all shoes at the bottom of this

lemonbird  asked:

IMPORTANT QUESTION. Vampires aren't suppose to enter a premise without being invited right? What if a hermit vampire was living in his falling apart old castle and some fuck bought it as a "fixer upper", would the vampire just glitch out on to the lawn or would he be okay since he lived there before?

Okay so this would depend on where you are in the world, and whether or not they had squatters rights (can’t be evicted and can apply for legal ownership of place once they have been there for X amount of years) but I mean, the dude owns the place, even if it is a run down mess he was still there first and there’s probably some ancient land ownership law which can’t be overwritten by modern laws (you find all sorts of weird things are still technically legal cause no one bothered to update the books since 1645) so basically whoever just bought this castle to turn it into a modern fixer upper, congrats, you also just bought yourself a vampire and he’s not going anywhere.

(Also now I kind of want to write this where a family buys it to turn it into a hotel/wedding venue and the kids find the vampire in the attic and he ends up being the weird uncle who gets roped into hilarious wedding related shenanigans?? Like 


“Okay yes fine, you can host weddings here, but registrar only, no religious ones.” 
“But Theolodious, why?”
“Really Sharon, really, do I have to spell it out for you. Really.”

*

“We really should increase the lighting for photographs, what about skylights?”
“No.”
“But—”
“How about I just set all of you on fire while you’re trying to sleep.”

*

“Please, for the love of god, please don’t let people throw confetti or rice, I’m begging you.”

*

“Okay what’s our final head count for the night?”
“107.”
“Are you sure?”
“Did I fucking stutter Steve?”

*

“Uncle Theo, why does the groom have “help me” on the bottom of his shoes, why is everyone laughing?.”
“Because small one, humanity has failed collectively as a species and heteronormativity is a constructed lie designed to oppress over half the population for not conforming to arcane and chauvinistic ideals put in place by dead scholars who have long since turned to dust and have no place influencing modern society.”
“…”
“Permanence is an illusion.”

*

“Madame, flattering as your offer is for a quickie, you’re not my type.”
“What is your type then?” ;) ;) ;)
“O negative.”

*

“Whoo, what a day, I could eat a horse.”
“Same.”
“…”
“…well obviously I’m not going to.”

*

“Theo…are you…are you crying?”
“Yes.”
“You big softie, I never thought someone like you would cry at a wedding.”
“…I’ve lived a long life, Sharron. People come and go, the christening you bless will be the funeral you mourn in less than a century. But people keep saying “I love you”, that has to count for something.”

“Here’s the thing: I grew up in Kentucky. I sold insurance door-to-door. I sold ladies’ shoes. I worked at an all-night liquor store. I would buy suits that were too big and too long and cut the bottom of the pants off to make ties so I’d have a tie to go on job interviews. I grew up understanding what it was like to not have health insurance for eight years.”

 
“So this idea that I’m somehow the “Hollywood elite” and this guy who takes a shit in a gold toilet is somehow the man of the people is laughable.”
 
 
“People in Hollywood, for the most part, are people from the Midwest who moved to Hollywood to have a career. So this idea of ‘coastal elites’ living in a bubble is ridiculous. Who lives in a bigger bubble? He [Trump] lives in a gold tower and has twelve people in his company. He doesn’t run a corporation of hundreds of thousands of people he employs and takes care of. He ran a company of twelve people!”
 
 
“When you direct a film you have seven different unions all wanting different things, you have to find consensus with all of them, and you have to get them moving in the same direction. He’s never had to do any of that kind of stuff. I just look at it and I laugh when I see him say 'Hollywood elite.’ Hollywood elite? I don’t have a star on Hollywood Boulevard, Donald Trump has a star on Hollywood Boulevard! Fuck you!”

—  George Clooney
clothes of the majors I’ve met

English: stylish enough, glasses, won’t look me in the eye when I wear crocs, lots of things on their keychains

Computer science: the hoody-jeans squad, did CS so they would never have to wear a suit

philosophy: tank-tops, no shoes, pajama bottoms

art students: either rocking that depression sweater or making some sort of statement I missed

Psychology: leggings or sweatpants, pastels, long hair and messy top-knots

engineering: same as CS, bags under their eyes, lot’s of pins

International relations: mostly H&M and going hard for some unknown European flavor

archeology/anthro: beads & warm colors, always give me the vibe they would rather be covered in dirt right now

law school: forced into suits when required, otherwise have 2 day old makeup on or 7 o’clock beard shadow

teaching/nursing: look more comfortable than me, practical shoes

aerospace: how do all of you own the same einstein shirt?

history/humanities: left any sense of fashion in the 18th century, baseball caps, forget to wear socks with their shoes

business school:

100 Ways to Say ‘I Hate You’

I saw a post about 100 ways to say ‘I love you’, so I thought I’d make the anti-version if it doesn’t exist already. Roleplayers, send these to each other for angst reasons! Tw for emotional abuse, language, and some major rejection themes, though some  them are joking and could be used for friendly rivals or pals who play-insult one another. Change or add pronouns as necessary.

  1. “You’re a disappointment to me.”
  2. “I don’t care if you live or die.”
  3. “I used to care about you. Now? I regret every second I wasted.”
  4. “How do you think I feel? I’m pissed off!”
  5. “Go. Just go.”
  6. “If you come back, I won’t be here.”
  7. “I’ve never despised someone as much as I despise you.”
  8. “Ha! You think I care about you? What do you think I am, desperate?”
  9. “I regret ever saying ‘hello’.”
  10. “Leave and don’t come back, ever.”
  11. “Remember when we first met? I wish I didn’t.”
  12. “You’re the worst mistake I’ve ever made.”
  13. “Don’t touch me. Don’t even look at me.” “You took months/years of my life away. I’ll never get those back.”
  14. “I saw a trash bag on the side of the road today. Reminded me of you.”
  15. “I could have been doing so much better than wasting my time with you.”
  16. “You’re a sick bastard, you know that?”
  17. “I don’t care.”
  18. “Go ahead, leave. Don’t worry about coming back.”
  19. “You’re such a piece of shit.”
  20. “I didn’t think you could be any more of a shithead, but you just proved me wrong.”
  21. “You’re so stupid.”
  22. “Why do I waste my time with you?”
  23. “You’re not the person I thought you were.”
  24. “Hey! Just a daily reminder: you’re a piece of shit!”
  25. “I deserve so much better.”
  26. “We’re not friends. We were never friends!”
  27. “I pretended to like you because I felt bad for you! How did you fall for that?”
  28. “I never want to see you again.”
  29. “You’ve done nothing but make my life a living hell.”
  30. “Don’t apologize - you don’t deserve my forgiveness!”
  31. “No, I’m never giving you another chance!”
  32. “I wish you were never born.”
  33. “You’re the last person I wanted to see right now.”
  34. “I’d rather be working with anyone else in the whole world right now.”
  35. “When you get back, your shit’s gonna be on the front lawn. Take it and get out.”
  36. “Go ahead, choose them! You deserve each other.”
  37. “I don’t know what they see in you.”
  38. “You’re an embarrassment to me.”
  39. “You’re an embarrassment to all of us.”
  40. “I wish it was you. I wish it was you to die instead of them.”
  41. “God, why did I have to end up working with the biggest asshole in the world?”
  42. “How could you think I ever loved you? You seriously think I’d sink that low?”
  43. “Sorry, I just puked in my mouth a bit. I accidentally looked at your face.”
  44. “How can you even live with yourself?”
  45. “If I was your mirror, I’d break myself just so you would throw me in the trash and I wouldn’t have to look at you.”
  46. “Being with you was the worst time of my life.”
  47. “You’re a monster.”
  48. “Not a day goes by that I don’t wake up wishing I was dead because of you.”
  49. “I’m going to ruin your fucking life.”
  50. “You said you would change, but you never did! You never will!”
  51. “Some people are just born to fail. Sorry you’re one of the unlucky ones.”
  52. “You’re so worthless, you hardly even exist to me.”
  53. “I wish I could go back to the day I met you, and just walk away.”
  54. “If you give me that look one more time, I’m skipping jump-rope with your large intestines.”
  55. “Honestly, I’m embarrassed to even know you.”
  56. “Ugh, it smells like something died in here. Oh. It’s just you.”
  57. “You need to stop. You hurt everyone around you!”
  58. “Until you get your shit together, I don’t want to hear you complain.”
  59. “Look at you. You’re disgusting.”
  60. “Stop making me look bad.”
  61. “You have a face that makes me wish punching people wasn’t frowned upon in our society.”
  62. “Shut your mouth. I don’t want to hear your obnoxious voice.”
  63. “Go play in traffic.”
  64. “Fuck off.”
  65. “If I saw you in the ocean clinging to a log for safety, I’d save the log and let you drown. At least wood can become something useful, like toilet paper.”
  66. “How could I ever love something as terrible and hideous as you?”
  67. “I can’t even look at you right now.”
  68. “It was all a lie.”
  69. “I never loved you, and I never will.”
  70. “Don’t try to beg. It won’t work.”
  71. “You’re not worth the mud on the bottom of my shoes.”
  72. “Look at you. You’re pathetic. I’ve never seen a sadder sight.”
  73. “I’m going to hurt you slowly, and I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”
  74. “For what you did to them, I’ll do the same to you.”
  75. “An apology? You want to offer an apology? No. I don’t accept it.”
  76. “You’re everything I hate in a person.”
  77. “I wish you were dead.”
  78. “You’re nothing to me. Less than nothing!”
  79. “What a sad sack of shit you are.”
  80. “My life is in fucking shambles thanks to you!”
  81. “How could you? You bastard!”
  82. “I’d rather eat sewage than ever touch you again.”
  83. “Hey asshole, I’m here to ruin your day, just like I did yesterday and the day before that.”
  84. “You’d be more useful if you weren’t even alive.”
  85. “Hey, it’s my least favorite waste of space.”
  86. “Every day that I woke up next to you, I was tempted to smother you with a pillow while you slept.”
  87. “Love you? Don’t make me laugh.”
  88. “Just thinking about you makes me sick to my stomach.”
  89. “You deserve a slow and painful death for what you’ve done.”
  90. “I can’t stand people like you.”
  91. “Stop doing that thing. You know, that thing I hate. Breathing.”
  92. “If I could trade you for a nest of angry wasps, you would be long gone.”
  93. “I can’t wait to dance on your grave.”
  94. “If we were the last two people on earth, I’d be subtracting one.”
  95. “I never want to see the likes of your filth around here again.”
  96. “I’m disgusted by you.”
  97. “Fuck you!”
  98. “If I ever see you again, it will be far too soon.”
  99. “I have three words for you: Burn. In. Hell.”
  100. “I hate you.”
Snacks and Roses || Peter Parker Imagine

Paring: Peter Parker x reader

Word Count: 1607

Request: nah homie

A/N: i didn’t proof read it, I’m sorry. And sorry if you’re allergic to roses

Originally posted by fuckyeahtonystark

Y/N sat with Liz in the lunchroom , hearing their friends talking about Spider-Man once again. “He brings hope to the city. It’s like, we know that someone is looking out for us.” One of them said. Y/N thought about all the things the man has done for the city. I wonder if his life is good, if he’s happy in his real life, Y/N thought.

