and how much i need to see it

Thursday is Bath Day

Get yourselves ready for some serious fluffy smushy shit. I love a good bath, and couldn’t get this out of my head so I thought I’d type it out.

Let me know what you think, and if you have any requests for future oneshots, you can ask me HERE.

906 words.


Harry hummed as he knelt by the free-standing bath, hands fiddling with the tap as he tried to find the perfect temperature. It was Thursday, and every Thursday his miss would get home at 6pm, tired and grumpy, and sink into the pre-run bath that Harry so carefully set up each week. It was a tradition that had gone on for as long as Harry could remember, and whenever he was at home in their shared apartment, he made sure he followed through.

Normally, his better half was a big snuggler, and the pair would spend every second that they could around each other. They were both keen on physical touch, and it was one of the things that made their relationship so fulfilling. Thursdays however, were sacred. She would always have her bath completely alone, and Harry knew that it was her time to just be with herself and think. So, while she was in the bath, he would go and run on the treadmill. He loved the feeling of running for the sake of running, his heart pounding and limbs covered in a light sheen of sweat. It was his alone time and it was just as sacred as hers.

Harry was pulled from his thoughts as he heard their front door open and closed, and the sound of shoes being kicked off carelessly, and he smiled to himself, shutting off the taps to the full bath and heading out to greet her. “Hey you,” he said, grinning at her, his arms open wide. She gladly accepted his embrace, her arms wrapping loosely around his waist and lips pressing a little kiss to his neck. “Hey,” she mumbled, eyes flickering shut. Harry pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, enjoying the feeling of their bodies against each other. “You had a big day love?” he asked softly, his large hand rubbing over her back. “Mm,” she hummed, her check against his chest. “C’mon then. Ran yer bath… C’mon,” he answered, pulling away gently, his hands finding her shoulders as he guided her to the bathroom.

“Righ’,” he said, fingers finding the zip to her dress. Unzipping her, he smiled, watching as she shivered slightly when his fingers made contact with her bare skin. He gently undid her bra, sliding the straps from her shoulders and tossing it into the laundry basket along with the dress. “There yer go,” he murmured, lips pressing a gentle kiss to her neck. He loved seeing her like this, and it wasn’t even that sexual for him. It was more comforting, and he felt so lucky to be the person she had chosen to share these vulnerable moments with. “’M gunna be runnin’,” he said, meeting her eyes as she turned to face him. “N’then we can make some dinner? Pasta good?” he asked, smiling at her. “Mm,” she answered, nodding and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Love yer,” he stated as moved to leave. “Love you more,” she replied as he shut the bathroom door.

He had only been running for about ten minutes before a familiar hand lightly touched his back. He jumped, stopping the treadmill and turning to look at the figure which had caused his surprise. “Oh! Sorry,” she giggled softly, wrapped up in a big, white towel. “S’ok,” he chuckled. “Tha’ was quick!” he smiled. “I…” she sighed, reaching out for his hand. “Not done. Just… I thought… I just would quite like you to join me.” Butterflies began to flutter in Harry’s stomach and he squeezed her hand, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. So often she caught him off guard like this, turning him back into the nervous, infatuated teenager he’d been for the first few months of their long term relationship. “F’course miss. I’d love to. Y’alright though?” he asked gently, concern causing his forehead to wrinkle. “Yeah. Just want to be close to you,” she answered. “Been one of those days,” she sighed, her shoulders tensing slightly. “Oh little one… C’mon,” he replied, leading her back to the bathroom.

He was quick to discard his sweats, jockeys and tshirt, slipping into the bath, his legs spread to create a space for her. “Ooh…” he exhaled, enjoying the feeling of the warm water against his skin. “In yer get,” he grinned, adjusting slightly as she got in with him, her figure slotting almost impossibly perfectly against his own. “Can see why yer love this so much,” he murmured, his eyes half closed and his fingers trailing lightly up and down her arms. He could feel her relaxing against him, and he hummed happily, enjoying being so close to her. He knew she felt the same way as she nuzzled into him, her own eyes closing and body going almost floppy at his touch.

