week of indignation

anonymous asked:

director sanvers (+ any cameo?) - furby

credit to @ontari for giving me the idea 

“oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” maggie says, her voice coming in over the comms “you said this thing was going to shapeshift into the most terrifying thing known to man and it becomes a fucking furby?” 

“you have my permission to use the grenade launcher,” comes lucy’s voice over the comm “blow that thing back where it came from.” 

“i’m pretty sure metropolis doesn’t want it,” comes alex’s reply “kara’s going to have nightmares about this for weeks.” 

“hey!” comes an indignant response. 

anonymous asked:

Why not Obi-Wan having stupid symptoms and waiting too long because he thinks it's stress, only not? And when he collapses and is diagnosed, his Padawan spends more time with him and not creepy!Palpy. Because I'm supposed to go see the doctor and I'm stupidly afraid and waiting because I fear what she will says

There was a flurry of sneezes that was followed by harsh coughing that drew Anakin’s attention to where Obi-Wan was slightly bent over the holo, face drawn in a tired grimace as he finally calmed down and rubbed his chest slowly.

Cody and Trapper was standing not far from him, observing their General closely with small frowns on their faces.

That was it.

Anakin waved Fives away and marched over to the other man, feeling the fatigue in the air around the copper haired man and resting a hand on the others shoulder. “Obi-Wan, this has been going on for a week, I think you should consider at least going to Helix or Kix.” The knight cautioned.

“Its just stress Anakin, once we arrive back on Coruscant and I can settle into my own quarters for a few days I will be right as rain.” The other man straightened up from his slumped position and arched his eyebrow at the younger man.

“A week Obi-Wan. Do you have a fever?” Anakin quickly placed his human hand on the others forehead.

“A low one, I checked.”

“Is it a cold? You’re coughing, your breath is short and don’t deny it, I’ve been paying attention, you have a low fever, you keep rubbing your chest and you’re snotty.”

Obi-Wan sighed. “Anakin, I’m sore chested because I’ve been coughing so much. Perhaps a cold yes, but if so I can handle that once in my quarters at home.” Obi-Wan insisted. He was good at ignoring the aching, the soreness, the occasional dizziness and all, it just got harder when Anakin was being his fussy self.

“Now excuse me I need to continue wo-” He was interrupted by a series of coughes that went right up into his head, leaving black spots in his eyes. He collapsed against Anakin’s chest, still coughing into his hand as something wet hit his fingers and leaked between them.

Only when he stopped coughing did he manage to pull his hand away to see blood splattering his hand. “…Oh…” He looked up in surprise into Anakin’s wide blue eyes before he collapsed forward into the blonds arms as shout rang out in the control room, eyes rolling into the back of his head.

And that was the last Obi-Wan knew for a while.

When he wakes, he’s laying in the medical ward of the temple, staring up at the ceiling with a hand holding each of his and when he manages to turn his heads to look, he finds Ahsoka and Anakin on each side of the bed, holding his hands though Ahsoka’s is more careful then Anakin’s as she has a hand with a IV drip connected to it.

He swallows heavily, his chest feeling like a Star Destroyer has landed on it as the door opens and a healer steps in.

She almost drops the armful of medication in her arms when she sees his eyes are open before she beams. “Healer Che! He’s awake!”

The shout wakes both of the young ones in the room and Anakin squeezes Obi-Wan’s hand quickly, eyes wide in relieved warmth. “Obi-Wan. Oh sweet Force you’re awake.”

Obi-Wan just stares at them in confusion before taking in the state of the other man, the bristle of stubble’s and unkempt hair. He’s been here for more then a day that much is clear as Che bustles in and over to him, shooing Ahsoka out of the way as she checks on his eyes and then rests a hand on his chest, prodding at him with the Force.

“Wha…how…long?” He finally manages to croak out and that action alone hurts his throat and chest, making him wince.

“A week Master Kenobi. You had Smer bronchitis.” Che offered him. “If you had come to a healer or a medic instead of ignoring your symptoms, this wouldn’t have happened, its easy to treat if you had. Instead you’re now stuck here and afterward you will be removed of duty rooster as you will be to weak to be useful. Knight Skywalker has already confirmed he will be able to look after you as you recover.”

She nodded in satisfaction when she stepped back, looking to Anakin. “He will still need the same medications we’ve given him. You’ll be up to giving him the hypospray of course?”

“Yes, of course. Healer Gra showed me how.” Anakin assured while squeezing Obi-Wan’s hand.

