this really came from nowhere

Please imagine long after the war, Shepard and Garrus pick up dancing as a hobby. Since their little tango on the citadel, they’ve longed to experience it again - the way their bodies moved together, how it expressed emotions better than words could, how it felt like it was just them.

For someone who could never really dance by herself, Shepard’s a quick learner when it comes to dancing with the one she loves and trusts above any other.

They enjoy it so much they decide to enter a dancing competition. Something different, but rewarding. And at every show, no matter what style the dance is or even if they stuff up, they captivate the audience. There’s just something about the two of them dancing together, something so intimate, so real, so… right.

They don’t care if they win. They try, sure, but at the end of the day, they just enjoy the experience as a couple. They couldn’t ask for more.

so as we hear in andromeda [SLIGHT SPOILERS INBOUND] castis, garrus’ dad, has the same voice as him, which isn’t the case in me3, but let’s pretend it is for a minute

because imagine shepard hearing them talk together for the first time and trying her best not to absolutely melt from their voices alone


Summary: Heyy can you do the prompt line number 3 with Isaac?? Or any character is fine, pleaseee 🙈


Paring: Brett Talbot x Reader

A/N: I used Brett, I hope you don’t mind. I’m just still upset about the whole thing and I’m in my Talbot feels. Amanda Katzenburg is not real, i just made her up.

Disclaimer: Nothing really… 

By midnight Beacon Hills, vaguely turned into a ghost town. The shops had closed, and it was only every other twenty minutes that a car would pass by. Illuminating the areas with their headlights before disappearing and leaving the streets to fall back in the complete and utter darkness. People were home asleep, getting a nights rest for the next morning. However, there was always a handful that would be out causing or looking for trouble.

Roaming around in the wilderness this late wasn’t new for the four friends, for the most part, searching the woods. Liam, Scott, Brett, and Y/N  all seemed to be in the woods searching for something. The silence was heavy amongst them, no one dared to speak. Yet they all knew what they wanted to say. Brett had recently discovered you to be his mate and he hated it but not for the reason you would suspect. As a werewolf he was keen on picking up on things before anyone else can, and not seeing that the girl he couldn’t stand was his mate—well, it was easy to see how that could’ve bruised his ego.

Being your mate wasn’t the problem, the problem was; he couldn’t control his emotions since he found out. Not only was it frustrating to see you flirt with other guys, it also didn’t help that he was horny all the time. At sometimes he would have to just give out during an argument with you, he found it way too hot when you sassed him and being hard during practice was not only uncomfortable it was painful.

With Scott and Liam being friends with both you and Brett, it was easy to see the sexual tension between the two of you. As well as smell it. Neither of them wanted to say anything hoping that the two of you would’ve figured it out yourself but it was starting to get ridiculous.

“It’s nearby,” Brett said quietly, smelling the familiar scent he smelt the other night when someone attacked him.

Liam looked over at Scott as if signaling that he should say something, but Scott refused.

“How do you know it’s just not one of the many werewolves that pass through this part of the woods?”

Brett didn’t stop walking, he just rolled his eyes at your doubtful question, “If you would’ve listened to me earlier and not eye raping Greenberg, then you would’ve known this person tried to attack me.”

“For your information wolf boy, I was paying attention I just didn’t care about the whole you getting hurt part.” You rebuttal while rolling your eyes a well.

“How about you start using your eyes, and stop babbling.” Brett hissed stopped and facing you, the gap between the two of you very thin.

“Last time I checked your not my alpha, you don’t give me orders.” You hissed back taking a step closer.

Your scent swarmed him, and he could already feel his repetitive frenzy slipping past his firewall. He hated how; you crept under his skin, how you made the things he hated about you, turn into to all the things he loved about you. He hated you because you would never know how much he cared about you. The longer he stood there close to you like that, he felt his heartbeat race. Abruptly turning away, Brett continued to lead the way back to where he was attacked.

“Let’s just find out whoever this,” Scott bringing the focus back to the task at hand.

“Whatever,“you nonchalantly mumbled continuing to walking.

As Liam began to follow, Scott stops him. Waiting for you and Brett to be a good distance away before speaking again, "Keep Brett busy, in going to talk to Y/N.”

“What?” Liam looked Scott confused, and a bit terrified.

“If this continues, they can never really know what it actually means to be mates…they won’t be able to control themselves.”

“Scott I don’t think we should-”

“Liam, trust me.”

Liam cooperated with Scott and jogged up ahead, catching up to Brett, who ignored his presences. Meanwhile, Scott caught up with you, walking by your side. It was obvious you didn’t want to be here, but when you had found out that Brett had called Scott and Liam to help him you felt kind of hurt. The two of shared the differences yes but that never stopped him from calling you if something was wrong and you only asked yourself; does he really hate me that much?

“You know we actually used to be friends,” you blurted out to Scott.

“What happened?”

“Amanda Katzenberg,” Scott looked at who, questioning if should’ve known who that was but you continued to explain, “she was his girlfriend back when I was Devenford Prep. I didn’t trust her, she didn’t trust me. Amanda fed Brett lies about me and made him choose. Me or her.”

Judging from the cold expression on your face, Scott could see Brett made the wrong the decision, “He chose her?”

“He chose her, and a few days later my mom got laid off and we both decided it would be easier if I gave up on private school.”

From thinking back to that time in your life, you felt a bit sad but it quickly disappeared remembering how Brett was the one who decided to end the friendship, not you, “He ended our friendship, not me.”

It was then you noticed Brett and Liam had stopped, Scott and you had finally caught up. Brett turned to the two smelling the sadness coming from the both of you and scrunched his eyebrows together

“What were you talking about?”

“Nothing,” Scott said looking over at you, but you just nodded and fold your arms across your chest.

“It happened here,” Brett said hesitant to change the subject, “their tracks are gone but their scent is still here and it’s pretty strong.”

“Wait a minute…” Scott said smelling the air.
There was something oddly familiar with the scent of this wolf. As if he had encountered this person before, “I think I know who he is.”

“He?” Liam said raising his eyebrows, and Scott nodded towards him.

“Brett take Y/N home,” Scott ordered, “Liam come with me.”

“How come the twerp gets to stay with you!”

“I’m not babysitting her.”

Scott knew this was going to happen but he needed to teach Liam, and he couldn’t put you or Brett in harm’s way. Scott looked over at you, his eyes turning to a glowing red, “Y/N go with Brett.”

You growled but turned away from them all. Scott knew how much you wanted to be involved, but ever since Theo and the Dread Doctors. Scott had paid close attention to you and tried to keep you away from danger.  Brett knew that Scott had a reason for his orders and only followed behind you.

The walk back to his car was silent neither of you said anything or had the intention to. The both of you were equally frustrated but for two different reasons. By the time you guys got to Brett’s car, some of that frustration had died down and things were a little calmer.

It was awkward, but it was also soothing being in his car. His smell, his warmth, as much as you hated him. Brett still had managed to make you feel safe. Surprised that he was on the right path to your house, you glanced over at Brett, “You remember where I live?”

“Is that an actual, question?” He scoffed and looked at you briefly before looking back at the road.

You narrowed your eyebrows and looked out the window, staring out the window you noticed all the familiar houses, this was your neighborhood and it wouldn’t be long before you would reach home but the car came to a sudden stop.

Brett didn’t know what was happening to him, he was shifting and he wasn’t in control of it. His eyes turned to their primal golden color glowing brightly. Meanwhile, his steering wheel suffered punctures from his claws. You looked over at him confused and tried to figure out why this was happening to him.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

His breathing fasten and he looked over at you, his eyes were no longer yellow but golden brown. Every traditional wolf knew what it meant to have your eyes glow that brown. Brett had found his mate and has been denying them.

“You idiot!” You hissed at him unbuckling your seatbelt, “Satomi explained to you what happens when you deny yourself of a mate.”

“It’s not my fault!” He growls unable to get control of himself.

You leaned over and grabbed his face, “Breathe you moron, breathe.”

“I don’t think breathing is gonna help Y/N!”

“Then who is it, you have to claim them.” You hissed not liking how he was yelling at you.

Brett fell silent, he couldn’t. He couldn’t tell you his mate was you. It was embarrassing. Humiliating really. You saw his hesitation and scolded him, “Brett now is not the time to be immature, tell me before you completely lose control.”

He didn’t say anything, he ripped away from your grip and got out the car. Muttering a bunch of curses you followed and tried to stop him. His growls only got louder and he wasn’t acting human anymore. His fist slammed into the hood of his car making you jump but you stayed beside him.

“Brett, who the hell is your mate for crying out loud!” You nearly yelled, but remember all the civilian houses surrounding the two of you.

“It’s you Y/N. It’s fucking you.”

Taken back you looked at Brett, hoping he’d be joking but he wasn’t. No could fake something like this. Brett was telling the truth. Hearing the sounds of his bones cracking made your heart pound even faster. It was all pieced together. His strange behavior, his smell. Brett Talbots’s was your mate.

Before you knew it you grabbed his face, wasting no time on smashing your lips to his. You did it to help him, to take him out of his misery, to take away the pain. His labored breath seemed to calm and his hands slipped around your waist his claws slight grazing your clothes.

