and it didn't work out in the end and I wasted time on it

cinderella: redo

so i was watching cinderella while doing my nails and waiting for them to dry which was clearly a Mistake because now i can’t help but think -

the evil stepmother was always evil, okay. say her abuse of her own daughters was different than that of cinderella’s - but it was still abuse. giving them impossible expectations, telling them they were never good enough, never pretty enough, never smart enough. and then she gets married, and anastasia and drizella are ecstatic because this man seems kind and warm and maybe just maybe he can temper their mother, maybe with him around she won’t be so cruel. so they’re on their very best behavior in the beginning, they do just as their mother taught - they trot out their best upper court manners in an attempt to get their new stepfather to like them. but it just comes off as cold and snooty and they’re trying, they are, they’re just bad at it. and they see how he is with cinderella, the smiling girl their own age, and they are jealous. they don’t mean to be, they try not to be, they know it isn’t becoming of young ladies. but she gets hugs and kisses and affection and they get rulers slapped on their hands when they reach for desert and sharp jabs to their sides when they slouch and - soon they hate cinderella, not for anything she’s done, but for what she has and they dont

but then her father dies. and it’s all a tumble of things and cinderella is crying and they’ve lost their only chance at escaping their mother’s clutches and it’s terrible. and everything settles and there’s no reason to be jealous anymore but resentment is hard to let go of and they don’t know what to do. they’re only kids too after all. and they’re so terribly bad at comforting people, they can do flowery words and know all the right bows but cinderella is so sad and they just don’t know what to do with that, because they’re supposed to be sisters but they’re not even friends

and slowly but surely their mother starts abusing cinderella, starts making her a maid in her own home, and she’s their mother, what are anastasia and drizella supposed to do? she rules them with an iron fist, and cinderella doesn’t even like them anyway, it’s none of their business.

except one night anastasia crawls into her sister’s bed in the middle of the night and wakes her up. “i was thirsty,” she explains, eyes wide and shiny, and they’re bad at this with other people but drizella has no problems with pulling anastasia into her arms. the younger girl clutches her sister and continues, “i was thirsty and i went down to the kitchen to get some water and - and cinderella is still up! she’s doing the dishes, and she should be asleep, mom is going to make her make breakfast in the morning and -” she cuts herself off with a hiccup and whispers, “it’s not fair.”

“life isn’t fair,” drizella says, echoing one of their mother’s favorite phrases. but her sister is staring at her with wet eyes, and it’s not like their mother is likely to get up before sunrise anyway, she hates waking up, so she pulls herself and anastasia out of bed and off they go.

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50% OFF Starters pt 2
  • "If you continue your attempts at flirting, I will be forced to take DRASTIC measures."
  • "I like watching you from behind."
  • "Stunning deduction sherlock."
  • *demonic voice* "by the darkest sun that casts its menacing rays of the furthest madness, we sense your intentions, (name). the gibbering of mad cultists whisper wicked words to temporal winds, they inform us that you are not to be trusted. Usurper. Usurper."
  • "USURPER!"
  • "I've heard a lot about you and your extensive collection of tank tops, like I'm thinking about getting like 10 more."
  • "Calm down little dude."
  • "the fear of drowning is a primal one. it's a feeling of helplessness, of losing all control. struggling against an inevitable fate as your lungs fill with water..."
  • "I don't need a piece of paper to tell me how to swim or how to fuck Dean Winchester."
  • "You know I had a dream like this once, you surprisingly had more clothes on, though, at least at the start."
  • "ten bucks says he dies."
  • "I'm gonna go run my feelings off."
  • "Yeah it didn't work out... for them."
  • "I have to go scream confusing, end-of-the-world ramblings at people under the freeway."
  • "I feel like I should argue this, but the potential for implied sexual antics is far too appealing."
  • "do not be alarmed! I am about to be hilarious."
  • "Maybe you should stop dragging me to these rap battles then!"
  • "I WANT YOU TO SHARE THE THINGS IN MY LIFE THAT ARE IMPORTANT TO ME!"
  • "I was under the impression there would be implied sexual antics, time to take matters into my own hands!"
  • "This feels a little exploitative."
  • "I need a soda. Or therapy. Probably both."
  • "Yeah it started because K-pop concert security is tougher than it looks but I just got hooked on the feeling of crushing someones face in with a solid right cross."
  • "sHHSHHshhshhhhh shut up shut up! shh I SMELL BOYS BEING GAY."
  • "Excuse me I am trying to scream my feelings into your mouth!"
  • "That wasn't hot... it was just fucking weird..."
  • "It's not what I would have you in, but I do appreciate beauty in all its many forms. mostly that cute booty though."
  • "hey, the heart wants what the heart wants."
  • "It may be hard to believe, but recently I lost the ability to read."
  • "Just because you can't read the words, doesn't mean you can't enjoy the book in a different way."
  • "boom! done. advice over. let's go get shitfaced!"
  • "Alright I brought the bitch-board for (name)."
  • "Alright let's call it what it is, a sissy paddle."
  • "calm down (name) we weren't talking about your internet search history."
  • "MY SWEET BABY SWAM!"
  • "didn't we make a pact to stop her from doing this weeb shit?"
  • "this better not be anymore or (name)'s weird porn!"
  • "Please call the police, because I look so good in this it should be against the law! uh, don't actually call the police though, I WILL incriminate all of you."
  • "Yeah but didn't they train on those islands where all those teenagers were killed? ...and those witch burnings happened? ...and all that toxic waste was spilled?"
  • "if you die, I get fired and I like this job. people don't ask questions here."
  • "fish-men walk among us. conquerers of land, BORN FROM THE OCEAN--"
  • "I don't need him to make weird pornography, I have prawns for that."
  • "Finally moving out, son? I'd like to say it's been fun. I'd like to. But I won't."
  • "hey check me out! I'm on a bout!"
  • "Sit down and stop making 2009 references!"
  • "nah, I scream enough at the unforgiving void of space."
  • "DON'T STEAL MY BONES!"
  • "You know, the ocean goblin? He lives in the ocean and if you don't brush your teeth he steals your bones."
  • "Ok I'm done for the day. If anyone needs me I'm gonna be in the tent looking at weird porn."
  • "Hey, you miss every ball you don't hit."
  • "You say 'you people' like you're not part of the family. I've got some news for you, you're already on the christmas card."
  • "You think these antics would fly at the german club?"
  • "brush your teeth, kid."
  • "Can you hear it? the ocean... it wants blood."
  • "I'm the best damn shot we've got."
  • "You know, when I was a kid, before my dad got hit by that train, he said, '(name) don't let your friends swim out into the ocean and get stranded on the haunted island of camp kill-a-teen.' and here we are... stranded on the... haunted island of camp kill-a-teen..."
  • "that's fair."
  • "hey tweedle-dee and tweedle-dumbass!"
  • "It's fine, baby, if you get scared you can squeeze my hand."
  • "now let's make like scooby-doo and split up to find a clue."
  • "In 1991 a case was discovered where a man had the remains of over fifteen victims hidden in his apartment, over 40% of which were stored within his refrigerator. do you know how unsanitary that is?"
  • "you're so cute when you never shut up. Now shut up."
  • "all hail decision cube!"
  • "that's when you started walking on the wild side, right?"
  • "I AM NOT SOME PETTY CRIMINAL!"
  • "Does anyone want to hear my tragic backstory?"
  • "Bed? But what about possible axe-murderers?"
  • "And we solved the curse of the island, and realized that the real axe murderer was love, all along."
  • "It was a good night for all of us, let's spend more nights in abandoned lighthouses."
  • "That hottie from the track team is here and I wanna ask politely is he wants to get rowdy in the back of my dad's Prius."
  • "YOU CAN'T CATCH ME GAY THOUGHTS"
Lose Yourself // Jeff Atkins

A/N: I know it’s not in order of the prompt list, but this is the one I had inspiration for, and the only one I’ve felt proud of in a while.

Named After:  There’s literally one line in here that made me think “Mom’s spaghetti”


“Best three out of five!” Clay whined.

The two of you had rock, paper, scissored over who was on bathroom duty for the end of both of your shifts. The alternative and clearly better option was working the concession.

“C’mon Jensen, I won twice…” 

You couldn’t hide the grin on your face. You’d lost this game for about two weeks straight between him and Hannah. 

“Out of five.” 

“Out of three. The mop is in the closet.”

Clay rolled his eyes, sighing as he went into the back room. Hannah, on the other hand, was working the ticket booth. A job, the three of you had already pulled straws for. 

You smiled to yourself watching Clay sulk away when you moved behind the counter. 


Ten minutes left in your shift and it was going pretty well, not as busy as it normally was on a Friday night, no screaming middle schoolers, no crying babies, just you, the popcorn machine, and the elderly couples that pulled at your heart strings.

You’d been dating Jeff Atkins for four years before everything went to shit. Before you’d caught him, tongue down some cheerleader’s throat, hand on her ass, touching her like he’d touched you the night before.

The worst part about losing Jeff was that you not only lost your boyfriend. You lost your best friend. You lost the only person in the world who knew you inside out, who knew that you’d once seen Mamma Mia seven times in one week, who knew that your ultimate dream job was to be second string at the World Cup, who knew that when you were angry you were ruthless. 

He tried. He tried calling, texting, tried to catch you at your shifts at work. But you were just as cold as he expected. You blocked his number and changed your whole schedule just to avoid him. 

Truth be told, seeing him with someone else, it broke you. 

You were in love with him. And he chose someone else. 