“Good, he’ll have trouble moving around on his own, I’ll have one of the padawans bring a hoverchair to transport him to his room once the first shot of medications have been set. He’ll be sleeping for the most part, his appetite will be lacking and he will most likely have difficulties swallowing. Broth, thin soups, perhaps smoothies, protein shakes and tea are on the menu. He will be feeling fragile for the week.”

Obi-Wan gave an indignant noise.

Che ignored him and instead gave him a hypospray full of mixed medicines.

“I’ll make sure he takes it easy. I won’t leave his side.” Anakin assured. He ignored the slight guilt at ignoring Palpatine’s messages but Obi-Wan needed him.

Perpendicular (Ishimaru x Reader x Mondo)

It was a gorgeous day.

Birds were singing, the sun was shining, and Ishimaru Kiyotaka had a problem.

“…wearing those ridiculous clothing that is almost certainly not regulation! I’ve never seen anything so-“

You stifled the urge to groan – he was doing it again.

You and Ishimaru were…well, at first you found him incredibly loud, pushy and annoying. Actually, you still thought he was loud, pushy and annoying, but underneath all that, he was actually a total sweetie and a complete dork. And now, your best friend.

The day you really became friends, some assholes had stolen your homework and you were trying to take it back. Normally you’d be perfectly capable of kicking someone’s ass for stealing your stuff, but unfortunately, four-on-one weren’t exactly favourable odds.

Then Ishimaru had come straight in the fuck out of nowhere, shouting at said thieves and doing quite a lot of dramatic pointing. Though he didn’t quite scare them off in the way he’d hoped (even with those intense red eyes of his), he still caused enough of a commotion that they were forced to beat a hasty retreat. Your homework was already shredded in the scuffle and pretty much unfit to be handed in, but Ishimaru vouched for you when your teacher asked you where it was. Of course she believed him - he was Ishimaru Kiyotaka, after all.

So, you and Ishimaru were tight. He had a hard time in connecting with other people thanks to his, um, intense personality, and you had your own issues to deal with, so more often than not you just sought out each other’s company, though you still hung out with Sakura and Aoi from time to time, though they talked a lot about work-out routines and stuff you didn’t quite understand. On that particular morning, you were chilling on the grass (well, you were, Ishimaru was sitting rather stiffly, whether because he was waiting for a teacher to come and yell at you for sitting on the grass or he didn’t want stains on his pristine white uniform was hard to say). Ishimaru was ranting, yet again, about Owada Mondo, some guy who had apparently made it his mission in life to annoy the hell out of him, according to your friend.

“I cannot fathom how such a-a delinquent can be permitted to attend this prestigious academy!”

You rolled your eyes (which you did a lot around Ishimaru) and looked over at him, who was gesturing so wildly with his chopsticks that you doubted he’d even gotten around to eating yet. And lunch was half over.

“You know,” you commented idly, as Ishimaru sucked in a big breath to continue venting, “You sound like you’ve got a mad crush or something.”

Ishimaru was so shocked he almost dropped his bento box.

“Of-of all the things to say!” he spluttered, shooting a horrified look at you. “Please refrain from suggesting such an uncouth thing!”

You snickered at his flustered reaction - he was just so earnest that it was too easy to tease him. Perhaps it was a sign of your friendship that Ishimaru was learning to roll with your playful mockery and you were pulling your punches with him in kind, since he was your best friend and all.

“Whatever,” you snorted, tapping a nail on his still-unopened bento box. “Just shut up about delinquents for five minutes and eat your lunch, okay? I’m not dragging you to class if you pass out here.”

Ishimaru jolted, clearly so caught up in Mondo-venting that he’d forgotten all about food. He straightened up and shot you this smile that lit up his whole face and - whoa. Nothing’s even happened between you two, obviously, but sometimes he gave you that smile and said something heartfelt you felt all…fizzy.

Yes, fizzy.

Shut up.

“Ah, thank you! It was careless of me not to partake in my needed meal to consume an appropriate amount of energy for the remainder of the school day! You’re such a great friend.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumbled, nudging him with your elbow and looking back at your own lunch as Ishimaru happily started eating, pretending to be exasperated.

Still, you couldn’t help but be pleased that he thought so.


Things took an unexpected turn about a week later. You went and found Ishimaru waiting for you outside (he always beat you to your waiting spot somehow), wearing this big, derpy smile on his face. It was a little unnerving, actually, like he’d been practicing.

