allow me to help you

(In which Reyna has no idea that she could possibly be gay, and takes a while to figure it out)

  • Every time the hunters stay at Camp Jupiter, Thalia always insists on training with Reyna
  • Reyna is usually cool-headed and collected but always gets really flustered around her
  • The other hunters always wink at Thalia and give her a nudge and Reyna can’t help but feel like they’re talking about her
  • Thalia constantly flirts with her and finds it adorable how oblivious Reyna is
  • Every time Reyna needs to make an announcement to the whole camp, she has to avoid looking at Thalia in the crowd or she forgets what she’s saying
  • She tries talking to Jason about it and it’s awkward
  • ‘Why is your sister so..I don’t know. Intimidating? But, like, in a good way…’
  • Jason goes kind of pale and pretends he needs to ‘talk to Piper about something really important’ because he can’t breathe from holding back laughter
  • Reyna going to literally everyone and asking them about Thalia because seriously, does no one else get this really weird feeling when they’re around her?
  • Everybody except Reyna knows that she totally has a crush on Thalia
  • ‘Just let her figure it out in her own time, okay?’
  • Eventually Nico sits her down and is like….look…
  • Reyna has training with Thalia the next day and can’t even look at her without melting from embarrassment
  • Oh my gods was it really that obvious?’
  • She tries to admit her feelings to Thalia and expects her to be really grossed out or disturbed but she just smirks and says ‘well it took you long enough’ before pulling her in closer and kissing her.

i want to be your hero.

i want you to love me the same way they love batman.

when you feel like no one else cares, i want you to know that i care.

when you feel alone, i want you to feel me supporting you.

i want you to think of me when you feel lost and unguided.

i want my art to help get you through hard times.

allow me to inspire you.

allow me to capture your heart.

allow me to touch your soul.

allow me to relieve you of reality.






by shxlton

Imagine: Balin Giving you Love Advice

Originally posted by daryl-dixcn

   An exasperated sigh left your lips as your vision was blocked once more by your hair falling in front of your face.  The Company had set up camp, and you were tasked with gathering firewood.  Every time you knelt down to gather a fallen branch on the forest floor, your hair would fall in front of your eyes.  It was really getting on your nerves.

   You had tried just about everything: brushing it back with your fingers, combing it into a ponytail, and even attempting to braid it.  But unfortunately, you did not have anything to keep it in place.  Your hair clips had gotten lost on the journey.

    “Allow me to help you with that.”  You recognized the kind voice of Balin as he walked over to stand beside you.  He reached for a strand of hair, but hesitated as he looked to you for permission. “May I?”

   You were grateful that he wanted to help, but also a little confused.  “Yes, thank you very much.  But Balin, isn’t hair-braiding a sign of courtship in your culture?”

   “Not always, child. It can also be done by people close to you.  Like family,” he replied.  He motioned for you to take a seat on the nearby fallen log as he set to work on separating your hair for the braids.  “Seeing that you’re on this journey without your relatives, and that you’ve become like family to us, I thought it would be fitting for me to help.”

   A smile spread across your face as you were touched by his words.  All members of the Company cared about your safety, but Balin had become more of a grandfatherly figure.  He made sure you had enough to eat, had a good enough cloak for the weather, was there to hear you out whenever you needed a chat.  You remembered when you first met him right before you joined the Company.  He made such a fuss over your clothes since he was not familiar with your culture.

   “Goodness, child,” he had said.  “Your shirt doesn’t have sleeves and you’ve got holes in your trousers!”

   “Where I come from, jeans with holes in them are quite fashionable,” you had explained in amusement.

   Since then, he took it upon himself to look after you and help you adjust on the journey.  He also enjoyed telling you stories about the history and culture of his people.  Some of the information he shared was meant to remain secret to outsiders, but he had come to trust you and saw no reason for you to use the information against them.

   “Thank you,” you said quietly, grateful for his friendship.  