It was going to take time for you to really feel for Brett, especially when something this came from nowhere. Of course, you wouldn’t leave him alone at a time like this but he couldn’t expect you to love him right off the bat. His claws gone and breathing normal, Brett brought his hands to your face. Cupping your cheeks tenderly before pulling away with a huff.

“You know I hate you right?” He mumbled his lips turning into a frown, “I hate you for making me feel like this, it absolutely sucks.”

“Well you’re the one who made me your mate,” you shot back defensively, “which by the way means nothing without a first date—a first everything actually.”



Brett smirked lightly before pulling you in for another kiss but you tilted your head, his lips touching your cheek. “Dinner remember?”

A chuckle escaped from Brett’s lips and his hands let you go. But you thought about this whole thing. A devilish smirk fell on your face as you looked back at Brett. He frowns seeing the look on your face knowing you were up to something.

“I’m your mate, which means you’re my bitch!”

Brett groaned and rolled his eyes, “I don’t think that’s wha-”

“You’re like my own very puppy, cool!” You clapped your hands together excitedly.

“Get in the car.” Brett sighed not paying any attention to you anymore.

“And I can call you Bub.”

“No, you will not call me Bub.”

Fairy Tail Chapter 531 Review

So new chapters out. Guess I’ll do a review

So our color cover is all of Team Natsu. I actually really like it. It’s not the usual characters standing around in fancy outfits that Hiro Mashima usually does.

So we open on Christina fleeing from Acnologia and Wendy and Anna are talking. Hey Wendy I can tell you why you don’t remeber, because she never was in the story till 4 chapters ago. #stillpissedatretcon

We see Jellal and Erza talking and Jellal makes a really good point, why do we trust her? She literally came from nowhere, we don’t even know how she met up with Ichiya, how can we trust her?

And Erza’s reasoning for trusting her is, kinda shitty. You didn’t even know what the ravine’s of time were till 20 minutes ago, how do you know it’ll work. Also here’s a crazy idea, Acnologia is a dragon and this might just be me spit balling here, but DRAGON SLAYERS STILL ARE OUT THERE! WHy is everyone treating this like it’s the only option, again the reason the DS came to the future was to beat Acnologia, not be fodder for him.

Also Jellal, Erza really has only shown to trust people she knows or at least have some past with, obvious example Jellal she trusted you and recent example she trusted Natsu to beat Zeref when the war started. I’m just saying she’s only exhibitted this trait with people she knows, and Anna sure isn’t one.

So after some intense (or suppose to be intense) flying we make it to the ravines of time.

(No I’m not dignifying what Ichiya said with the obvious answer.)

And Acnologia flys into the ravines… FU-


I’m sorry but I refuse to have Acnologia go out like bitch. (which seems Hiro’s plan).

YES YOUR DEUS EX MACHINA IS GONE! Alright so lets actually do this right and get the DS together, you have Wendy plus and Gajeel and Natsu are in Magnolia, so I say you look for Sting and Rog-

They aren’t going to do the obvious answer are they? Nope. Well let’s get ready for disappointment.

So we cut to Zeref vs Natsu…

How? How did you find them? Were they in your random wandering phase, did you find them before this, we’re they something you discovered while making eclipse ? I have questions!

Zeref, wasn’t your thing life and death? Where is all this time stuff coming from? Actually here’s a question, where’s Dimaria? She possess the soul of the god of time, you think she’d be in this or possibly built it up. No it was more important to build her catty relationship with Brandish, I forgot.

Cutting back to the Christina…

Hey new plan idea, DRAGON SLAYERS! just sayin’

Also wait, what dragons can’t ride on things that’s how they’ll get sick. Umm motion sickness I assume would kick in if Acnologia is flying around all the time, but apparently just vehicles. selective sickness ain’t it.

God damn it Anna. If you guys don’t remember when Anna first showed up and I did a review of it, I said I knew where this was going because it has happened so many times before. To get these ravines open Anna’s gonna sacrifice herself in this big dramatic moment, only won’t be dramatic. Because this is a character that was introduced to us 3 CHAPTERS AGO! No build up, no establishment, no anything, and when she sacrifices herself we’re suppose to feel there was a big loss. I fucking grantee that’ll happen because it happens almost every damn arc of FT. Hell it’s happened multiple times this arc with Irene and August already. Usually I’m optimistic with Hiro, probably more than others,  but oh god this is the last arc, my patience has dried, I’m just expecting this to suck and I am calling it right here .So be prepared for that.

We cut to Magnolia…


Actually a small part of me wants to believe this is homage to the second arc of the series where the Daybreak book turned into Dear Kaby

Ahh remember the beginning of FT. Welp, back to the present.

My guess is what Lucy saw was that Zeref and Natsu are brothers.

And back in the guild Zeref gloats till…

Mavis. Oh joy I was curious how this climax could be ruined even more.

Any Zeref shows off he’s got everything he needs to reset time. but…

And it appears Natsu is going Dragon force. Umm question, 1st gen dragon slayers go into dragon force when they taste ethernano both standard and anti, and it’s because they are able to make a connection their attribute while consuming multiple magic, that’s how it’s been forever. But what did Zeref hit natsu with. Zeref specializes in black arts, I don’t believe they are a mass of all elements, just highly advanced magic. So how did they trigger the dragon force? Well it’ll probably not be explained.

Post Chapter Follow up: This chapter was again odd. I’m more afraid of what’s to come than affraid of what happen in this chapter. Like overall, in this chapter there wasn’t much but it’s all setting up for a very unfulfilling ending.

Let’s get the god out of the way, first and foremost, shout to Jellal for being the character who says the smartest damn thing this chapter. Another thing I like is the atmosphere of the opening of the Book of END. There’s something about it’s visual that’s so captivating.

With this being pretty much setup I actually liked a lot of the pacing this chapter. It’s much better than the last few chapters. Also I am hyped to see END I really am. 

Negatives: The action this chapter is just not interesting. I mean it’s just really dull. I can not feel anything for this chase. Also for a thing called Blue Pegasus vs Acnologia, I really can’t believe hoe much of nothing they contribute. Like really their scenes are just filler.

The other biggest issue you is Anna, because I grantee that’ll it’ll follow the same thing Hiro does all the time. I so do believe that Anna is going to make her big sacrifice opening the ravines (that way there will be a parallel to Layla and her opening the eclipse gate) because I’ve seen this so many times from Hiro and frankly I’m sick off it.

That’s why her scenes with Wendy meant nothing to me because form the second she showed up I knew she was just going to be a tool, and the last chapters are Hiro trying to stuff in as much to make us feel like Anna’s this developed character but no. It’s just going to end disappointingly.

Also it still ticks me off that the ravines are our ONLY way to beat Acnologia, when for years we’ve been building up the Dragon Slayers fighting him. I just am so upset by it

Final Verdict: 5/10

  • nothing really happens that’s good or bad
  • pretty decent setup
  • This chapter is really lukewarm
Don’t touch whatever belongs to Min Yoongi. Don’t.

Honestly it’s really fucking cute when haters pop up doubting BTS and Yoongi because he’s been calling them out forever now. “Oh oh my haters, curse me some more. Keyboard warriors, please put effort into it. Yeah, just like that keep looking down on me, proving you wrong is my hobby.( We On)” Literally he’s the one who had to choose between eating cheap and walking home or eating even cheaper and riding the bus home. All in the name of music. All so he could work in his studio for no pay and struggle with a feeling of incompetence/depression when he literally performed for only a pair of people. A pair. Like two people. 

That’s why he didn’t think it was wrong to be an idol, because fuck it, some people can barely survive while only doing music. Yet, that’s all Yoongi wanted to do. That was the most important thing for him and he couldn’t imagine giving up music or shoving it the the side for another job. He’s being realistic, he’s making a living while doing something he loves and that path happens to be one of an idol. What did he get in turn for giving up everything else, for leaving home, for dancing at early hours in the morning, for lacking sleep and food and going through rigorous training? What did he gain from finding a median to allow him to keep dreaming? Unwarranted hate.

“You’re idols so even without a listen I can tell it sucks, I don’t like your lyrics even if I don’t see it it’s a video. Since you don’t have much power you must have done some dirty stuff, seeing the things you do you’ll fail soon. (Two!Three!)” You really think that came from nowhere? Of course not. He’s literally been called, to his face with others watching, an “icon” for girls, not “real” hip hop just rap. They called him an “industrialized icon” and not music To. His. Face. And that’s right, he didn’t have power. He sat there listening to these so called, self proclaimed “experts” of hip hop gang up on him.

But the funny thing is BTS and Min Yoongi were bound to gain popularity, they were bound to be recognized, way more than these hip hop experts could ever dream of; why? Because “during that time, at the least, I slept less and moved more.(Agust D)” Also because he’s had truckloads of more experience and because he, as a person, always gives and cares for fans. Being a bling bling “icon” for girls? Fine. Why not? As long as his music was doing what he always wanted it to, giving a voice/ energy/ hope/ warmth to the people who didn’t have it. “I can withstand tiring and harsh trips back and forth from work because my people are watching. Even if my body hurts, i can withstand it because the screams come crashing. The difference between pre and post debut, even while living on a line between rapper and idol my notebook is full of rhymes. Between the waiting room and stage i hold a pen and write lyrics, this is me, in your eyes what has changed? Damn shit i’m the same, I changed? Go and reiterate i didn’t change and guarded my roots i’m still rapperman. (Born singer)” Hard working and a true pinnacle of somebody who does everything for music and to connect with fans. It’s no surprise he got fame, unimaginable fame that shut out all the “real” hip hop haters and made them admit, in shame, they were schooled.