Actually, yeah, you could totally see him doing that.

“Why do you look so happy today?” you asked, picking your way across the grass.

“Ah!” Ishimaru leapt to his feet like he’d been jabbed with a cattle prod and bowed, despite you telling him over and over again that he didn’t need to do that, “I hope you don’t mind, but I invited someone to join us for lunch today!”

“Oh?” you didn’t mind, particularly - sometimes you, Ishimaru, Sakura and Aoi had made the occasional quartet, or one of them would come over if the other was off sick one day or something, but this was unusual for Ishimaru. “Who?”

“Well, Mondo and I-” he started, only for you to very gracefully spit out your drink, narrowly missing him.


“It is impolite to spray beverages when someone is speaking, you know!” Ishimaru chided you.

“I couldn’t help it!” you squawked back at him, wiping your mouth on your sleeve. “Fuck, Ishimaru! Mondo? As in, that thug guy you’ve been bitching about incessantly for weeks on end?”

He looked indignant.

“I mostly certainly have not been-”

“Oh yes you have! And now you’re telling me that that Mondo is-”

“Mondo’s what now?” a deep voice rumbled behind you.

You turned around and saw…black. Then you looked up.

And up.

And up.

Sweet jesus.

Okay, so you do have to concede that Ishimaru had a point about his clothes being far too wild for school (and let’s not even get started on that hair), but damn if he doesn’t look good in them. Now you understand all the Mondo-this and Mondo-that.

You just sat there staring at Mondo, looking like a goldfish with your mouth hanging open.

“Ah, bro!” Ishimaru said – wait, bro? Really?- cutting right through the awkward pause, probably not even noticing it. “I was just informing my very good friend about you!”

He introduced you both and you awkwardly said hello, while Mondo grunted in your direction and sat down on the grass, avoiding eye contact with you studiously. You flicked your gaze to Ishimaru.

“Okay, so…you were explaining why you’re not mortal enemies suddenly?”

And after that, you couldn’t get him to shut up. He started babbling on about bonding and manliness and something about a sauna and you’re really losing track of what’s happening. Or because Ishimaru mentioned something about somebody being naked and wow, okay, you’re not sure you should let your brain wander there right now. Mondo eventually decided to stop being the strong, silent type and joined in with Ishimaru’s story, and they were laughing like they’d been best friends for years.

Like they’d forgotten you were even there.

For once, you were actually happy when lunchtime ended.


Suddenly, it all changed. Mondo was suddenly a fixture in your outdoor lunch periods. For a while it had mostly just been you and Ishimaru hanging out. Now suddenly it was like he’d upgraded best friends and you were just there because it’s where you’d gotten used to sitting.

You didn’t think that it was on purpose – Ishimaru would never do something like make you feel bad knowingly, but he did have a tendency to get really pumped up about everything he did, which included making friends, apparently. He seemed really excited to have a “bro”, but…still, where did that leave you? Mondo barely talked to you – he barely looked at you, actually, and you didn’t know why that upset you so much, but it did. Like what, he strutted in with his goofy hair and cool biker clothes and stole your best friend and didn’t even acknowledge you? You knew he was a delinquent, but that was just…rude.

“Not eating with Ishimaru today, either?” Aoi asked you with a gentle smile, seeing you poking glumly at your lunch without bothering to eat it.

“I doubt he’s even noticed – he’s too busy with his new bestie.”

“New bestie?” she blinked.

Sighing, you told Aoi and Sakura all about the weird bromance going on between Ishimaru and Mondo, after it seemed like they were mortal enemies.

“…now they just sit there and talk about their dumb boy contests and I have no idea what they’re talking about half the time. And like…I don’t know Mondo well, but he just looks like he’s in literal pain when I’m anywhere near him. Not too much fun to be around.”

“I’ve heard he’s one of those guys who gets all embarrassed around girls,” Aoi said, giggling at your surprised expression.

“Huh…” you said, a little stunned. Who knew a big, scary biker got all tongue-tied?

“Perhaps you may feel assured if you expressed your feelings to Ishimaru openly,” Sakura suggested, holding her lunch very daintily for such a large woman.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you sighed.

You’d been avoiding Ishimaru and Mondo over the past couple of days or so, licking your wounds, but you knew that it was only delaying an inevitable confrontation of some sort.

“I should talk to him. Thanks, you guys.”

“Anytime!” Aoi beamed at you. “Oh, hey, want to come shopping with us after school? I need to get a new swimsuit for my upcoming race and it might take your mind off things.”

