this is not even half decent

fancy-hat-cat  asked:

Guilty of a Sailor's mouth! (Someone had to say it~)

“Fuckin’ curse like a bloody sailor?! They’s don’t even got shit on me, yeah?! Fuckin’ cunts couldn’t fuckin’ flap their fucking gaping faceholes in a half decent fucking string of words. Naw, we bastards from the Shroud curse fucking circles around them fucking muck sucking cockbites. NOT FUCKING GUILTY.”

(Wait, can only respond with Guilty or Not Guilty. I GUESS I CAN READ.)

anonymous asked:

dark rc would you please consider writing about how victor (and the rest of the Russian skate team) had a feud with the Russian hockey team bc of their constant flirting and attentions towards yuuri (who was completely oblivious at the war waging for his heart)??

This has been sitting in my inbox for over a month and I apologize for that, nonny! I wanted to try my hand at breaking through this writer’s block and this prompt was ripe for the taking. It’s not my best work by any stretch, but it’s something at least! I hope you enjoy.

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There are few things that give Yuri pleasure—the taste of accomplishment like cinnamon sugar on the back of his tongue after landing a quad; having a comeback so cutting that he practically draws blood; that soft murrf a cat makes when it decides it trusts him; the little green screenshot arrow appearing next to Otabek’s name in Snapchat—but they all pale in comparison to whenever the Russian hockey team visits the rink.

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Okay because they don’t get enough love on the show here are Kevin x Joaquin headcanons

Joaquin sneaks through Kevin’s window to bring him gifts without the sheriff realising. Kevin finds flowers on his desk at least once a week

Kevin has to hide the fact that through Joaquin he knows a few serpents and criminals. He’ll visit his dad at the station and try not to get recognised by the few serpents who he’s been introduced to

Joaquin and Jughead know each other through Jug’s dad and Joaquin finds himself talking a lot about Kev without even realising it because he’s proud of his boyfriend and ‘hey did I tell you about Kevin…’ and Jughead just can’t escape the relationship drama

Kevin gets dragged to a few bad places by Joaquin and just freaks out a little because he’s pretty sure half the people in these bars look like they wanna skin him alive and Joaquin finds his worrying adorable.

Finding decent places to hang out is so hard. They can’t at Kev’s house because of his dad and Joaquin hangs out at bad places and Pops would be too easy for Veronica to spy from another booth or for someone to recognise one of them and tell someone. Hotels are usually easiest.

Joaquin keeps trying to keep Kevin out of serious harm with the serpents. If someone suggests going after the sheriff or using Kevin to get info, he’ll immediately change subjects or suggest another plan. He knows they think using Kev is the endgame of the relationship but Joaquin is genuinely happy with Kevin and wants to be with him as long as possible. And God forbid someone try and come near HIS man

Kevin finds it SO HARD to keep this stuff a secret. Finally an openly gay guy who’s not only gorgeous but likes him back?! He of course can’t resist giving details to Veronica and Betty. It’s not even like they ask he just goes ‘fINE I HAVE A BF HIS NAME IS JOAQUIN AND HES BEAUTIFUL ’

Joaquin works on Andrews construction with Jug’s dad so he can find a subtle way to see Kevin. The others keep teasing him for going soft.

Kevin has one of Joaquin’s serpent jackets hidden at home. He breaks it out when his dad is out of the house or when Joaquin is stuck on business and can’t call. Somehow it makes him feel safer

Joaquin watches Kevin without him realising. There’s a killer on the loose and though Kevin would say he was fine. Joaquin wouldn’t let anyone get near his boyfriend. It’s this that makes him realise how bad he’s fallen for him and how guilty he feels for what the serpents might make him do

Once they go on a walk and end up and they end up where Kevin found Jason’s body and Joaquin is there to help calm him when the memories come back.

Rhea learned to adjust almost perfectly to life on Earth AND immersed herself into some pretty heavy science stuff all within about a month and a half while Mon-El is still out there being the most obnoxious selfish stupid asshole after spending almost a year on the planet and being babysitted nonstop

the most important adult life-hack i can possibly share with you guys: roasting vegetables

so when i was a kid i hated vegetables because my parents used to boil them and boiled vegetables are disgusting but i recently discovered that roasting vegetables is the fuckin BOMB and i have a certain recipe that makes them even MORE bomb and it’s as follows

