this is what i've been working on for the past several days

So I decided to do an animatic of what was probably my favorite Klance moment of season 3. I was originally going to do screencap redraws but I realized that those wouldn’t do this whole scene justice lmao

How I ship Gency:

I like to think that Angela is a kind but very very tired soul that continues to push herself beyond her limits for the good of humanity. She’s constantly trying to improve medical science and works long hours to make it happen. She will sometimes go days without sleep on the job and forget to eat. Over the years, it has made her jaded - almost dead inside. But she does what she must.

One day, a body is rushed to her by Blackwatch all the way from Japan. She has never seen this man - or what’s left of him - before, but he’s obviously very important to Overwatch’s interests if he was rushed to her to be saved. So she begins the grueling process of breathing life back into his body. Thanks to the advances in medicine that she has pioneered, she is able to save the miraculous, weak heartbeat in him. Regardless, she still works for months slowly rebuilding him and salvaging any organic parts possible. All the while he is comatose.

The first time he awakens, he is disoriented, angry, and violent. Angela has to call for back up to restrain him so she can explain where he is, what has happened, and that he is safe. Gabriel Reyes enters during this time. Reyes doesn’t beat around the bush. He tells the man - Shimada Genji - that he was saved because they need his knowledge of the Shimada clan in order to dismantle it - that he will be instrumental in taking down his family business. Angela is horrified. She’d never been told to what end Overwatch needed this man - only that he held valuable information. She only guessed who or what he could be. Perhaps an important diplomat or undercover agent - but not an outsider. Not someone who would be in their debt for life. Her operations on him were costly. There was no way Overwatch would do that and expect nothing in return. Though they worked for the safety of the world - Angela knew they were not a charity.

She shoots a piercing glare in Reyes’ direction - saying silently, “This is NOT what I signed up for! We WILL talk about this later!” Reyes ignores her look. He waits for Shimada’s response. The man is silent. Thinking. After a pregnant pause, his gaze crawls up to their faces and a chill runs through Angela’s spine.

“I could be more than just information,” he says with seething rage boiling in his eyes. Reyes lifts an eyebrow. Angela can’t breathe. Shimada continues, “It would be my pleasure to assist in destroying my brother’s empire.” His lips curl at the word brother.

Reyes and Shimada exchange hard stares at one another. Reyes is the first to speak. “What are you asking, boy?”

“Let me personally assist on this project. On the field. I know more secrets than just the business of the empire - and how to exploit them. I am already a trained fighter with extensive experience in stealth and… Other fields of interest to your organization.” The menace in his gaze reveals that he speaks the truth.

Angela leaves abruptly. She doesn’t need to look at Reyes to know that he will accept Shimada’s offer. She is so very tired.

She assists in Shimada’s recovery. She fine-tunes his motor skills. She helps him learn to walk again. She helps familiarize him with his new functions… She refuses to comply with Blackwatch’s request to integrate weaponry into his cybernetic body. She hates weapons. She hates violence - it’s what stole her parents from her in the war. She has only ever killed in battle when absolutely necessary and in self-defense, and she has no intention of making instrument of death.

They confiscate her medical files on Shimada-san. She is told she will no longer be his overseeing doctor. She does not see him for a long time.

She cannot help but worry about him. She spent months caring for him in his most vulnerable state, yet here he is working for Blackwatch with cybernetic weapons and enhancements. His new armor covers his face. She has not seen it since the day he awoke.

Over the years, she occasionally hears of strides made in the Shimada Empire Project. Inside jobs. Sabotage. Assassinations. She always thinks of Shimada-san.

Then everything goes to hell.

With the Swiss headquarters razed to the ground and Overwatch outlawed by the PETRAS Act, Angela is alone and so very tired. Overwatch and Blackwatch agents have scattered across the Earth, she among them. Despite the weight of the world on her shoulders, she can’t help but wonder in the back of her mind what Shimada will do now. His rage and bitterness had driven his actions since the day he was revived. Where would he go with no organization or project? She worries.

A year passes. She receives a letter - a hand-written letter?? It’s covered with postage and forwarding stamps to multiple addresses. It is from Shimada. The contents are awkward with apologies and abundant with reluctance at even writing to her. He is apparently staying with the Shambali monks in Nepal under the teachings of Zenyatta Tekhartha. He writes that Zenyatta insisted that he begin writing letters to someone in his life as a part of his healing process. Healing process? He ends the letter with an apology for bothering her.

“Healing process”… Her heart warms at the thought. She writes him back, expressing that she is not bothered by his letters and informing him of her current mailing address for future ones.

For the next three years she looks forward to every letter. She is still overworked. Still trying to better the world. Still so very tired. But his letters remind her that working to help others heal is valid and worth the pain. His transformation is gradual, but evident. At first he is guarded - only sharing bare minimum details of his lessons. As they exchange letters, however, she begins to see his walls crumble as he shares more personal thoughts and feelings. He even starts to inject wry humor into his script. She doesn’t know for certain, and maybe it could never truly be this way, but Angela believes she is getting to meet the man from before the fight with his brother. He asks that she refer to him by his first name, Genji, so that he is not reminded of the name he shares with his brother, Hanzo.

Genji still refers to her as Miss Ziegler.

The Overwatch recall blindsides her, yet she travels to Gibraltar as soon as possible… She knows where she belongs. She writes Genji from Gibraltar informing him of her new address. She does not receive a reply. She worries.

One day, several weeks after the recall, a stranger covered from head to toe in intricately designed garments appears on their doorstep, an omnic companion in tow. Winston greets them hesitantly, Angela unconsciously stands slightly behind the gorilla. The stranger stares past Winston and into Angela’s face, saying nothing at first. Several moments pass. The omnic places a hand on the man’s shoulder, and he seems to relax a bit. He is hesitating. Why? Slowly, the man lifts his hands to undo the headdress covering his face, all the while keeping his gaze locked on Angela.

A moment more passes as he unties the cloth around his head. Then all at once the headdress is off, leaving his face naked.

Rich brown eyes meet hers, steadied with courage. Pale, old scars marble his face, crawling upward and across his cheeks, nose, and lips. His mechanical jaw clenches in apprehension. His black hair is plastered to his forehead from the headdress he’d been wearing not long ago.

Angela cannot breathe as she looks upon the face that she has not seen since the day she revived him.

Genji.

She is hugging him before she realizes what she’s doing. His arms hover over her back, shock evident in his face. Pulling back and wiping joyful tears from her eyes, she apologizes for surprising him.“But,” she adds with a wry smile “you surprised me first! So we are even.”

The shock in his eyes melts into something softer that she cannot name. He chuckles. “I suppose you are right, Miss Ziegler.”

She feels a prick of annoyance at his formality, but quickly squashes it. After all, she’s just heard him laugh for the first time. She smiles genuinely. “You seem well, Genji.”

What passes across his expression can be described as nothing other than the purest of inner tranquility. The corners of his lips upturn just slightly. His gaze is soft, unguarded as he looks into her eyes. The shadows of the violent rage that boiled in his soul so many years ago are nowhere to be found. “I am a different man now. I am whole.”

Her heart squeezes. Tears blur her vision and she cannot help grinning as the joy for him thrums throughout her body. “…That is wonderful!” she manages.

She is the furthest thing from tired.

Sometimes people need to heal before love can blossom. Falling in love is not the cure-all. But loving others, building those relationships through the thick of it all - that is one of the most important bonds you can ever have.

16-year-old Yuri Plisetsky is a young noble. He’s pretty happy with his life - he’s the youngest son, so he’s not expected to take over the estate or shoulder any responsibilities. He just kinda…does whatever the hell he wants.

No one really knows where Yura is most of the time either. He just…sometimes disappears for weeks at a time, and no one really bothers to find out where he goes (visiting his best friend Otabek in the neighbouring kingdom).

No one really cares because Yura is not only the youngest son, he’s also a bastard.

He’s not really too upset. He’s made his peace with it. He’s never really gonna amount to anything in life. But then. Surprise surprise, turns out the man his mother had had an affair with was a cousin of the Queen mother.

The current king, 35-year-old Viktor Nikiforov, doesn’t have any heirs, with no plans to have any either, and so he decides to name his young cousin, Yura, as his heir.

And so, overnight, Yura finds his status in life completely changed, not that he’s complaining - don’t look a gift horse in the mouth and all that.

He’s all packed up and moved to the palace within a week.

But being a prince isn’t all fun and games, like his old life had been. He has new responsibilities to carry out and countless things to learn - from history and foreign policy, to swordplay and ballroom dancing. Yura takes to his new life like a fish to water - he finds he likes to learning about all these things, likes serving his country well as its future ruler.

The only thing that puts a damper on things is his new guardians - he quickly finds out that rumours of the king’s frosty relationship with his husband are 100% true. Though they may present a strong, united front to the public, it becomes immediately clear that Viktor and his consort, Yuuri Katsuki, the first prince and younger brother of the queen of Yutopia, can barely stand each other.

Viktor Nikiforov truly lives up to his reputation as the ice king - he’s always distant, his eyes cold and calculating, his smile devoid of any warmth whatsoever. He’s coldly untouchable, barely even human.

On the other hand, his husband Yuuri at first seems to be his complete opposite, but is in fact just the same. He smiles sweetly at everyone, warm and friendly. He likes helping people out and listening to their troubles and taking care of them.But despite all that, he keeps everyone at arm’s length. He listens, but he never talks about himself, never leans on anyone else, never talks about his own troubles or his fears or his aspirations. He never lets anyone see him as anything less than perfect, composed, untouchable.

Yura has to have dinner with both of them once a week, and those single-handedly the most stressful times of his week, the moments he hates the most - the tension is always so thick he could cut it with a knife, turning the delicious food to cardboard in his mouth.

After a month of living at the castle, Yura finally learns what the deal is between the two.

