you lived more in ten years than most do in eighty

I did it.

Put me on the list, I’m a sinner.

Irina Katsuki-Nikiforov is starting to go grey, and Yuri has no sympathy for her even though she has made a point of pulling the little silver hairs out of her head and waving them in his face.

“I’M DYING,” she screeches, always Viktor’s daughter even though she could be a Katsudon-clone.

“We’re all dying,” Otabek says into his teacup, and squints harder at the squirrel in the tree outside the window. Otabek and that squirrel have been engaged in a battle of wills for so long that it might now be Otabek and that squirrel’s grandson. “Some of us at a faster rate than others.”

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take my hand (and heart)

*click thru to read on ao3

written by: Lexi | @goldenheadfreckledheart

prompt: ‘ice skating au? either professionals or going skating for the first time’ for anonymous

word count: 3534

Bellamy’s never been ice skating before, but Clarke’s going to be there, so obviously he’s not missing it.

Ice skating, in theory, can’t be that much different than rollerblading.

And Bellamy knows how to rollerblade… he’s pretty sure. He has vague, hazy memories of wearing kneepads and a too-big helmet when he was younger, scraping his hands against the pavement before he got the hang of it. It’s one of the few things from that far back that he can still remember—before Aurora’s dependency became apparent and their lives went to… well, shit.

Anyway, he assumes it’s one of those like-riding-a-bike things you don’t ever forget. Or at least, it better be, because that’s the only thing he’s got going to convince himself that he’s not insane for agreeing to go ice skating when Raven suggested that they all go over the weekend.

It’s worth noting that no one’s stupid enough to ask if she’ll be able to skate at all, given her leg. Mostly because if you’re around Raven long enough, it becomes pretty obvious that if she says she’s going to do something, she’s going to do it. She’s probably the most badass person Bellamy knows.

But she’s not the reason that Bellamy is resolved to go ice skating when he’s technically never been before. Pretending that honor goes to anything but the fact that he’s in love with Clarke would be painfully pitiful at this point.

He’s pretty sure Raven knows. Hell, he’s pretty sure everyone knows, besides Clarke herself—though that seems overly optimistic, if he’s as obvious as he feels like he is—which at least means no one is surprised when he’s twice as invested in group hangouts when she’s involved. That doesn’t mean they don’t make fun of him. Because his friends are still assholes.

Bellamy is, overall, starting to feel like a real adult—and less like someone who’s the age of the adult but still trying to catch up with everyone around him. Less like someone who turned 18 and became a legal guardian. Not that he’s ashamed of that, but it is nice to finally feel on top of things. So theoretically he should be able to handle ice skating. Surely that’s a thing he can figure out.

He’s less sure about handling his crush on his best friend.

His phone buzzes with a text from Clarke, asking if they should plan to head to the rink together tomorrow, and he grins down at it like it might respond in kind.

His friends aren’t wrong about how pathetic he is, but that doesn’t mean they’re not still assholes.

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The summer I met David.

(warning: really really long story)

This is how I first met David. Before our relationship went to shit, and he devoted his everything to making my life hell. While there are several more stories involving him, and some far more unsettling than this one, this is when I first realized he wasn’t who he told me he was. It’s by far the most unsettling memory I have of him.

When I was young, we lived in an old farm house. I remember my father telling me that it was more than one hundred years old, and that was the cause for the strange noises in the middle of the night. I never believed him. I was convinced that the noises were just David messing around downstairs. But in those early weeks of our friendship, no one in my family believed it was him. I never bothered to question why.

My father had inherited a sixty-five acre pig farm that he and his father had built from the ground up. I can’t remember how many pigs we had, but it was enough to warrant two barns.

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Animation Terrorists - NME cover article 17 March 2001

The first Gorillaz Interview! 

Kicking out the bland, cooking up the alternative. The future is coming on and, say Gorillaz, it belongs to them

Mark Beaumont

The courier carries the package into the reception at arm’s length. Sweating profusely, he place it tentatively on the receptionist’s desk, whimpers “sign here” and runs screaming from the building. The parcel bucks wildly, rocks violently on its edges. From inside comes a muffled “Kon-nichi-wa, NOODLE!”, and suddenly two small, Japanese, completely flat legs karate-kick through each side. Two completely flat arms punch out of the bubble wrap and a completely flat Japanese girl’s head pops out of the top. With a gurgled cry of ‘Sayonara! NOODLE!”, Noodle, the youngest and coolest android guitarist in rock, jumps down from the reception desk, waddles quickly to the nearest lift and pushes the button for the 25th floor.
In the NME office all cartoon-freaked bastard hell has broke loose. 2D, the black-eyed, blue-haired pretty boy singer is spray painting ‘ZOMBIE HOP HOP’ and ‘CHRIS MARTIN SUCKS FURRY COCK’ across the office stereo. Russel, the hulking NYC hardman drummer., rummages through drawers stealing any CDs by the Wu-Tang Clan and Shakin’ Stevens. Meanwhile Murdoc, the scrag faced, green-toothed, Beezlebub-worshipping bassist with the halitosis like a badger’s scrotum, has taken over the editor’s office and is offering all female staff “some satanic slap ‘n’ tickle in me Winnebago”. Suddenly he spies a copy of NME’s ‘Popstars’ issue, howls with demonic rage and eats it.

“I think this is a perfect example of how fucking diabolical it’s getting.” He slavers. “Where you have to have a programme where you pick your own pop stars. What the fuck is going on?”
So says the warped and wicked Svengali behind Gorillaz, animation wiv additood, a vibrant alternative to boring old Realbloke Rock, the first ever cartoon band to call Bob The Builder a “cunt” and back it up with baseball bats. They’re the Technicolor Pop Blitzkreig behind the stupendous ragga-western drug ditty ‘Clint Eastwood’ and they’re here to infiltrate NME like a cartoon foot and mouth disease. See them go, spreading like wildfire between the pages, trampling in the faces of Terris, until they reach the cover where they set fire to toilet rolls and shove them under Daft Punk’s helmets. They may be two-dimensional, but Gorillaz are way more real than the shallow plastic edifices of most pop stars. With the shadowy figures of Blur’s Damon Albarn, hip-hop producer Dan The Automator and Tank Girl creator Jamie Hewlett lingering in the background they have come to drag the concept of band manufacture into the next dimension.

“This isn’t getting a bunch of 17-year-olds with pretty faces who can do backflips with big tits and making a record for them,” Murdoc sneers, pulling a dart from his pocket and throwing it at a picture of Fatboy Slim on the wall, missing and hitting 2D in the head instead. “We’ve got a bit more integrity than that”.
“I guess it’s a bit like Eminem,” 2D muses, pulling the dart from his temple, “in that we’re reflecting what’s out there anyway. I just think we’re doing it in a much more intelligent way than he could dream of doing it.”
And with that, Murdoc swings his feet onto the editor’s desk, loses his balance and falls backwards into a filing cabinet, causing a shower of objects, including three bowling balls, a cricket bat and a large anvil to fall onto his head. Three black ravens start circling his cranium.
“Wanker,” scorns 2D.
“Pair of assholes,” tuts Russel.
“NOODLE!” shouts Noodle.

Who let the Gorillaz out!?! Several freaks of fantastical fate, it transpires. While on a routine ram-raiding mission with his gang of scuzzball twat-mates two years ago, Murdoc pile-drove into the window of Uncle Norm’s Organ Emporium in Crawley, where 2D was working part-time. Russel was next on board, fresh from New York where he’d been possessed by the spirit of Del That Funkee Homosapien when Russel was the only survivor of a random and savage drive-by. Sheesh, Rus, you must have felt lucky not to get rubbed out.
Russel: “….”
Sorry. That was in bad taste. The day that their advert for a guitarist appeared in NME, a FedEx parcel arrived on Murdoc’s doorstep, ten-year-old Tamagotchi axe-toddler Noodle leapt out, having posted herself from Osaka, and Gorillaz were go! Their first gig at the legendary Camden Brownhouse started a shotgun-fuelled riot. But most contentious of all are the foggy rumours surrounding the involvement of sometime Gorillaz collaborators Damon, Dan and Jamie. The band claim that they discovered the trio sleeping rough in Leicester Square. But whispers abound that Gorillaz are simply leeching off their famous mates’ credibility.
2D shrugs. “Well it’s nice of you to say that they have any credibility in the first place.”
“When you’re old farts like them,” adds Murdoc, “completely out of ideas, you need to attach yourselves to some young talent.”
Too right, I mean that last Blur album… pffffftt, bloody hell, eh>
2D: “Well you might well have a point there…”
You must’ve thought Damon had gone completely bleedin’ barmy” Going walkabout round Mali, singing nonsense lyrics on the last single…
2D smirks. “As they said in NME, how dare he think he can get away with it!? We thought he was easy fodder, a man who’d lost his way.”
Have you saved their careers?
Murdoc: “We’ve saved Jamie’s. He was washed up. He was doing illustrations for J17 magazine! We’ve given them something interesting to get their teeth into and something to get out of bed for.”

