'we really can have it all'

I want to talk for a sec about something that struck me as odd in episode 3

“A few hundred more souls looking for a new home”
“A few hundred more soldiers in the fight against the Galra”

That is a weird line coming from Shiro, not gonna lie. These are refugees they’re talking about, the majority of them probably just regular civilians with no military training. And Shiro’s here assuming they’re all going to join the war effort? Yeah, I’m sure some of them will choose to join the fight, do what they can to overthrow the Galra and take back their homes, but I imagine a lot of them would prefer to live quietly on Olkarion. And who could blame them? They’ve been displaced by the Galra; if they’re coming to Olkarion that probably means their homes have been destroyed, they have very few possessions and in many cases have probably also lost family members or are injured and need care. A lot of them are probably also traumatized by what they’ve been through/what they’ve witnessed. Refugees typically are just looking for stability, a safe place to live, a chance to rebuild their lives far away from war and oppression. Not looking to join an army.

I mean look at them

Old, worn clothing, some of them hunched over, tired, a mix of old and young. These aren’t soldiers. Coran is treating those people like they should be treated: simple refugees looking for safety. Shiro? He’s treating them like… pawns? Or something? Also note that Shiro is never shown directly helping these people, we only see Allura, Hunk, Lance and Pidge.

This implicit assumption on Shiro’s part that all refugees will join the fight is in direct opposition to what he told Keith in season 1

“That’s not how a team works. People have to want to be a part of it. They can’t be forced”

Is Shiro really so desperate for allies that he’ll draft refugees into the war effort without a second thought? He’s seen how big, how powerful the Galra empire is, and he sees how big the Coalition is and he doesn’t like their odds so he’s pulling resources from everywhere he can think? Or could there be something deeper at play here?

Noble, Marred, Vengeful...
( darkiplier )
Noble, Marred, Vengeful...

@weirdmixofweirdness: How does Dark feel about having his origin story revealed?

“So… you know more about my past. (sighs) And it’s there for everyone to witness in that satirical thriller… I don’t fully know if I should feel grateful or not for Mark to release that video project in homage of my existence here. Perhaps it woudl be best to bring my thoughts onto the table, now that this has been made aware to all of you. (takes a deep breath)

At a time, I had been a simple man, living among humankind as if I was one of their own. Life was peaceful for a good few decades, and I felt I could put the memories of my life before that time to the back of my mind. I had power, wealth and most of all, trustworthy associates who I could call my friends. But on that fateful day in the manor, I lost everything. A good ally lost themselves to madness, my closest friend betrayed me, my humanity was stolen, and the woman I most cherished with my heart threw her life on the ley lines of space and time in search for answers.

It’s sickening to see that bastard reincarnated as the YouTuber you see him today. After everything he did, do you still revere him the same way? FOR ALL THE SINS HE COMMITTED?! (calms down) But if it wasn’t for Celine, I wouldn’t be where I am now, or what I am now.

But that name, Damien, had died long ago, along with the life I had back then. I still remember what I said to the poor district-attorney: ‘Life is ours to choose.’ …Is it? Is it really so simple…?”

(A female voice speaks.) “You have a choice here.”

(Dark’s voice returns.) “Why do we need to choose in life… when the choices you make will soon backfire onto you? Humanity can be cruel… and yet, so very foolish…”

(You hear the sound of a wooden object being picked up.) “…This, here, is one of the few reminders I have of that… scenario. I’m amazed it’s still held itself together after all these years. (pauses and breathes out unevenly) But it shouldn’t! (throws it away)

Do me a favor. Look at yourself in the mirror, and leave me be….” (storms off)

The First Time {Chaorene}

So this is Part 2 of the mini-series @tacmc and I have started for Chaorene. You can find the index with the link to Part 1  HERE!

I feel like the title speaks for itself, but, uh, NSFW WARNING, just in case!

Originally posted by couplefeelingz

Yrene stood outside his apartment door, second-guessing herself for the first time in the short month that she’d been seeing Chaol.

From that first night, he’d been all that was on her mind. She would find herself thinking about the curve of his lips or the way his fingers felt trailing along her skin while she was doing her clinicals. While she was walking to class, she would be thinking of the sparkle in his eyes as he laughed at one of her corny jokes. As she studied for her exams, all she could think of was the way he kissed her, how he held himself back, not wanting to push her too far, until she was ready. She could only think of his lips leaving her own, kissing a soft path, down her neck, lingering on the pulse point there. Only think of the soft growl from deep within his throat as he calmed himself.

With a midterm in two days, she knew that he would be holed up in his apartment studying, as she should also be doing, but couldn’t concentrate with him on her mind. So 45 minutes and a trip to the market down the street later, here she was.

With a hesitant hand, she reached up and lightly knocked on the door.

Chaol swung the door open without even looking through the peephole and his breath caught in his lungs.

Even with her hair piled on top of her head and in an oversized t-shirt, Yrene was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. Her backpack was slung over her shoulder and she had a canvas grocery bag hanging from her arm. He took the bag from her and leaning down, gave her a soft kiss on the cheek.

“Well, this is an unexpected surprise,” he said, as she stepped inside and he shut the door behind her.

“I thought maybe we could have dinner and study together.” She smiled up at him and he could feel his heart contract.

In only a few weeks, he had never felt this way about anyone. Whenever her name lit up his phone, he - a grown, adult male - got butterflies. When she sent him a random selfie (which he had received one every single day since the night they went to the street fair), he saved it, loving the fact that his camera roll was filling up with pictures of her. When he kissed her, the world was as it should be and he was where he belonged.

She set her backpack on the floor next to his, his notes and study materials spread out all over the kitchen table. He winced as she headed toward the kitchen. “Of course, we can study together, babe, but we don’t really have anything to make for dinner here. We can always order something.”

With his midterms quickly approaching for Criminal Justice and Dorian’s in Poli Sci, they’d mostly been subsisting on Chinese takeout, delivery pizza and beer the past few weeks. There’d been no time to go to the store, so aside from the go-to condiments that were in every fridge, there was an expired gallon of milk, a half-full carton of eggs and a few packets of string cheese.

Not even pausing to be appalled at the man-children that he and his best friend were, she waltzed into the kitchen and began unpacking the contents of the canvas bag into the fridge. “I know,” she said and he made his way into the kitchen.

Iceberg lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, fresh chicken breasts, spices and seasonings, salad dressings; one by one, she pulled the items out and put them in their home. She looked up at him with a quirked eyebrow and shooed him back over toward the table. “Go study. I’ll cook dinner and then we can eat and take a study break.”

His heart was so full he thought it might beat right out of his chest. He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her temple and murmured, “I love you.”

It wasn’t until he leaned back and saw the surprise in her gold-brown eyes that he realized what he had just said.

Chaol scrambled. “I don’t- What I meant to say is-.”

“I love you, too.”

The whispered response was so quiet, he wasn’t sure he had actually heard it.

“What did you say?” He asked, taking a small step closer to her.

Her eyes, lined with silver, bore into his own. “I said, I love you, too, Chaol Westfall.”

It was as if something snapped between them. Before he could stop himself, Chaol had gathered her in his arms and was kissing her as if his life depended on it. His hands knitted into her hair, cupping the back of her head as her lips devoured his own. His tongue danced along her bottom lip, and with a quiet moan, she granted him entrance.

