Dear unosparethe and all other butt-hurt jealous little idiots

Re This pathetic post and your overall ignorant, pathetic, hateful attitude in general.


In an industry where there is very little work and a great many actors competing for every little role, industry experts and professionals all recommend actors creating their own work.

The reasons are, that it not only gives actors an outlet to express themselves and their talents, but it also creates a lot of work for others within the industry.

You sneering at Chris Colfer for actually using his immense talents to try to create work, not just for himself, but also for many others, not just his fellow actors, but for crew, directors, producers, etc, just highlights your own ignorance and your own jealousies and your very obvious desire to simply pull someone down for doing something that is actually very inspirational.

Do you say the same thing when your precious Darren (yes, I know who you are, even though you are trying to hide like a cowardly worm behind a blog you created to post your hate, but protect yourself and your main blog from any backlash) talks about creating his own songs for his own album which HE will sing lead vocals on and be front and center of any performance of his songs, of his concert tours, of any promotion of his albums? No,you don’t, yet it is exactly the same thing that you are attacking Chris for. Darren will be using his creative talents to create work for himself, yet Darren will be suffering from a lot less discrimination within the industry than Chris does.

There is no difference between someone who expresses themselves and their talents in song as there is for someone who expresses themselves and their talents through writing and performing. Singers have been giving themselves lead vocal and writing songs to show off themselves and their own talents for centuries. An Actor writing roles for themselves and creating their own work is simply doing the same thing.

Chris Colfer is paving the way for others in the industry. He is showing others, especially people of minority groups like fellow up-and-coming LGBT actors who, like Chris himself, are constantly coming up against bigotry and discrimination within the entertainment industry, that this can be fought against, that if you are being excluded from work and effectively being punished for just being who you are, then screw them, create your own work and screw the bigots, the homophobes, the racists, the sexists, etc. Make your own work. Pave your own way!!!

Chris Colfer, having come out as Gay at a very young age, is constantly going to have to fight for his place in Hollywood. He is constantly going to be discriminated against. He is going to have to work  a hundred times harder than another actor who is straight, or who hides behind the straight label.

The fact that he is actually using his talents to not only create work and roles for himself, but also for others, is inspirational and it is forwarding movement towards equality for all.

Chris has written many projects that are in the works, and in some of those projects, he will/has cast himself as the lead, but in others he has already stated that he has only got small supporting roles, however, even if Chris cast himself as the lead in every project he creates, it is his right as HE created the work. HE put all his hard work and talents into creating that work that will also provide a lot of work for a great many others. His doing it is helping to pave the way for other minorities to create work for themselves in an industry where they are often overlooked and excluded because they don’t conform to the ‘ideal’.. Chris is saying OK, if you don’t get offered the roles because you don’t ‘FIT’, because you are not what Hollywood deems to be the ‘right’ sort of Leading Man/Woman,  then go out and create your own Leading Man/Woman Roles. Change the attitudes. Fight the stereotypes, show the world that you do not have to conform to specific standards in order to be successful, and that you refuse to be reduced to just being what the industry tries to label you as being.

As for your attacks on Chris’ personal appearance, again that just shows how ignorant you are, but also just how disgusting a person you are.

Chris Colfer is not only extremely talented but he works damned hard and he has EARNED his successes and has fought hard for each and every one, and every success he has is a success not only for himself, as a Gay Man fighting his ‘corner’ in Entertainment and Arts industry, but for all minority groups who experience discrimination in Hollywood and in the ARTS as a whole. He SHOWS others how to do it, he doesn’t just talk the talk, he also fucking walks the walk and he is a wonderful role model for all those fighting their own battles against  the bigoted, narrow-minded, homophobic, racist, sexist, transphobic, etc idiots who ‘run’ things within the entertainment industry. and you trying to tear down and reduce his efforts just exposes you as a butt-hurt jealous, ignorant, not very intelligent, bigoted little shit.

