turned out being longer than i intended it to be

anonymous asked:

Tobirama as a dad? Throughout the years i guess

Tobirama Senju

•Ridiculously overprotective father, doesn’t matter at what age. Babyproofs the shit out of his house. Watches his baby like a hawk. Literally, the second the baby starts crawling, Tobirama loses it. There are so many ways a baby can hurt themselves??? Every little possible situation just gives him anxiety. He would rather keep the baby in the crib all day to completely avoid any potential accidents. Or when he’s holding his baby, he doesn’t let them crawl 2 feet away from him before pulling them back into his lap. He just worries too much. He’s not that good with babies tbh

•He’s always going to be busy with work, whether he’s Hokage yet or not. So it’s likely he won’t have much time for his newborn baby. It sucks, but that’s just how it is. It’s a big downside to Tobirama starting a family, because he’s married to his work at times. Which he quickly regrets, because he knows he needs to be there for his baby during their early years, and can’t leave everything to his s/o. His baby needs a father

•A lot of the time spent with his baby is Tobirama helping them learn to walk or talk. Basically helping them grow. Imagine Tobirama walking with his baby around the house, holding their arms up as they slowly stroll around. So cute

•As they grow older, Tobirama still tries to be there for them, but duty calls. The village is paramount. He’ll have his child with him at the office on slow days though, but they have to be careful not to mess with his paperwork or he gets annoyed

•It’s around this age that Tobirama will train them, if they wish to be trained. He’s just as hard on them as he would be one of his students, maybe even harder

•Tobirama can’t stand their “rebellious” teenage years. Or the phase where they might be distant and isolated, refusing to talk to their parents. Tobirama is so used to being on top of everything that the moment he thinks he’s not keeping thorough tabs on his kid, he gets all paranoid. HE JUST HAS TO MONITOR EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE THAT’S HOW HE IS. But his child can’t really get away with sneaking around anyway, since Tobirama supervises them at all times, even when he’s in his office. You’re not likely to get away from a sensor like Tobirama. He follows their movements wherever they go in the village because he knows their chakra so well. Is it a little maniac? Sure. But Tobirama gets that way when it comes to his family

•Oooo Tobirama would get into soooo many arguments with his kid if they really were the rebellious, stubborn type. If they have his genes, they’re bound to inherit that personality anyway, and they’re also prone to arguing. “Just like your father,” people would probably say. But Tobirama denies it. Would blame it on his s/o tbh, like “They get that from your side of the family”

•At the end of the day though, he knows he can’t be too hard on his kid. He wants them to grow up strong and rational, and to know how to make the right decisions, hence why he’s so tenacious with their upbringing. But you’ll often find him coming home from a long day at work, and wanting nothing more than to spend time with his child. When they’re younger, it’s picking them out of their crib and holding them in his arms. When they’re older, it’s coming into their room to check up on them, ask about their day, offer to train or spar. Which means a lot, since Tobirama rarely has free time. The fact he’s willing to spend that free time on family, and not catch up on work, says a lot

pda (we just don’t care)

Title: PDA (We Just Don’t Care)
Pairing: Tyler Joseph/Reader
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Public shenanigans, lots of dirty talk.
A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble, but it turned out a little longer than I intended. Dedication and thanks to @bringbacktomdelonge for being the best friend, and for putting this idea in my head. There’s some more stuff coming up, keep your eyes open!

Originally posted by blurryfacesquad

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

idk if the op of that post is straight or not, and i get they probably had good intentions but like. i'm so tired of seeing people say shit like "it proves platonic relationships can be stronger than romantic ones" or most commonly "why can't you enjoy their relationship without making it romantic." in the majority of tv shows, movies, and anime i've watched, in most of the manga and books i've read, in most of the games i've played, friendship and platonic relationships tend to be the (1/2)

the strongest relationships in the whole story. b/c writing for het relationships is so lackluster and boring, due to heteronormativity, guy + girl = ~tru luv~ even when it’s the weakest relationship present. even when it’s the worst relationship. we know that friendship/platonic relationships can be the strongest bonds out there, even stronger than romantic bonds. we know that. we don’t need this repeated to by us when we’re constantly told this, and then told by others (2/?)

(not talking about the op of that post here, but other fandoms in general) that we’re devaluing m/m friendships bc we ship two guys together. and i guarantee that half the notes on that, be it in the tags or reblogs, are people going “omg yeah, guys can be friends without being romantically involved!” or something similar. this turned out longer than i intended, and i’m sorry about that. it’s just so damn annoying to go into the ship tags and see someone talk about friendship. (¾)

like. we already know. we know very well that non-romantic bonds can be stronger than romantic ones. we know. we don’t need people telling us this, and coming into our tags on occasion to let us know. go tell it to the hundreds of thousands of homophobic straight people who refuse to understand it and only agree with it bc it means they don’t have to worry about two guys actually being in love with each other. ugh. (4/4)

I 100% agree with you. Strong platonic relationships in media have been around for years, it’s not like this is a new thing for us to celebrate and fawn over.

Het pairings can share a damn pencil and have it considered true love but oh no when it’s a same sex pairing you can literally be fucking soulmates and still have people calling it platonic :/

And more importantly, have you noticed how ‘the importance of platonic relationships’ is somehow only ever relevant when it’s about a mlm/wlw pairing?? For some odd reason het pairings never get shit like this! How odd right???? I sure wonder why that is. 

Anonymous asked: could you write an imagine where rami is accidental friends with benefits with the reader bc they keep sleeping with each other but the reader always tells him off afterwards bc she lives in england and thinks she’s too fucked up for such a pure cinnamon roll and isn’t sure she can give rami what he might want in the near future (family and certainty and shit) eventually rami confronts her, they (SMUT) end up in bed together and idk u can make up an ending? SORRY ITS SO LONG AND DETAILED OMG

A/N: This ended up being way longer than I intended but I liked the concept so here you go! Smut warning around ¾ of the way through as well as slight angst. 


‘We can’t keep doing this.’ You panted, trying to catch your breath as Rami slowly rolled off of you.

‘Why?’ He sounded exasperated as he turned his head to look at you. You kept your eyes fixed on the ceiling.

‘I’m going home like, next week.’ You rolled out of bed, trying to ignore his eyes on you as you wrapped a towel around yourself.