Hoisting her up, he rested her on the counter and her legs wrapped around his waist. There was no space between them, no place they weren’t touching. Chaol decided that was how he wanted to be for the rest of his life.

He could feel how tight his pants were getting, how he was straining against his zipper. Yrene squirmed, rubbing against him and he fought the groan that tried to escape from low in his throat. He pulled away. Yrene’s usually golden-brown eyes were nearly wholly black, her pupils dilated like he’d never seen before; her lips kiss-swollen and red. “What are you doing?”

He tried to find the words, wanted to explain to her that he wanted nothing more than to worship her body the way she deserved, the way he’d wanted to since the moment he first saw her on her morning jog.

When only his ragged breath warmed her face, she asked, “Is Dorian home?”

He shook his head. Yrene’s cheeks were stained red and the delicate tips of her ears were pink. “He and Manon had a study group in the library.”

Without another word, she grabbed the hem of her t-shirt and lifted it over her head.

Soft, cream-colored lace greeted Chaol. His tongue darted out of his mouth, wetting his lips.

“Yrene…” It came out in a gravelly whisper, and Yrene felt the tone on her core. “We don’t have to, not if you aren’t ready.”

She answered by removing her bra and letting it fall to her lap.

He’d never seen anything more beautiful than the sight of his girlfriend’s gorgeous body. There had been lingering touches and occasional rubs here and there, but it was better than he could’ve dreamed of.

Lifting a hesitant hand, he ran a thumb over her nipple and she arched into him. He kissed her as she began to whimper and moaned as he rolled the pebbled flesh between his thumb and finger.

Dropping his head, he took the other into his mouth and she moaned, her fingers diving into his short hair and nails scratching lightly. He groaned against her breast and bit lightly.

Her hand slipped between their bodies and cupped him through his faded blue jeans. Before he could pull away, her lithe fingers were working the button and pulling the zipper down.

He leaned back and looked into her eyes. “Bedroom?”

“Bedroom,” she agreed, breathlessly.

She moved to hop off the counter but he scooped her into his arms and tossed her over his shoulder. Her laughter filled the quaint two bedroom apartment he’d shared with his best friend since their freshman year of college. “Chaol!”

He headed straight to his room, pausing to scoop her shirt off the kitchen counter. Kicking the door shut behind him, he tossed Yrene onto his bed and pulled his shirt over his head before crawling on top of her.

He kissed her, deeply, lovingly, his tongue exploring and memorizing her mouth, that wicked mouth that he loved so much. She began to shimmy out of her shorts and he helped her, catching another glimpse of cream lace.

“I’ll need to see those later,” he growled, kissing a path down her body. She was completely bare to him and he relished in the feel of her skin on his. He sat up and looked her up and down.

“What?” She whispered, her voice lower than normal. “What are you looking at?”

He pressed a soft kiss in the valley between her breasts. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Heat flared on her skin and Yrene could feel the path it took, from her toes all the way up to her flushed face. She couldn’t wait anymore. Grabbing him by the waistband of his unzipped jeans, she pulled him forward, onto her, and freed him. She stroked his cock, spreading the pearl of wetness from the tip over his length as he buried his face in the side of her neck and groaned. He pressed open-mouthed kisses to her skin and bucked into her hand.

“Someone’s eager,” she cooed into his ear, and was rewarded with a growl before his lips were pressed against hers again, the need coursing through him causing him to kiss her more fiercely than ever before.

His hand danced down her side, gliding over the smooth planes of her stomach before it reached the light dusting of hair at the apex of her thighs.

“Open up for me,” he breathed against her lips, and she obliged him.

His fingers touched her, feather-light at first, sliding against the warm wetness of her entrance. He slipped one long finger inside of her. They both groaned; she from the feeling of him finally inside of her; he from the way she clenched around him, how tight she was for him. Moving slowly, he let her adjust to the feeling before carefully adding a second finger. Her arms wrapped around his back as he pumped his fingers in and out of her. She moaned quietly, a noise Chaol knew he’d never tire of. Pulling his fingers out, he circled one around her clit, oh, so slowly, and her hips bucked against his hand. She whimpered and whispered, “Chaol, please.”

That was all he needed. He kicked his jeans off and reached into his nightstand, grabbing a condom. He ripped the corner of the foil packet open with his teeth and was about to put it on when Yrene’s slim hands stopped him. “Let me,” she said, her eyes sparkling in the setting sun streaming through the window.

She took the condom from him and pumped him once, twice, three times. His head rolled back and a quiet “Fuck,” tumbled from his lips. He felt her slip the condom over the head and then a wet warmth was around him. He glanced down to see her mouth on him, slipping the condom on with her lips. He groaned and fought the urge to grip the back of her head and pump into her mouth.

Once he was covered from base to tip, she laid back on the bed and spread her legs for him, showing him the perfection that was her pussy. She was practically dripping for him.

Crawling over her, he positioned himself at her slit, rubbing the head over her entrance and her clit, causing her to squirm impatiently. “I love you,” he whispered, pressing into her, farther and farther into her wetness. “More than anyone has ever loved before.”

Soft gasps left her lips as he pushed inside of her. She couldn’t form a coherent thought as filled her up. And kept filling her up. She was sure she wouldn’t be able to take it all. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” was all she could say.

As he settled fully between her legs, pressed in to the hilt, he let a soft groan fall from his lips. She was so gods damned tight, but he fit inside her perfectly. It was as if he were made for her, and she for him.

Chaol pulled back and pressed into her again, eliciting a moan from her lips. He circled his hips and pushed back in, harder than he had and repeated he motion. Yrene’s soft cries turned into moans and whimpers and she hooked her legs around his waist. Her feet dug into his backside, urging him onward; harder; faster.

As he thrust into her, they stared into each other’s eyes. The love between the two was clear and no words were needed; their heavy breathing and the sound of slapping skin the only noises.

Chaol leaned down and took a pert nipple between his teeth, lightly tugging, causing her to cry out in pleasure. He felt her clench around his cock and sucked it into his mouth. She squeezed him even tighter and he moaned onto her breast.

Without warning, she pressed a hand to his chest and pushed him back. He leaned back in alarm. “Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

Without a word, sat up, rolled over and sat up on her knees. She glanced at him over her shoulder, tendrils of loose curls in her eyes that had fallen from her bun. The primal, male feeling that coursed through Chaol’s veins was so strong, he couldn’t have stopped the growl that ripped from his throat if he wanted to.

Gripping her hips, he pushed into her wetness roughly and as one, they moaned. The new position allowed him to fuck her harder, deeper. Yrene could feel every solid inch of him pulsing inside of her, and she knew it wasn’t going to take her long to finish at the rate he pounded into her. She felt his hand loosely grip her hair and she tipped her head back for him. He pressed kisses down the length of her spine and as he pumped into her, she felt herself getting closer and closer to the edge.

As if he could sense it, his other hand slipped between her thighs, rubbing the sensitive nub and causing her to cry out.

“I’m close, baby,” she whimpered, her arms quivering beneath her.

He responded with a gruff whisper. “Hold on for me, baby, I’m almost there.”

