I take this personally as a Brit

Connecting the dots...

So on Tuesday, a blind item was written about Louis and Eleanor reuniting and signing a “new deal” in the process.

  • Priming the fandom at large: About about a month was spent on social media likes and follows and articles from about the minute the Douis break-up announcement hit until Sunday of this week (19 February 2017).
  • The blind item: On Tuesday (21 February), a blind item was published on our old friend Blind Gossip’s website. Yes, I know it’s a blind item. Yes, I know Blind Gossip lies out it’s ass 99% of the time. But this blind was written to specifically speak to larries. They framed it as a contract relationship (read: fake) and that it was a “GOOD thing” she was coming back, despite fan (read: larrie) reservations. Then they went on to say the person (Louis) was considering signing a new deal with this person (Eleanor). 
  • Sony Pictures: On Wedensday (22 February), Jojo was called to take pictures of Louis at the Sony offices in West London just hours before the Brits. She DMed an update account and said the pictures would not be published that day. Despite some indications Louis would attend the Brit Awards, he did not (and we all know the weird shit show that followed). 
  • The Reunited Article: To no one’s surprise, the article the pictures were published with was about a Louis/Eleanor reunion, thus implying Louis was in on the pictures and the content of the article. 

So, if we follow the very obvious crumb trail here, fans are meant to believe:

  1. Antis, Elounor Shippers, Ex-Larries, etc. - Eleanor and Louis are back together and God is real again and the larries will finally shut up! BABY + ELEANOR=LARRIE KRYPTONITE! 
  2. Larries - If we assume the blind item is correct, then maybe Louis did sign a new deal with Eleanor at Sony this week, and that means she’ll be around for a while. And we know that their public trips to Sony (Liam and Louis’ specifically) are often followed by dumb shit (Chiam baby, babygate). 

Basically, the trail is obvious. It emboldens the antis, but the blind, especially, was designed to speak to the “exhaustion” of the larries. We talk about it all the time. What’s the worst case scenario for some of us? 2 Louis stunts. The end of babygate but the return of Elounor doesn’t sit well with some of us, either. 

So it becomes a little easier to rationalize Louis wants to remain closeted, that he’s made this choice, that “we don’t know what’s going on behind the scenes,” and that part may be true. But the way this has been set up on a silver platter for everyone, twisted just the right way for each audience, made for public consumption since the beginning of time, is why we shouldn’t believe the bullshit, even when it’s been manufactured to speak directly to us as a subset of this narrative. 

I think Eleanor, at this point, is going to be around at least a couple of months, maybe a few more, and it’s important that we just don’t let the demons shout down the better angels in our brains, so to speak, and allow the exhaustion and confusion and the images we’re seeing break us. Because that’s what they’re designed to do. 

So just hold on. :)

New Year. New Me. {Peter Pan Imagine}

Part One  Part Two Part Three

Peter Pan Imagine

Author: Joi A. Wade

Tagged: @tmrhollandkay, @ arfrona

Requested: Yes,  HI CAN I HAVE A EXTREME FLUFF IMAGINE WITH ROBBIE KAY OR PETER PAN WHERE YOU GUYS GET INTO A REALLY REALLY BAD FIGHT AND YOU DECIDE YOU GUYS SHOULD BREAK UP AND HES LIKE NO BABE WAIT IM SORRY AND YOURE LIKE NOPE I CANT DO THIS ANYMORE AND THEN YOU LEAVE AND HE CANT FUNCTION WITHOUT YOU SO HE TRIES TO WIN YOU BACK AND IT TAKES A WHILE BUT ONE DAY HE FINALLY WINS YOU BACK EXTREMELY FLUFFY PLEASE

Note: Thank you all for being such amazing people and being patient with me! Thank you for loving my slow ass, and my stories, it means a lot that you guys stick with me!


It’s been a while since Y/n had seen him. Never had she thought the time would come that he’d be finally calling her phone, in such a long period of time. Six an a half years is a long time to wait. Especially for an ex. 

“I’m glad you had time to see me, Y/n. It’s been so long.” 

Y/n smiles politely, looking down at the cup of tea her company had ordered for her. 

“Well, I gotta admit, it was quite the surprise when you called, Newton.” 

“Newt. Please, call me Newt. You’re one of the very few that I allow to, and…I miss how it sounds coming from your mouth.” He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck in nervousness. “S-Sorry, that um..sounded bloody creepy, but you get my point.”

Sighing heavily, her politeness was slowly starting to fade away. She knew what this was, she wasn’t stupid. In the past six years Y/n has gotten not one phone call or text message from this guy, and then all of sudden here he is acting all awkward and charming at the same time. Setting her cup down after taking a short gulp of it, she finally makes eye contact with the man before her.

“Look, Newton. Things didn’t work out between us because you loved your music more than I.” 

“That’s not true-”

“Let me finish,” She holds her hand up, silencing him. “I was understanding, I was fair and actually wanted you to be happy and let you go. I moved on. Which was a mistake, I’ll admit, but it helped my unhappiness turn into something else. I fell in love again. And now that I am once again heartbroken, you decide to turn up, saying sweet nothings to me as if all of what you put me through never happened. Now how is that fair to me? ” 

“Love, I came back for you because I realized my only dream was with you. You were my dream.” 

“Oh, cut the bullshit.” 

Newt’s eyes widen at her venomous tone. Last time he had spoken to Y/n, she had such a sweet demeanor about herself, everything about her was kind and gentle. Earlier on this little gathering she was calm and collected, but now she is speaking to him in such a way he had never heard her speak before. 

“What’s happened to you?” 

“Life, Newton. Life fucking happened to me. You wanna know what I’ve been through? You leave me for your stupid music career, not even returning my calls or emails or letters. Then, when I finally move on to another guy, I find out he’s cheating on me with some bitch for nearly half of the time we’ve been together, then trying to make me seem like the bad guy! And now that I’m somewhat over him, you show the fuck up! Out of nowhere!”

“Love, calm down-”

“Don’t you tell me to calm down! I deserve to be fucking mad! I put up with so much, sticking up for guys that don’t deserve it, and I wonder why I end up the same way! Heartbroken!” By now, she was starting to draw attention to their table, alarming a certain few while the others watched with anticipation. Newt stands up slowly with his hands up, trying not to provoke her any further. 

“Y/n, please, I didn’t mean to struck a nerve-”

“Bullshit!”

“Can you please talk to me without cursing at me, for bloody sake?” 

“I just think it’s a coincidence how you show up, right when I start to get out of my funk and feel better about finally leaving that dickhead. Were you just waiting for the perfect opportunity to make your way back into my life? When I was at my most vulnerable? Well, news flash for you, buddy! The only thing you’re getting from me, are these hands!”

Y/n was about to jump right over the table and tackle the poor, confused, Brit. Luckily, someone was able to grab her by the waist at the right time before she could even cross the table. Holding her close to their chest, Newt was able to take a few steps back, while making eye contact with the person behind her. Y/n squirmed against their hold, until the familiar scent of pine clogged her nostrils. Her squirming ceased. For now.

“Who the bloody hell are you?” 

“Oh, you don’t remember me, Newtie? I’m hurt, I thought we had something special.” 