‘What’s that got to do with anything?’ He was propped up on his elbows now, the slight glow of sweat on his torso causing you to avert your eyes.

‘Well I’ll be gone then, won’t I?’ Rami didn’t say anything to that and you could feel the silence filling up the room like smog. You needed to escape before it escalated any further.

‘I need to shower.’ You mumbled and left the room.

You felt sick as you ran your hands through the suds in your wet hair. The look on Rami’s face broke your heart when you told him you were going. But you’d only come to the US to see the sights, not wind up in bed with a major celebrity.

You’re fucking amazing.

Admittedly, he had been inside you when he’d said that but it still made you palpitate a little when you recalled the words. You knew that you had fallen for him. Hard. But it could never work – long distance never did.  

You dried off still deep in thought and exited the bathroom. Rami was pulling his shirt back on, his expression stony as you watched him from the other side of the room.

‘You’re never going to let me in are you?’

The sudden question from him startled you.

‘What do you mean?’

Rami merely shook his head, his eyes on the floor as he pulled his shoes on.

‘See you later Y/N.’ He was out the door of your apartment before you knew it, the hood of his jacket pulled up over his head on the off chance he might be spotted.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

could you please write silverflint pillow talk? thank you.

Okay so I intended to write something sweet but it ended up being drama instead. I am sorry. It is set in modern times and turned out longer than intended but I hope you will enjoy it anyway ><

__________________________________________________________
                                                                                        

11:23pm.
James only looked at the clock for a moment, having forgotten what time it was soon after. It didn’t matter. Not now, when they were in bed together, lacking everything bar the three blankets John couldn’t live without and an irrational amount of pillows surrounding them.
Oh and of course the hot chocolate John had now resting against the blankets over Flint’s hip, never ceasing to be surprised about receiving one mug of the self-made drink every single day.

The warmth which had grown and lingered was now slowly cooling off, clinging to their skin when neither of them was in the mood to get up and take a much needed shower.
Despite the satisfying exhaustion there was no tiredness quite yet, so James had picked up his book once more, his reading glasses having slipped low on his nose – always aware of his lover’s eyes upon him. Having reread the same line at least 3 times by now without being able to recall what it said, he eventually gave up and placed the book aside, looking towards the man at his side – the man who had claimed his heart with concerning ease many months ago.

And not only had John claimed his heart – there was so much more between them; a single exchanged glance enough to read the other’s mind. It was no different now. As much as settling back into his pillow and succumbing to the tiredness weighing him down would have been nice, there was something upsetting the balance between them.
It was a subtle thing, but John’s been around long enough to know when something was even slightly off.  It was the sort of intimate subtlety that they had figured out in one another quicker than either of them had probably thought the other would, but now it was practically their second language.
James could remember that Silver had once joked that it had become almost impossible to play poker against him by this point without either making up completely new tells or simply by relying on the luck of the cards to allow him to win.
And it was true, that game had become more of a challenge to know oneself than it had to know the other as their opponent.

What followed the lingering eye contact was silence. James knew John would wait until he spoke up, he wouldn’t urge him to say anything before James didn’t feel ready to speak. It wasn’t as much about patience as it was about understanding – they were careful around each other’s edges and secrets, never applying enough force to risk breaking something.

“How did you know the man was an addict right away?”

The frown on Silver’s face indicated momentary confusion but it only took a moment for the blue oceans of his eyes to reveal comprehension.
A few days ago James had hit a man with his car – the stranger had run onto the street out of the dark and Flint hadn’t seen him coming. Luckily enough the damage was humble but the man had blacked out and they had been forced to move him off the road before calling the ambulance. John had grabbed the unconscious stranger by the arm and immediately pulled back, almost dropping the body. He had urged James to call the ambulance, claiming the man was an addict and needed immediate help. It had never stopped bugging Flint that his lover had recognized a wound caused by drug addiction through the thick sleeve of a jumper upon some stranger’s arm.

“The first place I moved to after the orphanage kicked me out housed a hell of a lot of junkies. I didn’t have a job and I never had any more money than to feed myself - and that was only because I sold my guitar. I saw a lot of people with those holes over them, it just never really got any easier to look at.”

There were many things they knew about each other, there have been many moments like this one to share such stories. There have also been other moments when stories have been shared; broken glass and tears and yells and in between all that yet another piece of information, yet another uncovered secret of a dark past thrown at each other with the force of a bullet.
Their arguments were as rough and honest as everything else they shared.
And yet there always seemed to be more to discover.

“Did you ever try that stuff yourself?”

James hesitated then for a moment, uncertain whether he could ask, whether he was allowed talk about this.
He had often witnessed that John seemed much more capable of talking about and facing his demons than the former lieutenant was and James had never ceased admiring John for it; the courage and seemingly never ending strength ever present even when his own had long gone.
He knew there was no need to explain what he meant. He knew John was perfectly aware of the fact that he wasn’t speaking of marijuana here or those little white pills teens liked to take at parties. He knew there was no need to name the poison he was speaking about now, no need to specify why a syringe or white powder was different from a little bit of weed.

Understanding had settled between them early on and it had grown with time, a silent beast creeping and binding them together.
James hadn’t believed such silent communication possible before John Silver happened. He hadn’t believed such relationship possible. He hadn’t believed he’d be able to come to love someone’s demons as much as he despised his own but there was so much more to John than his demons.
The man’s darkness and colors were like a sudden storm at sea which swallowed a ship and spit it out somewhere else entirely where the sun seemed brighter and one felt braver. But to get to this place one had to conquer the storm; just that a storm couldn’t be conquered.
Whether a storm destroyed a sailor or not depended on how willing this sailor was to work together with the storm; how willing he was to continue on instead of escaping upon the sight of dark clouds.

That time when Flint had first faced Silver’s demons he had decided against running. Instead he had stepped deeper into the dark, willing to learn from it.

Now, beneath all those way too warm blankets, James wrapped an arm around his lover, pulling him in and Silver closed the gap and willingly sank, resting his head against James’ shoulder (something that had become an incredibly natural movement by now), letting out a sigh in appreciation and tiredness mixed when James’ hand began playing with his hair.
Flint smelt of London air and whiskey, of the worn leather of his coat and of aftershave nearly a day old, and John couldn’t help but realize it was as addictive now as it had been all that time ago when he had first dared get close enough to notice it.

