well the launch of it anyway

burn through my soul

a  fyre festival au because i have 0 chill, set in the ‘marble hearts collide’ universe bc ria asked for like an 80k companion fic, and because 36 of you seemed to like the idea. basically: it’s half fyre and half ust denial jily and a Big Mess.

for @gxldentrio @petalstofish who asked for more and @fredweasleying who supports james and sirius’ stupidity

most of my info is off the snapchat stories, articles and tweets but i’ve also done a lot of exaggerating, so take all reference to the festival with a bit of salt

It’s Sirius’ idea because, if it involves a stupid waste of money and the promise of celebrity chefs, it will always be his idea. And, because it’s Sirius’ idea, James is in. 

“It’s ridiculous,” Lily says, scrolling through the festival’s instagram. 

“No, it’s luxury,” Sirius says and snatches his phone back, “you wouldn’t understand.”

Remus raises an eyebrow, “she practically lives with you, I think she understands what luxury is.”

“And waste of money,” Peter adds, helpfully. 

“I can’t believe I let any of you into my house, when you’ve just come to insult me!” Sirius pouts, throwing himself dramatically back on the chaise. 

“Criticise your money spending habits,” Remus corrects, and just manages to dodge a throw pillow Sirius launches at him. 

‘What does Potter think, anyway?” Lily asks, looking down at her own phone. 

“Why does Potter’s opinion matter?” Sirius retorts. 

Lily is definitely avoiding eye contact, “It doesn’t.”

There’s a murmur of disbelief, and Lily scowls at her phone, knowing that if she looks up she’ll be accosted by five raised eyebrows, because only Sirius has learnt how to raise both separately. 

“But, seriously, when is Prongs back?”

“Well, Moony, funny you should ask…” Sirius smirks, “he arrived last night.”

Lily’s head shoots up, “but -”

“But what Evans, not happy to see me?” A voice comes from the doorway, and they all turn to see James leaning, not as gracefully as Sirius would have, against the doorjamb with a smirk to match Sirius’ on his face. 

“How long have you guys been planning that?” Peter asks, and he’s not as fast as Remus so a throw pillow hits him in the stomach.

Remus laughs, “probably longer than they’ve been planning this festival bullshit.” 

“Losers,” Lily mutters, finally looking away from James, pretending that her phone screen is more interesting than the bit of chest his loosely tied dressing gown shows. 

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What’s In the Box?1?!

Well, technically it’s a case, but “What’s in the case?” doesn’t have the same ring. The image above should be relatively self-explanatory, but I’ll go through it step-by-step anyway.

What you’re seeing above are all the goodies included in the launch edition of The Binding of Isaac: Afterbirth+ for Nintendo Switch.

For $39.99 USD you get the following:

- The lovely physical game card and fancy Nintendo Switch game case
- A REVERSIBLE alternate front cover
- A high-quality, glossy official sticker set featuring some fan favorite characters

One of the important things I want to mention (because I don’t want anyone to be sad later) is that THESE ITEMS WILL NOT BE INCLUDED in subsequent runs. This is launch edition-only stuff right here. If you plan on buying The Binding of Isaac: Afterbirth+ for Nintendo Switch, you should probably pre-order or do your best to get it at launch (I highly recommend the latter). I don’t know how long supplies of this stuff will last at retail (probably not very long).

So, don’t be an egg… pre-order yours right now!

Moving on. There’s a new update coming up with more bugfixes. Hopefully, by now, it’s easy enough for even Northernlion to get past the Basement.

Also, keep those mods coming.

Loathing [b.b] (6/10)

Originally posted by thespoilerwitchblog

catch up here: Loathing Masterpost

Series Title: Loathing (AU)
Fandom: MCU
Characters: Bucky Barnes x female!reader, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff
Warnings: Alternate Universe, minor swearing
Word Count: 1,664
Requested: Yes, by all of you who love this story, which makes me really happy xxx
Short Description: You vent to Natasha and Wanda, trying to figure out what to do about the Bucky situation. In the meantime, Bucky goes to Steve for more advice.

Disclaimer: not my gif

[Y/N] = your first name

After hastily stuffing a shoulder bag with a few clothes and some other necessities, you deserted your bedroom promptly and made your way to the front door of your apartment, disregarding Bucky’s presence wholly; even as he hollered your name after you, struggling to stop you from leaving. You slammed the front door shut, knowing that Bucky would have to explain everything to Steve before snatching your phone and making your way into the elevator of your apartment building. You angrily pushed the ground floor button and waited for the elevator to move as you dialled Natasha’s number.

The phone rang a few times before Natasha’s voice rang into your ear. “Hello?” she answered her phone almost instantaneously, sounding flabbergasted that you had called. “Y/N? How did your date go?” Oh, that. You frowned, reminded that it was Nat that had set you up with Matt, who had discarded you because of Bucky. 

This recognition made you irritated all over again, and soon, you were fuming. “Barnes chased him off,” you told her, which rendered Nat speechless. “Can I stay with you for a while? I really don’t want to be in the same apartment as him for a while.” You added, arriving on the ground floor of your apartment building and exiting it, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder.

“Of course, hon, you’re always welcome.” She promised, before hanging up, letting you get into your car and drive to Nat’s place. 

When she got your call, Natasha had called Wanda over for reinforcements. By the sound of your voice, you would definitely be needing the two of them. After parking outside Nat’s apartment, you grabbed your bag from the backseat of your car and made your way up the granite steps to her apartment. After knocking thrice, Natasha opened the door for you, dressed in a pair of black, ripped skinny jeans and a casual white, cropped t-shirt. “Hey,” she greeted looking at you with an apologetic expression before letting you into her apartment. When you walked into the living room, you spotted Wanda lying sideways on one of Nat’s sofas, looking as if she had been waiting for you to arrive.

“Please explain what happened,” Wanda requested, swinging her legs over the sofa and sitting properly, her brown eyes curious. “Nat filled me in but you barely told her anything on the phone, so there wasn’t much to tell me.”

You sighed, putting your bag down on the floor and taking a seat next to Wanda, Nat choosing the loveseat opposite the both of you. “Barnes… he chased away my date.” You recalled, still a little confused, since so much had happened in such a short amount of time. “I’m not exactly sure how, but I thought that Matt was running late or something, but after a while, I knew he wouldn’t be coming.” You frowned. “Then Barnes started talking about how I was so much better than that guy and that I shouldn’t waste my time and such. And then, he blurted out that the guy seemed like a dickhead.”

Nat sighed in annoyance. “So he accidentally revealed that he had met your date?” you nodded, motioning to Natasha with your hand to confirm her thoughts. “Well, just for the record, Matt is not a dickhead, he’s actually really great.” It was clear that Natasha was conflicted – she didn’t want to pick sides, as Bucky was her friend too – but she certainly seemed annoyed.

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Suggestions for Foreign Language Base Vocabulary

this is all from Polyglot: How I Learn Languages by Kató Lomb. 

Let me include a short list of words you will need if you want to make contact with someone who doesn’t speak your mother tongue:

  • Contact-making words – Hello. Excuse me? Thank you. Please. I’m sorry. Good morning, good afternoon, good evening. Good-bye.
  • Ready-made formulas –  I’m from the U.S. I don’t speak… Do you speak…? Please say it again. Slower please. Where is…?
  • Pronouns – I. You. Whose? Mine, yours… Who? What? This, that.
  • Adverbs of place, time, etc. – Here. There. Where? To the right. To the left. Straight on. Already. Yet. Still. Now. When? How many? How much? Many, much, few, little, more.
  • Auxiliary words – Have to, must. May. Can. I’d like… Why? Because…
  • Inflected forms of “to be” and “to have” – [Language dependent]
  • Numbers (and dates)*–  From one till ten, till a hundred. Days of the week, names of the months. Today, tomorrow, etc.
  • Important verbs – Leave. Arrive. Come, go. Start, finish. Eat, drink, look for, find, buy, get on, get off, have, know.
  • Nouns – It is a difficult question as their priority depends on the situation. For a tourist: room, bed, bathroom. In a restaurant: soup, bread, meat, water, beer, pasta. If you have some money for shopping, you don’t have to do anything but point. You will be understood.
  • Adjectives in the positive and comparative degree –  Big, small. Cheap, expensive. Hot, cold. Good, bad.

This list, of course, can be extended and reduced at will. You can also play with it by checking how many forms you can instantly express in their foreign equivalents.

Unfortunately, there are a host of expressions that play a greater role in making you fluent than verbs, nouns, adjectives, and all other “responsible” word-classes. I call them filler words because their common property is that they don’t change the essence of a sentence, they only supplement it. Such filler words are quite, obviously, rather, of course, well, in fact, though, mostly, certainly, instead, a lot, still, anyway, etc. It is not easy to memorize them because there are no objective concepts attached to them, yet I recommend learning them with all my heart.

Since we are discussing filler words, let’s not forget filling clauses, either. These are usually sentence-launching expressions, not even bricks of the building of language but in fact ready-made slabs of it. They can be carried to the spot in prefabricated forms and plastered in immediately. Their great advantage is that they provide transitions between banal discourse and important discourse. In addition, they allow time to recall expressions that have sunk deep into your memory and to strike the tuning fork, which I have mentioned several times.

*originally this category was just “Numbers”, the (and dates) is my addition for clarity 

anonymous asked:

#2 stony

‘hey hey, calm down- they can’t hurt you any more’.