   “You’re very welcome.” The smile was evident in his tone. A comfortable silence fell between the two of you as he worked.  He was so careful with your hair, not even pulling at the strands once.  You let your eyelids flutter closed as you relaxed a little more.  “Such beautiful hair,” he commented, moving to work on the braids in the front.  “And such a brave and respectable young lady.”

   You kept your eyes closed, but smiled.

   “It’s no wonder a certain member of the Company is so taken with you.”

   Your eyes snapped open at his statement, and you turned your head to look at him in surprise.  Somehow, you you knew exactly who he was talking about.  “What?”

   “Please remain still,” he fussed.  “One of the braids almost came undone.  I would have had to start over.”

   “Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, turning your head back to gaze straight ahead as you did before.  You wondered if it would be wise to inquire further about his comment.  

   “It seems you fancy him as well,” he concluded. Yep, you were both definitely talking about the same member of the Company As if he knew you were about to protest, he spoke.  “I may be old, but I am not oblivious to such things, ________.”

   “I assure you that I have no intention of getting in the way of the quest,” you said.  “He has a duty to the Company and the quest. Besides, I’m not so sure he feels the same about me anyways.”

   “There is a way to find out for sure,” Balin said mysteriously.  He went quiet, hoping that you’d take the bait.


   He smiled mischievously. “Suppose you were to, I don’t know…accidentally get an injury.  A mild injury.  A sore ankle while walking back to camp, maybe.  He won’t be able to mask his concern for you.”

   “Mr. Balin,” you gasped at how sly this plan of his really was.  “Are you suggesting I feign an injury to see him worry about me?”

   “Perhaps.  Perhaps not.”

   “Honestly, I didn’t know you could be so… sneaky.”

   He chuckled, and then he stood back.  “There. I used a few of my spare beads to keep the braids in place.”

   “Thank you again,” you said, standing up and gently brushing your fingertips along the back of your hair. It was one long braid composed of three smaller braids all tied together neatly.  “I have to get back to gathering firewood.”

   “Be careful.  We wouldn’t want you to hurt your ankle, or anything,” he said, winking.  You laughed at his suggestion, shaking your head.  You weren’t going to go through with the plan.  There was no need to make anyone worry unnecessarily.  But it was definitely amusing nonetheless.

(Author’s Note:  The unnamed Company member in this story can be referring to any of them.  And AWMAHGAWSH!  I can just picture Balin as being this overprotective grandfatherly figure, but also kind of a nosy old person that can’t resist meddling with people’s love lives, haha!) Also, gif is not mine.  Credit to original owner!

@taylorswift I was born different…I guess you could say I’m a pretty rare human. I’m an identical twin, but my eyes are also two totally different colors. I’m different on the outside but I also feel different on the inside too. I don’t fit in with people my age. I don’t like the same things people my age like. I struggle a whole lot with change and my self esteem. I’m 21 but I still have no idea who I want to be or what I want to do. It makes me sad. I’m telling you all this because I wanted to say thank you for sharing your stories through your music and allowing me to grow up with you. You’ve helped me through the last 8 years of my life and I know you’ll continue to do the same for the rest of my life. Thank you, Tay. I love you more than words can describe. I hope some day I can be comfortable with who I am and can maybe stop struggling with my self confidence so much and learn to embrace who I am like you do. You’re truly the big sister i’ve always wished I could have and I’m forever thankful for you. I love you, T.

xoxo Juli

  • What Sherlock said aloud: "For the sake of law and order, I suggest you avoid all future attempts at a relationship, Molly."
  • What Sherlock was actually implying: "You're not allowed to date any other sociopath or man other than me - only I am allowed to break the law with you and help you get away with it. Nobody else. K Molly? K."
This is for the black men who feel like they can't be depressed..

