.i deny that i have a situation

anonymous asked:

i know you meant well when you said 30 isnt ancient, but im nb so my life expectancy is actually 30 :(

Hey anon, I’m so sorry that that’s a fear you’ve had to live with. I know that trans people are at greater risk of violence and suicide, and I’ve heard people say many times that the life expectancy of trans people (or trans women, or trans women of color, depending on who you ask) is anywhere from 23 to 35. Your ask troubled me, so I’ve dug deep looking for solid evidence of any of these, and I don’t believe that these statistics are true.

A trans woman, Helen, looked into the “23 years” claim and traced it back to someone’s notes on two workshops at a 2007 conference, which stated that trans people’s life expectancy is “believed to be around 23” (emphasis mine) but cites no actual source. This claim has been presented as fact in many news articles since then, but as far as I can tell, no one seems to know where this figure came from.

Another claim is often sourced to an Argentine psychologist quoted in this NPR article

Psychologist Graciela Balestra, who works closely with the transgender community, says it’s an especially vulnerable population.

“Transgender people have an average life expectancy of about 30 to 32 years,” Balestra says. “They don’t live any longer; I think that statistic alone says so much.”

But again, the article gives no source for this figure

I found an article claiming that a 2014 report by the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights (IACHR) “concludes the average life expectancy of trans people in the Western Hemisphere is between 30-35 years.” However, when I tracked down the report, An Overview of Violence Against LGBTI Persons (pdf), its only reference to this is (emphasis mine): “[T]he IACHR has received information that the life expectancy of trans women in the Americas is between 30 and 35 years of age.” Again, this is no source.

Someone said on my post that these statistics may have come from the NCTE/NGLTF report Injustice at Every Turn (pdf), but I can’t find any reference to any such claim in the report.

Thinking about these claims, they seem unlikely for some basic reasons. Consider that we simply don’t have a long enough span of data on trans people, and that what data we do have is extremely limited because we can’t always know who is trans and who isn’t. Consider also that, although obviously the murder rates for trans people are extremely high, the number of deaths of 20-something trans people would have to be ENORMOUS to offset the existence of older trans people and bring the average down to 30. Especially since, unlike with racial groups for example, the data on trans people would likely include almost no childhood deaths, simply because it would be much more difficult (and in many cases impossible) to identify these children as trans. And since we know that trans women of color are extremely disproportionately affected by violence, statistics that include white people and/or trans men would be especially unlikely to be so low.

And as to your specific situation anon, again given that trans women of color are most at risk, I don’t think we have reason to believe that being non-binary specifically puts a person at anywhere near this level of increased risk of dying young.

I don’t say any of this to question anyone’s experiences or to deny the state of emergency that trans women face with regard to violence. That is very real. But I think it can be harmful, even dangerous to trans people to spread claims like this around, especially without evidence. Expecting to die by 30 would take an extreme emotional toll on anyone, and trans people deserve better.

But don’t take my word for it: FORGE, a national transgender anti-violence organization that works with trans survivors of sexual assault, wrote the following in its 2016 publication “First Do No Harm: 8 Tips for Addressing Violence Against Transgender and Gender Non-Binary People” (pdf) (I have moved two footnotes into the main text and provided links to some endnote sources; italicized emphasis is theirs while bold is mine.): 

Promote Hope for the Future

It certainly is not the same as a murder, but publicizing a low “life expectancy” rate for transwomen of color is another way to steal away their future, a “crime” that has been committed repeatedly by trans, LGBQ, and mainstream press. Think about the people you know or have heard of who have been diagnosed with a fatal illness and given a short time to live: how many of them have enrolled in college, undertaken lengthy training for a new occupation, had a new child, or tried to establish a new non-profit? A few do, certainly, but many more focus on their bucket list, arrange for their good-byes, or simply give up entirely, essentially relinquishing whatever time they have left to depression and regrets. When we tell transwomen of color they cannot expect to live very long, we rob them of hope. We rob them of any motivation to invest in themselves, their relationships, and their communities. We rob them, in short, of their lives even while they are still living. (This statement in no way negates the need to systemically work to improve and increase the life expectancy of trans people through working to end transphobia, racism, poverty, pervasive violence, and health and healthcare inequities, and more.)

One trans woman of color was trying to come to grips with an estimated lifespan figure more than ten years shorter than the one that has been published most often. (We are not repeating any of the (incorrect) estimated lifetime figures that are circulating, to avoid even inadvertent reinforcement.) Faced with the report of yet another attack on another trans woman, she wrote:

These days, I look at the latest reports of stabbed, shot, beaten trans women, search myself for tears, and I cannot find a thing. I want to mourn and rage. I want to honor all of our sisters — the hundreds each year who are ripped, namelessly and without fanfare, from this life — who are taken so young before their time. But the grief and anger — even empathy — do not come. I don’t feel anything but numbness and fatigue, and somewhere far below that, fear.

The terrible irony of the life expectancy “fact” is that it is based on an impossibility. The only ways to determine a given population’s life expectancy are to: examine decades or more of death certificates or census data containing the information being studied, or follow a specific set of individuals for around 100 years and record every single death. There is not and never has been a census of transgender people. Our death certificates do not mark us as transgender. There has been no 100-year-long study of a representative group of trans people. So where are the estimated lifespan figures coming from?

FORGE tracked the most commonly-cited figure back to what was most likely the 2014 Philadelphia Transgender Health Conference, where a workshop presenter gave the figure and explained she had calculated it by averaging the age of death for all of those listed on the Transgender Day of Remembrance (TDOR) website. This means the figure is actually the average age of those trans people who were both murdered and came to the attention of someone who added them to the TDOR list. Interestingly, this average is very close to the average age of everyone who is murdered in the U.S., according to the U.S. Department of Justice statistics. [I’m not seeing an average age given in the cited source but you can see on page 5 of this Bureau of Justice Statistics report (pdf) that the average age of homicide victims in the U.S. was between 30 and 35 from 1980 to 2008.]

But not everyone is murdered.

Despite how many there may appear to be, only a tiny, tiny fraction of transpeople are killed by other people. Most of us, transwomen of color included, live average lifespans and die of the most common U.S. killers — heart disease, cancer, chronic lower respiratory disease, and unintentional injuries (accidents).

Please don’t add to fear and hopelessness by spreading inaccurate and profoundly disempowering data.

Since I can’t respond to everyone directly, I’m @ing some people who’ve brought this up on my post and may be interested: (urls removed after posting for their privacy). I appreciate your thoughtfulness in bringing this to my attention. If you or anyone else has a source on any of these figures that can provide specific methodology, I’d be very grateful to see that.

In closing, here are some resources that provide a more hopeful view of trans aging. They are well known but I hope they will be helpful to someone.

For Worse

This was a Request for an Anon. They wanted a Story where Bruce Cheated and the Bat Boys react. If you have request go ahead and make one! Also Let me know if you want a part two. (UPDATE: Lots of people have asked for a Part 2 so i’ll start working on it soon ^_^)  part two: here


You weren’t much of a wine drinker, not much of a drinker period in all actuality. When you did drink you preferred the sweetness of a strawberry margarita that masked the taste of alcohol. However, right now, as the slightly bitter liquid pooled to the back of your throat, you couldn’t imagine a better tasting drink.

Sitting on the large black marble kitchen counter, you swung your legs with childlike glee as the world around you suddenly started to feel a little hazy. Patting at your cheek with a sweater covered hand to wipe away some tear stains you filled up your glass of Zinfandel with the other.

The bottle clinks hollowly against the counter just as Alfred rounds the corner into the kitchen. He looks at your form sitting on the counter with wide worried eyes but you can’t be bothered to give him more than a half hearted crooked smile as you knock back half of your glass.

“Are you alright ma’am?” He asks moving slowly toward you. He can clearly see the intoxicated state that you’re in and he doesn’t want to startle you.

“Peachy,” you say with an airy sigh.

“It doesn’t seem so,” he says picking up the large empty bottle of wine. “It’s not even past noon ma’am.”

“I don’t know if I care that much Alfred,” you say with a chuckle. “This is usually the only time I get to be alone.”

He looks at you worriedly, “Maybe right now you shouldn’t be alone.”

You look at him, nose scrunching up in anger and a frown pulling at your lips. “I think I should, you aren’t exactly innocent either, are you?”

Alfred doesn’t waver when meeting your gaze, save for a brief flash of guilt that runs through his eyes. “Why don’t I fix you some coffee and breakfast to help sober you up.”

“When were you going to tell me?”

“Toast is probably the best option.”

“Where you ever going to tell me?”

“I know you like eggs, so I’ll scramble some for you.”

“How many times did you watch him fuck her?” You say as you grab at his arm.

He stops his rambling at looks at you with a slight tear in his eye, “I’m sorry Mrs. Wayne.”

You look at the older man and see the pain in his eyes and think about the shame he must feel, he is the one who raised Bruce afterall.

“Were you sorry enough to ask him to stop?”