Hmmmm, one senses that there may be a flipside to this argument…
“That story’s a load of bollocks,” says Damon emphatically, clad in baseball cap and chunky B-boy glitter in a west London studio the following day. “They came to us at a party. Me and Jamie used to live together for a while and Murdoc and 2D turned up at a party where we had Sporty Spice, Baby Spice, Pavement, a couple of members of Radiohead, Madonna. No, Madonns wasn’t there, but Kate Moss was there, Marianne Faithful, Keith Allen…”
“The funny thing was,” says Jamie Hewlett, “the following night, Damon got photographed getting some eggs, yet all fucking night the front door was open and not a single fucking journo came upstairs with a camera.”
Midway through recording his “Mali record”, Damon seems enthused and rejuvenated by his involvement with Gorillaz. He praises 2D’s simple yet profoundly impressionistic lyrics and practically speaks in tongues about the band’s forthcoming London gig (at King’s Cross Scala on March 22) claiming “it all goes into the realms of metaphysics and what is real. I won’t be there, though. I’ll be abroad. I’m going to Mongolia that week to hang out with a shaman there.”
“But because there isn’t a human face to it,” Damon continues, “it’s the abstraction which I think is groundbreaking. Hopefully we’ll inspire people to have no boundaries. It’s liberating. The whole idea of them being animated is that they can go anywhere. The only thing it’s limited by is out imagination.”
Gorillaz eponymous debut album is a kind of Frankenstein’s Furby of a record: awash with dark, apocalyptic hip-hop atmosphere and undead reggae grooves, but clashed through with an innocent streak of kindergarten pop. It’s Deltron 3030 playing conkers with ‘13’, it’s Beck punching The Clash outside a pub on Sesame Street and it’s groundbreaking indeed, not least for its rampant eclecticism.
“Coldplay are very conservative,” says Damon. “If what sets itself up as the alternative could get any more conservative than Travis, it just has. It’s melodic and it’s memorable but for all the wrong reaons. This whole stance that ‘we’re only in it for the music’ how many times does that C86 ethos have to get churned out?”
Plus the whole Gorillaz concept is a marketing department’s we dream. In an age when image manipulation has become as precise a science as nuclear fusion, real people with real human drug addictions, skin complaints and ballooning egos simply aren’t considered flawless enough to be pop stars. And real rock musicians are boring, ugly, self-obsessed, have shit hair and stink constantly of stale plectrum. So what could be better than a ready-baked bunch of freakoid mutant meta-pop stars with psycho-rebel personalities that make Oasis look like the Tweenies?
“ I think being in a famous pop band, many years down the line,” says Jamie, cryptically, “will start to restrict you from doing the sort of stuff you want to do because you’ve got to fit into some sort of mould that’s been created for you and if you’re a creative person that stops you from creating. Working with an animated band is the ideal opportunity to let go and do what you’re good at.”
Really though, Damon, this is just an excuse to get out of doing photo shoots, isn’t it?
Involuntarily, Damon gives a sly, knowing grin.
The thing about speed is, Murdoc jabbers, flakes dripping from each nostril, “if you end up being the sort of person who gets into doing cocaine when you go to parties and then you go back to doing speed, you end up saying ‘Give us eighty quid’s worth’ and you get a dirty great sugar bag full…”
Shit shovelling time. We already know about Murdoc’s chronic speed habit that kept him almost permanently blind throughout the ‘90s and his sexual desperation which will see him lunge at anything that once had a pulse in the early hours.
The there are those scurrilous rumours about 2D waking up after the Brits win bed with the three girls from Captain Caveman.
2D sneers. “They were just after the publicity.”
We recently interviewed Bob The Builder and he said of Gorillaz, “The drummer is a nice bloke, the little Asian one I haven’t met but I hear she’s alright. But that singer and that bassist, I hope they catch mildew because I fucking hate them two.” Why would he say such a thing?
2D: “That’s Noel The Builder, isn’t it?”
Murdoc: “ I think I probably shagged his girlfriend or something. Betty the Builder.”
2D: “it’s all there, mate! You wanna read it, you can! I tell you what happened, right. I shagged Noel The Builder’s brother’s girlfriend.”
Murdoc: “He’s a cunt anyway. We’re outta here.”
And with that, Murdoc kick starts a blood-red, completely flat Harley Davidson, Russel, Noodle and 2D leap on the back and they ride it straight through the 25th floor window. The bike vrooms for a few feet, then splutters dead. The band hang in the air for a few seconds, confused, until Murdoc peers downwards, cries “MOTHER FUCKAAAAAAARRRRSSSS!” and they plummet out of sight.
When Gorillaz hit the ground, Gorillaz *bounce*

About Me - Life Story Part 1

Dear tumblr,

Every few years I introduce myself in some fashion, just to keep an updated version of myself current. This year i decided to retry giving an elaborated, but still somewhat brief outline of my life story so far. I did this a few years ago, and i probably did it better back then - but i didn’t finish. And i lost half of it and the rest is on a computer i don’t really use anymore. I will write this saga in segments as to not to explode the heads of anyone who wants to read it by taking up too much time at once, or overdoing information, and it give myself time to go through the different parts. So here goes part 1.

My name is Renee Clariss Sanborn. I was born and raised in rural northern Idaho in a town called Kendrick that was ¼ meth town, ¼th Garth Brooks/hunters/trucker land, ¼th early 1900’s antiquity, and ¼ woods with no people. My house was an antique historical monument that my father bought for my mother so they could fix up based on my mother’s fantasies of fixing it up to be a place where socialites from all over the world might visit (nothing of the sort ever happened). The home even has it’s own wikipedia page – . I have two younger siblings, a brother and a sister, and two older half sisters, and 11 nieces and nephews, and two great nephews. I have a number of uncles and aunts too, but other than my grandmothers, I really have not spent a lot of time with most of them.

My father and mother met in a factory. My mom, Sandra, was very pretty and had spent most of her young life in an abusive marriage to her first husband. My father, Dave, was a failed musician, turned body builder, turned cocaine dealer. After a few years of a rocky relationship, my mother ended up getting pregnant, so my father stayed with her mostly based on that fact, and when I was three they moved us all out to Kendrick, with a population of 300 people.

My mom grew up near Couer de’ Alene Idaho to a highly sociopathic and abusive father who made her and her mom and brother’s lives hell. She also likely contracted lead poisoning since she lived for much of her time in a town called Smelterville where there has been very heavy lead poisoning due to the mines and stuff around that area. I don’t really know what my mother was like when she was young other than she tended to follow boys around, soccer, and she sewed her own clothing. She did some modeling at a college for a short period, posing nude for artists to paint, though she never did go to college herself. My grandmother didn’t like that and forced her to stop. My mom’s first boyfriend took her up to Alaska when she was seventeen while they were building pipelines. She worked as a waitress at a strip club. She had my oldest sister up there, and shortly after her boyfriend ditched her. My mother refuses to say much about this time period, but from stories I have gathered from my family, the owner of the club was also a pimp, and he raped my mother and beat her and my sister Maria, and tried to force her to be a prostitute. I don’t know the details of this situation, but when her and Maria escaped and came back to Idaho, they were both severely malnourished and bruised from head to toe.

My mom didn’t really get along with the rest of her brothers and her own mom, and was a bit of the black sheep of the family. She moved down to Lewiston Idaho with Maria when she was nineteen. My mom, being apparently clueless, married the first man she saw in the first bar she applied to be a waitress on her first day looking for work in Lewiston. He was a very rich, older abusive drunk of a man. She stayed with him as a housewife for several years throughout the eighties, had my second half sister Roxanne, and eventually after ten years of marriage, she left him. A month later, she was working at the bullet manufacturing company and she met my dad.