Chris is an absolutely amazing individual who constantly fights against the stereotypes and the labels and the discrimination, and constantly pushes the boundaries. He is very much a leader in the fight for equality, and is being recognised more and more for doing that.


type: oneshot / scenario

genre: fluff; PG

pairing: do kyungsoo x you

plot: in which the topic of jealousy arises, and teasing evolves into fighting


“Any tighter and I bet that mug will shatter into a million pieces,” Chen whispers to the equally impatient boy sitting beside him, obviously agitated himself. Baekhyun only sneers in response, too engrossed in the scene unfolding before him to part at least a quarter of his attention.

If there was one thing they’d both agree on without fighting the slightest bit, it’ll be how they find it amusing when you’re evidently jealous.

Keep reading

Secret Keeper

Pairing: Dudley Dursley x Alicia Spinnet 

Words: 1256

(am now officially rare pair trash; thank you, provocative-envy and all your enablers)


It starts in a dodgy little pub on football night.

It’s only ten o’clock, but half his weekend rugby team is already smashed from taking bets on the wrong team and the other half is just – unaccountably loud. Dudley looks around the dimly lit, man’s man space, wonders at the state of the washroom, and firmly resolves to get out of there before he needs to take a piss.

Timmins plonks a pint of beer in front of him, and sneers good-naturedly when Dudley shakes his head apologetically. “I dunno what you’re on about, mate; the dad bod is trendy, now, innit?”

He sighs. Getting his BMI down to the healthy range was truly a fucking torturous exercise and he wasn’t going to blow it on empty calories. His teammate laughs and takes a swig. “You should be getting out there, Dudders. Prowling the night. Picking up chicks. Not moping over – I don’t fucking know; you’ve been in a period of permanent mope since I’ve known you.”  

Dudley scrunches up his nose – that’s not exactly true, but he can’t really remember the last time that he was actually really happy, either.

“I mean, c’mon,” Timmins continues, sloshing more beer over his hand as he gestures towards a darkened corner of the already dark bar. “MacArthur was moping all week because he got dumped last weekend, and now he’s fine! Chatting up girls and everything!”

He wants to say that MacArthur is a dipshit of the highest degree, but he keeps quiet and looks anyway –

- And he freezes when he sees MacArthur leaning into a girl who clearly, obviously is not into it; not into him. She’s laughing, yes, but she’s also got a hand on his chest and her muscles are tense and Dudley, Dudley who spent a childhood bullying small children and his smaller cousin and was generally an expert at crowding into personal space, feels his blood run cold. He remembers screaming and darkness and fear of something bigger and he stands, pushing his shoulders back, and makes his way to MacArthur and the girl.

“- I can buy my own f- my own whisky, thank you, it’s fine,” the girl is saying, smile knife-sharp in her face whilst her eyes are dark and flinty. Dudley feels abruptly uneasy as MacArthur leans further into the girl and whispers into her ear, and then there is a jolt in his stomach when he sees the girl jerk her right hand – the hand not holding his drunken and stupid teammate away from her – ever so slightly.

Half an inch of a wooden stick slides out of her sleeve.

Dudley’s last name is Dursley, but he is also half Evans and he was raised in a house with a mother who is exceptionally sharp and is terrifyingly good at uncovering secrets.

He hastily claps a hand on MacArthur’s shoulder and hauls him away from the girl, pasting a jovial smile on his face.

“Timmins has beer for you, mate,” he says cheerfully, and moderates the well-meaning stupidity in his expression in response to MacArthur’s scowl.

“I’m busy, Dud-”

“Yeah, but girls will always be here when you get back, mm? Timmins might finish your beer.”

This gives MacArthur pause, and he leers at the girl before clapping Dudley on the shoulder and stumbling away towards the bar.

Dudley waits two and a half seconds before jerking his head towards the exit. The girl follows wordlessly as they climb a set of stairs that smell like the worst parts of the tube and emerge into a raucous Friday night in London. He nods to her, keeping an eye on her right sleeve, and begins to walk in the direction of the nearest bus stop.