She could feel it, too. The way his thrusts were becoming more erratic; the way his hips snapped against her backside; how his fingers moved back to her hips and kneaded the soft flesh there.

He kept circling her clit and she couldn’t hold out much longer. The need to come was overwhelming and when he leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Cum for me, babe,” she shattered. Crying out, she rode out her orgasm, pushing back against him, as she felt him twitch and spill himself into the condom.

Chaol had never cum so hard in his entire life. Not only had the sex been mind-blowing, but her pussy had milked him for all that he was worth. He collapsed next to her where she lay face down on the bed, panting, trying to catch his breath. He gathered her in his arms and pressed a kiss to her sweaty temple.

“Wow,” she whispered, eyes sparkling as she looked at him.

“Wow,” he repeated, smiling.

“I guess you don’t need that study break now,” she mused and he laughed, tightening his hold on her.

They laid there, carelessly kissing and sharing soft touches here and there until the front door opened and they heard Dorian say “Why is there a bra hanging from the silverware drawer?”

They didn’t even try to stifle their laughter.

anonymous asked:

Can we please have X or S for Elorcan? Thanks!

1. thanks for the prompt nonnie! 2. Sorry I took so long to respond! 3. I may or may not have stared at this prompt all this time because I JUST DON’T KNOW MAN

Edit: I took it too far oops. Is someone surprised? Also I didn’t even get to the lingerie because I was too focused on The Sex. Also I pretty much see Elide just wearing Lorcan’s clothes 24/7 and him constantly aroused from it, so there you go.

X- First time S- Lingerie 

-So, we know that Elide is Thirsty for Lorcan- she was making all the moves after all. But the thing is, she has very, very little experience. I mean she spent the majority of her life locked up with her nursemaid and then was a slave with the sole focus of surviving. What I’m saying is, these circumstances don’t really lend to the opportunity to even discover your own body. I’m not saying that Elide hasn’t had an orgasm, but I think it’s safe to say those times are few and far between.

-Lorcan… on the other hand… Mr. Horny… has 500 years worth of very active experience. 

-As much as I would love their first time to be one of those “heat of the moment” type things after an argument or something, I think it would actually start off quite slow. After Aelin comes back and after Elide has started to thaw again towards Lorcan, they start sleeping in the same room. For the comfort of being close and knowing where the other one is. 

- One night they enter their room after a particularly stressful day and after changing into comfortable clothes Elide becomes quiet and stands staring out the window. Lorcan comes up behind her and places his hands on her shoulders. “Elide?”, her shoulders drop as she says, “How are any of us supposed to make it out of this alive?” 

-“This war is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. But so is the amount of power we have on our side.” He doesn’t try to convince her that it will be fine, that no one will die, or that they’ll even win. He knows her better than that. “Sleep with me tonight”. Lorcan’s hands tighten involuntary. “…What?”.. “I- I mean in the same bed. Sleep in my bed tonight.”

-They lie there facing each other and after a few moments Lorcan sees his hand lift to stroke Elide’s hair. He’s trying to take in every inch of her face to dedicate it to memory. Her eyes keep roving over his face too. He opens his mouth to speak but she beats him. “I love you.” His eyes widen, utter shock painting his features. “Elide-” she cuts him off, “you dont have to say anything. I just needed you to hear it.”

-He moves his hand to cup her cheek, leaning in closer. “Elide, you have turned my world upside down. You are the strongest, most beautiful person I have ever met. I have never, never loved anyone more than I love you”

-It’s hardly any movement at all before she’s kissing him, a hand on his chest. She grabs the back of his neck and drags him forward, pulling him over her. And it’s like they are back in the marshes, his body a heavy weight between her legs. He’s panting just as much as she is, and when he drags his mouth away to lick and nip and suck at her jawline, under her ear, her throat- he starts saying her name over and over and over again.

- It takes him a moment to realize that she’s moved her hands and is tugging on the hem of her shirt, exposing more and more of her pale stomach until he stills them with a growl, “What are you doing”. “I don’t want to wait- I don’t want to take our time. I want this. I want you.”

-His hands fall away and she loses sight of him for a moment as her shirt goes over her head. It takes every ounce of her willpower to avoid crossing her arms over her chest. But when she looks him in the eyes, she realizes that he’s looking into her eyes instead of at her breasts. 

-When he finally looks, and touches, and trails his mouth over her, he takes his time. He works slowly, methodically, until she’s begging him for more. Eventually she grabs the collar of his shirt to pull it over his head.

-After trailing his tongue around her bellybutton, his fingers brush the hem of her pants and he looks up at her. “Please,” is all she says. He slowly drags them down her body and once she’s free of them, he rubs her calves in soothing sweeps, telling her how beautiful she is. 

-”Now you.” She wants to see him, wants them to be even in this- with him as vulnerable as she is. When he takes off his pants, he continues to gaze at her, kneeling between her thighs and aching everywhere. She stares unabashedly between his legs, feeling very uncertain all of the sudden. He cups her face, kissing her, “Elide, let me make you feel good. I want to kiss you everywhere. Let me taste you.” He pulls back enough to look in her eyes as she says, “yes.”

-He moves down her body and finally takes in the view before him while brushing his lips up and down the inside of her thigh. She’s glistening and pink, and when he strokes near her folds Elide’s leg falls a bit wider. Even though he feels like he’s about to combust, he continues his slow pace until he finally tastes her. Slides a finger inside her while licking her in broad sweeps. Moans and whimpers escape her, sounding as if she’s shocked at her own response. When he adds a second finger and focuses his tongue on her clit, her hand shoots out to squeeze his shoulder. “Lorcan, oh gods.”

-When she comes, she throws her head back, her breathing out of control as she cries out. He works her back down again and when he removes his fingers he sucks them clean, his eyes closed. She grabs at him and crushes her mouth against his. 

-He lays down beside her and hefts her over him, placing her astride him. He urges her to rock back and forth against him. And when his hands cup her hips to show her the movement, his cock slips between her lips, pressed between her body and his stomach. Her wetness coats him and she bends over, kissing him and then burying her face in his neck as she continues to grind against him. Now he’s panting and moaning, squeezing his eyes shut- to dull the madness of the pleasure or relish in it he’s not sure.

-When they’re both desperate and she pleads his name, he tells her that she can ease onto him at her own pace if she so chooses. She sits up, a hand braced on his stomach, and lifts his cock to place it at her entrance. She tries to position her hips, tries to lower herself, but she flinches and her shoulders tighten up. He strokes her legs and encourages her to go slow, to take her time.

-When he’s slipped in a couple inches, her hand clenches on his stomach and her eyes are squeezed shut. “Lorcan.” She has a kind of desperate edge to her voice and he lifts her chin to look at him. “Lorcan. I… I need- I can’t-” “Elide, please, my love, we don’t have to do this tonight, we can do whatever you-” “No, I want this. I just- I don’t know how to…” she trails off. “Do you want me to?” “Yes. Please”

-”I’ll be right back sweetheart” Lorcan says as he crawls off the side of the bed. As he rifles around for the jar he’s looking for, he takes a second to calm his breathing. He realizes that he’s nervous and jittery in a way he hasn’t been in a very, very long time. Elide is… everything, and he’s terrified he’s going to hurt her, that he’s going to ruin everything, again.