He’s always built a wall because of this, and Yoongi does a good job of hiding it. We’ve never seen Min Yoongi openly cry. He’s always managed to hold back. He’d pat his members on the back, he’d smile at them, he’d hug them, but he’d never cry. Because to those just waiting for their time to pounce back, to them it’s a weakness. “아… 아이돌 다 됐내.” You’re just fully an idol now… that’s exactly how they’d belittle him. But look at him. Finishing tours successfully, breaking records, dominating charts world wide. He spreads more music and leaves more of his legacy in the k-hiphop scene than anybody who’s ever talked ill about him. So yes, he deserved this award. He deserved it so much. Because even if it hurt him inside he knew how harsh reality was, he took the title that was slaughtered and seen through colored lenses and he bore it proudly even if people tried to break his back with it. He made music, he lived his dream and this was the physical proof of his effort. “That’s right, keep (hating) on and on. We’ll be happy by ourselves, good yeah i’m good (Two! Three!)”

That’s why haters are pointless. “Take it away from them? It was stolen from ______? They don’t deserve it?” Give me a fucking break, do yourself a favor and get over it. You can’t steal this glory from him, you can’t for a second downplay it. This was all him. It was all his. (As this is a Yoongi appreciation post i’m using singular nouns) but seriously. The countless doubts and ridicule he faced to produce something that would make a wide audience happy is rewarding him and being recognized. So don’t you dare, ever, not even for a second, argue that he didn’t deserve this. And don’t you dare call him out for finally releasing his emotions because he’s achieved his goal. This is his moment, his year, his prize. 건드리지마 손도 대지마 “Don’t touch it, what’s mine, don’t even put a hand on it.” (Give it to me). Don’t touch whatever belongs to Min Yoongi. Don’t.

Days Go By (Drake x MC)

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake x MC

Rating: PG-13, to be safe, for some innuendo at the beginning.

Summary/Note: Utter fluff. Some random thoughts from MC about her and Drake’s days together. Set sometime shortly after the whole Coronation fiasco is (hopefully) resolved. This came out of nowhere. I think it’s from me really wanting Book 2 to come out. :D

Sunday mornings are her favorite. It’s the one day of the week she can convince Drake to stay in bed past 6:30, burrowing under the blankets and running her hands lazily up and down his back. If they have no plans, she can almost always sweet talk him into showering with her (“it saves water” she always says with a wink, even though they both know it doesn’t).

When the weather is mild, they usually walk hand-in-hand down to their favorite cafe, to eat stacks of blueberry pancakes and drink too-strong coffee that makes her giggle. When it’s too cold, they stay in, and Drake makes her breakfast. He tries to protest that he isn’t a good cook, but he can make a mean omelet. She tends to distract him, sometimes on purpose, sometimes unintentionally, by leaning up against him or pressing lingering kisses to his cheek. When she feels like tormenting him a little and kisses his neck, he says her name in a warning tone, but she knows he won’t resist her for long.

It’s on a lazy Sunday morning that she realizes how happy she is, and that she can’t imagine her life without him.


Monday is probably her least favorite day of the week, but Drake doesn’t seem to mind it. She’s usually grumpy from getting back into the work week, even though she likes her job. Drake always manages to get her out of her funk, bringing home her favorite bottle of wine, or the popcorn flavored jelly beans she can’t get enough of, or going along with her obsession with watching bad reality TV shows.

He makes fun of them, but she doesn’t mind, so long as he’ll sit on the couch and wrap his arms around her while she watches them. She likes wearing her favorite fuzzy socks, even when it’s hot out, and snuggling back into the solid warmth of his chest. Sometimes he falls asleep as they lay together, and she doesn’t have the heart to wake him, even though she knows they’ll both be stiff from sleeping on the couch in the morning.

It’s on a Monday evening that they have their first big fight. He leaves, slamming the door, and she’s still sitting on the couch in a daze when he comes back. They whisper apologies between kisses and soothing touches, and he tells her he doesn’t want to lose her.


Tuesday nights, she likes to make them dinner. Drake tries to help, though he usually gives up halfway through when she playfully tells him he’s making more work for her.

“I don’t understand how there’s a wrong way to stir spaghetti sauce,” he’ll complain, or “How am I supposed to know how much ‘some’ garlic is?”

She teases him, but she loves that he always offers to help. She likes this domestic bliss they’ve settled into. Sometimes she runs her foot up his calf under the table as they eat, laughing as he tries to keep the smile off of his face. After dinner, Drake insists on doing the dishes and shoos her out of the kitchen.

It’s on a Tuesday, as Drake is washing dishes, that he casually mentions their future and asks her what she pictures. It takes her by surprise, this serious question, and he smiles gently at her stunned face.

“You don’t have to tell me now,” he reassures her. “Just think about it.”


Wednesday’s are their “therapy night”, as she likes to jokingly call it. They walk down to their favorite local bar to meet up with some of her friends, to have a couple drinks and play pool and vent about the work week and the daily grind of having to be an adult.

Drake is quiet at these gatherings at first, and she wonders if he’s uncomfortable or annoyed that she drags him out, but he reassures her he’s not.

“It takes me a while to warm up to people,” he reminds her. “But it’s kind of…fun. And they have the whiskey I like.”

Gradually, Drake warms up to their therapy nights and starts inviting some of his coworkers along, until they both start referring to everyone as their friends. It makes her happy, being out with Drake and hearing him laugh and refer to the group as “their friends”.

It’s on a Wednesday night, as they walk home from the bar, that she tells him she sees him, them, a house, growing old together, when she thinks about the future.

“Maybe even some babies,” she smiles. The smile that crosses his face as he wraps her in a tight hug almost takes her breath away.


Thursday nights, they FaceTime with Liam and Olivia. It had taken them some time to get to this point, after she returned to New York and Drake came after her. She knows Liam had been hurt, surprised, to learn the depth of Drake’s feelings for her, that they’d kissed in Cordonia. After the whole fiasco with Madeleine was resolved, she was happy to see Liam and Olivia slowly go from friends to more. She wants Liam to be happy, and although she and Olivia will never be best friends, she knows how much Olivia cares for him.

Drake struggles with it at first, his best friend being with someone who had treated and talked about his little sister so poorly. But after a genuine conversation and apology from Olivia, Drake seems to forgive her.

“But we are not going on double dates or vacations with them,” Drake warns her teasingly.

She laughs. “I am perfectly okay with that.”

It’s on a Thursday night, after they’ve hung up with Liam and Olivia, and Drake had been even more quiet than usual, that he turns to her and tells her he’s finally found Savannah. She’s a little hurt he hadn’t told her right away, but she understands those protective older sibling instincts kicking in.

“She’s doing well,” Drake says. He squeezes her hand and searches her face as he says, “I want you to meet her.”


Friday afternoons, she and Drake are usually able to take long lunch breaks together. He prefers to go to their usual places, but she can sometimes persuade him to try somewhere new. She likes to order what he calls “adventurous” dishes, while he sticks to his favorites and grins at her sometimes grimacing face as she eats things she’s never had before.

“Life’s about trying new things,” she argues playfully, or, “You can’t possibly order the same thing every time we go out,” while Drake shakes his head at her.

Sometimes he’ll try whatever it is she’s ordered, but more often than not, she ends up stealing food off of his plate. When Savannah moves to New York, she sometimes joins them, teasing Drake about his “boring” lunches. Savannah likes to try new restaurants too, and Drake pretends that he’s annoyed by the strange places that they insist on going to. But they both know Drake is immeasurably happy at how well they get along, even joking sometimes about being their third wheel.

After lunch, when Savannah has headed back to her office, Drake walks her back to work, his hand warm in hers. She likes the way he kisses her deeply before he leaves, his nose brushing against hers as he tells her he loves her.

It’s on a Friday that he persuades her to take the rest of the day off with him, to get away for the weekend, he says. His coworker has loaned Drake the use of his cabin. She loves weekends away with him, but this one becomes her favorite when Drake slides a ring on her left hand while they lay in front of the fireplace, and asks her to marry him.


Saturday morning is the one day of the week she doesn’t mind getting up early. She and Drake are usually out the door right after breakfast, buying groceries and running errands. During the late spring and summer, they usually stop at the farmer’s market, or wander through a park, taking advantage of the weather and soaking up the sunshine. If it’s raining, she can usually talk him into going to the library or a museum.

When they get home, she likes to read while Drake naps, his head on her lap while she runs her fingers through his hair. It’s one of her favorite times of the week, the noise from the city outside fading as she gets absorbed in whatever she’s reading that day and the pleasant weight of Drake sleeping next to her. Every once in a while, when she’s finished her book but Drake isn’t yet awake, she gets lost in her thoughts, how much her life has changed in the last year. Though it isn’t all happy memories, she decides one day that she wouldn’t change things, wouldn’t risk not being here right now and having Drake here with her.

It’s on a Saturday afternoon that she waits in the back room of a church, nervously fidgeting with the beading on her dress.