He doesn’t expect her to catch up with him, keeping up with his wider strides and looking somewhere between petulant and furious. “I had that covered.

“I know.” Dudley keeps on walking.

“I didn’t need you to waltz in there like a giant, fulfilling your stupid fucking white-knight quota for the year-”

Dudley halts, and so does she, eyes wide and startled as he stoops a little to look her in the eye. “I know.”

And he knows, immediately, that she knows that he knows. She takes half a step back before squaring her shoulders and huffing a quiet “Oh.” She doesn’t ask why, or how, but offers him a half-smile. “Thanks. I’m Alicia, by the way.”

He grunts an acknowledgment and resumes walking, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. “What were you doing here, anyhow?” What were you doing in our side of London, he means, and she laughs.

“Watching football.” It isn’t until later (much later) that she admits that she can’t really get muggle channels on her telly, because they can’t afford to buy one that’s warded against magical interference – which there is a lot of in their flat because Katie tends to bring home her work from the charm bracelet store.

They reach the bus stop, and Dudley motions towards a quiet space between two buildings. “You can disappear over there.”

Alicia shakes her head and plops down onto the bench after a surreptitious glance at it. “My flat is around here. I can wait for your bus with you.” He shrugs and takes a seat, glaring mulishly out into the street whilst eyeing the girl beside him. “You don’t really talk much, do you?”

Dudley exhales heavily, and he thinks about explaining that he doesn’t really know what to say, christ, because she’s part of Harry’s world, and he’d wanted nothing to do with it, because it brought darkness and sadness and it had killed his aunt and his uncle and it had killed Harry twice, and what is she doing here and why is she talking to me?

“I’m Dudley,” he blurts, looking at the concrete pavement and scuffing the toe of his sneakers against a crack. “Dudley Dursley.”

She looks confused.

“Harry Potter’s cousin,” he elaborates, figuring that everyone should know Harry Potter.

Alicia’s smile freezes for about half a second before it thaws. “Ah.”

There is silence for about two minutes as Dudley contemplates the probability of the ground opening up to swallow him whole.

“I was Harry’s quidditch teammate at school,” Alicia says, twirling a braid around one of her fingers. “We fought during the War. He never mentioned you.”

Dudley shrugs again, uncomfortable. “There isn’t much to mention. We aren’t close.”

Alicia peers at him, eyes bright, and it feels as if she’s peeling away the layers of his words to find the heart of them underneath. He feels both ashamed and free.

“Do you want to get some tea, sometime? We can work on your talking.”

Dudley squints at her suspiciously. “You won’t be reading the tea leaves or something, right?”

She laughs. “No. Divining the future is almost as useless as defining yourself by your past – at least, if you aren’t the same person any more.” She glances down at the spot that he’s looking at, and he can see the fingers on her right hand curling back towards her sleeve. “At least, that’s what I learned in the war.”

Dudley feels something unclench in his chest, and it’s like he can finally fucking breathe since the last time he saw his cousin in his old house on Privet Drive, when they were running for their lives and he was waiting for his death – even if he hadn’t known it. “Would you like to go for tea now?”

anonymous asked:

ooo jikook dance au

Everyone said “Jungkook can dance to anything” or “Jungkook is the best dancer we have” and “Jungkook will win us the championship” and while he appreciated all the support and praises, it was making him sick to the stomach.

Jimin, who happened to be in the bathroom when Jungkook ran inside and crashed in a cubicle, just stared blankly for a few moments; and really, he probab;y hated the younger for stealing all the glory and attention now. But not only did Jimin not sneer at him and walk away, he gently bent down next to him, running soothing circles down his back and offered  soft smile as he wiped Kookie’s dirty hand clean “You’ll be fine, don’t worry. I’m here for you”

Give me a pairing, an AU, and I will write a three-sentence fic


Manaforge B’naar, during the war in Outland.

“Rumor has it you’re fucking the halfbreed.”