-When he finds what he’s looking for, he turns around and see’s that she’s lying on her side, facing him, a hand propped on an elbow. He stops cold, feeling some of that nervous energy wash away at how utterly beautiful she looks naked before him. They share a sweet little smile, and he comes back to bed to lie on his side too, facing her. He kisses her, hitching one leg over his, while one of his goes between her legs. They press against each other, Elide sighing into his mouth. He reaches behind him to grab the jar, and she breaks away to look down at it. 

-”This is going to help us a little, alright?” She nods, and he twists off the lid, scooping some out onto one hand and screwing the lid back on with the other so he can toss it over his shoulder. He reaches between them, easing his fingers between her legs, rubbing against her and kissing her neck. 

-At first, the salve feels cool against Elide’s skin, but it soon warms between them, and Elide feels her heartbeat pick up again as Lorcan’s fingers work their way into her, rubbing against every part of her, back and forth. When he pulls his fingers back, she opens her eyes to see him grabbing her leg and hitching her leg higher, pulling her body closer to his. Then his hand is gripping himself, gliding the tip of him against her. She lifts her leg higher to help him and when she feels him pressing into her she looks up. His eyes are blazing into hers and she feels his other hand around her back, the fingertips pressing into her skin.

-She wraps her arms around him, pressing her face into his neck. He pushes in a couple inches and pauses. “Elide, talk to me love, I don’t want to hurt you.” She squeezes him harder at the vulnerability in his voice, “Keep going, just go slow.” His hips tilt, and Elide can feel the pressure increasing inside her. She forces herself to take controlled, deep breaths and hears Lorcan murmuring in her ear. “That’s it. Gods, I love you Elide. You feels so good.”

-Eventually he moves his hand away and wraps it around lower back, his hand resting on one cheek. He begins rocking his hips, the smooth glide easing him in further and Lorcan feels like he may actually explode. Elide is panting against his shoulder and she pulls back enough to drag heated kisses against his mouth, both of them breathless enough that it’s little more than an exchange of air. “Are you alright?” “Yes”

-Lorcan tucks the arm underneath him between her legs, his hand against his pelvis so that his knuckles begin to drag against Elide’s clit. She moans and he pulls her hips closer. They rock together that way, finding their rhythm until Elide cries out and presses her forehead against his. When he feels her contract around him, he realizes that this slow love making is all it’s going to take, that this closeness and her tight squeeze around him is all it’s going to take to make him come too. 

-They remain that way, tangled up together for what feels like hours, seconds. They move only slightly, repositioning their legs, Lorcan’s arm under Elide’s neck, when sleep drags them both under.

spontaneodancer  asked:

Hey There! I'm from Brazil and I love your texts so much! <3 <3 If you wish, can you make a scenario for Domestic!Eiji with his kids? I've read all those stories with dad Baku but just uncle Eiji. This boy need some love

Hello, from the USA! Thank you for the support, my dear! I love my international followers. I hope you enjoy this~ also psa this trash is what happens when you have an exam but you still wanna put something out for best boy’s birthday

Kirishima trudges through the door with tired heavy shoulders. He kicks off his shoes, haphazardly throwing them by the door. A heavy sigh fall from his lips. He scratches his scalp, ruffling the red locks that had fallen out of their gelled stated hours ago. Kirishima drags his feet through his house, weighed down by the fatigue stinging in his muscles. He groans when he falls face first into the living room sofa. It’s strange. He’s been dreaming about this moment all day, this exact moment, falling into the plush cushions and letting out a low groan.

He can’t even move, much less think as his eyelids become heavy with sleep. He sighs again. This day … this damn day.


Soft snores falling from his lips as his chest rises in an even pattern. Kirishima can’t remember a time when he’s been this tired … exhausted … drained. He can’t drum up a recent memory. 


At least the agency let him go home early today. In fact, they insisted upon it, nearly pushing him out of the door with his bag in hand. Although Kirishima had no idea why, he didn’t object even though he normally would’ve. He just wanted to get home today … home to you, his son, his sofa …


He groans feeling the pressure of two little hands pushing on his side. Kirishima’s blearily opens his eyes to the messy black hair and (e/c) eyes of his little boy.

“Hey, Yuu,” he yawns as he brings a hand up to ruffle Eiyuu’s hair, “What’s up, little man?”

“Papa, wake up!”

“Ah, Yuu, let Papa sleep, please. I’m really tired, buddy. We can play later if you want.”

“No, Papa. Wake up now!”

“Yuu …”

“Papa!” Eiyuu whines, pressing on Kirishima’s side harder, “Mama has cake! Wake up!”

“Wait, why does (Name) has cake?” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes, “And wait … why … why did the agency let me off early today …”

Kirishima bolts upwards when he sees you walk into the living room with cake in hands and a gentle smile on your face. He pales. He forgot. How could he forget? He immediately hops to his feet, stumbling slightly as his aching legs struggle to support him. He scratches his the back of his head nervously as he fumbles for words. You hold your hand up, and your husband silences. 

“Before you start freaking out, it’s not our anniversary,” you say, setting the cake down on the coffee table, “It’s your birthday, silly.”

He blinks, “My … my birthday?”

“Cake!” Eiyuu cheers, staring at the white and red frosting.

“Yes, it’s your birthday,” you grin as you peck him on the lips, “Eiyuu, why don’t you give Papa the gift you made.”

Your son looks at you then back at the cake once more before trotting off to his room. Kirishima sighs, plopping back on the couch. You sit next to him and rest your head on his chest. His arms wraps around you, drawing you closer to him. You turn his head with your hands and place a sweet kiss on his lips. Kirishima blinks at you with wide eyes like he doesn’t really believe that today is actually his birthday.

“Did … did Yuu really make me something for my birthday?”

“He did.”

“And you didn’t tell him to?”

“I did not. Just wait. I think you’re going to love this.”

Eiyuu returns with a piece of paper carefully held in his hands. He stands before the sofa, unmoving and looking from parent to parent. Kirishima removes his arm from around you and rests his elbows on his knees, suddenly feeling the fatigue lift from his body as he looks down at Eiyuu

“Yuu, do you have a present for me?” he asks. 

Eiyuu doesn’t respond. He climbs onto the couch, wedging his way in between you and your husband, still holding the his paper as delicately as his three-year-old hands can. 

“Here,” Eiyuu says, presenting paper, “I drawed it by myself.”

Kirishima gently takes the drawing from his tiny hands, staring at it lovingly. Well … “drawing” is a bit generous. It more resembles three messily drawn scribbles. One, with crazy red spikes sticking from the top, the other with unruly (h/c) squiggles, and the final blob in middle with wild black strands popping out. Eiyuu looks at Kirishima, trying to gauge his expression. 

Kirishima grins, “You did this all by yourself? For Papa?”


“Yuu! This is so good! I love it! Wow, I’ve got to show everyone at work!”


“Absolutely, buddy! This is my favorite gift ever and I’m gonna put this on my desk so everyone can see my awesome family!” he praises, wrapping his arms around the you and his son. 

Eiyuu grins back and shows off the razor sharp teeth he undoubtedly inherited from his father. Kirishima laughs, squeezing his family. He can’t even feel the heaviness in the arms. He doesn’t even remember feeling tired. All he can feel is the warmth spreading throughout his chest and the two people he loves most in his arms.