I’m going to vomit, Tony thought vaguely, falling on to all fours as he gagged up the phantom water that he could feel crawling up his throat.

He couldn’t breathe. His chest was concaving in on itself, there was a jagged gap where his heart should be, someone had their hands in his chest on a dirty bench in a cave and he couldn’t fucking breathe, shit, all he could feel was water, all he could taste was sand and dirt and blood in the back of his mouth, Obie was there and he was laughing and Tony had no one left in the world to trust anymore-

“Today you woke up and ate two gluten free waffles, before stealing the remainder of Clint’s cereal to be petty.”

There was smoke and fire and bombs and screams and it was Tony’s fault, it was all his fault, he was going to die knowing that he could have prevented this, he could’ve stopped it-

“You said you wouldn’t have sex with me ever again if I didn’t protect you from his wrath when he found out, and I told you that you couldn’t go more than four days without me. You agreed, and said I had to protect you anyway. I did, because I’m a pushover for you in the mornings. Well, who am I kidding- I’m a pushover for you all the time.”

Tony was being dragged away now, and he could taste the disgusting water as it choked on the back of his throat- but now it was something else too- someone else was there, there was… someone was laughing. About cereal.

And Tony felt warm despite the freezing water that ran down his back.

“Clint came down the stairs and you looked like you were literally about to be murdered, so you launched yourself across the table and kissed me like it was the last time you ever would, and of course that was enough to persuade me to defend you from the oncoming wrath of Barton when he discovered his favourite box of cereal in the trash.”

…Things were getting confusing. 

Tony couldn’t- he didn’t know what was real any more, he was choking on bile and water and dirt and laughter, as he hightailed it through the tower in desperate attempt to avoid Clint’s outraged cries and projectiles while Steve just shook his head in the background and Natasha cheered them on.

He couldn’t… it didn’t… everything was a goddamn mess in his head, holy shit-

“Tony?” The voice was soft and gentle and near, but Tony didn’t flinch, because Tony knew that voice better than anything; that voice was safe. That voice was home.

He opened his eyes. Steve was crouched next to him, a safe distance away on the floor.

“If I’m allowed to touch you, just give me a nod,” he said.

God, if it had been any other person, Tony would have screamed at the very thought.
But Steve… Steve was so warm. So much warmer than that horrible fucking tank of water-

He nodded his head.

And suddenly, he could hear something that wasn’t his own screams. He felt something that wasn’t cold or scratchy or agony. He smelt something other than blood and stale air.

“Hey, hey,” Steve soothed, his arms so very gentle around Tony’s waist, “calm down, my love- they can’t hurt you any more. I swear.”

He could hear the wracking shudders of his own chest as it rattled against Steve’s; feel the shaking of his fingers as they curled into the fabric around Steve’s shoulders so hard that his knuckles turned white. 

It was proof that this was real. This was where he was. A broken mess of a man sobbing on the floor as the love of his life held him through it all. This was real. It was embarrassing and humiliating, but it wasn’t…

It wasn’t the cave.

He gasped, lungs failing to do their job effectively enough as he struggled to find air- but Steve was still there, rubbing his shoulders and gently coaxing the life back into his body, bit by painful bit, each second broken by the sound of steve’s voice, explaining his day so far and somehow making it into a great adventure, when Tony knew it was really quite dull.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there. But when he finally pulled away from Steve, he could not longer taste anything in the back of his throat.

“It will never happen again, Tony.” Steve whispered, his lips feather-light against Tony’s forehead.

Tony laughed, and his voice was broken from the crying. “You seem sure of that.”

Steve just gave him a long look, stroking the hair from his eyes and letting his thumb linger across the outline of his cheekbone.

“I am, yes. Because there is not a lot I can’t do when I put my mind to it, and Tony Stark, I would move heaven and Earth to make sure you never suffered like that. Never again.”

It was ridiculous. It was ridiculous and unrealistic and a perfect example of steve’s idealism. 

And yet-

“i believe you,” Tony whispered.

What if?

Imagine: RWBY volume 1. The first time we see Jaune, motion sick etc etc.

Ruby’s having her bad day with her sour introduction to Weiss. Jaune extends his hand to her, helping her up.

“Pfft, aren’t you the guy that threw up on the ship?”
“…look, all I’m saying is that motion sickness is a much more common problem than you’d believe!”


“So… I have this?” Ruby takes out her weapon Crescent Rose, and Jaune is surprised:

“Whoa, that’s a big scythe”
“It’s also a customized high impact sniper rifle”
“It’s also a gun?”
“It’s also a gun.”

“What about you? What’s your weapon?”

“Ehh, I’ve never been one for the fancy stuff- this is my great grandfather’s sword, it was passed down to me. Oh, and press the scabbard here!”

And she does. And the shield unfolds. “Ooh!”
“The scabbard’s also a shield. Even though this weapon’s super old, it can take a beating. Cool, right?”
“Yeah- there’s nothing wrong with the classics!”

It’s different. (read more)

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Requested by spacedreamfighter (and no, my dear, you’re not the only one)

Classic Who, Soulmate AU.

The nightmares don’t stop after a week, or in three weeks, or even a month. You still wake up with your heart trying to burst out of your chest, bloody and violently afraid, not all that much unlike those nasty little creatures from Alien- you strongly sympathize with Sigourney Weaver. This, unfortunately, isn’t a macabre streak of pop culture humor that you can share with anyone. The movie won’t be coming out for another, oh… eight years. So the Angels still haunt you at night. You don’t know why or how they did this to you, and you don’t particularly care. You just want them out of your nightmares. More than that, though, you want to go home.

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The Great Bathroom Competition

@stephanniesissues requested Uni!lock, some kind of competition! 

What’s more petty than a bathroom race, tbh.

Molly looked at the clock on the wall, shower caddy in her arms.

“Honestly,” her roommate, Mary Morstan, sat on her side of the dorm room. “Why on earth you two can’t just work this out-“

“It’s the principle of it,” Molly sniffed, keeping an eye on the time. “Mr-High-and-Mighty Holmes thinks that just because he’s so bloody clever and good-looking he can just commandeer the bathroom whenever he wants, and use up all the hot water!”

“So what’ll it be this time?” Mary asked with a tired grin. She wished both Sherlock and Molly would get off their soapboxes and just snog already. Meantime, their competition to see who could get to the bathroom first, was genuinely an amusing one. Everything from soaped up doorways to full on sprints across the campus to the big shared house on Baker Street they all crowded into.

The alarm on Molly’s phone went off and she got up, quite calmly.

“See you in a few hours then,” she waved.

“Hours?” Mary wondered aloud. “Oh, yes,” she nodded, remembering Molly had stopped by a beauty shop to pick up a few things for the bathroom. “That’ll prove interesting.”

Molly strolled into the vacant bathroom, shut the door and set her things down. She’d set her alarm for a good forty-five minutes ahead of when Sherlock came bolting up the stairs.

At first, this whole thing started because he’d shoved ahead of her one night, jumping into the shower first. Not one to let her precious time in the bath to be pushed aside, she beat him the next night and took a lovely bath. The following night, Sherlock was ahead of her by twenty minutes. In the weeks that followed, various means to delay the other were used to keep them from getting to the bathroom first. Molly did admit the race across London just to get into the shower first was a bit ridiculous, though to be fair, Sherlock should have known she’d beat him. She was on her school’s track team for most of her teens. Naturally, he retaliated by soaping her doorway up so she’d slipped and nearly knocked her head. It was funny, if she was honest, but Mrs. Hudson, the landlord, who happened to live downstairs, told Sherlock that if he ever did such a thing again, she’d raise his rent, and his only.

So the pranks had subsided, for now. Last night, however, just as Molly had finished running a lovely bath, Sherlock pushed in, and started undressing and climbed in, not at all bothered by her shock. He thanked her for the bath and invited her to join him. The cheeky git! She’d been so furious, she marched right out.

It was quite fortuitous she’d overheard him telling their other flatmate, John Watson, that he’d be home early, ‘to beat Hooper to the bathroom’.

By now, the tub was full, so she swiftly undressed, dropping in her favorite bath bomb.

Just as she was sinking down into the warm water, there was a knock on the door.

“Occupied,” she called.

“I know,” was the muffled response on the other side of the door. “Can I come in?”

“No!” Molly replied. “You’ll just have to wait your turn, Sherlock.”

“I need to use the sink.”

“The sink?” Molly asked, frowning.

“Yes, I’ve got a bloody nose.”

Sighing, she rolled her eyes. Slouching down in the tub, she tugged the shower curtain closer to her, hiding all but her head (he might’ve been pretending after all, she’d want to see if he was actually bleeding). “All right, I’m decent…well, sort of. Anyway the door’s unlocked.”

The door opened and closed, keeping the heat in. “Thanks, sorry,” he was red in the face, blood indeed, streaming down his face.
“Oh my God! You broke your nose!” she nearly launched herself out of the tub, remembering just in time her state of undress. She shoved the shower curtain back so she could see better. “First aid kit under the sink, I just restocked in, there should be those things for broken noses just behind them.”

“John already set it,” he said, rummaging through the cabinet.

“Good.” She looked at her feet, poking out of the bubbles and wriggled her toes. “So…what happened?”

“Someone said something rather crass, and I corrected him,” Sherlock responded tightly, carefully washing off his face.

“Oh.” Silence again. “And they hit you?”