So you deleted any and all memories of him. Couple photos, trashed. Best friend photos, in a box in the back of your closet. All of his clothing over the years, returned.

It was hard, to say the least. Hard to be so cold to someone who once gave you so much warmth. You’d given up on love ever since.


The buzz of your phone in your back pocket pulled you out of your vacant stare. You glanced around, making sure your supervisor wasn’t anywhere near before checking your text.

Hannah Banana Baker: Head’s up. He who shall not be named in 30 seconds.

Your head shot up from your phone to see the boy standing across from you. 

“Wow… I’m Voldemort now, huh?” Jeff teased, eyes glancing up from your screen as he tried to lighten the mood between the two of you.

He looked…good. Nowhere near as if he’d been crying for two weeks straight like you did. Say something. He was wearing his letterman jacket. The one you considered keeping because it made you feel just as safe as Jeff did. Say something. You could tell he was getting a haircut in a few days. He always let it flop down, covering his forehead, a few days before. Just so he didn't “waste product on hair that was getting cut”. Say something. You always liked it a little better that way. When he didn’t look so perfect. Say something!

A breathy, “Hey.” falls from your lips before you could think of a witty response to his question.

“Hey.” Jeff offers you a sheepish smile, as though to somehow pull attention away from the fact that you hadn’t seen him outside of school, where you avoided him.

“Hey.”

“No yeah, you said that.” he laughs, briefly. His eyes trying to connect with yours.

You glanced over at the girl, the girl, who stole him from you, holding onto his arm, trying to ignore the whole interaction. What did she have that you didn’t? You knew him better than anyone. You were the perfect girlfriend. 

“Y/N?” 

Your eyes snapped back to him and you let out a fake cough.

“Yeah. Hey.”

“I thought we already did that.” 

“Right. Um- what would you like?” you offered, trying to swallow down the golf ball sized lump in your throat. 

You glance away from him, fingernails, nervously, tapping at the glass below.

“I’ll take-”

“Fries and an Arnold Palmer.” you interrupt. “What is she having?” you tilt your head over in her direction.

Jeff’s mouth opens a little bit, and for some stupid reason, he’s surprised you remembered what he liked. He thought you’d deleted everything about him.

“Y/N WHERE ARE THE-” Clay shouts from across the room, only stopping himself when he sees the baseball player. “Jeff. Hey!”

“What’s up man” Jeff replies casually. As if he wasn’t prolonging the most awkward moment of your life. 

“Nothing, I’m good…Y/N you wanna do out of five?”

For once in your life, you were happy to say that Clay Jensen was not oblivious to feelings. 

You shook your head, determined you could get through this, but offered the boy a smile for being so considerate. 

“Okay…um- gloves?” 

“Top shelf, to the right.”

You turned your attention back to the baseball player who had broken your heart, who was now whispering to his…new girlfriend.

“Babe, you wanna grab us some seats. I’ll just meet you inside?” Jeff asked, more of a forced suggestion than a thoughtful question.

She nods quickly, placing a kiss on his cheek before heading into theater number 3. 

He turns back to you once she’s out of sight, hand running through his already messy hair. 

“Can we talk?” he asked.

Jeff was going out on a limb here. He hadn’t heard from you since you left his stuff on his porch and told him to never talk to you again. For fucks sake, he missed you. He missed you so much it hurt. 

He made a mistake, a huge one. And honestly, the girl, whose name was Alyssa or Alexis, he could never remember, was nothing more than a rebound. 

You sighed, gritting your teeth. “What does she want, Jeff.” 

You didn’t want to talk about it. It had been two months since you’d last talked to him, and now he had you near tears with just his presence. 

Jeff’s fingers gripped the surface between the two of you as he tried to break through the walls you had set up.

“Please. Y/N.” 

His voice broke, mid-sentence, and you wanted nothing more than to hold him and never let go. But you knew better than that. So you huffed, blinking back the tears at the brim of your eyes, and asked him the same question once more. 

“What- What does she want.”

“I want you back.”

You swore your heart stopped beating when you heard those words. It wasn’t fair. He didn’t get to come in here, throw his feelings on the table, and leave you to wipe away at the tears now falling down your face.

You turned away from him, moving to get him the fries he always ordered.

“You’re on a date right now, Jeff, are you fucking kidding me.” 

The three packets of ketchup, landed right next to the box, as you threw them onto the counter.

“I- I know- I just, I haven’t been able to talk to you Y/N. I miss you. I miss you so fucking much and-”

You drowned out the sound of his stupid apology as you filled his cup halfway with ice. The soda machine hummed as you focused on filling his drink exactly the way he used to like it. 60% Lemonade. 40% Iced Tea.

Jeff clenched his jaw, waiting for you to finish before attempting to talk to you again. 

“And- and I just want you in my life again. Girlfriend. Best friend. Mortal Enemy. I’ll take anything. I just want you, need you, to come back.”

You bit your lip, hoping it would stop you from crying as hard as you knew you wanted to. You placed his drink on the counter and moved to fill a medium bag of popcorn for his date, Alyssa Callahan. You may or may not have stalked her after the rumor spread around school that they were hooking up.

“I miss my girlfriend who would always play at least one NSYNC song when she had control of the aux cord. I miss the best friend that stayed up with me to help me study. Even though you had a test too. I miss you. I do.” Jeff cried out. 

His palms are sweaty. Jeff never had to beg for a girl’s attention in his entire life. But now? Now he’d do anything to have you even just say ‘hi’ in the hallways. He knows it sounds stupid. He knows he’s an asshole for saying all this while you were at work and he was on a date. But this is his one shot, one opportunity, and he was going to take it.

You slammed the bag down, popcorn tumbling down the sides of the bag as you moved to get her a drink. She seemed like a lemonade type of girl. 

Answer me, Y/N.” Jeff pleaded, ignoring how desperate he felt. 

You placed a cap on her drink and moved it with the rest of the food before looking back up at him.

“You know what I miss, Jeff?” you asked, punching a few buttons at the cash register. 

“I miss. The boy that told me-” you stopped yourself mid-sentence, letting the tears fall freely from your eyes as you pulled a twenty out of your pocket. 

“I miss the boy that told me he loved me…” 

You placed the cash into the register, slamming it shut with a bang. 

“And told me- he would never hurt me.” 

The receipt tore from the machine and crumbled within the fist your hand made. 

“But. Obviously. That’s not you.”

It swished in the trashcan below you, and you shoved everything a few inches closer to Jeff.

Jeff was looking at you, as distressed as you were the day after your break up. His eyes were glazed with tears that had yet to fall, Adam’s apple bobbed as he restrained himself from responding. He picked up everything you’d placed in front of him one at a time. 

“It’s on the house. Enjoy your movie” you emphasize with a forced smile. 

Jeff turns, nodding, knowing that he lost you and enters into the theater. 

It isn’t until you can’t see him, that you walk yourself to the bathroom, lock yourself in a stall, and fall to your knees. Letting out the sobs that were scratching at the back of your throat until your shift ended. 

8

❄️ The Hero and the Fairy ❄️ ~ step-by-step process of >this< piece (^   v ^) <3 click through for minor captions!

as you click through these i’m sure you’ll notice that there’s some pretty big jumps in process~ (^   v ^);;; but i had to reduce it to eight frames, since that’s the tumblr limit. ALSO! wow! that initial sketch! HAHAHA!!! it sure came a long way for there! LOL! LOL! LOL! for those who didn’t see my comments on the initial post, i originally started this piece back in December! X3 so my work has changed a lot since then! five months is a pretty big time jump when you’re constantly drawing! lol lol lol~!!!!

i both loved and loathed the process of drawing all the crystals for this! <3 i really learned a lot through the trial and error of making them! (-^ ___^-) i didn’t push them very far in terms of the coloring i ended up using on them, but i hope to apply what i learned (and take it further) in an up coming BnHA piece! in the end, i am so happy that people seem to be enjoying this one, because i really felt too strongly about the design to let it waste away in my “to-do” file!

anonymous asked:

*curtsies* Duke, I need some help here. Just noticed that I have a huge lack on my character creation. I only write the "warmey hearted and happy" characters. How can I... "fix" that? I have interest in writing different characters but... I just... can't. It's like I didn't understand them enough. How do I write a cold and calculist character? Without making it either a "happey heart" or unrealist, or even the "completly feelingless stereotype"? Please help me!!! I have no idea of what to do!!!!

*Curtsies* First big rule of writing that Tumblr brainwashes out of people because we tend to balk at anything ‘problematic’: 

You need conflict in fiction. 

If everybody is nice to each other and agrees about everything and never miscommunicates, you don’t have a story. You have slow-burn fluff fic and that’s fine if that’s what you’re trying to write, but if you aren’t, you need to spice things up. You need problems. You need conflict. You need more than one personality type. 

Writing good characters is hard. You are literally inventing a human being from scratch, and that kind of complexity takes months (if not years) of work to create, so that’s the first thing I want to be clear about: 

There are no shortcuts to good character.

Writing is, in every sense, an iceberg type of art form, and what a reader will eventually see on a page is only about 1% of the work you actually have to do to make that 1% worth reading. Character, like plot and setting and everything else in fiction, requires long hard nose-to-the-grindstone hours of work. It also requires research. You can’t skimp on any of this or your characters will come out feeling like paper dolls. 

As for how to actually excavate a character: I’ve talked a lot about this under the character development tag and especially this post here, but here is what I think should be the first step for everyone who’s trying to turn a paper doll into flesh and blood: 

Start with the moment where your character first appears in your story, and work backward through every remotely significant event of their life until you get to their birth.