It took Silver only a few moments to nod in response, finding himself taken back by the careful and almost timid nature of the question Flint’s given him still, even after knowing each other so well for so long and the emotion caught in his throat, causing him to close his eyes in some poor attempt to fight away the idea that he would cry because of James, that fuck. He was quite sure that the man would kill him with his kindness one day but he wasn’t going to bloody crumble now.

 “A handful of times, maybe a couple more.”

 Eventually came the reply, mumbled against freckled skin.

“And it’s okay if you want to ask me questions. I can give you the stories I can remember too, if you’d like?”

Silver added the words only after slipping his hand underneath the hoard of blankets to place it against James’ chest, causing familiar warmth to spread across Flint’s skin and he wondered whether John could feel it.
The nod, merely a faint shift James felt against his shoulder and yet enough to make his heart feel heavier. He had known, or at least he could have guessed. With the bits and pieces of Silver’s story he’s been allowed to hear and the hard times the man had suffered through, James should have guessed that this would have played a part in such a life. But somehow he had never fully thought about it.
And he didn’t blame Silver, nor did he judge. But that single nod still felt like a brick weighing him down, like water slowly filling his lungs and making it harder to breathe with every second passing.

Unconsciously he gently tightened his grip around the slightly smaller man, as if he would be able to shield John from the past if he only held him close enough.

 “I would like to hear the stories, if you’re willing to share.”

The piles of blankets and John’s body in his embrace were way too warm to be properly comfortable usually but at the moment he was grateful for it because the cold he felt seemed to be sitting in the bones, hard to chase away.
He traced the fingers of his free hand along his lover’s bare shoulder and down the arm, finding the black ink which formed a little sun on his skin - a tattoo John had gotten a while ago and a surprise which had hit James utterly unexpected in all the right ways - and his touch lingered there for a moment before continuing on, running up and down the arm and shoulder lazily, taking in the warmth and the familiarity of the other’s weight against him.
Another moment of silence followed then and at some point James could feel Silver swallow, seeming to collect his breath to speak.

It was going to be a long night but by sunrise they would wake knowing there was one demon less standing between them.

Patience- Peter Parker x Reader

Originally posted by elizbtholsen

A/n: okay so this turned out a bit longer than intended–and by a bit, I mean a lot. Let me know if you guys want a part two or something, I’d definitely be up for it.
Prompt: 142: I waited and waited, but you never came back.
Pairing: Peter Parker x reader
Word Count: 1,330 words
Part Two 

Peter was never one to be known for being punctual. You knew that going into the relationship, but an hour and a half was beyond late, especially for a movie date. 

You’d decided not to enter the theater, you were hoping that if Peter was five minutes late then the two of you could just switch plans and do something else. Peter never showed up. 

You let out a heavy sigh and tried not to focus too much on the fact that this marked three consecutive dates where he’d stood you up. 

“Hey, I’m so, so, so sorry.” Peter apologized as he ran up to you. 

“Peter.” You said irritably, switching plans had been an option if he were five, ten, even fifteen minutes late, not an hour plus. 

“Please it’s not all my fault, Aunt May needed me to run to the grocery store for her and then traffic was really bad, I’m so sorry (y/n).” Pete said intertwining your fingers. 

“Alright, it’s too late for a movie if we wanna make it back without ruining my curfew, so pick something else.” You told him. 

“Thank you, thank you so much. How about ice cream?” Peter offered as he placed a kiss on the back of your hand before placing another one on your lips.

“Lead the way.“ You said smiling at him. Five minutes later the two of you were sitting in a small ice cream shop talking about Tony Stark.

"So whatever happened with that scholarship thing, a few months ago May was going on and on about it and how Tony Stark personally came and told you about it and now nothing. What’s up with that?” You asked. 

“Nothing, I got the scholarship, nothing happens until I graduate.” Peter said shrugging. 

“Well, what was it for? It must’ve been pretty big if Tony Stark himself came to talk to you.” You said trying to pry more information out of him. 

“Science, what else? I guess he was just really–” Peter got a strange look on his face and then abruptly stood up. “I’ll be right back, I think I’m gonna be sick.” Peter said before running to the back. 

The last thing you saw was his back as he disappeared behind the service door. 

You sighed, this night was going great sure the ice cream thing wasn’t his fault but still, it was like lately you two just couldn’t catch a break. You waited about fifteen minutes before going getting up to go check on him. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” The manager asked coming out from the door you were about to enter. 

“Um, I was gonna go check on my boyfriend he ran back there to use your restroom.” You said. 

“No,” he said shaking his head. “I’m the only one back here.” He informed you. 

“Well maybe you were busy and didn’t see him, but he ran back here.” You persisted. 

“Listen, kid, I know what I’m saying there’s no one here, I don’t know what else to tell you.” He said refusing to let you go to the back. 

“Fine.” You huffed and sat back down at your table. You waited there until closing, the manager gave you a look of pity assuming you’d been run out on, and you couldn’t say he was completely wrong. 

It was a short subway ride to your apartment building, it was the same building Peter lived in and as you entered the elevator you debated whether or not you’d stop by his floor to check on him. 

You voted against him, you knew you wouldn’t be able to look at him right now without crying. 

You’d been friends with Peter ever since he moved into the building. It took awhile for your friendship to blossom but after that the two of you were inseparable. 

You lived in on the floor above him, your room was actually right over his when the two of you were younger you used to sneak out onto the fire escape and just talk all night. You could tell him anything without feeling ashamed or worrying that you were being a burden on him, but lately he’d been pulling away and it hurt. 

You slipped your key into the lock and put on a smile before you opened the door. 

“Hey honey, did you like the movie?” Your mom asked as she noticed you enter. 

“Actually, Peter and I decided to go for some ice cream.” You half-lied, you knew if you were honest you’d have to talk about everything that had been going on between the two of you and you just weren’t capable of handling that right now.

“Aww well, that’s nice. Mrs. Valdez’s daughter called–you know the one who lives uptown–anyways she said she needs a babysitter for Friday and she asked if you were up to it.” She told you. 

“Yeah, sure call her back and tell her I can do it.” You said. “I’m really sleepy I think the sugar’s leaving my system, night mom.”

“Night sweetie.” She called back before you closed the door. 