“He pushed me away.”

“Of course he did,” you say snidely letting go of the man and pushing yourself off of the counter. Your sock covered feet hit the floor with slight pat and you walk over to the sink to put your glass down. “When breakfast is done, I’ll be in the bedroom.”

“…Of course ma’am.”

***

Wallowing around in your bed and wiping away ever falling tears all day wasn’t something that you thought you’d be doing when you married Bruce Wayne. However, at the moment you couldn’t think of what else to do. You needed to get your emotions out and rest at the same time. Damian would be home from school soon and the rest of the boys would be home for dinner.

The familiar roar of an engine caught your attention and you felt your body tense. Anticipation and anxiety wracked your form as you waited for the familiar footsteps of your husband to enter the room.

What would you say to him? Could you even bring it up? What if what you saw only happened in a dream? He would never actually hurt you this way would he? He had promised to love and cherish only you after all. How could Batman of all people break his promise?

In your thoughts, you’d barely heard the door to your bedroom open. He doesn’t say anything when he walks through the door. You hear the rustle of clothing and assume that he is removing his suit jacket. You assumptions were proved correct when he comes to sit on the side of your shared bed and pulls the blanket from over your head. He reveales himself to be in his white shirt and black suit pants.

His blue eyes scan over your form worriedly as he rubs a large thumb on your forehead. You have to bite your tongue to prevent sharp words from spewing out of you and rejecting his sweetness.

“Are you still not feeling well?” He asked voice soft and warm.

You shake your head.

He sighs with a sad smile and runs the pad of his thumb over you cheekbone, “I’ll have Alfred make you some soup.”

You don’t respond and stare at him relatively blankly and while this bothers him he shrugs it off to whatever sickness it was that was bothering you.

He stands from the bed and moves over to the closet to change into something more comfortable. You take the opportunity to sit up and push your body up against the headboard and you watch him. As he pulls the shirt off his body you can see every scar and bruise that he’d accrued recently, even the ones on his neck that hadn’t placed there forcefully.

When he slips the grey sweatshirt on over his head your trace is broken.

“Can I say something?”

He jumps slightly at the sound of your voice and turns to look at you with curious blue orbs.

“I always thought it would be Talia y’know? Especially on account of how Damian got here, but I thought it would be her.”

“What?” He asks with furrowed dark eyebrows.

“I always thought that the thing with Selina was harmless flirting, even if she did kiss you once or twice, I never really got mad.” You can feel your throat slick and tighten with nerves but your belly is full of rage.

You can see it on his face when it registers what you were talking about and the blanching of his face causes you to get angrier for some reason. You stand up quickly from your position on the bed and instinctively he holds a hand out in attempt to calm you.

“Why would you do that to me? What have I not given you that you couldn’t think ‘I shouldn’t do this, I have a wife waiting at home’?”

“We were caught up in the moment, it wasn’t supposed to happen.” He tries to explain.

“Multiple times, you fucked her multiple times! On different days, on different weeks!”

He looks at you pathetically and you suddenly find that your positions have been reversed and he is the one sitting on the bed while you are the one standing.

“You know I thought this would happen when we were dating, and I told myself that it would be much better if it happened then because I could just leave. But now I can’t, I’m stuck here with you, in this giant stupid house.” You can feel your tears start to well up again but you quickly wipe at your eyes in an attempt to wipe them away. “Were you going to stop sleeping with her? Or were you just waiting to get caught?”

He doesn’t respond and he hangs his head down in shame.

“Look at me!,” you snap agitated and causing him to meet your gaze. “You were bold enough to go and do it no you have to take the consequences the same way you did them.”

“I wasn’t going to stop,” he said truthfully. You feel your jaw twitch at the honesty and the frown that’s pulling at your lips is almost painful. “Selina has always been important to me I suppose, and it felt natural.”

It was almost as if you could hear your heart breaking and you couldn’t stop the sob that ran its way through your throat. You slapped a hand over your mouth in shame and turned away from him as the tears freely flowed down your face. Almost instinctively at your crying from, Bruce was at your side with a large hand on your back trying to comfort you.

“Don’t. Touch. Me!” You snap slapping his hands away. “Why did you marry me? If you felt that way you should have been with her!”

“I love you,” he says desperately.

“No you don’t,” you say pushing him away from you. “If you did you wouldn’t have done this.”

“Thats-” he starts but he stops himself.

“Were you going to say ‘That’s not true’?” You ask incredulously with wide eyes. “So you were planning on cheating on me anyway.”

“No,” he shakes his head.

“God, I’ve wasted all of this time on you,” you say moving around him looking for a pair of shoes to slip on and your keys. “All of the things that I could have done, places I could  have gone, and people who would have loved me, I gave it up for you. I put my career on hold so I could help you. So that Wayne Enterprises would have someone there while you rested. So that our son could have something other than mask to raise him. But you couldn’t do one thing for me? You couldn’t say no one time for me?”

He doesn’t respond, he knows he shouldn’t respond, nothing he can say will make this situation better.

Once you’ve collected your shoes, bag, and care keys, you let out a sigh,”I had really hoped that once you came home that there would be some way that you could deny this and I would have believed you. That I’d been slipped some sort of drug and had been hallucinating the things that I saw, but I was too hopeful.” You wipe at your eyes. “The worse part about it is that you’ve trapped me, Bruce. What can I do? My life has become our kids, your company, and your mission. That has been my job since we’ve gotten married. I lived for us Bruce, why couldn’t you?”

“I didn’t mean to- I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he pleads. “She was just-”

This isn’t about her, Bruce.” You shake your head and make your way to the bedroom door. “I’m going to stay at the penthouse. Don’t come by. Tell Damian that I’ll come get him for lunch on Saturday like I always do.”

“Are you coming back?”

You look at his sad blue orbs and shake your head, “I don’t know.”

***

Damian was the first to arrive home. Bruce watched from the bedroom window as he and Alfred made their way into the house. What was he supposed to tell him? Not just Damian, but everyone. That he’d driven their mother away and he didn’t know when she’d be back? That he’d ruined their family? No, never that. How could he break his children even more than they already had been.

With a frown, Bruce locked the door to the bedroom and sat in silence and darkness. If he’d gone to the cave he would have opened himself up to questions. In here, for the moment, he was safe. No one would bother him here.

***

“Hey Alfred, where is mom?” Dick asked, taking a drink of his water.

“Yes, I would like to know as well, Pennyworth. It’s not often that you come and pick me up from school,” Damian started pushing around some of his food with his fork.

“Mom didn’t get you from school?” Tim questioned with a furrowed brow. “That’s her thing though.”

“Hence the question,” Damian replied with smirk causing Tim to roll his eyes.

“Maybe she got tired of you being a smartass and didn’t feel like being bothered,” Jason adds in with a raised eyebrow and a smirk of his own as he rocks back on the legs of his chair.

“Unlikely, considering I’m her favorite,” the youngest said crossing his arms over his chest. “Besides, I haven’t seen her at all, not since this morning.”

“What?” The three older boys questioned alarmed.

“Alfred?” Dick questions again to the older man who hasn’t raised his head from his plate since the questioning started. “Where is mom?”

“I’m afraid, Master Grayson, that it would be best if you went to ask Master Wayne,” the butler deflects.

“Has something happened to, mom?” Tim asks seriously.

“I cannot answer that,” Alfred replies again.

In frustration Jason pushes away from the dining room table to make his way up to the master bedroom, the other boys following quickly behind him.

It only takes a minute for Jason to stomp his way to the bedroom and even less for him to begin banging on the door.

“Open the door up, old man” He starts impatiently. “We just want to know where mom is.”

There is a pause as the boys listen for movement, and when there isn’t any Jason pounds on the door again, “I’ll break the door open!”

“Jason!” Dick scolds. “Mom will be mad if you break her door.”

“Well how else am I supposed to get him to open it?”

“We could use our brains?” Tim suggests.

“No need,” Damian says pulling out his blade and shoving it in the jam of the door. He uses his weight as pressure and pops open the door.

“That still counts as messing up the door,” Dick says pointing at the ruined lock.

“It’s still intact isn’t it?”

“Whatever.”

Tim pushes open the door giving way to the light from the hallway to flood into the dark room. Tim quickly finds the light switch and the room lights up.

“Father?” Damian questions when the lights flicker on and he sees the man sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in hands.

The man doesn’t respond to his name being called and this sends the boys into a slight panic. Dick quickly walks over and places a large hand on Bruce’s shoulder and tries to shake him out of his trance.

The man looks at the boys and sadness flashes in his eyes as he realizes he has to explain how he’s taken their mother from them.

“Where is mom?” Tim asks.

Damian watches from a distance and takes in the state of the room. On the occasions that he’d have nightmares, he usually finds himself in his parents bed snuggled against his mother in the expansive bed as she protected him from the dreams. He probably knew better than anyone what their bedroom was supposed to look like.He noted that the dresser was suspiciously bare of his mother’s jewelry boxes and perfume bottles.  He casts a quick glance at Jason who seems to realize that something is off about the room.