You smiled.



“Are you sure you don’t need a ride home?” Aoi asked you, her big blue eyes wide.

“Don’t worry, you two, I can call for a taxi inside and wait until it’s parked right outside. Seriously, if you have to get home early, go. I’m a big girl; I can get home by myself.”

Persuading the girls to leave the mall without you took a while, and you had to swear and swear that you’d text the both of them the minute you got home, they finally took off. You waited until they were out of your sight and then set off walking. It’s a nice enough evening, you don’t have enough cash for a cab and besides, you’d like a little solitude.

You couldn’t help but let your mind wander to the whole friend situation as you walked. You were totally jealous, but of what, exactly? It’s not that you didn’t want Ishimaru to make other friends, but…

Was it just that you wanted to be Ishimaru’s best friend, or were your feelings more complicated than that? Your face felt hot. Or was this about Mondo? Those two acting like they’d known each other all their lives, while you’d probably never had an actual conversation with him without Ishimaru as a buffer. And, okay, maybe you thought he was pretty hot, but he didn’t seem to know what to do with you. Was Aoi right or did he just not like you?

You were so lost in your errant thoughts that you didn’t notice the rumbling of an engine, or a light falling over your legs before a voice rang out;


You nearly jumped out of your skin and spun on your heel.

Well, speak of the devil…

“M-Mondo?!” you blurted out, idiotically – who else has hair like that?

“The fuck’re you doin’ out here?” Mondo demanded, without preamble. Talk about blunt. “Ya got a death wish walkin’ around at night by yourself?”

“I’m going home, obviously,” you snorted, hands on your hips, exuding sassiness. “Just taking the long way.”

“Tch, no you ain’t,” he grunted. “Get on.”

You stared at him, then at the bike, a dubious look crossing your features. You hadn’t ridden a normal bike in years, much less a motorbike. You weren’t entirely confidant in your ability not to just go flying off it the moment it set off.

“Is that thing safe?”

Mondo rolled his lavender eyes, not too dissimilarly to the way you did when Ishimaru went off on one of his tangents about rules. Maybe it was catching?

“Just get on, will ya?” he ordered and holy hell, was he blushing? It’s hard to tell under the orange glow of the streetlight, but the way he pointedly avoided looking you in the eye spoke volumes.

You might have dithered a bit more, when you felt a tiny splash of rain on your forearm. Damn it, you didn’t bring a jacket. Or shoes that could withstand a torrent, for that matter. You sighed and nodded.

Oh no, this isn’t awkward at all, you thought as you approached cautiously and slid onto the bike, very carefully wrapping your arms around Mondo as though he might snap them off.

The leather of his jacket was pleasantly cool against your cheek, because god help you; you were blushing like an idiot. But it was hard not to- you could faintly feel a heartbeat through the leather and there was something about the solid form you had your arms wrapped around that made you feel weirdly…safe?

God, this was stupid. You were really glad he couldn’t see your face right about now.

“Which way?” Mondo said, his voice rumbling along with the bike, and you told him where you lived…which only occurred to you was kinda reckless after he set off.

You just gave your address to a guy in a biker gang! You thought, eyes widening as the realisation hit you.

“So where the hell’ve you been the last coupla days, anyway?” Mondo said abruptly – it seemed it was easier for him to talk to a girl when he couldn’t actually see her.

“Huh?” you asked, glancing up at the back of his head.

“I-Ishimaru won’t shut up about you missin’ lunch and diet requirements and shit.”

Ah, so he had noticed. The thought made you feel guiltier than ever, he probably had no idea what he’d done, yet something else stuck out – not only was Mondo freely telling you this, but his ears were distinctly pink as he said it.

Fucking. Adorable.

“…You guys seem to be pretty into all your crazy contests and I couldn’t think of what to say,” you answered, after a moment’s consideration. “And…well, I didn’t think you liked me being around very much.”

“Wh- huh?!” he said, loudly – it seemed whatever he thought you were going to say, that wasn’t it.

“Turns out, you just can’t talk to girls,” you teased, reaching for your old ally – comedy.

“Sh-shut up!” Mondo yelled, indignation peppering the words, and the ears turned an even darker pink.

“Oh my god, are you embarrassed? That’s so cute!”

“Don’t make me throw you off!” he threatened, which really wasn’t much of a threat at all, because you knew there was no way in hell he’d actually do it, especially not after straight up demanding to give you a ride home.