“Mama, can we have cake now?”

“I don’t know, baby. It’s Papa’s birthday cake so you should ask him.”

“Papa, can we have cake now?”

“Absolutely, little man.”

“Eiyuu, remember what we say to Papa first?”

“Oh, yeah! Happy birthday, Papa!”

“Happy birthday, Eijirou.”

“Thanks, guys. This really is the best birthday ever.”

Why can’t we all just

Gather all the ships!! Klance, Sheith, Hance, Allurance!! Rarepairs!! Bring them all!

Let’s all have a seat and y'know have some tea!

Everyone would just chat about cute headcanons about their ships together!!

And there’s no fighting! Just support! Support their headcanons and AUs! Hell, even give them a few ideas or suggestions of your own!


“Honestly I feel like Klance would really work if the setting was in an autumn month. The falling leaves, bundling up, decorating for the holidays? Cute shit amirite?”

“That is cute!! Honestly I had the same idea, but with Allurance, they would just curl up by the tv with hot cocoa and watch movies!”

“I see Kidge as the type of couple to have a full out fucking war in the leaves”

“Omg that would be adorable”

“Okay but hance? Grocery shopping for Thanksgiving. Hell yeah, Hunk’s gonna teach his bf the ways of the kitchen.”

“What if Shiro took Keith shopping for warm clothes, but he just refused to wear all the knitted things bc Shiro says it ‘looks adorable on him’”

“These are all adorable and someone should write these down”

Why can’t the fandom just get along and support each other’s ships instead of hating each other for them??

My two cents on FTWD

I don’t understand how everyone is so upset. Troy was the most interesting character on the show how can people ignore that? Just seeing him as “an attractive white boy” is ridiculous and whats even more ridiculous is calling fans of his character racist. Jake was beautiful… but he was also boring and white as hell.

But for a POC that type of character criticism doesn’t change either. It’s all about personality, Chris became a stagnant psychopath and he became kinda bland to me, but not from what his skin color was? And on the contrary Travis and Ophelia were also POC and I wish we could have seen more of them because I think they could have had really badass character arcs. And while Madison is the absolute worst person I want to see on screen now. I will forever love strand and Daniel. Alicia is obviously awesome and I just can’t wait to see more of this Diana character.

Also Nick (frank dillane) is biracial??? He’s like the best/most obsessed over character on FTWD (besides Alicia)


#Troy was racist but loving him as a character on a fake tv show does not also make his fans racist… this isn’t real life folks, this is televison made for entertainment. It’s about interpreting the art within that, not the hate

So how can people totally ignore the incredible underlying story metaphor here? About the Americans coming in to take the Native Americans land. In the end it was that it WAS TROYS HOME AND MADISON CAME AND TOOK IT FROM HIM

Hello. The irony makes me want to cry. Troys ancestors took Takas ancestors’ homeland with death and violence and this season showed how history repeats itself

Madison wanted the cliche “American dream” and Troy just wanted his homeland back for his people

#this land is your land, this land is my land

#I really hope Troy isn’t dead and one day comes back for Nick because their relationship was the most powerfully intimate dynamic I’ve seen in a while romantic or not

Look at them. Magnets of psychotic light and mad darkness #holy cow im so emo I’ll stop now

anonymous asked:

(1//2) DAD HI!! Can we have a head canon where yoongi is part of this cool clique in high school and his gang play dares on asking people out to then break their victims heart (Typical heartbreaker au) So yoongi is dared to date tae but the longer he spends time with tae he actually seriously falls in love. Like when they’re having sex it’s no longer a useless fling. But then tae overhears Hobi and joon asking yoongi when he’s going to complete the dare and break tae’s heart and so tae

The really sad thing about this all is that it starts because Yoongi and his friends have the wrong image of Taehyung from the beginning.

Taehyung himself is pretty popular too. He’s not Yoong’s type of popular per say, he’s not the whole bad boy too cool for school kind of popular, but he is pretty well known. Like, he’s on the cheer team and he’s also the leader of the anime club and softball team. He spends his free time in between classes and during lunch running around the cafeteria saying hello to everyone and anyone that looks in his direction and Yoongi and his friends take that the wrong way.

Or more so, Hoseok is the one to take it wrong.  Yoongi just agrees, which really is just as bad.

“You know, that Kim Taehyung kid is popular too right?”

Hoseok is the first one to really mention Taehyung to Yoongi. They’re sitting at their own table in the back and taking turns drinking sips of some vodka they managed to sneak into the school and Yoongi really couldn’t give two shits but still, he responds.

“Yeah I guess so, what about it?”

Hoseok gets that little glimmer in his eyes he only really gets when he’s up to no good and Namjoon, who sits next to them, shivers.

“Popular stuck-up cheerleader bitch, I bet he spreads his legs for more than just the splits during practice.”

Yoongi actually laughs at that but Namjoon interrupts.

“He’s friends with Jimin and Seokjin, mochi told me once that Taehyung’s only spread them for one boy and it was some sob fest after. Though he’s a cheerleader so it’s probably bullshit.”

That’s really all Hoseok needs to smirk and drop two hundred dollars on the table in front of them. Yoongi, of course, is suddenly interested.

“The first one that can get good boy over there to spread those pretty thighs and break his heart gets this.”

Actually getting Taehyung to agree on a date is a lot easier than Yoongi thought it would be. Though, that’s only because he doesn’t know about the fact that Taehyung’s had the biggest crush on him since his freshman year. It’s only two weeks after the bet has been made. Yoongi has seen both Hoseok and Namjoon try and fail to get Taehyung’s attention and he figures he might as well try for the fuck of it.

He remembers he actually shares his art class with Taehyung, despite being older than him, and he figures he’ll try there.  Normally he’d spend that class in the back of the room drawing and listening to music but this time he decides casually stroll up to Taehyung’s table. The younger seems too lost to notice him at first as he works on some painting, but Taehyung’s seatmate instantly stiffens.

“Move it, asshole.”  Yoongi motions to the boy sitting beside Taehyung and the boy darts away quickly, leaving the seat open for Yoongi to take.

“That’s pretty.”

Taehyung finally manages to notice Yoongi when he nudges the boy’s arm gently and the younger quickly blushes when he notices who is next to him.


“Your painting,” Yoongi motions with his head to the sheet in front of Taehyung covered in blues and yellows. “It’s pretty.”

Taehyung beams so wide, for a moment Yoongi feels something in his chest hitch at the sight.

“Thank you! It’s a replica of Van Gogh’s Starry Night, it’s my favorite work by him. It’s just so pretty”

Yoongi nods.

“You’re prettier. You should let me take you to the art museum today after school.”

Honestly, Yoongi doesn’t plan on falling for the cheerleader.

He’s always lived his life by a motto that’s pretty simple to him. No one was going to tie down or steal Min Yoongi’s heart and make him weak. Kim Taehyung, though, is just that good at breaking down his walls and it’s so fucking scary to him how easy that happens.

Their first date to the art museum is pretty much what he expected it to be. It’s kind of awkward as they take the bus together to the large building and Taehyung stutters more than Yoongi’s ever heard anyone do everytime he talks about something. Still, he finds it cute. He thinks Kim Taehyung is actually pretty fucking adorable and he even makes sure to the younger as he laces their fingers together halfway into their date.