“I am so grateful for you, Haz,” she murmured, her voice almost a whisper. “Was thinking about it today. How you always seem to be able to give me exactly what I need. I don’t even think you know how much better everything is when you’re around… Mm… I love you,” she finished, pressing a couple of lazy kisses to strong arm that was cradling her. It didn’t take much to get Harry emotional, and her words washed over him, his eyes almost threatening tears. “Love yer to the moon ‘n back,” he murmured, smiling contentedly.

anonymous asked:

What's with the alcoholism post? You also don't seem to be enjoying reyes week between your posts today and the deleted ones last night.

LOL call me out why don’t you nonny.

Like, at the risk of getting unfollowed and possibly provoking ire from a general corner of the Reyes fandom: no, I am not enjoying this Appreciation Week. So get ready for this big word vomit of a vague post.

There are posts that are referring to alcoholism as cute and sexy, which imo is just really insensitive and romanticizing an addiction many struggle with. It’s one thing to portray him (whether by fanfiction or fanart) enjoying his favorite bottle of whiskey or relaxing with a drink. It’s wholly another to do that and THEN label it in the cutest terms possible as alcoholism. The last part is an entirely added step that didn’t have to be there.

I also don’t mean to generalize, because a lot of great fanart and fanficlets are being written for this week. However, I am just kind of done with Reyes as the scary Latino lover who lets their lily white Ryder enjoy what it’s like being “dark.” 

There’s a history of this trope being used; there’s a history of literary examples of Latino characters allowing for white protagonists to explore a darker side to them in completely romanticized terms. It’s a history of white people writing people of color as an intrinsically other and morally compromised without any exploration of systemic issues, of social strictures that place them in such positions, etc.

To clarify, I do think Reyes is a morally complicated character who sees contrivance and murder as necessary. Yes, even the collective has a torture chamber, but these are standard espionage practices done by any military or militarized faction. To ascribe these actions to one individual as a symptom of how inherently “dark” he is makes me wonder whether people have ever heard of Machiavellian politics, and whether they understand these political intrigues occur as part of the US capitalist imperialist machine to begin with (and NOT with sadistic spicy Latino lovers).

Don’t even get me started on the shipping wars with bierasure, in which one side makes really misogynistic statements using the pretext of criticizing bierasure (as if bisexuality means only ONE gender can fit the bill and receipts need to be pulled to prove one’s bisexuality). 

By the way, for all this talk about racism when people were being critical about Andromeda, I see none of you ever supporting Ryders of color or Ryders made by writers of color. There is even much fewer people respecting Latino culture that goes behind a character like Reyes. 

And it’s funny how selective some of my followers get. They have no problem liking and reblogging things I post that let them enjoy this vision of Reyes undisturbed, but the moment I call out problematic fandom participation, these posts get (WEIRDLY) ignored. 

So at the risk of being that blog that calls people out for problematic bullshit and getting unfollowed for it, here’s the fucking tea. 

A Court of Spring and Stars Pt. 2

Word Count: 2085

Kieran

The wind hits my face in a rush, smelling of vanilla and roses as I fly through the dark, starlit skies. I shouldn’t be out so late, flying alone at such a late hour, but I couldn’t help it. I felt that tugging, that thing inside me telling me to go for a flight.

So here I am, flying in the dark with the strangely sweet-scented wind mussing my dark hair. I can’t pretend that it doesn’t feel good to stretch my wings and it’s not like I was getting anymore sleep tonight. Not after the dream.

I always have the same dream. Of a young girl running ahead of me, slightly-curly, blonde hair flying behind her in the wind, and singing. Singing such lovely songs, always different and always beautiful.

Sometimes they’re sad songs that make me want to wrap her in my arms forever and never let her go and other times they’re love songs that make me want to take her in my arms and dance with her, spinning her around for as long as she’ll let me.

But I never see her face at the end of these dreams.

I can’t pretend I haven’t tried to picture what she should look like and try to draw or paint her. It never worked out. I can only ever draw her running away from me. Maybe one day she’ll run towards me.

I sigh and turn around as I see the sun starting to rise.