Half a dozen ears pricked up. A pair of Sunfury warp-engineers exchanged dark smirks.

The red tipped cigarette between Talandriel’s fingers snapped in her sudden fist. “His name,” she said, “is Danel.”  

“Bastard’s name even sounds human,” scoffed the Coruu arch mage.

“Show some respect,” she flared. “Half of you would be dead if not for his skill.”

“Oh, he’s skilled,” sneered a magister. “First man to warm the captain’s bed.”  

The arch mage flashed a lecherous grin. “Think I’ll pay your halfbreed a visit while I’m here.” He ground his cigarette beneath the heel of his boot. “Find out what tricks–”

He stumbled back with a sharp cry as sunlight scattered off the edge of her blade. A cold light glimmered in her eyes, “Don’t touch him.”  

An ominous murmur rippled through the crowd.

She rounded, armor enchantments flaring. Pale blue light twisted and arced between the double blades of her sword. “Nobody touches him.”

The thrum of the manaforge reverberated in the sudden silence.


Her fingertips traced the curve of his cheek as if committing the lines to her memory.


His head tilted down, a sort of curiosity in his gaze. Silvery hair rippled around his shoulders like moonlight shimmering over a frozen sea. Her fingers curled in the silken strands.

I would fight them all for you.

Beneath her damp cheek, the beat of his heart drowned the thrum of the manaforge.

Love is weakness" is a cliche. I don’t believe there’s some inherent fault in those in love and I don’t sneer at families or friends, whom love makes stronger. I will say love is an intoxicant. Some people can take it - they’re emboldened by it. I have nothing but respect for them. But there are those - and he is one - who drink it in like alcohol and end up messy and sobbing on the floor, useless. The morning won’t be kind.
—  Yuma’s journal

I am tanlines pressed absently 

to murder-gray bedsheets

a violent lesson in metamorphosis

just vying for that neon sort of feeling  

to creep its way back in again. 

so I shave the hair at the nape of my neck

where he used to fist his hands

a statement made in threaded fingers

to say “i own You”.

so I wear jarringly vibrant lipstick

to gift myself with the aggression and courage 

that he wrung out of my voice.

so I pierce my nose

wearing silver in all ten piercings

to be a different body

than the one who arched its back for him.

I do this to make my memories of his face sneer

to smudge over his kind smiles with honesty

to break the illusion that he was kind.

I do this because

I am angry 

I am angry

I am angry

that I let him water me down

to pastel.

I do this to be neon

I do this for myself.

–”I will capitalize Myself”  by andromedasanatomy

Curry Imagine- Angel Eyes

Requested by angelshepard
Song: Angel Eyes

You were sitting in the Shepard’s living room talking with Angie, radio blasting. You were hoping Curly would come home soon, you loved seeing him, even though you didn’t know if he had the same crush on you that you had on him. You always found yourself staring, you hoped no one noticed.

Suddenly the door flew open, and in stomped Curly, a big grin on his face. He stopped by the radio, and his grin grew wider. “This song’s about you, Angel Eyes.” He winked at you. You gasped and tried not to blush.

“I think someone’s got a crush,” Angie sang.

“No, no. I don’t,” you squeaked out, completely embarrassed.

“I think you do,” Curly sneered. You looked away so he couldn’t see your smile. “Oh c'mon Angel Eyes. Look at me. You know you want to.” You could hear him smirk. So typical.

He grabbed your face and turned so you looked at him. “There’s a little bit of devil in those angel eyes,” he sang along with the radio and smiled at you. You blushed even more. His smile grew wider by the second. It made your heart melt. His eyes were enough to make it beat out of your chest, and here they were staring right into yours. You were putty in his hands and he knew it.

“Well I’m gonna not be a third wheel and leave you two alone,” Angie sang and stalked out of the room. Curly started to play with your hair, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“So you do have a little crush,” he teased and kissed your forehead.

“Well…maybe a little one,” you whispered, too embarrassed to say anything.