“No, they said something else and then I hit them. They hit me back, but I managed to get him off me long enough for campus police to step in.”

“Did you get into trouble?”

“No, on account of I was stepping in for-“ he glanced quickly at her. “Anyway they let me off with a warning this time.”

“What was said?” Molly wanted to know. “Was it about your brother?”





“It was Jim, and he’d been saying some rather nasty things about you, if you must know, and I didn’t like it!”

Molly leaned back, somewhat surprised.

Looking embarrassed and shy suddenly, he shifted from foot to foot. “Will you hand me a clean flannel, please?”

She reached out of the bath, leaning over the side to the storage basket kept beside it, selecting a soft cloth and held it out to him. He took it, then sat down on the closed toilet opposite her.

“Thanks,” she said, just as he opened his mouth. “For defending me.”

He quirked a smile at her, and Molly felt as if she’d earned some tremendous honor, seeing him so nervous and pleased, and genuinely happy at her words. “I will always defend you, Molly Hooper. You’re quite singular.”

“Thank you,” she answered.

“You know why I started this whole…” he gestured between them and then to the room. “Ridiculous competition?”

She shook her head, grinning.

“I didn’t know how else to talk to you,” he fiddled with the cloth in his hands. “And as time went on, I liked riling you up, seeing how you tried to best me.”

“I did quite a bit, if you recall,” she said, cheeks rosy, laughing.

“You did.”

“Did you mean it then?” she asked after a beat. “Last night, when you said to just get in the tub with you?”

Suddenly quite red, he looked anywhere but at her. “Well I- I didn’t-“ once glance and he stilled. “Yes.”

Reaching for him, she kissed his cheek gently. “Maybe I’ll return the favor to you someday soon,” she smiled. “But not before you’ve bought me dinner.”

Immediately, he stood, heading for the door.

“Where are you going?” she asked, surprised.

“To fetch us dinner,” he said over his shoulder. “Fish and chips all right? I know a man who owns a chippie, gives me extras.”

“Did you get him off a murder charge?” she called after him.

He poked his head back in. “No. I helped him assemble some shelves.” With that, he gave her a sly wink, then shut the door behind him. “Back in ten, don’t let the water get cold!”


“And don’t you forget it!” he called up.

The Cookie (DaiSuga)
  • WARNING: this is not mine. It is from a fanfic and I thought it was amazing and had to post it. I do not own it but I'm thinking of trying the same scenario with other pairings. The text for this post is from the fanfic “you better catch it” by laubear, I recommend you read it, it's awesome. The scene is set as follows: there is a cookie between Daichi and Suga, they are to pretend they are on a stranded island and the cookie is their only means to survive. This is how they deal with it.
  • Daichi: Suga, come on. You have to eat.
  • Suga: I'm not hungry.
  • RA: You are. Both of you are hungry.
  • Suga: I’m not eating anything until Daichi stops
  • being so obnoxiously self-sacrificing.
  • Daichi: You’re blaming me? You started it!
  • Suga: Only because I knew you’d pull something like this anyway. I’d say I only trust you as far as I can throw you, but at this rate I’m going to be able to launch you across the island like a volleyball!
  • Daichi: Oh, don’t exaggerate. Look, sorry. Let’s at least split it in half.
  • *Suga splits the cookie*
  • Daichi: Of course you didn’t break it evenly.
  • Suga: Well. Go ahead. Take a bite.
  • Daichi: I’m saving it for later.
  • Suga: Well, then I’m saving it for later, too.
  • Daichi: Quit it. I know you’re just planning on forcing your half on me later, when the situation gets desperate.
  • RA: Speaking of desperate, another hour passes. You are now both extremely hungry.
  • Daichi: Oh, come on! Okay, how about this. I’ll take a bite if you take one.
  • Suga: Fine. *picks up his half of the cookie*
  • Daichi: ...
  • Suga: Why aren't you eating yours?
  • Daichi: Well I'm not going to eat it until I'm sure you will.
  • Suga: Daichi!
  • RA: Another hour passes. Suga, you pass out from lack of nourishment.
  • Daichi: What? Why not me?!
  • RA: Because I said so. Daichi, what do you do?
  • Daichi: I try to feed him my half of the cookie.
  • RA: Alright. Suga is unconscious and cannot chew. He chokes to death.
  • Daichi: What?! Suga, I'm so sorry-
  • Suga: It's okay Daichi. At least now you've got twice as much food.
  • RA: Daichi, what do you do now?
  • Daichi: Nothing.
  • Suga: Daichi. Eat the cookie. You have to.
  • RA: Suga, no talking, you're dead.
  • Suga: Then I'm a ghost.
  • RA: That's not within the parameters of the experiment. Daichi has to make this decision on his own. By the way, another hour passes. What do you do?
  • Daichi: Nothing.
  • RA: An hour passes.
  • Daichi: *shakes head*
  • Suga: Daichi!
  • RA: Daichi, you pass out from lack of nourishment. Several hours pass, and you die.
  • Suga: Oh my god.
  • Daichi: I was only trying to help!
  • Suga: Well, great job! We're both dead!
WIP - Snowballs and Sheer Luck (Lin-Manuel x Reader)

Summary: You got hit with a snowball out of the blue and universal law states that you must return fire

Word Count: 1,420

Warnings: Language.

A/N: I wrote this ages ago (during that one snowstorm, this was actually the original snowfic I wrote) and then abandoned it. But here’s an abandoned fic for everyone who was so kind and so understanding about me being MIA.

“Fuck you, man! I have to meet with Sherry and Greg still. Some of us have to be responsible adults!” Tommy laughed at Lin who had insisted on tagging along as Tommy walked to this meeting. He also insisted on detouring through the park to appreciate the large patches of untouched snow and Tommy was always one to oblige his more romantic-minded friend.

It was always a given to budget more time than usual when Lin tagged along on commutes, but the snow made it ten times worse. Lin had decided that his source of entertainment during their journey was to launch snowballs at Tommy, making himself burst into a fit of laughter every time one met his target. When Tommy had agreed to let Lin join him on his trek through the snowy city he had also accepted the possibility that he would not reach the meeting with his clothes as dry as when he left for it. But that did not mean that he appreciated Lin’s attack.

“You’re gonna be late anyways, might as well let me have my fun” Lin’s laughter rang through the park before he bent down to pack another snowball - this one larger than all the others.

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Hannah's!Sister vs. School and Bryce

Request: Can you do a head cannon on the reader going back to school finally after Hannah’s death since she was her sister, and Justin or Bryce says something rude so reader tells them off please. - anon

A/N: I hope this is what you wanted, a warning that I personally think Hannah’s sister would care more about grieving Hannah than hating the other people, so that’s why she’s a little calm in this headcannon. I also have this theory that Justin’s actions are based off of the actions of the people around him that he wants to impress, so when he stays with Alex (let’s pretend he stays more than one night) it’s Alex who begins to influence him and he starts to understand what he did wrong, so I’m going to have the reader insert go off at Bryce here [and a little something extra at the end])

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, Mentions of past rape and abuse

Hannah’s Sister vs. School and Bryce…

  • It was your first day back at school since Hannah’s death
  • It was a disaster from the moment you walked in the door, you wanted to lay low but all anyone did was stare at you with pity

  • The posters on the walls were even worse, they were too late for all that supportive crap that they didn’t really care about
  • You paused, considering turning around and walking out before Clay and Tony appeared at your sides

  • They’d both done their parts to help your family get through the tough time, and you trusted them. They’d told you everything to expect and how to handle all the other reasons on the tapes
  • You didn’t want to hold a grudge at the other kids, it wouldn’t bring Hannah back, but you also weren’t going to deal with all their ‘I’m so sorry’ crap

  • It was a conflicting want, whether you would see and forgive the people on the tapes. You figured a couple of them deserved a chance to redeem themselves, but others certainly did not
  • Courtney began to walk up to you as you walked to your locker, and you glared her away before she got the chance to meet you- she didn’t deserve redemption after her rumours, no matter how much you could understand her fear of coming out

  • Classes went by much the same- stares and whispers, and it took everything you had not to snap, but you knew Hannah didn’t want this
  • Hannah wanted you to move on with your life, you’d convinced yourself that’s why she didn’t leave a note, and you were determined to grant her her last wish- or what you’d forced yourself to think was her last wish

  • After class you saw Alex and Justin in the halls together, and you decided to approach them while you waited for Clay and Tony
  • They were both stunned to see you, awkwardly waiting for you to steal the first words

  • You thought it right to give them a little piece of your mind, but then told them you didn’t blame them solely for what they did
  • It was important to you that you didn’t let yourself forget that you love Hannah more than you could hate anyone else

  • You were calm and content with how things had gone with Alex and Justin until Bryce approached
  • All three of you instantly had defences up, and it took all your willpower not to launch at him and attack him for what he’d done to Hannah and your old friend Jessica

  • “Miss Baker… look, I’m really sorry about Hannah,”
  • “No you’re not,”
  • “Uh… okay, well she was a lovely girl, my condolences to the family,”
  • “You ruined her,”
  • “I- I don’t know what you think I did-”
  • “I know what you did. How dare you stand here and lie to me”
  • Things escalated fast between you and Bryce, though Alex and Justin tried to defuse it

  • You’d promised you’d just let the authorities deal with Bryce, but screw it, they were taking too long anyway, so you raised your fist and punched him straight in the nose
  • Justin tried to muffle a laugh and then protectively pulled you back to him and Alex while Bryce was distracted

  • “Did you just punch Bryce Walker?”
  • “He deserved it,”
  • “Yeah, but we should go”
  • You followed Justin and Alex to the end of the hall before you stopped

  • “Why the hell should I trust the two of you? You killed my sister!” You snapped, your emotions raging from the run in with Bryce
  • “I guess you shouldn’t,” Alex admitted, “but if you want us, you know where to find us”

  • Clay and Tony cut back into the picture, and they took you to lunch and tried to calm you down from the emotional day you’d had


Request | Requests Queue | Masterlist


So, this is what people are talking about regarding Down similar to WFH. This mash up is a more accurate one rather than the one I posted on the long rant about the comparison when Down was launched.