Damian walks around the bed to his mother’s closet and opens it only find it empty. Jason stands behind his youngest brother staring at the empty room perplexed.

“This is her’s,” Damian mutters, “Where is her stuff?”

When it clicks for Jason he’s consumed with rage and he’s stomping over to Bruce again and pushing his startled brothers away. His large hand is around Bruce’s collar in an instant and he’s pulling the man up.

“What did you do? Why did she leave?” Jason questions acidly, his own blue eyes clashing violently with Bruce’s.

“Leave?” Dick questions. “How do you know she left?”

“Majority of Ummi’s things are gone. Like they were packed up.”

“She left us?” Tim questions swallowing thickly.

“I’m pretty sure she left him!” Jason hisses shaking the man who is still staring blankly at him. “What did you do?”

“What could you have done to make her leave like this?” Tim asks.

Dick examines his adoptive father keenly as he runs the scenarios through his mind. His mother adored Bruce, so why would she just leave?

Seemingly having enough of being pushed around Bruce quickly wraps his hand around Jason’s wrists and squeezed before ripping the hand off of his collar. The stretched fabric falls limply around his neck as he looks at the four of his sons angrily.

“You all need to leave,” He says sternly. “Your mother is safe.”

Dick’s gaze falls onto where the collar hangs limply at Bruce’s neck and he spots a purple bruise on his neck that causes a thought to run through his mind and it makes his hair stand on end.

“You wouldn’t,” Dick says with a shake of his head and a disbelieving smile. “You couldn’t, not to Mom, right?”

“What are talking about, Grayson?” Damian asks looking in between the two men.

Bruce meets Dick’s gaze and the younger man feels himself getting hot with anger the longer he holds his gaze.

Tim examines his father and finds the same bruise on Bruce’s neck and he puts it together. Instead of letting his anger consume him he glances back at his younger brother and grabs his arm.

“Let go of me, Drake,” Damian struggles as Tim pulls him along.

“Alfred knows where she went doesn’t he?” Tim asks glancing at the guilty man. A quick nod is all he needs as he proceeds down stairs with the young boy.

“Who was it with? Viki? Talia? Who?” Dick questions angrily.

Jason snorts in anger as he realizes what his brother is implying.

“Selina,” Bruce responds after a long pause.

Dick shakes his head in anger, “I knew you could be an asshole but not like this.”

Dick locks eyes with his brother, “We should find out where mom is and go see her in the morning. I’m sure she wants to be alone now.”

Jason nods and watches as his Dick leaves the room. He stares down the older man for a second before stomping out.

***

It seemed like it was always raining in Gotham, despite whatever the season was. At the moment that suited you just fine. The wide open space of the penthouse was smaller than what you were used to but still felt empty. You were happy that Bruce hadn’t tried to come and see you, you don’t think you could have been as civil as you were if he had come to see you.

So when there was a knock on the door, you felt dread fill your stomach. You quickly padded over to the door and looked out of the peephole and saw the distorted visage of four familiar figures.

“Boys!” You say with wide eyes as you swing open the door.

“Ummi!” The youngest voice calls out as he leaps at you burying his face in your stomach as his small but strong arms wrap themselves around your waist.

“Damian,” you say with a smile, running a comforting hand along his back.

“We were worried,” Dick says with a smile and a shrug as he pulls a bouquet of flowers from behind his back.

“You’re all so sweet,” you say with a smile moving to the side and letting the boys into the home.

“We didn’t want you to be alone,” Tim says, “We also wanted to make sure your weren’t in danger.”

“Oh,” you say sadly and closed the door behind them. Damian let’s go your waist and instead opts to hold your hand. “I shouldn’t have left in such a hurry, I know it can be unsafe.”

“We understand, mom” Jason says with a smile. You meet his normally stern eyes and you feel your tear ducts well up. “Hey, don’t cry! I brought food.”

We, brought food,” Dick pops in as Jason shows you a bag in is hand. “Tim set the table.”

Damian brings you over to sit you at the dining room table as Tim makes a place for the each of you.

Jason and Dick bring the food out and then sit down to join you.

“We’re sorry about Bruce,” Dick starts looking at you with a sad smile. “But we understand and we’ll be here for you.”

The boys nod their heads in agreement.

You smile at your boys, feeling slightly better than you had been in hours, “Thank you.”

Kill them with kindness
  • INTJ: how do you manage to always be nice to everyone? don't you ever just wanna punch everyone in the face?
  • INTP: oh, yes, constantly. but then i remember that appearing as someone who's cute, adorable and always kind to everyone arouses protective instincts in your acquaintances, and hence those who behave rudely towards you and hurt your feelings are perceived by everyone else as utter jerks, and get disliked by most. also, the more you are nice to people, the more they will feel bad for mistreating you. y'know, it's a win-win situation. you get to have your revenge on those who hurt you without having to do anything morally wrong.
  • INFP: oh my god, INTP, is that really how you see being nice to others?
  • INTP: INFP, whether you're aware of it or not, this is a fact that can not be ignored. besides, i'm not saying that i am only nice to others for this reason, i do like the idea of brightening other people's days with my kind behavior, but i can't deny that the idea of getting revenge like this kind of delights me.
  • INTJ: can you believe i'd never thought of that? damnit, INTP, i can't believe that i'm saying this, but you actually are pretty smart.
  • INTP: thanks bud, i know i am
  • INFP: i can't believe you two
2

So about the incident from the Weibo chat, I’ve gone out to learn what I can about the situation. I’ve also confirmed with Layshands regarding what happened, since she did read the conversation between Yixing and this fanboy. I’m posting some public statements I’ve seen from Chinese speakers who were present for the Weibo chat, since they also confirm what I’m about to explain.

Basically, during this chat, a fanboy with the username “Zhang Yixing’s husband” commented “I’m not gay but I like Yixing because of my girlfriend.” In response to that, Yixing jokingly said, “then your username is not correct!” as in, “you can’t be my husband if you have a gf.” Afterwards the fan apparently continued to joke with Yixing by proposing to him with “can you still be my husband” or something along those lines.

The context of the convo, and part of the convo was left out in the translation that people had seen previously, so its easy to misunderstand the situation. I’m not denying that Yixing is hypermasculine/heteronormative, nor am I denying stupid shit he’s said in the past (xingmi are well aware), but nowhere in this conversation did he tell this fan that his sexuality was wrong, nor did he imply that being homosexual was wrong. He’s also never explicitly stated he was against the LGBTQ community (both in the past & now) either, and he hasn’t said anything even implying the topic of sexuality since like 2ish years ago. So I think from what happened with this convo, and based on Yixing’s own philosophy about considering criticisms seriously, he’s been careful and continued not to mention the topic or make any statements about it. He was simply having a teasing conversation with a fan, jokingly calling out “infidelity”. That’s all I can comment on, knowledgeably. 

Keep faith Jonsa fam <3

With S07E06 it’s easy to lose faith in the ship and so many people are reasonably upset but fret not! We still have plenty of points that are still as valid as they were prior to this episode.

Let’s go through them and calm down, alright? (For Jonerys shippers, people are allowed to ship whoever they want. Please don’t take this as an attack to your ship.)


Here are some summarised points just to refresh yourself on why this ship makes so much sense!

1) Sansa being the first Stark to reunite with Jon, forming a bond between the two. Think of all how refreshing it was to see Jon and Sansa smile on screen for the first time in forever, and how crucial it is for developing the plot!

2) The marriage symbolisms in the scenes they share. Sansa is cloaked in(what I assume to be) Jon’s cloak when she first arrives at Castle Black. She then cloaks him in the Stark fur she makes him(and he’s worn it ever since - even on the cliff at Dragonstone). They both have also shared a drink together, which just paints more wedding imagery. Not to mention, Jon has promised to protect her(sounds like something you’d vow to your partner).

3) How their scenes are shot in a particular way that may suggest a foreshadowing of them being endgame. Candle lit rooms, gentle snow falling and panned close ups of anytime Sansa’s grabbed Jon’s hand/arm.

4) Bickering like an old married couple while still empowering each other and Sansa reassuring the Jon that he’s good at ruling thus giving him the confidence he needs and reminding him that he’s a Stark to her. Wow I love a supportive dynamic. Nothing but mutual respect from my two children.

5) How well they work together and how they balance each other out. Jon of course being the military man, and Sansa being more politically savvy. Wow, Westeros is shook at this power couple.

6) The Ned and Cat parallels. I don’t even need to get into this one because there are plenty of sources out there that have pointed this out!

7) Littlefinger’s panned close up of him looking at Jon, then looking at Sansa as if he’s putting two and two together. This is incredibly significant considering the event that led up towards it could be seen as Littlefinger trying to see what would make Jon tick.