The topic was quickly changed when an announcement for Homecoming was made over the blaring intercom. “Students, don’t forget to buy your tickets for Homecoming next Friday.” The voice boomed, making all of the students start talking about the event.

Liz turned to Y/N, “So,” she said taking a bite from her food, “who are you going to the dance with?” All of their friends tuned in to what the two girls were saying.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. She wanted to go with Peter Parker, the smartest kid at Midtown High, if she went in the first place. Homecoming is going to be crowded and loud, with a bunch of annoying kids. Y/N didn’t want that. “I don’t think I’m going, actually. I’m probably gonna spend my night watching TV or something.” Y/N said, shaking her head like it was nothing.

“But Y/N,” one of her friends said enthusiastically, “You have to go! Peter is probably going, you should too!” She nodded her head behind Y/N. Y/N looked behind her to see Peter and Ned eating their lunch a few tables away. But he’s going to be dancing and hanging out with a girl that isn’t me, she thought.

Y/N smiled, “As much as I would love to go with him, it’s not gonna happen. He’s probably taking a super pretty girl with him and he’ll have a blast. Just,” she trailed off, starting to get quieter,“just not with me.” Y/N sighed, slumping her shoulders. Liz looked over at her giving her a sympathetic smile. “If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to. It would be nice if you went though.”

Y/N returned the smile, “Thanks for understanding Liz.” Liz nodded her head, “Anytime.” She gave her attention back to her friends to hear the rest of their thoughts.

Peter Parker sat a few tables away, having the same conversation that Y/N was having. “Are you going to ask her to Homecoming?” Ned asked Peter looked at his friend as if he was crazy. “W-What? No. Never. I can barely form a sentence around her, let alone ask her out.” Peter said as he gazed down at his lap. He looked back up to her, admiring her from behind. Y/N turned around and Peter quickly looked away and muttered “Oh God.”

Ned looked confused at the teenager. Peter’s face was beet red, “I think she saw me. Oh God,oh God, she saw me staring at her man.”

Ned looked over at the girl who was now facing her friends talking. “I don’t think she did. Just breathe, she probably didn’t see. I mean you turned your head so fast that you might have whiplash.” He chuckled. Peter sighed, “Maybe you’re right.”

“Right about what?” Michelle asked as she reached the table with the two boys.

“Well, I asked Peter if he was asking Y/N to the dance and he started staring at her. She turned around and might’ve caught him.” Ned explained to the Michelle as she sat down. Peter hit Ned’s shoulder with the back of his hand, “Dude. Seriously?”

“What?” Ned asked, completely clueless at Peter’s new beacon of embarrassment. Before their bickering cold continue, Michelle started talking. “Actually, while I was walking over here, I heard that she wasn’t going. And I might’ve heard,” she stated trying to be dramatic, “that she was super bummed out that you were probably going with a different girl that isn’t her.”

Peter sat shocked. “You’re lying.” He said. There is no way that the girl he has had a crush on for years, is into him. Him of all people.

“I wouldn’t lie about true love, Parker.” Michelle replied, kind of mockingly.

“How are you going to ask her?” Ned asked. Peter was messing with the cuffs of her sleeves. “I-I don’t think I will.”

Ned looked shocked. “You have to. You finally have a chance to be with her.” Peter looked around, “I’m too scared. Besides, she said she didn’t want to go and I respect that.”

“Your loss,” Michelle said opening one of her books.

It was the Friday night of Homecoming and Y/N sat on her couch surrounded by her fluffy blankets, with a show paused on the TV screen and a water bottle in hand. She was on her phone talking to Liz, giving some advice for her outfit. “Should I wear the silver earrings I got for my birthday?” Liz asked. “Yeah, they match your dress very well.” Y/N replied, taking a sip of her drink.

“Y/N are you sure you don’t want to go? I might have an extra dress.” Liz asked, she didn’t want her friend to be alone while everyone else was having a blast.

“Yeah I’m sure. I’m fine with my TV shows and blankets. Go have fun!” Y/N stated, assuring the girl that everything would be fine. “You sure?” Liz asked, wanting to make sure her friend was okay.

“100%.” Y/N replied with a smile on her fave that she knew Liz couldn’t see. “Alright, I have to go. My date is here. If you need anything call me.” Liz said, while Y/N heard shuffling in the background. “See you later Ms. Allen.” Y/N said chuckling to herself. “You too.”

Y/N sat on the cuddled into her blankets as she clicked play on her TV remote. As soon as the show started, there was knock on the front door. Y/N was confused, was it Liz? She got up to answer the door.

Y/N opened the door, do just her body was seen. She was greeted with the smiling yet nervous face of Peter Parker, holding a bouquet of red roses with a backpack on his back and a couple grocery bags filled with chips, candy and other snacks. Y/N stood in front of him, lips parted slightly.

“P-Peter. What are you doing here?” She asked with wide eyes. Peter glanced down at his old shoes. “I heard that you were, uh,” he looked back up at her, “I heard you were spending the night in on-on Homecoming so, I wanted to join you. If that’s okay.” He stammered biting his bottom lip.

Y/N smiled widely, opening the door all the way. “Come on in.” If it was anyone else at the door, she would’ve probably made up an excuse. But it wasn’t anyone else, it was her crush. Peter smiled back. He walked through the door, waiting for her to indicate where he could go.

Y/N shut the door and moved to face him. Peter looked at the flowers in his hand, “These are f-for you.” He handed you the flowers.

The girl smiled, “Thanks Pete.” She called me Pete, was all he could think about as Y/N went to put the flowers in a vase. She quickly came back after putting the vase in a good spot.

“You can sit down Peter.” Y/N said as he followed her to the couch.

“Seems like you were having a real party, huh?” Peter said sarcastically with a small smile on his lips, seeing the TV and her blankets. “What gave it away?” Y/N replied back with the same amount of sarcasm.

“I brought food.” Peter emptied out the two grocery bags with the snacks onto the couch between the two of them. Y/N smiled. Tonight was going to be fun.

Peter turned and looked at the clock to see it was one in the morning. All night was spent with him and Y/N getting to know each other,cracking jokes, and watching bad late night TV shows. It was like they had known each other for their entire lives. She fell asleep a while ago, her head resting on Peter’s chest, with a blanket wrapped securely around the pair. He sat there, playing with her hair, glad that he skipped Homecoming. Peter sighed contently, looking back up at the TV which now had the news on. A robbery at fifth and third. “Shit,” he muttered, moving Y/N off of his chest and onto the couch.

He dashed out her front door with only his backpack in hand, with his Spider-Man suit inside.

Y/N woke up 10 the next morning still on the couch, with all the snacks from last night littering the floor. It was fun hanging out with Peter. She was kind of happy that she didn’t spend Homecoming alone. She searched for her phone to check the time. Once she found the device she saw a text from Peter.

Hey, sorry I had to leave. My Aunt called me and said that I had to go back home. Maybe we can do this again sometime at my place?

Y/N smiled at the text. Maybe I can get the guy of my dreams, she thought as she typed a reply.

Yeah, that’d be awesome.

~Sigils for Wanderers~


Each of these is meant to be beneficial to wanderers and nomads in one way or another, and would work well on backpacks, phone-covers, shoes, or anything that regularly accompanies you on your adventures. 

In case you can’t read my crappy handwriting, the meanings are, from top to bottom:

1. I find beauty and magic everywhere I go

2. I am calm and competent in all situations

3. I return from my journeys safe and happy.

4. I embody the power and adaptability of the sea


(the photos are mine, just some snippets from my own aimless wanderings) 

His || Jungkook || 0.14

Member: Jungkook x Reader

Type: Angst, Fluff, Smut.

Teaser | 0.1 | 0.2 | 0.3 | 0.4 | 0.5 | 0.6 | 0.7 | 0.8 | 0.9 | 0.10 | 0.11 | 0.12 | 0.13 | 0.14

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instant gratification 03 (m)

Originally posted by bangtan7beyondthescene

➾10.8k 

➾ smut, angst, fluff

➾the final part of this series, please read the first three parts if you haven’t!

instant gratification 01 | 02 | 2.5


It’s like time has slowed to an ambling crawl, and all that ever exists has ceased to matter; except in this room with the three of you standing, facing each other like fighters in a ring. All you’re aware of is the way your breath has frozen over in your chest, and the way Jeongguk is clutching something so tightly in his hand, mirroring your own fisted palm.

“Jeongguk, no,” the sound of your voice pierces through the tense atmosphere, and is that really your voice? Why does it sound so unconvincing, so lacking in resolve, so broken? You clear your throat and attempt to try again, because your eyes are locked on Jeongguk’s own milky caramel ones, filled with a murky rage that threatens to break past the surface. “Jeongguk, this is not what it looks like, I swear-“

He only responds with an acerbic laugh that’s short and cutting, and it makes every breath you take feel razor sharp.

Keep reading

10

My novel, All the Crooked Saints, comes out tomorrow (10/10), but since I’ll be talking about that tomorrow, I thought today I’d instead talk about books that you could also snag while you were wandering or clicking through a bookstore — these are books I’ve either loved, have just picked up, or are about to pick up myself.

Titles and first lines:

LESS, by Andrew Sean Greer.

From where I sit, the story of Arthur Less is not so bad. Look at him: seated primly on the hotel lobby’s plush round sofa, blue suit and white shirt, legs knee-crossed so that one polished loafer hangs free of its heel. The pose of a young man. His slim shadow is, in fact, still that of his younger self, but at nearly fifty he is like those bronze statues in public parks that, despite one lucky knee rubbed raw by schoolchildren, discolor beautifully until they match the trees. So has Arthur Less, once pink and gold with youth, faded like the sofa he sits on, tapping one finger on his knee and staring at the grandfather clock.

DISAPPEARED, by Francisco X. Stork.

On the morning of November 14, the day she was kidnapped, Linda Fuentes opened the door to my house, where my family was having breakfast. As usual, I wasn’t ready. 

ABSOLUTELY ON MUSIC, by Haruki Murakami & Seiji Ozawa.

Until we started the interviews in this book, I had never had a serious conversation with Seiji Ozawa about music. True, I lived in Boston from 1993 to 1995, while he was still music director of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, and I would often go to concerts he conducted, but I was just another anonymous fan in the audience.