By ‘every remotely significant event’ I don’t just mean when their mom died or when they lost their virginity. I mean every event that was remotely significant to them, even if it was just getting their braces off or listening to their favorite band for the first time. If you really commit to this, it’s going to raise a lot of questions along the way. How long did they live in Kenosha? Where did she get that dress? Why did her dad lose that job? Who introduced her to that author? Here’s the crucial thing: 

Nothing you learn about a character is insignificant. 

Even if it’s just what their least favorite vegetable is. 99% of this information will not end up in the final manuscript, and that’s fine. What’s important is that you know it, because a character (like a real human being) is the sum of their parts, and even their childhood aversion to cooked carrots will contribute to who they become. I recently got a question on my author blog about why I can spit out so many random trivial details about each of my main characters. And the answer is because none of it’s random and none of it’s trivial. If you’re trying to bring a person to life with prose, you can’t afford not to know every little thing about them. Want to know why? 

It is a hell of a lot easier to write a character you know as well as you know yourself than to write a character you only know as a player in your story.

Characters have lives before and beyond the book you’re writing, just like real people have lives before and beyond the moments you interact with them. Our life experiences shape who we are and how we behave, so if you don’t know everything that has occurred in this character’s life prior to this moment, how could you possibly know how they would respond to a question even as simple as “How are you?” So. Spend the time. It will not be time wasted. Writing requires patience. 

Writing also requires research. Because you can’t just write a bunch of characters who are vague avatars for yourself, you will have to venture out of your comfort zone. If you do that thing I suggested where you plot each person’s life all the way back to their birth, you will inevitably stumble across things you don’t fully understand–and that’s where the research comes in. You have a hard time writing cold, calculating characters? Start with the basic questions: Why is this person this way? Coming up empty? Find some real-life examples. If you’re writing a serial killer, go buy every biography of real-life serial killers you can get your hands on. Watch Making a Murderer. Take a criminal psychology class. Writing about a chef? Read chefs’ memoirs. Follow chefs’ blogs. Go to restaurants. Learn to cook. Don’t steal any real person’s personality wholesale, but pay attention to patterns and details so that when you create your own character, they feel real. 

Use the real world for research. Learn from life.

The most important lesson you can learn from life is that very few people can be easily categorized. Most exist somewhere on a moral/behavioral spectrum that doesn’t fit neatly into those Myers-Briggs boxes everyone here on Tumblr loves so much. People are complicated and often conditional. A character who is warm-hearted and loving is much less interesting and much less believable than a character who is warm-hearted and loving but only towards children, because we immediately want to know more about her and why she doesn’t have the same sympathy for people her own age. And let’s be honest: no real person is warm-hearted and loving all the time. Figuring out exactly how this person’s life has gone will help you decide how they behave in any given situation.

We all have quirks and idiosyncrasies and learned behaviors that may, at first glance, defy explanation. We have hopes and fears and secrets and none of that is stuff you’re going to discover by taking another MBTI test on a character’s behalf. Rifle through the stuff of their life until you know not only exactly which magazines are lying under their bed but also why they have five credit cards they aren’t telling their wife about. When it comes to character, you can never know enough, even though writing in broad strokes might look a lot easier at the outset. Nothing about writing is easy, characters included.

People are messy. Resist the urge to simplify them.

Put the work in. I promise you, doing the digging and the research and learning who a person is before you try to put them on paper will make every word you write about them come more naturally and make more sense. And though a reader may never see those notebooks crammed full of every minute thing you learned about their life, they can intrinsically tell the difference between paper dolls and characters who are three-dimensional and fully formed and have been turned inside out by their author. 

Really all this advice comes down to one thing, which is that you can’t half-ass character. You’re creating a person. 

Commit.

shanti-o  asked:

i usually hate these posts, because i get it, my birthday is special to literally no one on the internet but myself, so it's a dumb excuse to ask for shit, but, fuck it. it's my birthday and i'm depressed as fuck and college sucks so may i please ask you, my fandom dad, to just tell me about yuuri katsuki, anxious international student who is this close to deciding no, he can't actually do this college overseas thing, and victor nikiforov, who shows him how loved he didn't realize he is?

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SWEET BEAN.  i hope that you feel better throughout the day and that college gets better!! college was totally a void for me; i spent one year getting devastatingly trashed, and another three years Not Sleeping and trying to kill myself with work.  the good times i had in college are definitely punctuated and defined by how hard so much of it was to endure.  i’m rooting for you xx

and as far as anxious internationa studentl yuuri katsuki goes, he lives off of black coffee and spaghetti and basement pizza.  anxious international student yuuri katsuki is not doing great in classes, and maybe he doesn’t belong here, and he’s not the best at making friends, even though his one good friend and roommate, beautiful sunflower international student phichit claims all of the anonymous HEY YOU! shoutouts in the school newspaper talking about Cute Boy Asleep Under Table In Student Union Building or the Hotchkin Hall Hotass are referring to him.  beautiful sunflower international student phichit tries to get him to loosen up and takes him out to a party and gives him two blue pills with little dolphins on them that yuuri chases with a plastic cup of shitty sweet american lager, except instead of getting yuuri to loosen up, he ends up having a panic attack and laying down on the wet, cold concrete of the sidewalk outside just to feel something cool, which is how beautiful TA victor nikiforov finds him.  

it’s really embarrassing to talk to someone like beautiful TA victor nikiforov for the first time while soaked to the bone and rolling your nuts off.  yuuri has one class three days a week where victor helps, and yuuri always sits in the very back behind someone he’s sure stands at a height that makes participation on the school basketball team mandatory.  yuuri katsuki does not dare fly too close to the sun.  (maybe someday, he thinks, when they’re older they’ll both be at a conference together, and victor will recognize him across a crowded hotel lobby.  “you wrote those papers,” victor will say, “years and years ago.  i always drew smiley faces on the top in red marker,” because he does, and yuuri likes to pretend that he doesn’t do that with anyone else’s papers.)

despite what being in close proximity to beautiful TA victor nikiforov does to his heart rate, beautiful TA victor nikiforov manages to talk to him in a calm, engaging and funny way, and lets yuuri word vomit in return, and beautiful TA victor nikiforov eventually escorts yuuri back to the international house off campus.  

it is the next morning that yuuri realizes, with great shame, he must either change his major or leave the school entirely, because he cannot spend any more time in the presence of beautiful TA victor nikiforov.  

he ends up dropping the class and losing the credit.  he just can’t– he can’t go back to that class.  if he stays at this school past the end of the year, he’ll make the credit up somehow.  but right now he just, he can’t.  

it’s two and a half months later when he’s still there for winter break, not wanting to waste money on a flight home.  he’s walking through the slush to get dinner on christmas eve alone.  this is when he runs into beautiful TA victor nikiforov again.

beautiful TA victor nikiforov is very sad that anxious international student yuuri katsuki dropped his class! after yuuri left there was nothing to look forward to between one and three on mondays, wednesdays and thursdays!  why would you abandon me, yuuri? beautiful TA victor nikiforov (call me victor!) says, practically running him over when he sees yuuri across the street.  anxious international student yuuri katsuki doesn’t know what to say, except, “i’m going to get dinner, would you–?”

which is how they end up at a KFC at nine at night on christmas eve.  

“in japan, christmas is a romantic holiday,” yuuri says, realizing out loud.  “a lot of couples come to places like KFC, it just felt–”

“oh, is this a date, yuuri?” victor asks.  his voice sounds teasing, but when yuuri tries to jump up from the table and hide in a trash can, victor grabs his hand and looks him in the eye and it feels very serious.  “it’s okay if it’s a date, yuuri.”

“o-oh?” yuuri says.  

(and then, idk???? idk where i’m going with this.  yuuri does body shots of KFC gravy off of victor in the mens room?  like, why not, right? anyway, i hope you feel better!!) 