“Stop it,” Savannah says gently, pulling her hands away.

She manages to keep her composure through walking up the aisle and saying her vows, but she can’t stop herself from crying happy tears when Drake kisses her and whispers, “I love you. So much.”

It’s her favorite day with him yet.

i’m pulling on your heart to push my luck

title is from bite by troye sivan

@angelsweet123: Hey, I love your fanfiction can you write more solangelo smut?

@solangelo-963369: Can u do a solangelo smut like I don’t care I just want smut that’s all!! Thx😘😘

KarouO (on ao3): have u ever thought about writing a fic wheres nico submissive?

You’re all thirsty and I’m thirsty and Will’s thirsty and Nico’s thirsty and now we all have this piece of sin.

Word Count: 2278

Read on ao3

The way Will saw it, there were serious pros and cons to the whole soulmate thing.

On the bright side, knowing that they were meant to be together helped to lessen or completely dissipate a lot of their insecurities about their relationship. Knowing that no matter what happened, they’d still love each other back was extremely reassuring. Sure, there had been the whole awkward “Holy shit, we’re soulmates” conversation but after that was over with, they quickly fell into a happy relationship together.

There were, however, the cons.

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The Five Stages of Breaking Up With Your Girlfriend

Rating: T

Prompt: If you take requests, can u pls do a riarkle fic where lucas realizes how perfect Farkle and Riley are for each other? – anon

By: Nicole / @srnackle

Word Count: 1339

Warnings: None

Stage I 

They’re in the middle of history class and Lucas can’t look away.

Farkle and Riley are in the front, debating over god knows what and Lucas can’t stop just staring at them. And he doesn’t understand why. He’s usually really great at paying attention in class. Even with his girlfriend of a year in the class with him, he’s always been tuned into Mr. Matthews’s lessons. Yet, for some reason, when it’s both his girlfriend and one of his best friends up on podium, he can’t stop simply studying them. 

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to answer that ask (my clumsy ass deleted it); err, not exactly. Tr*vlyn can be cute sometimes, mainly in HCs and such, but I don’t actually think that Tr*vlyn should be canon since if you look at its history (Travis grabbing her..well you know [and yes I know he’s changed but still] and Katelyn hitting him constantly). 

Z*nvis? Nnnnoooooooo sorry I don’t like most of the people who ship it on Wattpad [they’re more toxic than nuclear waste], and it came from nowhere. I also really hate Z*ne [BUT KESTIN;; THAT’S TALENT YOU HAVE AFSYSG].

But, yeah! I prefer Danvis since they’re really close and cheerful together and it’s a cute ship!!


To people who ship either of the mentioned above the line: If you ship it, we’re cool, as long as you don’t hate on people for having different views, and as long as you’re chill and not crazy.

Words of Regret (Part.2) - George Weasley Imagine (requested... a lot)

Request: Literally like the 10 messages I got asking for a part 2!(:

I did not spell check this so sorry for the mistakes!!!


Y/n’s pov-

A long, dreadful week had passed since mine and George’s little argument… no it wasn’t a little argument because if it was a small thing, we would’ve both been over it by know and back to our old ways. We weren’t though. George refused to acknowledge my presence when I entered the same room as him, just as I pretended he did not exist when holding a conversation with Fred and the bitter twin being in a nearby radius as us at the same time.

It hurt me to know the two of us where putting Fred between a rock and a hard place. He shouldn’t have to feel like he has to pick between us but then again I wasn’t about to forgive and forget what George said to me so easily. I guess you could say I was a bit stubborn, but an apology needed to come from George before I dared to look his way ever again. Maybe I was overreacting a bit. I was crushed by what he had said about me… maybe it was a spur of the moment type of hatred. Nevertheless it still had an effect on my emotions.

Fred had been trying desperately to get the two of us talking again and I did feel bad for disregarding all his attempts. In hind sight, if George and I were ever to talk again, it would happen on our own terms not by force. The love I felt for the twin still remained even though it was now vaguely certain to me they would not be returned, I couldn’t get rid of them despite how much I tried.

Sunday morning rolled around like the dreadful return to school after a worth wild summer. Students slumped out of their dorm rooms and down to the Great Hall for breakfast on their own schedules. Breakfast was between 6am and whenever lunch was served, which usually happen around noon time. I preferred this timing much more than the weekdays because it gave me a flexible time slot to try and make it out of bed before lunch time that was if I wanted breakfast. In no way was it a mandatory thing, fairly optional but most students refused to turn down a free meal.

Skipping down the stairs and pulling my grey hoddie close to my body, I entered the Gryffindor common room to find it for the most part, deserted. A few of my fellow classmates, maybe ten or so, scattered around the room talking amongst themselves. I gave a swift wave of my hand to them before bouncing off and heading to the Great Hall hoping to find Fred and George- Fred there. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t slightly hope for George’s presence to be there. I was sick of fighting and ignoring him all week, could it be possible that he was feeling the same way?
Hesitantly entering the dining room, I quickly caught site of the two twins sitting across from each other at the long narrow wooden table with a group gathered around them as they ate. Ron and Harry sat to each of their left, and Ginny and Hermione a few spots down sitting next to Harry and Ron. I took a steady breath before making my way around the table and sitting next to Fred Weasley.

“Hey Y/n! I thought you were never gonna make it down!” Fred teased nudging my shoulder gently. I rolled my eyes reaching across the table for a warm biscuit and set it on the bare plat in front of me.

“Not that that would’ve been a shame…” George muttered. Fred jerked from beside me and by the pained expression on his brother’s faced I had assumed Fred jabbed his foot into his brother’s shin. Hermione coughed from her end of the table and spoke in a shaky voice as if scared she would get bitten.

“So, um, Y/n… Ginny and I were wondering if we could talk to you in the hall for a second?” Silence fell into the empty gaps between all conversations at the table and now all eyes were glued on me. I nodded, confusion clouding my thoughts. Ginny smiled pushing herself from her seat and leading the way out of the breakfast hall, with Hermione and I in toll.

Exiting the room I followed behind the girls closely until we were alone in a blank the corridor, a number of portraits and a closed closet door being the only thing presented, and a few feet and three right turns away from the Great Hall.

“Guys what are we doing over here?” I questioned. Hermione laughed awkwardly avoiding eye contact. Ginny gave me an apologetic smile,

“We’re really sorry Y/n…. now Neville!” She shouted giving me a push backwards sending me plummeting to the floor expecting to hit the wall but instead going through it and into the now open closet door, curtesy of a scared looking Neville who mouthed a quick “sorry” then slammed the door shut locking it in the process.

Shock set into my veins causing me to jump up from the floor and pound on the door letting out a loud screech.

“Hey guys let me out! What’re you doing?” I could sense their bodies shoved up against the other side and I sighed in defeat sliding down onto my butt facing the door. Shadows passed on the other side making the light pass in and out. I pressed my ear up to the door, listening closely for new voices. Sudden stomping feet made me crawl back over to the far wall feeling around for anything to help me back to my feet. Without warning the janitor door swung open wide as another body was shoved in, stumbling over and the door slammed shut again.

“Bloody hell, let me out of here this instant! I’m going to kill all of you… especially you Fred!” I instantly recognized the new voice as my loathed ‘friend’ George Weasley. I scoffed and leant my head back so it was resting against the wall. Despite not being able to see him, I could feel George’s attention turn to me.

“Y/n… is that you?” I nodded silently then remembered he couldn’t exactly see me.

“Uh… yeah it’s me.” His stumbling footsteps approached me then stopped directly in front of me, his figure blocking the slit of light making its way in through the bottom crack in the door.

“Is that alright if I, um, sit next to you?” He sheepishly asked causing a faint blush to rise to my already redden cheeks.

“I suppose so, unless you’re plan to act arse again, then in that case no thanks.” George chuckled and I could practically hear the sincerity and guilt seeping through his voice making my heart warm a bit.
“Yeah about that I… I was pretty crappy to you and I know there’s no excuse for how I treated you and what I said. I just… I was… god I have no excuse for what I said because it was completely out of place and a horrible thing to say to you. It wasn’t even remotely true, I hope you know that. You’re beautiful and the funniest person I know, and I cherish every waking moment I get with you. I have no idea what came over me to say such nasty and rude things to you, but I do want to apologize… sincerely I am sorry for the false comments that I said to you   and being a good for nothing jerk to you all week long. That was pretty shitty of me as well.” He finished hanging his head low, or so I guess based on the shadows I could barely make out. 

My breath hitched and my mouth went dry. Did George just apologize to me? Most importantly, did he call me beautiful?

“Don’t worry about it… I took the whole thing too far and might have overreacted a bit but I was really hurt by what you said. I mean it came from nowhere. I don’t want to lose our friendship over one stupid and meaningless fight. I guess I was staring to freak out a little because lately it seems like we’ve been seeing less and less of each other… like we’re growing apart and I mean at first I thought maybe it was because I was younger than you and possibly it was embarrassing for you to be seen around me. Something tells me that’s not the case… is it?” 

He drew a sharp intake of air and the next thing I knew he was sitting beside me with his hand resting still on my knee. I could come undone at his very touch and relaxation took over when his skin touched mine.