You changed in your pj’s trying not to cry until after you were in bed. You switched on the tv, hoping to get your mind off of Peter. 

“Well it seem’s like Spider-man had another busy day, a man going by Doctor Octopus has emerged to challenge the hero–”

“Spider-man’s here, Spider-man’s here!” Your little brother cried out bursting into your room and running to your window and pressing his face up to the glass. 

“Woah kid, slow down, what do you mean Spider-Man’s here?” You asked smiling at his excitement. 

“I saw him swing past my window, he was going this way. Did you see him?” He asked eagerly. 

“Nope, sorry hun.” You said as you opened the window knowing that was exactly what he wanted. 

Your brother ran out onto the fire escape and looked around trying to spot his favorite superhero.

“He’s gone.” He mumbled sadly as he made his way back into your room. 

“Hey, buddy.” Peter said coming into your room through the open window.

“Peter! Did you see Spider-Man?” Your brother asked him. 

“No, sorry dude.” He said shaking his head. 

“It’s okay, I’m gonna go to bed now. Night (y/n), night Peter.” He said shuffling out of your room. 

“Hey, I’m so sorry about earlier-”

“You seem to be saying that a lot Peter.” You said cutting him off. 

“I know, I’m sorry I just–”

“There you go again, Peter I don’t want your apologies, I want answers. What’s been going on with you? You’ve been pushing me away, skipping dates, and the dates you are there for you always show up way beyond late. Oh and let’s not forget about tonight, not only were you more than an hour late to our movie you ditched me ten minutes into ice cream. I waited and waited, but you never came back. Do I bore you that much?” You asked trying to fight back angry tears. 

“(y/n) you don’t bore me, I’m just trying to figure some things out.” Peter said grabbing your hand, you recoiled from his touch. 

“Then figure them out on your own time and stop wasting mine.” You said harshly. 

“What, what are you saying?” Peter asked. 

“I’m saying I wanna break up Peter.” You told him. 

“But you’re my best friend.” He told you reaching out for you. 

“Maybe we should end that too.” You said biting on the inside of your cheek to keep your tears at bay. 

“(y/n)-”

“Please leave Peter.” You said. 

“(y/n)-”

“I said leave.” You all but shouted. He turned and climbed down the fire escape, you quickly closed the window and locked it not to keep him from coming back in but to keep you from opening the window and going back to him. It was more symbolic than anything but it worked, you didn’t go out to him. 

Requested by @lukeybabe26

The Depiction of Dean Winchester’s Intelligence - Part 1

Part 2

Dean has often been called the brawn to Sam’s brains - even by himself. There is no doubt that he thinks he’s a stupid grunt.

However, he’s far more intelligent than he and those who choose to overlook the signs believe. Contrary to popular belief, I think his portrayal in earlier seasons does not make him look dumb next to Sam. His intelligence might not be the same as his brother’s - that is, he’s more practical and less of a bookworm - but Dean is far from the stupid macho man he’s seen as too often.

This list contains by no means every proof of Dean’s intelligence that has ever been shown in the series, but I still hope to point out a pattern.

Keep reading

little-rescued-primate  asked:

“I got you” {For Hayden Zoe, only if you want to! ^^}

Hayden had been out on a squad mission outside the wall when things went bad. He’d been expecting titan attacks, but not an onslaught like this. Managing to get into the trees, Hayden narrowly escaped being grabbed by one of them. His horse, unfortunately, hadn’t been so lucky. It looked like Hayden would be getting back to the wall on foot.

As Hayden moved from tree to tree, it began to rain heavily. This made keeping his movements steady very difficult. Hayden landed on a tree branch, the wet leaves causing him to lose his footing. He slipped and fell, only to land on a strange horse he’d never seen before.

“Oh!” he exclaimed. “Hmmm. You’re not one of ours, but maybe you can help me out. Just follow my lead, okay?”

Daughter of Mine

A few things first:

1) I’m not used to writing about abuse from a family member like this. I do not support any type of abuse and I’m not trying to make it seem okay by including it in this fic. (If you or someone you know is being abused, please please please seek out help.)

2) I decided to merge these two requests into one because they were quite similar. Also, this fic turned out a lot longer than I originally intended.

3) **TRIGGER WARNING**: physical abuse from a male family member, descriptions of violence and wounds, swearing, homophobic remarks

4) Now on my AO3!


It had been four months since I found out monsters were real.

A few weeks before then, my father and I moved into our new house. It didn’t take long until things started to get strange. Objects had moved from their original places, strange noises echoed through the house, and I had woken up many nights with strange bruises on my body. My dad was convinced someone was breaking into our house and moving stuff around to screw with us, so he called the cops. My dad drank a lot, so the cops assumed he was imagining it all while in a drunken stupor.  The next day, two federal agents showed up and asked questions about the strange incidences. I assumed the authorities were done with us, but these men were interested. They asked lots of strange questions; had lights been going out, did we smell sulfur, any cold spots, etc. When I had answered yes to all these questions, they became concerned. A few nights later, the thing that had been causing all the strange occurrences in our home attacked me.

Long story short, turns out it was a vengeful spirit, and those two federal agents weren’t agents at all; they were hunters named Sam and Dean Winchester. They hunted monsters and had been for a long time. Once they took care of the spirit, they gave me their cell numbers just in case I ever needed their help with the supernatural in the future. As nice as they were, I was hoping to never run into something that would require me to need their help again.


I left home early to go to school. It wasn’t my favourite thing, but I liked being able to leave the house for a few hours each day. Home wasn’t my favourite place to be; my dad was regularly drunk and he would sometimes get violent, so school was where I preferred to be most of the time.

I stayed late after school to work on a project. Once I noticed the sun beginning to set through the classroom window, I decided it was best to leave. As I quickly stopped by the coffee shop down the street from my house to grab a drink, I ran into Sam and Dean. They were working another case in town. We talked for a few moments before I left to go home.

I unlocked my front door and slowly walked in. All the lights were out. I fumbled in the dark for the light switch and flicked it on. I took off my shoes and noticed a light coming from my bedroom down the hallway. I dropped my backpack, set down my drink, and slowly made my way to my room. As I pushed the door open, I saw my dad sitting with my diary across his lap and a nearly empty bottle of booze in his hand (the bottle was almost full when I saw it on the counter this morning).