Well, what can we say? They have found their sound. And WFH was a hit. So, they wanna replay that this time with similar song to be a bop. After all, it’s the same writers.

Anyway, Down is still good though. I like that song. I just wish it to be a little longer. It’s not even 3 minutes =.=“

anonymous asked:

Au of gabe not dying, just leaving, and darkpercy finding him one day when he's older, and making him pay for ever hurting his mum?

  • It had been ten years since Gabe left New York 
  • he was currently living in Miami off of the money he made for doing the Barbara Walters interview 
  • he had been out fishing all day with some of his new poker buddies and couldn’t wait to sit back in his recliner, smoke a cigar, crack a beer, and watch whatever was playing on Spike 
  • when he opened the door to his apartment he was immediately greeted by the smell of a fresh cigar 
  • he walked down the small hallway and stopped just before entering the living room 
  • the room was dark but he could see that smoke was wafting up from his recliner
  • “I never understood why you liked these, but I must admit it does give me a bit of a mafioso vibe that I dig,” a voice said calmly 
  • Gabe turned the light on just as the recliner turned towards him 
  • sitting in it was none other than a 22 year old Percy Jackson 
  • “If it isn’t the punk. What the hell are you doing here?” 
  • “It was harder to find you than I thought, Gabe. First Jersey then to Louisiana then Texas for a bit and now Miami. But that smell of yours… Gods I hate that smell,” Percy’s eyes seemed distracted for a minute and then snapped back to Gabe. “It works just as good as a trail to track with you as it does to repel monsters. But anyways, I’m getting off topic. I’m here because I think it’s time you and I have a talk. Man to man.” 
  • Gabe laughed, the way he would laugh right before launching into a tirade or after hitting Sally, “You think cause you had a growth spurt you’re a man? You’re nothing but a punk, kid! And we don’t have anything to talk about,” he said as he reached for the phone 
  • “Well, talk is actually a bit of a strong word. I’m here to hurt you.” 
  • Percy pulled something out of his pocket that looked like a metal chapstick 
  • he took the cap off and a black trident appeared in Percy’s hand 
  • it felt cold in his hand and gleamed in the dim lighting of the apartment 
  • “I’m curious, Gabe. What does this look like to you?” 
  • Gabe was frozen in a staring contest with Percy, his hand hovering over the phone, “It looks like a trident.” 
  • a wicked smile spread across Percy’s face 
  • “This trident is made of Stygian iron,” Percy said, eyes running up and down the weapon in his hand. “I got my brother to forge it for me. It is molded to my grip and feels perfectly balanced. It’s said that only deities of the Underworld and their demigod children can wield Stygian Iron but since my trip to Tartarus- you do know what Tartarus is, dontcha Gabe?” 
  • “It’s uh… it’s… it’s a sauce.” 
  • Percy’s laugh sent chills down Gabe’s spine
  • “You always were a world class idiot. It’s actually the deepest and darkest part of the Underworld.  It’s where monsters go when they die. It may very well be where you end up… Anyways, like I was saying, under normal circumstances this would be too powerful for me, but since I made it out of the pits of hell the only thing too powerful,” he said trailing off a bit, “is me.” 
  • Percy walked across the room towards Gabe slowly, using the trident as a walking stick and enjoying the panic in Gabe’s eyes 
  • every time the trident hit the hardwood floor, a vibration of fear echoed through the apartment and it was if a chill entered the air 
  • Gabe couldn’t get his body to respond to his brain’s screams to run 
  • he didn’t remember Percy’s eyes ever being this dark 
  • the trouble maker gleam was no longer there, and had been replaced with something much more… murderous 
  • Percy now stood an arms length away from Gabe, the tip of the trident held against Gabe’s chest 
  • “Wanna know the really great thing about Stygian Iron, Smelly Gabe?” 
  • Percy pressed a little harder and carved an “S” into Gabe’s chest 
  • Gabe jumped back and put his hand to his chest where he felt the trickle of warm blood
  • he looked into Percy’s eyes and saw nothing but hatred 
  • “It harms mortals just as much as it does monsters” 
How to tell if that new DID/RA survivor friend of yours might be manipulating you.

I’ve seen a lot of muckraking happen in the DID community surrounding one or two individuals who have been called out on their abusive behavior. I’d like to just say “thank you, everyone who has worked hard to document the abuse these individuals have committed against the community,” but I can’t. Not entirely, anyway. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad people are brave enough to speak out. That said, I think we need to address this issue from another angle as well. 

When I first saw people sharing screenshots of abusive and/or manipulating things that the original sprite-wings did, I was hopeful that the conversation would broaden and people would start to take a hard look at who becomes popular in the survivor world and why. I was hopeful that the Kimi situation would launch thoughtful discussions about the fact that there are actually a lot of abusers online who pretend to be survivors. There are also a lot of people who technically are survivors but who are not “on our side.” This is especially true in the ritual abuse survivor community, where some survivors may still be cult-loyal or even running “errands” for active cult members.

I was *badly* abused by a popular RA survivor a few years ago, and sadly I don’t have screenshots. I don’t even know the full extent of what happened thanks to whatever method they were using to make me forget things. This happened to me long before I had ever heard of sprite-wings. Getting rid of individual abusers in communities is a positive step to take, but considering how much harm these abusers can cause, I really think we need to talk about the warning signs. What kinds of things did people notice about sprite-wings before programming triggers were hit off and screenshots were published? What signs can we look for in the future to keep ourselves and our communities safe?

I have some ideas.

If you are trying to evaluate whether or not a new friend in the survivor world is safe, ask yourself these questions:

1.      Did you feel like there was something “oddly familiar” about this new friend or like you had known him forever when you met? Did you feel more in-need of his approval or more desperate for his compliments than you ordinarily would be with a virtual stranger? If you are an RA survivor, be wary of people who feel “so familiar.” It’s possible you just made a fast connection or have a lot in common, but it’s also possible that the person is familiar for a reason – either you actually have met him before, or he’s emulating the behavior of an abuser you don’t fully remember. Be careful with sudden, unexplained familiarity.

2.      Does this person seem unusually fixated on you in spite of the fact that you just met and she has tons of friends already? Does she say things like “you’re the only one that gets me” or “you’re the first person who has ever really cared about me” even though she has 150+ followers who she seems to really enjoy talking to?

3.      Did/does their trauma have a shocking amount in common with trauma you’ve blogged about or shared on forums – down to the abuser’s hair colors, specific abuse dynamics, age ranges, alters created from it, etc?

4.      Does his DID system bear an uncanny resemblance to yours? Is it common for him to copy parts of your system by “suddenly remembering” or “suddenly discovering” new alters every time you introduce one of yours?

5.      Is she constantly revising her trauma story every time you share new information about yours? Did she suddenly grow a ritual abuse history the second you said you went through ritual abuse? Note: Sometimes being around other survivors can trigger memories to the surface, but abusers/manipulators, particularly those who copy other people, tend to go through this every time anyone says anything about their own abuse.

6.      Do her details seem a bit “all over the place?” Is it common to hear her say she was held hostage all through 2005 only to get on Facebook later and share fun vacation photos from that very same year?

7.      Is she constantly playing “hot potato” with the abuser label? Did she come to you in tears three weeks ago, claiming that your mutual friend Karen was an abuser only to change her mind the next week and insist that your mutual friend George manipulated her into believing Karen was an abuser only to change her mind yet again this week to suggest that she was “just upset” when she said all those things and none of them are/were true, then take that back and claim that your mutual friend Sarah is the true abuser, then take that back and accuse you of being an abuser?

8.      Does he fluctuate between candidly giving these intensely triggering, photorealistic details of his trauma and becoming suspiciously “foggy” on details whenever you notice logical inconsistencies in his story?  

9.      Does her story ever feel like a patchwork compilation of everyone else’s stories? Does she have a practical clone of your friend Karen’s trafficker, a system that’s nearly identical to your friend Rob’s system, and the same high school experience as your friend David?

10.  Does she seem to have no emotional connection to anything she’s talking about? Does it sometimes seem like as long as it gets her a lot of comments and “likes,” it doesn’t even matter to her if the words she’s writing are true or not?

11.  Does he frequently “accidentally trigger you? When he found out you were triggered by soap, did he randomly reblog 800 pictures of soap and claim you never told him that was one of your triggers or that he figured it wasn’t a serious trigger? Does he constantly post other people’s programming cues and then try to claim that that’s his way of “processing” something that happened to him?

12.  Was he a whole hell of a lot nicer and easier to get along with when you met him than he is now?

13.  Has at least one person told you that you need to seriously re-evaluate your friendship with your new friend or suggested to you that your new friend is an abuser/manipulative/deceitful/belongs in jail/etc?