“No not really. To be one hundred percent honest with you, which is what you deserve, I was… well it’s a silly thing to think about now in the right mind, but I was a tad scared of how my feelings were evolving more and more everyday towards you. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always fancied you and taken a liking towards you but it had become more vivid these last few weeks. I was starting to get jealous of seeing you with other guys. Even with Ron! So I figured if I distanced myself from you, these feelings of love might vanish. Not that they did. I think they got worse and I felt awful for being rude to you!” George expressed his hand moving from my bony knee down to my hand, and I don’t think he even realized it!

 While my blood was rushing a thousand miles per house he was subconsciously holding my hand! I turned my head to the wall pretending not to take note of his strong calloused hand in my own icy cold one.  After a minute of quietness, it became clear to me that in fact he did take hold of my hand on purpose and no it wasn’t an accident. While his words set into my body I giggled half nervous and half relieved. At least these feelings weren’t one sided.

“Wow… here I was scared out of my mind that I was going to have to live the rest of my life knowing you didn’t like me back and that I would have to watch you fall in love with another girl when the whole time-“A pair of soft plump lips pressing themselves against my own shut me up real fast. George’s lips moved in sync slowly with mine like they were meant to be, like it was magic. His free hand moved up to cup my warm cheek as the other stayed laced together with my hand. Hesitantly I pulled back, resting my forehead against his and slightly out of breath.

A genuine smile played on both of our faces as he spoke like satin,

“I was madly in love with you, but too scared to say a word?” I nodded flushed as he finished my previous sentence. He opened his mouth ready to say more when the janitor door squeaked out catching us both of guard trying to scurry away from one another, but not quick enough from Fred to see. He gave us a cheeky wink before pivoting on his heel to face the others declaring,

“Looks like the two lovebirds have worked out their differences.I will leave you two to finish what you’ve started.”

-Daizy xxx

anonymous asked:

Hi holmesianpose! What did you think of the S4 finale??

Hello dear anon!

Honestly, I thought it was a fucking disaster. 

I never really believed that canon johnlock would happen–in spite of all the narrative cues/signs/clues in the show itself that pointed to it happening, and all the brilliant readings fans have given demonstrating its narrative inevitability–I just never trusted moftiss to do it, especially based on the tone of the show overall in regards to queer issues/identity politics/radical politics/representation. So I was always sadly doubtful. But even if I saw it coming, it was still so massively devastating to see them miss out on the chance they had to *actually* write something groundbreaking. And what’s worse–and I think more important–is seeing the reaction it’s having on so many fans who really hoped/believed/expected it would happen. This show is so important to so many of us and for so many people it was a catalyst for discovering their sexuality and also for finding a community of like-minded queer people in fandom. So to see such a huge group of vulnerable queer people have their hopes shattered like that… it’s awful. That’s what’s getting to me the most. It’s 2017, we should have SO MUCH MORE queer representation in media than we do and it’s heartbreaking to see so many people who actually believed that *something good* might happen have their expectations not only completely trampled on by the show runners, but taken advantage of. It makes me fucking furious.

Sadly though–none of that came as a shock to me. I had reservations about getting involved with this show from the moment I saw the first episode and they had their first NO HOMO conversation. I didn’t trust them to ever make a queer relationship anything but the butt of their jokes. 

What DID come as a shock to me was how bad the episode was overall (and the entire season to be honest), canon johnlock aside. 

What bothered me most was the invention of the Evil Crazy Holmes sister. Not only was it irritating because she literally came from NOWHERE after four seasons (which is really uninteresting as a viewer when it comes to watching a mystery show and trying to work out the puzzle), she wasn’t a real character. She was a Gothic trope, literally the Madwoman in the Attic stereotype (like have these ass-holes ever even HEARD of feminist criticism?????) completely empty of ANY kind of characterization or personality. She was just an Evil Crazy entity put in place so that they could force Sherlock through a series of impossible moral situations and torture him over the course of the episode. And not only is that SO UNINTERESTING, it is soooooooooooooooooo problematic when it comes to depictions of female characters!!!!

I’m so fucking DONE with the stereotype of the crazy woman. And I’m even more done with the stereotype of the crazy, serial-killer autistic person (or someone on the spectrum who has difficulty with emotions). Like FUCK THAT SHIT. That is not an interesting or empathetic or realistic portrayal of mental illness in any way. 

It’s just not fucking realistic. What five year old child has EVER acted that way in the history of humanity? NONE. NONE FUCKING NONE.


And then there’s the issue of alllll the abandoned plot threads and holes. Like… I’m sorry, why did Euros randomly break out of her super fortified prison just to come and flirt with John Watson on a bus for a few months, pretend to be a random serial killer’s daughter to fuck with Sherlock, pretend to be John’s therapist and THEN GO BACK TO HER SUPER FORTIFIED PRISON??? Like why. What is even the motivation for any of that?

Oh, right. I remember. She’s “crazy”, so none of her actions have to make any narrative sense–right. How convenient.

The whole episode just felt so arbitrary and meaningless, and also, implausible. 

Like, how did Sherlock, John and Mycroft all survive the fucking GRENADE that was sent to 221B??? And how did Euros transport Sherlock, John, and Mycroft off the island to set them up in her last little trick at the Holmes estate (what even happened to Mycroft btw?? Never explained), and like how could one person have the ability to mind control everyone she meets like????????? And why did they show us footage of the lost little girl on the plane if it wasn’t really happening and it was just Euros all along????

What’s more, this episode meant that NONE of the plot holes and dropped threads from the previous episodes were given any kind of resolution. There’s almost too many to name. But for instance, all that stuff with Culverton Smith’s memory drug was *never* used for any other purpose, after they made such a big deal of it! (And that could have been so interesting to explain so many things!!! Like throughout the series!) All of the paralleling between Mary and Moriarty never led anywhere (why did she keep saying Miss Me???? Why did she try to murder Sherlock TWICE throughout the series? Why did John forgive her so easily for that? Why isn’t the whole AGRA backstory more interesting???? If John was so fucking in love with her why did he cheat on her with random crazy sister on the bus???? Why did John and Mary have a conversation about how their child was Satan?? Why did Imaginary Mary keep acting all threatening and telling John not to tell anyone about her??)

Honestly, there are just too many to name. I really hated The Six Thatchers, liked a lot of The Lying Detective but now that I know so much of it was just Euros bullshit I like it a lot less, and although there *were* moments that I liked in this episode (Mrs. Hudson’s vacuuming scene for instance), overall, I thought it was over the top, self-indulgent, and just… so disappointing.

I did like that it ended with John and Sherlock back in Baker Street together solving cases, and was SO RELIEVED that they didn’t pair Sherlock off with any random female character (thank god). But that fucking scene with Molly omg what a fucking piece of patriarchal garbage. I’m pissed for her character that they did that to her. She deserved so much better than that. 

I know there were other things I liked… but honestly I’m too pissed and disappointed right now to remember what they are.


#tbt : Most people are surprised to hear I have a BFA in ceramics. College was a hard lesson in not listening to myself, and as a result clay is a pretty emotionally charged medium. I haven’t touched it since. Someday I’ll make peace with it, but 5 years ago, I made art with it. Halfway through art school, I had this irrational urge to drop out and work on a farm. The idea came from nowhere, really. I had never set foot on a farm, didn’t know any farmers. I just thought, “I think I’d like this.” I was wrong: I LOVED it. But, it did ruin school for me. After a summer of spending every day outside, I went back to the city to spend eternity ruled by clocks and calendars in a windowless basement with an ever-present layer of clay dust. I was totally miserable. Looking back, I’m surprised I even finished, let alone created this piece titled “Motherhood”. But I was motivated by something more than a degree. It was out in the fields that I first heard whisperings of “the other way to farm”. I spent the entirety of my senior year researching agribusiness, factory farms, slaughterhouse practices, migratory workers, Monsanto. I was SO pissed. Why weren’t we talking about this more? I think I was mostly upset by the fact that I was in my early twenties and only just hearing of it. Maybe it was naive of me, but when I pictured farms, they weren’t miles of corn or feedlots with hundreds of cattle up to their knees in shit. It was so wrong on so many levels… I just couldn’t stand it, so I made art about it. (I’m going to get all worked up and start ranting about now, so…) Let’s toss out that old saying “ignorance is bliss” and educate ourselves. Everything affects everything. Especially in a capitalist society, we vote with our lifestyle, with how we spend our money. And it’s about priorities. By knowing where our food comes from and how it was raised/grown we are investing in our own health, that of our families, communities and the future of food. Seriously though. #supportyourlocalfarm

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gazyrlezon  asked:

Just realized something: when Euron brags about the women he has raped, he says: "I sowed their women with my seed" . Given the Greyjoy's house words, do you think it's another subtle hint towards his true intentions/opinions of the ironborn? Love your blog, btw.

(TWOW spoilers)

Thanks! Euron’s putting on a precisely calibrated show throughout that introductory scene, and yep, pretty much every line of dialogue is a thread in that tapestry, so forceful and fully-formed is GRRM’s perspective on this character. Remember, Euron is returning from forced exile, his legend cuts both ways, and indeed we know from what we’ve seen from the Ironborn in AFFC so far that revanchists and reformers alike are very leery of the Crow’s Eye, as he’s a danger to both. So what we see in that feast tent is Euron responding to this challenge by leaning into his reputation, using it to bolster his appeal and undercut his brothers and niece, and by doing so laying the groundwork for his victory in “The Drowned Man” (as well as the execution of his master plan, beginning in “The Reaver” before going nuclear in “The Forsaken”).

