to continue the game.
  • “Name?”
  • “Andrew. Yours?”
  • “Neil.”
  • “Either you’re used to switching names or you’re actually telling the truth.” Andrew mused while he adjusted the air conditioning.
  • “Glad that I can maintain your faith in humanity.” Neil quipped, swatting Andrew’s hand away from the dial and turning it back the way he had it. “Jail or mental hospital?”
  • “Neither. Juvie.”
  • Neil considered the blonde beside him. He really didn’t know what type of crimes warranted juvie over actual jail, but kidnapping an unsuspecting teenager at a gas station was probably up there on the list of federal offenses.
  • “Got any family left?”
  • Neil suddenly craved a cigarette. “Some. No siblings. You?”
  • “A twin. It was a recent development in my familial drama, so I wouldn’t delve too deep.”
  • Neil wasn’t planning on it.
  • They went on like that for about 30 miles, Neil giving Andrew half-truths about his past and his time in Millport, and Andrew hinting very sarcastically about a less than satisfactory time in juvie. Neil took every other exit on the highway, winding them through dilapidated towns with no real destination in mind. It was a learned behavior, but it came in handy in cases like these.
  • Narrator: it was at this point that @minyavd had @minyardfluff read the headcanon to decide how to end it.
  • Narrator: she did not, in fact, end it

hey guys! I know it’s been a minute since my last masterpost and this one has been sitting in my drafts for editing even though it’s still poop lmao but I missed two weeks of school in late March and early April for college tours, so I really had to practice time management. I needed to study for AP tests, finals and do any other coinciding work I was assigned. Because of this, I thought I could share some of the tips I used to survive.

1. determine what you need to do prior to your trip

  • doing this will help you organize (and properly pack) your materials that you’ll have to bring with you to study or to complete your assignments. notify your teachers of your absence at least 2 weeks in advance so they can prepare the work for you to take with you. write a list of all the topics/assignments you have to do while you’re gone so you can just have a basic overview AND feel less overwhelmed.

2. reasonably plan out your work for the duration of your trip

  • okay so you can either 1) do all of your work before your trip or 2) spread it out throughout the duration of your trip. now, I personally had a SHIT TON of work so there was no way in HELLLL I was gonna be able to do it all before I left. SOOOO I used my bullet journal to plan out what I was going to do and when. If you already know the itinerary for your trip, try to plan your work around the things you have planned but THE KEY TO THIS IS: BE REALISTIC. If you’re going to Cancun, don’t plan to write 3 pages of your paper the day you arrive, okay? just break your work up into manageable pieces and your mind will be at more ease.
  • and remember, if you don’t follow your plan exactly, its okaaaay! I didn’t follow mine exactly but the only thing that matters is that you do it.  

3. bring things that motivate you/help you work efficiently

  • honestly, I cannot study or do homework without music. it makes me wanna shoot myself. SO prior to your trip (if you don’t already have these), create playlists of music that helps you focus or just a playlist that you could see yourself working to on a daily basis. bring things to help you relax during your study/homework breaks. during my breaks, I usually stretch or something.

I know this isn’t much but I was just thinking that this might be able to help you guys out in the future! If you have any masterpost suggestions, questions, or just wanna talk, feel free to send me asks or pm’s

“Honesty is a bad habit of mine”: Jean’s Honesty in Attack on Titan, Part 1

So a partial draft of this has been sitting in my documents for a few weeks now, but today feels like a relatively timely moment to post it because of two things that have happened recently: Jean’s character song “Rusty Honesty” has been released and—as @imperfecteclipse informed me!— last Sunday was apparently national honesty day! So let’s talk about Jean’s most defining trait!

Jean’s attempt to persuade Armin and Reiner to assist him in stalling the Female Titan, Chapter 23.

In an interview published with the first volume of Attack on Titan in English, Isayama states that Jean is his favorite character in the series because, “Jean comes right out and says what he’s thinking, even if it’s something you normally couldn’t say. That’s what I like about him.” However, many characters within the manga don’t find Jean’s forthrightness quite as endearing. Shadis, for instance, compares Jean’s personality to “a drawn sword, which tends to create conflict” (chapter 18) and Jean himself calls honesty his “bad habit” (chapter 15). It’s a personality trait—or perhaps we should say personality commitment—with consequences, often putting him at odds with others because his observations make them uncomfortable.