14.  Do they tend to only talk about aspects of their trauma that are “en vogue” at the moment? Do they seem magically capable of only ever needing to “process” the same things that everyone else in your group of friends is processing so that their needs will always be compatible with the group’s, making it impossible for anyone to ever ignore them or miss one of their posts? 

15.   Does this person frequently make excuses for a “good abuser,” a cult member who has “changed” and should not be judged, a “kind” programmer, etc? Does this person expect you to feel comfortable spending time with or hearing positive things about their incestuous mother simply because she “sort of apologized,” their abusive ex who “changed,” or the person who trafficked them but “has a good heart?” Does it seem like your new friend barely knows the difference between a good person and an abuser? Is your new friend seemingly unaware that there’s even a problem with this way of thinking? 

Edit/Note: Many survivors deal with feelings of loyalty to abusers, and many survivors who *don’t* feel this way have at least one system member who does. The difference tends to be that survivors make “special exceptions” for their own abusers that they would never make for other abusers in general (ie: “it’s wrong to hit your kids, but MY dad had a good reason’ I’m sure none of your dads did though”), whereas the abusive DID community member will sometimes 100% acknowledge that a person is an abuser but then talk about how that doesn’t take away from how funny, cool, attractive, cuddly, kind-hearted, wonderful, etc their abuser is. Frequently, these “devotional” statements are made right after you’ve said something about not wanting to forgive your own abuser or having recently stood up to/reported/cut off your abuser. It’s meant as manipulation/guilt-tripping in a way. 

16.  Does this friend seem like he’s in a constant one-uppmanship battle trying to prove he’s the most damaged survivor on the planet?

17.  Is this person manipulating you into letting them stay at your house?

18.  Does this person or one of this person’s alters have a porn blog full of sadistic imagery that they constantly share with people without bothering to trigger warn or without adequately warning them that it’s a violent porn blog?

19.  Does this person ask for tons of details about your story but then never really respond when you share them? This is a particularly bad sign if you’re an RA survivor or anyone whose abusers might want “reports” on what you do and don’t remember. Avoid sharing your entire story with people who have not earned your trust.

20.  Does this person try to convince you that your friends are actually abusers when there’s not really a good reason to do so?  

This is not a complete list and these items may not mean someone is an abuser on their own. However, they should all raise red flags.

slightlyintimidating  asked:

Berena and 17

Thankyou for the ask Sev! I enjoyed writing this, though apologies- I am a little rusty! (Also I’m on mobile so I can’t do the little “read more” thingy 😭 apologies for that too). It’s actually based on one of my own holidays to Ashover in Derbyshire in 2015. It’s a beautiful place, I highly recommend it!
“Ugh, why did I eat that?”

“Ugh, why did I eat that?!” Serena groaned, pushing her chair away from the table and sighing, rubbing her now slightly sore stomach with regret. “There must have been at least 600 calories in that tiramisu. 700 if you count the little chocolate wafer that came with it.”
“You chose Italian.” Bernie shrugged, watching Serena over her wine glass. “I warned you their desserts were to die for.”
“And I’m starting to think I should have bloody well listened to you.” The brunette muttered, taking a gulp of her wine and wincing, straightening her body. “I’m glad we didn’t come by car now, driving back on this cobbled street would have created some impressive spontaneous vomiting.”
“Not in my car it wouldn’t.” Bernie raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly. “It still has the faint aroma of regurgitated ice cream from when we went to the diner on Holloway Avenue.”
“Oh good Lord do be quiet.” Serena groaned again. “Or there will be a repeat of that event imminently.”
Bernie smirked as she finished off her wine, thinking back to their third date when she’d taken Serena to her favourite American diner in nearby Keaton-on-Sea. Her partner had gone a little over the top at the all-you-could-eat dessert bar after spotting they had rocky road ice cream… Safe to say Bernie’s car had never been the same since that immovable brown patch in the passenger’s footwell had appeared.
After the young waitress came over to give them their bill, the couple gathered up their things and began the slow, winding walk back to their holiday cottage. It was a clear, crisp August night, with a sea of stars overhead to keep them company as they wandered slowly over the hill tops towards the small village of Ashover. In the distance the sun was setting, sending ebbs of sweet purples and rich blues into the ever approaching darkness; painting the night as nature saw fit. They slowed as they reached the top of a rather steep hill, partly to take in the incredible views, but mostly to catch their breaths before they both collapsed.
Serena tucked her arm under Bernie’s and sighed softly, resting her head against the trauma surgeon’s warm cream coat.
“I never want this holiday to end.” She whispered, watching her breath curl and glide away before her, disappearing into the night. Bernie kissed the top of Serena’s head, her mouth twitching as a stray hair tickled her nose.
“Me neither. But unfortunately-”
“-I know I know, it must because we’re doctors, and the hospital needs us, etc etc.” The brunette interrupted, a slight hint of dissatisfaction in her voice. Bernie blinked in surprise.
“Um, well I was actually going to say that I don’t think our bathroom scales would thank us if we went on a never ending holiday. Neither would Jason, come to think of it.”
“Those…are very good points.” Serena raised her eyebrows. “That tiramisu will have me feeling full until we go home, there was so much of it. Who eats portions that size anyway?”
“Well you, evidently. And in good time too.” Bernie grinned, watching Serena break away from her arm and face her.
“It’s a good job I love you Berenice Wolfe, because you can be a cheeky bugger sometimes.”
“And it’s a good job I love you Serena Campbell, because if one of my troop had said that to me I would have drop kicked them on the spot.”
“Ha! I’d love to see you try that!” Serena exclaimed, before squealing as Bernie launched herself forwards and grabbed her partner by the waist.
“Stop! Stop you’ll make me throw up! Bernie! Bernie!” Her voice was high pitched with excitable panic, as the woman squirmed and wriggled beneath her lover’s grasp until Bernie finally relented. She looked down into Serena’s eyes, bright and beautiful from the reflection of the moonlight, and she watched them close as she leaned in to kiss her.
“I love you so much.” Bernie whispered into her ear, breathless but overwhelmingly happy.
“I love you too.” Serena whispered back, planting one last kiss on Bernie’s lips before she intertwined their fingers and the couple carried on walking back to their cottage.

Amortentia ~ Fremione

‘Hey Hermione are- Wait you smell…really nice,’ Ginny sniffed Hermione’s neck, ‘Oh god, like musk and… and like Har-,’ she cut off and looked to the floor, ‘ You just smell different!’ the girl blushed wildly and finished in a rushed whisper.

Hermione sank further back into her chair, letting a sigh pass her lips,’ I thought it would be gone by now! After four showers!’

‘What should be gone?’

‘Gin, I spilt Amortentia on myself today in Potions, that why I smell like Harr-’

But before the curly haired girl could finish, Ginny had launched herself at her, hands forcing their way over her mouth, muffling Hermione’s voice,’ Okay! Okay! Shut up, I don’t need anyone knowing that I…I,’

‘That you’re infatuated with Harry?’ Ginny shot Hermione a dark look before nodding silently, Hermione carried on, ‘ Doesn’t matter anyway, everyone knows…well everyone but Harry, it’s quite ironic is it not? That he is the-.’

Hermione felt her words dry up in her throat at the look she received from the other girl and dropped her head back down to her book. She felt Ginny stir restlessly next to her and it was beginning to agitate her, Hermione just wanted to relax for a while, after the hectic day she had just experienced.

Turns out that spilling Amortentia on yourself wasn’t exactly fun!

In fact the complete opposite and Hermione began to  wonder why someone would create such a potion! Having clans of teenagers chase after you, or crowd around you, all sniffing you like a dog would to a scrap of meat, wasn’t something Hermione revelled in, the only attention she wanted was for getting top marks in all her classes, not that she smelt like what they desired!

After a couple of minutes of silently battling against Ginny, Hermione closed her book and rose to her feet.

‘Look Gin, I’m going to go somewhere else until this wears off or something,’ she sighed, placing the book under her arm and left the dormitory, attempting to avoid as many people as possible, which was slightly hard considering the fact that Hogwarts accommodated just   over nine hundred students.

Eventually, after loosing a group of fourth years, Hermione hurried her way to the Library. She would have preferred a nice sofa to sit upon, to comfort her aching back, but considering the situation she was in, she was just going to have to settle for a hard, wooden chair within the Library. She wound her way through the rows of bookshelves, putting as much distance between her and the entrance as possible.

She ended up near the back of the room, somewhere she’d never been and the girl glanced at the collection of books surrounding her, all unread. Her fingers twitched, so gently, to stop the movement, she ran them along the spines of all the novels, eager to pull them all from their rows and begin to devour their knowledge.

Just as she wrapped a nimble finger around the spine of a dark, old book, someone behind her cleared their throat, intruding on her privacy. Startled at the sudden and loud noise, Hermione dropped the book she was holding and it fell to the floor with a dull thud! Hermione spun, prepared to angrily hiss at her intruder, but was shocked to see the red haired boy in front of her.

He was the very last person she would ever expect to see in a Library. Hermione had thought for years that if he were to ever step within one, the whole place would explode in flames and crumble and fall.

‘Hullo Granger,’ Fred Weasley grinned bashfully at her, his hair ruffled and messy, ‘Fancy seeing you here,’

Hermione rolled her eyes and reached for her fallen books, the last thing she wanted…no needed right now was being mocked by one of the Weasley twins. Especially Fred, who seemed to have a knack for making Hermione’s heart flutter.