Love for the Signs
  • Aries: You try so hard to show your bulletproof vest to the world, but why is it every time they shoot, you bleed? Sweet Aries, you keep tying yourself to the train tracks without telling anyone, but whenever that train comes, your noble heart is crushed under insecurities' wheels. You'd rather watch yourself bleed out than ask from a giving hand. Your heart is too pure and your intentions are too raw to hide from others. Dear Aries, you are worthy of vulnerability. Exposing yourself to others does not and will not make you weak. It can only give you power.
  • Taurus: My sweet, dear Taurus, you are radiant in your glow and the person who ever told you otherwise is a damned liar. You pick their words off of sunflowers and dress yourself in their pedals, but Taurus you must let yourself see the flower as a whole. You sew the vibrant pieces to your heart without realizing that half the flower is already dead and now you are attached to something that no longer has life. You thrive in the grandeur of nature and having death fastened to your insides drains your once fluorescent glow. Something you once thought was so right, is now wrong. Admitting your faults will only let your heart breathe.
  • Gemini: Oh, the vivacity of life you hold within you my exuberant Gemini. You live two lives at once, you're a stimulated bolt of youth while simultaneously being a fallen heart always one finger away from an anxiety attack. Sometimes my dear, we can't see you with your forged facade. Do you even know which face you may wear today? It's an unconscious action, you feel both sides so you are able to be both sides at once and the others call your blasphemies. My dear, stop trying to suppress half of yourself in order to accommodate to their needs. Love both sides, then you may feel whole.
  • Cancer: My darling Cancer, are you still in bed holding your chest waiting for them by your window? You stand at the corner of their hearts holding a sign for hire "needed to be needed, loved to be loved" but didn't anyone ever tell you no one will ever love you as much as you do? If you move your hand from your chest, i promise you darling your heart will not fall, it can only grow. Your empty spots are not fatalistic, they are opportunities to be filled with the daises you picked from your garden. So let go sweet Cancer, let go and let in the fresh air of your beautiful aspirations.
  • Leo: I love to watch you paint as you delicately carve your love into trees you wish to lay under. You dream of peace but only seem to land on a pile of stressful need. Your heart is too big for them my sweet Leo, your heart is too pure and genuine that it often consumes you. They call you prideful but don't they know its because you already gave your heart to them and watched them squeeze its evergreen beauty? Your pride is not bad nor is it rotten or grim, it is an example of your standards. They broke your heart once and you'd be a fool to let them break it twice. Hold your head up high dear Leo, but remember to look down every now and then.
  • Virgo: You order ORDER itself and when it doesn't listen to you, you deteriorate into shambles. All you ever wanted was to help the ones you love, to give guidance for those who can't see past their eyes. Your detailed eye does not go unseen and your hidden heart will not go unfelt. You are the face of sacrifice, genuine in your quest for perfection but you must realize that you do not have to suffer. My sweet Virgo, you've come to know many lovers but have yet to know yourself. The ocean may seem infinite but you are far from the bottom, you may use your thoughts to drown yourself or you may use them to float. Your Mondays handwork with a heart full of integritY, but please my beautiful Virgo, let yourself breathe and enjoy the release of a Friday afternoon.
  • Libra: Dressed in black and red stained lips, you are lady lust herself playing both sides through stolen sips of wine. You hand out pieces of your heart in perfume masked gift baskets and then at night you hold yourself and wonder why you feel so empty. You have an exquisite soul my dear Libra, but you must stop walking around in the graveyards at night, trying to bury your feelings won't keep them from coming back alive. You fell in love with love itself and now the queen of the equilibrium can no longer keep balance. Sweet Libra, you are worthy of a voice but you must first speak to be heard. Stop using others affection for you as a measure of your worthiness, you must sit in silence and wait for what you cannot change.
  • Scorpio: Oh my dear Scorpio, how long has it been since you felt secure? Your jealous rampages are the result of your fractured loyalties and now when you do hold trust they often crush it in your hand and you're left to watch it fall through your fingers. You cannot manipulate another to love you. You are not tongue tied, you are delicately planned words with secret intentions hunting the truth you never wanted to know. My beautiful Scorpio, you must realize when to let yourself be. You haunt yourself with the action of others, but what they did to you does not define you, and it will no longer control you. The clever mind of a Scorpio shall not be wasted on the weak willed.
  • Sagittarius: The adventurous Sagittarius, which walks of life have you danced with today? You sing with the stories of tomorrow and live with the spontaneity of today, but you must realize that life is painted many different tones; it's wingspread freedom, but it's also storms of serious. Honesty is a virtue that we all thank you for, but my dear Sagittarius the integrity of others is not a joke you can recklessly play with. You are the embodiment of optimism cloaked in yesterdays ambition and tomorrows hope, you are beautiful in your wisdom. But life must be taken from all sights, you are the king of experiences, so dearest Sag, let yourself experience your emotions.
  • Capricorn: My dear Capricorn, you are grand in your restless hunger for the mountains peak. Rushing up the mountain side, trying to make it in time for the sunrise where you wish to lay in the hands of another sipping victorious wine. And although that sunrise will be magnificent in it's symbolic accomplishment, you must realize that missing it isn't a catalyst to your defeat. Although achieving hard works ambition is glorious, your hands are now ice and your heart isolated. This fight to the top may be easier alone, but who will hold you at the end? Remember, with every sunrise there is a sunset, both are qual in their beauty.
  • Aquarius: You are a blessing to tiresome routines while dressed in fortified independence. They can call you bundles of hand me down labels, making you a character to fit into their games but you will rebel to the noise and continue your crafts. But you see my sweet Aquarius, being a voice for the good, your beautiful detachment to judgement is also your biggest hamartia. Others are attracted to the impressions you plant and grow attachments while you disengage when you feel restricted. You must realize others do not break from their emotions so easily, your actions often leave scars. Let yourself be sedated by others, having emotions run deep is fatal but my dear Aquarius, you will never feel more alive.
  • Pisces: An extravagant castle, you are the magic that lives in all of us. The purity of your heart whispers divine compassion, constantly giving love to passing creatures. You live with not only your emotions, but you hold the hurt of everyone around you, you feel their tales of travesties. And my dear Pisces, when all you can do is feel floods of yours and others hurricanes, you escape back to your castle with locked gates. But my sweet Pisces, you must understand that you cannot live in that castle, you cannot wash away ruthless pain with sun dried whiskey and vindictive vodka. Your creative soul is magnificent, so never stop drawing your castle, never stop exploring the depths of your imagination, never stop having empathy, but you can't stop living.
shadowhunters as that 70s show quotes
  • jace: I'm what's known as man-pretty
  • clary: Everybody wants their first make-out to be special. Someplace romantic like Ireland, or Disneyworld.
  • alec: Life is too short to spend it with people who annoy you
  • magnus: The beautiful cannot be held responsible for the havoc our looks create
  • isabelle: the sooner you realize I'm a genius, the better off we'll both be.
  • simon: if I were a bird, I'd fly into a ceiling fan
  • luke: Government pawns and missing limbs. That's amore.
  • jocelyn: All families are embarrassing. If they aren't embarrassing they're dead
  • maia: you are about to read a book my foot wrote.. It's called on the road to in your ass
  • raphael: When I die, I want to be buried face down, so that way, whoever doesn't like me can kiss my ass
  • alaric: You should suspend me. I need a vacation.
  • raj: kiss my brown ass!
  • meliorn: Where Zen ends, ass kicking begins
  • sebastian: if you dont get caught, everything's legal
  • lydia: That's your brain trying to comprehend its own stupidity.
  • maryse: Everyone is happy and nobody went to jail. What a waste of time.
  • robert: You know I love my family. But sometimes, I just want to get in my car and run them all over.
  • max: if this is about maturity i want nothing to do with it
  • valentine: I've been working since I was sixteen. I fought in two wars. Hell, I've killed people. I'm not saying that I didn't enjoy it...

anonymous asked:

Hi I'm sorry if this sounds rude but you mentioned your friends are giving up fic writing? And that you came close to.I notice writers get much fewer rebblogs than artists but I didn't know it's that bad. Who are you talking about and do you guys talk about this, like is there a chatroom for writers?

Hi anon! This isn’t rude at all, don’t worry! This is going to be a bit of a long answer, so bear with me :’)

I don’t know if I can mention names here, I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable, so I can’t really give you more details than I already have: I am friends with this person and they probably won’t be writing fanfics anymore.
I can tell you though that I’ve also spent most of the last couple of weeks wondering if there was still a point in posting my writing at all.

The thing is, writers barely get any feedback. Especially ones that aren’t insanely popular. We pour so much of ourselves into our writing, so it’s incredibly discouraging to barely get any comments, kudos, likes or reblogs.

In my personal experience, tumblr is an awful place for writers. I’ve got a decent-sized following on ao3 I think (though I don’t have much to compare to) and even there, with more than 100 people subscribed to me, I only tend to get around… 5 or 6 comments max per fic that are actually reviews (as in, comments with more content than “please update soon” or “this was nice”) - which is already more than I know many of my writer friends get.
On tumblr, I’m lucky if two or three people reblog my work, and that’s exactly the problem: Who’s going to see it if no one reblogs it? Likes are fine and of course I appreciate those, too, but in the bigger picture they’re meaningless.
Once a fic is done, it’s done. It’s out there then, and I can’t keep reblogging my own posts again and again in the hopes that someone will pay attention to them. I get one shot, maybe two if I reblog my fic again for people in other timezones, but that’s pretty much it. I’m not surprised that it’s gotten so frustrating that it makes people want to quit.

…as for your other question - I don’t know if there’s any larger chatroom or space for writers. I know some people have group chats, but it’s mostly a private thing, as far as I know? I’m really not a big name in this fandom so there might be a lot of stuff going on that I don’t know about.

As for me - I just message people a lot, with the tumblr feature, or on skype or snapchat if I know them better. I’m open to any and all conversations (most of mine with other writers started by me yelling at them about how much I love their work ^^), so if you want to talk to me please don’t hesitate to shoot me a message. That’s what they’re for, after all? My ask’s always open, and I don’t mind private messages either.

In any case - there’s quite a few people in my immediate vicinity that I’ve talked to and I consider friends - many of them are writers, some are artists, some do both, some do neither. I talk about this problem (of wanting to write, but barely receiving any feedback, of feeling like we’re wasting our time) to pretty much anyone who will listen, but it’s frustrating because I don’t have the influence to change anything. Of course I’ll try to keep my fellow writers motivated and try to change their minds about giving up, but there’s only so much I can do, and in the end it’s their decision. Most writers I’ve talked to really enjoy writing fanfics, and it takes quite a bit of disappointment to get you to the point where you want to just… stop. So… yes, it’s a big problem.

I’m going to wrap this up now, but… again, I cannot emphasize enough how important comments are to writers. I’ve talked to some people who’ve said they’re not sure if their comments will even make a difference, because they feel they haven’t got anything interesting to say - picture it this way. As a writer, I’m standing on a stage and presenting a thing, and in response, about twenty people give me polite nods (kudos, likes) and four actually start clapping. But there’s like two hundred people (hits) standing in this room, and I kind of feel stupid now.
All comments matter. At this point, they might save you your writers. Because with less and less feedback, there’s less and less incentive to actually post things.