I fly onto the balcony of my room in the townhouse in Velaris and quickly lose my wings. I collapse on my bed and go over tonight’s dream in my head.

It started out quiet, only the crickets humming, then I heard it. Her lilting, silvery voice faintly singing.

You’re the lullaby
That’s singing me to sleep
You are the other half
You’re like a missing piece
 

I raced after the voice, trying to find it’s source. I ran so fast I was sure she could hear my feet slapping from wherever she was.

Oh my love
Oh my love
Oh my love
You don’t know
What you do to me
 

Her voice was louder then, closer. I thought I saw a strand of golden hair a few feet away, disappearing into the treeline.

You are all four seasons
Rolled into one
You’re like the cold December snow
In the warm July sun

I saw her then. Her golden skin, her long silky hair, her petite form, the light blue dress that flowed behind her.

And she was running again, but not towards me.

I’m the jet black sky
That’s just before the rain
Like the mighty current
Pullin’ you under the waves

That song. If only she had slowed down. If only I could have caught her. I would pull her close and show her just how true it was.

Oh my love
Oh my love
Oh my love
You don’t know
What you do to me

Slow down. I chanted in my mind. Slow down. Let me catch you. Let me see your face.

I nearly caught her, my hand slipped through a wisp of golden hair.

That was the end of the dream.

I sigh and look out my window only to find that the sun has completely risen. Time to head to breakfast.

I stroll out of my room and downstairs, admiring the paintings that hang along the walls as I go. Most are my mother’s and only a few are mine. I’m afraid my artistic skills aren’t as on point as my mother’s but I love painting and sketching so I continue.

I pause briefly when I catch a glimpse of the only painting of my mystery girl that I ever let my parents see.

The painting features the young girl running away into a deep, emerald green forest with golden curls and a plum dress flying behind her in the mystery of the dark of night - most of the dreams are set in the middle of the night - a shower of stars shining above her head.

I only showed them that one because I thought the plum dress made her match with the night making her look like a wisp or spirit of the night. They were so proud, my mother’s eyes shown and my father thought it deserved to go next to her works of art.

When I step into the dining room Aunt Nesta slaps a heaping plate of blueberry pancakes and syrup with a glass of milk at my usual seat at the table.

“Eat, now.”

I smile and salute her. “Yes, ma'am.”

She glares but sends me a smile as I sit down and dig in, barely tasting the pancakes before I swallow them.

“Please chew before swallowing. If you choke, your mother will kill me.”

I nod, but keep eating them the way I was before.

Uncle Cassian walks in and his eyes widen while his mouth makes an ‘o’ shape, “Where’d you get those?” then his eyes find Aunt Nesta. “How come you never make me blueberry pancakes?”

She shrugs and says, “I didn’t know dogs ate pancakes.” but even as she says it I can see love glinting in her eyes.

He pouts at her and she rolls her eyes, walking into the kitchen. She returns with a plate for him too.

He digs in and mumbles, “I knew I loved you for a reason.”

She snorts. “I love you even though you never make me blueberry pancakes.”

He looks up from his plate. “I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to the pancakes.”

She cocks her head. “Well then, looks like my darling nephew is the only one getting pancakes from now on.”

I chuckle as he narrows his eyes at me. “I’ll fight you for the right to the pancakes.”

My mother’s voice floats into the room, “Please don’t fight my son over pancakes.” I look behind me and see my parents standing in the doorway watching us with amusement.

I stand and walk my now finished plate to the sink in the kitchen and stride back to the dining room. I nod my head towards my parents. “You ready to go?”

My father rolls his eyes. “As ready as I can be.”

My mother gets a far-away, pained look. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for the Spring Court.”

I always hate when spring comes if only because it reminds my mother of her time at the Spring Court. She sometimes gets these sad looks and has different nightmares than her usual ones. This visit is going to be horrible for her and it’s really going to test mine and my father’s control. I might actually try to kill the High Lord because of the shit he put my mother through. But we need this, we need to try to fix the strained relationship between our Courts.