What I find fascinating about Attack on Titan is that Jean is never, at any point of the narrative, asked to totally give up this “bad habit”: instead, his honesty—which often takes the form of dissent—is presented as a potential asset, particularly to his development as a future leader within the Corps. In the early chapters, his honesty gives way to cynical defeatism and apathy, but over time he develops it into a tool of productive critique. He never quite assimilates comfortably into the Survey Corps, working instead to keep them on their toes. He reminds both the Survey Corps and the reader of the stakes involved in fighting the titans, wondering what it means to achieve “the greater good” at such high costs.  

It’s a trait that, when used to actively question the world order rather than just passively observe it, makes Jean dangerous. And I’ve decided to talk about it in two parts, because pulling it apart and looking at in depth has proven to be quite an undertaking, haha. This part will focus on Jean’s honesty in the early narrative (and what he means when he terms himself an honest man) and part two will explore how it assists his development as a leader up through the Return to Shiganshina arc.

As is the case with pretty much all of my Jean metas, this reading of his role in the series is entirely dependent on the manga. As I have argued here, the anime’s characterization of Jean is quite different, which significantly alters his role in the narrative.

More under the cut!

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If Yuuri had retired after 1st GPF
  • Yuri: Hey. I'm competing in the men's senior division next year.
  • Yuri: We don't need two Yuris in the same bracket.
  • Yuri: Incompetents like you should just retire already.
  • Yuri: MORON!
  • A month later:
  • New articles show "Katsuki's Grand Fail at Japanese Nationals" and "Skater Katsuki Announces He's Retiring"
  • -Yuri flips on TV interview-
  • Yuuri: At the Grand Prix Final, I realized there were younger skaters more talented than me. That's why I decided to retire.
  • -Yuri flips off TV-
  • Yuri: MORON! I can't believe you fucking retired. That's it. I'm going to Japan!

Mystic Messenger x Rune Factory AU Rune Messenger? Mystic Factory?

For those who don’t know, Rune Factory is a farming/dungeon-crawling/dating simulation; literally a fantasy Harvest Moon

In the tradition of RF protagonists, MC winds up in a town disoriented and with amnesia. With no recollection of what brought her to town or her life beforehand, she is allowed to live on the farm that once belonged to Rika, who disappeared two years ago. Despite her amnesia, she is a hard worker and is looking forward to creating new memories with the townspeople.

anonymous asked:

zombie apocalypse kacchan x deku pls

They move under the cover of dusk, arms laden with this week’s raid. Katsuki’s been on enough runs that he can navigate the streets with his eyes closed, but for all that they’ve been living this way long enough for him to have gotten used to moving like this, Midoriya still trips over his own two feet when they go out for runs. And he does it far too much for Katsuki’s liking.

“You dumb fuck,” Katsuki snarls, gripping his blasters tighter as they run. There’s a cut stretching down his arm, jagged and angry and red, from where a walker with a particularly nasty quirk caught him from behind, and the pain is jarring enough that it makes him kind of want to punch something, but that would require stopping; mostly Katsuki just doesn’t want to get eaten.  

“Sorry about that”. Even in the dark, Katsuki can pinpoint the exact moment Midoriya’s mouth curls up into an apologetic smile, reminiscent of how easy things used to be, before it stills back into something harder, grim. Immersed under the white light of the moon, Midoriya looks very young. He doesn’t look afraid, even as they duck into an alley and come face to face with three walkers, even as he uses his quirk to take out two of them at once—only tense. Midoriya jerks his chin roughly in the remaining walker’s direction, eyes flicking to Katsuki briefly, and then away again. “That one’s all yours”.

“Quit fucking telling me what to do,” Katsuki snaps, but it’s offhanded, automatic, more out of habit than anything else. Midoriya looks like he might say something more, but then the walker howls at them, a shifting mess of flesh and bone, and shuffles forward, arms outstretched. There are tendrils of smoke curling around it’s ankles, snaking down the floor and moving towards Katsuki, and briefly, he despairs at how, in situations like this, his quirk is all but useless, more of a liability than anthing else—Katsuki knows Aizawa’s words by heart now. He’s been reprimanded enough times for him to actually start taking said advice into account, even when he’s tempted not to. And so—

Katsuki quells the tingling in his palms into something duller, goes for the knife tucked into his belt instead and moves.