You lapsed into a contented silence after that, though at one point, Mondo ran over a bump or a pot-hole or something that made the entire bike jolt and you yelped and squeezed him even tighter. Mondo was gritting his jaw because fuck, your breath was on his neck and breasts squishing against his back. He forced himself to concentrate on the road.

Eventually the streets started to look familiar to you and you realised with a shot of surprise that you were nearly home. The journey had gone by so fast…

“So, um,” you said, more loudly than you needed to, your forehead resting somewhere between Mondo’s shoulder blades. “Thanks. You know. For the ride. And stuff.”

Ugh, could you please try and sound dumber, because I don’t think that was dumb enough. You thought, clenching your eyes shut. Mondo grunted.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, shrugging his expansive shoulders. “I’d better see ya to lunch tomorrow, got it?”

You laughed softly, swinging your legs around and hopping off the bike. You felt a lot better now that your feet were touching solid ground again.

“I’ll be there.”

Another grunt.



“You are late!”

“I’m not late,” you sighed at your friend as he looked very tempted to wag his finger at you, “You can’t get mad at me for making you wait if you insist on showing up everywhere way earlier than you need to.”

Ishimaru laughed heartily at that.

“But of course! It is a sign of my diligence that I would never keep someone waiting, especially not my two very good friends!”

“Yeah, yeah, c’mon, I’m hungry,” Mondo rolled his eyes and jerked a thumb over his shoulder, though he couldn’t quite stop the smile that pulled at his lips. “Movie starts in ten.”

You snorted and followed the guys, watching with amusement as Ishimaru reacted with horror when Mondo tried to buy some beer (nobody was going to ID him, with that height and scary look), and the two of them bickered good-naturedly about it at the counter while you hummed over the selection of candy. Ishimaru didn’t eat sugar much because he had to be such a rules junkie even about that, but you made sure to order a large popcorn anyway. Just in case he changed his mind.

“Are you two done yet?” you said, taking a pointed slurp of your giant Coke, “We’ll miss the movie.”

Those were the magic words, because Ishimaru promptly freaked out about not showing up to a movie on time (even if you and Mondo insisted you were only missing the trailers) and chivvied you both down the hallway. You smirked and took another sip of your drink.

Eventually you found somewhere to sit, and Mondo pretty much immediately stole a handful of your popcorn (you shot him a look but you couldn’t really get annoyed about it) and Ishimaru whispered loudly about the floor being sticky and wanted to know who was doing such a slapdash job of cleaning the room after customers left.

“Yo, I wanna see that one!” Mondo whispered, watching a trailer for something that seemed to have a lot of explosions and, yes, a bike race. “Fucking badass, right there!”

“Of course you do,” you snorted.

“Sssh! It is rude to talk during screenings, you know!” Ishimaru said, shushing you far louder than either of you had been speaking.

“Oh, shush,” you teased, holding out your popcorn. “You sure you don’t want some? I ordered a lot of it…”

Ishimaru hesitated, looking conflicted about having to either eat excess sugar or reject a polite offer.

“Well…I suppose a handful…wouldn’t hurt.”

“Heh.” Mondo snorted and you suppressed the urge to giggle yourself. Naturally, the innuendo went completely over Ishimaru’s head he thoughtfully crunched on popcorn.

Further conversation was silenced when the actual movie finally made its appearance. Honestly, you hadn’t even listened when the plot had been explained to you…you just wanted to hang out with your friends, honestly.

A ridiculous smile spread across your face as you thought that, and you were very grateful that it was dark and the boys were too wrapped up in what was going on onscreen to notice. But there you were, sitting in a darkened theatre room with a delinquent on one side of you and the school prefect on the other. Mondo was leaning against you slightly (probably because it was cold in here and you hadn’t thought to bring a jacket when it had been fine outside. He was wearing his, of course) and your thigh was nudging Ishimaru’s, the brilliant white of his uniform making him impossible to miss. Funny, it was the kind of thing you’d have thought they would want to do as “bros”, but the way they reacted when you said that of course you’d go with them, it made you feel pretty good.

You shifted, feeling popcorn crunch under your feet and the aircon blowing relentlessly at the back of your neck.

“Oi, you gonna finish that?” Mondo asked, pointing at your popcorn, which you’d been severely neglecting.

“Huh? Oh, nah, you take it,” you said, handing it over without second thought.