My mom never really has felt love for men at all. She sees them as dumb creatures who are also dangerous who can pay your bills for you if you look good enough. So, that’s how that worked out. My dad for whatever reason bought the shtick and after a few years of an on again off again relationship, and after finally having broken up permanently, was told that my mother was pregnant. Since my dad was kind of a fifties guy, he married my mom out of duty, and because he wanted to get out of disco-drug culture but didn’t know how. So my existence was what more or less gave him reason to start life anew.

My dad never really knew his father. He has one very vague memory he says, of being in a highchair and seeing his father screaming at him because he would not eat the baby food on the spoon. My father’s father, my grandfather I am told, was a very angry and abusive guy. They all lived in southern California. My grandfather Robert was a sailor, and my grandmother Betty who’s father was a member of the mafia, but we never knew who he really was (a different story for a different day), was raised by nuns and for her entire life, both chain smoked continuously, and was absolutely phobic of just about everything. For this reason, she never learned to drive. She would cry hysterically when it rained. She talked the way fifties women should talk, only she had a slightly more baby-talk way of speaking. Anyway, my grandfather was a very physically abusive man, and it’s been suggested that he was probably bipolar. But he didn’t really live long enough to figure much out. He was hit by a drunken semi driver who went in the wrong lane. And so my father and his family packed up and moved to Lewiston Idaho.

My dad grew up without a father, and so he followed his older brother Bob around, who was and is highly intelligent and also quite criminal. There was always a rivalry between him and Bob, with Bob always being jealous of Davy. This is only notable, in that it came to shape who my father was. My dad was one of those very simple 50’s boys who actually needed a father in his life. I don’t believe that all boys ‘need’ dads, and I think that can be a very outdated idea that implies that male influence is better than women’s, or that family structures have to have that patriarchy in them. But my dad longed for a male figure to look up to. Behind a lot of his attitude throughout his life, I think that underneath it all he is still trying to live up to some invisible male expectation that was never laid out for him.

In the late 60’s, my dad became one of the few kids in the town of Lewiston to be a hippie. This was a very big deal, and he got into a lot of fights for it, for having long hair. He did LSD over three hundred times before he turned 17. He became a bassist in a band that played a sort of New York Dolls style of music, though they mostly did covers. After high school they toured all over the north west and were considered quite a popular act in their day, considering the scarcity of that kind of music in the inland north west. After three or four years however, the entire band had gotten very much into drugs, and were not able to keep a tight ship. My dad has always been sort of a fool about people. He cannot tell when people are his friends, he tends to act in a way to play all his cards. He also is very extroverted, at times quarrelsome and overbearing. So they likely started to play him like a fool. My father bought most of the instruments and speakers with money he inherited when he was 18 from a trust fund set up because of his father’s death. They stole his instruments and they kicked him out of the band.

He cut his hair and at some point developed a taste for body building and Huey Lewis and the News. He applied at the local bullet factory that paid well, and after ten or so years of dealing coke and being a steroids taking self centered – and most likely totally dickish asshole, he met my mother and decided that was a good idea for whatever reason. (I apologize for my thinking that my parents relationship, and my birth were terrible ideas).

So my oldest sister Maria, who is eleven years older than me has some serious mental health problems. She displays very strong signs of Borderline Personality Disorder. I am not diagnosing her per say, but from what I have read, she really does fit all the criteria. My mom for whatever reason decided to distribute love very unevenly among her children (my mother also has some serious issues). Maria had it the worst. My mother’s first husband hated Maria and made her life a fearful hell, Maria’s own father didn’t want anything to do with her, and my father was also abusive to her. My mom would literally push Maria away when she was a child and needed a hug. This really affected Maria for the worst. She stopped going to the bathroom on the toilet, and this was when she was eight. She started lying and stealing compulsively. And my mom kept shipping Maria off to other families, other friends from work, whoever she could con into taking Maria, some of these families also being abusive. It was very clear that my mom just didn’t want Maria.

My dad came into the picture, and he being an aggressive dummy – particularly in those times, would make a habit of whipping her whenever she wet herself. This went on this way till she was twelve. Maria tried to commit suicide when she was eleven by drinking a bottle of rubbing alcohol. My mom found out, but even then, my crazily cold mother didn’t seem to care. My dad did care, but he and my mother were both horrible about this, and instead chalked all of this behavior up as just ways to get their 'attention’ as though that were something Maria didn’t deserve, and she was scolded for her suicide attempt. I honestly, for the life of me cannot understand why nobody in my family took Maria to see a mental health professional. Instead, she was further ostracized and resented until she ran off when she was fifteen.

This behavior from my mom and dad’s part really goes to show what kind of cold selfish people the two of them can be. It’s confusing because they are not always this cruel, there seems to be random bursts of care at random times. It’s hard to explain. But I have seen this side to my parents. I use this as a reference because anything I might say from personal experience is bound to be a bias interpretation. Maria’s case is clear cut abuse and I can site it to make my point when I need to.

Roxanne, my second oldest half sister had a much different life than Maria. Roxanne was very hyper and giggly. She was my mother’s pride and joy. She would go on to spoil Roxanne terribly. Buying her whatever she wanted on a whim. She was considered everything Maria was not. Maria grew up with this little impish angel dancing around her, and Maria grew to hate Roxanne to the point of putting Roxanne in some very dangerous situations hoping she could get Roxanne maimed in some way. Roxanne was also one of those little children that wants to start dating when they are kindergartners. I grew up with Roxanne as a sort of role model in some ways. She always seemed really cool to me. I didn’t have her energy though. I also had a different father, and was raised under different circumstances. I was always fearful where she was always foolishly fearless. She was tall and thin, where I was clumsy and pudgy. Roxanne would laugh on a roller coaster, and I would always cry. In this way, we were just very different. The similarities are mostly in our facial structure – out of all my siblings, I look like her the most I think. And I tried very hard to be a cool 90’s girl like her.

When Roxanne was thirteen, her father’s girlfriend sent photos of her to seventeen magazine. They accepted her, and for a short while, it looked like Roxanne was going to be a model. But at the same time, Roxanne had been sleeping with boys and partying. She was only twelve when she started doing this. I remember very vividly that we shared a room. Roxanne would always torture me in some fashion, but then she would wait till she thought I was asleep, and she would climb out the window and off into the night to go do god knows what. I never told on her.

So, at age twelve, she got pregnant. It was kept as a secret from my father for a time, but then he found out and all hell finally broke loose completely in the family. My father didn’t feel like Roxanne had any business raising children and thought she should put the baby up for adoption. Roxanne wanted to keep the baby and my mother stood by her on this decision. On top of this, my mother had stopped working for a few years around this time and had ran up 80,000 dollars in debt – mostly on things you order on television and clothing for Roxanne. So my dad was working constantly trying to keep up with my mom’s spending. She simply would not stop. They had half finished fixing up the old house, but it was clear at this point that half done was all it would ever be. Also, my mom had my brother and sister as babies around that time, so that added to the stress of it all. Maria had caused fights until she moved away to live with her boyfriend. I had had a brother William who, due to a drunken doctor, was born brain dead and died five days later in the hospital. This loss kind of ruined my parent’s marriage. It was all just crumbling.

So there was a bitter war in the house, and general tension that my dad would explode. Roxanne had grown to hate my father for being the meathead who tried to keep a patriarchal order in the home who called the cops on her when she ran off to do drugs for days at a time. My mother resented my father because he didn’t like her spending, because he talks constantly and over everyone else (he still does), and he never seemed to listen at all, and by this time it was clear that I was his favorite person in the family, so at six, though I was not aware of it at the time, I was resented by my sister and my mom.

So, what happened next, during this time was, Roxanne made up a story that my father had molested her when she was young. It was shocking, and it caused a lot of problems for my personal morals – not knowing the truth of the situation until I got much older and Roxanne confessed that she lied. This basically made my father evil in my mother’s eyes. So, she kicked him out of the house. And then my mother drove off to party. My dad was living in a camper somewhere at this time, working three jobs, still paying the bills. Roxanne had accused him of the most foulest crime ever. It was really something.

At this point, I want to take a step back though and explain that even though this sounds bad, and in some ways for me it was, I personally did not live this life that everyone else had chosen for themselves. My personal world was quite magical and I was not fully affected by the circumstances in my family.

