Import

Animorphs E-Books reading order: https://rjalker.tumblr.com/post/178286441229/all-the-animorphs-books-in-the-proper-order

hair stuff

Andrew was a statistical anomaly. He was both a Seer and a Squib, an unfortunate combination of genetic traits that still somehow got him into Hogwarts. He had both hands full babysitting Kevin Day, resident Quidditch prodigy, after the drama with Riko Moriyama in fifth year, and making sure his brother finished his last year of education after the death of their mother. What he did not need was another stray to take in – Neil Hatford, formerly Nathaniel Wesninski, prominent guest in Andrew's prophetic dreams with his blue, blue eyes and death omens flocking to him wherever he went. What he needed even less was to start pretending they were in a relationship, but then, Andrew never had been very interested in doing what was good for him.

Nicky asks, “are you…I mean, what’s happening, Andrew? Are you okay? Because Kevin and Neil were just-” “I know,” Andrew cuts him off. The flat, bored intonation of his voice makes it inexplicably funnier when he adds, “I have unfortunately saddled myself with two idiots who cannot keep it in their pants for more than five minutes at a time” “Well,” Kevin huffs, indignant. “You don’t usually have any complaints”

Twilight is even funnier if you try to imagine how many people probably thought Bella was a vampire. “You’re from Arizona, and you’re skin is STILL that pale?” “Yeah, I can’t be around blood, it makes me…squeamish.” “I know she keeps saying Edward jumped in front of the van and that’s why she’s okay, but that makes even less sense? He wasn’t even near her anyway.” “The hottest guy in school was absolutely mesmerized by her after like a week” I know I promised not to talk about Twilight anymore but the concept that after going to school with the Cullens for however long, it took a week for Bella’s new classmates to jokinglypassaround rumors that She’s The Vampire is a take I never expected and that we needed all along

the thing that pisses me off about 50 shades of grey isn’t that it’s twilight fanfiction, it’s that it’s bad ooc twilight fanfiction. the implication that edward would be into bdsm is so fucking dumb he’s a 100 year old virgin who cried and went into a week-long depression the first time he fucked bella he wouldn’t even consider the idea of fucking her until they were married because he didn’t want to compromise his virtue and you’re telling me he’s a dom? no, edward cullen has the most boring vanilla sex ever the only thing unconventional about the way bella and edward fuck is that bella tops and edward cries the whole time and bella gets fed up and goes to the other house to fuck rosalie and edward cries some more in his room alone

After Eduardo Saverin is kicked out of Facebook, he ends up in Atlantis, growing coffee.

it’s sometimes hard to believe rasputin was real. like there’s no non-fucked up part of rasputin’s existence basic (true) story: fanatical russian monk who has almost never shaved or washed and smells like goats shows up at the russian capital with a creepy look on his beardy face and everyone just assumes he’s a prophet or a saint because he’s got a cult following that believes he can cure illnesses. his stans are sexually obsessed with him and he gets just a fuckton of russian pussy wherever he goes cause apparently he can cure his true believers of illness with god-given dick magic. russia’s queen has him come stay at the palace and sets him up in luxury because she thinks he can cure her son’s haemophilia with the power of russian goat jesus, and they (allegedly) become lovers, probably, ‘cause she craves that unwashed goat-scented dick like the rest of his cult which she now  (allegedly) belongs to.  then the worst assassins in the history of assassinations try to assassinate him, because all of russia is slutshaming the queen he has too much power over the royal family and it’s helping revolutionaries turn people against the royals. so these idiots have him round for tea and cakes which are poisoned with cyanide, but he is magically unaffected by poison they get the dose wrong and he doesn’t die, and then he drinks three glasses of wine, which are also poisoned, and he doesn’t die, so they tell him to look at a crucifix and shoot him in the chest with a revolver when he isn’t looking, and he doesn’t die, but they think he’s dead so one of them dresses in his clothes and gets driven to his apartment to make it look like he’s gone home to hide the crime, and when they come back he gets up and attacks them, so they stab him in the side with a knife, and he doesn’t die, and then he frees himself and runs outside, so they shoot him a few times more, including in the forehead, and they wrap his body up and chuck him in the icy river, and he doesn’t go into the water, so his body is found on the ice the next day. and get this…. he died…. of hypothermia. additionally, everyone who wasnt in the party of getting rid of rasputin was pretty bummed out when they found him and his miracle dick dead the next day and there was a pretty bangin funeral of which the royal family themselves attended. however after the tsar was overthrown a few month later they exhumed his body and burned it because the new leadership was very adamant about making sure there were no ties left to honor the old monarchy. however this dudes body had never been properly prepped for a cremation which meant that under the extreme heat his tendons and ligaments began to retract and shrink causing his dead body to move and twitch around as if still animate. according to some testimony his body actually sat up straight on the pyre, and at least one spectator fired a gun at the body and another may have allegedly died of shock.