My heart jumped into my throat. I wrote everything in that diary. It was locked and I thought I had hidden it in a place no one would find. My dad took a swig from his bottle and looked at me, anger seething through his eyes.

“Somethin’ you wanna tell me, girl?” he slurred. I clenched my jaw, but stayed silent as my hands began to tremble. My dad lifted up the diary and began to read my writing;

“I think I’ve always been bi. Ever since I was young, I knew I wasn’t just attracted to boys. But I can’t let anyone find out. Especially my dad…he’d kill me.”

He dropped the book onto the floor.

“So…you’re gay?” he spat.

“No, dad, that’s not…” I tried to respond.

My dad laughed loudly and balled up his fists. I knew what was coming. I quickly grabbed my phone from my pocket and texted Dean.

“NEED HELP NOW”

I didn’t want to bother the brothers, but I was desperate. As I pressed send, my dad snatched the phone out of my hand and threw it across the room. It smashed into my lamp.

“No daughter of mine is-” he hiccupped. God, he was drunk. I was too scared to move. He walked toward me. I could feel his breath on my face as he pushed me.

“I’m gonna turn you straight, even if I have to beat it out of you,” he said through his teeth. Before I knew it, he slapped me hard across the face. My cheek stung. I tried to push him off, but he threw me to the ground and started hitting me in the face. I screamed, using all my effort to get him off of me. No matter how hard I tried, he was too strong. I gave up. I lied there and let him hit me over and over. Every blow felt harder than the last. It seemed to go on forever until he gave me a final kick to the stomach. With his knuckles bloody, he grabbed his bottle and took another swig before exiting the room. I spat out blood and began to bawl like a baby. Every inhale stung my ribs. I couldn’t move; it was too painful. I lied on my bedroom floor, trying to gain the strength to get up.

My anxious thoughts were interrupted by panicked banging on the front door.

Please be the Winchester’s,” I thought to myself. I heard my dad stumble toward the door and open it.

“The fuck are you doin’ here?” I heard him slur. Suddenly, fighting broke loose and my dad yelled. I tried to lift myself up, but failed. I heard my name being yelled through the commotion down the hall. I tried to respond, but all that came out was a mangled noise as I spat out more blood. I heard footsteps rush down the hallway. I looked up and saw Sam standing in my doorway. His expression changed as he saw what was left of me lying on the ground.

“Oh no,” he gasped, panicked. He moved toward me and cradled my head in his hands, examining what my father had done to my face.

“Are you okay? Can you sit up?” he asked. I tried to move, but I winced as pain took over my body once again. Sam grabbed a hold of me and sat me up, leaning me against my bed. My head swam and my face throbbed. Sam used the sleeve of his jacket to wipe some of the blood off of my face.

“It hurts to breathe,” I sputtered through broken breaths. Sam looked at me with compassionate eyes and continued to wipe away the blood. He ran his sleeve across my cheek and I jumped with pain. It felt like a baseball bat had been smashed into my face.

The commotion had finally stopped down the hallway. Dean entered my room with sweat beading on his forehead.

“I think her ribs are broken,” Sam quickly told Dean, “we gotta get her to a hospital.”

The room started to fade to black. I blinked hard, trying to get my vision back, but I must have lost consciousness. I woke up briefly while laid in the back of the brothers’ car to the sound of Sam calling 911, telling them what had happened with my father. Trees flew by the windows and Dean sped down the road.

The next time I woke up, I was lying in a hospital bed with the blanket pulled up over my chest. I couldn’t see very well. I reached my hand up to my face and felt a bandage covering one of my eyes.

“Hey,” a deep voice said from beside me. Relief filled my core as I saw the Winchester’s sitting next to me. I smiled even though my face ached.

“You’ve got some damage,” Dean said, “nurse says you got a concussion, a broken cheekbone, some fractured ribs, plus a fair share of contusions.”

I shifted in my bed. This isn’t the first time my dad had been physical with me, but it had never been this bad before.

“What happened back there?” Sam asked, leaning forward in his chair. I swallowed nervously.

“M-my, uh,” I stuttered, “my dad found out I’m, uh…not straight.”

The brothers looked at each other.

“He did all this to you because of that?” Dean asked. I nodded and his fists tightened. We sat in silence for a moment.

“Never told anyone that before,” I said, quietly, “I was afraid of how people would react. And, well…”

I motioned toward my beat up face.

Sam placed his hand on mine; “He shouldn’t have reacted like that. You didn’t deserve any of this.”

I stared at Sam as tears began to well up in my eyes. He squeezed my hand.

“Look, if it helps,” Dean began, “we accept you.”

I looked toward him, “y-you do?”

I was so scared of telling people that I never really considered that people might actually be okay with it.

“Yeah, of course,” Dean said with a smile, “anyone who judges someone because of who they like is a douche.”

“Yeah, we got your back,” Sam added.

“But my dad…” I said, remembering that he would not be as kind as they were.

“He was arrested a few hours ago,” Dean answered, “he’s not going anywhere for a long time.”

I was relieved, but worry quickly filled me. Where was I going to go? I couldn’t afford to live on my own. The brothers must have noticed my thoughts through my expression.

“Hey, if you need somewhere to go, we’ll take care of you for a while,” Dean offered.

“Are you sure?” I asked. Even though I barely knew these brothers, I felt safe with them.

“Of course,” Sam said, “we’ll keep you safe.”

I smiled as a few tears escaped from my eyes. Maybe things were going to be okay after all.

[SWR]: MoCB - A Study with Kanera

So normally an episode analysis would focus on the events of the episode. In my opinion, I think the events were pretty straight forward in terms of plot devices and laying the scene etc. etc. However, what I find interesting is that the show’s team used said scenes to display and draw out the emotional dilemmas of the individual crew members. That is something that I’ve seen in shows and movies before, but I hardly ever see it played out to a point where the actual dilemma itself does not have to be explicitly stated before the audience gets it. 

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purpleneonz  asked:

Hello! your first imagine is soooo good!!! I have a request!(: how about draco having a crush on the american transfer student and likes to send her notes from across the classroom and such? I imagine draco bumping into her on the stairs or seeing her from across the dining hall one day and thinks "shes mine" you know? I can also see him being very flirty with her but also being possessive and protective of her. Oh, and she can either be a hufflepuff or a ravenclaw (:

Warnings: fluff, kissing, jealousy
Rating: PG or PG-13
Word count: 932
Y/N - your name
Y/H/C - your hair color
This turned out a lot longer than I intended it to but oh well, I hope you like it!