As you say, the basic organizing principle of every scene in which Euron appears in AFFC is that he’s trying to pass as None More Ironborn, the Ur-Kraken, while at the same time he can’t resist showing off his contempt for the Ironborn and how above them he considers himself to be, which is how GRRM communicates to us that something else, something very very wrong, is going on with this particular Greyjoy. So how does that play out in the scene in question? Aeron Damphair cannot bring himself to say (or even fully think about) what his brother did to him, so instead roots his opposition to Euron in the tribal mores grounding the kingsmoot:

“We shall have no king but from the kingsmoot.” The Damphair stood. “No godless man—”

And of course, Euron waves away those objections–and the cultural framework behind them–as if they’re nothing:

“—may sit the Seastone Chair, aye.” Euron glanced about the tent. “As it happens I have oft sat upon the Seastone Chair of late. It raises no objections.”

At one level, Euron’s going after Aeron’s legitimacy by cutting through the sour priest’s sophistries. But it’s also a giveaway that Euron doesn’t give a shit about Aeron’s god. In Euron’s mind, just as with his murder of Harlon, the fact that C’thulhu hasn’t risen to pull Euron down means that Euron is entitled to said chair. And everything else, of course:

“What do you want?”

“The world.” Firelight glimmered in Euron’s eye.

But then Euron gets into the meat of his pitch, and this is really where his character is established:

“Who knows more of gods than I? Horse gods and fire gods, gods made of gold with gemstone eyes, gods carved of cedar wood, gods chiseled into mountains, gods of empty air…I know them all. I have seen their peoples garland them with flowers, and shed the blood of goats and bulls and children in their names. And I have heard the prayers, in half a hundred tongues. Cure my withered leg, make the maiden love me, grant me a healthy son. Save me, succor me, make me wealthy… protect me! Protect me from mine enemies, protect me from the darkness, protect me from the crabs inside my belly, from the horselords, from the slavers, from the sellswords at my door. Protect me from the Silence.” He laughed. “Godless? Why, Aeron, I am the godliest man ever to raise sail! You serve one god, Damphair, but I have served ten thousand. From Ib to Asshai, when men see my sails, they pray.” 

The priest raised a bony finger. “They pray to trees and golden idols and goat-headed abominations. False gods…”

“Just so,” said Euron, “and for that sin I kill them all. I spill their blood upon the sea and sow their screaming women with my seed. Their little gods cannot stop me, so plainly they are false gods. I am more devout than even you, Aeron. Perhaps it should be you who kneels to me for blessing.”

Euron has been on a pilgrimage of sacrifice with his eyes on divine power; long before the massacred deities and hints of blood magic in “The Forsaken,” we see the Crow’s Eye linking together violence and godhood. (Indeed, much as I loved that TWOW chapter, I can’t agree that the more LSD-soaked cosmic-horror aspects of it came out of nowhere. This really was baked into Euron’s character from the very start; it’s not GRRM losing the plot, it’s the plot getting weirder and more ambitious.) Euron’s practically riffing on Jung and Campbell, seeing a monomyth emerging from all the different cultures he’s pillaged, the same prayer in different tongues from all his victims…and the stinger is that he’s out to topple and replace this litany of gods. And in “The Reaver,” of course, we learn where this all began:

“When I was a boy, I dreamt that I could fly,” he announced. “When I woke, I couldn’t…or so the maester said. But what if he lied?”

He’s not a god yet, though, and he needs the Ironborn for their ships and as metaphysical cannon fodder. This is where the symbolism of the smiling eye and the Crow’s Eye comes in: the former is his public face, the latter represents the sorcerer-self that, as Damphair tells us at the kingsmoot, he keeps hidden from his fellow Ironborn. And he keeps it hidden with what else but an eyepatch, because Euron’s goal in this scene is to smuggle his apocalyptic worldview and agenda into the story in the guise of, y’know, yo ho pass the rum a pirate’s life for me! It’s performance as parody, Loki pretending to be Cap. Because Euron loves nothing more than playing with his brothers like toys, his pirate suit is meant in part as a savage satire of Victarion, while also arranged as a trap for Aeron. Which works. By calling all non-C’thulhus “false gods,” the priest inadvertently opens the door for Euron to spin his exile, his obsession with (and marination in) foreign religion/philosophy/magic/drugs, everything that those not already at his back find unsettling about Euron, as him basically being a cultural ambassador for the Old Way. I’ve been out there fighting the good fight for narrow-minded butchers like you fine gentlemen! I’ve sailed into the Doom and back out again proving that this ignorant revanchist strain of the Ironborn is superior to all other ways of life, with every throat I slit, with every seed I sow. All you have to do is live like me, and Westeros will be yours. 

This is Euron’s platform, and it works.

“Fools,” said the priest, “fools and thralls and blind men, that is what you are. Do you not see what stands before you?”

“A king,” said Quellon Humble.

In this way, Euron turns his major political weakness into a benefit (and again, cuts away at Damphair’s legitimacy and public persona) before pulling out the big gun horn at the kingsmoot.

Forever: Kylo Ren imagine

The morning air was cold, no sun to seep through the windows. They where in space, in his ship heading to the star killer base.

He smiled when he felt a small female moving closer to him, taking up most of the blankets. His mind filled with their sinful mentioned from the night before.

(Y/n) was perfect. He loved her, she was everything to him. He thought he would never fall in love. He didn’t even know if he was able to love. But then (Y/n) came into his life throwing everything upside down. At first he didn’t know how to deal with all these feeling, he tried to stay away from her but he couldn’t. It was like the force was pulling the two of them together.

His large hand came down to her slightly pink cheek, moving some hair away from her perfectly sculpted face. Her tempting plump lips were apart as small breaths came from her. His eyes followed down her neck and jaw, marks from the night before traced her beautiful skin. A thin golden necklace laid on her, a small black gem like rock hung between her breasts. The necklace he gave her a long while back.

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Fisherman And Mermaid

Hi jake! I was your secret santa! @star-vs-secrets

I wrote you an Alternate universe! And if you enjoy it, I’m working on a sequel!


Silent. It was silent when you were on the ocean. The only sounds were the occasional seagull yell. No one to yell at him for not catching enough fish, no annoying customers demanding discounts and no petty thieves trying to steal his fish. Marco preferred the ocean than land. He loved the smell of salt water. He loved the predictable pattern of the waves. He loved that he could escape. He liked being alone. But there was one thing he didn’t like about following his grandfather’s footsteps and becoming a fisherman. And that thing was the loneliness. He liked being alone, but that didn’t mean he liked being lonely.

Marco sighed, pulling another net up off the side of the boat, pulling in about 20 to 30 fish. There didn’t seem to be a lot out today. Emptying the fish into his cooler, he tossed the net back into the ocean. He expected to hear a splash as it hit the water. He wasn’t expecting nothing. Marco looked over the side, only to groan in frustration. It was stuck on the buoy tied to his ship.

“Unbelievable.” He mumbled, leaning over to untangle the net from the plastic floating mechanism. He never really wanted to be a fisherman. He always wanted to be a marine biologist, travelling across the world, exploring deep caverns underwater and finding new species. That was his dream. To explore the ocean underneath him. Instead of sitting on top of it, stuck doing the same job over and over. As he pulled the last knot out of the net, he pulled it back up onto the boat.

“You really failed at tossing that net huh?” A voice came from nowhere. Marco jumped, spinning his head side to side to see if someone had snuck aboard his ship.

“Down here silly!” The voice rang out again, Marco now recognising it as a female voice. He froze, turning slightly to look down the side of the boat. He almost screamed to see a girl there, bobbing up and down in the water.

“Oh my god! You need to get out of there!” He said, throwing his rope ladder over the side of the boat.

“Nah I don’t.” She said, shrugging. Marco tugged at his hair. She was gonna die of hypothermia!

“You really do!” He yelled, as he ran to get his emergency blanket.

She laughed. “Well… Ok!” She said, as she grabbed onto the ladder, the boat tilting slightly from her weight.

Marco let out a sigh of relief as he dug through the pile of safety equipment. A thump came from behind him and he assumed she had gotten up and onto the deck. Grabbing the pink blanket from the bottom of the pile he rushed over, wrapping her tightly in the blanket.

“You really don’t have to do that.” She protested, but she let him wrap it tighter.

“You’re gonna get hypothermia if I don’t.” He said, leaning back to make sure she was ok. Something sparkled from underneath the blanket, like the sun hit a mirror at just the right angle.

“Oh sorry! I must have dropped a fish on the deck!” He said, reaching down and grabbing it between his fingers as he tugged on it.

“Ow!” She said, her legs moving underneath the blanket.

“Did the fish bite you?” He asked, ready to go get a bandaid and disinfectant.

“No you just pulled on my tail too hard.” She said, a big smile on her face as she pulled the blanket up.

This time Marco actually did scream. “What the hell is that?!” He yelled, scrambling away on all fours until he hit the side of the boat.

She giggled, shrugging the blanket off. Now Marco knew why she didn’t need to get out of the water. “Don’t be silly! It’s my tail!” She laughed, flapping it up and down.