WILD BEAUTY, by Anna-Marie McLemore.

Later, they would blame what happened on the little wooden horses. Estrella had found them when she was five, the set of them dust-frosted and forgotten on a high shelf. They had been small enough to fit in her hands, carved wooden wings sprouting from their backs.

LOVE MINUS EIGHTY, by Will McIntosh.

The woman across the aisle from Rob yammered on as the micro-T rose above street level, threading through the Perrydot Building, lit offices buzzing past in a colorful blur. He should have taken his Scamp. Public transport was simpler, but he always seemed to share a compartment with someone who didn’t have the courtesy to subvocalize.

MOONGLOW, by Michael Chabon.

This is how I heard the story. When Alger Hiss got out of prison, he had a hard time finding a job. He was a graduate of Harvard Law School, had clerked Oliver Wendell Holmes and helped charter the United Nations, yet he was also a convicted perjurer and notorious as a tool of international communism. He had published a memoir, but it was dull stuff and no one wanted to read it.

I AM NOT YOUR PERFECT MEXICAN DAUGHTER, by Erika L. Sanchez.

What’s surprised me most about seeing my sister dead is the lingering smirk on her face. Her pale lips are turned up ever so slightly, and someone has filled in her patchy eyebrows with a black pencil. The top half of her face is angry — like she’s ready to stab someone — and the bottom half is almost smug. This is not the Olga I knew.

THE STONE SKY, by N. K. Jemisin.

Time grows short, my love. Let’s end with the beginning of the world, shall we? Yes. We shall. It’s strange, though. My memories are like insects fossilized in amber. They are rarely intact, these frozen, long-lost lives. Usually there’s just a leg, some wing-scales, a bit of lower thorax—a whole that can only be inferred from fragments, and everything blurred together through jagged, dirty cracks.

THUNDERHEAD, by Neal Shusterman.

Peach velvet with embroidered baby-blue trim. Honorable Scythe Brahms loved his robe. True, the velvet became uncomfortably hot in the summer months, but it was something he had grown accustomed to in his sixty-three years as a scythe. He had recently turned the corner again, resetting his physical age back to a spry twenty-five — and now, in his third youth, he found his appetite for gleaning was stronger than ever.

STRANGE WEATHER, by Joe Hill.

Shelly Beukes stood at the bottom of the driveway, squinting up at our pink-sandstone ranch as if she had never seen it before. She wore a trench coat fit for Humphrey Bogart and carried a big cloth handbag printed with pineapples and tropical flowers. She could’ve been on her way to the supermarket, if there were one in walking distance, which there wasn’t. I had to look twice before I registered what was wrong with the picture: She had forgotten to put on her shoes, and her feet were filthy, almost black with grime.

uhhh hate to be that guy but im kinda fucking tired of how yall treat jeremy heere. u just sweep him under the rug constantly. and like, dont get me wrong, yall do that to more than just him but i shouldnt have to struggle to find content about the main character in a show; especially when im literally in his fucking tag! its ridiculous yall!!!

like i get michael is like ur precious baby or whatever but honestly? jeremy kinda went thru worse. like im not down playing what michael went thru and struggles with but one sad song abt a panic attack doesnt match up to like months of physical and emotional abuse :/ and yall r like “protect michael uwu” and shit but i dont see yall trying to protect jeremy :/

also i really hate how in like. every fic there is some big confrontation abt the bathroom incident and how terrible and tramatic it was for michael and it always ends with jeremy taking all the blame. and like. jeremy NEVER gets to speak up about his trauma or deal with it and its never acknowledged in the slightest. which is absolutely unrealistic bc that boy went thru so much shit and its genuinely not fair and its upsetting to watch yall act like he’s just Fine and Dandy. his character and recovery deserve to be explored and talked about as much as michael’s, if not more.

then there is also the weird the obession with making jeremy a jerk??? and sure he kinda did dick things to michael but they are all like, understandable. i get why he did what he did, and im not mad? im sure i would do the same thing (yall also love to ignore with the bathroom incident he was scared, drunk, like literally just sexually harassed and had been on the receiving end of abuse for a few months). but yall out there seriously trying to make him seem like the worst fucking dude to ever exist be he mad michael cry or whateverthefuck. like uhhhh why do u need to make jeremy the bad guy when the squip exists??? the literal antagonist of the show??? an unredeemable computer??? the embodiment of evil imo???

and dont even get me started on how u reduce jeremy to a character whos only traits r michael mell and jacking off. it is annoying as hell. yall focus more on noncanon traits/hcs and fucking shipping him with his best friend than u do actually looking at his chatacter. its not fucking fair and im so fucking angry. sometimes yall hand me a jeremy that i literally cannot recognize bc yall have warped his character so fucking bad. like why did u do this? why did u have to do my baby boy so dirty u dipshits!!!

anyways its like. nearing 2am and im tired and angry so im gonna wrap this up. stop overlooking jeremy heere and stop treating him like he’s gum on the bottom of ur shoe. he’s the main character. its HIS fucking story. step the fuck up yall and let him have the damn spotlight.

anonymous asked:

What do you have against Bex? (Can u also provide evidence thanks 💜)

When I first got this ask, I was tempted to play it off as a joke and say “the fact she exists,” and leave it at that. But I feel like it’s important to stay informed. And if you genuinely don’t know, I’ll give you the complete rundown. It’s long, it’s messy, and it’s nasty, so bear with me.

First, and introduction. When I talk about Bex, I’m referring to the actress Bex Taylor-Klaus, who is the voice actor (or VA) of the character Pidge in the show Voltron Legendary Defender on Netflix.

It all began a while ago when Bex liked a comment of a picture. The picture involved a ship called Shei//th. I censored the name so it doesn’t show up in the tags of that on tumblr. But essentially it’s a ship between two characters, Takashi Shirogane, a 25 year old pilot who is the leader of the team, and Keith Kogane, one of the other “paladins” or fighters on the team. People like me find this ship to be distasteful, since Shiro is an adult, and the others are teens (it’s actually a bit messier than that, since an official Voltron source listed Keith as 18, but the producers of the show, Lauren Montgomery and Joaquim Dos Santos, said they were not consulted on the book so there’s some question as to whether it’s canon or not). Either way, the consensus by most reasonable people is that it’s probably not a healthy thing to depict in children’s media, when you consider the considerable age difference, the power imbalance (leader, senior officer with someone they are in charge of), and finally, the iconic line by the character of Keith himself when he defines their relationship as a familial one.

Nonetheless, the ship persists, as nasty things on tumblr are wont to do. There’s a lot of shipping discourse on tumblr between two distinct groups which can be labelled as “antis”–people who are not in favor of any Shiro/paladin ships, or what has become to be known as “shaladins”–people who ship any variation of Shiro with the paladins.

Here is where Bex got involved. On Instagram there was a picture of a black shoe and a red shoe together and the joke was about the shoes being a prophecy that Shei//th would be canon. A joke, mostly, considering all the evidence above. But here’s where Bex got herself in trouble. She liked a comment on the picture where someone said “Keith is a power bottom confirmed.”

Obviously, this caused a bit of an uproar within the fanbase, especially between the discourse between antis and shaladins. Shaladins were celebrating that an Official Voltron Source liked their ship, and antis were angry about that acknowledgement of the ship at all by official sources, and the sexualization of a kid’s show (more on this later.)

So of course this sparked the discourse on tumblr. One user, @lancehunks, who was receiving asks about Bex, tagged her in the replies.They were definitely unfavorable. 

and 

and a few more. 

Bex, being the big strong, adult, woman she is, decided that she could not take this obviously grievous insult to her name [sarcasm], and decided to reblog them all and respond to them. Keep in mind, that @lancehunks was just 13 years old. And Bex (22) decided that these were appropriate responses:

Yep, you read that right. Not only an adult but employed on a kid’s show! To a 13 year old! The target audience of the very show she’s a part of! (Oh, the hypocrisy). But wait, there’s more:

Just in case you’re confused, let me tell you the many, many reasons why this is unacceptable. 

  1.  Bex is an adult. You’d think she’d be a little more mature by now just in general. It’s the internet and there are trolls.
  2. The person she was addressing was 13!!!! Do I think it was mature to tag Bex in all those posts? No. But it’s… behavior that you can expect from 13 year old’s on the internet. If we swore at and tore down every single one of them every time they did something dumb, we would need a lot more therapists for teens in the world. Plus it’s really disingenuous to pretend that we wouldn’t have done something similar when we were younger if we were in that position.
  3. Bex is famous. While she’s certainly not on the caliber of massive A-List stars like Tom Holland or Zendaya, she has a fanbase that exceeds the normal person’s friend group. Just because she’s been on TV before, she has groupies that will support her no matter what, who will troll for her, who uncritically and unconditionally worship her. I’m not a Bex fan, nor do I really care to know her well enough to know just exactly how many fans she has, to be certain she does have them. When she publicly reblogged those words, that “motherfucker,” those fighting words, she weaponized her fanbase. What I mean when I say that is her behavior gave her groupies permission to behave the same way. By targeting someone who didn’t like her (a thirteen year old!!!!!), she opened the gates to her fans and groupies doing the same thing, to a kid.

This lead to some terrible things happening. The 13 year old was getting death threats, sexual violence threats, and nsfw content, all because Bex just couldn’t let it go. 

What does this mean? Finish it? Finish the kid? If you’re so sick of the fighting, then why did you even respond in the first place? Bex is the one who escalated the situation. Bex is the one who caused the fighting in the first place (by that I mean the fighting between the two that night, the fighting between antis and shaladins has been going on for as long as the show).

There we go. Now he have something resembling dignity. But unfortunately the damage was done, and user @lancehunks deleted their blog. As a direct response to Bex’s actions. Bex caused a 13 year old to leave tumblr. 

When hearing this news, Bex offered a half-assed apology:

This is the most insincere apology I have ever seen. “The internet has Bad things on it and it’s YOUR fault for seeing them” is not an apology. The best part is that she’s a big fat hypocrite. “Sometimes, when it’s harmless, the best thing I can do is shake my head and keep scrolling.” So why didn’t you Bex? Why didn’t you keep scrolling instead of targeting a 13 year old?

In light of recent political events, though there’s one thing that stands out to me: 

Sound like anybody you know? The esteemed President, perhaps?

*disclaimer* I am in no way claiming that Bex is a Trump supporter. I don’t know enough about her–and I don’t want to know enough about her–to know where she leans politically. I’m just drawing the attention to the similarities in moral equivalency going on, here.*

Sure you targeted a 13 year old and weaponized your fanbase, but someone tagging you in a snarky post is just as bad, right? (Wrong.)