I can’t say much for other fandoms because it’s been a while since I’ve written substantially for anything but Haikyuu, which is still a relatively active fandom? But I get the feeling that’s starting to wear off, too.

Enthusiasm shifts, and I get that. But if you still enjoy an author’s work, please, please, by all means leave them a comment. Otherwise it might be the last work you read from them.

anonymous asked:

Last ep Iris said that she used to think she was the only one who didn't get the Flash, so maybe a fic of Barry showing her just how much of the Flash she gets? :P

omg nonnie, this was probably the most fun I’ve had writing a prompt. Thank you for this AWESOME idea. i reallllly hope you like it. (note – it’s smutty as hell soooo …. YEAH, ENJOY :)

you can also read/save this on AO3.


The thing about words are that they can’t be unsaid; they burrow into the hollow of one’s soul, finding purchase in uncertainty. They twist at and pull and gnarl the strings of it, leaving behind a patchwork web of hurts that just don’t heal right.

Sometimes it feels like the Flash is this guy my boyfriend becomes when he runs off to save other people. Like I’m the only one who doesn’t get the Flash. He felt separate from you.

She’d finished her declaration with the truth — that she loved him, all of him. But there was something … off about Barry, now. Something she couldn’t quite place.

Sure, they were happy enough. Cooking dinners together was still a delight, with him sneaking up behind her to add bits of seasoning or pepper her neck with warm, distracting kisses; their Tuesday movie night was a blast, full of sugar highs from dollar store candy and debates over whether Sam needed to carry Frodo up Mount Doom or not; Wednesday night was full of throaty moans and warm flesh pressed against various surfaces — the kitchen table, couch cushions, cool glass of the patio doors — as Iris’ third orgasm rocked through her, spiraling around Barry’s needy thrusting and harsh breathing.

She’d never known this kind of blissful happiness. But her earlier words lingered between them somehow; they folded themselves into the way he eyed her, green gaze molten with worry.

So on the night of the annual Central City Charity Gala, Iris thought she might ease the tension by inviting him to paint the town with her.

Keep reading

eritreayunani  asked:

Hey gurl, could we get some headcannons on Sebastian with a mistress? By mistress I mean like the female version of an Earl, so a countess? Their relationship should be like Sebastian and Ciel's: platonic dynamic duo. Hope I didn't confuse you babe xxx thanks in advance!

- Out in public, the two of you don’t really talk to each other because you’re both on a similar wavelength already. You’re out to get your groceries and other odd ends and then you’re off home, no time-wasting.

- When Sebastian is working in the Manor, you tend to be off doing your own thing because Sebastian knows you can look after yourself. You’ve proven it time and again when you’ve sparred against him in self-defence lessons.

- Generally, though, people think that you loathe each other.

- When you’re together, you’re insulting one another flawlessly. Neither of you is ever caught off guard by what the other says, even though each insult is different and worse from the last.

- When you’re apart, you’re doing your own thing and not really paying too much attention to anyone else. 

- So, people are surprised to find out that the two of you are actually very close friends. It’s never gone further than that even though everyone expects it to because you’re comfortable as you are.

- You may be able to defend yourself but that won’t ever stop Sebastian from swooping in to save you if he thinks that you’re in danger.

- He teases you, “My, here I am to save the damsel in distress yet again. Anyone would think that you enjoy being rescued.” As he eyes down the assailant, butter knives in hand.

- “I may be in distress but I am no damsel,” (Meg reference anyone?) “Anyone would think that you enjoy being the saviour.”

- “Naturally.” You can hear Sebastian’s smirk even though his back is to you.

- You get into all sorts of trouble and tight spots together but all in all, you have each other’s back and your bond is stronger than anyone could have predicted.


Black Butler tags: @theoriginalgodsgirlrachel, @ll-kirra-ll, @bingewatchingmylifegoby, @sky-the-llama

Sebastian Michaelis tags: @misfitgirl3390, @liemarce, @hczardousparadox, @maelikimichaelis, @redheadedkillerprincess, @niponmirai02 @artsy-jandi

pepcvina  asked:

I didn't want to request anything since your hands are still full with our trade...but I couldn't help it XD How about an AU with Zen and reader as co-actors? 😅😅❤❤👏👏

Please accept this request as a formal apology for taking so long with my part of our trade. (Okay, no but I really am sorry for the delay “OTL) Thank you for requesting!


It was Zen’s first major role to play in an actual film, and to be frank, he was nervous beyond belief. The actor only started out with small musicals, so acting for the big screen with different environments and sets and cameras everywhere was still a bit new to him. At the same time, however, Zen understood that he was able to climb up all the way here by his hard work and determination, and he felt rather proud about that.

The film was supposed to be a tragic romance fantasy about a human girl who fell in love with her Guardian Angel, while he fell in love with her. The angel knows that the woman’s death was approaching, but he can’t do anything about it, no matter how hard he struggles against fate, and this was the role that Zen was cast for.

“Oh, Zen! Good morning!”

The actor straightens up immediately when he hears your familiar voice greet him, and the young man enthusiastically returns your greeting. You were the shared lead role with Zen, playing as the woman in love with her Guardian Angel. Throughout the time the two of you worked together, Zen found himself becoming close with you. You were a pleasant person to both talk to and work with, and Zen couldn’t deny the way his heart would race whenever he was with you.

“I look forward to working with you today too.” You flash the actor a warm smile, and he practically melts on the spot.

“I am too,” Zen replies, pushing his thoughts away before the two of you go to get ready. He needed to remain professional.

As soon as the cameras start rolling, Zen is no longer Zen but the character he plays as, and he’s no longer just a co-worker to you but as your star-crossed lover. The scene that you and the rest of the cast and crew were filming was the climax of the woman’s and angel’s relationship, the angel coming to terms with the woman’s fate but still wanting to say a proper farewell.

“You mean everything to me,” Zen speaks as his character, the scripted words tumbling out of his lips with ease. He continues going through the lines, your own lines mixed in between, and as the scene continues, Zen’s character starts to become more and more overwhelmed. …And Zen is too.

Somehow, along the way, both Zen’s character and the actor himself slowly started to blend together, and the young man was unable to tell whose heart he was speaking from. Whose feelings he was trying to convey. Zen didn’t know why he did it, but as soon as the actor finishes with his lines, he suddenly cups your face and leans down to kiss you.

Your eyes widen with complete surprise; this wasn’t part of the script. Before you can even react, trying to figure out what the proper response should be to this situation, Zen pulls away from you, still looking at you like his character in love, or could it be…?

“Cut!” The director’s crisp voice rings loudly in the air, and both you and Zen are simultaneously broken out of your thoughts.

It’s obvious from the young man’s expression that he was panicking, although whether it was because he messed up the scene by doing something not on the script or from the action of suddenly kissing you itself, you couldn’t tell. Both you and the actor glance towards the director who doesn’t look upset all. In fact, he looks rather pleased.

“I liked that added kiss at the end. It really ties in the whole scene together. Let’s keep it in.”

Zen immediately goes to try to convince the director otherwise since you had no idea that the young man was ever going to kiss you, and he thought that you would be uncomfortable with having it shown on screen. Before Zen could utter a word though, you interrupt him with a single word. “Okay.”

After filming was over for the day, Zen tries to catch you before you leave. He calls out to you, and you stop in your tracks, tilting your head to the side as curiosity makes its way to your features. Zen gets straight to the point. “I’m sorry for earlier!” He exclaims perhaps a bit too loudly, and his flushed cheeks deepen in shades even more.

“It’s fine,” you reply. “It was just acting.”

The young man shakes his head. “No, that’s the thing. It wasn’t acting. I…I kissed you because I myself wanted to kiss you. Not as the character I was playing as. I’m really sorry!”

You remain quiet for a moment as you process Zen’s words, and the pieces slowly fall into place. Heat rises to your cheeks as you try to explain. “E-Even so, it’s still fine. I…admittedly kind of liked it.”

Zen finally brings his gaze to yours, and since this is how the situation is right now, he decides to just go for it and asks, “I know I skipped all the steps before by kissing you, but I was wondering if…maybe you can give me a chance to start at the beginning and go on a date with me once we’re done filming the movie?”

You respond without wasting a single second. “Yeah, I’d like that.”


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MC Wearing Her Guy's Shirt

Ren

You dug through the clothes drawer. A towel was wrapped around your figure, having just stepped out of the shower. Due to your recently busy schedule, you were behind on laundry. Now you didn’t have any clothes to wear. Dirty clothes weren’t an option. You sighed. Then Ren’s white shirt peeking out of the closet caught your eye. Biting your lip, you decided it was the best choice.
      After tossing the wet clothes into the dryer, you headed off into the kitchen to prepare dinner. Ren’s shirt just barely covered your underwear.
      Dinner was almost finished, when you heard Ren’s voice call out, “I’m home” You panicked. There was no way to get to the bedroom or bathroom without him seeing you. You were trapped. “Something smells good” Ren followed his nose into the kitchen. He froze when he saw you. You felt your face flush. “Is that my shirt?” He asks, pointing to your torso. You jumped to explain the situation. “I was a little behind on laundry and didn’t have anything to wear after taking a shower. I thought I’d wear your shirt until the clothes were done” As if on cue, the dryer went off, signaling the completion of it’s cycle. “I’m okay with it” Ren said. You were surprised at his agreement with your wardrobe choice. You rushed past him, mumbling, “I’m going to go get the clothes” Ren grabbed your wrist. “Wait” He said. He leaned closer and whispered in your ear. “You should wear my shirt more often. It looks good” He pulled back. “I’ll let you finish the laundry” He said. Ren went back into the kitchen with an almost seductive smile on his face. You knew your cheeks were still bright red and went to get the now dry clothes.