They have another date not too long after that one. This one to Yoongi’s favorite burger place. They spend it pretty well actually. Taehyung spends a lot of time smiling and giggling at the shitty jokes Yoongi makes and the way the elder shit talks people as they walk by their table. They talk about each other, or really, Taehyung talks about himself and Yoongi listens while trying not to notice the way Taehyung blushes as they hold hands.

More and more dates just seem to follow from there.

Yoongi takes Taehyung to the skatepark and offers the younger his first joint, which Taehyung struggles to hold has he coughs his lungs out after his first hit. They make out in the empty ramps later that same night when everyone has cleared and Yoongi had cut Taehyung off from some story.

Taehyung takes Yoongi to see some shitty anime movie that comes out not too long after that and spends the night teasing Yoongi for falling asleep halfway in and drooling on his shoulder. Yoongi rolls his eyes but smirks, slightly lovingly, at the way Taehyung giggles when he finds some of the popcorn pieces he tossed at Yoongi in the elder’s hair.

Literally, a few weeks go by and it’s just them hanging out every day together do some sort of adventure.

Yoongi takes Taehyung to the clubs he sometimes raps in for fun and gets high off the way the younger watches him with wide amazed eyes as he gets off stage. Taehyung takes Yoongi to one of his cheer practices and Yoongi is just as amazed to see the way the younger can jump and be tossed and fold himself in half for routines. Yoongi takes Taehyung to his first official concert, Epik High of course, and they spend the entire night with their hands locked firmly together as they scream lyrics and Yoongi that night kisses Taehyung softer than any way he’s ever kissed, anyone.

Three months later and Yoongi gets a call from a sobbing Taehyung, too late into the night.

At this point, Yoongi knows he’s fucked.

Taehyung has managed to squeeze and thread himself deep into the cracks inside of Yoongi and it’s obvious to him by the way he instantly shoves on jeans and shoes and runs out of his house when the younger asks him to meet at a park nearby his house without even thinking.  Taehyung just looks and sounds so broken the moment Yoongi sees him, sitting on the swings and holding himself tightly, he doesn’t even question himself before pulling the boy into his arms and hugging him to his chest tightly.

They make love that night.

They find themselves back in Yoongi’s bed, curled tightly against each other, and Taehyung’s eyes are red and puffy from his tears but the moment the boys ask Yoongi to make him forget about whatever hurt him. Yoongi does exactly that.

Yoongi makes love to Taehyung. Yoongi thrust deep into Taehyung and listens to the way Taehyung sobs “I love you’s” into his neck as he holds onto him tightly. He fucks Taehyung slow and deep and keeps their hands locked together no matter what and he knows he’s fucked up.  

Of course, karma would be the bitch that makes Taehyung find out about the bet only three weeks after that.

Yoongi happens to be sitting at his table with Hoseok and Namjoon for the first time in a while since he’s started dating Taehyung and of course, he knows they’re going to bring up the bet the moment they see his neck covered in marks. He’s not wrong either.

“Well well well look who we have here Joon!” Hoseok smirks as Yoongi takes his seat beside him. “Mr dumb and in love has graced us with his presence.”

Namjoon remains silent as Yoongi rolls his eyes and really, he should have been paying attention. Really, he should have known Taehyung would come looking for him during his lunch to eat together. He should have known he didn’t deserve to have nice things like Taehyung.

“So I guess I owe you this.” Hoseok hands him the two hundred dollars form before. “I mean you didn’t really do the whole break his heart part of the bet but you did clearly fuck the cheerleader bitch so it’s yours, man.”

The sound of a tray falling right behind him makes Yoongi jump and he knows he’s so fucked the moment he turns and sees Taehyung staring at him with the same sad eyes he had the night Yoongi ran to him. He knows he’s done the worst thing he could do the moment Taehyung’s eyes lock with his and he sees nothing but hurt and disappointment and the hardest part of it all is that Taehyung still smiles at him.

Taehyung still gives him that small little smile that he reserved for only Yoongi before he turns around and walks away.

Yoongi expects the punch Jimin gives him the next day.

The younger, despite being Namjoon’s boyfriend, clearly cared more about Taehyung than anyone ever had and Yoongi knew it would come eventually. Though, if he were, to be honest, he thought for a moment it would come from Taehyung.

Of course, he was wrong.

He knew Taehyung better than that. Taehyung would never hurt him. Taehyung would never physically or mentally cause him any harm because Taehyung wasn’t fucked up like Yoongi. He actually loved the elder. No, Taehyung wouldn’t hit Yoongi because Yoongi held his heart and so he let Jimin to the hitting while he pretending like Min Yoongi never existed in his life.

For a minute, Yoongi isn’t sure which hurts more.

Is it the hit that gives him a black eye that hurts him more or is it the way Taehyung, still clearly broken and hurt, smiles and acts as if nothing’s wrong. Is the blackness around his swollen eye more painful than the way he crosses paths with Taehyung only to have the younger stiffen for a few seconds before he continues on as if he never saw Yoongi there?

The answer is pretty obvious in the way his heart lurches painfully every day he’s forced to see Taehyung try to smile at his friends jokes as if Yoongi wasn’t right there in the same fucking art room with him.

And then it hits him.

The art room.

Starry Night.

The way Taehyung had lit up at the art museum when they had found Van Gogh’s work and Yoongi had listened to the younger go on and on about the love he had for the artist.

Yoongi suddenly finds a fight in him he hasn’t felt before. There’s almost like a monster inside of him that screams for him to fight for Taehyung. It’s ugly and loud and it claws at his fingers and throat and demands he gives the boy the world he deserves even if it leaves him with nothing and so Yoongi leaves the school to find the nearest paint store with a plan forming in his mind.


The next day and all the younger wants to do is get through his classes so he can go home and hide in one of Yoongi’s hoodies he still has and cry.   Too bad though, Jungkook won’t let him do that as he locks his hands around Taehyung’s wrist and pulls him along the school’s hallway.  

Really, for a moment, Taehyung has no idea what the big deal is. Until they turn into the hallways where his locker is and he notices the giant crowd of students formed around the giant white wall across from his locker especially. His eyebrows furrow and he looks at Jungkook for an explanation but the younger just pushes him forward and smiles.

Taehyung finds the break knocked from him as he finally is able to get through the crowd to see the wall better.

His entire world tilts and his heart clenches and he feels tears instantly filling his eyes and he knows. He knows this was Yoongi. There was no one else it could be. There was no one else crazy enough to spray paint his portrait, with his messy brown hair and his eyes shut as tears fell from deep black lashes, with Van Gogh’s Starry Night surrounding him in an almost galaxy way, as if it revolved around Taehyung.

This was Yoongi and when he turns, Taehyung sees him already watching him.

“I fucked up,” Yoongi speaks, ignoring everyone but Taehyung. “ It was a bet at first.”

Taehyung flinches at the honesty.

“It was a bet and I fucked up but…It was all real.”


Taehyung tries to speak, really he does, but Yoongi is fast in locking their hands together.