8) Angry Kitten Jon i.e. the strange way in which we see him react to different people bringing up Sansa. Choking Littlefinger, glaring and not being interested in discussing her with Tyrion, Sansa being the only reason he chooses to spare Theon. Davos’ close up right after his interaction with Theon. Very suspicious.

9) Them mentioning each other even when they’re miles apart. It’s an odd thing to note that Sansa keeps saying she wishes Jon were with her and that she hopes he comes back soon, meanwhile we also have Jon not being able to escape the mention of Sansa.

10) Jon taking notice of her new silk dress. Remember when he said he’d want to see Ygritte in a silk dress… so he could tear it off of her?

11) The forehead kiss and lingering gaze. They could have reshot this if it wasn’t meant to give off any other vibe that wasn’t perceived as brotherly. 10mill for that last episode, just saying.

12) The deleted scene. In which Jon tells Ghost to stay behind and protect Sansa.

13) Name parallels in both the Stark and Targaryen family tree. There was a Jaeherys Targaryen(some people think this may be Jon’s true name) who married an Alyssane(which is remarkably similar sounding to Alayne - Sansa’s adoptive name while she was in the Vale. But even if it turns out his true name isn’t Jaeherys, there’s still the Jonnel Stark that married a Sansa Stark. Now that’s on the nose.

14) Sansa giving his new life purpose. When we see Jon after he’s resurrected, he was ready to abandon his post as Lord Commander. Sansa walks in just in time, and she gives him a reason to fight for - the reclamation of Winterfell. Jon is truly reborn when he resurfaces from the crowd and we see in him something that’s been missing throughout the season - purpose. Then he goes and knocks the sh*t out of Ramsay.

15) The Prince Aemon/Joffrey bit. Ned had promised her someone brave, gentle and strong like Prince Aemon, noting that the match with Joffrey was a mistake. This happens in Season 1 and in the 1st installation of the ASOIAF books. In the 3rd installation of the books, Jon recalls a time where he and Robb would be training as kids, referring to himself as Prince Aemon the Dragonknight.While in the show in Season 7, we see Jon get insulted at the thought that Sansa might think of him to be like Joffrey - to which she says he’s as far as Joffrey as anyone she’s ever met.

16) Sansa’s hair. This is often overlooked but I remember reading that when Sophie Turner got her role, she asked the producers why she had to dye her hair. They told her that it’s actually important and crucial to the plot in some symbolic way. Let me just point out to you how most if not all the women in Jon’s life that he’s been involved with in some way or another has had red hair. While this seems like merely a coincidence that’s not worth bringing up, it could be tied to the validation he never received while growing up - of Catelyn’s(who had more of an auburn shade), and Sansa who took after her mother in never accepting Jon fully.

17) Janos Slynt. Sansa had wished for a hero to behead Janos Slynt(in the books). Jon ends up beheading Janos Slynt(in the books and the show). This has a romantic connotation since the hero always falls for the princess in the songs.

18) How their arcs almost reflect and mirror each other throughout the story. Both Jon and Sansa had romantic ideas of the world that are debunked by reality. Jon believing the Night’s Watch is a place of honour, and Sansa having her whole reality flipped. (My poor bbs </3)

19) How their arcs are at one point reversed. Sansa finds herself born into a position of power in the beginning, while Jon was a bastard. She then at finds herself being the bastard, while Jon is raised up as Lord Commander. This is good to take note of as they now have a better understanding of each other respectfully.

20) How them getting together would literally give them both what they wanted as children. Sansa’s always wanted her prince(and since Rhaegar annulled his marriage, Jon is a Targaryen Prince), and Jon’s always wanted a family and to live in Winterfell(+ deep down I’m sure he’s always craved the validation he was denied as a child growing up in Winterfell - he had hoped Ned would have the King legitimise him).

21) Poetic justice. How fitting would it be to have a situation that started out from a Targaryen/Stark wedding to end with a Targaryen/Stark wedding(this time done right)? Too perfect.

Those are some of the points I could think of straight off the top of my head, without taking into account the points that stand against D*enerys. I wanted to make sure this post was as positive without having to be perceived as me taking a go at D*ny. But, for the purpose of making this complete, let’s see some points against that ship(you can stop reading at this point if you only want positivity, but I’ll try to be as rational!)


1) The argument that J*nerys together makes the Song of Ice and Fire. This is a questionable point since there could be many interpretations of what’s truly Ice and Fire so I’ve never found this to be persuasive. You could argue that Jon is the Song of Ice and Fire himself, since it’s been revealed that he is both Stark and Targaryen.

2) D*enerys’ story arc serves as a foil to Jon’s. The reason why these characters seem alike is because they seem to mirror their positions throughout the story. However, if you take a closer look - D*ny has risen to power on account of her birthright and dragons, and she has actively sought out her power. Meanwhile, Jon finds himself in a position of power not because he wants it or has a birthright, but because people want him to assume that position(like being elected Lord Commander and then crowned King in the North).

3) The highlighted differences between these characters. In Mereen in Season 5, we see D*enerys sentence a man to death but have Daario Naharis carry out the sentence in front of her people as a deterrent. This has always been interesting to me because she cannot bring herself to look at him as he is being beheaded. It reminds me of the saying that he who passes the sentence should swing the sword. In the same season, we see Jon behead Janos Slynt himself.

4) The direction the show seems to have taken in relation to D*ny’s methods of ruling. Yes, I do agree that you’ve got to be more and more ruthless as you hold more and more power but it’s interesting to me how they’ve decided to shoot her scenes lately. There’s her insisting that she is Queen(Tywin: “Any man who must say “I am the King” is no true King.”). Then we are asked to empathise with the Lannister army for the first time in the series - with Ed Sheeran’s cameo meant to humanise the soldiers, and the Field of Fire 2.0 battle being shot from the Lannister army’s point of view - of devastation when going against a weapon of mass destruction(Drogon). To top it all off, she displays ignorant hypocrisy - saying she wants to break the wheel but only when she’s already on top, deflecting and ignoring any attempts Tyrion makes to talk some sense into her(we’ve seen Tyrion trying to deny that she’s being irrational while with Varys, and mentioning that she’s known to lose her temper), telling the army she’s not there to murder them and then giving them an ultimatum of bending the knee or dying, and burning the Tarlys alive. That last point is interestingly enough never brought up with Jon the same way the maesters don’t inform Samwell - which makes me feel like it’s been left out for now, for a reason. It’ll come back and change Jon’s perspective of her further.

5) Contrasting D*ny’s ruling methods with Sansa’s. While D*enerys’ loot train attack destroyed the food that would have fed the people, in the same episode we see Sansa trying to ensure that her people are fed. It’s there for a reason. For us to be able to extract and juxtaposition these two together and start questioning who would make a better Queen - a ‘foreign invader’ and conquerer who uses her weapons of mass destruction to pave a way for her on the Iron Throne, or the key to the North who has learnt how to play the Game of Thrones from arguably a few of the best players(Cersei, Margaery, and Littlefinger).

6) Cersei’s Prophecy of the Younger, more beautiful Queen. People seem to overlook this when it’s actually quite indicative of endgame. People are also quick to assume that D*ny is the Younger Queen that would talk all that [Cersei] holds dear. But how could she be? D*enerys had nothing to do with the deaths of Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen. Sansa did. Although unknowingly. Sansa was the one who informed Olenna Tyrell of how much of a monster Joffrey was - this set the chain of events that led to all three of Cersei’s children’s deaths. While Margaery could be perceived as the Younger Queen as well - she had no clue of Olenna’s involvement, and furthermore - Cersei still has Jaime while Margaery has already been reduced to ashes. So, if Jaime were to sometime in the future join forces under Sansa, she would fulfil the prophecy. I highly doubt that Jaime would be keen on joining D*enerys after what he’s seen her do with fire - I’m sure he was getting war flashbacks, poor guy.

**I’d like to mention and give fair warning that past this point, I’ve hinted at some things that happen in E06 so if you want to be absolutely spoiler free, please stop yourself from reading further. Or, you could go ahead and read only the bolded first line of each point!**


7) A marriage between D*enerys and Jon serves no greater purpose. We are reminded that D*ny is barren(please don’t make it seem like I’m picking at this being her fault and hating her for it, I’m trying to be rational), she cannot give Jon an heir(children he’s always wanted though I don’t doubt that if he truly loves someone he wouldn’t mind giving that dream up, so don’t see this as me trying to pit two women against each other for the sole reason of one not being able to have children). So the Targaryen lineage would truly die with D*enerys if this marriage is realised. Furthermore, the North will not accept a Southern ruler, and will always follow the Stark name. If Jon bends the knee, not only will he be giving up what his family fought for, but he would be betraying the wants of his people. If it is revealed that he is Targaryen and it’s made public knowledge, the marriage that makes the most sense to maintain peace is if he marries Sansa - a Stark, since Jon would be abdicating his position as King in the North by bending the knee and Sansa would still be Lady of Winterfell as she has the Stark name. On the topic of children though, for some reason in E06 we keep getting hints of possibly foreshadowings of Jon having his own children - specifically when Jorah doesn’t accept Longclaw, saying it would serve [Jon]’s children well - and then the scene cuts to Sansa and Arya.