From my perspective, my mother was always distant. This might have affected the kind of nurturing person I am, or rather, am not. I felt very distant from my own femininity because I didn’t really get allowed in the female circle of my family. I was pushed away, and this essentially made my father the major influencer over me. I am not like other girls. I don’t know why, but I think it is because of my mother’s lack of involvement with me whatsoever after age three. She didn’t play with me, hug me, or talk to me. I remember her as a silent statue while my father just blabbered and blabbered. It may be one of those mysterious favoritisms my mother has, but it might have simply been that she resented that my dad loved me more than he did her or her other daughters. In any case, it wasn’t my fault. She favored Roxanne over me, and so having been rejected by the mother figure, I went to my dad for reassurance. This kind of set the stage I think for how I am able to fit in in female social circles as a whole. I have female friends in my life, but they are never like other female friends. And the girls I hang out with have always been social outcasts. And I usually feel like an outcast even to them.

However, my mother was good at providing me with a sort of homemade way of living. She sewed half my clothes, which were generally frilly old fashioned outfits. Half my toys were actually antiques. I was taught to pick up after myself. I became quite organized. Breakfast was made for me every morning on an antique tray, that I would take into my antique table, and chair, and I would eat my meal and then put it outside the door. I was very self sufficient when I was young and I never got bored. The bread we ate was homemade. She was really good this kind of thing. I think growing up in an old house, with a wood stove, with old fashioned furniture, clothing, living in a town of old fashioned brick buildings with old men that still dressed like it was the 20’s gave me this really strong sense of bygone eras. I was somewhat immersed in antiquity from a young age.

My best friend in the world growing up was actually my grandma. Until age five, my phobic chain-smoking afraid-of-everything grandma lived in a few upstairs rooms in the house. She always owned cats. She always smelled like cigarettes. I would visit her just about every other day and we would watch Bob Ross, and Mr. Rogers. I used to hold her hand and push on her big mushy veins. When the weather was bad, my mom and dad would not let me near her door, knowing that she was secretly crying in fear. I only found out later what was happening. She had two cats, Stanley and Booker. My father hated cats back then, and he resented her love of animals. My grandma Betty, and my mother however, did not get along. My dad didn’t agree with either one of them, but they put him in the middle of their squabble. Eventually, my grandma moved to live with my dad’s younger brother Steve. It was very hard for me, and my family didn’t tell me till she already moved.

I had a lot of structure when I was young. I do remember the sorrow in the house when William died. That kind of changed things. But everyone was quite nice to me, aside from Roxanne, who delighted in picking on me. I had a friend up the street named Colt, who would come to my house and we would make mudpies. There was a public pool that was open in the summers, and a creek that ran through the town. It was a beautiful place to grow up when you were very small. The old people that my grandma Betty would sometimes visit down at the diner would always dote over me, in my antique style dresses my mother sewed for me. I remember these days very positively.

I mostly looked forward to my father coming home after work. I used to eat dirt for some reason and I think I got worms at some point for this. I found scissors one time as well, and I chopped half my hair off. My mother had to chop off the other side to make it even, and I cried thinking I looked just like a boy. I used to play games where I made ants have competitions to see which one could live the longest in water. It was probably the meanest thing I ever did. I was generally a very calm and well behaved child. There were only three times I ever got into trouble. The first one was, I decided I wanted to be a black person. I am not sure at all where this came to me. I just felt that I should be black. I didn’t know anyone who was black. I just thought black skin looked better. I just felt like my family didn’t understand me for this. I decided I was going to change my skin color with dirt. I realize this story might seem kind of racist to anyone reading it, but I am attempting to just be honest about what happened, I was four and I didn’t mean anything at all to be insulting, other than having an honest need to change the color of my skin. I wasn’t trying to be funny. I seriously thought mud would do the trick somehow. I got naked, went outside, filled up a basin with mud, and completely soaked myself in it. Then I proceeded to walk around covered from head to toe in mud naked in broad daylight down the street. My father came home from work, he saw me and I not only got hosed down with cold water that made me cry, I also got whipped. My dad is racist too, so he probably indoctrinated me with some terrible bullshit to defer me from wishing I had dark skin.

Aside from my mother buying things online, she also would buy animals we could not take care of, birds, fish, iguanas, cats, dogs, pigs. We’d keep them for a short while, before they would eventually die or we would have to get rid of them. She never would talk to my dad about it at all. She would just wake up one morning and buy the animal. My dad would come home and there we would have three iguanas, or a new dog, or whathaveyou. We had a pig for a short time named Angie. Angie was my friend. I would pet her and feed her popcorn. She was a very sweet little pig. Eventually my father got rid of her, selling her to essentially be slaughtered. After this I refused to eat meat. I didn’t know that meat was animal flesh until that point where it was explained to me by Roxanne, and it took a a lot of firm punishment to get me to eat meat after that. I eventually did of course go back to the brainwashed world of meat eating, but I never really forgot it entirely, which is why I eventually went vegan as an adult as soon as I was able to as an adult.

The third thing I did was uncharacteristic of me and shocked my family. My best friend Colt had a cousin named Carrie. Carrie was very well liked by the adults. All the kids wanted to play with her. She lived far away, so her visitation was also taken as a celebration. Even Roxanne liked her over me. She said so herself. I remember sitting off away from everyone else by the trees. Carrie wasn’t mean to me or anything, but I remember feeling like I needed to set things right in some way. I felt like Carrie threatened my place I guess. I was instantly left out the second she came to visit. I was a very introverted child and I didn’t know how else to get attention other than to be at the right place at the right time. So I went and found a big stick. It might have been Carrie’s birthday, I cannot quite remember. I walked straight up to her friendly smiling face, and I remember mindlessly whacking her as hard as I could in the face with the stick. The funniest thing about this incident is that I was not mad at Carrie. I did not do this aggressive thing because I was mad at her. I remember feeling compelled, but not by strong emotions. Which was why I was equally confused when everyone around me began scolding me. It even confused me why Carrie was crying. Nobody could understand why I did what I did. I didn’t feel guilty because I didn’t understand it either. It just happened. Everyone around me was angry at me or in shock. I just felt confused by the entire event.

A week before I started school, my friend Colt (who moved at the end of that summer), convinced me to put a bead up my nose. I remember it very well. It was a pretty red sparkly one. I put it up my nose, and I could not get it out. Eventually Roxanne found out, then my mother. Everyone did everything they could but it was lodged into the very back of my nostril at this point. So I was driven forty miles to the hospital, where they used some strange doctor’s equipment and pulled it out. I remember feeling very relieved. A week later, I turned five. My father found this obscure Japanese cartoon that I fell in love with – which just so happened to be Totoro.  They took me all the way up to Spokane to Chucky Cheese (which wasn’t really as fun as I had hoped – all the kids seemed really wild and the pizza was sub par). It felt like the rites of initiation.

Anyway, school officially sucked. Kindergarten was probably the hardest year of school I ever had. My grandmother had moved away. Maria had moved out, and despite being a pain to the family or whatever, she was actually quite sweet to me, always letting me look at her stuff, she would read the bible to me, teach me cheesy songs by guns 'n’ roses. I didn’t really know about how often she stole, or lied. I didn’t know about the orgies or how she ripped up her papers in class. I thought Maria was a beautiful princess. Anyway, she was gone. My grandmother had moved. Colt moved away as well. He had been my best friend for two yeas of my short life, and he was gone. I had just gotten a bead pulled out of my nose.

Maria had me watch Crybaby for the first time. I was enchanted. At five I was madly in love with Johnny Depp in Crybaby. I didn’t see it as a satire, or a comedy. I thought of it as a really intense romance. I was absolutely obsessed and consumed by any passion that a very little girl that I was could possibly feel for someone. I was probably more in love with Johnny Depp than my parents had ever been with each other if I am going to be honest. My mom, though obsessed with her boyfriends, has never actually been in love at all. I am not sure she really actually likes men, or trusts them. And my father is not a romantic person. I think by definition he would be considered aromantic by scales of sexuality/gender/and romantic inclination. He just sees utility in human interaction and no poetry at all. I kept trying to draw Johnny Depp over and over. I also by extension thought Elvis was pretty nice too. It was never good enough. I was a bit of a perfectionist. I remember crying because my drawings kept looking like a typical ungifted child’s drawings. I wanted to make adult art. I was not capable of it. I remember the frustration. But it was this early age that I decided I wanted to grow up to be creative. I realized that with art, you can take the beautiful things in the actual world, and you can insulate them and pack them together into music, stage, words, and pages of lines and color. And you can study those beautiful things and work with them in their purity in a way that life rarely provides the opportunity for.