a quote from Selected Poems by Margaret Atwood. ‘You sliced me loose  and said it was Creation. I could feel the knife.]

So I’ve decided* that the only thing better than Politician’s Wife Ron Weasley is Ron & Hermione being a devistating political power couple like Ron: I think I might quit and help George run the Wheezes. Hermione: Oh… Well… If you’re sure this is what you want. If you’re sure. Then I guess it’s fine. Ron: …did you involve me in your ten year plans without telling me again? Hermione: You’d be Head Auror and I’d be Minister of Magic and nobody could stop us! Ron: …okay give me the pitch. (Harry is off happily teaching DADA at Hogwarts and scaring kids away from Dark Magic by telling them it’ll make their nose fall off like Voldemort so he’s been written out of Hermione’s plans)

au where uncle aaron doesnt die but he has still just found out his favorite nephew is spiderman so now hes just kinda like :/ damn i guess i gotta be a superhero now its like batman and robin if batman were the sidekick. hes just sort of following miles around dragging his scrawny little butt out of tight spots and yelling encouragement.  Spiderman pulls his phone out during the middle of a fight and is like “Things aren’t going very well, can you come pick me up?” and less than ten minutes later the Prowler crashes his motorcycle into the Green Goblin’s face.

Neil first meets Andrew with a racquet to the stomach in a locker room when he's eighteen. Andrew first meets Neil with a hushed conversation on a beach in California when he's five. They still manage to meet on rooftops, fall in love, find family, and heal together, just not quite at the same time and definitely not in the same order. (In other words, Andrew is the Time Traveler's wife.)

The thing about Harry Potter as a character is that he is insanely observant when he actually cares enough to pay attention. Meaning 90% of the stuff he deems unimportant flies over his head, but he makes these huge leaps of logic and intuition when he bothers to focus. Like in the books when it comes to anything relating to Voldemort or Death Eaters or People Not To Be Trusted (Draco, Umbridge). Growing up, he had to be able to see when a situation was going south long before the frying pan or Dudley’s fists came his way. But he also had to be able to ignore and tune out the constant flow of shit and neglect he was treated to. If you think about it, for all the better aspects of Hogwarts, it still followed this same basic pattern. He had to pay close attention to the things trying to kill him (even classes took a back seat to this), but find a way to ignore and not acknowledge all the rumors and staring and people thinking he’s a prat or the heir of slytherin or a liar. I think this is why the arguments that Harry is a mushroom and notices nothing, and the arguments that he is deductively brilliant can exist side by side. He’s both. It’s also why, in my opinion, he tends to be ridiculously observant of Ginny once he starts to notice her as something important. She barely exists in the early narrative other than Someone to Be Saved. It’s also why Ginny can sometimes feel like she ‘comes from nowhere’ in the narrative. As far as Harry is concerned, she did come from nowhere. The switch in Harry’s brain went from Doesn’t Matter–Ignore to Very Important–Pay Close Attention, and BAM, there she was. Everywhere.

Andrew is a sports photographer with terrible coworkers, Neil is a professional Exy player who mixes reporters' tears with his electrolytes, Nicky thinks Andrew needs a boyfriend, and Kevin just wants to stop ending up as their third wheel.

Wood & Resin jewelry

The Founders have spent the last fifty years separated and drifting, but with Voldemort rising, they're headed back to Hogwarts once more. Between a wary Golden Trio, Umbridge, and Voldemort’s shadowy plans, there's little time to deal with their own problems, even though Godric knows it’s tearing the four of them apart—maybe even irreparably.