8) Jon possibly playing D*enerys is not completely OOC. Take into account what he did with Ygritte, then take into account the number of reminders he’s had this season alone. Sansa reminds him to be smarter than Robb and Ned, and one of the other Northern Lords reminds him that Robb rode South once, married a foreigner and lost the North. What’s the one thing Kit Harrington says about Jon this season? That he’s beginning to listen to Sansa. You may argue that it’s character assassination to have Jon, who’s so pure, resort to manipulation but he could be putting his family and duty first - he needs to do what he can to secure her alliance. In fact I think it’s more insulting to his character if we were to assume that he would deliberately give up the North without first consulting his people, let alone Sansa. It’s way past time Jon plays a little bit of the game, it does his character justice to develop and learn from past mistakes at least that much. Of course, there’s also guilt following the events of E06 during the wight hunt. Let’s not forget D*ny’s prophecy that states that she will be betrayed thrice - once for blood, once for gold and once for love(this last one has yet to happen).

9) The Odysseus/Penelope/Calypso parallel. I saw this going around at some point and it’s been quite popular ever since! Unfortunately I’m not too sure who the original source is, but please feel free to tag them below! They made a link between the three greek characters with Jon, Sansa and D*ny respectfully. Calypso had detained Odysseus on her island for some time, while Penelope stayed behind and ruled on behalf of him in his absence. Odysseus and Calypso end up sleeping together but in the end, he comes back to his Penelope. It’s not to say that I like the idea of Sansa being ‘second’, but I’m choosing to interpret this in a way that guarantees Jon coming back to Sansa despite the boatbang.


That concludes this little list/semi-meta(?) I’ve never taken a go at these, in fact I’m pretty sure this is my second time making my own textpost. Again, the point of this was not to put one character against the other just so we can be satisfied with our ship. You are allowed to ship whoever you want to! I simply felt the need to bring these points up again because the night is dark and full of red-herrings.

Please try to leave this post as hate-free as possible. If it appears on the wrong tag, I apologise. But if you were secure with your ship then you wouldn’t feel the need to come at me. Although if you do still feel the need to defend a certain character, no one’s stopping you - just be respectful! x

Last but not least… can we just… appreciate these two. (I saw this gif online but I’m not sure where, apologies if it’s yours - all credit to you and please don’t hesitate to let me know.)

It Wasn’t Real (part ten)

Summary: You’re part of the infamous Loser’s Club, and often asked, what are you afraid of? You reply, nothing, but what your friends don’t know is that your biggest fear is them.

prologue - one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight - nine - ten eleven - finale

A/N: We’re nearing the END GUYS!

I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Send me a little comment in the ask section or leave it below on what you thought of this chapter. It doesn’t have to be long, I appreciate every single comment I receive and telling me just helps inspire me to write it more frequently.

Pairing: Loser’s Club x Reader, slight Henry x Reader (you’ll see) Richie x Reader.

Warnings: force, bullying, depressing and sad tones, and sexual abuse (mild) plus Henry being a dick, like an extreme dick, so…. AND DEATH….

Tag’s List: @chalatea - @darlingimafangirl - @chalatea - @myfriendmagislit -@frozenhealswrites - @fl0werb0nes18 - @emotionallyenterprised - @alec-lighwccd - @bellasett - @starshininginthedark - @tastefulcaring - @impulsivesuperrobin - @newtandthediamonds - @huge-waste-of-time​ - @jess-sxcks​ - @theoraekensnotsosecretlover​ - @moonageharry​ - @nieligator​ - @sufferingstilinski​ - @the-fantastic-fandom-dork - @horsiesandstuff​ - @arianamichelle04​ - @alloffmyships​ - @darlingimawriter​ - @gcnnyweasleys​ - @redvelvet-cupcake​ - @almusanzug​ - @d0nt-g0-imagines​ - @brighter-thanthe-sky​ - @murphamy-minefeild​ - @celestesfairy​ - @fly-like-a-grayson​ - @emrysaaryn - @holy-minseok - @antiherojason - @multifandom-states - @mysticsthinking - @ladyfairenvale - @crazyinlovewithbatman - @shaniacboogara - @welcometoourcomputershow - @17marvelousfreak - @funtik2011 - @anon-leaning-against-a-trashbin - @terrashrone - @im-fandom-trash - @mrgrytyrll - @ponyboys-sunsets - @captainslugcat - @eachandeveryfandom - @queenylime - @catwoman2502 - @1enchantedfantasy1
I will no longer be adding anyone!
bolded is who I couldn’t tag.


Originally posted by edsgazebos

“I-I don’t understand…” Beverly mumbled, hugging herself as your words dawned on her. 

“Richie saw IT.” You announced, gesturing over to said boy who look liked he’d been caught doing something illegal. You hated to call him out like this, the Loser’s still talked to him whereas you’d only really recently started speaking to them. If he knew, they would question why he never said anything. But you ignored it, focusing on the task at hand. Stan. Stan was the task at hand. “I saw IT and it has Stan. I tried- tried to ignore it but I can’t anymore. Not when Stan needs us.”

“Richie?” Eddie asked softly, and all you could hear laced in his tone was fear. Your intense gaze fell on Richie, who looked back from you and your friends. You had faith in him; he’d promised he wasn’t going to abandon you on this. He’d been the one and you knew he’d pull through.

Sighing, Richie nodded. “I saw IT. It’s back.”

“H-How do you know it has Stan?” Bill asked.

“IT wrote the words “WHERE’S STAN?” in my bedroom.” You explained, hesitating before you finished. You felt everyones eyes on you and you were unsure if you should say the rest or not. But you reminded yourself that they needed to know. “In blood.”

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I can’t believe I even have to type all this bullshit out but it’s the first and last time I’ll speak of it. If y'all choose to believe anything that comes out of Adam’s(Santeria) mouth then honestly I feel bad for you. He’s a self delusional narcissist and anything he has to say is most definitely a lie. I’m not one to air out anyone’s business and I’ve refrained from doing so for almost 2 years but when other people get hurt and fall into the same thing I went through with him then I feel obliged to say something. Adam would constantly threaten suicide anytime I mentioned I was unhappy and wanted to leave the relationship. If I wanted to see friends by myself he wouldn’t allow it and claimed I was being unfaithful. I lived in constant fear and anxiety especially because the dumb ass I was moved in with him and had to put up with his twisted logic daily. I lost my sense of self the time I was living with him and was in so deep that I honestly believed I would be nothing without him. It didn’t start like that but it’s what it turned into. He puts up a front and plays the victim constantly to bring people to his side and make them feel bad for all the unlucky events he’s been through and I fell for it at first. When I was fully dependent on him he made sure I knew it and I was terrified of doing anything that didn’t include him. When I stopped being interested in sex he blamed it on my meds and made me stop taking them. I spiraled into a deep depression and completely fell for all of his lies. When he expressed that he wanted to have sex with someone else while we were together he blamed me for not being considerate to his physical needs. Adam is not a well individual. His explanation for cheating was that he has a “sex demon” living inside him that he needs to feed or unheard of evils will happen 🙄 he also mentioned that he sees “sparks” that illuminate when someone is interested in him and they tell him what to do. I told him he needed to seek professional help but he denied having any illness and that these “sparks” where part of brujería passed down from his family. Still when I threatened to leave he would always play the suicide card. Meanwhile my mental health is already declining and I don’t know how to escape this situation without infuriating him and becoming potentially violent. I told my extended family about the situation and they told me to pack my bags and they’d be there as soon as possible. When Adam left for work the next day he left me three notes. Two written in what amounts to a third grade level of poetry and the third was one he said I wrote to him about the first time I realized I loved him. It was in his handwriting. Adam is a delusional and potentially dangerous person that needs help and you should all stop enabling his abusive behavior. It took me two years to write this cuz I considered myself done with the situation as soon as I packed my bags and left but now that others are going through what I went through something needs to be said. I don’t want anything to do with him or anyone that associates themselves with him.

movie shoot. extra | m

characters: christian yu x reader (feat. song minho) ➵ genre: smut ➵ wc: 2.4k 

Originally posted by jisatsusakuru

summary: short follow up to the previous movie shoot. christian wants to play a very dangerous but rewarding game. includes phone sex and the reader receiving oral.
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Falling Deeper

Originally posted by 13reasonssource


Pairing: Justin Foley x Reader

Request: “Hiii LOVE UR BLOG SO FREAKING MUCH IT HURTS❤️❤️, i was wondering if you could write a justin x reader imagine, where the reader and Justin have been friends for a long time and everyone thinks they’re dating but they’re not. Like they would flirt, have inside jokes, feeling for each other(but won’t admit) and one day when Justin asks the reader to crash in her house cuz of Seth they confess their feelings and flufff”

Words: 2.000

A/N: OMG! This my first Justin imagine and I so loved this little nugget too. Thank you for your support and I hope that you like this one too. Thank you so much for your request and, if you want, please don’t hesitate to leave a feedback in my ask box.