A Series of Unfathomable Feelings (10/10)

AU Rommate!Steve x Reader

Summary: After Bucky decides to move in with his long-time girlfriend, Steve has to look for another roommate. But destiny, or rather Bucky, will set him with someone less boring than Steve intended.

Word Count: 1,493

Warnings: Language, Implied Smut, Fluffiest Fluff

A/N: Gezelligheid (Dutch) is the warmth of being with loved ones.

(cross-posted to Ao3)

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10]

Originally posted by coloursong

“Okay girls, we only have ten more minutes before she comes home with Steve. Come on, move!” Natasha shouted at the group of girls who ran around the room like headless chickens.

“I don’t think we will make it.” Wanda chewed on her nail. “We need more time!” She panicked before Natasha caught her shoulders.

“Calm down! It will be the best party in history.” Natasha said, looking straight into Wanda’s eyes as if she was trying to hypnotize her.

“But Y/n…”

“She will be here soon, don’t worry.”

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High School Trends That I Remember Fondly

Okay so let me share with you all some quality high school trends from my days in high school because boy were we a bunch of sass masters

These all took place from 2007 -2012 because I went to a weird fusion school that lumped every grade from 7th to 12th together ( that means we had thirteen year olds up to 18-19 year olds in the same school )

Anyway let’s go

7th Grade( I was a smol 13 year old)

First off there were like 30 kids in each class okay?


- Pencils as hair decor ???? Why????

- Swiping needles from Home Ec and sticking them in your finger JUST under the surface of the skin to freak out the teach

- Referring to lunch as ’ the troph special’

-Girls sending guys Valentine’s that just said ’ U R No Good ’ and ’ Allen Ur Not In My League ’

- Guys sending girls tiny stuffed animals for V Day with cards that said ’ I’m Soft For U’ and ’ Be My Plush One?’

- Claiming various things had ’ killed our ancestors ’ :

’ I can’t do long division , my thirty seventh great grandfather died doing that’

’ No I can’t answer that question sir, every male in my family so far has died answering English questions ’

’ I’m not allowed to be disciplined , discipline killed my grandma’

- Wearing rubber bands as bracelets or rings and the tighter you could get it the cooler you were ???? This kid almost lost a finger by third period I mean …..

-Asking our biology teacher what would happen if insects could speak every class period

’ What if wasps could speak but they only spoke Mid-6th Century English ’

’ What if spiders all speak Russian’

’ Do you think bees know English ’

- Pestering our history teacher for the history of the Leaf Village ( I’m sorry Mr. Hoagland )

- Replying ’ Deleted’ when your name was called

….. I accidentally started this one

8th grade ( I was 14 )

- Rap battles to settle arguments ????

- Yoyo fights. It got intense.

-Every white boy in school dressed like a bad Western movie character , cowboy hats and spurs and SO.MUCH.PLAID.

- ’ The Dew Crew’, a gang of boys who drank nothing but Mountain Dew as refreshment , was born and monopolized the school’s soda supply of Mountain Dew . All of them made it to adulthood but it is suspected they no longer require sleep and eat only the disdainful glares of women for survival ( at their peak there were 15 of them )

- Intense shouting of someone else’s name every time something went wrong ( usually the name Sasuke )

- Pentagrams everywhere ; drawn on any surface we could find unsupervised for a second , started by me doodling in art class and picked up by my squad . The school board thought someone was possessed by the devil it was GREAT…. I NEVER GOT CAUGHT

- In Chemistry we watched Finding Nemo about 3 times a week because the teacher was really forgetful and he let us watch it when he forgot his lesson plan , so by the end of the first month that year every kid he taught would call various roundish objects ’ the butt’ and I was nicknamed’ Dory ’ by everyone I knew

Also the principal was nicknamed’ Bruce"

-Hardcore Zombie prep planning , there was a gang and everything .

The Apoca-Punks are still strong

- Disney discourse in English class because our teacher was a huge nerd for Disney and loved nothing more than to watch us argue over which princess would beat Gaston in a fight faster ( Kida won by a landslide but we all agreed Mulan would murder him in five seconds flat )

Also he nicknamed all of us after Disney characters and I was Lilo ( my best friend was Stitch )

- Okay so I brought a bag of chocolate as a treat for the class one week and I was really tired and out of it so when the teacher ( our English teacher Mr . Bagley, who was also the principal) asked me to ’ explain the historical properties of chocolate’ I got sarcastic and went ’ For many years chocolate has been used in medicinal treatments for ailments of all kinds. Perhaps it will even cure the lack of hair on Mr . B’s head’ ……

For a second it was dead silent and then he laughed and said “Well put , you continue to live up to your nickname, Lilo!”

- Shakespeare quotes at inopportune times

“ Exit, pursued by a bear”

“ We are in the middle of a test , Austin. ”

“ A rose , by any other name , would smell-”

- The drama kids dramatically snapping during arguments

- Okay so there was this weird loft zone in the second gym( because our school had two , a sucktastic old one from the fifties and a newish one from the eighties ) nobody was supposed to go up there unless they had permission and it was for filming a basketball game ???

But everyone went up there anyway and at least ten couples lost their virginity up there ( what a weird place to do it tho , we kept the wrestling mats up there)

I sluffed class a few times and took a nap there

And it became a Thing to draw a little baby face on the wall if you lost your V card there

-Supergluing coins to stuff????

There’s still a dime on someone’s locker and it’s been like ten years

-’ Ambrosia’ , AKA this super delicious combo of cherry slurpee , Sprite, and orange Fanta that our English teacher made us during parties . He literally made it in these huge plastic bins and just ladeled it out to everyone

9th Grade( I was 15)

- The Goth Invasion

Everyone who was punk enough wore black ripped jeans and eyeliner and streaked their hair with red and black

One kid never left the Goth phase , we love u Scott ( it’s cool he was our school’s Warren Peace anyway )


He was really salty about it too , he said “ Warren isn’t goth he’s Punk there’s a difference you capitalist Bible thumpers’

Scott got 54 Valentine’s that year but just shrugged and gave his candy to me and my squad because we were , as he put it ’ the only punk crew in class, plus you’re all really cute ’

He never kept a girlfriend very long but he was the nicest guy you’ve ever seen ( everyone thought he was gay but just too shy to say it )

Over the years he is consistly hotter , and more unashamedly Goth

- My sister arrived in school and was immediately the most popular kid in school and was nicknamed ’ Princess ’

- My squad got nicknamed ’ Squad 7 ” due to our obsession with Naruto and other anime , and we each were nicknamed after characters from the show by my friend Indi ( who was named after Indiana Jones, no lie)

Melanie was ’ Kiba’ ( which delighted her because she would marry him in a heartbeat )

Mackenzie was ’ Neji’ because according to Indi she was the most monologue-y
Chandra was ’ Hinata’ because she was shy but fierce

And I, Aubrey , was ’ Gaara’ because according to Indi :’ Your dad is kinda sucky and you’ve got two siblings . You’re sort of the social outcast of school and when you get annoyed enough it’s like you’ve got this terrifying supernatural thing in your eyes , I love it ’


10th Grade( I’m 16)

- ’ Because I’m Batman ’ being an answer to every question

- Goonies puns

- Three girls got pregnant and were called the ’ Baby On Board Squad"

- Due to this teen pregnancy scandal , my heavily Christian community had our school hold assemblies about how ’ Sex will kill you’ and how ’ every time a teen has Sex Thoughts, an angel cries’ ….. There were ’ God Is Abstintent ’ posters everywhere

So naturally we revolted and the drama class put up these fliers reading ’ Without Sex, You Wouldn’t Be Around . ’

’ Satan Loves You and Wants You To Explore Your Perfectly Normal Urges ’

’ Sex Won’t Kill You- But STD’s Could! Use Protection! ’

’ Wrap It Before He Taps It And The Angels Won’t Be Crying “

” Boys Like Girls.Boys Think Of Girls In Sexual Ways. Boys Best Treat Her Right First . Boys Best Be Stepping Up As Baby Daddys If They Tap Dat “

And many more golden rebellious posters

- Shouting ” Go Go Power Rangers “ when dealing with a problem and just out of nowhere any kid wearing the appropriate Power Ranger colored shirt would appear

So you’d get a guy in red , a guy in blue , a guy in black , a guy in white , a guy in green , a guy in gold , a guy in silver, a girl in pink and a girl in yellow and they’d all pose dramatically and do the Power Rangers moves

- Rubber band slingshot warfare using hairpins as ammo

- The school dividing into Benders and Non Benders , and the school’s most loved outcast was deemed Avatar( I got the honor so my squad was nicknamed accordingly )

- High School Musical was the biggest thing ever because our music teacher WROTE THE SCORES FOR THEM I MEAN…….