  1. get yer vegetables (i like to use brussles sprouts, broccoli, sweet potato, squash, beets, and lots and lots of KALE but you can use whatever tf you want, like carrots, bell peppers, cauliflower, etc)
  2. cut them into decently small pieces (like half an inch any which way at most. this will help them cook all the way through and become crispy af). also make sure you cut the broccoli or cauliflower (if you’re using it) into small florets. 
  3. spread them out on a baking sheet (which you should spread aluminum foil onto for easy clean-up) 
  4. make a mixture (depending on how many veggies you’re roasting) of coconut oil, smoked paprika, pepper, salt, and garlic powder. if you happen to have chipotle powder laying around, toss that in too. basically you want to stick it in the microwave and melt the coconut oil. you should have enough to lightly coat every single veggie. 
  5. now you’re gonna put your veggies in the oven on a rack decently close to the top at 375 for about 40 minutes. after this time, your veggies should be cooked, but you want them crispy, so you’re going to turn it up to about 450 for 15 more minutes. by this time you’ll have BEAUTIFUL CRISPY DELICIOUS ROASTED VEGGIES
  6. do not substitute the coconut oil. it’s the most important ingredient. unless you hate coconut then i guess you can. but trust me, it’s just… so fucking good. 
An Oath For Sinners, 2.

Part: One Part: TwoPart: ThreePart: Four (Finale)

Genre | Vampire / Escort AU.

Pairing | Min Yoongi / Reader.

Words | 14,872 words.

Conspectus | Min Yoongi needs some kind of hobby, a distraction much more sophisticated and preferably not so wholly illegal as blatant murder in order to satiate his esurient thirst and perdurable boredom.

But not even the dastard vampire himself thought he would find it in the bloodstream of a sightly girl who lives for diamonds in her pockets and Armani suits adorning her men.

Warnings | Surprise cameo by rich businessman Kim Taehyung. Mentions of blood and other vampire necessities. Brief explicit sexual content. Yoongi getting hard over trivial matters.

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Help (i need someone)

This was supposed to be a few paragraphs of “i had a thought” so of course it ended up over 1k. Oops?

I might write this eventually, i sort of wrote this already, but it’s not!fic style, I’ll be expanding it in the next few days, but if you get inspired, feel free to run with it, just tag me please!

So, you know how animals will occasionally seek help from humans? Like, a momma cat whose kittens are stuck in a drain pipe, or a raccoon who gets its paw trapped in a pop can, etc?

Think feral Derek who gets injured (either just after the fire he goes full shift feral or after finding Laura, or a random thing whatever, just he’s a wolf and has been for sometime now) and he gets injured. Caught in a trap or maybe he finds an injured thing, or maybe he’s stuck in a plastic ring thing that someone left behind from a picnic and he’s kind of forgotten how to be human, so he needs a hand, and so he howls for help.

Stiles has been hearing a wolf howling for weeks now, but when he mentions it is just met with “There are no wolves in California” but, you know our curious boy is not going to give up. So he’s been walking through the preserve investigating. He’s pretty sure he’s narrowed down where the wolf is living now, so when he hears a particularly urgent sounding howl, he’s in his Jeep and on the road before the sound is even finished echoing.

When he gets close to where he wants to turn into the preserve he sees a huge, black wolf, limping (or trying to get his attention, depending on whether Derek is injured, stuck, or being a good boy, er, Samaritan…).

So Stiles stops the car abruptly and, unthinking, leaps out of the car and runs toward the animal, practically skidding to a stop as he drops down in front of it, asking “What’s wrong, big guy, huh?” And Derek. Derek is momentarily stunned because this human just all but launched himself at him and that’s… not normal? Also, he smells really good (and familiar, definitely the human that’s been walking through the woods on the edges of his territory) and his hands that are absently petting Derek’s fur and checking for injuries feel really nice, and it’s all kind of jumbled in his head because he’s been running mostly on instinct for a while, and what he really wants to do is push his nose into the human’s neck and scent him and then push him over onto the ground and curl up around him.

But. He had a reason for venturing out of the relative safety of the woods. He needed help.

So he manages to communicate to the boy whatever it is that he needs, and Stiles obliges (i don’t know what’s cuter, some ridiculous litter caught around him or him leading Stiles to some trapped kittens) and then Stiles convinces the big wolf to get in his car (not that it takes much, Derek really wants to go with him) and takes him home, gets him clean and dry, figures out how to explain it to his dad…

Stiles finds the wolf curled up around his pillow (you can’t blame Derek, it smelled so good, okay) and after unsuccessfully trying to convince him to move to the end of the bed, gives up and lies down next to him with a grumbled “listen dude, i know you understand me, you did everything else i asked you to do, even let me give you a bath, which even dogs don’t do calmly. You’re not a normal wolf, buddy” to which Derek replies with a huff and a nuzzle at Stiles’ hand demanding to be pet as he apologizes. As Stiles scratches Derek’s head lightly, the truth of what he said hits him: this is not a normal wolf.