- G. x

Warning: (Y/M/N) is Your Mother’s Name, talking of family issues, swearing.


“Am I seeing you tomorrow, Jus?” You confidently asked your best friend as you decided to go directly home after your classes. You were in the hallway, in front of your now-closed locker.

“Of course, pretty.” He winked at you and you let out a loud laugh. He was a great flirt and that was one of the characteristics you loved in Justin.

“Shut up, sweet talker!” You tried to cover the romantic excitement that flowed in your veins and he just hugged you as he knew that you loved it whenever he would compliment you.

“Take care, okay?” He reminded you as you nodded for several times to answer. You hugged him back.

“Just get together already!” Your friend Jessica exclaimed as she got through you and Justin along the hallway. She winked and you saw that Sherie agreed with her. They were surely making their way to the gym for the cheerleading practice.

“But they’re already together.” Zach shouted to the girls as he shut his locker and followed them.

“Idiots!” You shouted as you broke the hug between the two of you. “I’m going now, Mr. Foley.”

“Alright, Mrs. Foley.” You both laughed loudly. He started to call you in that way, because you both had to pretend that you were husband and wife the day before. Some maniacs were trying to hit on you and he came up with that idea, it sucked but you loved it.

“You should take care too, okay? Don’t break a bone during your basketball practice.” You reminded him after you left a quick kiss on his cheek.

“Yes, Mum!” He rolled his eyes and gave you a kiss on your temple. With that kiss, you felt protected and it felt that Justin was with you, even though he’s not walking you home that day.

“Go on or you’ll be late.” You smiled at him as you both went in separated ways.

“Text me as soon as you get home, okay?” He walked in backwards as he wanted to see if you were already walking away.

“Yes, sir!” You huffed as you wanted to stay with him a little longer, but you had projects to finish and coach Patrick never let people to enter the gym during his teams’ practices.

You slowly walked back home and Justin never left your thoughts. He stayed in your mind even when you were doing your homework.

You loved Justin, because who wouldn’t, and he made you happy every time. He could be considered as an asshole by some students, but you knew that he had a kind heart. He could be weak too, mostly when it came to his family, but you always knew how to cheer him up and how to mend his broken heart.

People has always thought that you were together, because you couldn’t be you without Justin and Justin couldn’t be him without you. You completed each other, even though you were just best friends. You flirted and sometimes people mistook your actions, but you never admitted your feelings to him. You were obviously shy to admit it, you thought that it was flustering because you didn’t know if he felt the same towards you, even though his friends said that the feeling was mutual.

“(Y/N)!” Your mum called as dinner was ready and you didn’t notice it as you were so focused on finishing your Communications’ project and thinking of Justin. “Dad’s not home before 10 pm and he told me to not wait for him.”

“I’m coming.” You shouted as you ran downstairs, stopping in front of the front door when you heard the bell ringing. “I’m opening it.”

“Sure!” Your mum shouted from the kitchen as you heard the glasses clinking while she was preparing the table.

“Justin!” You worriedly called his name as you opened your front door. You were happy to see him, of course, but not after seeing his dull gaze. “What happened?”

“Can I,” he started as you saw him angry and down at the same time. “is it all right if I crash here tonight?” He bit his lower lip as he looked at the ground. He was so shy to ask you some favours, although you’ve been best friends for a long time now.

“Of course, Jus!” You sadly smiled at him as you already hinted that something was wrong in his house. You let him enter the house and you closed the door behind you. “Have you already eaten?”

“Uhm,” He felt more relaxed and relieved that he finally found someone who could help him for the night, although you were really his first choice. “not really.”

“Then have dinner with us.” You smiled as him as you pulled his hand and headed to the kitchen.

“Good evening, (Y/M/N)!” Justin politely greeted and your mum flashed him a sweet and welcoming smile. You let his hand go as you took his blue sports bag off his shoulder.

“Good evening, Justin.” Your mother greeted. “Have you had your dinner yet?”

“He didn’t, Mum.” You answered for Justin as you knew that he was feeling a little bit uncomfortable. After all this time, he was still shy around your mother.

“Oh, eat with us!” Your mother panicked as she put an extra plate with a glass and the cutlery.

“Thank you.” Justin warmly smiled as he felt loved. You knew that he didn’t get much attention from his mother like how you did and he had serious problems at home, that was why you always tried to be there for him.

The three of you sat on your places and you shared a warm and delicious food together.

“Mum,” You seriously called her attention as you carefully chewed your food. “can Justin stay for the night?”

“Yes, of course! The guest room is always ready for him.” Your mother smiled sadly as she sensed that Justin had his family problems once again. It wasn’t the first time that Justin was crashing in your place and he has been welcomed by your parents with their arms widely opened.

“Thank you, really.” Justin was overwhelmed for the help that he was receiving and it made you love him even more because he knew how to appreciate the small things.

“Justin, you are always welcome in our family. Don’t hesitate to ask for help, okay?” Your mother reminded and Justin smiled while nodding in response.
After dinner, Justin helped you to clear the table and to wash the dishes.

“Jus,” You called him as you turned the faucet off and wiped your hands to dry them. “do you want to watch the stars?”

“Cheesy night ahead?” He winked at you and his gaze became bright once again. You knew that he felt better, but you still wanted to talk about it. He couldn’t keep his resentments to himself.

“Don’t you like it, Mr. Foley?” You hugged him from behind while he was drying the last plate.

“I do, Mrs. Foley.” He responded and you just let out some cute giggles. After some seconds, he put the last plate on its place and he wiped his hand using the towel.

You and Justin then headed to your house’s roof with two blankets and some chocolate bars. You used to do this when you were little and you would fall asleep on the roof while watching the stars with your parents.

Justin fixed one blanket on the flattened part of the roof and you both lied down on the blanket as you admired the starry sky.

“These stars are so bright.” You commented, being amazed at the protuberances that you were seeing.

“But those stars aren’t as bright as my life with you.” Justin sweetly said as he looked at you and you suddenly felt the heat in your cheeks.

“Aw, Justin!” You were flattered and you wouldn’t deny that. He knew how to make you smile and, in fact, he flashed you his warm smile when he saw you smiling.

“(Y/N), I am so happy to be with you right now.” He looked back at the sky and he sighed as he thought of his situation at home.

“And I am happy to have you here, Justin.” You smiled at him as you saw that he was focused at admiring the dark sky.

“And I thank you for that.” He seriously said, searching for your hand as a tear ran down his face. “Seth’s been stressing me since he came back to my mother. I was already happy that they broke up, but my mother kept on welcoming him home, although she knew that he would hurt me, although he hurts her too.”

“Jus, your mother has just loved somebody that couldn’t appreciate things. He’s an asshole, I know that, but it wasn’t your mother’s fault.” Justin intertwined his fingers with yours as you explained him how the things really were.

“I know, it’s just that I don’t feel that my mother cares about me anymore. I mean, she would stumble to serve that reckless ungrateful man as if she’s a maid.” Justin sighed as he worried of his mother. He cared for his mum and you couldn’t deny how great he was as a son.

“Justin,” you faced him and caressed his cheek with your free hand. “it’s not fair, but your mother is blinded by her love. Unluckily.” You sighed. “I am sure, though, that she cares about you. She’s just afraid to show it, because Seth hates you to death. She’s afraid of the consequences.”

“What a fucked-up situation.” He bit his lower lip as he shook his head, switching his gaze from the sky to your face.

“I know, but I am here for you Justin.” You caught each other’s glances and he smiled at you.

“Honestly?” You put on your questioning look and he looked at your lips and then he looked back at your eyes. “My world got better since you came into my life.”

“Aw, Justin.” You flashed him your flattered and touched smile. “You’re the sweetest.”

“It’s the truth and I would never lie to you.” Justin caressed your cheek as he tucked a strand of hair covering your face.

“Why is that?” You put your hand on his and you caressed it with your thumb. Your hand was small compared to his and you were amazed because it was so soft and smooth for a boy.

“Because I’m falling deeper in love with you.” He confessed his feelings and you felt the heat and the burning sensation in your face one more time. “I love you, (Y/N) and I don’t want to lose you.” He was brief, but he knew how to explain his hidden feelings.

“Justin, you are the sweetest person ever.” You bit your lower lip and he flashed you his sweetest smile, that smile that you loved the most in him. “And you would never believe it, but I love you too, for a while too.”

“Really?” His eyes grew wide as the words flushed in his mind.

“Really!” You gave him your confirmation and his smile grew bigger, just as big as yours, teeth confidently showing.

He leant in as he was about to close the gap between the two of you. He was really a gentleman, even though he seemed an asshole. “Can I?”

“Is that even a question to ask?” You winked at him and you leant in a little bit closer as you both laughed loudly.