Once Newt’s eyes actually scanned his face, he glared. Lowering his hands from his self-defense stance, he crossed them over his chest. “Very funny, Pan. I see that you didn’t change at all. Except for getting uglier, of course.”

“And you’re still the same after all these years, as well. Except you’re still single.” 

Y/n pushes away from Peter with great force, nearly knocking him backwards. Straightening out her shirt, she huffs in anger. “What the hell are you doing here? Where’s your little sex toy?” 

Peter drew his attention to Y/n, the playful glint in his eyes turning melancholy. 

“Y/n, I know I am the last person you want to see right now, and I understand that. I was a completely asshole, and deserve to burn in hell for what I did behind your back. But, if you give me a moment to explain-”

“So it’s you.” Newt connects, as a grin started to form on his face. “You’re the one who cheated, while you were still in the relationship with Y/n. Did you honestly think you would get away with that?”

“Can we talk somewhere a little more private, love?” 

“No. And don’t call me that. We can settle this right here, right now. I’ve been waiting to actually kick your ass, now that the tears finally stopped. Do you realize how humiliated you made me feel after that night? How absolutely filthy you left me? And you had some nerve to try and blame me! The only person that saw good in you, cared for you, loved you!” Each word spoken was a shove to his chest, which he happily took. He was just glad that she was actually talking to him. 

“I understand that you are in pain-”

“Oh, you can’t even begin to understand! Giving your love to someone who you thought was the one, only to have it blow up in your face, you have no idea what that feels like!”

“I could’ve warned you in the first place, Y/n. It’s your own fault for thinking a bloke like Pan would ever-” Before he could finish his unneeded input, Y/n picked up his cup of tea and threw what was left of it into his face. It was just hot enough to prove a point: for him to shut the fuck up. “Ahh! Mother of fu-Jesus Christ! Shit, shit, shit, shit! Bloody, burning hell!” 

Newt rushes to find the nearest bathroom, a few workers following behind him, as others just stare in shock or gaze in amusement. Placing the cup back on the table, Y/n turns back to Peter, with rage darkening her eyes. 

“Y/n, I-”

“I thought I told you to stay the hell away from me. How did you even know I was here?” 

“That’s not important, what’s important is us fixing this problem that we have-”

We don’t have a problem! You do, and only you! I was perfectly happy being with you, I didn’t care what people said about your past relationships because none of that mattered, it’s in the past for a reason! I didn’t care when they called you bad news, I didn’t care that my parents didn’t approve of you, and I didn’t care how much we argued over stupid shit! What I cared about was you, and how much I loved you. You were there when Newt left, you were my friend, someone I could talk to when I needed it. You listened, you cared…And when you asked me out, I thought moving on was too good to be true, but you changed that. And look where it got us! Five fucking years I gave to you, and this whole time that was just a game to you.”

“It wasn’t a game-” 

“Hearing a lot of bullshit today, you know. You knew exactly what you were doing, Peter. And you knew the person you did it with I despised, yet you still did it anyway.” Tears were starting to form in her eyes, as the heat of the moment was dying down and reality was coming back to her. The man that broke her already bruised heart was standing right there, with the guts to say that he didn’t mean what he did. What does he take her for, a fool? 

“Y/n, what I did was unforgivable, we both know that. But, love, I regret it.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? Three words that don’t matter at all to me? I regret giving you my time, mind, body and soul. I regret thinking that scum like you could ever change. I regret loving you, Peter Pan. So I’ll say it again, since you obviously didn’t listen the first time. Stay. The hell. Away. From me.” 

With that said, Y/n left money on the table and took her leave. Storming outside the door, she roughly wiped the single tear that escaped her eye before anyone could see. 

She was so over crying.

But, the sound of the door chimes made her stop only for a second. He seriously could not be trying to chase after her, could he? The rapid footsteps confirmed that prediction, making her bite the inside of her cheek, to stop herself from doing anything she’ll regret. Again. 

“Y/n, please! You gotta listen to me, love-”

“I don’t want anything to do with you, Peter. Just crawl back to wherever you came from, and forget we ever existed. Let me move on! Live your own life, so I can get on with mine!”

“Y/n, baby, I’m begging you!”

“Nothing you can say or do will change my mind, Peter-!” 


“ M A R R Y   M E ! ” 


In that moment…everything just stops.

From the noisy traffic, to the beating of her own heart. 

It was silent.

With her covered mouth agape, Y/n stands there in complete and utter disbelief. Seeing that he now had her attention, Peter slowly descended to one knee, staring up at her with eyes that were filling with tears. 

“Y/n L/n. Will you marry me?”  

  • Public: I can't wait for Rihanna's new album full of hits and electronic music
  • Rihanna: you know what? fuck you this is my most personal record and I'll party and get personal.
  • Public: I can't wait for Beyoncé's album full of twerking and hip-hop and party.
  • Beyoncé: you know what? fuck you, here, have my soul and the life of a real african-American woman and a real family suffering.
  • Public: I can't wait for Britney's new album she's gonna give us old school Brit and hits, she's gonna be back to the clubs.
  • Britney: you know what? Fuck you im gonna take my time to make a quality full body album with good vocals and fun music for me and my fans.
  • Public: I can't wait for Gaga's album and forget Artpop, I bet she's gonna slay every pop artist and be back at the top charts.
  • Gaga: you know what? Fuck you this is my most personal album and I'm doing something different again, this is my real life and my real voice.
  • Let's appreciate for a moment these talented women who once ruled the charts and now are doing art for the sake of art; and they're better than ever, off or on the charts.

thegaypumpingthroughyourveins  asked:

"don't I get a kiss for luck? It's kind if tradition, right?" - Graves to Newt before battle

( @thegaypumpingthroughyourveins I know I’m terribly late, but I hope you had a happy birthday, sweetheart ♥ )


“Director Graves,“ Seraphina waltzes in his office like she’s owning the damn place, which isn’t entirely wrong, but still “that was completely unnecessary.“ She fixes him with the stare. He already loves where this conversation goes to.

“Was it?“ Percival says, avoiding her eyes and busying himself with the papers on his desk. Seraphina knows he doesn’t want to discuss the matter, but she’ll make him listen anyway, so  Percival braces himself for the good old scolding.

“Percival.“ Her tone is softer, but there still is sternness in the way she gives him a piece of her mind. “It was completely unnecessary to call for a duel with the new British ambassador.“ He met her gaze, knowing eyes boring into his. “I heard, he was rather“ She slightly grimaced before continuing “rude to our consultant magizoologist, but that surely didn’t mean you have to” The corner of her lips twitched into a smirk “punch him square in the face - a very unattractive one, I must add - and to call him for a duel.”

“Sera, come on, you were here, you heard what he called Scamander.“

“Yes, I did, and I would defend him too, if I were in your place.“ At Percival’s surprised face, she snorted. “Of course I would. My employees go first. But, I’m not in your place, and seriously, Percival, who in their right mind would duel you? You won’t leave the guy any chances, and I don’t want problems with the British Ministry.”

Oh, so this is the root of all this boring monologue. Of course she wouldn’t want problems, not after Grindelwald. They need to cooperate, to find comrades in every country. British Ministry of Magic is no exception.