Yuta

A month. He had been gone for a month. The new show Yuta booked took him off on location. You had missed him from the first day he was gone. Having just finished a brief conversation with him, you place your phone on the bedside table. You looked at the photo in a frame. It was you and Yuta smiling and doing peace signs with your fingers. It was taken when you two began the scary wife show. Because it had become such a special memory, Yuta decided to place the picture in a frame. You smile at it. Then you noticed one of Yuta’s hoodies on a hanger. He had left it saying that you could wear it if you get lonely. You thought he was joking, but it was still here after he left, and you knew he was serious. You decided to take him up on that offer. Taking the blue hoodie off the hanger, you slid your arms into the baggy sleeves. It was warm and held Yuta’s scent, which you happily breathed in. You laid down on the bed and pretended that it was your husband holding you. In no time, you drifted off to sleep.
      You were awoken by the feeling of the bed shifting. You drowsily opened your eyes to see Yuta sitting on the edge of the bed, gazing at you lovingly. “Yuta!” You exclaim, sitting up. “Sorry, I must’ve woken you up” He apologized. “Don’t worry about that! Why are you home early?” You ask. “You don’t seem very happy to see me” He pouted. “I’m sorry!” You stand, Yuta following suit, and embraced him. “I’ve missed you” You say into his shoulder. He repeats the same phrase back to you. “I worked really hard and spent extra hours working. And we were able to finish early” He said. “Awww, Yuta” You purred. You squeezed him a bit tighter, filled with gratitude for such a sweet husband. He pulled back and gestured to the hoodie you were wearing, which matched his. “You look so cute in that” He says. No mirror required to know that your cheeks just turned pink. “I should start lending you my hoodies. You look so cute” He flashed you his boyish smile. “I’m not cute” You blush and cross your arms. The sleeves covered your hands when you did that. “You’re just making yourself look cuter” Yuta teased. You gave up and accepted his kiss on your forehead.

Yamato

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, you buttoned up the white shirt Yamato usually wore to bed. You two had gotten into a fight. Yamato’s been sleeping on the couch. Secretly, you missed him. You wished you had apologized right away. Unfortunately, the fight had been going on for a couple days. You two were locked in a cold war. You didn't back down now because then Yamato’s point would be proven, and knowing him, he would hold it over your head for a while. You wanted him to come kiss you, sweep you off your feet and toss you onto the bed. There was no way he’d do that now though. In order to soothe your heart a little, you decided to sleep in one of his nightshirts tonight. After all, there was no way he’d see you. Since this war began, Yamato made it a point to get up first, make breakfast for the two of you, then leave before you awoke. Enveloped in the smooth material, you peeked around the corner to confirm your husband’s unconsciousness, then walked into the bedroom. You slid into bed and did your best to fall asleep.
      It was tough trying to drift off with the man you’d grown so used to sleeping beside gone. The electronic clock read 2:31 am. By now, you were just laying here, eyes closed, waiting for sleep to come. Suddenly, you heard the door open quietly. Assuming it was Yamato, you kept your eyes closed. Light footsteps made their way over to you. They stopped. You felt a hand run through your hair. It was the lightest touch. He was being careful not to wake you. Since you didn’t stir, he must’ve thought you were passed out. “I miss you Pouty” He whispered. You almost opened your eyes at his sentence, but forced them to stay closed. “I want to share a bed again” His hand moved to your cheek. “I want to make up” He withdrew his hand. The footsteps started once more, getting quieter as they walked away from you and out of the bedroom. You heard the door click shut. Immediately, you sat up. He feels the same way you do. You hurried to get out of bed and open the bedroom door. Yamato wasn’t visible. Moving closer toward the living room, you saw the light in the kitchen on and heard water. Running into the room, Yamato was getting a drink of water. He saw you and almost choked on his clear drink. “Pouty!” He exclaimed. “You want to make up?” You ask. His cheeks flushed. “Y-You heard that?!” He asked, to which you nodded. He put down his glass as you walked over to him, embracing him in a hug. “I’ve missed you too” You confess. He wraps his arms around you. That was considered the end to your feud. Although you never did admit he was right. So technically you won…

Saeki

Saeki had been talking about how ‘soft’ and 'light’ his new white shirt was. You decided to try it on to see if this shirt was as great as he made it out to be. After bringing him his usual cup of coffee and making sure he would be busy for a while, you went into the bedroom. Taking the white fabric in hand, you took off your blouse and replaced it with the shirt. Running your hands over the material, you couldn’t deny it was very soft and had a relaxing feel to it.
      You walked around the room, loving how the shirt’s hem swayed around your thighs. The pajama shorts you were wearing barely poked out from the bottom. “Alright, that’s enough” You said to yourself, admitting you’d gotten enough enjoyment out of the shirt. Once the top two buttons we undone, you began undoing the third. Suddenly, the door flew open. “Honey, where’s my…” Saeki stopped when he laid eyes on you. Saeki had gotten you to wear one of his shirts before. To see you do it voluntarily must’ve been a treat for his eyes. “Wow, Honey, are you trying to seduce me?” He smirked, walking closer to you. “N-No! I just wanted to try it on to see if it felt as great as you said it did” You quickly explained. You continued backing up to avoid him until your back hit the wall. Saeki put his hands against it on each side of you, pining you so you were unable to escape. “You look very alluring right now, Honey. This is a good look for you” He says lowly, sending a shiver down your spine. “Um, don’t you have to work on your script?” You said in an attempt you drive him away. He dropped his arms and looked away, pouting. “You’re right. I don’t want to just leave you. It feels like a wasted opportunity” He says. Saeki waited a beat before looking back up at you with that same smirk of his. “I guess you’ll have to come with me” He says, taking your wrist in his grasp. Before you could protest, your husband whisked you away into his study. He had a very hard time focusing on his script after that.

Takao

As you stood there ironing Takao’s shirt that he wore to work, you received a text saying he was on his way home now. You sent a reply then went back to ironing. You couldn’t help but notice the shirt’s crisp feeling. It was warm from the iron. You always thought Takao looked so handsome whenever he wore his suit. The playful part of your mind got the best of you, and you slipped the shirt on over your current top. You walked around the living room, having fun with wearing your husband’s shirt. It was comfortable and you understood how Takao could wear this almost everyday. You, however, hadn’t planned for him to get home so quickly. He walked though the door. “I’m home” He said. While he was taking his shoes off, you tried to unbutton the shirt as fast as you could. Before you could get to the last button, Takao turned and saw you. “You’re wearing my shirt?” He asks. “I-I was just trying it on for a second” You blush as you slide off the blue shirt. “You don’t have to be embarrassed” He said. Looking up, you see your husband’s warm smile. “I have no problem with you wearing my shirt” He walks up to you, casually running a hand though your hair. You felt the heat in your cheeks begin to fade. “You should actually do it more often. You look cute” He says, then walks off into the bedroom to change. As embarrassing as it was, you don’t regret letting your playful side come out.

_____________________________________________________________

Thanks for reading this! Sorry if Takao’s was bad, I wasn’t sure how to portray him in this scenario. And Yamato’s and Yuta’s were a bit long, but I started writing them and couldn’t stop. I like the way theirs turned out. :)

Dauntless: Uh Oh

Eric x OC
​​​Warnings: language, angst

​A/N: why can’t I let go of these characters?

Dauntless (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6,Part 7, ​Part 8​, Part 9​, ​Part 10​, ​Part 11​, ​​​​​​​Part 12​​, Part 13​​, Part 14​​, ​Part 15,​Part 16,   Part 17​, ​Part 18,​Part 19​, Part 20, Part 21)

Dauntless: Jealous Much?

​Dauntless: Competition

​Dauntless: Uh oh

​Dauntless: What Are You Afraid Of? (​Part 1​, ​Part 2​)


I’m scared.
It’s not a word I normally used, I’m Dauntless, I don’t fear anything.