I look up from my thoughts to see my father cupping my mother’s cheek and looking deep into her eyes. Sometimes they stare at each other for hours, not talking just staring. Their mind-speak gets creepy sometimes, but I know that right now my father is telling my mother about how we’ll always be right next to her and how much he loves her and how much her children love her.

That’s right, children. I’m the oldest of three. Everybody thinks that my mother being human before being High Fae makes her able to conceive easier than a normal Fae. My younger siblings are twins. Stella and Aedon, Aedon was named after my mother’s father, they’re only eight years old and they’re total pests. Aunt Elain and Uncle Az are going to watch them while we’re gone.

I walk up to my parents and place my hand on my mother’s shoulder. “Mom, we should probably go.”

She nods and turns away from my father to face us all. “Do I look scary enough?”

She’s wearing an all-black, quarter-sleeved dress that shimmers like diamonds in the sunlight whenever she moves and she has her hair up with her crown tucked into it. She likes to think that all the black and the crown makes her look scary, but I think it just complements her and makes her look prettier.

But I indulge her. “If you looked like that when you used to scold me I might I have run away screaming from your terrifying appearance.”

My father winks over her shoulder, casting an approving glance at the comment, as my mother smiles and kisses my cheek.

She grabs my hand and my father’s hand, ready to winnow out, but stops and glares at my aunt and uncle, “Please don’t destroy our house while we’re gone.” and we winnow away.

The darkness pulls around us and I marvel, as I always do, at the magic that sends us to a completely different place in seconds. I see starbursts in the darkness and suddenly we land in a room decorated in emerald green and gold tapestries and rugs.

As I survey the room, I feel something tugging, the same tugging I feel that makes me fly in the middle of the night. Tugging me towards the furthest side of the room.

I see a man with a sneer on his face seated in a throne on a dais. Tamlin. High Lord of Spring. Abuser of my mother. My fists curl of their own accord before I can stop them. I’ve never seen nor met this man before but I want to bash his face in.

But then I see her and I freeze, unable to even let out the gasp that clogs my throat.

A young girl standing with her back to me. Golden curls spill down her back and her tan skin stands out against her pale pink gown.

I’ve seen that back a thousand times. Always running away from me. Always in a dream.

I hear my mother’s voice pierce the silence of the room.  "Hello, Tamlin, it’s been awhile.“

I feel my father’s eyes on me and I know he’s already compared this young girl to the one in the painting and wants to know how exactly I painted someone I’ve never met. Well, I want to know how I dreamed of someone I’ve never met.

But then the girl turns around and I swear I forget how to breath. I’m seeing her face for the first time and I swear she’s an angel.

She keeps her head down but I can still make out her facial features. Her sharp oval face looks full and healthy and - even though she has dark circles under her almond-shaped eyes - her green eyes look lively as she takes us in as her full, archer’s bow lips part in awe.

She even more beautiful than I imagined.

Her eyes roam over us, studying us and they widen as she looks over my father and I, probably noting how similar we look, but then she gasps and realization races into her eyes.

Her eyes widen even more as she looks at my mother and father in awe. It’s when her eyes roam over me again that I lose the ability to speak, otherwise I would introduce myself.

Head still bowed, those jade eyes roam from my head to my toes in awe, maybe even attraction or at least appreciation, and I realize I stand at least a head taller than her, maybe more, she’s so tiny. Short and thin like a twig - she doesn’t have the curves that most of the Night Court and Illyrian women seem to have - and it makes me wonder if maybe she doesn’t eat as much as she should, like how my mother ate when she was here.

I realize I’m searching, searching for any reason to believe she’s actually the girl from my dreams - the girl I draw every day - other than how similar she looks from behind, when her eyes slowly meet mine.

She’s gaping and as she notices that I’m staring at her as much as she’s staring at me she slowly closes her mouth and a pretty redness flames her cheeks. Damn, she’s gorgeous when she blushes.

She bows her head again. I wish she would stop doing that, I’ve been waiting over a year to see the girl from my dreams in person and now I can barely see her face. But then she slides into a curtsy and I hear the silvery voice that always sings in my dreams say, "Welcome to Spring Court.”