“Every kiss, every hug, that night at the concert, that night in the park. It was all so fucking real and this,” Yoongi motions to the painting. Taehyung’s sob catches in his throat as he takes a look at it again before moving his eyes back to Yoogni’s. “This is my world. You once said Starry Night was your favorite well, you’re my favorite everything and I love you.”

Taehyung’s and Yoongi’s kiss is salty with tears and it’s messy from the way Taehyung’s lips tremble with the need to sob but it’s heaven after weeks without the other.

“I love you.” Taehyung whispers. “Please show me I’m not making a mistake.”

Winter Idol // m.y 1

Member: Min Yoongi

Chapter One

Genre: a bit of everything

Summary: working with one of your best friends of years shouldn’t come with so much hatred. With your career sky rocketing along side his everything should run smoothly until jealousy and rumors take place.

Originally posted by tearsavi


I’ve always been one to read stories about how one person loves the other a little too much and how they can’t be together…. And some come together at the end while the others don’t. We have always been the friends who really enjoyed fall and winter times. I call it winter meanwhile he calls it fall. He always finds humor in correcting me when I say they’re the same thing but he wants to be all scientific with it. We are truly on odd pair.

I met Yoongi back in 2013 again he says it was 2012, technically it was, late December was when I met him, along side Namjoon. At the time I didn’t know who they were or what they did, just a normal Friday night at the underground tunnels shooting shows. That’s what I do. I also didn’t know what kind of things they were about to get me into, and how my life alongside theirs would change for the better in the years to come. Fast forward to today. 2017 was the best year for BTS.

“Y/N? Are you on board or are we taking up too much of your time?” I look up and Lay is looking at me with humor laced in his voice.

“We go through the same stuff every tour ya know but yes I am don’t worry.” I send him a smile and he rolls his eyes as the guys all laugh at my statement.

Currently we are at the BigHit offices working on ways to improve and plan the next tour for BTS the public’s reactions have risen so much and the fan base has risen so much. I question myself how I got so lucky to be in this position but if it weren’t for yoongi believing in my talent I wouldn’t have been here. I’m in charge of all art forms for BigHit Entertainment that’s including video, media, press, concert visuals, and most importantly photography. I’ve always had a passion for it and I think that’s what made me and yoongi so attached, loving the same things. I moved to Korea not really by choice, well I lie kind of my choice and I’m glad I did or else I would’ve never met the people I know today.

“Yo y/n are you coming back to the dorms with us or what.” Everyone is packing up and I look towards hoseok with his beaming smile. I don’t even get a chance to answer because Lay clears his throat quite loudly.

“Sorry but me and y/n have something to do tonight you guys go ahead.” I fake a small smile and that gets them to leave without any questions. Hoseok comes to hug goodbye as the rest wave walking out the door.

“y/n we’ve been through this already.” Lay sighs.

“Lay I really am not doing anything wrong, you act like I’m walking down the aisle with them.” I roll my eyes as I look at their manager.

“And I believe you but the media has increased their eyes on the boys and you know the fans have increased we just don’t want any dating rumors surfacing.”

“Dating rumors? You have got to be kidding me.”

“No I am not. You have always been seen with them hugging and laughing and holding hands and-“

“Oh my god! Once! Holding hands once! And that was because I tripped so yoongi had to help me up at the airport where they were getting mobbed might I add.” I can’t believe he was saying this shit honestly.

“Listen y/n I’m not saying stop hanging out with them okay. I’m just saying please be careful if anything happens I wouldn’t forgive myself. The guys have worked so hard in everything and you have as well. I don’t want a little mistake to ruin it all. Okay?” Lay places his hands on my shoulders and I nod my head. “I’m gonna grab my stuff you don’t have to wait okay?”

Walking to your place isn’t far from the building. You pass multiple little shops and restaurants making a quick stop inside one of them. Living in a foreign country by yourself is lonely. The only friends you have are the guys and of course some other idols, but they’re super busy it being comeback season for most of them. Getting home was the best feeling because you can just lay there and enjoy some snacks. It was October. The weather in Korea was quickly changing dropping degrees and you couldn’t be happier. Walking inside the kitchen you put the kettle onto the stove to boil some water for tea. Walking to the living room you switched on the t.v and turned a candle on as well. The doorbell rang and you didn’t really know what to expect since you didn’t agree to meet with anyone. You walked to the door and see him with two bags of food and his hair tucked inside his beanie. You open the door and his eyes meet yours startled.

“Yoongi? What are you doing here?” He looks so beautiful his face is covered in a mask and you can see his eyes only. His eyes are your favorite, by the way they close together you know he’s smiling.

“I brought food and I wanted to come see you.” You see he’s switching his stance from one foot to the other.

“That’s sweet bub” bub? Wtf y/n “come on in it’s freezing out in these halls.”

Yoongi makes his way into your apartment removing his shoes by the entrance, as you do the same. You take a bag of the food from him and make your way into the kitchen where the kettle started to ring. As you remove it you see yoongi shrug off his coat and place it onto the hanger, he makes his way into the kitchen taking the face mask off and taking his beanie off.

“Oh my god…. You’re blue!!!” You gasp as you see the bright shade of blue on his head. It suits him so good. It brings out his pale smooth skin and brightens his smile way more.

“Oh um y-yeah… stylist Mina noona said that they wanted to dye it before the comeback photos and videos.” He starred down at his hands which were being preoccupied with his beanie as he fidgeted around with it.

Walking towards him to be in front of him, your eyes are wide. You couldn’t believe that they would change their hair color without letting you know, now all that’s running through your head is not only how cute he actually looks but changing the damn concept again. You bring your hand to the top of his and run your fingers through it.

“I like it. It suits you.” Yoongi meets your eyes and you give him a smile before grabbing some mugs for the tea.

We sat on the couch until two in the morning. We had schedules that morning at seven, but we always had to leave at around five in the morning giving us about two hours of sleep. I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer so I grabbed some blankets and crashed on the couch once yoongi left my apartment. Winter was here and the busy schedules were on their way and I couldn’t be happier.

Day 17: Think of one really good/funny/happy memory from this year or sometime recently that you’d like to illustrate and accompany with explanation. I think we can always use more positive/light stories!

Alright, so for those who don’t know, I had the pleasure of meeting the nerd who came up with all these prompts for the first time earlier this year, and I will NEVER forget that day, and here’s why:

I don’t normally buy high end makeup, just cause I can normally find things that work for me for cheaper, but there’s a higher end lipstick I have saved for special occasions, and of course I was going to wear it for meeting one of my favorite human beings on the planet.

The meeting itself could get its own story of just how wonderful it was, everyone was so nice and patient, his manager Matt was cracking jokes at us while we waited to meet him, and Thomas himself was just so amazing at making everyone he met feel like they were spending time with a close friend, even if it was only for a minute.

So it’s finally my turn, and I’ve been interacting with this nerd for years, he knows who I am, and instantly I’m pulled into the best hug I’ve ever gotten in my life and we’re just babbling about how much that moment meant to both of us. I really didn’t wanna let go, but security was starting to give me pretty big stink eyes, so I did, only to notice there were now dark red smudges on his cheeks. From my stay-all-day lipstick. And it wasn’t until I had walked away that I looked in a mirror and saw it had gotten all over my face too.