You’d think that would be the end. You’d think that Bex would be capable of living and learning, or maybe even just taking her own advice, and keep scrolling. But here we go again.

The next bit of drama started when the possibly canon guide book was released, stating Keith’s age as 18. There was a big celebration on the shaladin side because technically, that would make it “legal” for Keith and Shiro to have sex. Besides the fact that legal  ≠ moral, again, Voltron is a kid’s show. But on tumblr this time, Bex posted this.

This time, the discourse surrounding Bex was a little different., This time, the discourse mostly focused on the fact that even if Shiro and Keith disregarded canon and morals and the fact that it’s a kid’s show ever did get in a relationship, the only thing that matters is how they like to have sex.

This is a problem for a lot of reasons. There’s a culture, pretty prominent on tumblr of women, mostly white, who are obsessed with gay sex. They write fanfiction and p*rn solely for their own personal gratification. This, of course, is a gross misinterpretation to wanting LGBT+ representation. If you aren’t a mlm (an acronym for men-loving-man, that includes many sexualities) then writing p*rn about is sexualizing them, using them as a tool to get yourself off, and not like complex human people. Mlm are more than how they like to have sex. In fact, that shouldn’t be a part of a discussion for anybody except between willing partners. This also feeds into the popular and damaging stereotype that gay men are predatory by nature.

So, as a whole, not good. 

And again, we have a whole situation escalated by Bex. The worst part is, to people who tried to explain this to her, the only response they were given was a gif:

So once again, a minor dared to express their distaste for Bex on tumblr. But this time, they didn’t tag her. This time, they censored her name. But Bex found it anyway. And she decided to do the exact same thing that led to a minor leaving the website, and to stop watching the show. 

Have no fear, this time though. This time, Bex is going after a 14 year old, at least she’s not going after kids anymore, right? [sarcasm]

Some final notes. 

Bex claims to be an LGBT+ rights activist. I’m also pretty sure she’s a lesbian herself (again, I already know too much about her, I’m not looking to get to know her better.) So, you’d think, as someone who wants equality for LGBT+ people and communities, she’d have the wherewithal to listen to specific subsets of that group when they say something about themselves, like, for example, young mlm who don’t appreciate being sexualized by a white woman. So I couldn’t help but laugh out loud when I saw this on her blog:

Now, I happen to agree with the above statement, but it’s so ironic, so hypocritical that Bex is talking about the sexualization of anything. Because kid’s shows aren’t safe from her sexualization and mlm certainly aren’t. How can one person be so incredibly oblivious? A mystery that I don’t have any interest in solving. 

I also want to address something a little more devious and a little more dark. I personally know of at least 12 different people who sent Bex asks, politely explaining some of the things I’ve talked about here, or relaying how her words hurt them personally. Bex never answered any of them. But she did answer this:

Just to be perfectly clear, I do not condone or encourage hatemail. Do not send people anything wishing them death or harm in any way. I have never sent nor do plan on sending hatemail, and you should be ashamed of yourself if you do.

However, this is incredibly nefarious. Bex doesn’t answer any of the many asks she got that were polite, but proved her wrong. She didn’t answer any of the young mlm who gave her their personal stories and who weren’t anonymous. Instead, she publishes this. And she did this on purpose, to make her look innocent, to make her look like she’s the one being attacked. I get hatemail every single day too. Things along similar lines to this. I block the user. Delete them, One, because I don’t want to expose my followers to that kind of negativity on a daily basis, two, a mature person knows that deleting them is the best kind of revenge because the user will be constantly looking for a response and they will know they had no effect on me and three, because if you do that, eventually they stop. This is intentional on Bex’s part to make the people who don’t like her look bad. I don’t like Bex at all, and I certainly do not support that message. Any reasonable person wouldn’t. Also the fact that it’s an anonymous message adds a certain air of doubt as to who sent it. 

The point is, Bex is purposely ignoring polite and well-meaning people and posted this to “prove” she’s the one on the “good” side because no good person would send that message.

This is also worth noting: 

This was posted after the lancehunks debate but before the power bottom comment she made. In this post, Bex admits that a relationship between Shiro and any of the paladins is predatory in nature. She said that. Her words. And then after that she said that Keith was a power bottom. 

The last thing I want to say, is that Voltron is a kid’s show. It’s rated US-TV-Y7. Which means for years 7 and older. Regardless of the ship, there should be no sexual content, be it fanart, of fanfiction of Voltron characters at all. We are all collectively responsible for keeping content age-appropriate for the target audience. So, stop it. All and any ships. 

For minors, this is my advice to you:
Bex is a predator, a hypocrite, and a liar. Do not engage with her. Block her. Do not tag her in any of your posts. She has a history of targeting minors. Protect yourself. Do not engage.

southern hospitality

bitty has outgrown this place, and the people in it.

tw: homophobic language/slurs

word count: 1800

for @stitchedopen, 3rd place winner in my fic giveaway! i hope you like it!


The clinking of Jack’s fork against his plate as he sets it down is very unnerving. It’s not the only sound in the room but it’s by far the loudest, to him at least. Even louder than Suzanne’s pleasant babbling (no wonder where Bitty gets it from) and the gentle lull of music being played on a radio somewhere in another room. Probably the kitchen, where Bitty’s finishing up supper.

There’s a shuffling around the corner and Coach becomes visible as he nears the bottom of the staircase. “Jack,” he mumbles gruffly in greeting, giving him a nod and sitting at the head of the table.

“Hello, Mr. Bittle,” Jack replies, smiling a little. “How’s the season going? Still the reigning champs of Morgan County?” If there’s one thing Jack knows he can get Coach to talk about, it’s football. It might be a much different sport than hockey, Jack surmises, but the passion they share for their sports is more than enough for them to hold a conversation.

“Oh, they lost their first game of the season last week. Nevin’s got an injury and we had to switch around the lineups– you remember, Nevin, receiver, curly hair, he’s in the team picture in the living room– anyway, I’m sure it hurt their chemistry.” Coach would talk strategy with Jack for hours, if it was up to him, but Eric is coming into the dining room now. He’s got on yellow oven mitts with tiny white flowers, and he’s holding a tray with a roast and some vegetables.

“The meat’s a little dry, Lord help me, I should stick to baking,” Eric laughs, setting the tray down on the table. “But all the vegetables should be good and I’ve got some pumpkin muffins with a fantastic cream cheese frosting waiting for us in the kitchen.” Everyone starts to serve themselves. The meat’s not dry at all, but Jack keeps that to himself. Sometimes Bitty needs little things to dwell on, to keep himself busy so he’s not worrying so much about the big stuff. Jack knows that.

“So,” Suzanne starts after a minute, and Jack can tell that this is going to be a long one. He glances up at her, a signal that he’s listening. “The Gardeners are having a potluck this Friday, and they sent us an invitation.”

Bitty nearly drops his fork. “The Gardeners?” he hisses. “As in, Melissa and Kyle?”

“Those Gardeners,” Suzanne replies smugly. Jack and Coach exchange a look, humor gleaming in both of their eyes. The drama is about to unfold, they can tell. “What right do they think they’ve got, inviting us to their potluck after what happened at ours?”

Bitty turns to Jack, waving his hands as he speaks. “Two summers ago, we held a potluck here for the neighborhood, and when the Gardeners showed up, Kyle was drunk as a skunk and knocked over our entire dessert table. The whole thing! It was all ruined! And it would have been okay, but they didn’t even bring anything to the potluck in the first place, and they never apologized, and oh, it was such a mess, everyone tried to act like it wasn’t a big deal but darlin’ you should’ve seen the look on Moomaw’s face, I swear she was on the verge of a heart attack.” He shifts abruptly back toward Suzanne. “Mama, we’ve got to go.”

“Oh, I know that, of course we do. Dicky, what you’ve gotta do is bake the best pie those folks have ever tasted, let them know exactly what they were destroying when they had the nerve-”

Jack hums quietly, making a mental note. Potluck on Friday. Prepare for a spectacle.

-

Bitty’s fingers press against Jack’s neck as he helps him straighten his collar. Jack doesn’t really need the help, he supposes, but the contact is welcome, brief but full of warmth, not the kind of affection Jack usually gets when they’re with Bitty’s parents. They’ve been trying really hard, Jack can tell, and Bitty has too. But he understands why Eric sometimes has trouble being soft with Jack around Suzanne and Coach.

“Don’t you just look dashing,” Bitty says with a smile, placing his hand flat on Jack’s chest.

“Only because you picked my outfit,” Jack laughs. Bitty laughs with him, nodding in agreement. He’s got little crinkles at the edges of his eyes when he laughs, and Jack rubs his thumb over them, absent minded.

“You ready, Dicky?” Suzanne calls from the kitchen. The noises of the coffee pot stop and Jack can hear her pouring herself a cup.

“All ready!” Bits yells back. He reaches up his hand and squeezes Jack’s wrist before whirling around into the kitchen. Jack watches Bitty’s hips swing as he leaves, his jeans a little tighter than usual since he’s outgrown some of the clothes that he left here during the school year, and wonders if wore them on purpose.

-

The potluck is bustling. There are people of all ages, from the tiny toddlers playing in the Slip ‘N Slide far left in the back yard to the old ladies knitting underneath the sugar maple next to the house in a comically stereotypical manner. Jack opens Eric’s door for him not out of chivalry but out of necessity– when he emerges from the car, his arms are full of tupperware containers.

“Let me take some, bud” Jack offers, but Bitty shakes his head.

“I’ve got to bring them over myself.”

-

“This one’s cherry with a lattice crust,” Eric is explaining as he removes the lid from the nearest tupperware container. The egregious Melissa Gardener turns out to be a petite brunette with a smattering of freckles across her upturned nose. “And this one’s pumpkin, I know it’s not really the season but I had some materials left over from the muffins I made the other night and I’m sure it’ll be just delightful, I made the whipped cream myself– now, they’re all desserts. I was sure you’d need some.”

Jack stifles a laugh. The bite in Bitty’s voice is unmistakable. “Where should I set them?” Eric asks, still sweet as sugar but with a lilt that suggests this isn’t an innocent question. “This table seems a little… unsteady. I wouldn’t want them to fall, heaven forbid.”

“This table’s fine,” Melissa ensures him, smiling. “Thank you so much for the contributions.”

“It’s nothing at all.”

They burst out laughing as soon as she leaves, Bitty collapsing into Jack’s chest. Jack’s arms come around him automatically and squeeze. “Bits, that was cold.”

“Really? Here I was, thinking I was being so courteous.”

They stay in the embrace for a few more seconds before Bitty shifts away from Jack. It’s subtle, but Jack understands. He squeezes Bitty’s shoulder and then takes a step away. Bitty’s out to everyone who matters, but some people don’t know. And some still have their prejudices.