Note: So the song lyrics are not mine, the song is Northern Wind by City and Colour. Um, I’m really happy about all the support I’ve been getting from all of you. You’re all amazing! Thank you all! I have some shoutouts: @eliza-hamilton-helpless @aelin-and-feyre @nerdofmanypages @highladyofthedark @fandoms-things-stuff @pleasantlysecretpeach and @bluephoenix222. Please follow these amazing people and please comment on the story. Give me theories as we go along and some constructive criticism. Thx, much love to all of y’all!

Dear fandom,

We won the Alpha Madness Poll for Bob Morley, I know we can win those polls right now.

Please vote for Bellarke

We’re the ones who tried to spread positivity in the fandom, the ones who send love and support to the cast, we deserve to win.

But to win we need to vote. And we only have a few days left.

So vote for Bellarke as much as you can, open several tabs, refresh as many time you can, vote on your mobile while watching a movie, vote vote vote

Signal boost this, tell your friends, make some noise!

Please also vote for I See You to show how much you enjoy Tree Adams!

If you need more infos to vote please message @bcrevolution @morleybell @blyedeeks

anonymous asked:

Do you have any ideas/theories about the curse of ymir? Whether they will try to stop it somehow or if it's even real? Like how are they going to deal with this? It honestly stresses me out so much and makes me so and I know bc of it we probably won't get a very happy ending but I continue to read theories and give myself some home anyway. Though most theories are so fucking sad omfg lmao

Hi anon! I’m sorry this response has taken so long, this is probably the toughest ask I’ve had before, so it took awhile to think about. We have a few options for this. I’m just gonna run down the line.

1. They can’t stop it

     The least favorable answer. This way, all of the Shifters would die before the series ends. There’d be nothing anybody could do, and the series ends hopeless. I don’t ACTUALLY think this is likely though. I don’t have the interview, but Isayama I think it was, mentioned something about how the number 9 occurs a bunch in snk, and that it’s related to “the end of a cycle.” That probably ties into the To You, 2000 Years in the Future thing. I’m thinking it’s probably something like a 2000 year curse, and it breaks at the end of the series.

2. Reunification Theory

     This is probably the one I’ve seen thrown around a bunch. The basic gist is that somebody has to take all of the Titan powers back into themselves. What happens next kind of varies. Maybe they summon Ymir Fritz. Maybe the Shifter puts themselves into Annie’s crystal stasis, then they get buried at the bottom of the ocean. Maybe THAT’S where To You, 2000 Years in the Future comes from. 2000 Years later they find the Crystallized Shifter at the bottom of the ocean.

3. EEEEEEEEK Theory

     Someone from the Ackerman Clan (Mikasa) summons Ymir Fritz, tells her to fix it, she does. @falcon94ssy is the mastermind of this theory.

4. Reunification Theory Except It’s With Eldia And Marley But Every Time Eren Gets Captured It Gets Faster

     This is probably my favorite one atm, but I think the series would have to be a bit longer for it to work. Basically, Paradis fights Marley, they work things out, and then they venture out into that mysterious forest that Ymir Fritz is always depicted in and literally get like, archaeological evidence for how to fix it. Maybe there’s like an ancient tablet with secret Shifter instructions? I haven’t really given this one too much thought, but I’d love to see everyone reunite to find Ymir Fritz or something related to her. Something to give them an idea. It sounds like it’d need its own arc though.


Sorry again for the super delay in this response! Thanks for the ask!

geekyowlet  asked:

Would Fresh even be able to inhabit PJ?

It’s probably not ideal for a parasite to latch onto PJ. While it isn’t… like… entirely impossible for a parasite to grab his soul and take control, there’s a lot of other details that they probably would look at and go “Oh gosh no I’m not gonna take the blob dude”. 

Some of these are:

  • “HA! I got you n…and now I’m a puddle. How do you de-puddle? UH… DUDE? HOST? CAN YOU PLZ TELL ME?! STOP SCREAMING AND TELL ME HOW TO NOT BE A PUDDLE?”
  • “YES! I got the sou… Woah WOAH DUDE is this body fully INK? I can’t operate a soul swimming in INK?! I will -” (parasite looses the grip on the soul and falls off)
  • (and even if they can stay on) “… THERE’S SO MUCH INK HOW CAN I EVEN SEE WHERE I’M GOIN?!?”