You both moved forward and you closed the gap between the two of you. The cold breeze of air stung your skins and the stars shone up in the sky while you shared a long and sweet passionate kiss.

You waited for that moment to happen for a more than a century now and you couldn’t believe that it happened as you felt butterflies playing in your stomach.

You surely were happy and, like Justin, you were falling deeper in love with him too.


“All I’m saying is, if you’re going to use the dishes, then maybe you could wash a few dishes!”

“I wash dishes!”

“Running a little water over them and leaving them in the sink is not washing them, Sam!”

“Just because I don’t always wash my dishes the second I’m done eating–”

The second you’re done eating?! Sam, do you see this bowl here? Little bits of lettuce and salad dressing and bacon bits? We both know it’s yours. You used this four days ago!

Dean and Sam storm through the bunker kitchen, arms flailing, feet stomping.

“I’m just so sick of doing all the cleaning around here!” Dean shouts, slamming a pot into the sink.

“All the cleaning? All the cleaning? Really Dean? When was the last time you put away a book?”

Dean groans. “Help me out here, Cas. Tell him–” Dean looks around, brows furrowed. “Uh, Sam? Wasn’t Cas here?”

“Yeah.” Sam says. “He did it again.”

Dean sighs. “He really hates it when we fight.”


When Cas blinks back an hour later Dean is re-shelving books (in their proper places) and Sam is cleaning the kitchen. “Sorry Cas,” Sam says. “Dean’s in the library.”

Cas nods and turns to go. “For the record,” he says, “I like it better when the dishes are done right away, too. But I feel the far worse infraction is Dean waiting three weeks to do his laundry.”

Sam’s surprised laughter follows him down the hall.


Dean has the last three books in his arms when Cas walks into the library. He looks up, a concerned look on his face. “You okay, Cas?” He sets the books back on the table and meets Cas, searching his eyes.

“I’m fine, Dean,” Cas says, a smile playing at the edge of his mouth. “I just needed to…get away.”

“Where do you go?” Dean asks, suddenly curious. “When you get irritated or angry and you zap away, I mean. Do you have someplace special you like to go?”

Cas looks away. “I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you,” he mumbles.

Dean closes the rest of the space between them, putting his arms around Cas. “Well that settles it then. Now you have to show me. You can’t be all mysterious like that and just leave it.”

“You don’t like to fly,” Cas says evasively.

Dean kisses his forehead. “I like to do anything with you.”

“Alright,” Cas says, resigned. “Let’s go.”


Dean gasps.

“But this…this can’t be…” He runs his fingers through his hair, turns in place, stares at his surroundings in disbelief. This just isn’t possible.

He recognizes the place, of course. He had been here with Cas. He’d sat right here (only there was a chair then), looked across this lake, at these trees. He’d looked up into warm blue eyes, blue as the sky…

But this is impossible, because that had been a dream.

He turns to Cas. “Where are we, Cas? Because this…this was in my head.” His eyes widen as a thought strikes him. “Please tell me we are not in my head.”

Cas gazes at soft white clouds passing lazily overhead. “No, Dean. We are not in your head. This is real. We’re in Minnesota.”

Crouching on the dock, Dean splashes his hand in the water. “Wet. Cool.” he mutters, more to himself than to Cas. Louder, he says, “I still don’t understand. How can this be real?”

Cas sits next to Dean, who sits properly and scoots closer to Cas without much thought. Their feet dangle over the edge of the dock, their shoes about two inches above the clear water. “When I visited you in your dream, I knew right away you were dreaming of someplace you’d seen before. The setting was too clear, too detailed, to be anything else. Most dreams are, well, dreamy. The immediate area may seem normal but the edges are hazy. Your dream was sharp. It all felt real. You must have come here with your father, or maybe with Bobby, when you were a small child.”

Dean shakes his head; not denying anything, just trying to find a lost memory. “Definitely Bobby. Dad never took us fishing. His idea of a vacation was a nice, relaxing salt and burn. I don’t remember it, though.”

A splash makes Dean jump. “Just a fish,” Cas says, taking Dean’s hand and squeezing it gently.

Dean laughs. “I’m used to more perilous situations, I guess.” He looks at the trees surrounding the lake, noticing the lack of people or cabins or even other docks. “Cas, this place seems to be in the middle of nowhere. How did you ever find it?”

“I believe the expression is ‘like finding a needle in a haystack,’” Cas says drily. “It took over six months of searching. Finding a person is fairly simple; humans each resonate with minute differences. But to find a specific dock on a specific lake…I had to use my eyes. I had to fly to lake after lake. I had a good guess that you were in the United States, because I didn’t think you’d traveled out of the country as a child, and there was a bit of snow in your memory, so I started with the northern states…” Cas waves his hand as if to indicate it hadn’t been too bad.

Dean gapes at him. “Six months? You spent six months flying around looking for…this?” He slaps his free hand on the dock beside him and then rubs the back of his neck. “Cas, why?

Cas looks at Dean with genuine surprise in his eyes. “I was here with you, Dean. You clearly felt peace here. I wanted that too.”

Dean leans forward and captures Cas’s lips with his own. After a moment he pulls away, breathless. “Did it work? Does this place bring you peace?”

“Always,” Cas says, a smile in his blue eyes. “But it’s better with you.”



supernatural hiatus creations || week seventeen | sets or scenery - Dean’s dream dock

PLEASE HELP MY FRIEND

My friend needs help and wanted to make a donation post anonymously through me so please read below:

My name is Maleek Saint (using a different name for safety reasons). I am an afro indigenous queer non binary femme who is currently struggling with basic needs. I am asking if people would be kind enough to donate anything to me and when I mean anything, anything means the world to me. I do currently have a space to sleep, but only have 20$ left on me and am struggling finding employment. I have been to over 10+ interviews and have filled out that many applications as well and have been denied due to lack of work experience or not meeting criteria, I will continue to my work search. I am in this situation because of abandonment from my parents and living on my own/finding my own way around life by myself has been extremely difficult. Please help, even if that is just reblogging or donating $0.50, anything is appreciated. I am trying my best to get out of this and hope to find work. Thank you for taking your time to read this and even demonstrate any sort of concern/caring loving character. I love you all. <3 below is my donation info: 

cash.me/$maleeksaint

Kiss Land

Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: Matt Murdock was an insanely great kisser. And he absolutely loved to put his lips to use. 
Genre: Romance/fluff
Rating: T
Warnings: Swearings, minor character death (just a mention), implied sexy times
1,752 words

Notes: While I finish the requests I have in my askbox, I decided to post this Matty one because I’m on his mood. <3 Just a silly one-shot without all his Daredevil drama (sort of). And also because I rewatched the kiss scene between Claire and Matt. Too many times. For my own good. Remember that italic parts are flashbacks. SO…I hope you enjoy it! ^_^


If there was something in your life that you just couldn’t deny, was that being Matt Murdock’s girlfriend had its fair amount of perks. 

In an overall, you were always safe, knowing he’d step up into the situation whenever something could happen. Sometimes it had some downfalls, but his senses were another great thing since he’d always know when and how to help you when you needed. 

And the list could go on and on, but there was one little thing that you completely loved the most and would always drive you crazy:

Matt Murdock was an insanely great kisser. 

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baby boy (m)

Title: baby boy

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Jungkook/Reader

Status: Complete


Originally posted by jjks

Part I: 

You enter the café, the bottom of your sneakers squeaking against the wooden flooring, as you spot him in a booth near the back. It’s quite late at night, and the weather only seems to be getting worse. Deep down, you know you should have just ignored his text and gone to sleep. First, because you have work in the morning. Second, because  you’re no longer an intern at BigHit and you therefore have no reason to be in the same vicinity as Jeon Jungkook. But you never were good at turning him away.

Not then and certainly not now.

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I Shouldn't

Originally posted by apasource

Characters: Archie x Reader

Word Count: 768

Warnings: Angst

Anon Request: Could you do an Archie x reader where reader dated Archie but saw what happened between him and Ms. Grundy, so she leaves for the remainder of he summer but than shows up for school, and he sees her at the dance, and you can go from there :)

A/N: Im sorry this one isn’t super long! But nonetheless i hope you enjoy it!


<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>


You and Archie had been dating for a while. You’d both already felt comfortable enough saying I love you to each other in public. Everything was going great. Until that one fateful afternoon this summer. 

 You’d packed a lunch for Archie and yourself. You knew how hard he worked at his father’s shop and knew he could use some good food. After making his favorite and throwing it into a small carry on, you trekked your way over to the little run down building it was all located at. 

You looked around and recognized some of the usual workers but couldn’t find Archie. You asked around but no one seemed to know where he was. That’s when you looked around the back of the building. There he was, making out with Ms. Grundy, your music teacher. 

 You stood there in shock not knowing at all how to handle the situation. Not wanting to make a scene you ran, unnoticed by the two who’s lips were hot and smashed against each other, hidden by those who weren’t looking. That night you sent him a brief message saying your relationship was over and that you just wanted to be left alone. 