Pleaseeeeee send more requests!😝


You ran to class as quickly as You could, it was your first day at Hogwarts and you were already lost and late, typical. You stood outside the door of what seemed to be the correct classroom and ran your hand through your y/h/c hair. You walked in slowly taking a seat in the back between a girl with light brown wavy hair and a boy with bleach blonde hair. The teacher who seemed to have slick black hair and a stiff posture was facing the chalk board so you figured you’d gotten away with it. “Miss. Y/L/N” you heard a faint but deep voice say “Yes?” You said sighing knowing you’d been caught. Your American accent must have caugt the attention of several people cause heads started turning to you the second you spoke. “You’re late” the teacher said turning around to face you “Why don’t you tell us a little bit about yourself since you’re starting in the middle of January.” Although his words were nice you could sense something was wrong with this guy. “Well um… I’m from a small town in the United States, I just moved here cause my parents both got jobs at the ministry of magic and I’ve been placed in Ravenclaw.” You said confidently, “humph” the professor said turning back to write something on the board. “Excuse me, do you know his name? It’s not printed on my schedule.” You whispered to the boy next to you, he turned to face you his pale face was complimented nicely by his stunning blue eyes. “Professor Snape” the boy said smirking “and I’m Malfoy, Draco Malfoy” he said sticking his hand out to shake, you gingerly took it smiling and thanking Draco for the information before starting to take your notes. The class ended and you got up to leave as you felt a hand grab your wrist “Do you need help finding your next class …? ” Draco said as he moved his hand down to be holding yours, “Y/N” you said filling in the blank in his sentence, “and yes that would be helpful I’d prefer not to get embarrassed again” you said with a light giggle. The boy smirked and squeezed your hand reassuring you “damn this boy moves fast but I’m not complaining he is good looking” you thought to yourself. You found out you had several classes with Draco and he sat next to you In all of them showing you the ropes of how to get around and who everyone was. It was nice having someone care for you being new and all.

~several weeks later~

You were sitting in Transfiguration when a little paper bird landed on your desk interrupting your note taking. You looked around to make sure no one else saw then opened the note, “hey beautiful -DM” it said sprawled out in green ink, you giggled knowing it was from Draco but he wasn’t even in this class how did he get it here? Within five minutes another one had landed on your desk this one read “Meet me in the Astronomy Tower next period -DM” in the same green ink. Next period was free for you so you figured you had nothing to lose by going. As you walked up to the tower you heard Draco talking to someone you recognized as Goyle “she’s mine and I’m not letting anyone take that away from me!” He said sounding angry. You’d never seen him angry before and you had to admit it was kind of frightening but so far he had been sweet so you just ignored it and thought about who he was talking about. You secretly hoped it was you since you’d been getting little notes from him for several days that seemed flirty plus you liked him. You climbed your way up the steps and to the tower, “Hey!” You said as you walked through the door “Y/N!” Draco said pulling you in for a hug that seemed a linger a few seconds to long. “I called you up here cause…well” he said as if trying to come up with the right words “spit it out” you said slightly giggling at his shyness “I like you, and I don’t mean like a friend I mean like a more than friend and I get it if you don’t feel the same cause everyone around here thinks I’m a total dick but I want to give us a shot.” He said rather quickly as if trying not to back out of it. He stood there is eyes refusing to meet your own. “Draco” you said tilting his head so he was looking directly at you, “I would love to give us a try” as you said this the grin on his face grew evident and you pulled him in for another hug, as you were pulling away he crashed his lips into yours almost desperately, you were shocked but soon melted into it feeling the world drift away, he pulled away slowly resting your foreheads together “wow” you both whispered in unison. “Let’s get some food so I can show you off” he said dragging your hand down the stairs, you tilted your head back laughing at his sudden excitement. One of the best things was seeing him glare at any boy who dare look at you you’d been together for not even five minutes and he was already jealous. As you entered the great hall he pulled you in for another kiss declaring to everyone that you were his.

The Boy Next Door (part 1)


Rating: T

Pairing: Bellarke

Word Count: 2,021

Summary: They’d moved in next door when Clarke was only eight, and now at eighteen she considered Ms. Blake like a second mother, and Octavia like the sister she never had. There was also Bellamy, the pest she’d never wanted. Or at least he had been until everything started to change.

Notes: This turned out to be way longer than I intended for it to be. Shout out to oftheskyepeople for being my cheerleader and encouraging me to write this.

-

October 20, 3:00PM

Clarke walks up the steps to the Blake home and knocks rhythmically three times– a sign so that they knew it was her– before entering. She sees that it was pointless, because the house seems to be empty– Mrs. Blake must be at the shop still, and Bellamy probably picked up a double shift to help his mom out. She toes her shoes off with a sigh by the door and drops her bag down beside them, padding into the kitchen to get a glass of water as she waits for Octavia to get home.

Why the girl insists on taking the bus home when Clarke can drive her, she’ll never understand. It isn’t like Clarke hasn’t been coming here nearly every day after school since the fourth grade, so she doesn’t understand why Octavia refused to ride home with her. Or at least she pretends not to know that it’s because Jasper rides the same bus home every day, and Octavia had been crushing on him since Freshman year. Everyday she came home with a little grin as she told Clarke about what songs they’d listened to and what they’d talked about, and every day Clarke would ask why she hadn’t just asked him out already only to be met with the same frown each time.

“Part of the fun is in being chased,” Octavia would say, tapping her index finger against Clarke’s nose as though she was the eighteen year old, and Clarke was sixteen. “You’ve got to make them work for it, otherwise where’s the fun?”

Maybe Clarke should have taken those lessons more seriously, because then maybe she wouldn’t be stuck in her current predicament. She sighs again, leaning her elbows against the marble countertop and rubbing her temples as she thinks about the cause of all her problems; Finn Collins.

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Finished version here~!

Aaah, I had this idea on my mind for a while! I’ve been too busy playing videogames instead of using my vacations to draw, shame on me. Classes will begin soon but better now than never. :’D

So, I’ve been thinking. Currently there are only 5 wards on which same-sex marriage is legal in Japan, and the first one was Shibuya. Where basically Yuu spent quite some time after getting out of Sanguinem and doing stuff until joining Shinoa Squad. So what if he and Mika decided to go back to Shibuya first thing after the war ended and got married there. That’d be the marriage certificate on their hands.