Now this was very unusual. I’ve hugged people before wearing that lipstick, but it had never come off onto their faces or got all over mine, Hell it’s lasted through two meals without needing to be reapplied. But then again, I was unaware of Thomas’s secret weapon, unknown even to him: his tiny tiny stubble, and thus the downfall of my undefeatable, high-end lipstick.

Now I can’t even look at that specific lipstick without laughing about his stubble getting it absolutely everywhere on our faces, and this is a lipstick I have worn to concerts and high end events. Granted, it was really fun giving him a hard time about it later, but that hug was definitely the happiest moment of my 2017, and I wouldn’t change a thing about it, not even the lipstick lol.

TL;DR: Thomas Sanders managed to get high end lipstick all over our faces and it was awesome.

About New Girl Season 7

We know we have a limited amount of episodes, so we will probably lose a lot of things… but here is what I think it HAS TO happen:

Ness proposal and/or wedding at the beach. Since Injured I really do feel like it should be there. That night was important to their story, so… :)

Nick and Jess slow dancing. It can be at their wedding, or just one regular day… I just NEED to see them dancing together

One last True American. With all of them!!!

therealmonikaxd  asked:

Sleepykinq, go to school. We all woring about you...I was thinking like you...I was having a really not cool sytuation in school...But you can't just drop the school and say "I'm gonna continue school online"!...In your age the most importan is school...Just....Think about it one more time...Ok?...

Yknow what I don’t think I’ll even get to become an adult I feel like my end is really close anyways 


Naw, but can we have two seconds without this fandom radiating negative vibes? Like, we were shown really cool concept art of Mercy, and it’s hella rad! The final design might not be better in your opinion, but really, why are y'all crushing our current Mercy and throwing her under the bus? The team works really hard on these characters, and turns out their rough drafts were cool too. They decided Angela would be the best addition to Overwatch. But ever since an innocent concept design was released, y'all are totally disregarding everything put into mercy. The artists and writers, her character as a whole. Don’t get me wrong, I fucking love that art. I hope that the original Mercy gets turned into his own character. But this is a really toxic envoirment we’re building up.

THIS is why you spay your dog

Yesterday we had the sweetest dog come in because she wasn’t feeling well. She wasn’t eating, had lost a lot of weight, and was just laying around the house not really moving. She was also very pale (anemic) and had a low temperature (which tends to happen when the body starts shutting down).

Her abdomen was very distended, she actually looked heavily pregnant. Given her age, we were concerned she may have had a large splenic tumor or even a bleed. But she also had milky bloody discharge, which made us suspicious of a uterine infection called pyometra. 

This was her x-ray:

You can see all of her internal organs pushed out of their normal locations. The bottom half is very grey, which could indicate fluid or, in this case, a large fluid-filled uterus.

She definitely had a pyometra, and we were concerned that the infection may have become systemic and the toxins were starting to shut her body down. She needed immediate emergency surgery.

Below the break is a photo taken during surgery, please view at your own discretion.

Keep reading

Moffat Appreciation

Look, to make it quick, because time is just not on my side and I’m dying with work from uni:

I’d love to do a Steven Moffat Appreciation Day this year! It’s just really, proper tradition. No November 18 without some serious Moffat appreciation, and I’ll even try to continue this beyond his time on Doctor Who, even though the way this blog will continue is still uncertain.

But I don’t think the current hiatus and people’s availabilities are the best basis of doing a proper Countdown and organising a weekly event.

Instead: What does a proper Steven Moffat Appreciation Week in January sound like? We’ll all be newly energised by what I’m sure will be a wonderful Christmas Special and can have the time of our lives looking back at an era which means so much to so many of us. Yes? No?

Any other suggestions are more than appreciated as well!

Terrible Twosday

Hello everyone!

First I know some of you are disappointed to be losing Trimmer Tuesday. But after some thinking it really did seem unfair to have days given to one specific ego. 

Therefore I shall go with a particular idea an anon suggested.

We’ll be talking about two egos at a time instead of one, and it can be any two egos you guys want. We’ll talk headcanons, hypotheticals, interacitons, So on and so forth. All egos are open for this. Now something I feel is needed is a list of egos I’m able to wrap my head around!

Dark, Wilford, Bim, the Jims, Silver Shepard (not entirely but I love seeing headcanons for him), Host, Author, King of Squirrels, Dr. Iplier, Lightiplier.


Natemare, NateLight, Gear, Apocalypse, and MadPat.

Let’s see how this goes!

Originally posted by deadperson626

I love how not only we get excited about Taylor winning awards or having hit singles but also she gets excited when we get accepted to great collage or are happy with our new relationships. She never only likes posts about herself but also shows so much love for personal posts. Other celebrities always say how much they love their fans but Taylor literally spends so much time with us and keeps showing how much she cares. We have seen many times that she actually rememberes so many names and so many little details about us and that’s why no one can say she does all this for promo. She just really cares! And it means so much because we are like a large group of friends who always support each other.

Can I be a light to myself?

We depend on experiences—pleasant or painful—to keep us awake; every form of challenge we want to keep us awake. When one realizes that this dependence on challenges and experiences only makes the mind more dull and that they do not really keep us awake—when one realizes that we have had thousands of wars and haven’t learnt a thing, that we are willing to kill our neighbour tomorrow on the least provocation—then one asks, why do we want them and is it all possible to keep awake without any challenge? That is the real question—you follow? I depend on a challenge, experience, hoping it will give me more excitement, more intensity, make my mind more sharp, but it does not. So I ask myself if it is possible to keep awake totally, not peripherally at a few points of my being, but totally awake, without any challenge, without any experience? That means, can I be a light to myself, not depending on any other light? That doesn’t mean I am vain in not depending on any stimulation. Can I be a light that never goes out? To find that out I must go deeply within myself, I must know myself totally, completely, every corner of myself, there must be no secret corners, everything must be exposed. I must be aware of the total field of my own self, which is the consciousness of the individual and of society. It is only when the mind goes beyond this individual and social consciousness that there is a possibility of being a light to oneself which never goes out.

- Jiddu Krishnamurti - Talks & Dialogues Saanen 1967, pp 111-112

anonymous asked:

I saw the ask you got about soulmates, but I was wondering how do you define it personally? And by your definition is it "the one" that people talk about or is it the concept of twin flames?

To be honest, the term “soul mate” is more of a symbolic evocation or a metaphor than anything literal, in my mind; it doesn’t really have concrete perimeters as far as I’m concerned. I don’t believe in fate or destiny, and I don’t think there is just One Ultimate Person we’re Supposed To Be With in our lives, and I think love largely depends on conscious effort and chemistry rather than base compatibility… but, I do think it’s possible that someone can be made into your “soul mate,” either by circumstance or otherwise. I don’t know about twin flames, however. That makes me think of the Greek myth/concept that we all started with another half that was separated from us, and we’re supposed to find them before we die. It seems fatalistic and closed-minded. Love is about lessons and organic human connection; I don’t like putting limits or standards or expectations onto it. If you feel like someone is your soul mate, then I don’t see why a spiritual philosophy should cause you to doubt that. Having just one person be “perfect” for you from birth is frankly silly. Lots of people will matter to you, and lots of people should. Love should be more about choice & feeling than a desperate quest to find someone to label “The One & Only.”