He’s having tea with Lady Babicheva one day, and she tells him that things hadn’t always been like this between the king and his consort. Mila tells him that once upon a time, Viktor and Yuuri had been head over heels in love.

Yura doesn’t believe a single word of it. “What happened, then?” he asks skeptically.

“The Queen mother was killed,” she tells him softly, voice barely above a whisper.

Yura is confused. "I thought she had a heart attack?” he asks.

Mila leans in conspiratorially, dropping her voice even more, so that Yura can barely hear her. “It was covered up by the king,” she tells him, eyes darting this way and that to make sure no one is around to hear them.

“Why?“ asks Yura, still confused as all hell. "Wasn’t the king said to be extremely close to his mother? I’d think he’d be the one most eager to see the killer put to justice!”

“He was!” Mila confirms. “But he was putting the safety of the country before his own feelings.”

Yura is confused for a few seconds more, before horrible realization suddenly dawns on him, and a wide-eyed, horrified expression comes on his face.

Mila nods. “Prince Katsuki admitted to having her assassinated." 

And suddenly, everything makes sense to Yura. Before Viktor and Yuuri had married, their two countries had been at war for generations. They had formed a shaky truce only two decades ago, and the marriage between Viktor and Yuuri had been meant to strengthen their alliance.

The Queen mother had been an extremely popular ruler in her time on the throne, and if it had come out that she had been murdered by her own son-in-law, a war would have been unavoidable.

When she had died though, the two countries’ economies had only just gotten back on their feet, and they were both still working to rebuild. Another war would have been disastrous for both sides.

So Viktor had let his own emotions take the backseat, had told everyone that she had died of a heart attack. Within the castle walls, however, he had taken drastic measures. He had put his husband under 24 hour surveillance.

(The rest of the world had cooed at how sweet it was, that he was so worried for his husband’s safety that he had given him four constant bodyguards to protect him at all hours of the day)

Yuuri had been forced to move out of their shared bedchambers. He had been sentenced to house arrest, forbidden from leaving the palace grounds unless he was attending official functions with Viktor. He spent most of his time alone, in his lonely tower bedroom. 

Officially, the reason for all this was that Yuuri was sickly - that he stayed indoors due to his failing health. Only a select few in Viktor’s inner circle knew the truth of it.

And even now, five years later, Mila is still heartbroken about it all. She used to be close to Yuuri, had spent many an afternoon strolling with him through the castle gardens and giggling with him over tea and court gossip. She still misses her friend like an almost physical ache, and his betrayal is still an open wound.

Yura, however, is still somewhat skeptical. Something feels……..off to him.

He tries to stay away from Yuuri for a while after that,, just to be on the safe side. But the more he thinks about it, the more things just don’t add up, and the more he becomes *convinced* that there’s something up

(There’s no way anyone can just pretend to be that disgustingly nice all the time.)

There’s nothing more that Yuri hates than an unsolved mystery, and so he starts going out of his way to talk to Yuuri, to spend time with him.

Yuuri is surprised at first, but absolutely delighted. After so many years of isolation, it’s nice to have some social interaction. He had thought he would spend the next few decades alone, until Viktor had finally abdicated his throne, and Yuuri might hopefully be dismissed to move back to his family’s home in Yutopia, his duty complete.

The two Yuris grow extremely close over time, and Viktor starts to get wary, worried that his husband is trying to influence his heir as well. He tries to keep Yura away from Yuuri, trying to keep the impressionable teenager safe. But Yura keeps sneaking his way into Yuuri’s chambers, even after Yuuri warns him to stay away for his own safety.

Eventually, after several months of this, Yura finally gets the truth out of Yuuri.

The assassins had, in fact, been sent by a noble house from the country of  Svizra, one of their longtime allies, without the knowledge of their king Giacometti. The nobles had been hoping to take advantage of their weakened state in the aftermath of the war with Yutopia, and he been trying to instigate a war. 

A war which would almost certainly have spelled the end of the Nikiforovs’ dynasty.

But they hadn’t accounted for just how fiercely loyal Yuuri was to his husband and his new country. If the public had found out that the Queen mother had been assassinated by their supposed allies, there would be no way to avoid a war - whether a war with the country of Svizra, or a civil war.

So Yuuri had claimed all the blame himself. Because he knew that, with their precarious alliance on the line, there would be no way Viktor would be able to  take official action against him, and would be forced instead to cover up the fact that foul play had been involved.

Yuri Plisetsky is rightfully horrified, and absolutely furious. "What the hell, dumbass!? WHY DIDN’T YOU JUST TELL VIKTOR ABOUT IT?” he demands. “You didn’t have to take all the blame! Viktor would have understood!!!”

And Yuuri and his bleeding heart refuses to look at Yura when he replies, quietly, that he didn’t want Viktor and Chris’s relationship to suffer because of it. Because even if it was proven that the king had had no part in the assassination, his failure to notice the growing unrest in his court would have put strain on their alliance. And Svizra is a powerful country whose friendship will be indispensable in the future while their two countries rebuild themselves.

Yura wants to just scream because it’s not fucking fair and Yuuri is a dumbass for trying to fix everything himself, and Viktor is a dumbass for believing someone like Yuuri could ever betray him, and Christophe is a dumbass for not being able to stop all this, and everyone is just SO FUCKING STUPID.

Yuuri manages to get Yura to stay quiet about the whole thing.

He promises not to say anything to Viktor outright, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try and make his stupid cousin see his mistake somehow.

Yura starts spending more time with Viktor - starts trying to get past the icy barrier of hurt and betrayal he wears around himself like armor. 

Viktor is slightly suspicious at first; suspicious that Yuuri has put him up to this. But it’s as good an opportunity as any to sway Yura back to his own side, and maybe keep him out of his husband’s clutches.

It doesn’t take long for Yura to get Viktor to spill the story of the assassination to him (Viktor hopes it’ll serve as a warning for Yura to stay away from Yuuri, to make him see that the man is dangerous)

And from then, Yura starts planting the seeds of doubt in his stupid cousin’s mind.

"What motivation would he even HAVE to kill her!?” is the first thing Yura demands. And it stops Viktor short, because he’d somehow never even thought of that.

It takes quite a bit of effort to make Viktor come around. (Because Viktor wants so badly for it to be true, for Yuuri to be innocent. He wants so badly to have his sweetheart back, but he just knows that if he lets himself hope, but it turns out that Yuuri is exactly the kind of cold-blooded murderer they think he is, it will absolutely DESTROY Viktor.)

Yes, it takes Viktor quite a while to finally come around, but even he isn’t able to keep up forever against Yura’s pointed questions and the nagging doubts that have started to grow and fester in his mind.

And when he finally caves and decides to have a proper investigation into the matter, Yuuri’s admission of guilt, his supposed motives for killing his mother-in-law, it all falls like a wet paper bag. There are more holes in his story than a slice of swiss cheese.

And Viktor is just. So ANGRY.

Angry at himself for ever believing that his sweet Yuuri would do something so treacherous when all this time it was quite the opposite, when Yuuri was ready to give up his own happiness, his own reputation, to keep his beloved country safe.

And he’s angry at Yuuri too. Because they lost FIVE WHOLE YEARS. Five years of kisses and cuddling, five years of laughter and love, five years of happiness.

And he’s probably never going to forgive himself for the way he’s treated Yuuri in those years.

But now they have a lifetime to make up for it.

And finally, Viktor has something more to live for. He’s no longer stuck just going through the motions.

It’s not all perfect, he’s never going to get his mother back, but he has his husband, and that’s good enough for him.

Yuuri is an absolute sweetheart who’s beloved by his people, so when news spreads of his supposed “miraculous recovery”, his return to health, the people are overjoyed.

The servants in the palace are delighted to be allowed to talk to and laugh with him again. They fuss over him for months afterwards, worrying about him pushing himself too much (and Yuuri always feels so guilty about lying to them.)

Mila and Georgi and the other nobles who had known the truth behind Yuuri’s apparent “sickness” that had rendered him bedridden for the past five years are ecstatic as well.

They’re so happy to have their friend back, and after five years of heartbreak and misery, everything is right in St. Petersburg again.

Honestly, being a fic writer sucks. Like, I know I’ve joking talked to @xambedo about how if fandoms were totem poles (probably a super bad analogy, I know) fic writers would be towards the bottom. Not the very bottom, because fics are generally more relevant than AMVs (which are hella awesome and deserve way more recognition because editing videos and matching clips is hard), but certainly not towards the top either.

Some lovely things that come with being a fic writer:

  • Being told you’re not a “real” writer. Because it’s entirely irrelevant that fanfiction has created a new wave of writers and most are entirely self-taught. I learned more writing fics between the ages of 13-18 than I ever did in school, so much so that my Creative Writing professor in collage told me there was “nothing more he could teach me.”
  • Fanfiction, as a whole, has a generally negative connotation. You find any book to movie adaptation that didn’t go well at all and people say it was “written like fanfiction.” Not “bad fanfiction” just “fanfiction. Never mind that there’s so much good fanfiction (some of which being better than the actual source material).
  • Need to pay the bills? Want to try commissions? A patreon? Good luck! 
  • The overall lack of response sucks. Generally speaking, even the most popular writers in fandoms struggle to get their work spread around. On a good day you can get maybe 100-300 notes on a fic (wide range, but that’s exactly how much it varies), and that depends on when you post it, how many times you reblog it yourself, and chance. A lot of people just don’t reblog fics
  • There are no good sites to post fics. FF.net is dysfunctional 70% of the time, AO3 is complicated to use and people are even less likely to leave comments there, and Tumblr just isn’t very welcoming to writers (I’ve been told several times that I should just move to a different platform. Jokes on you, even sites dedicated to fic writers absolutely suck. There’s no winning, only exhaustion and resignation.)
  • Reviews/Comments are frustrating as all heck. Either readers don’t review, they leave magnificent comments that touch your soul, or you get twelve reviews telling you to “update” despite the fact that you just did an hour ago. I promise you, fic writers watch their email like a hawk after updating, and the moment they open that first email saying they have a review and see it’s just telling them to update again, they deflate. And it’s not that people don’t have the time or don’t know what to say, they just… don’t want to. 
  • (Sidenote: try bribing your readers sometime, just to see for yourself. If you have a consistent schedule, casually slip in that “hey, if this chapter can hit *insert number slightly higher than the average* reviews, I’ll update *insert earlier date than when you would be updating*.” Like, just try that once. I swear you’ll get least a few more reviews than normal.)