Politics never interested Percival, but he would do as Seraphina says most of the times. Except this one, he couldn’t just overlook or pass by as if he didn’t hear or see a thing. It’s important to protect and show your dedication to the one you deeply care for, and so happened that Scamander is that person.

“It’s late to change anything, Sera.“ Percival says, his eyes meeting her with no hesitation “He accepted the challenge. Tomorrow, we will duel and nothing’s gonna change that.“

“I know,“ She rolls her eyes at him in exasperation “that’s why I’m here.“ He raised a thick eyebrow in question. “To tell you to take it easy. We don’t need a war with the Brits, because of another two Brits.“

“I really can’t promise anything.“ Percival shrugged and grinned at her annoyed huff. He’s going to have fun hexing the bastard, and more importantly, no one will stop him.


The dueling arena at MACUSA is really impressive and it also has a lot of space for those who find watching wizards dueling each other entertaining. Of course, Percival couldn’t blame them for being excited, after all, one of the duelists is the director of Magical Security himself. Nearly half of MACUSA came to see the show and he isn’t going to disappoint them, Seraphina’s words be damned.

Walking to his corner, Percival takes off his coat and jacket, leaving these into the waiting hands of Goldstein. Beside her, Scamander nervously throws him short glances and worries his bottom lip between his teeth. Percival would groan externally, if he could be sure it won’t come out obscenely, but as he doesn’t trust his vocal cords, he does it internally, and not without adding some other obscenities to complete the picture in his mind.

“Mr. Graves, I-“ Scamander’s voice makes him focus on the man “You shouldn’t, really. I am used to being called things. It’s not the first time, nor the last, so you don’t have to-“

“Shh.“ Percival shushes and approaches the man, his fingers straightening the straps on his thigh, the wand tucked in its sheath. He flexes his fingers and observes how Scamander’s blue eyes follow their movement. “Now, Newt.“ At the mention of his name, the bright eyes snap up and look into his without breaking the contact. Percival loves his eyes, because there are always genuine emotions pictured in them. There’s surprise and slight confusion in Newt’s eyes and they still as Percival approaches him further. “I will not allow anyone to say such things to you or about you anymore, so you shouldn’t get used to such attitude.“

The surprise and confusion grow, but a new emotion slips on Newt’s face. It’s happiness and it makes Newt’s eyes sparkle even more beautifully. Percival smiles at him, and tries to fool around.

“Don’t I get a kiss for luck?” He says, the humor clear in his tone. “It’s kind of tradition, right?“

He expects a smile or maybe even a short laugh in response, a friendly pat on the back, a good luck charm without any words. Or a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently in silent gratitude. What Percival never expected is warm, plush lips brushing against his cheek and lingering there a tad bit longer than should to be considered a joke.

Then Newt whispers silently a promise of more, if he wins the duel, and Percival never felt this motivated to win before.

anonymous asked:

there would be no members of a marching band in ravenclaw bc outside of the army marching bands are not a thing in england. or anywhere in the uk. you need a better britpicker. orchestra and music groups, sure, but marching bands are very military and have no place in schools here

I can assure you I don’t need educating on the british school system having spent 70% of my life in it thank you very much. Hello from Berkshire by the way. And seriously? If people from other countries want to relate their own school experiences to Hogwarts just let them? Is it really that big a deal? I know we Brits like to make a hobby of shitting on the Americans but maybe we should all get down off our high horses and just let people imagine a Hogwarts marching band if they want to jesus christ

On callouts, positivity, and fandom

I have spent most of the day (and night- I even slept on it) mulling over whether to post this or not- but in the end I feel like I should say something.

To those who don’t know, a fanfiction writer in our Miraculous Ladybug fandom, deleted her fic due to a callout post which caused a lot of people to swoop in and make vicious, nasty, downright rude comments- a callout post which was made before the OP even contacted the fic author to discuss her work! Luckily I saw some rational, kind arguments from both sides, so I haven’t lost all hope. But I will be addressing the negative sides of this debate.

I am not here to talk about the fic itself, I’m not here to discuss “but Midnight! It was problematic” nope. That’s not part of the discussion. I don’t give a damn because at the end of the day, all I saw was a kind person- trying their best- being bullied. One person against hundreds of people. That’s not fair. That’s not right. Imagine how you would feel if that were you? It should not be happening in our fandom. It would be different if this person was deliberately and willfully spreading vitriol and hatred, spreading problematic ideals with the kind of “eff off I do what I want, I’m right and you’re wrong” mentality I’ve seen others possess- and they had a large enough following to essentially “protect” them. That was not the case here. 

This was a case of someone with a large follower count not thinking through the consequences of their words or actions (but has realised as such now and somewhat apologised) and as a result of their callout, discourse, drama, and bullying happened.

I’m here to take a different approach- one of sympathy and compassion. You all know me, it takes a lot for me to get angry and I scarcely ever comment on things like this. Because I despise drama, discourse, or any other version of “shit stirring” as we Brits like to call it.

But this person? The fanfic writer who was vilified by certain people in fandom? Yeah. She happens to be someone I know- and I had to watch her be utterly humiliated in a public, shameful fashion. That- to me- is completely unacceptable. She is a sweet, kind, caring person new to the world of writing, who was trying really hard to improve despite the fact that English is her THIRD language. She is devastated. Ask yourself how you would feel if something like this happened to you?

And now she’s traumatised enough to feel like she never wants to try writing again, despite the fact that I knew full well she was trying to improve the story (talking to actual people who experienced the content she was trying to write) so she could handle the story in a more realistic way- before she was quite ruthlessly called out and became so upset and embarrassed that she just ended up deleting the whole thing, believing that nobody would like her work ever again and that her fanfic writing career is dead.

The sheer hypocrisy of this website astounds me sometimes. How we can so desperately want to “set a good example” for the young people who follow us, and then proceed to do something as thoughtless as starting a witch hunt against one person? How is that better? How does that improve things? How does it “set a good example” to the young people who follow us? You think something in a community is wrong so you proceed to bully someone until they run away? Great job! What ever happened to constructive criticism? That really made this a safe space didn’t it? NOT.

We, as a fandom, are better than this. We should be lifting each other up, not tearing each other down. See something problematic? Critique, discuss, educate. For the love of god we owe it to each other! The world is a shitty, scary place enough as it is without turning on someone who had good intentions but whose execution was skewed.

Lord knows I’ve been triggered by things before in the past. Horrendously triggered- back when trigger warnings weren’t a thing and there was no way to prepare myself. But I didn’t do anything like this because I was always aware that there’s someone on the other end on the screen. There’s a person there.

And that’s what some people forgot yesterday I think- that on the other side of the screen there was a human being- a human being with different experiences to you, different levels of what they find acceptable, a human being looking at the world from perhaps a different lens to yours and their writing reflected as such.

Fanfic writers, by nature, are an island to themselves. We very rarely have anyone filtering our work. It makes sense to call out films, tv shows, media meant for consumption, because those things were seen by tens, if not hundreds, of people before they went to the viewing/paying public- they had a chance to be edited/problematic points considered. Fanfiction writers don’t have that luxury- so perhaps we should be a little more forgiving no?