Neil is getting used to high school. He ends up getting used to a group of mismatched students, and he gets a little too used to one of them in particular. Maybe enough to go to prom.

How to Inadvertently Woo the Love of Your Life By Being As Irritating As Humanly Possible: An Illustrated Step-By-Step Guide by Nathaniel Wesninski Neil Josten

Traveler noun 1. A person who is traveling or who often travels 2. One member of a linked set, known as a Pair, who can psychically interact with each other across vast distances

“You’ll probably never meet them,” his mother said one day at a diner in Texas. It caught him off guard. “What?” “You’ll probably never meet them,” she repeated, nodding in the direction of the lilac bruise splashed across his forearm. “Your soulmate. You’ll most likely never live that long.” “I know,” he said, and hoped that she believed him. -- In which bruises and scars from your soulmate appear on your skin, and both Neil and Andrew paint each other like a canvas.

Wooden jewelry, Hair accessories for women, hair forks

They are in Spain for the Inquisition where they set fire to their nearly identical commendations, and in France for the Revolution where they both nearly lose their heads. They are in China, in Mexico, in England, in Egypt. They are in the trenches of WWI and the concentration camps of WWII, but the common thread of all of these is that they are together. Angel and demon, side by side, letting the humans write their own history. And if Andrew thinks sometimes of writing his own history down upon Abram's skin, of pressing lips and putting in the effort, of feeling with the one being he trusts... Well, there's just nothing for it. OR Andrew and Neil are an angel and a demon respectively, and they still end up playing Exy.

For Elizabeth, the joy of her marriage and honeymoon are quickly followed by the demands of becoming Mrs. Darcy, all while helping her shy new younger sister come out into society. Georgiana must deal with more suitors than she expected, when she fears nothing more than once again being persuaded to think she is in love with the wrong man.

The fans like it, that’s what their marketing guys say. They say fans love the edge in his manic smile, the crazy that rises in his eyes and Andrew -Andrew can do nothing but laugh. or The Band AU where Andrew and his Monsters learn how to deal with notoriety while performing for an emo, grunge crowd. But what kind of musician has never experienced heartbreak? Not even Andrew, apparently.

“Hey there,” Alec says in the lowest, sexiest voice he can manage. It sounds vaguely disinterested but some people get off on that. “Hi,” the voice says. “Ready to have some fun?” The voice makes a small, sad noise. “Or not?” Alec tries hastily. He gets paid regardless of what they're talking about. “We can just chat for a while.” “What’s your name,” the voice says finally. “Uh, Chad,” Alec says. He was drunk when he picked his name, just as he was drunk when he answered the job wanted ad. He should have picked something sexy like Tristan, but he’s forever Chad now, the douchiest phone sex operator in history. He balances his bowl of macaroni carefully on his stomach and sneaks a quick bite. “You don’t sound like a Chad,” the voice says doubtfully. “Why the hell not?” Alec says before he can stop himself, mouth full of pasta. “--are you eating?” “No,” Alec lies and swallows.   --- Alec is a bored phone sex operator. Bafflingly, Magnus just wants to talk about music.

At thirteen, he’d lived in eleven different cities, gone by as many different names, and seen his reaper twenty-eight times. Some people would have called him lucky.

If you do this just right, you could do it all night.

Andrew and Neil switching phones by accident brings them closer together than either of them anticipated.

“Wait,” Andrew interrupts. “Let’s rewind. You’re writing love songs as a competition?” “Kevin tricked me into it,” Neil mutters into his coffee. - In which Neil Josten's comfortable, predictable life is shaken up by the introduction of love songs, especially because his is meant to be about Andrew Minyard, the barista who manages to write everything but 'Neil' onto his cups and who has, for the past week, been making horse jokes at him because he found out that Neil eats oatmeal. Neil doesn't think that he can write this song about anyone else.

In which Neil Josten is a Time Jumper, and everywhere he goes he keeps seeing one man. Neil's throat dried; the sound of keys rang in his ears, but so did his voice. Andrew Minyard stared back at him, expression inscrutable.