Broken man.. Let me help you.. Let me be the light you haven’t seen in a while, let me take the weight off your shoulders. Allow me to help you put yourself together. I want to be that friend for you.. I want to be there with you.. But not just as a friend anymore. Broken man… Let me into your heart. Show me the world from your point of view. Tell me about the battle scars on your soul. Take off the armor. You don’t have to be a knight today.. Let me be your superhero for a bit.. I want to save your from yourself. Let me be the person you want to run to when the demons are here, I know their ways. Let me protect you from them. Let me fight for you. I’ll fight til my last breath to make sure your safe. Broken man.. Take a seat, relax.. Let me help you breathe.. Beautiful broken man, let me fix you, let me make new art from the shattered pieces. Show me the parts of you, no one wants to see.. Broken man, let me hold you. I know you’ve heard it before..but I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to add to your pain. I don’t want to make you feel tired. Beautiful broken man, let me give you what you need.. I won’t take you for granted. I’ll tell you every day you mean something to me.. I’ll make sure every day that you feel like you’re on top of the world. All I want to do is see you smile. I see the golden treasure, buried deep under insecurity, depression, and anger. But I’ll dig deep, I’ll tirelessly dig with my bare hands if necessary. I’ll push past the guard to your heart. If you aren’t ready for me.. I’ll wait for you. Beautiful man..let me admire you for what you are..


Originally posted by wonderlaaaaaand

“You, too, are just mere moments away from being on fire as well!”–Maleficent. YAAAS QUEEN!

In villainy, looking your best is something quite desirable and there is nothing wrong with that notion. Nevertheless, that has never been exactly a reality in my life. What I have learned after years of bowing to everyone and keeping to myself is that it is indeed best to project security, power and fierceness.

So four intents and purposes I am going to teach you a spread that will help you focusing magical energy to project it to others. It is a glamour. There are many wonderful gifts to be gained from it. I have always admired the way one of the last Fairy Queens had to make everyone still their tongues and bow down to her. My dear Villainous Friends have done everything in their unholy power to give you an ever expanding magical arsenal to make things happen. Please, allow me to help you look like you mean business.

Keep reading

the-great-dio  asked:

i hope this isn't a bother but i have a lil would the 2ps react if they, say, spill coffee on reader's homework she worked hard at (i apologize for my terrible english and thank you very much! :з)

((you’re welcome, and your English seems fine to me~ btw, i’m only gonna do the Allies for this one bc the answers start to get repetitive.))

2P: [accidentally ruins your work]

2P!America: shitsHITSHIT I’M SO SORRY OH MY GOD….,,, um errr uH YOU CAN HIT ME IF YOU WANT [prepares himself for a semi-hurtful punch,]

2P!China: [jaw drops] ……oh god i’m sorry please don’t hate me [hUG TACKLES YOU] don’t hate me please i love you i’m so sorry oh god no fUUUCK [genuinely very concerned he screwed up]

2P!England: M-My sincerest apologies! Here, allow me to help you clean this mess up– [cleans up your workspace] There, all nice and tidy! N-Now, is there any way I can help you with your lost work? I’ll do anything, poppet, I assure you…! [near tears bc of the guilt]

2P!France: aw crap– [flustered] here let me… [awkwardly tries to clean things up but ends up accidentally making it worse] shit…….,,, [looks you directly in the eyes] i am so fucking sorry okay

2P!Russia: My mistake… [tries to save the rest of your work from getting drenched] I’ll… make it up to you. What were you working on? I’m sure I could do it for you…

2P!Canada: fucking hell [looks at you to make sure you’re okay] …did anything spill on you? uh, sorry… here, take my wallet [not sure how to pay you back for your lost work so he gives you like $12 and runs away]

lil-miss-mona  asked:

If you want hurt/comfort allow me to give you: mom friend/therapist veronica who secretly helps out the heathers when they're dealing with personal problems. Also: heather c lives au where veronica is the only one who visits during recovery

Aw cute

anonymous asked:

i love your male sims and i would love to have some of them in my game, but i've never downloaded a sim before. how does it work? do you just put it in the mods folder like usual, and where does it show up in game? thank you!!!

Aww thank you! :D Allow me to help you out with this handy little tutorial I whipped up:

How to Download A Sim:

A Photographic Journey to Simliness by WyattsSims!