We all knew every song by heart that year

Everyone shipped Chad and Ryan

11th Grade( I was 17 )

-Percy Jackson was huge and everyone wanted a godly parent

- Every girl used a dramatic break up song to end things with her man it was GLORIOUS

- Taylor Swift was playing on the radio every day

- My class finally realized that my friend Courtney and I had the same exact birthday and birth year , and thus introduced us to substitute teachers as ’ The Fraternal Twins’

Courtney and I are both gonna be 23 on March 20 at 6:40 am

- Our history teacher thought my friends and I were in an assassin cult because we were always drawing kunai knives and swords and guns , so he banned kunai drawing????? And it thus became the Cool Thing to graffiti everywhere??? All because I drew one on my ASVAB????

-The sheriff pulled me out of homeroom because I’d been overheard singing P!nk’s ” Funhouse" and the Secretary thought I was an arsonist because of the line “ I’m gonna burn this sucker down ” and thus rumors spread like wildfire that I’d:

~ Murdered someone
~ Witnessed a crime

~ Started a gang war
~ Shot a cop
~ Robbed the one gas station in town
~ Insulted the sheriff’s daughter by not inviting her to my birthday party so he was here to bribe me to do so
~ Stolen the sheriff’s prized collection of horse paintings

12th Grade ( I was 18 )

- Posters everywhere about the world ending ( it was 2012)

- Harry Potter mania

- John Lennon Memes????

No really on the anniversary of his death the school was flooded with posters of him everywhere saying “ In Loving Memory Of A Dreamer ” and the radio only played his music and the drama class went around stating facts about his death it was surreal and I was part of it

Creatures of the Night part 1

Category: Supernatural, Vampire AU, featuring Phan and KicktheStickz

Summary: Phil, PJ, and Chris are a small clan of vampires living in London. Phil discovers newborn vampire Dan, who was abandoned by his creator. 

Phil had found the scent a few minutes ago. Ever since he’d first discovered the trail in the woods, he had been tracking it. By the smell alone, it was obvious that he was a young vampire, just a newborn, a little fledgling. It was only odd that there were no other vampire scents around him. Usually a newborn stayed with his or her maker for at least a few years, until they gained experience with their new life.

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rating: t
word count: 5.7k
genre: gen/friendship
warnings: moments of intense anxiety, topics relating to
 mental health and food/eating, death/suicide mention, vomiting
outside link: ao3
summary: Sanji smokes for a couple of reasons.

It hurt endlessly, worse than anything he’d ever felt, until, one day, it didn’t anymore, for a while.

It made him intensely sick, and that never really stopped, even when the pain did.

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Links to ALL of my Fics!

Here’s a post for all of the Phanfics I have ever written! These are not in order of when I wrote them. Though, if you’re curious, the first one I ever wrote was Just Passing Through. 

The *’s mark my personal favorites!

The +’s mark chaptered fics!

The Hidden Truth: Dan and Phil have been touring the world with their show, The Amazing Tour is Not on Fire, and when the last show ever comes to a close, Dan and Phil reveal the real reason why they went on such an extravagant tour.

Loving Can Hurt:  When someone falls in love with Dan, they get amnesia, essentially forgetting they knew him, let alone ever loved him.

Our Lives: TATINOF is ending for good and there is one last surprise that the world has yet to see in one of the shows.

When He Promised Forever: Dan hasn’t seen Phil since their fight over a year ago. It’s not until he runs into an old fan with a cat whiskers tattoo that he decides that maybe it’s time to heal old wounds. Because, after all, Phil had promised him forever once. And Dan didn’t want to make him seem like a liar.

Just Passing Through: Dan has a secret no one knows. When any person he has ever looked in the eyes physically, dies, their spirit must pass through him in order to move on to the other side. So when the person he cares about most is in a life threatening situation, he can’t help but break the rules he’s known all his life to try and save him. He will do anything to get his friend back. Just how far is he willing to go to save him?

Soundless:  Phil Lester moves to town and attends a school full of cliques. He doesn’t see his life going anywhere until he somehow manages to befriend the mute kid in school. Now he’s beginning to learn that life can take you anywhere, and is full of friends in unlikely places. But in the wake of a tragedy, Phil must learn to understand not just words, but actions. Because sometimes, the loudest cry for help can be soundless.

In the End:  It’s been a little over a year since Dan died. And Phil had just now decided to read a letter that was left for him with Dan’s last words.

7 Years:  Dan plays 7 years by Lukas Graham on the piano and Phil can’t help but get emotional at the memories the song brings.

In Pieces: A crazed killer who chops his victims into pieces threatens London, and MI5 agent, Phil Lester, is on the case. But when you’re in love, you become blinded to the obvious. How many more people will die before Phil can bring the killer to justice? And can Phil protect his boyfriend at all costs until then?

Lying For a Cause: Phil is sick and refuses to tell Dan of it because he knows how stressed he gets when his best friend is ill.

When it Rains: Phil likes when it rains. Dan’s not sure if he does. But with the help of Phil and one rainfall, Dan decides if he likes when it rains.

At Night: Phil can’t sleep. Good thing Dan is there to help him out.

Don’t Cry Over Silly Things: Phil walks in on Dan late at night as he’s crying. Dan explains to him what’s wrong and Phil tries to console him with cuddles and kisses.

We Made It: If Dan and Phil were told in 2009 that they would make it, they would have just laughed. Now, ten years later, they get to say it for themselves. Dan and Phil made it. They never knew they would.

The Light in the Dark: Dan is an “Average.” A kid born without possessing any magic. Everyone around him has these abilities, and he’s considered the outcast in this world. He avoids trouble as much as he can, considering he’s just a defenseless boy. But when he runs into a group of kids who are wanted for having rare abilities, he’s thrown straight into the path of danger, now fighting for a freedom everyone deserves. Even him.

Make Me Happy: Your soulmate is your opposite. For every happy, there is a sad. Phil can’t wait to meet his counterpart. He wants to make them the happiest person on the planet. But his soulmate is having a bit of trouble coming to terms with that.

Polaroids: Phil says he likes to take pictures of art. Dan knows this, but he doesn’t know the full extent of it. Not until he goes over to Phil’s flat for the first time and sees that his walls are covered in it.

Snow Globe of Wishes: Everyone gets one wish in life, but Phil Lester’s doesn’t seem to be coming true. Each day, he shakes his snow globe and wishes upon it, looking at the thing inside that’s supposed to mean the most to him. He seems to think that it’s broken, but one day, he changed up his wish. And his life wasn’t the same after that.

Story Book of Dreams: It’s been a few months since Phil’s wish came true and he met Dan. To make up for his lost wish, he writes down his dreams. Phil soon finds out that sometimes, you do get more than one wish in life. It just takes a little longer to come true.

Throw Me in the Deep and Watch Me Drown: Dan likes to look out at the open water from afar, but he doesn’t like to get close to it out of fear. It’s not until Phil decides to drag him on an adventure in the late of the night, that Dan is forced to see what else the water has to offer, other than looking pretty at a distance.

Take Me Over: Dan lives in a world where dominates rule and submissives are their “toys.” This doesn’t always include sex, but it most certainly can. Dan has never wanted to be someone’s sex toy, and he really didn’t once he met Phil Lester, but when Phil makes him do things Dan never even dreamed about, he becomes conflicted and isn’t quite sure what he wants out of life. Not until he spends a week with Phil, learning new things and discoverings new kinks. He lets Phil take him over, and it’s all he’s ever wanted.