Blahblahblah, I’m whining, if you’re going to reblog this to be a snarky asshole and call fic writers entitled/greedy/etc how about you consider not doing that and maybe just let fic writers be frustrated over things. Writing is hard.

Basic transits meaning

 Feel free to add + correct something! I’m still learning about this so your help is amazing :)

I’ll cover the houses here. If you want to check your transits, here you have a tutorial by @astrologanize

Sun: focus, where you shine brighter than ever! Where the sun falls, it’ll be your main interest for a certain time. For example, Sun transiting your 11th house will focus on social life, friend groups and your dreams. Sun transiting your 6th house will be focused on routine and getting things done, rather than dreaming and being social.

Moon: this planet’s transits are really short (2 days approximately), so its effect is more like “daily mood” than big and meaningful cycles in your life. These transits show where your emotions are focused on, and where you may be more creative. I highly recommend to check the sign where the transit Moon is in! For example, Cancer moon is transiting in your 2nd house. That’ll mean you’re a lot more attached emotionally to your material goods, and you may buy too many things during this transit. Of course, this feeling only last for like two days so next week you might regret all the useless things you’ve bought…

Mercury: this planet’s transits tend to last one month aproximately. These transits show where your mental focus is, your mental state and what kind of subjects are you up to learn. Plus, it brings a lot of energy to the house’s activities. For example, Mercury transiting the 3rd house will be a lot more witty and will seek more mental stimulation than usual. It may be difficult to stop thinking and you may jump from one thought to the next fearly quickly. This is a good time to focus on mental activities, like school or college.

Venus: this planet’s transits last about one month. This transits tend to show where you feel more confident and social. If it isn’t in a bad aspect with any natal planet, it’ll be a good transit. Depending the house transit Venus is, you may be a lot more creative and artsy. For example, Venus transiting your 5th house will make you more prone to flirting without a clear objective, more like an entertaiment than a real affair. This placement is perfect for creative activities, like drawing.

Mars: this planet’s transits last about one month. This brings a boost of energy to the activities concerned to the transited house, and may indicate what drives you during that time. For example, Mars transiting your 9th house will be eager to learn, and motivation to travel and experience new things.

The following planets have a wider orbit around the sun, therefore, they stay longer in each house. Personally, I think their effects are way more crucial than, for example, the moon’s. 

Saturn: this planet’s transits last about one or two years. It is mostly seen as a hard aspect because it shows where one have work to do in order to reach a goal, where we don’t feel enough and it sometimes lead to insecurity and limitations. For example, Saturn transiting in the 10th house can make you feel useless in your career and vulnerable in front of others, and you might feel your work isn’t rewarded. This is a good time to work harder than ever and find holes in your public image and goals.

Jupiter: this planet’s transits last for one year. It shows where you find yourself luckier and happier, and what will help you to expand your life. This is generally seen as a good transit, not matter what kind of aspects it has with your natal planets. For example, Jupiter in the 12th house finds happiness and expansion through relaxing and spiritual ways, like meditation. This is a good time to analyze yourself and let your ego wash away.

Uranus: this planet spends many years in one house and sign. It brings change and mental energy. Change is abrupt and may be caused by a change of mentality or plain boredom. Uranus is here to start new things, to dare and to challenge you. For example, if Uranus is in your 1st house, you may feel you need to change your appearence and your identity may be challenged. This is a good time to change your style and re-create yourself.

Neptune: this planet spends many years in one house and sign. Where it is placed, things get burried. It’s a time where you are more creative, spiritual and confused at the same time. This transit paints a certain part of your life with fantasy. If Neptune is transiting your 6th house, for example, you’ll daydreaming a lot more than you’re used to and procrastination may take over your life if you don’t control it. This is a good time to make art though.

Pluto: this planet spends many years in one house and sign. Transformation is the key word for this transit. Where transit Pluto is placed, things (think about habits, cycles, etc) end in order to start new ones. Also, it can symbolize that your current habits will be transform permanently. Negative feelings may be regular in certain times. Things from the past may do a come back. For example, if Pluto is transiting your 7th house, several of your relationships and friendships may transform in something new, bad or good. Plus, some of your relationships may end and that will mean a new cycle, a “new” you. This is a good time to reevaluate your relationships and throw away the negative ones in your life.

-Melisa.

anonymous asked:

please let loose and give me any, and I mean ANY, fluffy Bakugo headcanons

thank you for allowing me to go on a tangent, friend.

Originally posted by krispscribs

Random Katsuki Bakugou headcanons that are varying degrees of fluffy and that I’ve had in my head for forever

+ likes having his hair played with but will never, ever admit it; gets extremely angry if someone stops playing with his hair before he tells them to. Makes sounds akin to a large cat purring while it’s happening

+ Kirishima is his best friend, he will fight anyone that insults him; Monoma has almost died twice for picking on Kirishima’s quirk. He also goes well out of his way to make Kirishima feel better

+ sleeps with 3 pillows; two regular pillows at the head of his bed so no matter what side of the bed he’s on, he’s got a pillow, but the third is a body pillow so he can lock his arms and legs around it. He’s a cuddler, but he’s gonna kill anyone who finds out unless it’s his s/o

+ even though he outwardly despises Izuku, he will still defend him from people who insult him for no reason, as only he is allowed to insult Deku, fuck off

+ is really into traditional activities, like obon and tanabata. He doesn’t miss shrine visits, either, and he has a bunch of omamori on his bookshelf, mostly for academic success, strength, good health, and wealth because those are things important to him

+ loves giving his s/o ridiculously insulting nicknames, enjoys it even more if they do it back to him; Bakugou: hey, bitchface s/o: what do you want, assrag Bakugou: I love your fucking face *pulls them into a hug* it’s stupid, and it’s mine

+ is into photography, has several very expensive cameras in his dorm room, and he likes taking candid pictures of the Baku Squad; his favorite subjects are Kirishima and Kaminari, though, because they are both good looking people and are always up to something. He also feels weird taking pictures of girls, he doesn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea about why he does it, so he sticks mostly to the guys in the class when he takes pictures, but he does have some really nice pictures of Ashido, Yaoyorozu, and Asui

+ on his classmates’ birthdays, he cooks their favorite foods if they’re together; for Todoroki’s birthday, he makes a special zaru soba with noodles he made himself, for Kirishima’s birthday takes the Baku Squad out to yakiniku and cooks for Kirishima though everyone else is on their own since he’s not their mom, and he even makes katsudon for Izuku on his birthday because he knows it’s his favorite and it’s a way to apologize for his actions without actually having to say sorry

+ can and will nap anywhere if he’s really tired; on the couch in the common room, his bed, on Kirishima’s floor if they’ve been studying and he just dozes off, in the library while leaning against a bookshelf this scared one of the second year students once, and once he even fell asleep during a survival exercise at Ground Beta; he won the exercise, no one managed to find and capture him.

+ if he stays up past a certain point, he becomes friendly; of course, before that he gets increasingly more ill-tempered, but after a certain point of sleep deprivation, he just becomes a very friendly, touchy person, and he smiles genuinely. The firs time this happens, everyone is terrified because there’s no way that’s Bakugou

+ he’s got deep insecurities about his personality and his ability to become a hero, and one of the only people that can pull him out of a funk that’s induced by thinking about that is his mom; he’s a momma’s boy, even if he’s always calling her an Old Bat and a Hag

+ his family is very important to him, and he wants to make his parents happy; he sends his parents some of the pictures he takes of his classmates, so that they can see how he’s doing now that he doesn’t live at home anymore. On days off, he’ll go visit them, or meet his mom out somewhere for a mother-son lunch date, because he misses her

+ although he’s always been determined to become a hero and is going to accept nothing less than becoming the top hero in the world, he’s given considerable thought to alternative career paths; both his parents are in fashion, he enjoys designing have you seen his costume, he designed that by himself and it is amazing in function and aesthetics but prefers photography; despite wanting to be rich and famous, he hates the idea of modeling and would much rather be on the other side of the camera

+ is the kind of person to point out everything wrong in a movie; look at that dumbass, you can see the boom mic, they forgot to fill in that green screen! That’s not what color that character’s eyes are in the book! That is not how physics work those sharks are not in that fucking water cyclone fuck off

+ has a lot of All Might merch, just like Izuku, except he left it all at home before moving into Heights Alliance because he’s not a fucking nerd like Deku

+ is surprisingly fond of ballads, but really likes rock music; rock ballads are great

+ likes slow dancing with his partner in the kitchen while waiting for dinner to finish cooking (I’ve posted this before in another request but I had to include it here too)

+ asks Kaminari and Jirou for new music, ends up really liking TUBE because Kaminari showed him N A T S U and it just was catchy

+ is one of the best singers in the entirety of Class 1-A, but doesn’t sing very much when everyone goes out to karaoke, because it’s stupid and he doesn’t like the astounded looks on everyone’s faces when they find out he’s got a good voice

+ his favorite Disney girl is Mulan because she’s a badass, he wanted to marry her as a little kid and didn’t talk to his mom for two weeks after she told him Mulan wasn’t real and he couldn’t marry her

anonymous asked:

Hello darling I've been swimming around tumblr for a while and I'm very glad that I found your blog. Are requests still open? How would RFA + V react to an MC who's actually a pretty serious person? Like an MC who isn't cute or sweet but is loyal, intelligent, and outspoken and would enjoy talking about philosophy and history?