Here comes what I had in mind while sketching it:

Older Yuu! Because… they couldn’t marry being underage asfdkfjs And I suppose the war could last a bit longer than intended. He ended up growing taller since Mika has no metabolism anymore, they’re still the same age chronologically speaking though. 

They’re still searching for means to turn Mika back to being human as well.

Yuu is still the silliest person at times, but he matured a bit more. Mika is greatly friendlier to the others in Shinoa Squad but it’s still a work in progress. He’s going to do it eventually, though.

They were all there to celebrate their official union too, because familyyyy. Shinoa was high on jokes about virginity but it backfired when Yuu asked when the hell she’d just go and propose to Mitsuba already. Then the jokes’ target became Mitsuba because “she’s the one who has to but she has no courage”.

Lots of screaming succeeded. They had a good time.

I know there are a lot of holes in this big headcanon BUT I thought it was cute and that’s my reasoning. I’m a hopeless romantic. I’m also a slow artist but hopefully I’ll finish it soon. And I assure you that I’ll do a proper certificate, haha.

I saw someone bashing on RenRuki, because “shippers are just picking out any panels they show up in together and calling that canon. pathetic. if that were true than characterA & characterB are canon too.”

And that’s just missing the entire point??

RR shippers are not saying “omg they’re in the same panel! canon!!1!”

RR shippers are saying “look they’re in the same panel again for the millionth time”

In this arc there have been entire chapters where they haven’t shown up w/o the other one in the same panel. And if they don’t share a panel then the next panel shows them standing no more than 2 feet away from each other.

RenRuki shippers don’t bank on big moments every so often (and i mean both of the other pairings). We get a constant stream of material, but because of the mentality behind the other pairings (“there has to be some big moment for it to be valid”), it’s not appreciated and so it goes unnoticed.

To me, it’s really the little things that count. The fact that Renji and Rukia have hardly left each other’s sides to the point that if one of them does leave for a bit it almost feels awkward is huge, but ignored because it is just so natural

There’s no “OH LOOK a reunion after 3 years (but only like 3 hours in canon)!!” or “OH LOOK they’re finally fighting together (it took too long imo)!”

It’s just “Well there’s Renji and Rukia fighting together and standing next to each other again for the… what time is it now? Too many to count.”

Like why do you think that in basically any fanfic (where is makes sense for Renji and Rukia to be around somewhere that is) that Renji and Rukia are just assumed a couple? I’ve read dozens of fanfics where ichigo is involved with someone and it’s just mentioned in passing that Renji and Rukia are a couple. I’ve even read dozens of character based (read: non pairing based) fanfics where RenRuki is on the side too. 

People shipping for canon are so focused on the “big” moments that they miss the whole picture. But nonshippers and people that ship crack are not overly worried about their own canon shipping material do see RenRuki.

To me that’s much more powerful than having to go about explaining how two characters got together. Ex: there was some sudden “epiphany” for both of them after they met back up again after a few weeks/months/years and they realized they loved each other or they began to interact more and he realized he loved her back.

Like RenRuki has the best of both worlds.

Renji is already in love with Rukia (and it can be argued that at least in the past Rukia was in love with Renji). Add that onto the fact they’re inseparable (they don’t need big reunions), they fight along side each other constantly (they don’t need a huge development for that), they basically act just like a couple except for it being confirmed, and that means that….

Rukia could kiss Renji right now and I wouldn’t be terribly surprised or think “wtf that came out of nowhere”, I’d be ecstatic, sure, but I’d also be like “jeez finally, it only took you guys 50 years for you two to get over being shy”

In fact, my ideal RenRuki kiss is actually just Rukia jumping up and kissing Renji in the heat of the moment and Renji turns as red as his hair and is thinking “?????” and Rukia only notices what she did like 30 seconds later and then she too turns the color of his hair.

So instead of being willfully ignorant, pay attention to why people are excited over seemingly ‘mundane’ panels. And instead of shipping it just because it’s convenient for your pairing, why don’t you actually pay attention to it.

k thx bye

I have this hc about Feuilly that he always wears warm, autumn-y turtle neck sweaters and because he’s generally a very laid back person who likes cozy clothes and atmospheres, people don’t question it. When it’s summer and they want to go bathing/swimming together, Feuilly always says that he’s too busy with his jobs and everyone believes him because Feuilly doesn’t really lie, right? And no one thinks that it’s his sweaters’ fault, anyways. Sometimes they joke about them, say that the turtle necks will kill Feuilly with heat one day, and he just smiles and never really replies.

But one day some Ami catches him before taking a shower/changing his clothes and sees that he has old cuts and scars all over his torso, burns of cigarette marks like stains trailing up his collar bone and neck, memories from when he was in abusive care homes or with adoptive parents who he luckily could escape from eventually.

And they realise that Feuilly is not just wearing those turtle neck sweaters because he has a good fashion sense but also to flee the nightmares that still haunt him, nightmares of a childhood that never really was a childhood, still, even after almost six years. That the heat is sometimes maybe insufferable but it’s nothing compared to the dark fear of constantly being confronted with the pain of having to explain all those scars.

They tell no one, maybe not even Feuilly himself, but whenever someone is now making jokes about the turtle necks, they either quickly change the subject or straightforwardly tell them to leave Feuilly alone. And Feuilly, even though he doesn’t know why or doesn’t quite understand where this is suddenly coming from, is probably happier than he has ever been.

Always consider the source

So a friend of mine on Skype linked this to me: http://frist–xvi.tumblr.com/post/147632304865/tenaflyviper-ladies-its-time-for-us-to-talk

 And it lead to an interesting conversation which I’ll try and sum up on here. Specifically, about why every time you see a massive wall of text like this one that your friends are reblogging, it’s important to look at the profile it originated from. It’ll give you some wider context, if nothing else.

Now I’ve noticed that, while the poster has made SOME good points; for example, a huge corporation like Sony most certainly does NOT have womens’ interests at heart (case and point; Ke$ha) there are some weird things I’m noticing about this person’s profile. Namely, there’s a lot of love here for the old-timey “Cult Classics.” Dead Alive, Evil Dead, House of 1000 Corpses, The Hills Have Eyes, The Last House on the Left, Island of Death etc. Not that there’s anything inherently WRONG with that. 