As he falls asleep, he’s already thinking about what to research in the morning.

He convinces his dad he’s fostering the wolf-dog for Dr Deaton, Scott’s boss at the vet clinic, and John quickly grows to enjoy the giant “dog” he even encourages him to sit with him while he reads over case files and half watches the game. As the days pass and he spends more time with the incredibly obedient wolf, who responds and reacts more like a human than an animal, and he does more and more digging into lore and local history, he starts to think he’s got it figured out.

They’ve been arguing about names, because Stiles needs something to call him. So far, the wolf has grouched about all nicknames (dude gets an especially emphatic unhappy sound) and done a decent canine version of an eye roll at a series of popular dog names. After a couple weeks, Stiles sits down in front of the wolf and pets him, holds his face with both hands and scritches behind his ears.

“Hey pal. I think I’ve figured out what to call you, but i need you to promise you won’t get mad like when i suggested Balto,okay? And i need you to promise you won’t like, run away or rip my throat out with those impressively big teeth of yours, yeah?”

Derek tilts his head in the best unimpressed agreement he can muster as a wolf (and he’s been having a hard time staying as a wolf lately, he wants to know what Stiles’ hands he’ll like on his skin and talk to John about baseball. He’s starting to remember what being human feels like. He’s even woken up half shifted a few times, human arms wrapped around Stiles and the beat of his heart under his fingertips, a growing ache in his chest).

“I think,” Stiles sighs and bumps his forehead against Derek’s. “I think i should be calling you Derek.” Stiles holds his breath and Derek freezes then tries to pull away, shaking his head as he feels the wolf falling away. “Derek, please, please stay calm, it’s okay. I know what happened, i get it. Please. ”

And Stiles’ hands are splayed and there’s no stutter in his heart beat, and his voice is quiet and pleading, so Derek stops fighting, stops holding onto the wolf, lets the shift fall away until it’s just him, kneeling uncertainly on Stiles’ bedroom floor. He takes a deep breath before he can meet Stiles’ eyes, when he does they both gasp a little, each struck by the beauty of the other, and Stiles in awe at the transformation he’s witnessed: the confirmation of the supernatural overwhelming, but not as overwhelming as the man crouched in front of him.

As a wolf, Derek had become a best friend of sorts; a faithful companion and confidant, even as Stiles began to suspect his true nature, he still felt safe telling him all his secrets.

After a long moment staring at each other, a grin spreads across Stiles’ face. “Hi.”

Derek swallows hard and manages a rough sounding “Hi” his vocal chords no longer accustomed to the shape of words.

Eventually, after looking at each other with soft smiles, Stiles momentarily holding in a million questions, Derek growing used to the way his body and his mind feel when he’s human, they get up. Stiles moves close and reaches a hand up to feel Derek’s face, repeating a soft “Hi” around an even softer grin, Derek leans into the touch and it’s easy to drift together to the bed. Stiles gets Derek some pyjama pants and tries not to look as he changes before sitting beside him, their hands lacing together easily as they talk for hours, falling asleep briefly until the sound of John’s car wakes them.

Stiles tells his dad the dog had to go back to Deaton and they both mourn his loss, John starts talking about getting a new dog. After a couple days of hiding Derek, Stiles introduces him to the Sheriff as a human. They get along even better than before, much to everyone’s relief. (They probably spin a story about Derek’s apartment flooding or something a few days later to get John to offer the spare room, because hiding a full grown man is hard, and Derek isn’t ready to be a person around other people yet. When Stiles has visitors he hides)

It takes time, but Derek grows comfortable in his skin again, and after they’ve known each other many months as people, they go from being Derek and Stiles to DerekandStiles and it’s as easy as it ever was for them to curl around each other, whisper secrets and fall asleep to rhythm of one another’s heartbeat.

Punk (Chap. 5)


Summary: You’re head over heels for your best friend Bucky and hate the nickname he gave you as it doesn’t exactly scream romance.

Word count: 2942

Warnings: Same as always

A/N:  FYI on Chap. 4 I had to go back and make a minor change bc of a continuity error.  Bucky’s hair is short (think TJ Hammond style) in this fic and i slipped up an put in a man-bun note (it’s my weakness). Sorry!  Now, back to the story….



Abandoning Wanda in your closet to hunt through the mass of new clothes you’d unceremoniously shoved in there earlier, you raced down the floor towards Nat’s room, ready to call the whole night off after that disaster of a dinner.  You rounded the corner and attempted to stop short but your socks had no grip and you crashed into a wall of muscle.  “Sorry, Sam,” you mumbled.  “You okay?” Sam laughed and steadied you back on your feet.