So it’s like.. a trade off. Want a soul with a medium/large amount of magical energy? Well then be ready to be a puddle for a few weeks to feed off of that energy!


Note: This is all my viewpoint on parasites and might not land up with how parasites act. 

anonymous asked:

its been literal weeks and i still cant get over matt saying "is looking into my eyes making you fall in love with me all over again?" to steph send help

Honestly what a mood, Matt’s unending need to flirt with Stephanie during competition livestreams is one of my favourite flavours of stephew (right up there with casual touching stephew, fond looks stephew, and Stephanie doing something while Matt like plays with her hair or massages her hand stephew).

God, it never ceases to make me smile when I check my activity feed and see someone just running through and liking every post lmao like, someone is sitting down and reading the things I wrote, sometimes for hours at a time, and sometimes they reblog with little comments in the tags and it makes my heart burst outta my go d d ayu m chest its so special and gratifying I love it I love you I appreciate everyone who reads my writing so much you don’t even know

Originally posted by kiamkiamkiam

i dont meet up with anyone from online anymore bc this is what i’ve figured out: they think that i have made up some internet persona where i am not actually this much of  a mess/drunk irl but i totally am. i tweet dumb things people think they can relate to about being drunk every night etc that they can laugh at and i LIKE THAT but it’s not just a joke. if im being social i pretty much always need to be drinking. it sucks but those are the facts and people. especially guys. thinks it quirky or whatever but then when they hang out with me and see it’s all real and i was telling the truth and just not being #edgy online they get pissed off that they didnt get all my attention and went off and did my own thing. idk what else to say besides, i told you straight up this is how i am and how i have fun? im not trying to defend it at all but i fucking told you

kms18  asked:

I wanna kill myself really bad, I just don't want my little sister to find me. Shes so young and she doesn't need to see that. But idk how to do it without her finding or seeing me dead

Well the best way to do it, so she won’t see you dead, is to not kill yourself.

I can imagine how you have to feel like. I know it feels like it will never get better again and it feels so much like the end. But you have to hang in there. In a few years you will look back at this moment and be proud that you’re still alive. You’re going to be so happy because you were able to experience so much you don’t want to forget. You will be able to see your sister grow up.
It may feel like the end, but it isn’t. This is not the end. It’s just an obstacle you have to overcome and I know you will, okay?
You can do this. You are worth it. Please keep fighting. You’re a strong butterfly.

Please, please, please seek professional help if you don’t have it already. You deserve to recover, you deserve help, you deserve to live. You’re worth it.

Lots of love to you 💞

inkstranger  asked:

I signed the petition :D Are yall still getting a lot of support and signatures for it? I see its less than 2000 signatures away, and I'm really hopeful that you'll get all the signatures you need :D

Thank you so much! We do what we can, and every little bit helps. The more signatures we have, the better. 

We were advised by one of the writers for The Clone Wars that we really need to have evidence that there is still a demand and following for The Clone Wars series, and it is difficult to do that without a solid number. 

How does one really measure a fandom and its activity, sum it up and present it to Disney and say, “Yeah, we are interested. We want this show to be finished, please?”

Petition // FAQ // Site // Youtube // Facebook // Twitter

Blind

A LuNyx fanfic set in my Kingsglaive AU where Nyx works as a bodyguard for Luna regularly unless ordered to battle.

Summary: A beginning, a middle and an end of how a glaive copes in situations where he can’t rely on his sight.

Author’s Note: This idea started out in one of my chats with @fabulanova-ffxv. I was like “I need to write angst.” and she was like “Yeah, you’ve been writing too much fluff.” And then this idea popped up. Since I feel like I’m out of practice with the angst, I mixed fluff into it lol.

Word count: 6,300+

Nyx could only see black.