Keep reading

THE OUTLAW’S HANDBOOK: A Guide to Staying Wild Against All Odds
1. Learn, god damn it, and never stop learning. Develop an insatiable hunger for knowledge, different perspectives, for facts and figures but also for piece of beauty that touch some great unnamed force inside of you. (More on that later.) Learn to loathe the idea that you’re being deceived, learn to love the sensation of your assumptions being torn into tiny little pieces. Everything from here on out is pointless if your mind is in chains; besides, a stupid rebel is as good as dead. Pay attention; wildness does not equal thoughtless and impulsive. Question. Think. Wonder. Read. Devour everything they’ve ever told you and tear it all apart looking for the truth.
2. Discover the core of your being and recognize it for the beauty that it is. In all likelihood some part of it will make life more difficult for you, but if you can’t embrace it anyway, you are already a corpse walking. Sometimes, late at night, or maybe just during a passing daytime moment, you will realize that how you act is not who you truly are. This is terrifying; your authentic self has the capability to decimate your ability to coast along through life doing as you’re told and being who you’re expected to be. If you let it have its way with you it can tear you to pieces, rip away everything you thought you knew about the world.
3. Let it.
4. Listen, “normal” is just another word for “coward” there isn’t a  soul on this planet who truly is who they’re told they should be. Wherever you’re born, you’re assigned a role and you playact as best you can -those who forget their lines are pariahs. Those who point out the script are revolutionaries. Those who follow it to a letter have lost their humanity. But remember, no one really belongs there. Everybody is weird. You are not alone.
5. When you’re ready, come out of hiding. You can do it little by little if you want. Disagree, talk back, be strange. Make your own costume, write your own dialogue, throw in some improv. If you’re not being heckled, you’re not doing it right.
6. Embrace the stares, the awkward silence, the nervous laughter of people around you -the dead walking, they who sleep without dreaming, who live their lives in perpetual fear of an imaginary threat but will call you the lunatic- no matter how painful it may be. Eventually you will become something that they can’t control no matter how much they whisper and scorn.
7. Run. Listen to that quiet insistent hum in the back of your mind that you’ve been repressing for so long you forgot it was there, and run away from all of this. Get out into the wilderness, run through the hills, get scratched up, get dirty. If you climb a tall hill and look down at the ground around you, the sight is yours. If you fall down and scrape your knee, the blood, the pain is yours. No one told you you may leave your tracks in the mud or drip your sweat on the thirsty ground or scream into the trees with no one around the hear you. You have to only answer to yourself and the laws of nature for all that you do. Out here you understand: you can do anything your body and mind allows.
8. When you’re ready, return to us. Come back to civilization, the land of do-as-you’re-told. Know that, despite what we all say, you own yourself here as much as you do by yourself in the woods. People will tell you you don’t -that just for existing, you owe them work, taxes, obedience. You must fit yourself into the mold they’ve assigned you, squeeze and force yourself smaller, larger, or thinner; cut off the pieces that don’t fit, build fake prosthetics to fill in the spaces your soul won’t -and if at the end you feel more constructed than human, well, that’s just too bad, isn’t it? How dare you exist as a being your own shape and size and form when they need you to be only one thing, one easily-manageable and predictable worker, voter and taxpayer who believes what they’re told and never steps out of line, has their lines memorized to a T and is petrified they’ll be found out for the parts of them that are only a mask.
9. It’s too late. You know better now; you’ve tasted freedom, and you can never go back. You can never wear your mask as well as someone whose skin has never met fresh air. You can never say your lines as well as someone who is still terrified of being wrong. You will never belong to anyone but yourself, ever again, no matter what they say.
10. And oh, they will say so much. They will call you criminal, degenerate, loser, trash, waste of space. They will hate you for  being living evidence that all the sacrifices they’ve made in the name of winning this vicious little game were not, in the end, necessary. The confined cannot abide the existence of the free; they will hunt you to the ends of the earth.
11. Run, again. Run because you have to, because it’s your only option, because that’s what you’ve become: a lone renegade fleeing from the wasteland that civilization has become. Men armed with badges and guns kill the defenseless; the sick and needy are left to suffer because they didn’t buy insurance; people starve while others hoard more than anyone could ever conceivably spend; rich countries refuse to give asylum to immigrants from less fortunate backgrounds; people work their lives away just for the privilege of staying alive; we hate each other for arbitrary reasons and deny that it is happening at all; and all of this, we’re told, is the best way things could ever possibly be. We’re told to celebrate deaths on some other continent, we’re told that history shows we are the best that our species has to offer. It’s all a sick joke and the punchline is that you once thought this was an acceptable way to live. The play you’re in is a vicious one and you can’t stomach your lines anymore. You run and you run and you run.
12. Mourn for the death of who you once were. So what if you sometimes had a stabbing, longing feeling that there was something monumental and vital out there that you had lost, that you desperately needed back? So what if you always had a vague sense that something was missing, that you were stunted in some way? At least you felt content. At least you felt safe. Now you can never feel safe in this world again.
13. Get angry at us, at all of us. Even if we weren’t the ones running the show, we went along with it, didn’t we? We let it happen, didn’t we? All of the horror and hatred, the violence and poverty and evil in the world -we just sat by and let it happen. It’s a world gone mad, you decide, a world full of selfish assholes who want nothing more than to sit around and eat fast food and watch the damn TV. Well, fine. Let us have our ivory towers. You want no part of it, no part of us.
14.
15.
16.
17. Remember when you used to be so afraid of the dark? Of outside, of the unknown? Remember when to be Other was a fate worse than death? It’s hard to imagine feeling that way now. It’s like the whole world happened to a different person -you aren’t the same you who sat around and idly and killed time, always preparing, always waiting for something that never quite arrived. You’re different now.
18. Breathe in deeply and smell the pine trees, the smoke of a campfire, the night sky. You look up into a starry night, an endless and beautiful universe full of endless and beautiful wonders. Maybe even other living, breathing, thinking beings, somewhere out there, waiting for a chance to say hello. It really is, you decide, a beautiful world.
19. Forgive us. We’re all just doing our best, doing what we were taught was right. We all feel that same aching longing that you once did. We just need a little help to learn what it means -a little help from someone who’s been there, someone who has had the courage to disagree with what the world told them they were.
20. When you’re ready, come back home. We miss you, we need you. Come back home.
— 

Run boy run! This race is a prophecy
Run boy run! Break out from society
(x)

For Set, Loki, and Dionysus.

The Snape Dialogues: Our New Celebrity
  • Time: Harry's first year, after that first Potions class before dinner
  • Place: Gryffindor common room
  • Students: Harry, Ron and Hermione sit around a square, low table where they are doing their homework - Hermione is studious but Harry is brooding, and Ron is doodling
  • Hermione: You've been studying the flames in the fire forever, Harry. What are you thinking of?
  • Harry: Potions.
  • Ron: *looks up* Snape hates you mate.
  • Hermione: *indignant* He does not, Ron!
  • Ron: Yes he does, Hermione. He was picking on Harry all through class and if looks could... *Harry is standing, stares a bit more in decision* Harry?
  • Harry: I have to go talk to Professor Snape. I'll meet you later at dinner. *before Ron can stop him or Hermione can protest he has gone through the portrait door, and vanished*
  • Place: Down in the dungeons, Professor Snape's Office.
  • Snape: *glances up from his paperwork as there is a knock on his door* Come. *as the door opens he is surprised to see that annoying first year Gryffindor that has plagued his thoughts since the boy's impending arrival* Potter...
  • Harry: I'm sorry to bother you, Professor Snape, but I think we need to talk.
  • Snape: *points to one of two ladder-back wooden chairs in front of his desk - Harry sits then squirms to find a comfortable place* Stop fidgeting, Potter. That chair offers no comfort to my visitors. Now, why have you interrupted me?
  • Harry: *hesitates as he clasps his fingers tautly in his lap* I'm not a bad student, Professor Snape. *the older wizard does not answer other than a raised eyebrow which tells Harry his teacher does not believe him* I know I couldn't answer anything in class but... *lifts his book bag to his lap and starts rummaging around in it then takes out his Potions notebook - he pushes it across the desk* First page, Sir. It's new.... uhm... please look?
  • Snape: *picks up the notebook and flips the cover to reveal the first page - Harry has written upon it with somewhat blotchy letters but a steady hand* That is my speech word for word. Did someone write this down for you, Potter?
  • Harry: *sighs and shakes his head* No, Sir, that's my writing. Your speech was brilliant and I wanted to remember it.
  • Snape: Indeed. *closes the notebook and puts it down upon the surface of his desk* Then perhaps you will enlighten me as to why you had not read the first chapter of today's lesson.
  • Harry: *hesitates and shifts even though nothing can make him feel comfortable - the Potions Master simply waits - finally he speaks in a soft voice* My... wouldn't... read...
  • Snape: *scowls* Potter, speak up or I will send you away for wasting my time.
  • Harry: *nods nervously, then blurts* My Uncle wouldn't let me read any of my textbooks. He locked them in the basement after I came home from Diagon Alley.
  • Snape: That sounds a bit extreme. Were you being punished for some infraction, Potter.
  • Harry: *knows that his teacher is thinking the worst of him* Always, Professor Snape. My relatives don't like me and they like magic even less. Headmaster Dumbledore sent my aunt and uncle a note with my letter telling them I had to go but they still tried to stop that from happening.
  • Snape: *leans forward and puts his elbows upon the surface of his desk - he is intrigued, now* Tell me, Mr. Potter, of the day Hagrid was sent to fetch you to take you to Diagon Alley.
  • Harry: *shifts again, coughs once nervously, and is surprised to find a glass of water hovering in front of him - he takes it and drinks* Thank you, Sir. *a wave of his teacher's hand and the water is Vanished* Well, when the first letter for me showed up by owl my Uncle burned it. It just kind of exploded at that point. By the end of the day there were lots of owls outside the house and letters were exploding through the windows and down the chimney. My uncle grabbed me and my cousin and we got in the car where Uncle Vernon drove us all the way to the ocean and rented us a tiny cabin practically out in the ocean. Aunt Petunia was sure no one would find us and my cousin and I were sent to bed. *he drew in a deep breath and then related how he woke at midnight to celebrate his birthday and then Hagrid arrived, yelled at his aunt and uncle, gave Dudley a pigtail, and took him away to London* Diagon Alley was just brilliant, Sir! *he smiles*
  • Snape: For any first year, be they Muggle-born or wizard-born it is a truly magical sight, Mr. Potter. Now, relate to me what happened when you returned home.
  • Harry: *sighs knowing he would have to reveal things he didn't even want to think about* Uncle Vernon locked me in my cupboard and locked my new trunk and all of my stuff in the basement. Hedwig, my owl, got away and I think she flew to Hogwarts. So, you see I would have read all of my textbooks just like Hermione did but... I couldn't.
  • Snape: You had a few hours before classes began today, Mr. Potter. Why did you not read anything in that time?
  • Harry: *fidgeting once more* I don't want to get my new friend in trouble.
  • Snape: *sits back and unclasps his hands* Then, there is no more to say, Potter...
  • Harry: *grimaces* Fine! All right... I was going to read some of my textbooks and Hermione even suggested I could read with her but Ron took my books and hid them and told me we didn't have to do anything until we got homework. Please don't punish Ron, Sir, he'll stop being my friend.
  • Snape: *peers at the boy* And, that is important to you, is it not? Having your friends. *Harry nods miserably - sure that Ron will never be friends with him again* Technically, your friend is correct in that you really need not do anything before the formal start of term. *leans slightly forward* However, we teachers suggest that you prepare for classes before term starts which is one of the reasons we send your letters a month in advance of the term's start. *Harry is about to interrupt but his teacher holds up his hand* Yes, Mr. Potter, I do understand that your guardians were averse to you even having your Hogwarts things near. And, I should like to understand more about this 'cupboard' of yours.
  • Harry: *looks down at clasped hands* Uhm... you heard me say that out loud, huh?
  • Snape: *smirks* My hearing is quite good, Mr. Potter. The 'cupboard' issue aside for now, allow me to ask you this... if you liked my speech before class, what did you hope Potions would be like before you attended.
  • Harry: *brightens* Well, that's real magic, isn't it? Hermione told me that Potions isn't just stirring a bunch of ingredients together. It's using your own magic to make the potion what it is. I told her it was like the Chemistry I saw on television. It's science. It's discovering how to make neat things to help others. *deflates visibly* It... uhm... sorta doesn't seem that way now.
  • Snape: *rises from his desk* Follow me, Mr. Potter.
  • Harry: *obediently and curiously follows his teacher through an inner door to the Potions classroom - the Potions Master indicates to the Boy-Who-Lived to sit at his work table while he Summons a book from his desk* This is Daimon Grayling's Book of Potions. It contains recipes for a variety of potions I use beyond the textbooks in all of my classes. I should like you to turn to page 94, Mr. Potter.
  • Harry: *takes the book, notes that it is stained and well-worn, and then he turns to the requested page* Hush-A-Bye Elixir. It sounds pretty. What does it do?
  • Snape: It was created by a young Hogwarts student for her NEWTs in 1977 and it is intended to be a gentle sleep aid for colicky babies. I would like for you to brew it, perfectly, without my input. All the ingredients are in the cabinet and the recipe details precisely what you need to do as you are brewing. I have lesson plans to go over so I will be at my desk. Only call upon me if you are in serious need of help. Begin, Mr. Potter.
  • Harry: *watches as the professor leaves his side so he reads the recipe, picks up the book, and gathers the ingredients he will need - soon he is brewing*
  • Time: An Hour later
  • Harry: *a smile fills his face as his potion fades from a muddy blue to a soft - pillowy - blue*
  • Snape: Very good, Mr. Potter.
  • Harry: *his head jerks up - he was not expecting his teacher behind him* I did it, Professor Snape.
  • Snape: *actually smiles - sort of* Indeed, Mr. Potter. You did acceptably well.
  • Harry: *beams and looks at his potion* Thank you, Sir. Uhm... Professor? I know I've never heard of her but who was it that created this potion?
  • Snape: *sighs wistfully* A very talented potions student, Mr. Potter. Her name was Lily Evans. *Harry's jaw drops, and his teacher stretches out a finger to tap the boy's mouth closed* Your mother, Mr. Potter. *he hands the happily shocked student a note and Harry takes it slowly* You have missed dinner. This gives you permission to receive your meal in your common room. Clean up and then you are dismissed, Mr. Potter. *returns to his desk*
  • Harry: *quickly cleans his work table and then bottles the potion then takes it to his teacher* Can anyone use this potion, Professor Snape?
  • Snape: *takes the large bottle* I will put the Hush-A-Bye into single dose ampoules which I will send to Slug & Jiggers in your name. That should provide you with a tidy allowance for whatever you wish to use the gold for.
  • Harry: *beyond over-joyed* Thank you, Sir. Uhm... yeah... really... thank you! *turns and trots to the door of the classroom but then he stops, turns, and turns a serious expression upon his face* You aren't going to change towards me in class and stuff, aren't you, Professor?
  • Snape: *shakes his head slowly* I cannot change, Mr. Potter. However, you are invited to bring questions and concerns to me before dinner. Use a Disillusionment Charm, though, and no one shall ever know.
  • Harry: *nods - and then leaves*
  • Snape: *studies the potion then looks towards the closed door* I will know about your 'cupboard' next time, Mr. Potter.
Allison and Neil BFF AU