Fanfiction writers, just like fan artists, are a part of this community too. They are real people. And, as mentioned before, we should be DISCUSSING and critiquing problematic content like rational, mature adults, setting good examples for the generations after us.

This is the last I’m going to say on the matter before I drop it once and for all. Like I said in an earlier post- this blog is a blog of positivity, of sharing love and spreading happiness to all! I believe, and will ALWAYS believe, in making the Miraculous Ladybug fandom a place where people can feel safe, where we spread joy and lift each other up, where we help each other improve in ways we could never possibly dreamed. I didn’t see that yesterday and that’s a shame. But I know we can keep getting better guys! I know we can make it so something  like this doesn’t happen again. I’ve already talked to the OP of the callout post and it was nice and friendly, and civil in the way I expect this fandom to be. OP has publicly apologised for the nature of the callout post and I’m glad for that! See? It doesn’t have to be so drama-llama-ding-dongy! It can be talky-talky-good-good! ^O^

So let’s all take a deep breath, move on, and continue to make this fandom the best one on tumblr ok? ^_^

anarielle  asked:

Oh goodness, I meant to say this earlier, thank you for reblogging my humble little story! :O Work is still busy but I'll definitely keep writing on weekends. The idea of a fluffy Graves (flouncing around everywhere and shedding fur all over Newt because the man seems to have the self preservation instinct of a dodo and he had saved Graves' life so he needs to stick close okay? It's not because the Brit gives good ear scratches or has a sweet smile or anything) is too precious to pass up. :P

(whoops, I meant to answer this earlier so I think we’re two for two!)

And yes you fabulous person, a thousand times yes. In fact. In fact, let’s take this and run with it.

The issue, the biggest issue about being an animagus, is that when you’re a cat you’re… a cat. Cats have different priorities to people. Cats see the world in a different way, and Graves isn’t just talking about being a foot off the ground or filtering out the reds of the world to leave a decidedly blue-green tint to everything.

As a cat, Graves thinks differently. Not a lot. Not enough to lose his grasp of logic or to forget his plans and his goals, certainly not enough to impede his reasoning or his ability to carry out his missions. If anything, it helps - cats are straight forward. No worries. No distractions. No silly fretting about whether or not it would be appropriate to drape himself over a certain British wizard’s lap and demand head scritches, because dammit, Graves wants the British wizard and his feline half wants the head scritches and when Graves is a cat, that’s all the matters.

When Graves is not a cat that last bit causes issues.

“It’s important to maintain a good cover,” he says in as calm and even a tone as he can. Is his face scarlet. His face feels scarlet. Oh god his face is scarlet. “A cat that didn’t act like a cat would only raise suspicions, and the point of a covert guard is to avoid that. So.”

“Oh, I completely understand,” Newt says earnestly. “And I do appreciate you taking the time to look out for me.” He smiles, slightly awkwardly, slightly lopsidedly, and in a rare moment of self preservation Graves diverts his gaze to the lapel of Newt’s coat.

There’s cat hair on Newt’s coat from where Graves stood on Newt’s lap and rubbed himself over Newt’s chest to demand petting. Evidence. There’s evidence. Oh god.

“MACUSA owes you a great debt,” he assures at a completely normal pitch, not high and squeaky, oh dear me no, “Grindelwald’s lackeys could be lurking anywhere, can’t have them get to you, good lord is that the time please don’t do anything dangerous got to run bye - “

And the worst part is, he can’t even curl up under his tail to hide from the mortification (cats, unsurprisingly, are incapable of feeling shame and it’s something Graves has hidden behind several times in the past) because his damn traitorous cat self will just march straight back to Newt.

This is ludicrous.

Ludicrous.

Is he or is he not Percival Graves? His will power is stronger than a fucking cat. He refuses to be barred from his own animagus form like this. Let the world know, head scritches have no power here. Hah.

Preposterous.

As if Graves would ever.

He’s a grown man, damnit.

Head scritches.

Honestly.

“They could strike at any time,” he stammers out to Newt the next day because no, no Graves is not stronger than his cat self.

Newt’s smile is less awkward this time but no less lopsided, and he’s not wearing his coat but instead has his sleeves rolled up and there’s black fur all over his white shirt, particularly around the shoulders where Graves draped himself like a fucking sybaritic scarf and really, Graves should just go. He should. He should throw himself in the Hudson, see how his cat self likes that.

“If I was a dark wizard,” Newt begins carefully, “I should think I’d work at night. People are more vulnerable when they’re sleeping, aren’t they?”

It takes Graves a second to process the implication there, and then a few seconds longer while his brain completely checks out because did Newt just ask him to spend the night did he really what 

“Well,” his shameless cat self says in is that a fucking purr oh god, “I can hardly leave you vulnerable, can I?”

Graves would like it known that he’s outnumbered. Also that Newt is far too cute when he tilts his head like that with his pupils blown wide like that and darts his tongue out to lick his fucking lips and basically, no one’s playing fair.

On the plus side though, Newt’s hands can give a lot more than head scritches.

We don’t like to do too much explaining,
story stayed the same through the money and the fame,
cause we…
STARTED FROM THE BOTTOM NOW WE’RE HERE ♪

As loyal readers may or may not remember, my original plan was to faithfully follow legacy rules and slowly build a greek house for the kids, using w/e money we had in junior year. Well, the road to hell is paved with good intentions! Which doesn’t really apply here but i like saying it. I’m actually not sure I even get what it means. Point is the nll update came in the meantime and despite my lawful intentions I was too done to build a house, so we commandeered the sorority house, banished DJ and co in the sim bin, added a gorilla statue and our proud letters (U-U-U) and here we are! I gave the house an extensive 10 minute makeover, bringing our funds to an impressive:

NOICE. We’re gonna starve but at least we’ll do it next to our bowling alley. Joining us in this glorious endeavor are Brit Brit, Melody and Frances J, while Wyatt and Ti-Ning have pledged and are expected to move in shortly. I doubt the sim world has ever seen such a bunch of assholes under the same roof.

Our first night is off to an incredible start, as everyone is starving, no one knows how to cook, we’ve ordered both pizza and chinese food and are thus completely broke, and megabitch Brit Brit has been hitting poor Fran with a baseball for 3 hours:

-Ooops, I did it again >:)

Idk but I have a feeling me and Brit are gonna get along great!

Finally, it looks like Fran is concussed enough to make a move on Jojo, which marks the start of the 3-man race for his tiny, vicious heart. Place your bets and take some dramamine cause it’s gonna be a wild ride. 

Case in point, it’s a new day in a new kitchen and Jojo’s mind is occupied by thoughts of everyone’s fav french-arabian prince, Wyatt Monif. Since Wyatt is a pledge and there are term papers that need writing we invite him over..

..and things are heating up. You know, if heating up means Jojo continues to be a pain in the ass and still doesn’t have a crush on Wyatt even though they’ve made out a hundred times. Jojo WHAT IS YOUR DEAL

-It’s called being a stone-cold motherfucker, you should give it a try. Now Wyatt, just because we’re best friends and semi-lovers doesn’t mean you’re still not a lowly pleb pledge completely at my mercy, so don’t get any ideas.