Marco shook his head side to side. “N-No! Mermaids aren’t real!” He said, staring at her. He finally noticed everything he should have before. She had long blonde hair that covered her chest, a starfish sitting on her head like a barrette, her tail was long and teal, with a few pink scales every now and again.

“Mermaid? Is that what humans call us?” She asked, leaning forward on her elbows, her tail
swinging behind her. “I like that name!”

Marco gulped, now noticing just how gorgeous the girl was. “W-What do you call yourselves?”

She sat up, her tail curling at the edges. “We call ourselves sirens!”

Marco’s eyes grew wide as he threw his arms up to protect his face. “Are you here to get revenge for your fish brethren?!” He squeaked, looking away.

She froze, her smile growing wider and wider before she burst into laughter. “Oh my fins!” She laughed, holding her sides as her tail flapped side to side. “That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard all week!” Tears formed at the corners of her eyes. “Fish aren’t related to sirens! They’re our food source!”

Marco’s panic decreased, a small smile on his face at seeing her so happy. “So you aren’t gonna kill me and feed me to sharks?”

She wiped at the corners of her eyes. “No! Why would I do that?” She said, her laughter slowly dying down. “I was just wondering if I could hang out with you for a little bit!” She smiled, wrapping her arms around her tail as it bent where her knees would be. “Aaaaannndd maybe borrow some food.”

Marco barked a laugh, the adrenaline from earlier escaping through it. “Oh my god…” He laughed, burying his head into his hands. “Ok, Ok,” He said, pushing his hands forward as if to fight off an invisible monster. “You can hang out on board and eat some food since I’m here for about a week,”

She began to clap.

“But! In exchange you have to tell me your name.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

Her smile grew. “Oh! That’s easy!” She said waving her hand in front of her face. “I’m Star!”

Marco smiled back, before sticking his hand out. “Well it’s nice to meet you Star. I’m Marco!”

She eagerly grabbed his hand and shook vigorously. “I like your name!” She said, her eyes sparkling. Marco now noticed how they matched the color of the water at a coral reef, bright blue. They had so much happiness in them.

“I like your’s too.” He said, feeling himself grow fonder and fonder of the girl in front of him.

Star stared at the boy, taking in the appearance of him. He had nice hair that was slightly messy, yet tamed. He had warm brown eyes that reminded her of the time her friend stole that ‘cho-co-late’ from the land. He had a nice smile on his face and right below his eye was a beauty mark.

Her grin cracked wider, as she threw her hands up into the air. “HUGS!” She yelled, throwing herself at him.

Marco’s smile slipped off his face, being immediately replaced with surprise as the two of them hit the eck, her tail smacking against his feet. He opened his eyes to see a bright red Star staring back at him, her eyes wide as their noses touched at the tips. And now in this literal sea of blue, they were the reddest things out here. Grabbing her shoulders, he pushed up, lifting her off him with ease.

“Next time warn me if you’re gonna give me a hug like that.” He chuckled trying to hide his embarrassment, as she flopped to the side.

Star grinned, her eyes growing in excitement. “There’s gonna be a next time?!” She exclaimed bouncing up and down.

He laughed, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Yeah! I mean that’s what friends do!” He said, standing up and walking over to the cooler. “So do you want to eat the fish raw, or do you want it cooked like mine?”

She cocked her head to the side, her mouth in an extremely kissable shape of an O-. Marco shook his head back and forth, trying to cool his cheeks.

“What’s ‘cooked’?”


Star bit into her 5th fish, taking in the savory taste. “Oh my gosh! This is the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten!”

She was so happy eating fish after fish, as he poked at the one on the grill.

“It’s soooooo good…” She moaned, biting the meat off the bones.

“I’m glad you like it!” He said, taking a bite of his own. He had grown bored of the taste of fish. But seeing her enjoy it so much, made it taste slightly better.

“I can’t believe that I’ve never had cewked things before!” She said, grabbing the one he just took off the grill.

“It’s cooked.” He chuckled, setting the bones of his own fish to the side. “Oh hey! You said you’re a siren?”

She nodded, digging into the fish. “Yeaf! I amf!” She spoke around the meat, before swallowing it. “Yeah! I am!” She spoke clearly now.

“Does that mean you sing?” He asked, leaning back on his hands, the sun finally disappearing over the edges of the horizon.

She nodded, her tail swishing back and forth. “Yeah! You want to hear it?”

Marco’s eyes grew wide as he crossed his legs underneath himself. “Yeah! I really want to!”

She smiled, pulling herself up and onto the side of the boat, her body perfectly silhouetted against the sunset. She cleared her throat, grabbing onto the boat’s edge for support.

Marco couldn’t believe how beautiful her voice was. It sounded more beautiful than the best musician in the world. The sun lowered, the waves reflecting the light, projected onto Star making her look like a goddess as she broke into a happier tune.

Marco gaped at her as she sang, her hair softly moving with the breeze, as if it had never been wet in the first place. And finally she pulled a high note that even trained singers couldn’t pull off, and she let go of the boat's’ edge and fell backwards, straight off the edge. He shrieked, scrambling to his feet and rushing to the side of the boat where she fell. Nothing there. Frantically, he looked around trying to find his new friend.

All of a sudden, she breached the water, flying about ten feet into the air over the boat. He stared in awe as her scales reflected the setting sun, sending sparkles dazzling against the deck. She let out a laugh as she landed back onto the deck, splashing water over it.

“Taadaa!!” She exclaimed, sticking her hands out to her sides, giving him jazz hands.

Marco stood there, a shocked expression on his face. “That… was…. AMAZING!” He exclaimed, rushing over to her, grabbing her hands. He didn’t even notice the red tint on her cheeks.

“Aw thanks Marco! But that was nothing!” She mumbled under her breath, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

“No that was amazing! You’re amazing!” He exclaimed, tilting her head up to look him in the eye. “That was wonderful!”

Star felt her heartbeat pick up, the close proximity of the handsome young man hitting her like a tidal wave. “T-Thanks…” She whispered, scooting closer to him, their lips ghosting over each other’s.

Marco felt his smile drop, his eyes traveling downward to her lips. Slowly, he moved forward, capturing her lips in his own. She melted into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck, her tail waving back and forth. As they separated, they smiled at each other, both of them knowing that it would be the start of something magical.


Ok Auntie MJ,

My roommate/best friend and I have the serious issue of not understandingwhy menstruation is something that we’re supposed to be ashamed of oruncomfortable with when we have zero control over it. I don’t understand whywe’re supposed to be grossed out by the fact that we have no control of when we start, how much we bleed, or how long it lasts. Why are menstrual products so expensive when condoms are often free or very very cheap and very easily accessible?? It is something that makes me very angry and frustrated. Like my roommate is 20 and only just started having her period regularly and she gets made fun of all the time because she never had to deal with it before so she’s just now learning….This is just something that I know a lot of girls struggle with and the struggle doesn’t end when you grow up. I’m 20 and it’s still a problem.

—  ramblingsofahopefulwriter

Dear Hopeful,

Be of good cheer! Auntie MJ is here and she is MORE THAN HAPPY to discuss this. This entire answer is going to be full of period facts and period fictions and personal period stories.

The history of menstruation-hate is long. I am not an expert on the subject, but I know it goes WAY BACK. Certainly there are instances in the Bible referring to it, and explaining that that is the time of the month when women are “unclean” and have to go sleep in a different tent. There are, I am certain, places in the world where even now women are made to go somewhere else to sleep when menstruating. But it goes far beyond where we rest. It’s seen as (one of our many) weakness and problems and something that makes us unfit to old certain jobs and is generally used as an excuse for prejudice against us. Also jokes. Except the jokes are not funny if we make them because gross, right? How dare we. (Tina Fey tells a story about this in Bossypants. She had a lot of trouble getting a sketch about classic pads into the show because a lot of the men were just very, very uncomfortable and didn’t understand why it was HILARIOUS. Which it is. You can see it here.

When you first get the news as a kid that this is about to happen to you (if you are one of the people it will happen to), it can be a bit of a shocker. My reaction was something like, “Wait, what now? Every month? Actual blood? What?” The reason is actually awesome. People who menstruate have at least some of the required equipment to make other people. It doesn’t necessarily mean that you can, or that you have to or want to or anything like that. It just means that some or all of the parts are there and that the factory is doing its thing.

Periods cannot be compared. Every one is its own unique thing. While there aspects that are generally the same from person to person, there are many variables as well—frequency, duration, amount, pain, tiredness, hormonal changes, emotional changes. The range of what is healthy and normal is vast. If you have questions about what is healthy and normal, speak to your doctor. Some weird period behavior can be a sign of a problem. I found this out when I was diagnosed with endometriosis. I had no idea what I was experiencing was not normal, because I’d always had my period, and my period was its own thing. “Do you bleed heavily?” I was asked. I shrugged. I’d never measured it. “Well,” he said, “do you have to put down a towel or a blanket at night?” I laughed and said, “Doesn’t everyone do that?” Not everyone does that. But a lot of people do! (My most recent breakthrough: our dog is now fully housetrained and we had a huge pack of puppy wee-wee pads just sitting around. I was wondering what to do with them and then I had a Lightbulb Moment and now they go right into the bed. I feel like a true household pioneer for working this one out. THIS WORKS. TRY IT FOR YOURSELF.)