+ Home is Where the Stars Shine: Dan is from space. Phil is from the earth. Each have magic relating to their origins, but no one must know about them. But when Dan and Phil’s paths cross, both find it rather difficult to keep their secrets hidden. Especially since the world keeps drawing them closer together. Because what is it they say? Opposites attract? Ft. Spaceboy!Dan and Plantboy!Phil

Our Future: Dan and Phil actually own the “Future Phil Lester” and “Future Dan Howell” Twitter accounts, and use them to talk about how they want their lives to be ten years in the future.

Intertwined: Two boys. One fate.Dan made a horrible wish. And it was granted. He saw the life that would have been if he didn’t click that one YouTube video nearly ten years ago, and watch that guy who calls himself AmazingPhil. What he also got, however, was an insight to Phil’s life as well. Dan never realized just how different his friend’s life would be without him. And though he seemed to be doing just fine, Dan learned a little more than he bargained for. He learned of fate, and how it always plays a hand in making sure two people meet. No matter the time, no matter the life.

Only the Best for You: Dan is nervous, and he can’t stop fidgeting and sweating. But he supposes it’s all part of the nerves that come from marrying your best friend of ten years.

Life is So Much Better When …: It’s been awhile since Dan and Phil were done with their tour, but that doesn’t stop certain thoughts from filling Dan’s mind. With the help of Phil, Dan remembers what his purpose in life is, and that he didn’t need a world tour to fulfill it.

I’ll Try: Dan has been getting help for his self-harm problem, and all he’s asked to do is at least try to get better. So when volunteer Phil asks him to try, Dan will do just that. If not for himself, then for Phil.

A Not So Smitten Kitten: Dan hates Halloween for one reason: every year, he turns into a tiny, black cat for the whole day. But with warm snuggles and a little bit of playing with Phil, Dan thinks that maybe this Halloween wasn’t so bad after all. Despite his cat form.

I Will Always Love You: Dan was diagnosed with hypothyroidism a few months back, and he finds it rather difficult to accept the changes it’s making to his body. But of course, Phil doesn’t care about those changes. He will always love Dan. And he’s going to show him as much.

After Midnight: Dan is a bit upset about not being able to spend New Year’s Eve with Phil, so he goes to Louise’s in hopes of lessening his sadness. Just when he thinks that wasn’t going to do the trick, there’s a small surprise waiting for him at midnight, making his sadness vanish completely.

Let Me Feel Your Heartbeat: (Soulmate AU) A year after the death of his parents, Dan finds that the only reason he’s able to get up in the mornings is because of the ring on his finger - the one that beats to the rhythm of his soulmate’s heart. Soon enough, Dan finds another reason to wake up in the mornings. And he supposes that’s due to a kind stranger who keeps invading his thoughts. 

What We Want: Dan and Phil have a date night, which eventually leads to them realizing what they both want for their future together.

Looking Back: Dan and Phil, old and gray and in their eighties, still make the most out of life, despite some difficult changes. Told through their present day and very domestic flashbacks, Dan and Phil will be together forever. Phil promised.

Eternity: Vampire!Phil will do anything to protect his human boyfriend, Dan. Even if that means turning him into the very thing Phil didn’t want him to be. But when Dan gets severely hurt, that seems to be the only option for the both of them.

It Never Seems To Be Enough: Dan gets hate comments and gets bullied by his subscribers on the internet for not posting the video he said he would, and when he breaks down from it, Phil is there to help him back up.

Fell for You (Like a Fire Escape)

This was originally based on a prompt from this list

“you found me hanging by my fingertips from your window and I don’t want to tell you i was trying to rob you but idk how else to explain this and i don’t want to go to jail and also you’re kind of cute we should make out when i’m not clinging onto your window ledge for my life.” 

But then it took on a life of its own and now we’re here.

A building code violation.

All the stupid and reckless shit he’d done in his life, and Stiles was going to die because of a building code violation.

It was unsafe, hazardous, and the building owner should definitely be sued because really, if a fire escape collapsed under his skinny ass, there was no way it would hold up for multiple building residents trying to evacuate in case of an emergency. It should definitely be reported immediately—not by Stiles, because how could he possibly explain being on the fire escape of a building he didn’t live in or know any tenants of, but really, someone should be notified asap.

Faster than asap, because Stiles was hanging from a window ledge, five floors up, with four levels of collapsed and rusty fire escape to break his fall, and his fingers were getting tired.

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rishidiams  asked:

Well, in that case... a prompt for baby!fic with Rose and any fully Time Lord Doctor.

Clara stared as the Doctor and his equally mysterious wife, Rose, walked out of the TARDIS and into her living room. She crossed her arms. “And how long has it been this time?”

The Doctor looked up at the cieling. “Three weeks?”

“Doesn’t look like,” she said scathingly. “More like two years.”

They blinked and the looked at the squirming bundle in Rose’s arms. “Oh, you mean Junior here?” Rose asked as the baby cooed and burbled up at her. “No, we’re just looking after him. He’s a Bendaki, in his culture the parents leave the children with friends for six months at a time until they are ten, at which point-”

Clara scoffed. “Look, I know what couples get up to behind closed doors. But you don’t have to lie to me about the result.”

The Doctor frowned. “He really is a Bendaki. Look at his feet.”

Rose removed the booties and Clara stared at the green and yellow patterns. “Yeah, alright, he’s alien.”

“Do you think we can stay here for a bit?” Rose asked apologetically. “We would have gone to Donna’s but her child is just now starting to sleep the night through, and Martha and Mickey are doing some undercover work for UNIT.”

Clara groaned. “I don’t have a guest bedroom.”

“We’ll live on the TARDIS,” the Doctor replied. “We just can’t time travel with Junior. And yes, that is his name. Bendaki’s aren’t the most… original when it comes to names.”

“Well they don’t even raise their own children,” Clara muttered as Rose cooed to the little boy.

Clara had to admit that he was a sweet baby, all smiles and laughter, and he didn’t really cry when he wanted something- instead he oozed out orange goo, which was nearly impossible to get out of clothes. Rose had hunted down some sort of super-cloth from the eighty third century that would protect their clothes, and Clara nicknamed him Oyster after the smell the goo produced.

Six months really wasn’t that long, in retrospect. Rose was as wonderful as always, and even the gruff and silver-haired Doctor melted around the baby. Though Clara had long days at the school, she did enjoy spending time with Junior, and it led her to finding out that the Doctor and Rose couldn’t have children- and instead spoiled whichever child they came across. She knew they made fantastic godparents to Donna’s own the last time she had met the red-head for coffee, and Donna often complained that her children liked them better than her and Lee. 

When it was time for them to go, Clara knew she would genuinely miss Junior, and gave him a stuffed badger to remember her by. 

She joined them as they dropped Junior off to the next family, who were also Bendaki and had a child currently staying with their parents. They cooed over him and admired the badger, hugging Clara in gratitude. She knew he would be in good hands, so she left with the Doctor and Rose when it was time to leave.

“Have you ever thought of adoption?” Clara asked as the Doctor was piloting them to some planet she couldn’t pronounce.

Rose smiled wistfully. “Our lives really aren’t suited for them, Clara. We can look after them for a time, make them happy, but we always end up in trouble and I won’t risk an innocent soul in that way. The Doctor and I… we do things together. I couldn’t stay on the TARDIS as he saves the world, and he couldn’t let me face down dictators or war lords on my own. We’re happy, though. That’s all that matters.”

Clara was quiet for a long time. “If I ever… if I ever start a family, you’ll visit, right?”

Rose hugged her. “Oh, Clara. You couldn’t keep us away.”

battysorciere  asked:

Imagine tho. Fakir is having a class and he is totally scolding all of them, calling then idiots etc, when Ahiru comes bouncing in with their bb and everyone is like "who the heck" and Fakir just sighs and

(2/2) and Ahiru gives him a kiss goodbye and waves to the class and Fakir continues teaching with a baby in his arms and the class is left thinking “wtf judt happened”

“Do you think I assign readings for fun? That I just throw it up on the board for laughs?”

The class visibly pales. It’s well-known that Professor Lohen is one of the most difficult teachers at the university. Hell, Rate-My-Professor has him made out to be Satan with reading glasses and a fetish for ten-page paper minimums. But there’s no denying that he’s damn good at what he does, even if he does do it with entirely more verbal abuse than necessary. Regardless, it’s an introductory course! Who the hell even assigns readings during syllabus week? Ridiculous.