-Of course not, I’d rather die than disappoint my dear Jojό!

-Well let’s see which happens first.

-Oh, don’t worry, Gunthèr, it is I who will win Jojό’s heart!

-Yeah, I’m the complete opposite of worried.. whatever that is.

-Calm?

-WHATEVER THAT IS

-..Are you sure college is the right trajectoire for you?

Finally. THE TIME IS NEIGH. Hope you’re all ready for Ti-Nings personality panel……………………

………………………………………LMAO. Perfect Jojo match!

RICH BITCH CONVENTION. Seriously these 3 have a combined of what? 7 nice points? Put them all together and you make one bearable person.

-Aw, Jojό, is that a hunting knife in your pocket or are you happy to see me?

-I’m happy to see you!

-Ok I lied it was a hunting knife.

-Oui, I can tell :(

Small dick jokes aside, Wyatt is now not only officially in love with Jojo but apparently ready to commit his life to this monstrosity. Which you know, Jojo is a Union and I’m under contractual obligation to love him but Wyatt, seriously. You’re still young, a lot of fish in the pond, normal, nice, non-serial-killing fish..

-LOCK.THE.WANT.

Fine, can’t beat young love I guess! I mean if Romeo and Juliette teaches us anything…

…it’s that only death can.

For whom the bell tolls..

Oh Max……….. the pleasure will be all mine.

One last kiss for the road… The road which leads to me never seeing Max’s fug clone ass on Jojo’s panel again.

Oh you’re a crafty one aren’t you!! Trying to charm your way out before I lock you in!! Thankfully Jojo has your number.

-Absolutely not, Max, I already have 3 people pursuing me, this is just excessive! Now get in there and die!

-Ugh fine, but my heart’s not gonna be in it.

Meanwhile, disaster has struck our house in the form of that stupid fucking coach, resulting in me facing the sight of Gunther doing lunges in this indescribable outfit. I don’t know how long it will be before I can look at him with the same eyes again.

-I suffer now but Mel is gonna thank me later ;)

Remember when you were an innocent weird little kid and not a sex demon??? Those were the fucking days.

Back in the yard and while the world awaits Max’s demise with bated breath, Frances has resorted to pulling dirty tricks. For shame, what did Wyatt ever to do to you, he’s a sweetheart!

-Well I’m not. And that’s why I deserve Jojo, unlike that family-aspiration-6-nice-points flop.

Yea you definitely deserve each other, no arguments here.

OH MAN, Wyatt is not playing around, he’s in it to win it. 

-Your move, Frannie. 

-Name your price, you french harlot. 

-Forget about it, mon ami, can’t buy me love.. Though I’m sure you’ve tried with that mug.

OMGGGGGGGGGGGG FINALLY

-Ohoho suck it, Fran, I’m going napoleonic wars on your pasty british behind!

-Yes, that’s an apt metaphor considering the FRENCH LOST. Don’t get comfortable, pal, you won the battle but I’ll win the war.

-EXCUSE MOI, CAN’T HEAR YOU OVER THE SOUND OF JOJO FALLING IN LOVE WITH ME

I don’t mean to interrupt this thrilling conversation…

….BUT WILL MAX EVER EAT THE FUCKING CAKE

-Please bitch, the cake is a lie. 

God, fuck you, Portal, you overrated piece of shit.

Seriously guys, Wyatt is diabetes-inducing-sweet. He doesn’t even get mad when the cow does that pillow fight thing on him, instead he actually starts playing with him? What an angelic creature. I’m really starting to feel the urge to protect him from Jojo. If that plan goes as well as my plan to kill Max, WHO IS NOW BIRDWATCHING, you can count on them getting married by the end of this shitshow.

This rando ass prof comes to visit us and Ti-Ning has been mercilessly bullying him for the better part of the day. Ti-Ning, as much as I appreciate your relentless evilness, maybe you should focus your energy on something else, like perhaps going after Jojo aka THE REASON I MOVED YOU IN?

-Lol whatever, I have Jojo in the bag, he wants the one he cannot have…

Yea he also has 2 hotter guys than your bird ass after him, so time to step up! I mean look at this shit:

Wyatt has the relationship advantage, Fran the chemistry one, and you have shit even though you’re the biggest freak of the 3 and the closer one to Jo’s terrifying personality points! Take what is yours boo!

NOOOOO #REJECTED. Man that was some bad advice. Sorry Ti!

-UGH can’t believe I listened to you, ‘express my feelings’, what am I, 12?

Yea yea I’m sorry, let’s go back to your strategy of being a massive bitch.

The day is coming to an end. Jojo is eating pizza while his suitors work out..

 Gunther is back to doing ballet while Brit has picked up the mantle of torturing the prof..

AND MAX HAS YET TO DIE. JFC. At this rate he’s gonna die of hunger before he gets eaten which is not how I roll, I wanted something quick, painless and fun for his murder but WE CANT HAVE NICE THINGS CAN WE. Even in death you decide to be a fucking pain in the ass GOD. YOU ARE THE WORST. While I’m contemplating ways to solve my little Komei clone problem a little window pops up and my first thought is ‘someone died of hunger’ but then I look and what do I see….

A PLOT FUCKING TWIST, THAT’S WHAT. Our good Jojo here waited until Wyatt and Fran were conveniently both at class to go for it! And now the real race for the crown begins. In the game of thrones, you win or you die birdwatch next to a cowplant, apparently. JUST DIE ALREADY MAX. Be a pal.

It’s hard to talk about anything in the wake of a terror attack. We’re hurting, and we’re angry. But we need to talk about how we react to these attacks, because a good portion of our society continues to strike out blindly at the largest and easiest target, making the situation worse. Yes, I’m talking about Islam. I am sick of the flares of Islamophobia after terror attacks; rashes of hate that don’t match the reactions to other terror attacks.

The number of people who identify as Muslim and are terrorists is so small it’s nearly insignificant. The vast majority of Muslims around the world condemn these viscous individuals. Islam is a peaceful religion. People who claim otherwise should take a good look at the Qu'ran and then a good look at the Bible. Both texts say a lot of radical stuff that we no longer follow, but the moderate majority of Christians, Jewish people, and Muslims preach the same thing. Respect others. Charity. Love. Care for one another.

Educate yourself about Islam. Look up Muslim-run charities. Actually talk to Muslims. Read what the majority are saying on social media right now. Step up and visit a mosque. When people claim that Islam discriminates against women or has barbaric laws, they are confusing culture with religion. Some Christian cultures (including what I was raised in as an American Catholic), discriminate against women, LGBTQIA people, all kinds of people. So do many Muslim cultures. But that is from those in power, often governments, pushing the direction religion or culture will go in that region. Donald Trump wants to take civil rights from LGBTQIA people, women, the poor. But not every American agrees with him. Not every German, or Brit, or Lebanese person agrees with their government or popular culture. I can assure you, from my personal experience living in one of the largest communities of Muslims outside the Middle East (Detroit), what is preached in American mosques is not what is preached in the mosques trapped under an oppressive regime dictating the religion’s course.