“Bits, where’s the bathroom?” Jack asks. The noise is already getting to him. He knows he’s got a while of this to go, and he’s sure he’ll be fine, but he just needs a minute to adjust. Eric points him in the right direction, then goes back to arranging the pies on the table.

“Eric!” Bitty whips around. It’s a tall guy with acne scars in a red polo shirt. Bitty looks up, his face ghostly stricken for a second, then paints a big smile on.

“Hey, Todd,” he replies as the guy moves closer. “How have you been.”

“I’ve been fine, thanks,” Todd says. Eric tugs on the bottom of his shirt and glances over at Jack, entering the house. “Who’s the guy?” Todd asks, nodding toward him.

“Jack,” Eric says. “My… my boyfriend.”

Todd smiles. He turns his gaze to Bitty. “I’ve gotta say, Eric, I’m impressed! I expected you to come home with some twinky faggot in a pink H&M scarf.”

Eric inhales sharply. “Go away,” he says quietly, looking at his shoes. “My love life is none of your business.”

“We all knew you were a homo, Bittle, I guess it’s just a little surprising that you’re still showing your face around here. Are you queers ever gonna stop shoving your agenda in our faces? Huh? Go back to Samwell, eh?” He’s inching closer now, and Eric’s cheeks are flaming red.

“Go fuck yourself,” Eric mutters, turning his back. He unstacks a tin of macadamia nut cookies from his lemon meringue, and opens it. His hands are shaking as he spreads them out artfully.

Todd ignores his response, instead reaching over Bitty and sweeping up several cookies. “Don’t mind if I do,” he says as he stuffs one in his mouth. “Mmm,” he replies, smirking. “They’re a little bit… fruity, don’t you think?”

“That’s not even funny,” Eric rolls his eyes. “Get the hell away from me.”

“And if I don’t?”

There’s a hand on the back of Bitty’s neck and he’s flinching, he’s freezing, he can’t move he can’t breathe–

“If you don’t,” Jack whispers, his voice robotic and cold. “I’ll beat the shit out of you, and you can crawl home to your mother and tell her you got your ass handed to you by a faggot. Does that sound like a good enough reason to stop?”

Todd takes a step back. “Don’t you fucking touch me,” he hisses at Jack. “You’re not from around here, are you? You don’t know who my dad is, do you?”

“Let me guess. Mayor of some town I’ve never heard of? Principal of the local high school? Do you know who my father is, noune?” Jack puffs up his shoulders. “Because I can guaran-fucking-tee that my dad is a hell of a lot worse to mess with than yours. So you might just wanna step off.”

“Whatever. I shouldn’t be talking to y’all anyway. Just in case it’s contagious, you know?” Todd smirks.

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” Jack says, still matter of fact, balling his fists and lunging toward Todd. Todd flinches, but the blow doesn’t come. Bitty’s caught the back of Jack’s t-shirt in his hand.

“Jack, honey, it’s okay. I can handle it.”

Todd laughs.

“But this– this asshole–”

“Trust me, sweetpea, I’ve got this.” Eric smiles.

“Yeah, you’re sure gonna take care of me, Bittle, what can you weigh, a hundred and ten? I bet you couldn’t even–”

Splat.

“Pity,” Eric says sweetly as the pie tin slides down Todd’s face, then down his shirt, coating him in cherry filling. “That lattice crust was gorgeous.”

“You– you–” Todd splutters, wiping cherry crud out of his eyes, but Bitty and Jack are already walking away.

“Enjoy the snacks, Melissa,” Eric calls over his shoulder as they make their way to the car. “We’re gonna head out.”

His || Jungkook || 0.16

Member: Jungkook x Reader

Type: Angst, Fluff, Smut.

Teaser | 0.1 | 0.2 | 0.3 | 0.4 | 0.5 | 0.6 | 0.7 | 0.8 | 0.9 | 0.10 | 0.11 | 0.12 | 0.13| 0.14 | 0.15 | 0.16 |

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Pay For A Punch

A Bucky Barnes One-Shot

Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 2,349

Warnings: 18+, beginning of smut, mentions of sex, sexual tension, language, kissing, fluff.

A/N: This is my submission for @amarvelouswritings Bee’s 2.1k Challenge! This was fun and I really want to be the reader in this so bad! 

Prompt: “If I kissed you right now, what would you do?” 


You were aware of all the chatter happening around you, but all you could hear was the buzzing in your ears.

Anger.

It boiled the blood in your veins.

Who the hell did he think he was? You knew what you were doing. You were good at what you did. Tony wouldn’t have put you on the team unless he thought you were fit.

Countless hours in the gym training with Steve. Honing your combat skills every day with Natasha. Therapy sessions with Bruce. Perfect physical assessment from Dr. Cho.

You name it, you’ve done it.

But he is the only one who sees you as incapable. He undermined every move you made. He would tsk and tut at you when he disagreed. He had even patted your head like a petulant child once.

You would have stabbed him if Wanda hadn’t used her powers and tore the knife out of your hand.

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2

Maxis Match Lookbook

I had the opportunity to test the lovely @helgatisha’s upcoming model poses! I had hard time choosing, all of them are soo amazing!! They are coming soon guys! :) 
EDIT: download them here

Meanwhile, I’m showcasing some of my favourite MM items atm with the help of my gorgeous models: Hailee, Mayra, Brittany and Chelsie! (from top to bottom, left to right) :)

Hailee
Sweater @serenity-cc / Skirt @rusty-sims / Tights by FENC  / Shoes @dreamteamsims / Headband @wildlyminiaturesandwich / Hair @kotcatmeow

Mayra
Dress @rusty-sims / Shoes @dreamteamsims / Hair @rusty-sims

Brittany
Dress @wildlyminiaturesandwich / Jacket @blogsimplesimmer / Tights @daerilia / Sandals @madlensims / Hair and Flower @grimcookies

Chelsie
Top @pixelunivairse / Jeans @nolan-sims / Shoes @theslyd / Necklace @tukete / Hair @aquarius4sun

crumbling- h.s imagine

You let out a sigh as you glanced at the clock hung up on the wall. Joanne, your marriage counselor stared at you with sympathy in her eyes. She reached out from across the table in between the two of you and placed her hand on top of yours, “I’m sorry Y/N. I’m afraid our time is up.”

You looked down at your hands and shook your head. You let out a mumbled, “Thank you for your time” before you grabbed your purse and left her office. Joanne stared after you and let out a sigh herself. “Katy, grab my 1:00 appointment, please.” She called out to her assistant.

As you waited for your destination on the elevator, you pulled out your phone hoping to see something from Harry. When you were greeted with nothing, you pinched the bridge of your nose and closed your eyes tightly. As you sat in your car, you pulled out your phone once more and dialed a number you’ve been familiar with for the past couple of weeks.  “Hey Jake. Yeah, I’m fine. I think I’ll grab the papers today.”

Harry let out a curse as he saw the bedroom light was still on when he pulled up in the driveway. He was hoping you were asleep so he didn’t have to listen to you complaining about how he should’ve been there today. Harry tried to be there today, really he did. But he had to approve his album cover, he needed to put some last minute touches on some songs; he was a busy man today. Harry ran his hands through his hair as he debated whether or not he should pick up some flowers, just to soften the blow. He shook his head. He had to face the consequences that were yet to come.  

One word that you would use to describe your marriage with Harry was crumbling. It was amazing the first few years. Harry made you feel loved and made sure you were cherished. You made sure you showed Harry nothing but continuos support and just as much love. When the band split up, it was hard for Harry. One Direction was like his baby, it made him the man he is today. You remember how upset Harry was once the news broke to the fans. You remember Harry telling you that this changed everything. You remained positive for him. You told him things were going to be okay and that this was just a bump in the road. You made sure you told him that his fans were forever and they’ll love him no matter what he decides.

When Harry decided to audition for a movie role, you were nothing but excited for him. You made sure he was well rested before his audition and you made sure you helped him read his lines. When he got the role, you were dying of happiness. When he had to leave to film, you, being the supportive wife you were,  travelled alongside him. You dropped everything just to see your husband pursuing a new passion of his.

When Harry decided to go to Jamaica to focus solely on his debut album, you agreed. You told him that if he felt this was the right decision then this was the right decision.

You tried being the supportive wife. You tried lifting Harry’s spirits when your own was down. You tried reaming positive and just being what Harry needed during these crucial times in his life.

But you couldn’t say the same was being done for you. There were times when Harry wasn’t there for you for special events in your life like going back home to see your family or being your date for your sister’s wedding. There were times where you had doubts in your marriage and you tried. You tried so badly to remain optimistic. You tried telling yourself that he was busy with his album, you tried telling yourself that he was filming a movie and that he couldn’t drop everything. You tried putting your emotions aside in hopes of Harry never finding out how sad you were.

But you can only bottle up something so much that it just explodes.

Harry wiped his face before he leaned back on the couch. He wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs before he asked, “Are you asking for a divorce?”

You quickly looked up. “No! Never! I would never ask for a divorce.” You made your way over to Harry and sat down on his lap. You stared into his beautiful eyes that held nothing but sadness and tears. You gently whispered, “Something just needs to change.”

After that, the two of you decided it was best to seek a marriage counselor. It was definitely a hard choice to make but the two of you decided that it was best to talk out whatever problems there were then really letting things escalate. And going to couples therapy was great at first. The two of you felt like with time, things might actually turn around.

Until Harry started missing sessions. It was always one excuse after another. You tried to be forgiving and you tried to make it seem ok that he was missing the meetings but your heart broke more and more each time he skipped. It sucked being in that office yourself. You hated the feeling of your therapist staring at you with sympathy. You hated being asked why did you think Harry decided to bail. You hated every single minute of being there and feeling like you were alone. You hated that you were the one that put all the effort into this marriage. You hated that you had to remain brave. You hated crying alone. You hated the thought of Harry no longer loving you. You hated every single minute of it.

You were staring at your reflection in your sanity mirror in your shared bedroom with Harry. You noticed all the bags under your eyes and how puffy they were with how much you cried tonight. You wondered, “How did I get here? How could something that once was so beautiful crumble into something so tragic?” As you were pondering your thoughts, in the reflection you saw the bedroom door open. Harry had an ashamed look on his face.

He closed the door behind him before he turned to you. “Y/N, love, I’m so sorry.” You continued to stare at Harry. You bit on your bottom lip as you drowned at the pathetic excuse he was coming up with. Your eyes glanced at your wedding ring that was sitting in a little jewelry dish next to you. You let out a little scoff at how ironic it seemed to you. Isn’t that ring supposed to represent happiness? Yet all you felt was despair.