Hey there, sweetheart~ I apologize for taking so long with your request! We’re slowly but surely working on the mess that is our inbox right now;; Anyway, I knew I had to write something for this because I’m really digging this MC. Hopefully you’ll like what I’ve written for you!

- Admin Cat Mom.

Yoosung

  • you can’t even begin to imagine how insecure and inferior he feels in your presence.
  • after all he’s just slacking off and putting zero effort in his studies.
  • and you are this well-versed woman with plenty of interests who isn’t easily fooled.
  • yeah… he’s fucked.
  • thing is, though, yoosung is more capable of excellence than he believes, he could be top of his class if he wanted to.
  • he already was back in his high school days anyway?
  • and so he feels inspired by you to get out of his slump and become better through hard work.
  • he loves how engaging conversations with you can be and how much he learns about… well, pretty much everything?
  • philosophy tends to give him headaches but he could listen to you talk about asian history for hours on end.
  • besides, you are exactly what he needs: someone with a great sense of self who can keep him with his feet on the ground.

Zen

  • and here we have another bean who’s discouraged by insecurity.
  • unlike the rest of RFA, he didn’t even finish high school.
  • he’s more of a street smart kind of guy.
  • trying to follow conversation with you is the hardest thing he’s ever done, and trust him, he’s been through the hardest already.
  • is he really good enough for you?
  • there’s this darker side of him telling him to quit because you deserve someone better.
  • someone who isn’t stupid and ignorant.
  • the man his mother wanted him to be.
  • but regardless of the voice inside his head, he knows it would be an honor to be such a magnificent lady’s companion.
  • so he fights against it because you don’t deserve someone who does nothing but pity himself.
  • he admires your confidence and is often amused by how outspoken you are, the world needs more people like you.
  • and your loyalty is much needed due to his hectic job and public life.

Jaehee

  • YES.
  • you are just perfect.
  • she’s in love with you and your mind and how you carry yourself.
  • and you seem like such a reasonable, mature individual, it’s almost refreshing for her.
  • truly completely blown away.
  • it amazes her how easy it is for her to talk with you.
  • if she’s not following whatever it is you’re saying, she’ll make sure to look it up when she has the time.
  • your dates consist of going to museums and several cultural activities.
  • and don’t forget the musicals.
  • you were her biggest support system when she had to defy her boss in order to pursue her dreams.
  • I mean, you were pretty much her role model, and she still, of course, looks up to you dearly.
  • you guys have each other’s backs yet are fully aware you’re capable of defending yourselves just fine.
  • she’ll always be willing to kick some asses for you, though.

Jumin

  • the fact that you’re outspoken can cause a bit of conflict between the two of you, especially during the rockiest parts of his route.
  • other than that? oh god.
  • in this man’s eyes you are amazing in every aspect he can think of.
  • and so different from the women he’s used to deal with.
  • he values your sense of loyalty, it is of great help when his controlling urges start messing with his head.
  • because he knows you are not leaving any time soon.
  • as for what things you enjoy doing together, recommending books to each other is one them.
  • criticizing them together is another.
  • he promises to take you with him during some of his business trips, at least to the ones he thinks you’ll enjoy.
  • he also has a huge room in his penthouse destined for you and only you, where he’s gathered a huge collection of philosophy and history books.

Seven

  • you may not get along in terms of joking around and acting sweet.
  • in fact, your outspoken nature intimidates him a great deal.
  • or amuses him depending on the context.
  • you’re like a jaehee, or a jumin… a jaehee-jumin hybrid.
  • yes he does tease you about it here and there, that’s a given.
  • but he’s secretly fascinated by your knowledgeable self.
  • he is, in spite of everything that’s been said about him, someone intelligent and remarkable. 
  • he likes the way you talk about history.
  • prepare yourself to have him begging you to tell him bedtime stories.
  • “how about ninjas? or secret agents? know anything about them?”
  • yeah… just because you’re a more serious person doesn’t mean he’ll stop trolling you.
  • let’s also add the fact that he won’t be able to push you away because you are not gonna put up with it.

V

  • a thousand times yes.
  • we all know this man is way too faint-hearted.
  • he is in desperate need of someone strong-willed and you come into his life in just about the right time.
  • and he appreciates your loyalty.
  • let’s not forget he has many, many scars from his past relationship, both mentally and physically.
  • so he feels like he can trust and rely on you.
  • I assume that, because of his upbringing and job, he is quite knowledgeable and enjoys history as well.
  • that’s enough to have you both talking nonstop, sharing personal views and facts while laying on the grass and staring at the sky.
  • moments like this help him realize that maybe he will be able to connect to someone new after all.
  • he likes to take you to museums and art galleries.
  • and he’ll show you his collection of old paintings and photographs.

anonymous asked:

Hi!! I've spent the last few hours just reading your work and omg I love the way you interpret the prompts! You're making the long hiatus so much better already and I can't wait to read more! I have a prompt request as well: friends with benefits to realizing they like each other (with some angst added in!) thank you!!! :)

First of all thank you so much, that’s so sweet of you! Second of all, here it is! This is more playful than angsty but I still hope it’s okay!

AU: Jughead never went to Riverdale High and never became friends with Betty and the gang the way they were supposed to. Archie, Jughead, and Betty were close in middle school, but once they parted ways and Jughead followed in his father’s footsteps of becoming a Serpent, their relationship was never the same.

Betty brushed past Cheryl Blossom as she hurried her way down the freshly-mowed lawn of Riverdale High’s courtyard, nearly snagging her baby blue sweater on one of Cheryl’s particularly sharp insect brooches as their shoulders slammed into one another.

“B, where the hell have you been?” Veronica called to her from their usual picnic table at the end of the quad, her prized set of pearls shining elegantly in the mid-afternoon sunlight.

Ignoring the icy glare that Cheryl tossed in her direction, Betty maneuvered her way through the crowd of chatting classmates to slip her way onto the bench of the picnic table next to Kevin, just as Veronica turned to narrow her eyes at Betty. “I’ve had to listen to Cheryl’s incessant ramblings regarding the subpar quality of her brand new Louboutins for the past half hour and trust me, when I reach the point of boredom beyond repair talking about designer shoes, you know there’s a problem.”

“Sorry, something came up,” Betty mumbled, shrugging off her pale pink backpack and placing it on the wooden surface in front of her.

“There have been a lot of things ‘coming up’ lately,” Veronica pointed out. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say our little, not-so-innocent Elizabeth Cooper has a man in her life she’s been hiding from us.”

“Yeah, right,” Betty scoffed, unzipping her bag and rummaging through its contents to find the salt and vinegar chips she didn’t eat at lunch. “You know how terrible I am at keeping secrets. Remember your surprise birthday party last year?”

“How could I forget? You asked me to come over to help you with an English paper,” Veronica recounted the event in question, shaking her head in shame at Betty’s failed attempt at such a classic form of surprise. “The day Betty Cooper asks Veronica Lodge for homework advice, you know there has to be something else going on.”

Betty’s lips curled into a slight smile, her expression distant as she reached into the bag of chips and popped one into her mouth, repeating this process for several minutes without blinking or acknowledging that there were other people sitting at the table with her.

“Kind of like now,” Veronica mumbled, waving a perfectly manicured set of nails in front of her in an attempt to snap her out of the trance she had fallen into. “Look at her face, Kev. There’s something wrong with it.”

“You’re right, V,” Kevin concurred, leaning in close and tilting Betty’s chin towards him with a flick of his thumb. “There’s an actual smile on it. Hell must have frozen over.”

“Hey, I smile!” Betty defended herself, her too-tight ponytail nearly smacking Kevin in the face as she whirled around to look from Veronica, to Kevin, and back again.

“Not since Polly-” Kevin started to explain, but before he could get the words out, Veronica lunged across the table to place a hand over his mouth, nearly knocking various textbooks and papers onto the grass in the process.

“Shhh!” Veronica quieted him. “Kevin, we agreed that bringing up such events should be handled as if one were at Hogwarts and in the position of saying the name Voldemort - you just don’t do it!”

“Sorry,” Kevin shrank back onto his spot on the bench. “Let me rephrase. You’ve been a little down the past few months, but lately-”

“You’re happier than Kevin during a Brad Pitt movie marathon,” Veronica finished for him, her eyes dancing wildly as she leaned in to point a finger in Betty’s direction. “And that can only mean one thing.”

“Betty Cooper: number one in her class, editor of the Blue and Gold and all around girl next door, is getting a little ‘Fifty Shades of Freaky’ with one of Riverdale High’s finest young bachelors,” Kevin concluded, his arms crossing in front of his chest as if he were proud of himself for solving such a complicated riddle.

“I am not!” Betty protested. “You two have way too much time on your hands if you’re speculating why I’ve been smiling more lately.”

“What kind of friends would we be if we didn’t notice such things,” Kevin pointed out, his gaze suddenly leaving his friends to focus on the parking lot in front of them. “Kind of like how I’ve noticed Jughead Jones’ massive biceps lately, holy hot and bothered Rolling Stone-meets-Abercrombie you can actually see them bulging through that leather jacket.”

The boy in question stepped out of his midnight-black 1968 Plymouth Roadrunner, his dark hair falling effortlessly over his eyes as he moved to shut the driver’s side door.

“Joining the Southside Serpents has really sat well with his upper body muscles,” Veronica admired, her mouth hanging open slightly as he pulled out a cigarette and lighter from his jacket pocket like he was plucked straight out a scene from the Outsiders. “Too bad he doesn’t go here anymore, I would love to run my hands up and down those-”

“Veronica!” Betty’s eyes went wide as she turned to glare at her friend, whose mouth was practically watering as she took in Jughead leaning against the classic car and taking a drag from his cigarette like she was watching the most sensual thing she had ever laid eyes on. “Last time I checked you still have a boyfriend, or have you forgotten about our good pal Archie Andrews. You know, captain of the football team, lead singer of his very own rock band, Riverdale High honor student. Ring any bells?”