And that’s all there is to it! I hope that helps! :)

(Text version under the cut!)

Keep reading

Let Me Help You

Am I allowed to request another? If so… Can I have one where the reader is being abused and tries to cover bruises from the team. Hotch eventually find out and gets really worried and tries to help her. Thank you ☺️

I can most certainly do this one!  Obvious trigger warnings for the prompt at hand.  Here is your one-shot, comin’ ‘atcha!

(Part 2  Part 3)

Even in your manipulated state, you knew this was getting out of hand.  You had run out of tattoo foundation, so you had stopped to wearing the only sweater you owned in the middle of July.

In a room full of profilers.

You thought you had covered everything up well.  You never cried on the way to work.  You were a make-up wearer, so the switch in foundation went unnoticed.  You were even able to look up ways to fake a genuine smile when someone asked about him.

But today you slipped up.

Today, you knew someone would figure it out.

“Feeling cold?” Morgan jousts as you walk through the door.

And that gave you an idea.

“A bit, honestly,” you muse lowly as you drop your eyes, tensing as you make your body shiver a bit.

“You feeling alright?” Reid asks, looking up from his coffee as you flop down into your chair.

You were scaring yourself as to how easy it was for you to look sick.

“Eh, I’ll live,” you murmur, laying your head down on your desk.

Were you even lying at this point?

“Y/L/N?” Hotch bellows from the rafters.

Sliding your chair out as you give another fake shiver, you wrap your arms across your chest as you lazily ascend the stairs and slump into Hotch’s office.

“Yes, sir?” you ask weakly.

“Go home.  You’re obviously sick,” he says as he sits his bum back onto the edge of his desk, crossing his legs over one another as he folds his hands in his lap.

But he was home today.

You didn’t think about that.

Oh, no.

And as the panic began to rise in your chest, Hotch saw it rise behind your eyes.

“Y/L/N?” Hotch asks, ripping you from your thoughts.

“I swear I’m good, boss.  Some tylenol’ll fix me right up,” you say, brightening your spirits instantly as Hotch furrows his brow at you.

You were being seen.  You faltered in your make-up purchasing, and you came in without a plan, and it was revealing your lie.

“Shut the door,” he motions with his head.

Locking eyes with your boss, you swallow thickly as you slowly turn, reaching your arm out to toss the door closed.

But you reached out a bit too far.

Turning back around to your boss, you are met with his wide-eyed stare.

“What the hell is that?” he asks.

“W-w-…what…what is what, boss?”

But you knew.

You knew he saw.

Feeling involuntary tears rise in your eyes, you watch as he strides over to the windows, shutting the blinds as you fold your arms even tighter around your chest, causing you to wince as your mind drifts back to last night.

A night you wanted to wholly forget.

“Talk to me, Y/N,” Hotch urges, grasping your upper arms as he sees you wince.

“Come here.  Come here, sit down,” he urges, walking alongside you as your feeble legs move you to the couch in the corner, watching your boss-turned-friend sit down beside you as you sniffle and avoid his gaze.

“What is going on?” he asks soothingly.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to say it.

What if he heard?

“Then show me,” Hotch says, almost as if reading your mind’s thoughts whipping across your face.

Drawing in a shaky breath, you grasp the bottom of your sweater, your fingertips vibrating with fear as you finally drift your wide-eyed, wet, fearful stare back up to his.

“I’m not angry at you, Y/N,” he soothes.

And that’s when you let your tears fall as you slowly lift your baggy sweater over your head.

Placing it in your lap as you close your eyes, you bring your hand to your mouth as you stifle your sobs, Hotch’s eyes watering at the bruises his eyes are taking in as he feels the anger begin to bubble in his chest.

Bruising around your neck.  Black, angry rings around your wrists.  Deep, welting, scabbed over bite marks along your breasts.

And that was just the skin he could see.

“Do you have your go-bag with you?” he asks you lowly.

You met his question with a nod of your head.