‘Not now Fred…seriously, I’ve had a terrible day and…No! Don’t come any closer!’ Hermione rushed, her cheeks flaming. She really didn’t fancy knowing what Fred desired scent was, nor how he would act when he got a whiff of it.

But the Twin’s grin only grew, ‘ ‘Mione, if I don’t obey rules, what makes you think I’ll listen to you…but since you pleaded, not the first girl to plead at me for something if I do say, I’ll stay here,’ he winked and pressed his back against a shelf. Hermione scoffed at his confidence which never seemed to end.

‘Say,’ Fred began,’ I never said that I was Fred, how did you know it was me?’

Hermione’s cheeks couldn’t get any redder. The thing was, Hermione was one of the few people that were able to tell the Twins apart. Fred was slightly more handsome, his hair somewhat darker than George’s, his freckles were more gathered and he had a faint scar right above his lip from a prank that went wrong…but what gave him away the most was the way he spoke to Hermione.

George’s voice would remain the same. Joking and mischievous. But Fred’s…it would lose the put on charm and danger and become huskier, deeper and it would send shivers down Hermione’s spine. She wished he would talk like that all the time, but it only ever went like when they were alone and Hermione was convinced he only did it to annoy her.

She’d almost forgotten she hadn’t answered his question and blurted, ‘You have subtle differences,’


‘Yeah, most would miss them because they…,’ Hermione stopped, trembling.

‘If I am correct, and of course, if I am not, please do tell me I’m wrong,’ Fred smirked, straightening up, ‘But subtle means small, almost unnoticeable, so one would,’ he paused, approaching slowly,’ so one would have to study me to notice these differences,’

Hermione crept back slowly,’ Don’t flatter yourself Fredrick Weasley! The world doesn’t revolve around you!’

‘ Then how did you notice them then?’

‘I..I..I’ve known you for many years, it makes sense that I’d pick up on them!’ but when the words left her mouth, the whole statement sounded more like a question and Hermione mentally kicked herself. It was times like this she wished she was in Slytherin, so she could be a convincing liar!

It seemed that Fred has also picked up on her uncertainty and through his head back, laughing, ‘ ‘Mione, even my mother struggles to know who’s who,’


‘Well…I am the brightest witch of our age, I’m bound to know. Wait, that sounds like I’m insulting Molly, I am not, I’m sure Mrs Weasley is intelligent and smart, I was simply trying to-’ her ramble was cut short by a wave of Fred’s hand.

‘No offence, but shut up,’ he whispered, ‘We are in a Library after all, you have to be quiet, I’d thought you of all people would know that!’

Hermione licked her suddenly dry lips,’ What are you doing in a Library, its a sight for sore eyes,’

‘I do visit this place often…but secretly, can’t have my reputation being damaged,’

‘Oh no,’ Hermione mocked, grinning.

‘Yes oh no!’ Fred smirked,’ What would all my fan girls think if they knew that I, Fred Weasley, the hot, brave, prankster, was a visitor to the Library?’

‘That you cared for your education,’

‘Ah but that’s the thing…I don’t’ he smiled and came closer. Hermione tried to move, but she stuck between a bookshelf and Fred. Merlin, she thought.

‘Please, Fred, I’m serious, stay there  and don’t come any closer or smell me or anything, hold your nose or something,’ Hermione babbled, pressing herself roughly against the wood behind her, wishing she could sink into it.

But one glance into Fred’s eyes told her he wasn’t going to listen to her. His irises pulsed with a mischievous glint as he tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. Of all the times he’d made Hermione flustered, this was most confusing so far.

‘Have you been spending too much time with Ron and his smell has started to rub off on you,’ Fred joked,’Because that would be terrible,’

‘No! Don’t be absurd and Ron doesn’t smell tha-,’

But before Hermione could finish her sentence, Fred took a long stride and was standing right in front of her. Her nose was almost brushing off of his chest and he could feel her warm breath. Hermione groaned inwardly, not prepared for what was going to happen next.

‘Nope, I was wrong, you don’t smell any different,’

Hermione felt her mouth drop open and her heart explode against her rib cage. Doesn’t smell any different…but that..thats. Amortentia was the strongest Love Potion, there’s no way Fred could be ignoring it. So that means…

‘Hermione, close your mouth, you’ll catch flies,’ Fred laughed, his fingers grazing Hermione’s cheeks,making her heart beat dangerously irregular.

‘F-Fred…I,’ she stopped and gulped, looking into his dark brown eyes and drowning in their intensity,’ Today in Potions I…I spilt Amortentia all over myself and…’

Fred tensed up,’ What? Amortentia…’

‘Its a love potion and-’

‘I know what it is ‘Mione,’ he snapped and then sighed,’Sorry…I just, I didn’t really expect… to tell you like this,’ he ended in a light chuckle.

The whole Library seemed to fade away, all the colours merging into each other and all that Hermione’s eyes could latch themselves upon were Fred. The way his trimmed hair skimmed his eyebrows, the way his eyes seemed to bore into her soul, making her feel exposed. How broad and muscular his shoulders were, how he smelt of woods and smoke. How her body hummed to be closer to his.

Hermione felt herself tremble under his gaze, her legs threatening to give way. Fred sighed, a small, shy smile on his lips as he cupped her cheeks, thumbs brushing against her skin, sending tingles throughout her body. She leaned into him.

‘Gra-No, Hermione, I…there’s so many things I wanna…But I can’t and it’s hard to and,’ Fred stop abruptly and swooped down. His lips pressed against Hermione’s lips and she froze but after a few seconds, she moved hers against his.

She’d been kissed once before by Krum, but his kiss was wet and rushed and rough, nothing like this. Fred’s touch was soft, his lips soothing over hers and moved slowly with passion that  drew a moan out of her. At the sound, Fred grinned and pulled Hermione closer, dropping his hands from her cheeks to her waist. They only brought apart for air and when they did, Hermione rested her head against Fred’s chest.

He chuckled,’ What I meant to say was…that I like you,’

‘Really? I didn’t know,’

‘Don’t mock me! That was a hard thing to do!’

Hermione smiled, ‘Well I’m glad you told me because I guess I like you,’

‘You guess?’

‘Fine,’ she laughed, looking up at him,’ Fred Weasley, I, Hermione Granger, like you,’

If Fred’s grin could get any bigger, Hermione would have been scared. He reached for her hand and gave it a little squeeze.

‘The bookworm and the prankster,’ he said,’ An unlikely pair,’ Hermione nodded and Fred leaned down again, pressing a chaste kiss to her swollen lips,’You smell amazing by the way,’

Episode 84, part 2: it’s all gone wrong for the Bakurae

(part 1 is here)


But Bakura’s smug boyfriend has an idea…

For the last time, young man, you don’t HAVE sleeves.

Someone new comes out on deck and the first person to notice is…



Somehow the Puzzle notices before anyone else. And somehow it notifies Yami–

–who cuts himself off mid-word from declaring his attack and winning the duel, and despite having his back to the door, becomes the second person/entity to notice the arrival of Definitely Malik Please Don’t Ask Questions

Probably a good thing it takes the others a moment to notice because Definitely Malik is not a popular guy

Otogi bravely sacrifies his handsomeness to prevent Jounouchi attacking him. 

And even Mokuba complains.

Come on, kid, Seto ARRIVED BY HELICOPTER to interrupt Yami’s duel earlier and Definitely Malik hasn’t even SAID anything yet!

In fact, the only one who’s pleased to see him is Definitely Not Malik, which isn’t suspicious at all but luckily no one’s paying attention to him.

Come on, you’re not even TRYING to look surprised!!

Anyway, Definitely Malik proclaims that it is, in fact, HE who is in control. 

Yami calls bullshit, as is only reasonable.

“I’m sure there’s a limit to the number of people who can be in control of one body at one time. right??”

So Malik’s getting Rishid to pretend that Rishid, as Malik, is controlling Yami Bakura to possess Ryou Bakura. Meanwhile Malik convinces Yami Bakura to relinquish control of Ryou Bakura, leaving Ryou actually in charge for perhaps the first time in days.

oh dear #itsallgonewrongforBakura


So either. Ryou’s been totally walled out of his own body since BEFORE Bakura met Malik and immediately and unnecessarily stabbed himself. OR. Ryou is playing up Poor Wounded Helpless Ryou Is Totally Innocent, for either Bakura’s benefit or his own. 


ANYWAY, everyone agrees that an attack from Osiris the Heavenly Gay Dragon would certainly knock Ryou out and maybe kill him.

Lies successfully lied, Rishid heads off, probably because he has no interest in cardgames, which honestly makes him the most tragic character on the whole damn show.

… I get the STRONG feeling that Rishid writes poetry about how sad he is that his younger brother is such a fucking megalomaniac and how much he hates it in Japan and how tedious cardgames are.

Back in the duel, Yami’s first instinct is to leave his place and go to Ryou, but Isono stops him because he’s decided the tournament should have at least one rule actually enforced and for some fucking reason, he’s landed on this one.

Buddy, Yami summoned a LITERAL GOD who has, as far as I can tell, a TANGIBLE FORM and has wrapped itself around the damn blimp. I understand it’s harder to enforce “no using arcane rituals for the purpose of bending the nature of reality itself to gain an advantage in the match” than it is to enforce “no touching”, but REALLY.

Kaiba is horrified. Not that Yami would break a rule, obviously.