“Thanks!” Mondo grinned, shoving quite a lot into his mouth. “Yer’th befst…”

Ishimaru was still engrossed in the movie, but he shot you that smile of his again, wordlessly agreeing with his “bro’s” garbled statement. You smiled and looked down at your feet. So weird to think these two hated each other at first. But there they were, a biker, the school prefect, and you. Three differing sides, yet somehow, it worked.

You settled back into your seat, between your two best friends, a weird feeling of contentedness settling over you. Total opposites – and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

What Fortune Lent: Happenstance

Summary:  AU; The Southern Raiders’ mission aims true and Katara is taken to the Fire Nation as a prisoner of war. As her circumstances and the political climate change, she forms unexpected alliances and makes it her mission to restore her people and find the Avatar. Written for Zutara Week 2015.

Chapter 1:  Happenstance

ff.net | ao3

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anonymous asked:


Who is louder?

Stiles, definitely. Like, he gets so loud the neighbors can hear them, and it actually gets so bad at one point that a neighbor comes to their door complaining about their obnoxiously loud sex noises and how she can’t fucking sleep because their fucking all the time and are shouting “oh, yeah, yes, more!” all the damn time. 

Derek is embarrassed while Stiles is cocky, saying, “what can I say? My man is good in the sack. You should be so lucky.”

She leaves scandalized and Derek tells Stiles he won’t be getting sex that night, nay, for a week, and Stiles is indignant, running after Derek to change his mind. And of course he succeeds.

Who is more experimental?

Stiles. Like Derek is up for a lot, but even Derek isn’t up for the really crazy things, and Stiles gets Derek to try a few things, but Stiles wants to try this crazy, almost impossible position and Derek just taps out with a “nope” and pushes Stiles off him and walking away, with Stiles saying “don’t be like that, baby! We almost had it!” and running after him.

Who takes more risks?

Derek does - not in sexy times - but in every day life. And they still have a hectic life sometimes because it’s Beacon Hills and it’s not always peaceful, even when things have calmed down, and Derek is always taking risks, crazy risks that make Stiles angry, pissed off, because he’s scared and doesn’t want Derek to die, doesn’t he fucking get that? It’s always something they fight about.

But Stiles takes risks sometimes too if it means saving Derek, his dad, and saving his friends, and Derek always feels like he’s a having a heart attack when he does.

Do they fuck or make love?

Both. Sometimes they both just want to fuck, have it quick and dirty and leaving them debauched and fucked out, to just get off real quick because of time or just a need for it, but other times they want to make love, to go slow, take their time with each other, explore each other’s bodies, and hold hands and have their bodies pressed as close together as they can, and whisper “I love you” between kisses, and let their feelings for each other take over in the best way. Making love always leaves them a little more boneless and breathless and unable to move.

Lights on or off?

Generally on, because they love to look at each other, but if they’re in the mood for slow and sensual, they’ll have the lights off, or they’ll just do it in the middle of the night in the dark if they’re horny enough ;)

Who is more likely to be caught masturbating?  

Stiles, but Derek would just walk over to Stiles, who’s standing there, panting, dick in hand, looking glassy eyed at Derek and help him out and make him come faster and harder.

Who comes first?

Generally Stiles, but Derek comes first sometimes too, and as they get older Stiles is able to hold out a little longer too, so it becomes more even in who comes first. 

Who is better at oral and who prefers it?

Derek is better at oral, but Stiles lovesss to suck Derek off, almost as much as the butt stuff, and he’s very enthusiastic and that makes it goooddd. But Derek can totally suck Stiles’ brains out of his dick, for sure.

Who is more submissive?

They alternate, honestly. Sometimes Stiles is in the mood to be submissive and at other times Derek is in the mood to be submissive. But Stiles might like it just a little bit more than Derek, and loves to really get into it if they play on a dominant and submissive type of thing during sex. 

But out of the bedroom, neither are submissive, and they call each other out on their bullshit and don’t back down from each other (which leads to hot, angry sex, mhmm) 

Who usually initiates things?

Derek does, and Stiles enthusiastically responds to him, but Stiles has his moments where he initiates it - and usually isn’t as smooth as Derek. 

Who is more sensitive?

Derek totally is. He acts like he isn’t, is great at putting on that mask, but Stiles can always tell when something has hurt him, or Stiles has hurt his feelings, and Stiles feels bad every time he says something assholish to Derek when he didn’t deserve it - Stiles just gets in awful moods sometimes - and he has to go and apologize to Derek and make it up to him - and they always have a fun time making up. 