(Is this technically an AU because they’re low key bffs in canon tbh???) 
Sorry this will be an exceedingly long post and I’m on mobile and I can’t do a read more/ I don’t know how??? So I apologize in advance but this HAD to be posted

• so imagine Neil ends up in Phoenix instead of Millport 


• and Allison lives in a much too big house by herself because fuck her parents she doesn’t WANT what they are giving her, so she leaves 


•and they’re both in high school, because what’s a canon timeline, and Allison is about to be a senior and Neil is a little sophomore with a lot of trust issues.

• he doesn’t plan on staying but it’s not like he even knows where to go after this, his mom is dead and he’s on his own so he just doesn’t really KNOW what to do with himself

• and he plays exy because it’s the only thing that makes him feel real

• and that’s how he meets Allison

• She has a thing for strays and sad looking boys with too many scars and she’s super fond of Neil even though he wants nothing to do with her

• and she just keeps bothering him because he’s small and sad looking and she wants to cut his hair because it’s horrible and clean his face because, seriously have you EVER taken care of yourself

• Neil finally gives in and hangs out with her because she’s pushy and maybe she will leave him alone after

• they eat Chinese food and watch a movie in her too big house and Neil can’t help but be anxious and angsty

• it continues where Allison is basically bullying little Neil to hang out with her because tough love™

• after a couple of months he just accepts it, he’s not going to stay anyway why does it matter?

• turns out it does matter because Allison won’t let him leave even if he WANTED TO

• he tries one night after the last game of the year but she won’t let him, in fact she won’t leave him alone at all

• she keeps following him all night and he doesn’t find it as annoying as he should
• he decides it wouldn’t really be too bad to stay for another couple of months so he does.
• the summer would have been boring if it wasn’t for Allison dragging him across Arizona
• they go sight seeing and stay in way too expensive hotels, because she LOVES wasting her parents money
• and one night when they’re near the border of California Neil finally opens up a little bit
• nothing in grave detail because they’re not on that level but he trusts her enough that he tells her his mom is dead and his dad is looking for him
• he tells her he might leave and she looks so MAD
• because screw you neil josten you’re staying here with ME and there is nothing you can do about it
• when they finally make it back to Phoenix she tells him he can stay with her whenever he wants
• it becomes a normal thing, Allison will leave the back door unlocked so he can come in whenever he wants and she has the second bedroom done so he can sleep there comfortably
•. She even puts a lock on his door because she KNOWS him and he’s low key happy about it
• they cook together and sometimes they go on trips to other places
• Neil doesn’t want to ever step foot in California, so Allison takes him to other places like Utah, Nevada, Colorado, New Mexico
• she wanted to go to Mexico for a week one summer but she was low key worried about taking Neil out of the country
• what if he doesn’t come back??? Was her biggest fear
• he does leave one night and Allison tries not to worry because he does this sometimes
• he will disappear after practice and not come home until the wee hours of the morning
• so she’s TRYING not to worry but this is Neil commitment issues Josten™
• plus something just doesn’t feel right
• so she waits up all night and when he doesn’t come home she goes to look for him
• she finds him at a bus station with his duffel bag, looking defeated
• and she doesn’t mean to cry but she does
• and Neil’s just as much a mess, he doesn’t know why he couldn’t just LEAVE
• he’s afraid she’ll get hurt if he stays but she’s the closest thing to a family he will ever have
• he doesn’t try to leave again after that
• Allison doesn’t make Neil a key because she knows him better than anyone, maybe more than he knows himself, and she knows that if he has one he will freak out and leave again
• because keys mean he has a place that he can call home and keys are permanent and real
• so she just keeps the doors unlocked when she’s home and if she isn’t she leaves a window unlatched
• because god forbid she accidentally leaves everything locked and he has to break a window to get in, she would KILL HIM
• during her senior year Allison starts vlogging
• soon she’s too popular for her own good and it scares Neil because what if the world sees him??! What if his Dad’s people catch sight of him????
• Allison knows better than to let him get caught so she never says his real name or shows his face on camera
• but boy do people love stories about her nameless roommate
• “he’s an idiot. The other day he tripped on nothing and told me the world was ending when he hit his knee on the banister. But the one time he got hit by a car and was bleeding out he was ‘fine’ he is the most dramatic piece of shit”
• everyone knows she loves him anyway
• when Allison graduated Neil expects her to leave but she doesn’t.
• she stays in the house with him and he doesn’t ask her why because he low key finds it nice
• he keeps playing exy until his senior year and Allison is like a proud mom
• when wymack, Andrew, and Kevin show up to recruit him he thinks he might throw up
• Allison comes into the locker room and has this LOOK on her face and Neil might kill her
• Wymack had tried to recruit her when she was a senior but there was NO WAY she would leave Neil alone in Phoenix with out her
• so she told him to come back in 2 years because he could have a two for one and it would definitely be worth it
• wymack sees what she meant after he watched Neil play
• Allison just crosses her arms and watches with amusement as they try to convince Neil to sign with the foxes
• he looks at her like a deer caught in headlights because, he can’t school his face around her, he needs her help, he can’t just LEAVE her here????
• and Allison just says “it’s okay I’m coming too.”
• and that’s how they both end up on the foxes court the next year (and for the next 5 years)