He’s indignant that Yami would hesitate to launch a potentially fatal attack to win a duel, which is PRETTY FUCKING RICH coming from Mr I’m Only Alive Because Yugi Prevented Yami From Launching A Potentially Fatal Attack To Win A Duel. 

“oh, so you’re willing to be complicit in my suicide when someone else’s life is at stake but you won’t immediately willfully murder an innocent bystander to win a quarter-final match? fucking wimp”

Meanwhile, Jounouchi attempts to calmly reason with Isono…


and Bakura compliments Malik on a scheme well schemed…


ahem anyway, immediately after complimenting him, Bakura goes “but nah”

… honestly I strongly suspect “ways I hate to win” is more likely to encompass “with Malik’s help” than it is “by risking Ryou’s life/health”, coming from Mr Unnecessarily Stabbed Himself Earlier Today.

So he takes back over and concedes

Yami looks stricken because it’s such an out-of-character thing to say that he suspects a terrible trap, I presume. Luckily, Bakura quickly gets back on message…

okay honey sure

Duel over, Yami rushes to help Ryou, and the others follow. 

PLEASE NOTE THE MILLENNIUM RING IN THE TOP LEFT CORNER. It does not mystically vanish, it literally just gets blown off by the attack.

Honda takes Ryou back to his room, for want of actual medical care (even though I KNOW there’s at least one doctor on this fucking blimp but the Nerd Herd don’t know that yet and NO ONE TELLS THEM, KAIBA)

Yami lingers for a moment.


He starts to get all philosophical…

In terms of protecting his host, he says, but presumably he’s also wondering about their similarities more generally. Yami Bakura is the only other ghost he’s met and it’s not like their interactions have been very successful. But Yugi’s here to make him feel better…

Yugi reassures Yami and tells him that he inspires him to become a stronger person.

Yami’s face LIGHTS UP when Yugi says this, it’s SO CUTE, he’s got that serious furrowed brow right until this line and then he just beams at him, it’s fucking adorable #puzzlefeels

Yugi says he isn’t able to do much right now, but he is able to take over to give Yami a break and that Yami must need one after his intense duel.

AHHHHH <3 #puzzlefeels


So Yugi takes over and immediately smacks down Isono, who’s pointed out that Yugi is entitled to Bakura’s rarest card / a card from Bakura’s deck / something something this rule was never properly defined.

I love firm/angry Yugi! We don’t see enough of him!


Oh honey. Every part of that sentence is wrong.

… And that one.

The Nerd Herd discuss the match by Ryou’s bedside.


And only when they’re about to leave, to ask Kaiba if they can land briefly to deposit Ryou in a hospital, does Yugi notice…

The Millennium Ring. No one stopped to pick it up.


Or did it mystically vanish and reappear for Anzu to pull it from her pocketless outfit? Who fuckin knows. #justYGOthings

~ sparklefists watches ygo is brought to you by @k-for-days, @hiramiyugioh, SK, KM, ER and KF via patreon! ~

sexual food goo mess

Request: Hi there! I was wondering… Those Voltron prompts… can you do 26 with Hunk and a female s/o, please? Thank you if you write this!

Prompt: “If you’re gonna be true to your word… you better fuck me hard on this kitchen table right now. I don’t care if there is food goo everywhere.”

A/N: This is a smutty one of course. The anon who requested this one seemed quite nervous about it and honestly, honey, don’t be! Firstly, you’re on anon so it’s fine and even if you requested with your username I would be fine with you requesting for this, dw! Anyway, hope you like it!

Originally posted by genderfluidlanceespinosa

It all started out innocently enough…and then Hunk kinda sorta…came onto you. Or you came onto him, you kinda both launched yourselves at each other at the same time, you couldn’t tell which. Either way, it all started with the food goo machine breaking…

*Earlier that day*

Walking into the kitchen after a very peaceful and well-rested sleep, you stepped into the room only to find Hunk there, eating some food goo from what looked like a cereal bowl. You gulped heavily, Hunk Garrett was the guy you had had a crush on since middle school. Yeah…MIDDLE SCHOOL. That means going through middle school, getting into the garrison thinking you had had it easy, getting away from the guy that had captured your heart, oh so easily. But apparently not, because Hunk’s few hidden talents apparently involved in being good at repairing things…so he became an official galaxy garrison mechanic…repair technician person. You didn’t know the technical term.

Anyway, you had become the team’s co-pilot, so when you found out Hunk was with Lance on their team; you almost had a freaking heart attack, as soon as you stepped into that room, Hunk was sat there, fiddling with a piece of metal and when his eyes met yours, he physically lit up. To say you were SHOOK was an understatement. You actually fell over. Hunk jumped out of his chair and stumbled over to help you get up and off of your face. Upon seeing you wearing a co-pilot badge, his face lit up even more, if that were even physically possible for him to do. But you just fell for him twice as hard as you did in middle school. Hunk Garrett had been cute in middle school but after the summer between middle and high school…oh my god, puberty hit him like a truck in your perspective. He was drop dead gorgeous.

“Oh, hi Hunk!” You said, trying not to blush too much as your whole body shot up straight from the shock. When your whole group at the garrison got stuck into Voltron’s business, you didn’t mean to be there so when you got onto the blue lion, you didn’t know you wouldn’t be coming back for a very, very…long time. “Hey Y/N…” He said in a bit of a glum way. “What’s the matter?” Your flustered expression got replaced with a sad one as you realised that Hunk wasn’t feeling as happy as he always was.

“The food goo machine’s broken again, that’s all.” He tried to say as non-chalantly as possible, but you could still see the hint of sadness in his eyes. You knew how much food meant to him, especially after you guys left earth and couldn’t get back in touch with your home-world’s culinary culture anymore. “I could try and fix it?” You offered, stars in your eyes as you tried to save your friend’s happiness. “Y/N…you don’t have to, it’s clearly broken.” Hunk gestured to the machine with a dejected sigh. He was right…there was food goo leaking out of it, he had even tied the dispenser’s hose-like contraption into a knot so it wouldn’t leak out anywhere else. It looked like it was on the verge of exploding at any moment. To be honest…you didn’t even know why Hunk was in here if it was gonna implode any moment now.

“Well…not before I’m through with it.” You rolled your sleeves up jokingly as you wandered over to the threatening apocalypse, called the food goo machine that was supposed to provide you with breakfast that very fateful morning. “Y/N, I wouldn’t!” Hunk yelled over at you, trying to stop you before you untied the hose to start. Sending food goo spurting out everywhere, all over you and your freshly clean clothes and all over the floor around you. “SHITTING ON A SUNDAY!!” You yelled before hitting the floor and sliding right into Hunk’s legs, knocking him down on top of you as the food goo continued to pour on top of the two of you.

“Holy shit…” He breathed heavily as he got up, looking down at you as he leaned over you, his arms next to your neck as he put all his weight onto the palms of his hands. “Holy shit indeed…” You breathed back, letting out a sigh of relief before you opened your eyes to look up into Hunk’s starry ones. “Oh my god…” You sighed dreamily as he stared right into your soul. “Have your eyes…always been this deep and beautiful?” Hunk asked with a surprisingly deep voice as he rested one of his hands on your cheek, you staying perfectly still underneath him amongst all the now-spoiled food goo.

As he began to stroke your cheek, your cheeks grew continuously warmer and warmer. “Hunk?” You stared back into his eyes, hoping that he could somehow sense how uncomfortably comfortable you felt in that moment. “yeah?” he looked back into your eyes, his own cheeks catching the light pink colour as he noticed how heavily you were blushing. “I think…I think I love you.” It just came out, but you meant it so damn much. “I…I love you too…Y/N.” He whispered as he lowered himself closer to your lips, ghosting over them as he realised how much you cared about him and he, you. “Oh my god Hunk.” You hurriedly covered your face with your hands, trying to hide the love struck expression on your face as you realised that after all this damn time, he felt the same way about you.

“What? What is it? Did I do something wrong?” He got up in a rush, scared that he had actually overstepped his boundaries. “NO! no, god no. It was perfect.” You looked at him with that same star-struck expression in your eyes. “R-r-really?!” He gulped nervously, not really knowing what to do with his nervous hands now that they weren’t around you. “I care about you a whole lot…since middle school?” You offered, not knowing how he would react. “WHAAAAAAAT?!” His whole face lost colour at this thought, that you had been waiting this long to own up to your feelings for him.

“yeah…I know it’s stupid.” You laughed, hoping he couldn’t see the nervous tears in your eyes as you started to cry a little. “No, Y/N, no…I think it’s beautiful…you’re beautiful!” He gushed as he leaned over to you, slipping slightly in the food goo as he fell onto you. Or more precisely his lips fell onto yours. “Holy crap! Y/N, I’m sorry!” He yelled. But you just remained perfectly still, stars multiplying in your eyes as a stupid lovey dovey grin grew bigger and bigger on your face. You suddenly and unexpectedly launched yourself onto Hunk, sending you both slipping and sliding in the mess of food goo.

“I love you so much!” You grinned as your noses bumped into each-other. Hunk just stared back at you with the same amount of love in his eyes, refusing to let you go as he wrapped his arms around your waist for support as you both got up. But it didn’t stop there…Hunk placed you on the counter so he could start wiping the food goo off of you with a nearby wash-cloth. He started by flicking random pieces of it off of your shirt and then he wiped around your collar bone and neck, building himself the courage to face you as he started to wipe away at your cheeks, pulling bits of it out of your hair as he began to wipe at your mouth.