My point is, as long as your doctor says that medically what is going on is fine—it’s fine. And even if it’s troublesome, it doesn’t make you weird. There is no judgment on this. There is no Ms. Period Contest in which your period will be judged. Who are these people making fun of your friend for getting her period at twenty? I have serious questions about this. Send them here. I need to Speak To Them.

While a period can be messy—in the sense that any liquid spill can be messy—it is not dirty. Springing a leak is annoying. Some people feel soul-crushing embarrassment when this happens. I cannot feel you how to feel about this, but I can tell you I certainly will feel nothing but empathy on your behalf. I will tell you something that happened to me only a few months ago! I was AT A REALLY FANCY DINNER and the period came from nowhere like a WEASEL in the NIGHT! I didn’t even know it was happening. For once, it gave no sign. I had a Strange Feeling That Something Was Wrong. I carefully reached around and confirmed my suspicion. I realized that I had likely taken out the chair I was in, which luckily was made of wood. I continued to talk as normal while I made a detailed plan of the room in my mind and figured out how to get from my seat to the bathroom while keeping my back turned away from people as much as possible (try doing this in a crowded restaurant). This involved a lot of sliding along walls to politely stay out of the path of imaginary waiters. When I got to the bathroom, I realized the extent of the damage. Things were bad. My outfit was ruined. I texted a friend at the table and asked if I could borrow her sweater. She came and brought it to me and spent the rest of the night cold. I managed to clean the chair. The cloth napkin, well, that came home with me. I figured it was no longer any use to the restaurant. The skirt was a lost cause. Of course, there is always the matter of making the IMPROMPTU arrangements in the bathroom. We have all had to MacGyver our way out of this situation. ANYTHING WILL DO. (Note to TV executives: one show I would watch FOR SURE would be PERIOD MACGYVER in which someone gets their period in increasingly awkward situations and has to build a pad out of whatever is on hand. You could start with the usual suspects like paper and cloth and build to more exotic items, eventually culminating in someone stopping a bomb from going off by using their period. I would watch THE HELL out of that.) 

I continued the rest of the dinner as though nothing had happened, because really, nothing had. I tell this story because I have NO PROBLEMS with this. IT HAPPENS. You can borrow my sweater to tie around your waist. And thank you to everyone who has lent me a sweater or coat to tie around mine.

As to why period items are not free and available everywhere—ask the patriarchy. In the meantime, they are one of the most needed items in shelters and YOU CAN DONATE THEM because they are really needed!

People who use periods as prejudice against individuals who get them are being gross and ignorant. “But!” these ***holes say, “periods make you crazy! That’s why women can’t hold office! They’d blow everything up!” Period-havers, usually women, have been handling business and being rational for millennia while dealing with sometimes major hormonal flux. Warmongers and bomb-throwers and civilization destroyers (often men) are…oh right. No, no. Do go on. I was listening. There was just a wonderful bird over your shoulder and I was looking at it. It’s gone now. Don’t look for it. It flew away.

Some emotional fluctuation is common. THIS IS TRUE OF ALL HUMAN BEINGS.

In some cases, periods can cause serious states of mental distress. Here’s another fact to blow your mind: serious states of mental distress are found in ALL SUBSETS OF HUMAN BEINGS. Many women have been pathologized for their period-having because jerks have also been around for a long time. Much of this prejudice was spread by experts, some of whom also believed that the uterus moved around the body like some kind of spider. Some just thought the period must be bad because…

…because? Period? Because women? Because must be?

Guess what, chumps. The fact that you have a vague sense of unease about my period is balanced out by the fact that I don’t actually care. I wish you well in your travels through your own notions, but I have reality to contend with and a pad to built out of nothing but a wrench, two feet of fishing rope, and these bomb parts.

You’re doing fine. Period.


Auntie MJ

The Glass Wall

Description: Sam x Reader friendship but overall it’s mainly Gabriel in this little number. This is my take on the typical Meta!fic everyone seems to so love. The Reader is a hunter who begins to find out about ‘our’ world with the help of Gabriel… and The Narrator.
Words: 2,853
Warnings: None
Author’s Note: This is from the POV of the narrator, 99% of it still reads like a normal reader insert but just to give you a heads up. I’m excited about this one, was really good fun to write!! Seeing as it’s a bit different, I’m going to tag a couple people in hopes of feedback because it may not be the thing people typically search! Thank you to @adriellej for being my guinea pig and also this was beta’d by the ever fantastic @winchester-with-wings <3

Tagging: @thinkwritexpress @autoblocked @badbitchesofsupernatural @ellen-reincarnated1967 @spnfanficpond @ilostmyshoe-79 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing

You, Y/N, are used to exciting stories unfolding without even flinching. It was going to be like that for you though. You were a hunter. Born and raised in the US of A, life was looking just peachy until one day a vampire decided to wipe out your family.

The vengeance bug set in and within a few months, each vampire had been systematically wiped out. I’ve heard the same story over and over. Between hunter to hunter the cliches of how they start out are the same and have been told a million times, and I’m sorry to say in this one you are no different. It hadn’t been until your mid twenties, when you were elbow deep in a slimy substance you’d rather not think on, that you had met Sam and Dean. Their story was similar, a model example of the tragedy, heartbreak and death that came hand in hand with the job.

Now, I feel I should confront the elephant in the room. Why I, the narrator, have addressed you directly. I did in the first paragraph but you may not have noticed with how often it happens.

Maybe this is your first time hearing it in as many words, or maybe you’ve had lengthy discussions with Castiel; there are alternate universes. In my world, your life is a TV show and accompanied by the Winchester brothers you keep thousands of people amused on a regular basis. Every cut, bruise and broken limb recorded to be watched in slow motion at a later date.

In my world, you are a story. I don’t mean to diminish your achievements or offend… Let me reword that sentence. You are a hero whose story has been written again and again by a hundred different writers. Stories where you’ve been in love with Dean or Sam, or even Lucifer or Crowley, stories where you’ve met untimely ends or lived happily to a ripe old age. This seems strange, but everyone interprets you differently. There’s a main plot line, yes, but there are thousands of others too, separate adventures with different versions of yourself.

Anyway, I digress. By me discussing this as I am, your story doesn’t progress, it sits in a paused state while I chatter on about things that could be easier explained later or aren’t really relevant at all. So, let us get straight to it and allow me to fill in some blanks as to why I talk of and to you, Y/N, in the way that I do.

Keep reading

Can’t stress what loft89experience says. Do not think about Loft it will ruin your night. Tonight I watched Andrea move people to front row without “getting noticed” I was sad and brushed it off. I forgot about it and enjoyed the show and then 5 minutes later Andrea came out of NOWHERE like I really don’t know where she came from and gave us loft ITS SO WEIRD BUT YOULL NEVER EXPDCT IT WHEN IT HAPPENS OK GOODNIGY EVERYONE THANK U FOR THE KIND MESSGAES ILL POST MY STORY TOMORROW AJJSJDKA

anonymous asked:

Ok so it's fluff I mean who doesn't love fluff, something like he catches you singing or something (sorry it so dumb)I just wanted to read something that'll make me giggly and stuff anyway thank you

“You have a really pretty voice.”

The sound came from nowhere, the spoons you were rinsing out slipping from your wet fingers and clattering against the sink. In your frenzy to close the faucet as well as pick up the spoons, your nerves got the best of you and the next thing you knew, the bottle of liquid soap was spilling onto the counter, suds flying up in the air. “How long were you standing there?!”

Harry laughed, and before you knew it, his hands were around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder as he turned his head slightly to place a sweet kiss to the skin underneath your ear. “Long enough to know that you sing like an angel. I didn’t know you have a voice like that.”

There was something behind his voice and the way his arms were wound lovingly around you that caused a warm flush to grace the surface of your skin, the newfound heat radiating off your body bringing a soft smile to Harry’s face. “I don’t sing like an angel. You do.”

"Hey,” he drawled reproachfully, patting your hips twice so you’d turn around and face him. “None of that. You’re amazing, don’t ever think otherwise.”

Your skin was still burning from the embarrassment of being caught. No one had ever heard you sing, not even your parents. “I-I…” you let out a breathy chuckle in a feeble attempt to ease your nerves, grabbing at the hand towel beside the sink to wipe your damp fingers. “I mean, it’s not—I don’t really…sing.”

Harry smiled. “But I just heard you.” Rays of light were filtering in through the window above the sink and Harry’s eyes were sparkling, an ethereal green gazing deep into your soul, and before you knew it, his hands were enveloping your own, his skin warm and comforting. “Why are you so nervous?” he murmured, lips ducking down to rest just beside your temple. “You’re lovely. You can’t shy away from my compliments forever.” Before you knew it, your bodies were swaying slightly, your arms instinctively reaching up to wrap around his neck, fingers lightly wrapping around his soft brown locks and he grinned, dimples prominent. “How about,” he started, pressing a light kiss to your lips before continuing his train of thought. “You sing, and we dance.”

Like magnets, your lips met again, and then you were giggling into his mouth, eliciting one from him as well. “I’ll only sing if you agree to duet with me.”

Harry was quiet for a moment, pursing his lips thoughtfully before nodding his head. “Agreed.”