“Oh please, I’m allowed to window shop as long as I resist throwing anything into my basket,” Veronica muttered, picking up her copy of The Sun Also Rises and fanning herself with it, even though it was a perfectly cool fall afternoon that didn’t even come close to meriting such actions.

“That’s wrong on so many levels,” Betty mumbled, pushing her half-eaten bag of chips away from her and wiping her greasy fingers down the front of her sweater.

“What’s Jughead doing here anyway?” Kevin wondered. “I thought he and Archie stopped talking once he moved schools a few years ago.”

“He’s here to see me actually,” Betty admitted, turning in her spot on the bench to look at Jughead for the first time since he had pulled into the parking lot. “He was the best writer we had at the the junior newspaper in middle school and no one’s ever come close to filling his shoes, so he’s helping me out a few times a week after school at the Blue and Gold.”

“You sure he’s not helping you out with a few other things too?” Veronica wiggled her eyebrows at Betty suggestively, her lips creeping up into an amused smile as Betty narrowed her eyes at her.

“Just friends, Veronica,” Betty assured her. “Jughead isn’t Archie’s favorite person right now and after everything that’s happened with their fathers - I just - I wouldn’t do that to him, okay?”

“Whatever you say, B,” Veronica shrugged, still looking unconvinced as she reached underneath the table to retrieve her cheer bag. “Okay, I have to go find Cheryl before River Vixens practice so I can warn her that the choreography she’s been throwing at us is too 90′s cheer routine and not enough Beyonce video like we were going for.”

“Yeah, and I have to go witness the bloodbath of bitchy, yet impressively clever insults that is sure to occur as a result so we’ll see you later, Betty,” Kevin followed Veronica’s lead as she made her way away from the picnic table, the giddiness in his expression made even more evident by the enthused squeal escaping his lips as he bent down to pick up his backpack.

“Bye, guys,” Betty called out to them, shaking her head in amusement as she watched them round the corner to head back into the school.

Betty kept her gaze focused on the chemistry textbook resting open in front of her as she saw the movement coming from the parking lot out of the corner of her eye. Jughead had pushed off his car and was slowly making his way onto the sidewalk leading up to the courtyard. Her breath caught in her throat as he took a step closer. And another. And an-

“And then there was one,” Jughead announced, his leather-clad sleeve brushing the soft fabric of her sweater as he slid his way onto the picnic table next to her. “What’s it like without chatter mouth one and two attached to your hip?”

“I don’t know,” Betty sat up straight, turning slightly on the bench to quirk a challenging eyebrow in his direction. “What’s it like without your manhood to back up that newfound edginess that drives all the girls crazy? Wanna find out?”

“Betty Cooper,”Jughead beamed, one leg tucking underneath itself so that he could turn his body to face hers completely. “Throwing the banter back at me like we’re in a 1940′s black and white screwball comedy. I like it.”

“You’re early,” Betty noticed, her eyes focusing back on the periodic table displayed on the inside cover of the chemistry book.

“I ditched the last two periods,” Jughead shrugged nonchalantly, scooping up the abandoned bag of chips on the table and tossing back a handful into his mouth. “I figured that I’ve already learned as much as I needed to know about 17th Century England and the Taming of the Shrew to pass with at least a C in both history and English and still function in the real world like an adequately intelligent human being so why not skip out early and come see you?”

Jughead crumpled up the now-empty chip bag and tossed it behind him, missing the trashcan completely as he looked back to watch it roll onto the grass. Leaning in close, Jughead rubbed a hand on her knee resting underneath the table, his breath tickling the exposed skin of her neck and nearly causing a thrilled giggle to escape her lips.

“Jug,” Betty warned, reaching down to remove the hand slowly creeping its way up her thigh and turning to give him a leveled glare. “We agreed, remember?”

“You agreed,” Jughead corrected. “I said friends with benefits was a dated form of emotional torture that benefits neither party in any meaningful way.”

“Isn’t that the point?” Betty reminded him. “To not get attached in a way that lets you mean something to the other person?”

“I think that ship has sailed,” Jughead admitted, his eyes flicking to hers with a vulnerable state of truth-turned-worry when he realized that she might night have felt the same way. “At least on my part anyways.”

“You know that we can’t be anything more than what we are,” Betty explained. “At least not right now.”

“Because Archie blames me for my father’s involvement in his father’s shooting and he would love nothing more than to see me strung up on the mantle of his nice and cozy family-sized home,” Jughead recalled, his eyes rolling backwards dramatically sliding his leg back underneath the table and facing the empty set of picnic tables across the courtyard. “Yeah, you said that when we first started - whatever you want to call this. Doesn’t mean I understand it. And it doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Juggie,” Betty whispered, resisting the urge to reach out and caress his cheek affectionately the way she had grown accustomed to since they had started their relationship nearly eight weeks before.

“You know how I feel about you, Betty,” Jughead told her, his eyes softening slightly as his head turned to smile weakly down at her lips. “And I think that if you were being completely honest with yourself, you know exactly how you feel about me too.”

Betty knew he was right. She knew that she felt more than just lust, coupled with the added bonus of orchestrating their clandestine meetings, for the boy from the Southside who was more than just his leather jacket and tough demeanor. But she couldn’t risk her friendship with either boy in her life by making things official. Not yet.

“This is the way things have to be right now,” Betty sighed. “At least until Mr. Andrews gets out the hospital and everything just - settles down. Please, Jughead. I don’t want to lose you. But I don’t want to lose him either.”

Betty held Jughead’s gaze, her bottom lip jutting out slightly as her teeth automatically reached out to bite down on the tender skin there, a habit she had formed around the time she had started seeing Jughead in a little-more-than-just-friends kind of way.

“God, why do you have to do that thing with your bottom lip,” Jughead mumbled, his eyes flicking down to her pink lips with a fleck of longing in his gaze. “You know that drives me insane.”

“I know,” Betty beamed, her eyebrow quirking flirtatiously up in his direction. “Why do you think I do it so often?”

“Okay, if we’re still playing by these ridiculous rules you’ve set in place then we better get to the Blue and Gold room because I’m feeling the overwhelming urge to kiss you,” Jughead breathed, his heart beating wildly as Betty’s leg brushed against his, making his palms sweat in the best way possible. “Now.”

“Then what are we waiting for,” Betty leaned in close to Jughead as if she were going to meet her lips to his, but swung her legs out from underneath the picnic table at the last second and stood in front of him with her hands on her hips. “Race you.”

“You’re on.” Jughead grabbed Betty’s bag off the table and sprinted after her, not even noticing that there had been a figure lurking in the shadows who had witnessed their intimate exchange with a devious smile plastered on her flaming red lips. Turning on her less-than-adequate Louboutin heel, Cheryl let her waist-length red hair swing playfully behind her as she sauntered her way to cheer practice, already scheming and plotting how she was going to use this juicy new development to her advantage.

Rose x Ten, post GitF-au/fixit; angst, fluff, romance, more angst, and possibly some smut later, but this part (and all parts on ff.net) is sfw (minor exception for brief language).

(see the end of this part for notes and special thanks)

(full-size image)

Minuet, Part II

Part I | Part II | Part III

Twisting in his grasp, Rose cranes her neck to look at him, finally, and there he is, all furrowed brow and tight mouth and eyes glittering with anger, and god, if she wasn’t so irritated with him right now, she just might kiss him.

“That’s what you were going to do, isn’t it?” she asks instead.

***

Eyes widening, the Doctor only has a moment to let his mouth drop open in surprise before another gentleman steps in—time to change dance partners. Rose slips into position with the newcomer without so much as a blink or even a glance in the Doctor’s direction, never faltering in her rhythm; a quick peek at the Doctor moments later tells her that he has allowed himself to be swept up in the tide of dancers, sidling up to his new partner across the room.

Rose turns away, swirling in her partner’s arms, but she can feel the eyes of the Doctor boring into her. She shivers despite the summer heat.

“That’s beside the point,” he whispers when they meet again, touching palm-to-palm first with one hand, then the other. “I’m a Time Lord.”

“Really? First I’ve heard of it,” Rose replies drily.

“I’ve been doing this for a long time, Rose. A very long time. I understand the risks.”

Rose rolls her eyes. “And stupid apes don’t.”

At least the Doctor has the decency to flinch at those words. “That isn’t what I meant.”

“Of course it is,” Rose sighs, and they both step back, granting a berth for other dancers to flit gracefully between them. “After all,” Rose continues when they reconnect, hands clasped, “I’m hardly one of the most accomplished women who ever lived, am I?”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

are there any other drarry fics you'd rec (btw temptation on the warfront is one of my favs)

(I’m going through my saved fics, so it might be long - I have 150+ saved lol but I’ll post a link to all the ones I can remember that are really good. Please read the tags before just in case there’s something you might not like! p.s. the ones with a star are my faves - I’ve lots)


A Piercing Comfort by talithan - ( When Harry Potter hits the lowest point of his life so far, it is not his friends who keep him honest. With Draco Malfoy’s patience and guidance, Harry learns to stand on his own. The thing is, after the fact—he’s no longer sure he wants to). ✨

A Private Reason for This by Femme (femmequixotic) - ( When the wife of a star politician in the Scottish Ministry turns up dead just outside Hogsmeade, Draco Malfoy and his murder investigation team are called in from the Edinburgh Auror force to find her killer. What DCI Malfoy doesn’t expect, however, is to have an ex from two decades past end up in his murder room, endangering not only his case, but also his heart).

A Hand Reaching Out by thethaumas - ( After the Battle of Hogwarts, the Malfoys are put on trial. Draco must adjust to a reality where the things he grew up knowing to be truths, are wrong, and learn how to live with the lasting damage the trauma he lived through left behind. He quickly learns that thinking of Potter’s hand reaching out to save him from the fire can help keep the panic at bay, but for how long? A story about coping, growing, and learning how to trust oneself).