Hesitatingly. Harry walked closer to you. He tried to decipher what was going in that beautiful mind of yours. “Love?”

Slowly, you turned around in your seat. Your eyes were staring at Harry’s shoes, afraid that if you looked up into his eyes that the words would never fall out of your mouth. “I want a divorce.” You whispered.

You said it so quietly and so gently that you were sure Harry didn’t hear you. But the gasp that fell out of his lips proved otherwise. Harry bent down so that he was looking up at you. He placed his hands on top of yours. “Love, no.”

You shook your head as you closed your eyes, trying so badly to not let out a sob. Harry’s eyes started to fill with tears of his own. “Y/N! Please! I’ll change! I’ll go to the meetings! We can go every fucking day! Please!”

You let out a shaky sigh as tears began to cascade down your cheeks. Where was this when you needed to hear it the most? You finally looked into Harry’s eyes and completely lost it. You hated yourself for the hurt you saw in his eyes. “I’m not happy anymore, Harry.”

Hearing you say that felt like a direct bullet to Harry’s heart. He winced as if he was in actual pain. Hearing you say that meant he was a failure of a husband. He shook his head quickly, as if he was trying to get the thought out of his head. “You’re just upset with me and I get it. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t mean it.”

You tried to defend your decision before Harry got up. He ran his hands through his hair. “We just need to sleep it off. You’re hurt, I’m hurt. Everything’s going to be okay. I’ll sleep in the guest bedroom, alright? We just need to sleep it off” Harry tried convincing himself. He bent down once more and placed a soft kiss on your lips before he walked out of your room.

You stared at the door before you wrapped your arms around yourself and let out the sob that was trying to read its way out.

That night was the quietest the house has ever been. Both you and Harry were laying in separate beds, wondering how your marriage got to this, while tears fled your eyes. Harry wanted to do nothing but hold you and to convince you that this was just another rough patch and that you guys were going to get through this. You wanted Harry to come to his senses when you said that you weren’t happy. You wanted him to realize that you’ve been trying for a very long time and that you couldn’t take it anymore.

The next morning, Harry walked downstairs and into the kitchen. You were sitting at the dining room table, a cup of tea in your hands. He noticed instantly how red your eyes were the puffiness of your cheeks. You looked up at Harry before you walked over to your purse that was on the counter. Harry was watching your every move intently, afraid to make a sound.

You pulled out the stack of papers that were weighing down your purse before you looked up at Harry. You placed the papers down on the table before you walked past him and went back into your room. With shaky hands, Harry picked up the papers. He let out a sob and fell to the floor.

You were filing for a divorce.


out of everything i’ve written recently, i actually really enjoyed writing this! it’s been in my drafts for the longest time and i’m glad im finally sharing it! let me know what you guys thought!

you can find all my writing here

sadinasaphrite  asked:

I understand you have a long list of these questions, but figured I'd get in line. I want to adopt a retired greyhound racer. What health problems do you see with them? I've also heard they are especially sensitive to anesthesia due to their low body fat. Do you have a protocol you find is particularly safe for them? The rescues have too many conflicting answers. One even claims they never should be put under anesthesia ever, even for dentals, because they "just die!" Which is ridiculous.

Anonymous said: Is it ok to request another breed? If so, greyhounds? Possibly rescue racing hounds if that specification has any problems that pet raised greyhounds dont

and

Anonymous said: Hello! I was wondering if you could (or have already done) a post about greyhounds? Specifically racing-quality ones? I read something earlier that claimed they were a lot healthier than most dogs and I’m wondering if that’s true. Thanks!

and

Anonymous said: Hey there! I noticed you said recently you’d like to see more ex-racing greyhounds as pets - I’m seriously considering adopting one in the future and I was wondering what health issues you see in them? I’ve heard that they can get painful corns on their feet and that you need to be careful about their temperature, but is there anything else you see that a future adopter should be watching for? Question tax: came for the the vet stories, stayed for the refreshingly sensible advice :)

Oh vetlings, I have a lot to say about Greyhounds.

I adore these dogs, and am glad to work with them, but don’t specifically condone organised greyhound racing. Most of these dogs like to run, I would have no problem with them running around a track casually for fun, but once prize-money is involved it becomes too tempting to push limits, to cheat, to cut corners, to overbreed, and this leads to poor welfare outcomes for too many dogs.

Please note the disclaimer that these posts are about the breed from a veterinary viewpoint as seen in clinical practice, i.e. the problems we are faced with. It’s not the be-all and end-all of the breed and is not to make a judgement about whether the breed is right for you. If you are asking for an opinion about these animals in a veterinary setting, that is what you will get. It’s not going to be all sunshine and cupcakes, and is not intended as a personal insult against your favorite breed. This is general advice for what is common, often with a scientific consensus but sometimes based on personal experiences, and is not a guarantee of what your dog is going to encounter in their life.

Also please note that this will be a Long Post.

Originally posted by thegypsycob

General conditions of Greyhounds

Whatever their history all greyhounds have a few things in common. Most of them struggle to sit, they tend to either stand or lie down. Their pain tolerance is interesting, walking in with a broken bone but screaming at a tiny needle prick. They like to feel someone touching their head. There are also a few conditions common to them, regardless of their lifestyle or upbringing. They are one of the very few breeds that I think it’s not an exaggeration to say you benefit from seeing a vet with experience in this breed. We have a lot to get through, so I’ll try to keep the basics fairly short.

Bloat, (Gastric Dilatation Volvulus) is more common in the big males, but can occur in any greyhound due to their deep chest. Delicate, picky eaters seem less at risk.

Greyhounds are generally very athletic, but they can and do develop Dilated Cardiomyopathy. While they have generally reached a reasonable age before developing this condition,

Pannus can affect any greyhound, and this chronic eye condition is generally made worse by UV light exposure. Once diagnosed it’s not too hard to control with medication but it is a long term condition. This is the most likely reason you would see a greyhound wearing doggy sunglasses or ‘Doggles’.

Greyhounds can also get Progressive Retinal Atrophy, which may manifest as ‘night blindness’ first, though this seems to be less common lately.

Greyhounds, perhaps surprisingly for all the raw food they seem to get when racing, have generally poor Dental Health. Despite being big dogs that are generally pretty tolerant, most of them don’t like to chew. They’re delicate chewers and won’t necessarily gnaw a bone.

Speaking of bones, these dogs get Osteosarcoma (Bone cancer) fairly readily. This cancer has a biphasic age pattern. Basically it usually occurs in dogs around 2 years of age, and dogs around 8-10 years of age. It’s all kinds of bad, every time and there’s not much else to say about it, other than the life expectancy is short. I’ve talked about it previously.

Of purely cosmetic concern, greyhounds also commonly develop pattern baldness. Typically the affected areas are the thighs and ventral neck, and there are a few possible reasons for this. It might be genetic, it might be nutritional or stress related, or it might be due to blood vessel compression under due to large muscle groups underneath the skin. This generally bothers the owners more than the dog.

Greyhounds often have thin skin, and while this doesn’t necessarily bother the dogs most of the time it certainly bothers me as the surgeon! Some of these poor dogs will seem to tear themselves open with any little scrape, so be careful of the suture materials you choose. They are prone to pressure sores with poor bandage care too.

And associated with their thin skin, some of these dogs develop “Happy Tail,” which is basically a chronic injury on the tail tip which wont heal because the blessed dog insists on wagging it against solid objects all the time, despite the pain and injury. They can’t help it. They’re too happy, hence the name of the wound. This takes creative bandaging or the occasional partial amputation to fix.

Originally posted by emiliotheexplorer

Conditions associated with Racing

Most greyhounds are reared for the race track and it’s not until later that they’re identified as being 'unsuitable’ for the track. Some greyhounds will be 'retired’ early, before they ever get to run, but many will be retired either with injuries or because they just don’t win. Greyhounds that have been retired due to injury are not necessarily lame, they may have healed well enough to do normal dog activities, just not enough to win races.

Track leg is probably the most common 'racetrack injury’ we see. It’s basically a swelling on the inside of the tibia below the knee, caused by the greyhound continually hitting its hind leg with a front leg as it runs around the track in the same direction all the time. They’re usually not painful, and generally go away when the greyhound is not restricted to always running in a very large circle.

Corns are hard thickenings in the bottom on a footpad, either secondary to trauma, foreign objects (grit) or papilomas. They start out small but grow with time, and are painful. It’s like having a stone in your shoe all the time and many greyhounds will become footsore because of it. Affected greyhounds are often reluctant to walk on harder surfaces, and anti-inflammatories doesn’t seem to make much difference. We treat them by paring them out and waiting patiently.

Grit in foot pads can cause corns, and can cause similar lameness to corns, but will show up on Xrays if you use high enough detail. These are fragments of sand or other foreign objects that have become embedded in the foot pads while running. Greyhounds are particularly lame with this injury and often don’t respond fully to anti-inflammatories. They need surgery to remove these pieces of grit, and the surgery can result in corns.

A Fractured hock, carpus or metacarpal/metatarsal might be a racing career ending injury, but not necessarily a life ending one. Depending on the extent of the fracture the greyhound may have no lameness with a walk or light run, or may end up with a completely fused joint. Generally these dogs are only retired to pet homes if they can still get themselves around pain free.

A Split Webbing is an injury to the web of skin between toes. When this skin tears it’s nearly impossible to get it to heal if both layers are torn, so the recommended technique is to split it all the way to the base of the toes and remove the webbing. This doesn’t seem to bother the dogs at all, and prevents it from re-tearing over and over again as it heals.

Maxillary Fractures are a rare injury of long-nosed dogs who are also klutzes and trip over, slamming their nose into a fence or the ground. This upwards force can fracture the upper jaw, just in front of the canine teeth. These fractures may be non displaced, causing little more than a blood nose and needing pain relief and soft food for a few weeks, or they may be loose and need wiring. They are fairly uncommon overall, but it seems to be greyhounds that get them most.

Associated with racing greyhound husbandry, Neospora infection from raw, infected beef consumption (and similar Toxoplasma from kangaroo or sheep) is more common in greyhounds due to their high prevalence of raw meat being fed. It may present as anything from back pain to blindness, and you can lose whole litters to these parasites.

There are a number of odd Assorted Sports therapy things that greyhounds might be subjected to, from particular lineaments being used, ultrasound therapy, chiropractic treatment or 'seeing the muscle men’, some of the 'treatments’ racing greyhounds are exposed to seem more like hope and witchcraft than medicine. These dogs may also have been supplemented with all sorts of things during their racing days, including iron and B12 as the most common supplements. You don’t necessarily know what a dog has or hasn’t been given in its racing days, but most will be little consequence, if any, after a few months.