There are a lot of white male Christian/atheist terrorists operating right now. The news doesn’t call them terrorists, because they are part of a system pushing you toward racism and conservative radicalism, right under your nose. I don’t think Brooke Baldwin even realises it. But shooting up a movie theater or a church is domestic terrorism, even if you’re a white boy. I can recall back to the nineties, before September 11, when white Christians and atheists were called terrorists when they committed terror attacks. We called the Oklahoma City bombing a terror attack. Just because we don’t do that today doesn’t mean it’s not terrorism.

Despite this white terror attacks, we don’t attack all white people, all Christians, all atheists for what Timothy McVeigh or the KKK has done. We don’t assume all Irish people over the age of 40 were in the IRA (look that one up with Oklahoma, young people). We are at great risk of more white, radical terror attacks, but no one is shouting slurs at every conservative white person and protesting to ban their churches in their neighbourhoods.

ISIS feeds off of anti-Muslim sentiment. When you attack attack all of Islam, when you blocks refugees, when you deny Muslims’ civil rights, you push people on the fringe of society toward ISIS. Muslims face serious discrimination in our world: viscous attacks, slurs, dangerous political policy. Most Muslims fight it within societal limits. The weak-minded loners soak in that abuse and became easy ISIS recruits. This is how it works with all kind of terrorist groups and cults, regardless the religion, race, or ethnicity. “They want to stop you because you are better,” they say to KKK, cult, and ISIS recruits. “You are better. You can serve a greater purpose.” This is how people are taught to hate.

But you can be better than this. You can hate wholeheartedly those that commit these horrific acts. But you can know how to direct and focus your hate. You can know who is responsible and who is not. You can direct your energy toward protecting those who are unfairly persecuted. You can learn. We have the world’s greatest research medium literally at our fingertips. Use it. Protest. Donate your time, money, or compassion. But don’t hate those not responsible.

Through time and space (part 5)

part one, part two, part three, part four


You really hate wondering off when traveling with the Doctor but sometimes you need to wonder off to keep Rose out of trouble. Now it’s not everyday you get saved by a person in World War Two that knows what the hell a cell phone is.

“Hello.” Rose says to the man that just saved the two of you.

“Hello.” He replies as you sit down for a moment massaging your temples. Unsurprisingly Rose faints, the man who saved the two of you picks her up and sets her on his bunk. “Tractor beams will do that to you.” He says as he sits down next to you. “Captain Jack Harkness.”

“Y/N Winchester. Nice to meet you Jack.” You reply, as you turn your phone back on. “How do you know what this is? I mean they won’t be invented anytime soon.” Jack just smiles and shows you some ‘identification’ only it doesn’t say what Jack tells you it says. “Is this psychic paper?”

“How do you know that?” Jack asks shocked, that’s when Rose comes around.

“You okay Rose?” You ask standing up slowly, Rose nods in response. Jack introduces himself to your friend, using the same flirtatious tone he used with you. “I have never met anyone as flirty as my older brother before now.” You comment. Jack doesn’t seem to even acknowledge what you just said.

“You’re time agents aren’t you?” Jack replies putting away the paper.

“We’re not agents just time travelers.” You answer, right when Rose accidentally elbows you in the stitches causing you to yelp.

“What was that?” Rose asks looking a little alarmed.

“You just nailed me with your elbow.” You answer holding up your shirt a bit showing off the stitches and the red mark that is now on your side. “Right in the stitches!”
Jack does something weird and these firefly things circle around you and Rose basically healing your injuries. “What are those?”

“Nano genes.”

Keep reading

Sorry, but Rachel Rostad is wrong about Cho Chang.

LOL, I love how I got unfollowed for calling out Tumblr’s precious Rachel Rostad and her rant on Cho Chang as being inaccurate and racist in its erasure of non-American Chinese (American-centrism FTW!)

Even though I’m hardly the first person of Chinese origin - or even the first person who’s actually linguistically familiar with Chinese - to say her video is inaccurate and racist (or even that Cho Chang can actually be a Chinese name)

But, naming aside, there is so much wrong with her poem it’s really hard to know where to begin.

I mean, I’m glad that she was looking forward to seeing an Asian (I really struggle to remember that “Asian” means racially very different things in a US and UK context) character in Harry Potter, but… “I no speak Engrish?” “Asian fetishisation?” Turning Asian women into a “tragic fetish” in which they kill themselves? What, because Cho cried a lot over a boyfriend who died in horrible circumstances?

(Let’s just remind ourselves that Cho didn’t kill herself, so the “tragic fetish” point Rostad makes is moot. And she speaks perfect English, too, so the “I no speak Engrish” point Rostad makes is, frankly, moot. Not to mention a racist Japanese stereotype rather than a Chinese one - but accuracy isn’t Rostad’s strong point, as I already mentioned.)

Granted, Rowling could have done a lot better in her treatment of Cho - and it’s certainly unfortunate that she chose a non-white girl to “contrast Ginny’s character and make her look stronger” - but I don’t think it was racism, I think Rowling was just unnecessarily unsympathetic to Cho’s crying over what was actually quite a tragic event - a sort of very British attitude of “oh get over it and pull yourself together” that many Brits take towards prolonged crying, and I think Cho would have got the same treatment if she was white.

Why? Because as far as I can tell (from both my own experience as a part-Chinese and from every other British-born Chinese I know or have met/read about) we’re NOT subjected to the “submissive giggling Asian geisha” racist stereotype that I hear US Asians are. Does it exist in the UK? Probably. I’m just more familiar with the “you all speak in a shouty language” and “you all run a Chinese takeaway” stereotypes. But hey.

Also, Cho wasn’t the weak submissive type Rostad has made her out to be. SHE FIGHTS IN DUMBLEDORE’S ARMY, FOR FUCK’S SAKE. We know from what Neville says in Book 7 and the little news Harry gets about Ginny that members who stand up to Snape’s regime risk torture and are often subjected to torture. We don’t hear what Cho’s up to, because the books are from Harry’s POV and Harry’s not in touch with her, but I don’t doubt that she runs the same risks and experiences. That takes guts. That takes bravery. That takes someone who’s not a “tragic fetish stereotype”. Has Rachel Rostad even read the fucking books?

And way before that, she stops crying so much and dates someone new. She and Harry, as far as I can tell, have no hard feelings upon breaking up. But no, Harry dating her is evidence of his “Asian fetishisation” (even though there’s nothing in the books to suggest that, and Rowling doesn’t even fetishise Cho in her writing of her) and “yellow fever”, terms I have literally never heard of before joining Tumblr. As I said, race issues in Britain ARE NOT the same as in the US - our racial makeup isn’t even similar, for a start. And mixed-race relationships are so commonplace in the UK, both in the media and our most populous city, that no-one really remarks on it. I imagine Harry Potter’s Britain reflects that.

Say “yellow fever” to any Brit, and they’ll probably think you’re talking about the tropical disease you get from mosquitoes. The only time I personally have encountered “Asian fetishisation” was when I was living in China, and a white American man tried to chat me up thinking I was a local (promptly losing interest when he realised I wasn’t, and that I wasn’t impressed). I don’t know of any Chinese person who’s encountered it in the UK - maybe it does exist, I don’t want to say a definitive “no” without proof; but if it does then I’m sure it takes a different form to the version I’ve been reading about from Asian-Americans in the feminist sphere. Because, you know, different racial issues/stereotypes, different national characters.