All Life is Yours to Miss by Saras_Girl - ( Professor Malfoy’s world is contained, controlled, and as solitary as he can make it, but when an act of petty revenge goes horribly awry, he and his trusty six-legged friend are thrown into Hogwarts life at the deep end and must learn to live, love and let go). ✨✨✨

All Our Secrets Laid Bare by firethesound - (Over the six years Draco Malfoy has been an Auror, four of his partners have turned up dead. Harry Potter is assigned as his newest partner to investigate just what is going on). ✨

Annus Mirabilis by Ren - (Harry and Malfoy are trapped at Hogwarts around the time the school was founded. Stuck with a different way of doing magic, with no chocolate, and with each other, they have to find a way to work together if they want a chance to go home). 

Any Instrument by dicta_contrion - (Draco Malfoy wouldn’t go back to England for anything less than an exceptional case. Being asked to figure out why Harry Potter can’t control his magic might be exceptional enough to qualify). ✨

Azoth by zeitgeistic (faire_weather) - (This series is technically complete but I may (or may not) add more one shots to it as inspiration strikes). ✨

Bond by AnnaFugazzi ✨


I’m cutting here because there’s A LOT of fics. I’ll add all of them here so it’ll be a big list. Everything else will be under the cut 

Keep reading

destielonfire  asked:

Ok so my first thought is: how does the obvious parallel between the banes and the Winchesters (and Max and Dean in particular) and their story in this ep fit into the "finding a better way / not repeating past mistakes" theme of this season? Even if Max didn't sell his soul, I find it difficult to see what he did as finding a better way instead of just history repeating itself...what do you think?

The problem is assuming that there are “obvious parallels” in s12.

There aren’t.

And… even the parallel between Dean and Max is flawed… 

I’m having an exceedingly difficult time writing coherent meta lately, because s12 is like one of those Magic Eye pictures that you can’t “see” unless you unfocus your eyes and stop TRYING to see it.

(funnily enough I can’t actually see the pictures in those damn books)

I told Lizbob the other day it’s the sound of one hand clapping. I’m starting to feel like a total flake trying to write meta about it, because it’s like writing meta on the sea.

Max didn’t take a deal (SUBVERTED!), Alicia isn’t actually resurrected because she’s just sticks and string with her consciousness overlaid with magic AND UNDER MAX’S CONTROL, not actually completely free. (SUBVERTED!)

I’d been expecting that to happen (or something similar) since Alicia was the first one possessed by the demon in 12.06.

Because in some ways, Max was a closer mirror to Sam, and Alicia was a closer mirror to Dean…

Max was the “natural witch,” the one with freaky magical powers (like Sam). He was the one convinced that their mother was doing the equivalent of Sam’s “pulling overtime on a Miller Time Shift” back in the pilot. HE DIDN’T WANT TO GO LOOKING FOR HER. LIKE SAM DIDN’T WANT TO GO LOOKING FOR JOHN. Max had a date, Sam had Jess.

Alicia was the “normal” one with no freaky psychic woo woo (like Dean), but the one who was legitimately concerned about her mother when she didn’t call in like she usually did. Max made fun of her for it, but she refused to take no for an answer (like Dean did in the pilot).

See what I mean about looking for perfect mirrors in s12? They don’t exist.

It’s like depending on what “layer” of the text you’re looking at, you see two completely different parallels. Opposites, even.

Now Tasha was obviously a good hunter (AND WITCH!) to have lived in the life as long as she did. I’ve even reblogged at least one post that paralleled her to John here. Unlike John, in the end SHE DID NOT TAKE THE DEAL.

Aside from the surface-level similarities in the fact she raised her kids to be hunters, that’s really as far as the parallel works. Everything else about her, and how she raised them (witchcraft! How to flirt with men!) was different.

Looking at the surface level of s12 and trying to speculate is… flawed at best. The mirrors are all broken. Yet the entire story is being told through broken mirrors. You have to unfocus your eyes and look at the cracks to see what’s really going on.

And that sounds idiotic, I know. But that’s how Dabb is telling this story.

anonymous asked:

Hi Keaton, I've been writing poetry for a while, reading around during leisure time, and I've tried to incorporate some of what I've learned about poetry into my work, but my poetry still absolutely, tremendously flops. Any advice?

i like to define poetry as the act of taking an abstract emotion and giving it a concrete form. to do this at all is a difficult task. to do it well can feel near impossible sometimes! the fact that you’re showing up and putting in the effort deserves praise. be proud of yourself for trying. i know i’m proud of you.

when it comes to figuring out what makes a poem work, i think the best example is ezra pound’s ‘in a station of the metro.’ you know the one– “The apparition of these faces in the crowd; / Petals on a wet, black bough.” it contains several things that highlight what we find keep us coming back to poetry: brevity, figurative language, and implication.

a defining characteristic of poetry is its economy of language, to say as much as we can in as few words as possible, so we are constantly pulling out our metaphorical paring knives and trimming our poems down to give each word impact. the length of the pound’s ‘metro’ speaks for itself. within the title and two lines, it manages to create an entire image of the parisian subway, one which has struck and stuck with its readers for over a century.

but why does it strike us? for starters, there is its metaphor. the heaving underground crowd gets transformed into a small part of a larger system of nature, petals torn from flowers, small compared to the tree on which they’re plastered, and smaller still when compared to the phenomenon of a rainstorm. bright white and shining against the dark trunk and damp cold of the air.

but the people haven’t literally become flower petals, so what is the language trying to imply here? you picture how these petals are ripped by a past rain away from their parent flowers and how they cling to the branches, and you know that in spite of their fragility, whatever hardships they might face, people are enduringly beautiful. then there’s pound’s use of the word apparition, which possesses a double meaning: apparition as in to suddenly appear into sight as the train doors open, and apparition as in ghostly. this moment is sudden, brief. people move through the metro station and you can see them, but you’ll never know each of them fully. there’s a sense of death in comparing people to ghosts, but then the flower metaphor creates a sense of regeneration. through the distance of a century, the crowd captured in this poem is long gone, and yet crowds just like that one move through the metro every day, are in the metro right now, continuing this cycle of busy, wondrous city life. and a century from now, the crowds will still be there, churning.

'metro’ strikes us because so much is going on underneath its surface. it’s a meditation on the transient, shifting, and awe-inspiring nature of human life. the poem never once takes the time to say this out loud, but the meaning is there, the part of the iceberg under the water, waiting for us to dive.

but this is just an analysis of elements i appreciate about poetry. ultimately my advice to you is this: keep writing. make those rough drafts and take the time to shape them into better drafts. write enough and you’ll find your style, you’ll figure out how to shape images the way you want, you’ll learn how to get that emotional impact. and don’t be afraid to write sloppily. all writing is good writing because it means you brought into existence something that wasn’t there before. hope this helps! all my best wishes for your poetry

observing-silhouette  asked:

Hey there, hope you're doing well! Firstly I just wanna say that I've been struggling with writers block the last couple of months, but your writing has really helped me get past it. You've inspired me to give writing my all again and for that I just wanna say thanks! Secondly I'm currently working on a Swapfell fic and I was wondering if you had any headcannons for the SF!skelebros? I love the way you portray them~!

I’m so glad to hear that you’re feeling inspired!  =D  I’d absolutely love to read your Swapfell fic, so send that wonderfulness my way~.  

& also, can I just say that your art is amazing?

I should also have a tiny disclaimer that I’ve been told my SF!bros aren’t exactly the norm, and that the backstory/healing magic stuff I’m about to go into is something I just made up on the spot.

SF!Sans:

  • Captain of the Royal Guard
  • Calls himself the MALEVOLENT SANS but is known as the Tiny Tyrant by most of Snowdin.
  • Has the shed set up as a cell/interrogation room, with barbed wire wrapped around the bars.
  • The cell contains a filthy dog bed, with water and food bowls.  The floors are strained.
  • is an absolutely horrible cook.  He makes burritos, filled with glitter and meat doused in vinegar.
  • His puzzles aren’t puzzles, but traps, and they’re intricate and ingenious.  They involve quite a few spikes and nets made of razor wire.
  • His eyelights are blue, as is his magic.  
  • He’s highkey thirsty, but hides it behind accusing the other person of flirting.
  • Easily manipulated if he’s ego’s stroked just right.
  • Uses the term “WORM” when degrading someone, and “MANGY MUTT” or “LAZY PIECE OF GARBAGE” when degrading his brother.
  • is incredibly strong but still has Papyrus do his dirty work sometimes.
  • Calls Papyrus PAPY when not insulting him.  
  • Lets his emotions rule him when he’s angry or upset enough.  Snowdin trembles in fear of his tantrums. 
  • Claims his standards are THE HIGHEST POSSIBLE STANDARDS because he’s never found anyone WORTHY OF A DATE WITH THE GREAT MALEVOLENT SANS.

SF!Papyrus:

  • Used to work in The Lab with the Riverperson
  • Smokes dog treats to calm himself down– and regular cigarettes in a pinch.  
  • Sans hates when he smokes in the house, so he usually smokes in the shed or the basement.
  • Chain smokes when he’s stressed.  Also frequently drinks.
  • Uses the term of endearment “darlin’” casually.
  • is much more subdued around his brother, whom he calls “m’lord”, of course.  Around him, Papyrus rarely puns, and while he offers advice, he usually doesn’t go against Sans’s demands.  
  • When he’s away from Sans, however, he’s more of a wise-cracking flirt.  This is purely because he doesn’t want to steal the spotlight from his bro.
  • Capable of remembering RESETs.  
  • Hates riddles. 
  • Has a higher LOVE than Sans
  • Capable of using healing magic, but only Sans knows about that.  
  • “Dog” aesthetic.  From Mutt, to the dog treats he smokes, to the collar/leash combo.
  • Always eats whatever Sans cooks without complaint.
  • Has found that barbecue sauce is the only thing that possibly gets the lingering taste out of his mouth.
  • Papyrus lost his tooth in a fight, when he was defending Sans in the scuffle listed below.