It takes a lot to hurt Stiles’ feelings, but Derek still manages it, and then it’s Derek’s turn to do the apologizing. 

Alyssa cannot recall the precise moment she realized her dream gig as a Buffalo Bills cheerleader had turned into a nightmare.

Each week held so many indignities.

Supervisors ordered the cheerleaders, known as the Buffalo Jills, to warm up in a frigid, grubby stadium storeroom that smelled of gasoline. They demanded that cheerleaders pay $650 for uniforms. They told the cheerleaders to do jumping jacks to see if flesh jiggled.

The Jills were required to attend a golf tournament for sponsors. The high rollers paid cash — “Flips for Tips” — to watch bikini-clad cheerleaders do back flips. Afterward, the men placed bids on which women would ride around in their golf carts.

A not-incidental detail: The carts had no extra seats. Women clung to the back or, much more to the point, were invited to sit in the men’s laps.

For these and more humiliations, and for hundreds of hours of work and practices, Alyssa and her fellow cheerleaders on the Buffalo Jills received not a penny of wages, not from the subcontractor and certainly not from the Buffalo Bills, a team that each year makes revenue in excess of $200 million.


Buffalo Bills Cheerleaders’ Fight for Wages and Respect - NYTimes.com

We will monitor everything you do, the women were told.

The team’s contractor handed the women a contract and a personnel code, and told them to sign on the spot. The team dictated everything from the color of their hair to how they handled their menstrual cycle.

The contractor required they visit a sponsor who was a plastic surgeon. He offered a small discount if they opted for breast augmentation and other services. Larger breasts, however, were not a condition of nonpaid employment.

A/N: For my darling Chinx (seastarved) on the occasion of her birth. HAPPY BIRTHDAY. I wrote you a thing because it’s (only mildly) easier than mailing myself to India. Go eat some cake my sociopathic runaway wannabe.

The pestilence was a curse, the quarantine was condemnation, but it was the way that the sickness burst through the doors of the orphanage – the only place that she had ever called home – that really changed Emma’s life.

CS Plague AU


Death Walks Behind You



Emma thought it would be impossible to predict whether the first day or the last would be the worst.

One was laden in chaos – the scrambling of families and children, the begging and pleading as at the crack of almost dawn soldiers came to their streets. They came with wooden barriers, several men high and who knew how thick, dragged and lodged into place in amongst violent protests, swords snagging anyone who tried to get through. Emma watched it all as though it were happening in slow motion; people moved slowly in the shock of it, movements playing catch up to their thoughts, too distracted with the sinking of their stomachs.

They were still blinking away sleep.

And it was loud. The shouts and cries so loud and desperate that it all became white noise, too much blaring in her ears to handle.

They came with death warrants, disguised as planks of wood.

It was a quarantine.

The word was almost as quick to say as it was to enact, almost as quick to enact as it was to understand.

Nothing was quicker than the panic and the way dread took up residence.

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obsessedrandomness  asked:

HELLO THERE GORGEOUSLY TALENTED GINGERSNAP! (our-stitch-lab here!) <3 Meet the Stitcher Day 5 one-word prompt: Camsten + Skyline! =]

Here you go! This became something kind of off-topic, and it was more sunset than skyline, but hopefully it’s okay.

“This is ridiculous.” Cameron puffed from somewhere behind her. Kirsten rolled her eyes.

“It’s good for you.”

“Broccoli is good for you. Drinking eight glasses of water a day is good for you. This is torture. I think I’m having a stroke.” His whining hadn’t stopped for nearly forty-five minutes now. At first Kirsten had thought it was irritating, but now she just found it amusing.

“A lot of people hike, Cameron. We live in California, it won’t kill you to try it once.”

“Actually, I think it might. I think it is.”

She stopped, turning to face him with a skeptical expression. They’d been hiking for six hours so far, and he was barely breaking a sweat. He liked to call himself a nerd, and sure, he was. But she’d seen what he looked like under all that plaid and that was not the build of someone who didn’t take care of himself. He would deny it, probably, but she also happened to know that he went running almost as often as she did. She wasn’t sure what the point of all this complaining was, because it certainly had nothing to do with him being out of shape.

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anonymous asked:

hi,you are one of my favorite people on tumblr, i'm sorry if it bothers you but i just want to know your opinion on shippers that are currently arguing about their ship week colliding. IMO, it doesn't really make any changes but i get they're upset bcus their organizers work hard but dont you also think it is unfair to unisonraidd? she work hard too and telling her to cancel/change dates is not nice in my opinion ;_; i <3 her, why must she get all the hate? oversahdowing? that sounds bs to me

Oh anon, answering this question is like lighting a match near some gasoline, eh? 