They have an embedded video from a female youtuber, sure. As well as an embedded youtube video from a guy who is an MRA. And while I can’t comment on the whole corporate litigation stuff, being an outsider to all that, I am noticing that this person’s saying we should “stop complaining about being underrepresented in cinema. Because we really, really, REALLY aren’t.” With links to a couple handful of examples. The number of which are outnumbered severely by the male-led movie titles making up the background on this user’s tumblr theme. As a gamer-lady, I’m well-versed in responding to this argument. The number of female-led titles which do a decent job of representing women are a minority compared to “the vast majority of films ever made.” Granted there probably ARE more female-led movies out there than there are female-led games. Still there’s huge disparities in film which are only beginning to be addressed.

Anyways, this profile has just reblogged about every single anti-Ghostbusters post on the whole of tumblr, as well as a whole bunch of cult-classic horror-movies of yesteryear fandom stuff, so I’m trying to find other long encyclopedia posts by this tumblr user. And I found, well…

I found this long-ass post on why tumblr-users are dumber than 4chan users: http://tenaflyviper.tumblr.com/post/77624962470/whos-users-are-more-stupid-4chan-or-tumblrnot

The post concludes that despite being immature, 4chan is actually a more welcoming and inclusive community while tumblr is the more hateful, knee-jerk reactionary community. Umm…

Like, serious question. If you think tumblr is such a poisonous, harmful community, then why are you here?

I mean just about every direct 4chan-related experience I’ve had has been a negative one, and I avoid that board and similar “chan-type” image-boards like the plague because I find them to be toxic and unwelcoming. And it’s not like theirs is a recent post either, it was made over two years ago. Yet they’re still here.

Now, there could possibly be women out there who believe 4chan is less sexist and horrid and toxic than tumblr. But I haven’t met any. Not saying tumblr is perfect, but there IS a kind of person who 4chan is more welcoming to. And it’s not a person who sees things from a female perspective.

The poster does say right from the start “ladies, it’s time for us talk, without accusing each other of actually being men or having internalized misogyny” but…that’s precisely what I’m gonna do here. This post doesn’t exist in a vacuum on your profile. It exists in context with everything else you put on it. And what I’m seeing adds up to a male reactionary who’s upset that women are people too.

Obviously there’s no way I can confirm that but at most, if this person is really the gender they claim, then they’re just another Phyllis Schlafly or Christina Hoff Sommers, which while not deliberately misleading as OP being a G.I.R.L. (”Guy in Real Life”), it is still “internalized misogyny.” I mean a woman who likes “Return of the Living Dead” but HATES the new Ghostbusters movie, and likes 4chan but HATES tumblr COULD exist in theory. I personally have never known any such woman but it’s not completely impossible. Regardless, said woman would not be particularly keen on the whole “womens’ rights” thing. So even if OP is being truthful about their gender, it would change very little.

Well I intended this to be a short little blurb and it turned into a wall of text that’s even longer than the post it’s calling out. Oh well. “Rewriting and editing? Who has time for that?”

 One last thing: don’t harass this person or anyone who reblogs their post with nasty-ass comments, because that’s mean and you should be a better person than that. Don’t be like those MRA-assholes who harassed Leslie Jones to the point where she had to close her Twitter Account.

Today, at Costco, this old white man approached me and said, “excuse me ma’am, are you Muslim?” I said yes and my anxiety was already skyrocketing (especially because he had this pokerface, I couldn’t read his expressions at all), and he says, 

“Now I don’t care how long you’ve been in this country, whether you’ve been here for one day or your entire life,“ and at this point, my heart is racing, I feel like this is about to be a confrontation, I’m trying to come up with a response for any number of possible things he could say after this and he continues, "I just wanna say you’re welcome here! I think diversity is what makes this country great and I wanna thank you for being part of it”

And I was too anxious to even respond properly, other than just to thank him. It is so heartbreaking, that this is the reality we live in. That being approached like this would (understandably and justifiably) send us into such deep and core-shaking anxiety that we can’t even respond properly when it turns out to be a well-intended comment. And the fact that he even needed to make that comment speaks to how fucked up of a reality we are in. How much longer. 

New Patch Is Out!

Update: 06/11/2015 – PC Version 1.8.61.1020 / Mac Version 1.8.61.1220

Hey Simmers,

It’s Thursday! There’s some exciting Stuff happening just around the corner, and we have a release to release to you… in this release. So, stretch out to a new world, welcome your Sims with a little fruitcake, and draw up a room where you can place a chair to sit in, in order to relax, if that is your inclination, or perhaps you’re more of an on the edge of your seat type of person, in which case you shouldn’t sit back, because that wouldn’t really make sense…

…well, anyway.

Um, what’s new!?

We have heard the cries from the mountain tops for space (“My Sims need space!” <- see right there). And so, welcome to Newcrest! Fifteen lots await your creative hand to build to your desire. OR if you are less inclined to build from scratch, jump into the Gallery and populate your world from your fellow Simmers’ creations. Some have already built some amazing lots, just search for #BuildNewcrest.

The return of the Welcome Wagon! Have you been finding it difficult to break the ice with your neighbors? Can’t seem to get anyone to come to the door and engage in a deep conversation about dinosaurs or your insecurities? Now when you move in to a new lot, your neighbors* will arrive with a welcoming smile and a pound of fruitcake.

*Please note: fruit cake, welcoming smile, and inviting neighbors require neighbors.

And to answer the unanswerable question of where does a lawn ornament go when their time is up, the Reagnomper gnome has been seen skulking about the Build catalog.

Tutorials have been given a facelift! Introductory dialogs now provide context as to the mode or lesson being taught, and allow you to skip a portion of the tutorial that you may already be familiar with.

A new tool, the Custom Room Tool, is now in Build Mode. This tool will allow you to draw your own room shapes.

  • You can find the tool in the Walls and Empty Rooms sort in Build Mode.
  • As you draw, each click will place a new wall segment, an indicator of the last clicked position, and a starting position. To complete the room, click back to the starting position.
  • The last clicked position provides information to you in regards to the undo behavior.

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