Backstory of the bros:

Papyrus is the older brother in my version of them, and he raised Sans as a babybones.  When things went sideways in The Lab, Papyrus became more withdrawn; he stopped sleeping, instead spending his nights secretly trying to decipher the Riverperson’s riddles to figure out how to fix the machine.  He obsessed over it for a while, and the timeline distortions made him apathetic.  He took to drinking and sleeping with various monsters after a long night at Muffet’s. 

His care-taking of Sans slipped through the cracks.  He hadn’t noticed that his brother had been getting picked on at school because he was a smaller monster, one with a squeaky voice and a bark worse than his bite.  It made him an easy target.  

Sans was late coming home from school one day, and when Papyrus woke up from his nap (he’d been up all night in the basement, obsessing over the riddles and simultaneously chain-smoking and heavily drinking), he went looking for his brother, only to find him getting beaten up by several monsters.  In retaliation, Papyrus unleashed hell on them.  He ended up in a fight with their parents before it was over, and several monsters winded up dusted.  

By the time Papyrus got home with Sans, his brother was horribly injured, two giant cracks going through his skull, splitting it open over his eyesocket.  His ribs were cracked, his leg was broken…

And Papyrus was injured, too.  

His drive to protect his brother was what unlocked his healing magic–something he’d only ever read theorems of in The Lab.  Not many monsters are capable of wielding two different forms of magic, save for Boss Monsters like himself.  He was able to heal his brother for the most part, although his healing job was sloppy.  

However, it came at a price.  It damaged his SOUL in the process.  
He almost Fell Down.

Sans had to step up, to try to come to grips with the fact that his brother was comatose, staring off into space on the couch for nearly a week, his HoPe at an abysmal 1.  He wanted to become stronger so he could protect both himself and Papyrus–especially given the fragile state of his brother’s SOUL.  

He vowed to join the Royal Guard.

Papyrus pulled through, and he gave up on his obsession with the machine.  Instead, he spent more time building up his brother’s confidence, spurring him on to reach his dreams.  He became fiercely protective of Sans after almost losing him.

Those that wanted to compete with Sans for a position in the Guard (it’s a highly competitive and deadly process to get in) targeted Papyrus to get to Sans.  That made the smaller skeleton realize that their bond was a weakness–he couldn’t let someone know that it was a way to get to him.  He couldn’t let them potentially dust Papyrus because of him.  

So, he started treating Papyrus like dirt publicly.  He demanded to be called m’lord, and Papyrus agreed without question.  He started demeaning Papyrus, and his brother never once talked back or refuted his claims.  Instead, he went along with everything he said, continuing to bolster Sans’s ego.  

Sans got into the Royal Guard and rose through the ranks.  He bought Papyrus the collar to show ownership–and as a way to state to everyone that messing with the MALEVOLENT SANS’S property would result in getting dusted on the spot.  He became more and more carried away with treating his brother as his literal attack dog, even pulling him by a leash while Papyrus walked behind him with a cigarette between his teeth and his hands shoved in his pockets.   

Papyrus knows why Sans treats him the way he does, and he’s fine with it because he still blames himself for the attack on Sans years ago.  Over the years, however, Papyrus has started believing the demeaning remarks against his character, which has left him with low self-esteem and even lower self-worth.  Still, as messed up as both of the brothers are, they still value each other above all else.  Sans would do everything in his power to keep Papyrus safe, and vice-versa.  All they have is each other.

(* Mobile Imagine Masterlist  )

anonymous asked:

prompt: it's javert's birthday and he's prepared for another day of work with no one knowing, and wishing someone would say something. He gets home exhausted and miserable but as he opens the door to the living all the Amis ad cosette and eponine and gavroche and valjean all pop out and they have a massive party with a massive cake and javert cries but only valjean sees

Since my usual incarnation of Javert doesn’t quite fit with this heartwarming prompt, I decided to be inspired by @actualplanetpluto‘s Dadvert (I hope you don’t mind Amara!)


It was not that he disliked birthdays, it was just uncomfortable. Javert always tried to keep his personal and professional life separate and that meant that most of his colleagues at the police station didn’t know it was their captain’s birthday. So today was just another Friday, with everybody at the station either looking forward to the weekend or lamenting their weekend shift. It was a long day too and rather tiring. By the time Javert is on his way home he is exhausted. Distractedly he checks his phone while unlocking his car. That the police station was devoid of birthday wishes did not bother him, much, but he hasn’t heard anything from his- from the kids either. Or from Jean… There are no messages on hid phone and he puts it away with a firm reproof towards himself. Not hearing from the kids is good, it means they are staying out of trouble for once. The drive home is quiet and it at least gives him the opportunity to recover some energy.

When he unlocks the door to his apartment, he frowns. Only one of the three locks is locked. He was rather hurried this morning but he never forgets to lock them all, it’s a routine, he doesn’t break routines. He opens the door. Everything is quiet…but the light is on in the living room. A small smile tugs at the corner of Javert’s mouth. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time. “Is that you Parnasse?” He calls out.

“Awww,” the familiar, slightly snarky voice replies from the living room. “How did you know?”

Javert shakes his head, walking to the living room with a smile on his face. “Because you’re the only one that feels the need to break into my-”

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

Javert freezes in the doorway and stares at the veritable crowd of people in his living room. The crowd of people cheering at him in his living room.

Montparnasse is wearing his most obnoxious, delighted grin and has one arm around Jehan, who has their hands raised in a deaf round of applause. Beside them Marius is laughingly trying to calm down Gavroche, who is literally jumping with excitement.

“Look at your face!” Joly laughs triumphantly. He is sitting in one of Javert’s armchairs and Bossuet and Musichetta are standing on either side of it with happy but slightly guilty faces that clearly betray that they were just sitting on the armrests of said chair.

There’s a flash of light originating from Bahorel, who is holding a camera, that is immediately being snatched away from him by Feuilly. “Come on,” Bahorel complains. “I waited a fifty seconds.”

“Don’t let Parnasse take the credit,” Grantaire hoots, mostly obscured by Enjolras who is sitting on his lap. “Your boyfriend used his key.”

Javert hadn’t even seen Valjean yet. He is standing behind a table laden with food and drink, flanked by Éponine and Cosette on one side and Combeferre and Courfeyrac on the other. In the middle of the table sits possibly the biggest cake Javert has ever seen. At least the biggest homemade cake he has ever seen. It says “Happy Birthday Dad” in several colours frosting.

“I did use my key,” Valjean laughs warmly. “But this was hardly my idea. It was all I could do to convince them to keep the lights on.”

“I would like to say, just for the record, that I didn’t forget to lock the door properly. I was told to do it like this,” Courfeyrac says emphatically.

“Courf takes surprise parties very seriously,” Cosette smiles. “But Papa said we’d startle you.”

“You still startled me,” Javert says hoarsely. There’s a lump in his throat.

*Are you too startled to cut your cake?* Jehan signs.

“They wouldn’t even let me have some frosting!” Gavroche complains loudly.

“I think I can manage cutting the cake,” Javert says gravely. There is a smile wavering on his face that he’s pretty sure won’t leave him once he actually acknowledges it. He takes the knife Combeferre hands him, but before he can touch the cake there is a scuffle in the corner. Bahorel is trying to take his camera back from Feuilly.

“He doesn’t like pictures,” Feuilly protests.

“Just one,” Bahorel insists.

Javert glances through the room. From Valjean’s warm, quiet smile, past all the young, happy faces. “Tonight, Bahorel,” he says. “You can make as many pictures as you like.” He wants to remember this. All of it. He does dislike pictures of himself, but he’ll put up with them to have a proper memento of all of this.

No sooner have those words left his mouth or a host of smartphones are being raised in the air.

“I said Bahorel,” Javert groans.

The room fills with laughter and Javert can literally not help the grin on his face. He cuts the cake and gives Gavroche the first piece. The kids flock around him and with every piece of cake he hands out there are more birthday wishes coming his way. He nods and smiles and none of them expect a full answer. They just beam at him and retreat to various corners of the room with their cake and lemonade, leaving Javert at the table with Valjean.

“I hope all this isn’t too much,” Valjean says, sinking his voice. “After a whole day of work I mean. But they were all so excited…”

Javert shakes his head. “It’s-” He swallows. He blinks his eyes, trying to ward off the tell-tale prickling of tears. “Thank you.”

Valjean smiles, leaning towards Javert until their shoulders are touching. “Happy birthday, darling.”

None of the kids see how Javert wipes his eyes and when he finally turns around with own piece of cake and they start to sing, he is smiling too wide to raise any suspicions.


                           Finding Marley: The Story So Far… 


As a lot of you will already know Finding Marley was the first story I ever published on Tumblr. It was how I got my blog started and without it I wouldn’t be where I am today 🙂 I used to update the story every day or so, however over the past few weeks I’ve been lacking inspiration to write and to post 😞 But!! Over the last few days I’ve begun queuing up the next posts and hopefully the updates will stay regular until the story inevitably ends 😞

Because my posts have been so irregular lately I’ve realised that some people may have forgotten some details of what has already happened 🙂 aaaaand of course I don’t expect you to reread it all again!! (unless you want to of course!) So, I’ve put together a post basically recapping the entire story so far from:

  • Prologue
  • Act 1
  • Act 2

So if you’re needing a refresher, keep reading! The recap also outlines links I intended their to be in the story. Or if you’d like you can read from the beginning, here!