“That’s hot,” he grinned

“What’s wrong, Solas? Do you not like Mabari?” Ishaz said as he gratuitously pet the animal.
“Aha.” The elf mage laughed lightly, though kept his distance. “I find them just fine.” 
The large dog eyed the elf and let out a displeased grunt and a sneer. “Easy, boy. This man is my friend!” Ishaz said, taking the Mabari by the cheeks and scratching under it’s large chin.”You are still new to him, I’m sure it will take time for him to warm up to you.” 
“Indeed.” Solas said, although he did not sound convinced.  

Many many many moons ago when I began my little story, my wife regaled me with talks of Solas. Although I’m not heavily into the lore as she is (there is way too much for me to remember!) a few things stuck out! 

The myth about the Mabari taking the Dread Wolf’s tail, to be specific. Why didn’t we get a Dog companion in this game (so far??) ? I wonder. ;P 

(not the best sketch, but it *was* done on my 3DS! give me a break?? ;3;)

xceanicheadshxt asked:

"Hey there man, ya look like you're on the wrong side of the bridge." (( )(: HIIIII))

Chase sneered, looking over at the BLU and rolling his eyes. “What’s it to ya? I ain’t causin’ any harm.”

“Oh, Senpai. Why do have to be so perfect and have such a warm heart?” Yandere-chan whispered while taking photos of Senpai. Yandere-chan had so many dreams of her being with him. All of the sudden Saki Miyu walking outside of the school to go talk to Senpai. During the chat, Yandere-chan stared from a couple trees away, dodging their glaces, sneering at Saki’s slight flirting towards her secret love. Yandere-chan then waited until lunch break for Saki to use the restroom and hid inside a stall until she go to her targeted place. Saki glances around wondering if she’s being watches dismisses it and tries not to be paranoid. Then once in position Yandere-chan comes and smashes her head in while covering Miyu’s mouth. Miyu being attacked tries to tell Yandere-chan to stop! But Yandere-chan waits for her to be at her passing out brink and whispers,”Heheh, If only you hadn’t talk to Senpai so much we would have never had this falling out Miyu. And it’s a shame because I thought  you were actually my friend.” Then Yandere-chan pulls out her knife and stabs into her heart. “Maybe next time you’ll be more careful. Oh wait… you won’t get one!” Yandere-chan then pulls her body to the insinrator and drops Miyu, her weapon, and the bloody uniform inside. After mopping up the blood Yandere-chan attends class and goes on with her day. 

I misread Nate/Sterling as Eliot/Sterling at first, so have a bonus Eliot and Sterling body swap 3-sentence fic

“Say that one more time and see what happens,” Eliot warned, gritting his teeth as he grabbed his own pinky finger— technically Sterling’s finger until they figured out how to fix this mess—and bent it backwards until it hurt.

If it hadn’t been Eliot’s face looking ridiculous, it would’ve been funny how wide Sterling’s eyes got before he composed himself and sneered, “Not even you’re dumb enough to break your own fingers.”

Eliot smiled and said, “They ain’t mine, and I’ve had worse, so unless you want to switch back unable to open doors you’re gonna help me find my team and then we’ll see about fixing this.”

Thank god the camera only showed his face or a lot of fangirls might get the wrong idea. Though knowing them they would brush it under the rug, asking Dan if he was decorating the lounge. Dan felt his lip curling into a sour sneer. They worship me. He thought, bewildered. How could he fear being caught when their ignorance took over their logic?

Quote from this thing I’m writing and wow okay I’m enjoying this a lot

I’m trying not to take it too far but help this is so fucking fun taking two nerds and twisting them into your worst nightmare


“I remember doing interviews, and people would ask, as if it was a joke, ‘So you mean you are a feminist?’ As though feminism couldn’t be discussed unless we were making fun of it. I don’t want to deny my femininity. But would I want to be a stay-at-home mother? No. On the other hand, you should be allowed to do that, as should men, without being sneered at.” – Keira Knightley