The cloth fitted around his head nicely that no light was leaking in. Even so, He pulled the knot tighter behind his head for good measure.

He tilted his head side to side, stretching the muscles and bones of his neck. After that, the shoulders moved in circular motion, easing any amount of tension that was left in them. He continued to perform quick stretches for joints and muscle until he reached to the routine where his feet were doing the bouncy steps.

When the bodily preparations finished, he tuned into his other senses.

He felt the hilts of the kukris in his hands - their familiar weight, their balance in his grip. The faint breeze touched his bare skin of his back and torso, reminding him of the window he had left open. The heel of his boot hit the floor and the sound of it echoed across the room, which gave him a sense of how big the training area was as it had always been. He inhaled deeply and picked up a light floral scent which he thought was odd and familiar at the same time.

And then he heard an electronic beep – a signal from a timer to make ready.

He made a stance, bending forward, stretching one of his legs back, holding the kukris in a certain way – one blade pointing upward, the other downward.

He waited.

Keep reading

thedarksideoftheslash  asked:

Trying to cope with my sad feelings I got a sad and angsty idea, I'm already sorry for it- Hux has multiple boyfriends and lovers, but Kylo thinks he's the only one. He discovers this in the worst moment ever: while proposing to him. (Tbh I'm crying already)

(I’m sorry you’re feeling sad today, darling 💕 come talk to me if you feel like you need to!)

this is so angsty! Kylo is head-over-heels in love with Hux; he’s handsome and smart and never fails to tell Kylo how much he likes spending time with him, and Kylo can’t wait to ask Hux to marry him and keep him forever

but Hux brings all of that down when he tells Kylo that their relationship isn’t anything serious, it’s open like they agreed it to be, but Kylo didn’t know that ‘open’ meant ‘see other people’…he thought it meant keeping their relationship honest and true

Kylo is absolutely heartbroken 💔 and Hux knows he shouldn’t feel bad…but he does

anonymous asked:

do you have any headcannons for how korra and asami would be as parents?

Simply put, AMAZING.

There is one struggle I have, in writing my fanfic: I see them as both wanting multiple kids, having been very lonely growing up and having so, so much love to share. But at the same time, as a writer, every kid I introduce to a series that’s gonna be predominantly short stories, that’s another child character I need to introduce and keep track of. Everybody seems to really adore Mian, I may still sneak in a sibling, but I’m unsure right now.

As for their parenting… Asami is obviously gonna be the ‘rules’ one, the one who creates a sense of order, but she’s also the one who can answer any question, solve any problem, and think of the most fun ways to play. Asami may be a little reticent at first about having kids, but once she gets that maternal pang she’s in full on Mom mode. She pushes her kid(s) to excel, but always makes time for them, or when she absolutely can’t, makes up for it with interest. Like, literally, she has a formula.

Korra is the fun mom, the one you go to if you want a ‘yes,’ the one you know will let you get away with murder. She gets scolded by Asami as much as the kid(s) do, but more for letting the kids get away with so much. But part of that is because, she can be called away at a moment’s notice, and there’s always the possibility she’ll be in danger. Her PTSD, of course, never goes away, and sometimes she actually has to leave for a few days to not worry her kids. Once in a while, it’s bad enough that Bopal or someone has to babysit, because Korra needs Asami to help her through it. Both moms think the kids don’t know, but the kids know more than Moms think.

They always do.

One time, Mian does something any kid might. She throws a doll up into the air, but she fails to catch it, and Korra watches as the doll lands on its legs and breaks them. Her fight with Zaheer flashes back to her, and she has a severe episode. Mian is convinced it’s her fault, and she feels so terrible for hurting Korra’s heart that she wants to run away. But Asami and Korra talk to her, and explain Korra’s past, and that it’s never never never Mian’s fault.

Afterwards, instead of having her doll fixed, Mian asks if the doll can have a wheelchair instead, because she still loves the doll just as much. Even more, because she knows how brave it is.

APPARENTLY I’M NOT DONE CRYING ABOUT DOLLS (yeah i’ll probably write that at some point)

anonymous asked:

Reading your imagines and seeing how you write really motivates me to write again. I've been at rock bottom, in terms of writing, for months now. Yet, when I read your stuff, I feel so motivated to try again. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is thanks for writing and being an amazing writer.