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look i finally wrote something that's not myan

Title: Roses are Red, and the Violets are Out of Stock, Sorry

Rating: G

Pairing: Joel/Ray

Word Count: 7,000

Summary: If he’s not pissing off his agent, he’s pissing off his costar, or his girlfriend, or somebody else. The only solution seems to be flowers.

A/N: I was reading a Neil Gaiman anthology and really enjoyed a story about a guy in LA trying to write a movie adaption of his novel titled ‘The Goldfish Pool and Other Stories’. I thought of this shortly after.

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Always A Kid

Always a kid.

I’m 34 this past October. I skip, toe-walk, and run to get places.
My target weight is ninety pounds, I average eighty five.
I’m five foot two, but most of that is elongated bones from genetics being funny. I’d be four ten or eleven without the (really cute) extra long straight bones.
My face has no wrinkles. No frown lines, no smile lines.
I do not speak. I don’t understand when you do.
I giggle a lot. I skip and run and twirl a lot. I wave my arms like wings.

I am dying. I have always been dying. The doctor told my mother to be ready for a stillborn.

The doctors told my mother I wouldn’t live to see my first birthday - my blood pressure was too high and they couldn’t lower it. My bones were growing too long in some places but not enough in others. She resolved to make my short life a happy one.

I was two. I said the words two year olds say. Did the things two year olds do. But I got tired so fast. The doctors told my mother I was going to die before I was five. She played with me.

I was four. Running around the forest and climbing trees (naked because how else do you climb trees?). I heard noises but they made no sense so I played in the forest. The doctors said I was going deaf. The doctors said it didn’t matter because my blood pressure was going to kill me soon anyway. She played with me.

Mother taught me to read and write so we could keep playing.

I was five. Mom proved to the doctor I wasn’t deaf. He said I was retarded and hopeless. Even though I could read and write. I could hear but not understand so I was retarded, end of discussion. Besides, I was going to die soon anyway so pursuing it was a waste of time and money. Mother took me home and played with me.

I was around ten and in pain. There were cysts on my ovaries. Ovaries that had never developed. Oh, Turner Syndrome. Ovaries are useless bits of organic matter causing me pain. Leave them in, I might want to have babies some day even though I was going to die soon because my blood pressure was killing my heart. Non functional ovaries in a girl that was about to die should be left in, just in case she chooses to get pregnant later. (Now we know where zombies come from). Mother took me home and played with me.

A person suggested to Mom an autism clinic that was looking for “severely” autistic children, but I probably wouldn’t fit since I was a girl and girls aren’t autistic, but since what they were looking for matched how I acted, my Mom should check it out. The doctor thought I was adorable as long as I wasn’t banging my head on something. I was accepted as long as my parents agreed to many EEGs and other tests many times a year. (how I became a crash test dummy)

I was a happy kid. I knew I was about to die. If you’re about to die and you can’t stop it and you are a child, what do you do? You play like hell to make sure you get every bit of fun you can before it’s gone. I giggle and run and twirl. I wave my arms as if trying to fly.

I was twelve and the docs suggested HRT to make me go into puberty. I couldn’t talk or understand talking. My idea of a disaster was a bad chapter in a David Eddings novel. HRT might increase my blood pressure. The thing that was about to kill me at any minute. I didn’t get HRT. I got more cysts on non-functioning body parts that weren’t removed because I might want kids some day even though the parts didn’t work and I was about to die. My mother played with me.

I was around fourteen. I met the little girl at the clinic who refused to talk to anyone, hit people for no apparent reason, threw things around at random.

She sat beside me as I waited for my father to finish talking to the old fart beside him because there was no way I was getting close to a stranger.

She looked at my huge eyes. “Goss big eyes.” Pointed at her own eyes. “Goss big eyes.” She put her hand on mine even though I was trying to pull away. “Elbs.”

We giggle and run and walk on our toes and refuse to wear shoes. We spin and twirl and sing along to blues and rock & roll even though we can’t get the words right. There are people that tell us when to go to bed. We don’t listen to them unless they carry us. -

- what, you expected me to write 34 years of life into one post? Do you know how many hours it took me to get this far? You are so demanding! Like what, you can write a whole sentence in less than a minute? 

 … erm, anyways, it’s how I got to be a growed up child - I never had to grow up. 

I’m about to die. They stopped saying that when I turned twenty. They still think it, they just don’t like being wrong.

But since I’m about to die anyway, no point in getting too wrapped up in the details of growing up.

To the population of douching asswipes out there that think it’s disgraceful that Green Day were inducted,

How very fucking dare you.

You say that Green Day don’t deserve their induction, that they aren’t good enough for the achievement. I say that you should really brush up on your knowledge of a band before you start making accusations. Because, if one thing’s for sure, Green Day’s probably the one band in this world that truly deserves that place on the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. So shut the fuck up.

Yes, they started out in the Gilman scene in the late eighties. It was in the dusty streets of Berkeley that Green Day made their first music. They’d made a name for themselves down that way, had fans and adorers. BUT DO YOU KNOW WHAT THEY DID? They then fucking signed to Warner Bros. records, knowing that by doing so they would lose the allowance to step foot in 924 Gilman again in their lives, and they knew that all the fans they’d made for themselves would turn against them because of their decision. Why would they sign to Warner, then? It was because they knew that if they didn’t, their music careers would eventually fizzle out into nothing and they’d have to get on with living ordinary lives. And music was all these guys knew. It was the only thing that they knew they wanted as a constant in their lives. And they also knew what they had to do to keep that constant…. well…. constant. They did it, but by losing a lot of their fans in the process. It’s probably the most punk rock thing they could’ve done.

Next came Dookie, which was nothing short of a phenomenon. While punk music had in the past always been about yelling and burning buildings and climbing over Berlin Walls, suddenly people started to hear Green Day. Dookie showcased Billie Joe, his desperate lyrics reflecting himself as a terrified adolescent; scared shitless of what he’s becoming. Now, how could no one listen to this? Green Day reinvented punk music with Dookie, and they also opened the gates of the genre for waves of lost, hopeless young kids who were looking for music they could really relate to.

Then came the ten year follow-up to Dookie. Though Green Day’s sound still remained sigunature to what people had come to know and love, they’d tried many an experiment with their music. The heavy punk bashers on Insomniac. The lighter tracks of Nimrod, and the acoustic based punk on Warning. But, no matter what, they were still living in Dookie’s ever-looming shadow. Oh, and also, they were working on an album in 2003-ish, but it got fucking stolen. Billie Joe actually called Mike up at one point and asked if they wanted to disband. Shit was getting to be WAY too hard on them. Billie Joe’d developed a mild depression after Warning was out and released and they were all struggling with their wn personal issues themselves. BUT THEN GUESS THE FUCK WHAT? THEY RELEASED AMERICAN FUCKING IDIOT. Now, even if you were’t a teenager in 2004, you still know the first line of American Idiot. I know you do. Again, more lyrics that teenager could relate to so, so well. And then there was the Bush-bashing. Others had tried it and they’d been shut down spectacularly. But there was something about the raging tone and air of revolution that came with American Idiot that you’d be stupid to ignore. Green Day were banned from MTV and all those things because people were listening to what they were saying too much. And the government were kinda freaked out by this. It’s exactly the kind of reaction a punk record only dreams of getting, and they fucking got it. GREEN DAY REINVENTED PUNK TWICE IN TEN YEARS THANK YOU VERY MUCH.

AND THEN, after that, they released 21st Century Breakdown, which still bashed the shit out of America and is an album a lot of people like even more than American Idiot. It’s personal to the band but is also impersonal at the same time, however the hell they managed to do that. But the thing is, with 21st, Green Day were on the edge of ticking over into their forties in the age department, but they were still probably the most relevant and influential band out there. WHAT THE FUCK. That doesn’t happen often, kids. I can honestly say that.

Oh yeah. And after 21st, they just casually released a fucking trilogy of albums in the space of one year like it mean fucking nothing. But we are used to Green Day doing weird, amazing and unheard of shit like that now, so it doesn’t surprise us in the least.




So, all you fucking assholes out there. Don’t you dare for a second say that Green Day don’t deserve that induction. You probably wouldn’t have survived the lives the boys have led, so shut up. I know my shit, and I will fight you.