You knew you should go to the police and report it, after all, it was a teacher with a student. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to do it. When school started again you switched from Music to French. You couldn’t look at Ms. Grundy without wanting to find a trash bin and heave into it. 

Once or twice she tried to approach you, wondering why one of her best musically talented students would suddenly drop her class but you would always finding an excuse to be somewhere else. Archie always tried to talk to you but you ignored him, staying silent and praying he’d leave you alone. And from then on you would cry yourself to sleep every night wondering why you weren’t enough. 

 The back to school semi formal was tonight. You weren’t going to go but after being confronted by your best friend Betty you decided you wouldn’t let the thought of him take away your fun. You got ready together, along with Veronica who was a new friend of Betty’s you didnt mind. 

 She had amazing style and helped you choose your dress and do your hair and makeup. The three of you looked fabulous when you walked through the school doors and it couldn’t be denied. After a few songs you had danced together you excused yourself to go get some punch. 

You regretted the decision when a certain red haired someone approached you while you held the ladle. “Y/n?” He asked. You looked up at him with a glare. “What?” You replied sharply. A slow song started to play at that moment. “May I have this dance?” He asked nervously. You let the punch fall back into the bowl as you set your cup down. His brown eyes pleaded with yours and you couldn’t resist. “Fine.“ 

He grinned to himself and immediately held out his hand for you to take. You hesistantly took it as he led you to the dance floor. His hands landed on your hips as yours awkwardly became placed around his neck. You were very close to one another now. "Why did you break up with me?” He asked after a minute of silence. 

You scoffed. When his face showed that he clearly don’t know you shook your head with a bitter laugh. “I saw you Archie… you and Grundy at your dads shop. I don’t think I need to explain any further.” He immediately went to deny it but you shushed him. 

 "You cheated on me with a fucking teacher Archie. I thought you loved me.“ "I do!” He argued instantly. “If you did, I would’ve been enough for you.” You stated as the song came to a close. “Y/n.” “I’m sorry Archie. If you want my advice, tell the authorities about your situation, you should be lucky I haven’t already." 

You move out of his hold and go to leave when he grabs your arm. You immediately rip it out of his grasp and give him another glare. "I just have one more question, and then I’ll leave you alone… forever.” You looked at him expectantly. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?” You looked down as tears started to form. 

When you looked up again you were able to stare down the pained expression Archie was showing. “Because no matter how much I tell myself I shouldn’t, I still love you. And I hate it.” That’s when you ran away, never to be bothered by Archie again.

Pins and Needles (Negan x Female)

Summary: She’s always been invisible to Negan, but when she agrees to become his wife to get medication to control her pain, she sets out to make him finally see her.

Characters: Negan x Female

Word Count: 3,871

Warnings: NSFW, Smut, Fluff and Swearing

Author’s Note: This fic was requested by @dicktator who sent:

I was wondering if I could get a fic with Negan x Chronic pain /fibromyalgia sufferer? I suffer fibromyalgia, and I haven’t found many fics I can relate in that aspect. Can be whatever you want, smut, fluff, whatever!

Okay so I didn’t know that much about fibromyalgia before writing this fic, but I love a challenge! I did some research, and I hope this turned out okay. I had a ton of fun writing it and learned a lot! @dicktator if this isn’t to your liking or it’s not accurate please let me know and I will write you another fic.

Thanks a bunch to @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash and @ashzombie13 for being my beta readers!

I am always happy to hear what you think! Shoot me a message and tell me what you thought!

Originally posted by negandarylsatisfaction

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i feel like i need to say this

recently, a lot of information has been brought to my attention, especially that of people copying my art, and copying specific pieces to the point where they’re just redraws. this isn’t the first time this has happened, unfortunately, but the fact that i found out about so many of them at once has brought me to have to say this. i’m tired, so very tired of emphasizing that my art, and all art, is more than just lines and colors. the fact that people feel comfortable reducing my work to just stock photo references makes me unexplainably sad. everything i draw has a very personal backstory behind it, and i wish for people to respect that. i of course, unfortunately, cannot make anyone respect me,

however, i’ll put this out there. we all start somewhere, and getting inspiration is not something unusual. you don’t have to deny it. if you reference something, just credit the person, that’s the least you can do. there’s no need to tell me that my art is “overdone” and “generic” just to justify the fact that our pieces “coincidentally” look alike. you don’t have to hurtle insults at anyone when they tell you that something like this makes them uncomfortable.

i make this post because i am tired, and the more and more i deal with situations like this, the more uncomfortable it makes me to share my art with the world. what’s the point of me drawing anything if it’s “generic” and “overdone” and “nothing special” and “anyone who has ever held a pencil could do some crappy shit like that”. you don’t have to call me a “shitty tumblr aesthetic” to admit that you enjoy my work.

thank you all so much for your support. you all mean a lot to me, that you enjoy my work and continue to do so.

2

Has Hollywood changed you over the years? I can’t deny that it’s had an effect, but I think it’s a positive one. Instead of trying to figure out how to play the game, I’ve come to realize that it’s more important to remind myself that I don’t have to win today and I don’t actually have to play at all. Obstacles and hurdles are man-made. I won’t say it’s not useful to self-reflect, but I realize the part of you that’s fueling the self-reflections actually more akin to your ego than to the situation you’re in.

I'll fall for you soon enough

[Rosvolio, also on ao3]


Benvolio knew but very little about his soon-to-be wife. But one thing he did know was this: she was a proud woman, and asking did not come easily to her.

So when Rosaline Capulet asked something of him, he listened.

Rosaline had stayed sullenly quiet on most matters concerning their impending marriage, mostly speaking up on aspects that concerned her sister in some way. Whenever they met with a variety of representatives of both their houses to plan this practical aspect of the ceremony or that, she seemed wholly disinterested in the topic, and only reluctantly involved herself if pressed to do so.

But when her uncle brought her to the Montagues’ family seat for one such afternoon of planning, her usual withdrawn behaviour seemed tinted with uncharacteristic trepidation, and when Benvolio offered his arm to lead her up the stairs, her grip was far too tight to be considered proper on a woman who had been raised a lady.

At first, he only took note of her distraction to escape the boredom of listening to their uncles try to outdo each other with tales of their business acumen. But the longer Benvolio watched his betrothed, the more intrigued he became.

All morning, Benvolio kept finding proof that something was wrong with Rosaline. She seemed tense, skittish, barely managed to stay in her seat as her eyes frantically dashed around the room, jumping from one lower member of his house to the next. She tried to hide it, of course, not one to easily bare her vulnerabilities, but when the gates opened downstairs to let in a whole group of Montague men, freshly returned from a ride out with their horses, she actually flinched at the sound of their boisterous laughter, and her already strenuous grip on her cup of sweetened wine tightened even more.

It was only once the heads of their two houses had declared it time for a break that he found out what was behind her sullen mood.

After a light luncheon, Lord Montague invited them all to come see the new statue gallery recently installed in the inner courtyard, one of the largest and finest collections of contemporary art in the city. His uncle’s claim, though no doubt stated mostly for Lord Capulet’s benefit, was true, Benvolio knew: The gallery boasted statues by the most talented and original artists of the day, and Benvolio, the only one in the family with an eye for the arts, had made sure they were arranged in such a way as to best display their individual beauty.

It was this part of the house they were headed to now, and with Lord Montague busy watching Lord Capulet for signs of displeasure at being thus upstaged, and Lord Capulet determined not to show any such sign, it was easy enough to pull his bride away from the central aisle and towards a small stone bench set between two statues.

“You are unusually quiet this morning, Capulet.“

They had gradually come to be on friendlier terms, but not so much as to make him actually call her by her given name - though the privilege would by rights be his, since they had been engaged for some weeks now. He had, he thought, made a valiant effort to hate her, as the bloody tradition of their families and his own bruised pride demanded. For a brief moment after Romeo’s death, he had even attempted to blame her for it somehow - but then, he was just as much to blame for the tragedy that had ripped away their houses’ heirs.

But Benvolio had never been a man to whom hatred and resentment came easily, and smart, headstrong Rosaline was a difficult woman to hate. He may bristle at the way she turned up her nose at him, may feel the urge to take her down a peg or two with a well-aimed barb from time to time. But now, two months into their engagement, he only antagonized her for sport, and his jabs were merely meant to sting, not wound.

Now, Rosaline showed once more that candidness he had admired, even envied in her before: She neither tried to evade his question nor to deny his observation, but came straight out with her answer.

“I have a favour to ask of you.“

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SLEEPY LIFE OF SERVAMP OVA 3-TRANSLATION

Rejoice my fellow Sevamp lovers! I have been asked a couple of times for this and I just wanted to say thank you for all the nice messages and even the mentions in the tags where you guys liked the translations I was able to provide.
THANK YOU SO MUCH! ヽ(=^・ω・^=)丿Thank you for being patient and also being the most awesome fandom! ☆*:.。. o(≧▽≦)o .。.:*☆

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