Personally, I don’t think anyone has the right to judge a mixed-race relationship without actually knowing anything about their relationship, and I find the automatic assumption by some sections on Tumblr (and in this case, Rachel Rostad) that a white man dating an Asian woman automatically has to be fetishising her, or seeing/treating her as some sort of giggling submissive slave, really offensive. (Out of all the East Asian / White British mixed relationships I know, and I know quite a few, NONE OF THEM are like that.) We Western Asian women have far more agency and intelligence than that, for fuck’s sake - don’t patronise us.

I think Rostad’s poem of seeing negative racial stereotypes against Chinese girls that aren’t really there (how the hell is Cho Chang being in “the clever house” of Ravenclaw a bad thing? Even after she proves to be competent (she learns how to do the patronus before Hermione does) and sporty (she’s clearly good at Quidditch - and sports are NOT something your stereotypical Asian family values; “Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother” was right in that regard) and brave (she helps fight the Death Eaters in Dumbledore’s Army)?) were more about her, and less about Cho - and less about actually doing her research on Chinese names, culture, or even the possible dynamics of Chinese/White inter-racial relationships in Britain. I find that appalling, because we are literally being misrepresented by someone who doesn’t fucking know what she’s talking about.

And that’s even leaving aside that she’s a Korean-American who knows nothing about being Chinese, let alone being Chinese in Britain. But Tumblr takes her word for it, because, hey, she looks Asian, she must know what she’s talking about!

Sorry to rant, but this has actually been upsetting me for days.

keeptheotherone  asked:

14 and 15 for the fic meme for A Question of Honor, please!

From this list:

14.  Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?

That historical AUs can be fun to read, and that it is possible to take your established characters and plonk them down in an alternate timeline and still have them remain true to themselves (at least, I hope that comes across!).

15.  What did you learn from writing this fic?

That there will always be one person happy to lecture you (politely, at least in this case) on the historical inaccuracies in your story, so always take the time to google when the Brits were in MA and when they weren’t. Unfacetiously, it’s always a good idea to check things online when doing a historical fic, and it’s sooo much easier now than it was back in Ye Olden Tymes™ of handwritten first drafts, typed final drafts, mailing the story to be included in a zine, etc. 

brit-picking (and i guess the opposite way round for american-set things, and any other english dialect things) is so weird, because if you’re not british, then it probably won’t bother you much at all, at most you might pick up on obvious things like ‘pants’ being used instead of ‘trousers’, but as a British person, you pick up on so many little Americanisms when the fic is supposed to be set in Britain/starring British characters that really takes you out of the story

You’re Not Fine

You’re not fine~Syndisparklez College AU~Happy birthday communitymc you massive pile of nerd trash.

Plot: Jordan gets sick. He lies to his roommate about exactly how sick he is. Things happen.

Triggers: Tiny blood mention, and if you’re not a fan of colds you might not wanna read this.

~~~

“Hey dude, how’d your day go?” Tom asked, dropping his backpack onto the ground heavily and flopping down on the bed.

“Shitty as hell.” Jordan coughed, tossing a tissue into the trashcan by his bed. “I bailed out of my last lecture because my brain decided to pour itself out of my nose.”

Tom made a face. “Nice mental image there. Thanks dude.”

“No *cough* problem.” Jordan replied. “Glad I could help.”

“Forreal though, dude, are you okay?” Tom asked, his facial expression morphing into a serious one. “You sound absolutely awful.”

“It’s just a cold.” Jordan waved him off. “I’ll be fine.”

Tom eyed his dark-haired roommate doubtfully. “Dude, it doesn’t sound like just a cold. Do you need anything? Meds? Tea?”

“No offense dude, but why do you care?” Jordan asked, and Tom’s face flushed. “If I were you, I’d get the hell out of here before I got you sick.”

“Aww c’mon, I can’t leave my best… friend alone in the room, helpless.” Tom replied, even though his head was screaming at him liar! liar! massive fucking liar!

“I’m not helpless.” Jordan tried to protest, but he launched into a coughing fit. Well, Tom certainly wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to take care of Jordan, that’s for sure. Most times Tom had to be careful about hiding his sexuality around his peers, especially since their college was affiliated with the church. If he came out, it could jeopardize just about everything- the most importantly of which was his relationship with his roommate.

“C’mon, I’ll make you some tea. My mum’s favorite.”

“Fuck you, you idiotic Brit.” Jordan teased. “You and your damn tea.”

“You won’t be saying that when you feel ten times better afterwards.”

~~~

For the rest of the day, Tom messed around their room tending to Jordan in various ways. The American dutifully drank the tea and despite the faces he pulled, he thanked Tom. Tom was more than happy to take care of his roommate now that he had an excuse to spend time with him.

Tom never left the room for long that weekend, taking a few trips to the grocery store for some supplies or other various things he or Jordan needed. Tom watched his roommate with a close eye, trusting that if something started going pear-shaped, Jordan would let him know.

“Thanks dude.” Jordan said as Tom handed him yet another cup of tea. “I can’t get enough of this stuff apparently.”

“You’re pretty much an honorary Brit at this point.” Tom said. “You’ve drunk more tea than anything else for the past few days. Are you sure you’re ok going back to classes tomorrow?”

“I’ll be fine dude. Don’t worry.” Jordan assured him, sliding his headphones on over his ears. Tom had learned a while ago that that was a cue for him to stop bothering Jordan and to stop worrying. He’d learned not to take it personally, people needed their personal space sometimes.

Still, as he tried to fall asleep listening to Jordan’s muffled coughs that night, he couldn’t help but worry. He hadn’t been getting better despite having been sick for the better part of a week. Tom had proposed the idea of going to the doctor on Friday, but Jordan had dismissed it almost immediately.