Racing greyhounds are also known for a few particular metabolic weirdnesses. Exercise associated heart conditions, exercise associated epilepsy, water diabetes (like a temporary diabetes insipidus), rhabdomyolysis and acidosis are the most well known.

Anaesthesia

Now, this is an interesting difference. Greyhounds are a bit different when it comes to anaesthetics. Most vet students will easily recall that barbituate anaesthetics aren’t recommended in sighthounds due to their proportionally low body fat (and very young or very fat dogs for the same reasons), but greyhounds also seem to have a different liver metabolism that makes handling this class of drugs more difficult. Fortunately there are many other options these days.

The whole 'they die under anaesthesia’ thing is…sort of true. If you put them under anaesthetic when they’re under 24 hours off the race track then they tend to…well… die. But when these dog’s have been at rest for at least 24 hours there doesn’t seem to be a particular increase risk of death specifically.

These dogs are prone to both hypothermia and hyperthermia under anaesthetic, and in life in general.

They are prone to rapid wake ups from anaesthesia, which is not fun when you have a 30kg dog thrashing about and freaking out. For this reason higher premed doses seem to help if you’re using an alfaxalone protocol, medetomedine/butorphanol works well for sedation and we usually use xylazine/ketamine/atropine for orthopaedics. I will not be posting dose rates on this blog, but rest assured greyhounds are perfectly able to have an anaesthetic. They’ve got to get their dental disease treated somehow!

Compared to other breeds

Generally greyhounds are considered pretty healthy. They’re not free of problems, but their common problems are different to common problems in other breeds. Greyhounds have one of the lowest incidences of hip dysplasia in purebred dogs,  and rarely develop the same common structural issues we see in other breeds.

Their blood results are often a little different. A greyhound in racing condition will have a higher PCV, and a pet greyhound may keep this in their retired life. They often have a lower platelet count,  by around 20-25% or so, and may have a relatively low T4. A low T4 can be normal for a greyhound, and hypothyroidism shouldn’t be diagnosed without a TSH level.

They are, in general a little more prone to being clingy or developing separation anxiety. This is generally because most of these dogs are raised in big groups in a kennel situation, and may not get to be truly 'alone’ until they’re in a pet home. Some dogs just need a few weeks of being spoiled with TLC to adjust, some dogs need some pharmaceutical assistance for a while. Some dogs only really relax if they have a companion, but it depends on the individual.

So that is the greyhound breed from a veterinary viewpoint in a nutshell. Some of these points are brief because I only want to give you an overview, but I do recommend vet students spend some time in a greyhound practice, even if you don’t want to work with them or the racing industry, because the musculoskeletal exam of a greyhound is so much more thorough and I understood hocks and carpi much better in greyhounds than I ever did in horses.

Phew, that took a while to write. If you would like to support Dr Ferox’s writing time you can via Patreon for as little as $1 a month!

3

Azucena

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Sim downloadable from the Sims 4 Gallery under wondercarlotta8

I Still Haven’t Won Against You

Part 1


Jeon Wonwoo x Reader

Summary: Played poker with him once. He lost. He finally got the rematch he wanted so badly but he lost again.

Genre: Mafia AU, smuttish

Word count: 2,590

Originally posted by mc-gyu

You have no idea how you got yourself into this situation. Seemingly only a few seconds ago you were afraid to go out of your house, hoping not to meet him and the next he had you pinned against the wall, making you feel all sorts of things. And now! Now you’re sitting, playing that stupid strip poker he came up with it. Luckily for you, you were so much better at this, still having all your clothes on. You watched him take off his shirt and throw it on the ground. You took the wine glass and sipped your drink, hoping he won’t notice you staring.

“How the fuck I keep losing against you is beyond me,” he sighed, leaning his head against the armchair. “I need another drink.”

He stood up and went to the kitchen. He kept doing that every time he lost, getting more and more irritated when he came back. Mostly because his phone has been ringing non stop all evening. You heard him argue with someone again before he hung up and continued the trail of thought he had.

“It’s been like what? The 5th time I lost now?” he shouted from the kitchen.

“6th,” you corrected him.

“And here I hoped I will get to see you in all your glory,” he pouted.

“Keep whishing,” you thought, standing up and picking his shirt up. You put in next to his other clothes. At least he still had his pants on. You noticed something fall out of the shirt and bent down to pick it up. You couldn’t believe this. It was a card. That sneaky bastard was cheating all this time! But you still managed to win, the goddess of fortune was on your side.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” startled, you jumped up. You didn’t feel him approach you from behind at all. You turned around to look at him.

“What’s this? You cheater ~” you teased him, waving the card in front of his face. He quickly snatched him from your hand.

“You left me no other choice.”

“Yeah right! I knew you were a cheater. I noticed it the first time we played.”

“Oho!.. You noticed? The first time?” this caught his attention. He took a few steps to you, still holding the wine bottle in one of his hands. “Were you watching me?”

You started blushing, of course you were. He was sitting right across you but that wasn’t the only reason. He took a few more steps to you, till you hit the table with your back. He set the bottle on it, cornering you between his hands. You put your palms against his well toned chest in attempt to push him off a little but he kept his stance. You could feel his heart beating.

“Were you?” he whispered to your ear, leaning closer.

“Weren’t you?” you retorted. A smirk appeared on his face as he looked you in the eyes.

“Caught me red handed,” he breathed out. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you to him. “That’s what makes you special,” he said, before clashing his lips with yours. You didn’t know what you expected but you must say the wine tasted better off his lips. He pushed you to the table, before lifting you up and setting you on top of it, only then breaking the kiss but he still was so close, you could breathe in his air.

“Are we too drunk or do you really want this?” he whispered. You hooked your legs around his waist and you chuckled as he kissed you again, picking you up and going in the direction of his room. “I will take that as a yes.”

You heard his phone ring again but you two completely ignored it. He threw you on the bed, almost falling on top of you. Your hair spreading everywhere.  He took a few strands off your face, stroking them gently.

“Shit, with all this obsession to play with you, I never got the chance to tell you, how beautiful you are,” instead of letting him see you blushing, you used this opportunity to get another kiss, yanking on the tie he still was wearing for some reason, you ran your tongue over his lips.

“So needy,” he breathed out before going in for it. As he swirled his tongue around yours, he tugged your hair slightly to allow better access. He pulled away to get some air but you two were still connected by a slim trail of saliva. He bit down on his lip.

“Shit,” he said, nibbling down on your ear, sending shivers down your spine. He continued from the ear down to your neck, kissing and sucking on your skin, making sure to leave marks. You could hear his phone going off in the distance.

“Don’t,” you panted out, raking through his hair with your fingers. “Don’t answer.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” he said, shoving his knee between your thighs, he got one hand under your skirt and began hiking it up before you stopped him.

“How about you start from the top?”

“How about you don’t interrupt and let me take care of things,” he smirked, getting a hold of your arms and pinning them above your head, still doing what you suggested. He began unbuttoning your shirt but he quickly got tired of it and quite literally ripped it open.

“Wonwoo!” you whined, “This shirt was expensive.”

“Don’t worry, I will buy you a thousand more like it, after this,” he took it off and threw it on the ground along with his tie. You couldn’t help but notice how stunned he was.

“What? What is it?”

“They’re perfect,” he said more to himself than to you. He cupped your breasts. “So perfect, they fit right into my hands.”

“Wait for what you will see when you take this off then,” you teased.

“Can’t wait to find out,” he unclasped your bra. As if knowing what’s going to happen tonight you even put on the one that opens up in the front. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was just him but somehow you didn’t feel even slightly embarrassed exposing your half naked body like that. He went straight for one of them, planting kisses and sometimes sucking harshly while kneading the other. He pulled away, admiring his work, he brushed over the marks he left, making you fell sparks all over your body. Your breathing hitched as you couldn’t take the tension anymore.  

“Wonwoo-“ you whimpered.

“You asked for this yourself,” he teased, getting one of your nipples between his teeth and biting on it, making you moan.

“I would prefer if you were louder,” he took it whole into his mouth, you could feel his tongue snake  around it, when he released it with a pop. You immediately realized what it was. His phone. Again.

“Don’t you dare,” you ordered.

“Those pricks,” he hissed before giving you a quick peck on the lips and standing up.

“Wonwoo!” you shouted after him. What an asshole! Is he seriously going to leave you hanging like this? You lay down on the bed waiting for him to come back. After listening to his shouts who were incomprehensible from this distance, for at least five minutes, you clasped your bra back on and took your shirt from the ground, putting it on. You got off the bed and went to where he was. As you got closer you could hear the bits of the conversation.

“I said I’m not coming a hundred times today… No… No, it’s not about her… Can’t you just raid them and be done with it?.. Why am I even needed?.. No, you listen to me you motherfu-“

“Fuck!!” he shouted, smashing, his phone on the ground. His chest was rising from heavy breathing. You could see that he was pissed. Something that still scared you.

“Those idiots can’t do anything without me,” he clenched his fists, before turning around and noticing you standing in the doorway. He came up to you and started buttoning your shirt up.

“Is everything okay?” you asked him.

“Yeah,” he said, avoiding your gaze. “Work,” he simply stated.

He had trouble with the buttons though because he ripped half of them off a few minutes ago, so he got his shirt from the armchair, where you placed it before. It was way too big for you but you loved it, it had his smell rubbed off on it. He buttoned you up all the way to the top and you felt like a child, letting him dress you up like that.

“Is that it? Just like that?”

“I’m sorry but this is important…” he sighed. “I must say that this is way harder for me than for you.”

You caught up with what he meant right off the bat, sparing a quick glance down to his waist. He went to the hall to get your shoes and you closely followed after him.

“I already called for your ride back home, so don’t worry about that,” he explained. He gave you your shoes but you didn’t feel like putting them on. “Please don’t get mad… I feel like… I finally got to talk to you, even touch you without you running away… I want to know that I still have a chance.”

You didn’t know what to say, him saying those things didn’t feel like him at all, you were used to seeing him all cheeky and sly so you just gave him a smile while he guided you to the elevator. He went inside of it and gave you one last passionate kiss, he looked you in the eyes still holding onto your bottom lip with his teeth for a while before stepping out and pressing the button for the ground floor.

“When?” you asked.

“Be patient,” he said, as the door closed.

▲▼▲▼▲

As soon as you were alone you pressed your head against the cold metal wall of the elevator. Oh my god! Were you about to have a one night stand with your ‘stalker’? That’s so not like you. Or could it have been something more? You were completely spaced out that you realized you need to get off when other people started getting in. You walked into the lobby and ignoring the looks people were giving you, started putting your high heels on.

“You must be Y/N.”

“Jesus! Don’t scare me like that!” you looked up to see a man, almost as handsome as Wonwoo is.