You heard Bucky snort from behind and winced. Great, he’d just seen you stuff your face full of Chow Mein and apple pie and now he caught you hurdling down the hallway like the giant boulder from Indiana Jones.  “He’s fine,” Bucky clapped him on the back.  “Not even you could crack this thick skull.”  

And with that he pulled Sam’s sweatshirt hood over his eyes and gave him a noogie before guffawing like a doofus and racing past you with Sam hot on his heels.

“Ay yo!  What the hell’s that mean?!” he hollered.  “And don’t touch my hair, man!”  Sam’s voice carried down the hallway as he chased your best friend.  A loud thud and muffled ‘ooof’ confirmed that he’d caught up to him and apparently rugby tackled him in the living room.

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Birthday boy

A one shot with a surprise birthday party and a sub Harry

WARNING: SMUT

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Pajamas

Originally posted by charrytommoto

Yoongi x reader

Genre: Fluff, romance

AU: best friend!AU x Jungkook

Warnings: Suggestive language, swearing

Words: 4170

Author/admin: HO

Beta: FeeFee

Request:

Anonymous said to kpop-reads: Your best friend, Jungkook, text invites you over to the BTS dorm and says it’s fine that you’re only wearing pjs cause he knows it’ll fluster his Yoongi hyung 

Author’s note: I wasn’t going to write anything for this blog and just remain a Beta. But this request was too good to pass up. Thanks for the glorious idea!

Summary:
In which your best friend has his friends’ best interests at heart, despite being a little shit.

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And I know that my poetry usually makes no sense, it’s a thing called love that compels us to keep reading. Would you care to know why my favorite color is red? I used to have a friend named Kevin and it was his favorite color. He was the flamboyant and most colorful of us in the group. Popular with the ladies and loyal to his friends. I was the one in the backseat laughing to their thoughts when I really had none of my own. Maybe that’s why I enjoy writing so much. Maybe that’s why I love the color red. He painted his room red once, I remember things changing right around then. The drugs were getting a little heavier even with his teenage youth, the drugs will rip right through you. Painkillers will kill your emotions, you don’t want to feel a thing. I can relate to Kevin, I fucking love painkillers too. I shut myself off from everyone, but occasionally I enjoy the company. I’m awkward and my thoughts are kinda dim, so I always liked being around him. Are you familiar with the literary term foil? A foil is a character who contrasts with another character in order to highlight particular qualities of the other character. I feel like he was like that for me. I always saw myself as a little too blue, I wanted to be something worth loving, I wanted to be a little more like him, I want to kiss life into everything, I wanted to live, I wanted to be more than a shadow of a group of peers that did drugs and listened to melancholy and nostalgic techno after school hours. I don’t know how he’s doing or what he’s up to. The last thing I heard was he’s into needles now. Rumors plague this tiny town, we were raised from imperfections and we grew up to taste cigarettes that numb our gums. He had the kind of laugh that made you want to be his friend. It’s funny though, none of my friends initially liked me. Until they got to know me, empty and hollow, a sponge– the one who listened to the problems, never really any of my own. I get lost in my thoughts, I know. My poetry is scattered, I know. I don’t convey structure or rhymes, I don’t hide in between the rules. My words are more scribbles than they are truly masterpieces. Would you like to know why I write? I used to know someone that said the shoreline was like a bed and naps were always possible– she waited there everyday for inspiration. She would tell me the tiny stories inside of her head that had nowhere to go, it’s funny. I never really listened to her, I just enjoyed the company of love and to be loved. Love, what is it? When I wrote my first poem for her, I didn’t know where it came from or why I wanted to write it. I just knew that I had to write it. It had to be done. I had to read it to her. Let me tell you, if your first poem was a love poem, it was probably the most cringe thing you’ve ever created. Ever. Period. But still, I loved it. It was bad, but it had feelings. You always miss the feeling more than you do the person and that’s the saddest thing I’ve ever had to realize. It really shouldn’t be, but it is. You never really understand your mistakes until it’s just you. You only want them back when you’re alone. It’s been so long, I don’t keep track of the days anymore. Hell, she’s married now. I shouldn’t be writing this. She’s going to read it anyway. It doesn’t matter at this point. I guess she left poetry inside of these palms for good measure, she loved attention. A lot of it. The more, the better. Maybe I stopped paying attention. Maybe I got too comfortable. Maybe that’s why I love writing poetry, in a way it just means that I still love her. Lost kids who didn’t know how to love, another foil. You know, I never really liked to read books until I met her. She had a smile made from your doggy eared books, you know, your favorite line you always had to reread or quote during a conversation. She had the kind of laugh that made you want to get in on the joke even though you were the one telling it. I loved that laugh almost as much as I loved Kevin’s. I don’t talk to these two anymore, I don’t remember much about the memories, only the feelings that they left. You can’t find loyalty amongst pill users, they always use. Trust me, I know. I’ve been swearing off painkillers for months. You won’t find a love like that again because every relationship is unique in its own way. You can’t recreate the old flames with your new ones. You need to move on. I haven’t really lived life. Maybe you’re just like me. Maybe you’re stuck at a job that you don’t like and maybe life just doesn’t make much sense. So you blackhole more drugs to ease the disaster that is you. Nothing hurts, you just don’t want to remember anything that might hurt– right? It really shouldn’t be, but it is. I listen to music more often than I converse with people. Music influences my soul in a way that people cannot. I just turned 24, but I’m still a little confused about who I am. Does any 24 year old have their shit figured out? Do you ever feel like your dreams and aspirations are slowly dying? I’ve always felt like an old man. I’m boring and I don’t dance too much, the only thing good about me is my writing. It’s the only thing I’m half decent at, but I hate that too. I don’t answer anonymous questions anymore because I feel like my thoughts aren’t good enough. How can I help you if I can’t even help myself? Red rose petal poetry pressed onto the stove kind of writing– it really shouldn’t hurt, but it does. I’ll always miss the days when things were simpler. I didn’t care as much. I didn’t smoke as much. I didn’t think as much. It was just simple. No hard facts, just some stupid kids getting high behind a dark house and running into ghosts in every room. No broken hearts, just some teenagers who wanted to figure love out with a knife in hand waiting to hug each other. I’ll pry the knife real slow and we’ll call it love kind of love, ain’t it love? I love you doesn’t even sound right anymore, so I’ll say nothing. I miss my old friends, but we’ve changed so much– I wonder if they’ll even recognize me. My life is insignificant and minuscule, but we must all seek to find our purpose, to bring meaning to the clutter, and to add more fire to the chaos that is life. I don’t want to die angry, I want to die with a smile. You don’t get to do anything twice, you don’t get to correct your mistakes– so make enough for your self-reflection drunk nights. You don’t get to unlove people, so pick the right ones to fall in love with– don’t worry, you won’t need to remember all of their names, just the feelings. You don’t get to unfriend people, they’ll always be a part of you. A part of who you are. A part of who you will come to be. I keep slipping into the darkest parts of my mind and call it a life. I’ve been reading this book and it told me to dig deep. Why do I write? Why do I enjoy the burn of love? Over a few thousand poems, but 99.9 percent are indeed about love. Why do you want this kind of life? Well, darling– These words are as much yours as they are mine.
—  zero point one
Modern headcanons