But as you bit your lip nervously, you made it kinda hard for him, so instead of continuing to clean it, he caught your bottom lip in-between his two, licking it tentatively as he licked the food goo residue away. You yelped as he pulled away with your lip still in-between his teeth, only letting go after winking at you as seductively as he could, even though he was a blushing mess afterwards. Not quite kissing you…but not quite, not at the same time. Blushing like some sort of love-crazed maniac, you pulled Hunk’s face towards yours with a needy grunt, smashing your lips onto his. He sighed lovingly into your mouth as you slipped your tongue into his mouth, not waiting to ask for entrance as you tasted the food goo in his mouth. Not stopping when your stomach rumbles, making Hunk’s eyes shoot open at the hungry sound.

“Are you okay?” He asked, pulling his lips inches away from your swollen mouth. “Yeah, just keep kissing me and I’ll be fine.” You sighed needily whilst wrapping your arms around his neck, shivering under his touch as he wrapped his arms around your waist and upper body. “I want you Hunk.” This was getting slightly out of hand now. You had no idea how many times you had to pleasure yourself at night when you got horny for no good reason, thinking about Hunk as your only distraction from the fact you had no other willing participants since they were all either back on earth or aliens who you were too awkward around to even talk to.

“W-w-what?! Y-y-y/n? Do you have any i-i-idea what you are saying right n-n-now?!” He continued to stutter nervously as you let your hands wander up and down his surprisingly muscly chest. “Uh huh…I want you right here, right now, on this table.” You sighed as you rested your chest on his, showing off your cleavage. After glancing down at your chest for a brief moment, Hunk looked up at you with nervous eyes and a palpitating heart. “Oh god, you’re too hot to say no to.” He sighed, clearly aggravated as he kissed you hungrily.

You leaned away from him for a moment before lifting your arms up, letting Hunk rip your shirt off of you easily. “God…I uh…I don’t know what to say…” Hunk whispered, the blush growing bigger and bigger on his cheeks as he stared down at your bare chest, your push up bra only inches away from his hands. Which he was wringing nervously as he stared at your boobs without an ounce of regret. Just shut up and if you’re gonna be true to your word… you better fuck me hard on this kitchen table right now. I don’t care if there is food goo everywhere.” You tried to say as seductively as you could, slinging yourself on Hunk as you tugged at his t-shirt, wanting to see what he was hiding underneath. Hunk’s eyes dilated as he leaned toward you ear to nibble on its lobe. “Talk dirty to me, princess.” Hunk muttered as he waited for you to rip his shirt off of him like he had done to yours’ moments before.

“Fuck me hard, Hunk Garrett.” You breathed into his ear wantonly. With an animalistic growl, Hunk slammed your back onto the table as he crawled on top of you, pulling the button on your jeans undone as he started to pepper your neck in sweet, open-mouthed butterfly kisses. He was acting like a beast, but you loved how he acted with you…so gentle and strangely vanilla. But he tasted like candy, you could tell. The luscious dark tan of his skin pleased you in ways you couldn’t understand, but you loved him regardless of what his skin color was. “I love you Y/N Y/L/N.” He declared as he looked up at you with eager eyes, oblivious to the pure want you had as your back arched at the feather-like kiss he pressed to your lower stomach. So close to the line of your panties. But apparently he just wanted to make sweet, sweet love to you. And you were perfectly fine with that if it meant it was going to be your first time with the love of your life.

“And…I love you- Hunk.” You gasped out as he started to tug your jeans down your slender legs. After he finished pulling them off of your ankles, watching pool around his food-goo covered feet on the floor, you watched him with half-lidded eyes as he stared at your heat for a moment. As if it were a completely foreign object to him. “Have you done this before, Hunk?” You asked him hesitantly as you didn’t want to reveal your secret of being a virgin just yet. “Uh…no. I…I’ve been waiting for the right person and…and I think that’s you, Y/N.” He breathed as he placed his lips on your one last time before he stared into your eyes for permission. Nodding, he began to pull your underwear off carefully, as if it were expensive silk and you would get burned if he weren’t careful enough. But if anything, it just turned you on even more. He was being gentle with you and that’s all you ever wanted for your first time with someone…especially if it were Hunk.

You grew nervous as he looked down at your womanhood once again, the both of you blush bright red as Hunk carefully stepped over the food goo to lock the entrance to the kitchen and make sure there were no cameras and if there were, that they were switched off so no-one had to watch this. “How do you wanna go about this?” He asked, avoiding your eyes as he looked down at his feet. “I just…want you to fuck me if that isn’t too forward for you. I wouldn’t worry Hunk…it’s my first time too.” You told him comfortingly, smiling back as he turned to make eye-contact with you, a shy grin plastered onto his face. Leaning forward slowly and tentatively, he placed his lips on yours in a gentle kiss as he crawled on top of you slightly, opening his eyes slightly to see what kind of reaction he could elicit from you. But as the he created sweet friction between your clitoris and the fabric of his pants, you let out a shameless groan. Looking him in the eyes as you bit your lip to try and suppress it. Fuck it.

Pulling his lip in between your teeth you shoved your hesitant lips into his, hoping he would get the idea that you wanted more of what he was giving you. And thank god he did. ‘Oh, boy.’ You thought as he gave you a deep seductive glare before rubbing his protruding crotch against your lips, eliciting a very obvious moan from the both of you, Hunk melded both of your lips into a kiss that could shut the both of you up in your newfound sexual bliss.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” You groaned as you started to get impatient a few moments later, that was when Hunk learned that he should never keep a lady waiting so he stepped away so he could give you a little strip tease. That was when you noticed the small Moana-like (as in the movie, the styled tattoos that is) tattoo on his hip as he took off his jeans, leaving him in his spandex underwear. All the boys on the team had them, you knew that from being a paladin of Voltron. What you didn’t know was that Hunk had a freaking tattoo! Hunk noticed your eyes lingering on that specific part of his body and he began to grow nervous. “I-I uh, it was a spur of the moment thing y’know? To…to remind me of home.” He scratched his neck as he confessed his well-kept secret to you. “Wait, so you kept this from everybody at the Garrison?” You asked, not caring if you were naked as you gestured to the door of the kitchen. “Well…yeah. I didn’t want them to freak out because of it or anything.” Hunk admitted sheepishly as he began to blush.

Reaching out for him needily, you continued to stare at the small circular tattoo as he stepped forward into your touch. Rolling the palm of your hand over his tattooed hip you uttered the words “God, that just makes you even more hot.” Under your breath, hoping Hunk wouldn’t hear. “You…You think I’m hot?” He laughed a little at the word. “Yes.” You said without an ounce of hesitation in your tone, or shame for that matter. Hunk burst into a fiery blush as he leaned down to kiss and bite softly at your collarbone again, this time you could feel the light bruises developing as he moved on to explore new parts of your body. That was until you started to tug at his underwear, rubbing him through the revealing pants. “Ugh- Y/N- Don’t.” His voice cracked slightly after each and every word and it gave you a thrill of excitement as he pushed you further onto the table. Pushing you both downwards as he hovered over you, letting you pull his underwear down.

And as you finally gazed down at his throbbing member, you grew more nervous than you believed yourself to be, and yet, you hesitantly pawed at the tip of his dick, watching him throw his head back as someone finally touched him other than himself after all his time kicking ass in space as a part of Voltron. “God-Oh my God-Y/N…” His breath hitched in the back of his throat at the end of his sentence and you could sense how hard he was. “Uh, Hunk…” you groaned in return, but before he let you do anything else to him, he froze. “Is everything alright?” You asked, concern laced in your voice despite the intimate position you two were in.

“I…uh, I don’t have a condom, on me.” He admitted sheepishly, looking down at you as if he ruined the moment. Before he could turn away to collect his discarded clothes, you turned his chin so you could face him. Fondly rubbing your fore finger and thumb into his chin, you whispered “don’t worry…I’m on the pill.” With a small smirk and a wink at the end. “Oh wow…that means we can do it, then?” He asked, nervousness laced throughout his whole being but he placed his large hands on your hips nevertheless. Giving him a brief nod, he slowly moved his hands from your hips to massage the firm muscle of your butt. Letting out a small excited shriek, you launched yourself into his arms, causing you both to erupt into fits of laughter before Hunk found himself lying on top of you again.

You both fell silent as you continued to stare into each other’s eyes, getting lost in the moment. “We’re actually going to do this…aren’t we?” he let out a small smile which melded nicely with the quiet hush of his voice. “Only if you want to is well.” You added supportively. This wasn’t exactly the most extravagant place for both of your first times. “This isn’t exactly a lover’s suite in a crazy space hotel.” Hunk let out a shy laugh. You smiled up at him, he was willing to be with you, even if it was in this mess. “You’re not going back on your promise now…are you?” You asked, referring to what you said earlier. Upon remembering, Hunk’s face erupted into a bright red once again. In the close proximity of his face being so close to yours, you couldn’t help placing your hands on the sides of his face and pulling him down to meet your lips in a sweet and tender kiss.

“I think…I think I want this just as much as you do.” Hunk lisped as soon as he broke the kiss, a big smile on both of your faces.

“Okay…but I think we’re gonna have to be quick cause I’m not sure when the guys are gonna get hungry. Also, I think Pidge knows how to hack through the kitchen’s security.”