Note: If you’re new to the story and have never read it before you can totally read this to catch up if you’d like, but I would strongly suggest reading the story from the beginning properly if you have the time; I believe it only takes about 30-45 minutes, if that!! 🙂 the mixture of the music, the screenshots, and the dialogue is what makes Finding Marley, Finding Marley 🙂 (can you tell that it’s my baby?? lmao xD)

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taureangyal  asked:

Hello. Please, can you tell about the "mizuage"? I've searched for the information on many websites, on some it was said, that in the past many geikos had it, on others it was said, that it was sort of "illegal" ritual for Geikos, so only few had. What about Mineko Iwasaki? When did that ritual begin? Was it for real or no? Looking forward!!! P.S. I love your page!!!*-*

I’m sorry that I took so long to answer, I wanted to include everything that I know (missmyloko has talked about this topic on her blog just a few days ago, so I wanted to add that as well) and construct it so that it’s easy to follow and not completely mixed up, like some of my longer asks ^^. So take a seat, this is going to be a long one ^^.

The word mizuage (水揚げ, “Raising Waters”) has several meanings. The first is that it’s the name of the ceremony during which a junior Maiko is promoted to a senior Maiko. The most visible differences between a junior and a senior Maiko is that a junior Maiko wears the wareshinobu hairstyle and a senior Maiko the ofuku hairstyle; the junior Maiko also wears a visibly more red collar than a senior Maiko; that of a senior Maiko is almost white, only a small part at the neck is still red.

During this ceremony, the top-knot of the respective Maiko’s wareshinobu hairstyle is ritually cut open and small presents are handed out to ochaya she frequents, close clients, or okiya her okiya may have close relationships with. It’s like a little party to celebrate the promotion of the girl. Afterwards, the girl will wear the ofuku hairstyle as her everday-hairstyle.

However, mizuage was also the name of a ceremony during which Oiran, high-class courtesans in old Japan, and Yuujo, ordinary prostitues, were ritually deflowered in exchange for a large amount of money paid by the highest bidder. It’s not clear why the names for the two ceremonies are the same, but it’s probably because the quarters of Geisha, Oiran and Yuujo were close together and they were all part of the karyukai, the flower and willow world.

Additionally, and this is likely where the word originally came from, fishermen use the word mizuage to talk about how much fish they caught a day, and the word mizuage is also used by Geisha to talk about their monthly earnings. As you can see, this is starting to get confusing.

Now, many people belive that Geisha also had a mizuage-ceremony in the sexual way; i.e. being deflowered by a man in exchange for a lot of money. This belief is also used time and time again to give reasons for Geisha being high-class prostitutes, which is still what most people in the west think Geisha are, if they know them at all. That is wrong, simply put. If you want to know about why Geisha have the reputation of being prostitutes in the west, do not hesitate to answer, I’ll gladly answer you.

However, this belief is also supported by both the novel and the movie Memoirs of a Geisha, sadly the most popular piece of fiction, and pretty much all modern literature, to been written on Geisha. In that book and corresponding movie, the main character, a Maiko and later Geiko in Gion Kobu, is ritually deflowered by a client for the largest amount of money anyone has paid for a mizuage in decades. This portrayal of mizuage in context of Geisha is plain wrong and extremely misleading and disrespectful, as is the rest of the book, and I’d highly recommend anyone who is new to Geisha to not read until they have gathered some further knowledge.

Arthur Golden, the author of the novel, talked to famous retired Geiko Mineko Iwasaki of Gion Kobu and used things she told him about her life as a Geisha in his book. However, he completely distorted things and even plain made up things that fit better into the imagination of what Geisha are by western people. For example, Mineko Iwasaki referred to her monthly earnings as mizuage, but he wrote into his book that the “sexual kind” of mizuage aso took place in Kyoto (and even happened to her, as he claimed his main character was greatly influenced and modelled after her), specifically in Gion Kobu, which is plain wrong. He also credited her in his novel, although she explicitly asked him not to. As a result of the public now knowing that she had consulted with Golden and people thinking that she herself made these horrible false claims, she received death threats and her old district Gion Kobu broke off all relations with her, and it took years to clear up the situation and rekindle her broken relationships.

But here we get to a point where it gets really complicated, as things are rarely simple in the karyukai: In the past, some Geisha did have sex with their clients. That is because, before WWII, in some Geisha-districts across Japan, it was legal to become “double-registrated” as a Geisha and a prostitute, a Yuujo. These women would entertain their clients with music, dance, games and conversation, like all Geisha do, but would then, unlike other Geisha, go on to have sexual relations with some of them.

Double-registration was especially common in poorer parts of Japan, where the respective Geisha had to also become prostitutes to make a living. Especially affected were Onsen-Geisha, which is what the Geisha working in hot spring resorts (Onsen) are called. First of all, there just are a lot of them, Onsen-Geisha made and make up the majority of Geisha, and also, aside from popular Onsen-towns like Beppu and Atami, many Onsen-towns lacked a steady stream of visitors and enough merchants (the main supporters of Geisha before WWII) to support Geisha. They were simply forced to make money through other means as well.

Many double-registrated Geisha also had a sexual mizuage, because it meant making a large amount of money at once. It was usually used to pay off a big part or all of the debt they had with their okiya for their accumulated training and living-expenses.

If you’re interested in learning more about double-registration, I’d recommend the book “Autobiography of a Geisha” by Sayo Masuda, who worked as a double-registrated Geisha before and through WWII.

Now, I want to emphasize, because they have a very bad reputation, that Onsen-Geisha were and are not prostitutes; the majority of them were just regular Geisha, like their sisters in the big cities, and even those who did work as prostitutes were still well-trained artists; the fact that they also were prostitutes does not undermine their artistic accomplishments. And double-registration did occur in other parts of the country as well, of course.

Double-registration occured in what many (Ex-)Geisha themselves, including Mineko Iwasaki, call “lower-class districts”, meaning that most prestigious and well-known districts were never affected by it. Overall, double-registration never affected the vast majority of Geisha, and double-registrated Geisha were even looked down upon by their fellow Geisha-sisters in more well-off hanamachi.

Then, there’s also something missmyloko mentioned in her dicussion about mizuage and Liza Dalby’s book “Geisha” on her blog a few days ago. For her famous book “Geisha”, Liza Dalby interviewed several older Geiko working in the Pontocho-hanamachi of Kyoto, one of the most high-class hanamachi in the entire country, who said that their mizuage was, indeed, of sexual nature.

Missmyloko pointed out that they may not have been talking about their actual mizuage-ceremony, but about something different. She said that the rules in Pontocho possibly stated that a Geiko couldn’t be a virgin, as Geiko are considered mature women, which may have intailed, at that time, that they should have had some sexual experience. In that case, there would have been a more experienced man found to “help the girl out”, i.e. deflower her, not too long before her Erikae. Since this ritual wouldn’t have been performed for pleasure on both sides and there was no money or goods exchanged, it wouldn’t have been prostitution. It would have basically been a rite of passage, and wouldn’t have been illogical by customs and mindsets at the time (not only in Japan, by the way). However, since it wasn’t specified and since most or all women interviewed by Dalby are dead by now, there is no way to find out the truth.

I hope I covered everything and did so correctly. If you have any follow-up questions, don’t hesitate to ask me ^^.

kokorynn  asked:

How actually Iori feels about Riku?

Hello there!

I have many reasons why I love ioriku, but one of the things I love the most about their relationship is you can’t deny them platonically. There’s an incredibly beautiful, strong bond between them. So even if ioriku is not your thing ~romantically~, their friendship is important to the development of IDOLiSH7′s storyline (^▽^) Anyway, moving on to Iori specifically. Iori is very… selectively vocal… (LOL) about his feelings wrt Riku.

For starters,

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nightfostered  asked:

Hi! I was wondering how you did the animated links for your navigation? I've seen a lot of people doing them lately but I haven't been able to locate a tutorial anywhere. (Your base code is gorgeous, by the way!)

I hope you don’t mind me answering this publicly, since I received several questions about this and it looks like many people are interested in this effect.

I’m going to explain to my best ability how to achieve an animation effect like this. ( Please excuse the low quality of the gif, the programme I use to make these isn’t working so well these days, for some reason. )

First and foremost, I insist that you READ THIS TUTORIAL PAGE. I’m sure there are others like this too, but this is the page I used when I first decided that I wanted to learn how to animate objects and symbols. It’s not the fanciest tutorial out there, but it explains everything very well. And in a very simple manner, which is always a good thing for CSS newbies.

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anonymous asked:

1) I am so on board for the new "marriage of convenience" fic, awesome work as always, and 2) "huddling for warmth" pre-jonsa? I've alway had this image of ten sitting (snuggling) together in one of the tents, several days before the battle of the bastards, and desperately want someone to tell the story behind it.

OOOH let’s try to turn that image into words, can we? 

(Also, nonny, funny story: I always thought the “share body heat” trope was absolute bogus and just fandom’s wishes, but turns out that it isn’t, and I AM SHOOK.)

[Sansa’s cold. Jon does his best to help. They never talk about it afterwards.]

Sansa’s cold.

Not so cold that she won’t survive, she tells herself. And it isn’t as if she has anyone to complain with- Sansa knows what they think of her, knows it well. Lannister, Stone, Bolton; it’s a miracle the Stark underneath hasn’t crumpled already, broken from the weight of her masks and griefs. The Northerners distrust her for her past, and the wildlings distrust her for what she represents, and in the end all Sansa has is herself, as it’s always been.

But, really, in the end, it all boils down to the fact that they just don’t like her.

So she keeps herself calm, unflappable, even in the fact of their utter contempt. Sansa’s suffered to get here. She won’t let herself falter now. She won’t complain, because she’s a Stark and a Northerner and she’ll show these thrice-damned people that if it kills her.

And yet- there’s a difference between facing off against lords’ disdain and being soaked to the bone in the only good clothes you have. The puddle she slipped and fell into was accidental; nobody had seen her fall, and she’d brushed herself off easily. The problem was in the tear of the furs which opened it up to the thinner layers below, and in the snowfall that came on later- they couldn’t find a proper place to camp for a few hours, and by that time her clothes almost froze solid.

Another violent shudder ripples through her, but she only clenches her jaw firmly and draws her hands closer to her torso.

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