Yooooo but just imagine

Christine with a beautiful Instagram and every picture gets a ridiculous amount of likes

Meg getting into sassy twitter roasts on the daily

Erik using Nadir’s social media because he wouldn’t be caught dead making his own accounts

Nadir suspecting something is wrong with his social media accounts because he’s suddenly following random people / pages

Raoul with a generic Facebook account and nothing much on it, he’s not that into social media

Meg and Christine with a vlogging YouTube channel that has a pretty decent following

Erik always being up to date with the latest tech and news

Nadir sneaking photos of Erik and half jokingly threatening to post them

Said photos being deleted by Erik

And Erik has a Snapchat just to keep tabs on everyone, including Nadir,Christine, and even little Meg.
Can you imagine him angrily staring at his phone watching Nadir’s story like “It’s 4 in the bloody morning why are you STILL OUT”

“IS THAT CHRISTINE TOO?”

Memento Mori: Letterman Jacket

Jeff x Reader

Reader reminisce on the past as she deals with the present.

Warning: Angst, I guess? Nothing really.

Characters Mentioned: Alex Standall, Jessica Davis, Hannah Baker, Sheri Holland, Clay Jensen, Montgomery de la Cruz and Bryce Walker 

Words: 3180

A/N: This ended up longer than it should be. Set in both the past and present. There are notes and lines, I hope it’s not confusing. Sorry for the mistakes and the lame summary.

You look down at the flask in your hand, a pinkish coloration appears with every drop but rapidly dissipates the moment you swirl it. Slowly, your mind wanders thinking of all the different scenarios that could transpire in your upcoming date with Jeff. It was going to be your first with him, he had asked you out when you went to meet him and Clay at the library for your usual study sessions. And as fate would have, it just so happens that Clay suddenly had an errand to do leaving you and Jeff alone. You were soon brought back to your task when your lab partner shook your arm.

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