“I’m Seungcheol. I will take you home. Come with me,” he said, going to the exit. You quickly finished putting your shoes on and followed after him.

“Were you the one who called him just now?”

“Nope. He has his own things to take care of,” he opened the back door of his car for you.

“Can’t I sit in the front?”

“It will be safer if you sit in the back,” he said. You decided not to argue and got in. The back windows were tinted. Maybe that’s what he meant. Why are you so trusting anyway? At least you can blame it on you being quite drunk if anything happens.

“I live on-“

“I know where you live,” he said, looking at you through the rear view mirror and starting the engine. “Wonwoo told me all about you. Actually the only thing he has been talking about for the past months was you.”

You wondered what he knew and if Wonwoo and him are close. You decided to use this opportunity to find out something about him because he seemingly knew everything there is to know about you.

“I heard he lost against you,” he was the first to speak again. “That was a big surprise for all of us. He hadn’t lost in ages,” he laughed.

“Is that good or bad?” you asked him.

“Depends,” he gave you a quick glance again. “What were you two doing up there?”

“Why cards?” you changed the subject quickly.

“It’s almost the only thing he’s good at. He got himself in a pretty nasty situation. He needed money. The easiest way for him to get some was poker,” he took a sharp turn and you slid down the seat. You found the seatbelt and fastened it. How fast is he driving?

“What did he need the money for?”

“If you don’t know this, it means he didn’t tell you on purpose. I guess if he wants to, he will tell you yourself one day,” he shrugged. After taking a few more turns, you were already home.

“Last question,” you said. “Who are you exactly?”

“I’m the leader.”

“The leader?” you repeated. “Of what?”

“He never told you that too?” he started laughing again. “Then the only thing I can tell you right now is that I’m his boss.”

Is he serious? Leader? Boss? What the hell is he talking about? Both of them are suspicious after all.

“Getting serious though,” he said, turning in his seat and sending you a glare. “I hope I never see you again. You distract him too much,” he leaned over the seats and opened the door for you. “Now, could you please get out of my car?”

You gave him a quick thanks and stepped out, slamming the door shut. You watched him speed away, down the street. Rude.

▲▼▲▼▲

He told you to be patient but it has already been a few weeks till your little get together. You had to finish these documents by the end of the week but everything from the clock to the thoughts of him sidetracked you. Someone knocked at your door and you got up from your place on the sofa to go get them. You looked through the keyhole and opened them with the speed of light.

“Wonwoo?” you questioned.

He came in and kicked the door close with his feet, wrapping his arms around your waist. He started kissing your neck and you had to push him off.

“Wonwoo are you drunk?” you could smell the alcohol from here.

“I need you,” he said, embracing and holding on to you tightly. He nuzzled his head in your neck. “Sometimes… I just can’t do this.”

“Do what?” you asked but he was quiet. “Wonwoo?.. Are you?.. Are you crying?”

You brushed his hair off his face. He was actually half asleep. Great.

“How much did you drink? Why were you drinking in the first place?” you threw his hand, around your shoulder and dragged him to the bed. Man is he heavy. You dropped him down but as if he waiting for this precise moment, he grabbed your hand and pulled you to the bed. He rolled over, so he could be on top.

“What are you doing?”

“Finishing what we started.”

“I’m not doing anything with you tonight, you’re too drunk.”

He hovered above you for a few seconds. Gazing into your eyes when he plopped down on top of you.

“You’re right,” he whined. “I want to remember every second of it.”

“Wonwoo, could you maybe get off? You’re heavy.”

He did as you asked but still didn’t let go and instead snuggled up to you.

“I’m staying over,” he said.

“Of course you are,” you rolled your eyes.

“You know,” he started again. “I never won against you.”

“So?”

“So…” he said, drawing your body closer to him. “I still can’t let you go,” he whispered into your ear.

Newsies at the Muny

So, I have had the amazing opportunity to see Newsies at the Muny this week. This show is incredible, but its so impressive because the cast had ten days to rehearse/learn lines before opening night. so heres some things that i noticed that are different from the broadway productions/things i just really liked.


Here’s a picture of the two set pieces they used a lot-when they’re pushed together, they were the lodging house.

in the opening song, you can see the rest of the newsies sleeping against the poles on the bottom level while Jack and Crutchie sing.

Danny Quadrino playing Crutchie again was so amazing because he already has such a thorough grasp on the character-the ‘watch me run’ was so giddy, but directly after that he looked so sad, not only in his face but his body language made him look just…dejected i guess.

when Crutchie went down when the circulation gates opened for the first time, immediately someone (i can’t remember who) grabbed him and helped him to his feet

Les was picked up so much by everyone throughout the show-the first time being when Jack strikes his deal with him, Jay picked up Gabe and stood him on the wagon so Gabe was taller than him. 

Les didn’t look to Davey for confirmation when Jack said ‘60/40′, he just made the deal himself

LES WAS LIMPING, COUGHING, AND BEING AN ALL-AROUND LITTLE SHIT TO SELL THAT LAST PAPE I LOVE HIM

instead of sounding scared on ‘is that the guy you’re meetin’?’, this Les just sounded curious, like he wanted to know what Jack was going to do

on ‘not even me, Miss Medda?’, Jay leaned over the railing and put his arms out from his sides and it was adorable

in That’s Rich (first of all Ta’rea was incredible), Les was sitting on his heels at the side of the backdrop, but kept on inching closer as the song went on

I Never Planned On You/Don’t Come A-Knocking started in the box, but Katherine moved down to stage level to watch the show from backstage, and that’s where Jack started to draw her

the line ‘they was coronas’ didn’t sound like Race was defending himself, but like he was bragging about the fact that he got coronas

after Les said ‘we got a father, too!’, one of the newsies (damon is the actor’s name, i don’t know which newsie he played) gave him a little bow

instead of writing STRIKE on the heading board, Jack wiped the chalk dust away to form the word

on ‘whaddya call these guys?’, i heard one of the guys do a sing-song ‘hellooooo’

World Will Know was just…so good

at one point in Watch What Happens, Katherine was on a wheeling chair and she pushed herself away from her desk her desk was center stage and she made it to halfway off stage on stage right i was impressed 

Seize the Day was so good

the papers were really different-instead of individual papers, they had them in stacks. There was a little bit where Les was jumping from stack to stack after each newsie dropped their stack in front of him…the noise was pretty loud

Les got picked up several times

the fighting was really good-so much was happening at once

So i realized that Morris was the one to grab Crutchie first because he yelled ‘hey Oscar, look what I got’, and then one of the Delancy brothers yelled up to Jack basically the same thing which was ‘heyya jack, lookit what we got’

Danny Quadrino’s yelling ‘jack’ broke my heart, and so did Jay yelling back ‘crutchie’ in the most desperate of voices

after crutchie was arrested, some newsies ran back onstage being chased by one or two of the strike-breakers. they looked absolutely terrified 

Santa Fe almost made me cry

Act 2!!!

King of New York was so. good

each newsie got his own pape, bc katherine didn’t just bring one, she brought an ENTIRE STACK

they didn’t start tapping until after the whole ‘lets get drunk’ bit, meaning that you couldn’t hear the taps because they hadn’t turned the stage mics on yet

on ‘barbershop haircut that costs a quarter’ the actor took off his hat and shook his hair (he had fairly long hair)

THEY MOVED THE TABLES DURING THE SONG-they were the same configuration as the broadway production at the start (one in the middle and straight and two others, one on the left and the other on the right, slanted a little) but then they moved them to all be pushed together like one long table

also on the right and left sides they had Muny teens tapping alongside the cast it was great

LETTER FROM THE REFUGE MADE ME CRY OKAY

danny quadrino is amazing and my heart hurts

also i have made several friends cry with my stupid analyzing of that song but i won’t put it here to save y'all from that

jack angstily painting is me okay y'all

the Pulitzer cartoon wasn’t a foot, but a hand pushing down on the newsies

here:

the ‘and i got a date!’ line was delivered so perfectly oh my lord

during the scene change, they closed the front picture-like thing the Muny has for every production, and Les, Jack, and Davey all went behind it but Katherine was pulled to stay in front of it by Pulitzer

‘which one gives us more in common?’ got a round of applause

there was such a gasp from the audience when Pulitzer said ‘my daughter’

in brooklyn’s here, about four boys started at far stage left before a spotlight hit about 17 guys that were house right-the four guys met up with them and they traveled across the house before stopping at house left for the whole ‘borough what gave me birth’ bit, before going down an aisle to get back to the stage

at the rally there was the entire cast of newsies, plus Muny teens and kids.

when jack went to stage right to get his money, it was thrown on the ground for him to pick up

when Les saw the money, he put his arms out and looked really upset. Davey just looked dejected before pushing Les away

when katherine kissed jack, it got a whoop from someone in the free seats

something to believe in sounded soooo good. also at the end, the set piece they were on spun to the back (bc the Muny has something similar to what hamilton does-a floor that can spin) and they were kissing until they stopped moving again

ONCE AND FOR ALL WAS AMAZING AND LET ME TELL YOU WHY

they did the toss thing and it was great

so they each got their papes, right? and they all headed to the top of that set piece above to sing

on ‘this is for kids shining shoes in the street with no shoes on their feet every day’, the kids who you can kind of see on the bottom of that set piece in the picture started to walk forward, oldest first. they all walked with their heads cast downwards

on ‘ten thousand kids in the square’, the lights went up and all the kids snapped their heads up from their feet

then, they all crouched/squatted/sat on ‘joe, you is gonna play fair, once and for all’

the cast that was on the set made their way down and as the whole  ‘there’s change coming once and for all. you’re getting too old, too weak to keep holding on’ thing started, they each handed a pape to a kid on the ground (each handed out like two or three)

as each kid got their pape, they would read it, and stand up with their fist in the air

on the last chord, everyone punched their fist in the air

also none of the teens/kids sang during Once and For All, it was all the cast/offstage singers

‘he doesn’t do happiness, does he?’ was SO WELL-DELIVERED

jay’s impression on ‘its a compromise we can all live with’ wasn’t as harsh as corey’s, but it was spot-on with how Davis Gaines had said the line earlier

LOOK AT THESE SIGNS THEY HAD

when crutchie came back there was so much celebrating

also jack and crutchie had the BEST HUG IVE EVER SEEN I LOVE THEM    

crutchie giving snyder handcuffs was amazing i loved it

LOOK AT THEM DURING FINALE

and now here’s some pics of the cast being goofballs backstage/bowing

i love jack sippel he’s great

thats during king of new york btw

in conclusion, newsies at the Muny was amazing and if they don’t do it again in a few years and have the show go for 10 days instead of 7 i will fight

also its like 2 in the morning. i started writing this at like 11:30. what.