There’s a smirk on his face when he lunges, twisting around in the air for a moment before sinking the knife into the walker’s skull. It snarls at him once, twice, teeth snapping, before finally quieting down, the shadows on its ankles withering down into nothing. Katsuki can’t quite help the grin he throws over his shoulder, all teeth. “Now if that wasn’t that most brutal thing you’ve ever seen—”

“I’ve seen all your moves remember?” Midoriya says, lip quirking, but it’s easy to see that he’s distracted, intent as he is at staring at a point somewhere above Katsuki’s head. Katsuki doesn’t have to look behind him to see what Midoriya must be seeing; he feels, rather than sees, the movement from behind: a couple of walkers shuffling forwards in their direction—not quite big enough to be a horde, but large enough that he and Midoriya won’t come out of it unscathed if they tried to engage.

Apparently, they hadn’t been quick enough—or quiet enough to not draw attention. Katsuki knows these streets by heart now, and there’s nothing down the alley but a dead end. Swearing, he pulls out his gun, but Midoriya shakes his head at him, not even bothering with his. Instead Midoriya’s crouched over the manhole he’s been standing over in a heartbeat, sliding the cover off and peering down into the immense darkness. They don’t partner up for runs, as an unspoken rule, but there’s no denying that Midoriya’s quicker out on the streets than he is anywhere else, no less jittery than before, but steadier, surer of himself—and just this once, Katsuki can appreciate that. Midoriya eyes snap up to meet his for a moment, and then he’s looking away again as he hoists himself down, disappearing into the shadows. His arm shoots out a moment later, stretched out for Katsuki to take. Katsuki is tempted snap at him again, to slap his hand away and remind him that he’s been on more raids and can handle himself just fucking fine, but there’s no time for petty grievances when they’re about to have their insides ripped out.

“Come on,” Midoriya’s voice whips up to him, equal parts impatient and panicked. Katsuki snarls out a response, shoots out a couple of rounds at the walkers for good measure, and even though Midoriya can’t see, Katsuki still makes a show of rolling his eyes before reaching for his hand.

Wrestling Week!

hello, keyara here, this has been sitting in my drafts for 7 months now because i was waiting for the perfect week to do this. that week would’ve been the week leading up to wrestlemania but i had forgotten about this post, whoops. anyway!!! for the week of 7/24-730 create edits and gifs for each respective day listed below!! it’s also not restricted to one promotion, so go wild. be sure to tag your edits with #wrestlingweek!!! 

Day One: Favorite male wrestler
Day Two: Favorite female wrestler
Day Three: Favorite promo
Day Four: Favorite wrestling promotion
Day Five: Favorite match
Day Six: Favorite tag team/stable 
Day Seven: Favorite moment in wrestling

Shut In

Summary: After walking in on Holster and April, Ransom knows the best way to preserve their friendship is to avoid ever being alone with him again. Unfortunately the team has other plans.
Word count: ~3,000
Rating: Explicit
A/N: I just found out this is Ransom week, so I figured this is a perfect time for me to actually finish this since it’s been sitting in my drafts forever. 

Holster is annoying and beautiful and smart and had hooked up with April at a party two weeks ago and Ransom hates him. When Ransom had gone upstairs nearly an hour after Holster had disappeared into the depths of the kegster with April, he didn’t notice the hastily thrown sock that was on the floor instead of the doorknob. He’d opened the door to his and Holster’s shared bedroom and for six excruciatingly long seconds neither Holster nor April noticed. 

Holster’s head was thrown back in pleasure as April rode him, hips undulating against hers as breathy little moans escaped her mouth. Ransom should’ve said something - he should’ve backed away and closed the door - he should’ve done anything other than stand there like an idiot until someone noticed him. Holster groaned at a particularly vigorous thrust and twisted his head to the side, eyes widening as they caught Ransom’s. 

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Quakerider Stranded Survival AU

When the aircraft he is flying in crashes on a remote, uninhabited island in the tropics, Robbie Reyes soon discovers he is one of only two survivors. The other is Daisy Johnson, an attractive, sharp-tongued young woman who seems far more secretive and shady than the average stranger. Despite their mistrust, the two work together in order to survive their harsh, unusual situation until rescue arrives.

Their days of waiting for rescue quickly turn into weeks as both Robbie and Daisy start to lose hope of ever going home. Still, as the two grow closer, they start to think maybe being stranded alone together for the rest of their lives on this island may not be such a bad fate after all .  . . ?