If Tom had a dollar for every time Jordan had told him “I’m fine,” he’d have more than enough to pay off his student loans.

~~~

Sure enough, the next morning, Jordan didn’t seem any better. “Dude, I’ll cover for you. You can copy my notes. Just get some rest.” Tom tried to tell him. Jordan gave him a glare.

“Tom.” He said tiredly, and Tom stared back at him unapologetically. “I’ll be fine. Thanks for everything you’ve done, dude. I mean it.”

“Erm… you’re welcome?” Tom turned away slightly as a blush flooded his face. “It’s really the least I could do-”

“Normal roommates don’t do this much for each other. Thanks for being there for me dude. You’re a good guy.”

Tom muttered something about getting his stuff together and quickly ducked out of sight. His face was probably a violent shade of pink right now. Man, I am in way too deep. He mused. There’s no way in hell this could ever work out for me.

“If you need to bail, let me know.” Tom said cautiously as Jordan headed out the door. He could hear him coughing all the way down the hallways. That man will be the death of me.

The lecture was a long and boring one, and throughout the duration of the professor’s dronings Tom could hear Jordan trying to muffle his coughs in the back. Suddenly, Tom saw Jordan jolt to his feet and sprint out of the lecture hall. After a moment’s hesitation, he followed.

Tom exited the hall and witnessed Jordan disappear into the men’s bathroom. He followed, just in time to see Jordan cough up a disturbingly large amount of blood into the sink. He was oblivious to the fact that Tom was watching him with a shocked expression on his face until Tom spoke.

“What the fuck?” Tom exclaimed. Jordan nearly jumped a foot into the air.

“Jesus Christ! Oh, Tom. Hi.” His already-pale face blanched further.

“How long has this been going on?” Tom asked loudly, brow furrowing as his temper spiked.

“Um… not long? Today? Maybe longer? I dunno…” Jordan wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I thought I was fine. It was just a cold.”

“Just a cold my ass.” Tom snapped. “We’re taking my car right now. We’re going to the hospital.”

Jordan began to protest weakly, but Tom pushed past him and grabbed both their book bags from the hall before practically dragging his roommate behind him and forcing him into the passenger seat of his car. “Why did you try to hide it from me, you absolute idiot?” Tom demanded, angrily revving the car and peeling out of the parking lot.

“I didn’t want to miss class and… well… the doctor costs a lot. My family isn’t the wealthiest one out there, I didn’t want to pressure them further.”

“You’re a dumbass.” Tom muttered, turning the corner abruptly. The hospital wasn’t far, luckily. “A complete and total spoon.”

Jordan snorted weakly. “You’re a spoon.”

“Get your ass inside the emergency room. Now.” I can’t believe it. The idiot was coughing up blood and he just expected to recover normally?

“My family-“

“I’ll cover it. Calm your tits.”

“I can’t-“

“Jordan, if you’re coughing up blood, something in your body is fucked up. Get your ass inside right now or I’ll carry you.” Jordan flushed, but he agreed to Tom’s angry demands. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.” Tom muttered, pressing his fingers into his temples in frustration. “You said you were fine, and like a dumbass I fucking bought it.”

“Tom-“ Jordan started to protest again, but Tom dragged him up to the front desk without even pausing for a moment.

“My friend needs to see a doctor. He’s been having severe cold symptoms for a few days and just recently started coughing up blood.” Tom quickly gave the clerk the information he had managed to get out of Jordan. Jordan had to wait a few minutes before any doctors could see him, but Tom headed outside to try and clear his head for a moment.

“He said he was fine. I believed him. I’m such an idiot.” Tom groaned, running a hand through his short blue hair. “I’m so fucking stupid.”

~~~

“Mr. Maron has rather severe pneumonia.” The Doctor informed Tom, his face a mask of professional calmness. Tom’s heart dropped into his toes. On the other side of the glass, Jordan was sleeping peacefully in the hospital bed. Various tubes and machines were hooked up to him, and the stubble that had begun to grow on his face contrasted sharply with the white sheets and pale skin.

“Will he be alright?” He asked quietly. He’d stopped being angry several hours before, when he was told Jordan had been admitted into the ICU.

“He’ll be kept here for a few days, but he is expected to make a full recovery.”

“No lasting effects?”

“Not usually. He should be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“I see dozens of patients with pneumonia every year, Mr. Cassell. He’ll be fine, I promise.”

Still Tom couldn’t help but worry as he watched his roommate (and crush) breathe in and out steadily. For the love of God, please don’t get worse than you are now.

Tom stayed overnight at the hospital one night before his other friends dragged him home. Still, even after that, he spent as much time in the hospital as he possibly could. On the second day, he was finally allowed to see Jordan again.

His roommate looked exhausted, lying in the hospital bed, but some color had returned to his cheeks at last.

“Hey dude.” Jordan murmured quietly.

“How are you feeling?” Tom asked, sitting down in the chair beside his bed.

“I’m not gonna lie to you, I feel like total shit.” Jordan replied, cracking a small smile.

“Glad we got beyond that.” Tom replied, rolling his eyes. “Dude, next time you get pneumonia, give me a little heads up ok?”

“The doctors said you’ve been hanging around here a lot.” Jordan said cautiously. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.” Tom said. “I needed to know you were okay.”

“Tom.” Jordan said. “Normal people don’t do that for their roommates.”

“I do.” Tom said. Jordan was giving him a look- one that he was not sure if he liked or not. “I care about my… friends.”

“Tom.” Jordan repeated. “Can I ask you a question?” His face was deadly serious, and Tom’s pulse increased dramatically.

“Sure dude. Shoot.” Tom replied nervously.

“Forgive me for asking this, but it’s been bothering me a bit. Are you gay?” Immediately, Tom’s heart stopped. He felt like ice water had been dumped over his head. Jordan’s eyes widened. "Dude, if you aren’t it’s cool I was just wondering-”

“No! I mean yes- wait, no… Fuck.” Tom jumped to his feet. “I dunno man I don’t-”

“Tom if you aren’t it’s fine it’s just you’ve been so good to me the last few days and I needed to know before my heart got broken any more.” Jordan rushed out, his hoarse voice quiet in the empty room.

Tom blinked. “What? I broke your heart?”

Jordan rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Tom, I’ve had a crush on you since the beginning of the year. I figured that after you took care of me these last few days I owed it to you to be honest for once.” He sighed. “You can leave if you want.”

“Are you contagious?” Tom asked, blinking like an idiot just standing there after he froze just as he was about to leave.

“Not anymore, why do you-” his sentence was abruptly cut off as Tom kissed him on the lips with sudden eagerness. “Oh.” He whispered after Tom pulled away.

“Jordan, if you get sick and tell me you’re ‘fine’ ever again I will hurt you.” Tom muttered. “Don’t you dare scare me like that ever again. Promise?”

Jordan smiled. “No more lies, I promise.”

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Tonight’s Grammmys were, in my humble opinion, very very boring. There were only a few performances that really stood out. One of my personal favourites was Hozier, who sang his hit Take Me To Church. It was a simple version of the song, nothing spectacular until Annie Lennox showed up onstage to finish it and to make her own rendition of I Put A Spell On You, with Hozier playing guitar. It was pure Brit perfection.

animusviincit  asked:

♡ ^^

For every ♥ I get in my inbox I will compliment a lovely person.

@agirlofwinterfell

First of all I am forever thankful that you, lovely Goethe, introduced me to the lovely Kiwi. My not-Australian child Brit has become a wonderful and true friend and I adore talking ooc with her. Everyday. She destroys me with feels and no matter how stupid my ideas may seem she’s always like “Yes, let’s go do this!” Sometimes I am glad that she’s half a world away, imagine what shenanigans we’d do if she were here? ;) 

Brit. You are an amazing writer. I adore how you take on so many characters and always stand up to the challenge of getting into someone else’s head. You have a passion for your characters and the worlds you create that is seldom equaled and I adore how you fleshed out your canon characters as well as your OCs. I know that the fandom you’re in for the most time can be quite rough and I bow to you, cause you have the courage to play OCs in that fandom and woar, you do it amazingly, while I have never been met with anything than kindness from you. 

Let’s not get me started on Stephanie, though, I cannot wait to see what you will do with her and add your own little spice to her story ;) 

Thank you for being my friend, honey, and I do hope you have a couch, because one day I’ll cross an ocean to meet you ;) (And I am dragging Theres with me tbh)