But I’m going to do it anyway, because I keep seeing the Gruvia fandom being bullied and hated on, AND feeling badly about themselves, and it really needs to stop.

So, I’m going to try and break down the situation as objectively as I can from what I saw going on last night. If I get anything wrong, please do feel free to correct me.

Personally, what I see, are two people who wanted to organize a shipping week, but because others had already claimed/planned to do the smutfest/lovefest gruvia week, they decided to do a different/opposite spin on lovefest, and came up with “fluff fest.” Both weeks are meant to promote fun, support and spread the love for their OTP while bringing the Gruvia fandom together. 

Now, they unfortunately scheduled their week on the same week as Stingue’s first ever shipweek (as well as overlapping a day of Jerza’s lovefest if I’m not mistaken?).

Am I good so far?

Ok, this understandably upset the organizers of Stingue’s week. Now, IMO the best course of action here from both sides, was to discuss the situation calmly, rationally and CIVILLY and explain why it would be best if Fluff Fest would be moved to a different date, so as not to steal anyone’s thunder.

However, from the posts I saw in the Gruvia mobile tag last night, not only did the reactions from the Stingue organizers/friends of organizers seem less than calm, they were downright insulting. The majority of the Gruvia fandom were labeled as “obnoxious,” people were being addressed as “fuckers,” the Gruvia fluff fest was called “stupid” and “pretentious.”

Moving along, the people behind fluff fest apologized and MOVED the date of their week. As far as I know they never refused to outright move it. They just refused to cancel it. 

Now, and again, as far as I know, there is no great FT Fandom rule book that states “thou shalt only be allowed one ship week, at most thou shalt have two, but no more.” Nor is there any great rule that says “two ship weeks must not coincide.”

No, the only reason people try not to have multiple ship weeks at the same time is out of respect and courtesy, in an effort to not overshadow the other.

Now, and again, if Stingue’s organizers had approached the situation with simply the above argument and left it at that, I personally would be much more sympathetic, but they didn’t. Instead, they were rude, aggressive, and essentially bullied the Fluff Fest organizers into switching weeks. They also seemed very indignant that the Fluff Fest organizers weren’t aware that Stingue week was a thing, even though they themselves admitted it’s a small ship having it’s first week. So, wouldn’t that logically follow that PERHAPS the organizers don’t ship Stingue, and therefore had no idea the week was occurring at all, let alone on what date?

And as far as I can tell, from what was said, what they’d really prefer is if Fluff Fest for Gruvia didn’t exist AT ALL because they feel like Fluff Fest is essentially just a regular Gruvia week 2.0. 

YES, the Gruvia fandom is large. YES the tag is always very active. YES the ship gets a lot of moments, attention and focus in the manga and anime itself. AND? Honestly, sometimes I feel like this is really what people are getting upset over when stuff like this happens.

The point is, there is no great rule book of the FT fandom. Gruvia fans could arrange for 52 Gruvia weeks a year and nobody has any right to say a damn thing about it. As others rightly said, these weeks take place in the ships tag. In fact, separate tags are usually created JUST for the ship week. And no one is required to participate. And in the case of Gruvia and Stingue, they aren’t even rival pairings, so it’s unlikely that there will be much overlap between participants ANYWAY. 

Also, when other ships decided to add a second week, not a “boo” was heard. Imagine if the Gruvia fandom had decided on it first? Something tells me they would have been met with a similar reaction as this one regardless of when they scheduled their week. 

And now, the organizers of the Fluff Fest, who again APOLOGIZED and MOVED their week, are getting hate on top of everything else.

So, the Gruvia Fluff Fest organizers (and the fandom and ship in general) get insulted (as does their event) for a simple mistake (which isn’t even a mistake, because again, there is no overarching FT Fandom rules in the first place), but apologize anyway, and do the courteous thing of moving their week.

The other event organizers insult a huge mass of people and deal with the situation very rudely indeed. And to top it all off, anons continue to send cowardly hate to Gruvians, trashing them and the ship itself for not feeling “sorry,” for daring to have another week, and for mistakenly scheduling it to coincide on a different ship’s week. 

One side is trying to spread love, the other hate. 

Who’s right and who’s wrong in this situation? You tell me.