“How many outfits does it have?” he asks.

“F-…five…sir…” your lips tremble.

“Y/N, listen to me.”

And that’s when you felt Aaron’s hands take yours.

“Do you want out?”

The question hit you like a ton of bricks.

“Is that even an option?” you breathe, meeting his gaze as a tear slips out and down his cheek.

“It’s always a choice,” he whispers.

What a relief it was to nod.

“Alright.  Who are you more comfortable seeing the doctor with?”

You felt your body seize up.

“No.  No, Hotch.  Please…just…no…no just…please…”

Your pleading broke his heart.

“You need to be seen by one.  Not just for evidence, but for your own well-being,” he urges.

“Noooo…” you moan lightly as you shake your head.

But you knew he was right.

Feeling him keep your hands steady you close your eyes as your tears begin to streak the cover-up make-up from your face, revealing the yellow and pale-black bruising under both of your eyes.

Hotch began to see nothing but red.

“J.J., please…” you whisper.

And just like that, he was up off of the couch, throwing his office door open and bellowing down to the crowd.

“J.J., up here with Y/N.  Take her to the doctor on the premises.  Rossi, I need you to go home and make sure one of your guest bedrooms is prepped for Y/N.  She’s gonna need a place to stay for a while.”

The entire team was looking around in shocked and confused states as J.J. flies her legs up the stairs.

You slumped your shoulders in shame as you heard her run into the room, bending down in front of you as her wide, worried eyes take in the make-up dripping off of your face and onto Hotch’s couch.

“Oh, Y/N…” she whispers as you begin to whimper with your sobs.

“Morgan.  Reid.  With me,” Hotch commands as he jogs down the stairs.

“What’s going on, boss?” Reid asks as they all begin to make their way to the elevator.

“We were right,” was all he says, his eyes connecting heavily with Rossi’s before they all step onto the elevator.


“FBI!” Morgan roars out as he bangs on the front door of your apartment.

But he was met with silence.

Nodding to Reid, Reid throws his shoulder into the door as Morgan rears back and kicks at the doorknob, the three of them stumbling into the apartment with their weapons drawn as they take stock of the disheveled apartment: vases overturned and broken, furniture flipped, your glass coffee table shattered.

It made their blood boil.

“Nick!  Get out here you sonofabitch!” Morgan roars.

And then the cocky little bastard came striding out of the room.

“The fuck!?” he yells, holding his arms out, clad in nothing but his boxers.

But no amount of emotion about seeing the apartment in shambles could’ve compared to the anger that wafted through Hotch’s system when he saw them.

The red, scabbed, bruised, angry marks running down his chest.

The red, scabbed, bruised, angry marks of nails.

Nails raked in desperation.

Nails raked in horror.

Nails raked in fear…

It stunned both Morgan and Reid in their spots.

“You, Nicholas Purdy, are under arrest,” Hotch growls, holstering his weapon as he whips Nick’s arms around his body tightly, the man groaning in pain as Morgan’s face contorts in disgust.

“Did she wail in pain like that as you pinned her down?” Morgan glowers.

“Arrested for what!?” Nick bites.

“For the assault and rape of Y/F/N Y/L/N,” Reid growls.


But Nick’s sentiment was cut short as Hotch rips him towards the door, Nick’s feet stumbling under him as he tries to catch his footing.

But then Nick ripped his head back and began to yell

“How the fuck can you rape your own girlfriend!?”

And like clockwork, Aaron finds his lips against the man’s ear.

“When she says no, and you keep going,” Hotch snarls.

“Ngh!” Nick puffs, his head colliding with the stair banister as Hotch’s attack stance quickly straightens into a professional one after shoving Nick out into the hallway.

“Oops,” he rumbles lowly, “you really should watch your footing.”

“Police brutality!” Nick roars into the hallway.

And as Hotch slowly turns his head towards Reid and Morgan, the both shrug their shoulders as they holster their weapons.

“What?” Reid asks.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” Morgan grunts.