I might actually fucking cry heck thank you so much

Yes! Go forth and write! Write short stories, write one shots, write stories with only two sentences, write fanfics where all the characters are lizards, as long as you’re writing then that’s all that matters!

Sorry about the amount of mod posts tonight;

I’ve had an uncomfortable amount of people wishing to see gifsets of hayley either impaled or being flung/knocked out/enduring violence over the course of the season, I just deleted 8 from the inbox that came in over the past fortnight, but there have been similar ish requests for the entirety of the season

I see that a lot of people requesting them are roleplayers - so I understand why some of you may wish for these to be able to use as reaction gifs, if you come to me again and still need the gifs, we’ll work something out, which may end up being me making the gifs and sending them directly to you rather than making them as posts

others however have come on anon and to me I dont see good intentions with them as I’m fully aware of people out there who reblog gifsets like this to put in the tags/comments how much they hate hayley and want her to die or she got what she deserved or how much joy they derive from her pain, or to rip on phoebes acting, so I’m sure you can understand why I don’t wish to gif scenes purely of hayley being beaten/staked/thrown about

I have deleted all the requests asking solely of gifs of hayley being abused in some way or another, I hope you can all understand

Character Creation - Where The Hell Do I Start?

How do I create characters is one of those questions in the writing world that no matter how many times it’s answered, and no matter how much content is out there we still see it over and over and over, so today I’m going to break down one of the reasons I think this question never feels answered for some writers.

I often see this question answered in two polar opposite ways.

The first way is to say just make up as much as you need to for the character in question, and while that’s true and helpful, it’s only helpful for those that already have a character idea particularly set out.

It doesn’t help someone who’s just trying to create character from scratch.

The other way I see this answered is with long character sheets or questionnaires.

These come in the forms of roleplaying style forms to fill out, or a hundred questions, or a list of traits and favorites.

These are great to flesh out a character that you already have a good solid idea on, but the problem with this answer is if you are just starting to build a character this is overwhelming.

So what we’re going to talk about today is a niche I think is being missed when a lot of writers ask How do I create a character by breaking down just a few specific things every character needs.

Keep reading

theeggplantavenger  asked:

Yo bro I just gotta say how much I'm loving everything in qoe rn obvi I'm the biggest slut for this fic and like my bro my dude my friend when we gonna get qoe!kara and canon!cat interacting because I need this I'm so ready just fuck me up my dude just fuck me up ps last chapter ruined me but what else is new I get wrecked every damn time

aye bruh! it’s on it’s way, don’t you worry. qoe!kara is telling herself it won’t do her any good to see this woman who isn’t her wife, but people who’re homesick just want to see something that reminds them of home. clark kent is a sanctimonious ass, and national city looks the same, except it isn’t. and she’s just lonely, and who better to make her feel better than someone who is cat grant, even if she isn’t the right cat grant.

chronic-sarcasm  asked:

hello! this is v. random but i follow joker-ace and i saw your url when she reblogged the 5 scoops of ice cream ww post and i was like- kingburu? why do i know that? cue me going to your page and seeing the AO3 tag AND SUDDENLY ALL THE MEMORIES RETURN and by that I mean i read all (A.L.L.) of your PJO fics man i had a Need for jasico and you Filled it WOW HOW COULD I FORGET THE CAP CROSSOVER anyway thank you for all that you wrote it made my days better :^)

i am an ARTIFFACT NOW


ahahaa thank you so much for the compliments! This made me smile looking at it. I hope you got a chance to look thru my jasico tag too <3 

I wish I knew how to close my eyes whenever I’ll see something that hurts me or my feeling. I wish I knew how to close my ears whenever I’ll hear something that I don’t like and just ignore everything. I wish I knew how to open my mouth to say something when everything’s too much, when I just wanted to say things out loud but instead I open everything that needs to be closed and close one thing that needs to be opened. I pretended that I don’t know what’s going on, even if I do.