and that that means they will never be alone

anonymous asked:

I had this sudden idea , i dont really headcanon it but it seemed interesting to me , what if lance is adopted, its not really likely but maybe thats why he cherishes his family, i mean its not likely but it seems interesting,

[fandom exists to enjoy things - seriously, it doesn’t matter how likely an idea is to be canon, you are here to explore things and play with the characters you’ve come to know and love. so never hesitate to send us an ask, no matter how (un)likely it seems to be, we’re open for everything^^]

MOVING ON TO THE ACTUAL ASK,,,, THIS BREAKS MY HEART??? WOW. W O W.

Imagine tiny, 3 years old Lance in an orphanage with next to no memories of his real parents. And he’s getting along fine with the other kids, he isn’t the most popular but not the most unpopular either, but he doesn’t have real friends. Sure, there is always someone to hang out and have fun with, but no one he can come to when he’s crying over the hurt bird he found in the backyard. Crying is looked down upon - everyone has a hard life, so what business does he have crying about anything? Learn to grow up.

So young Lance learns. He learns to smile and tease and be happy and outgoing. He learns to be confident and radiate positive energy because that’s what makes people want to stick around. When he is 7 years old, he knows how to be a “cool kid”.

A year later he gets put into a foster family. A foster family with lots of other children, all older than him. They are happy and outgoing and touchy and love to hang out with him. 

[Once, just once he tested how far this love would go: he pretended to have a stomachache. His foster parents were so worried for him that they forbade him to go to school, his siblings brought him crackers and kept him company in his room while he ‘rested to get better’. His grandma went out and bought new medicine, ‘just in case it might get worse’. For Lance, it was heaven - he thought that these people might really become “family”. People that maybe, one day, he could share secrets with and depend on.]

The first time he cries is when he gets adopted into the family. He is 10 years old then; he is 10 years old and loved and knows that these people want him. 

When his family sees him crying, their reaction is not the friendly teasing he anticipates. It’s shocked faces and hugs and reassurances and, finally, laughter when he admits that he is just so happy that he couldn’t help himself. He gets his hair ruffled and arms arounds his shoulders - and when they take their picture with a “612 days in foster care: now we are one family” shield held up by him and his siblings, he later discovers that he wasn’t the only one that had tears in his eyes.

They move to the US. The first months are harsh; he has learned some English in school but it wasn’t nearly enough to keep up with the kids over here. And the first time he cries because of insults getting hurled his way, his mother comes and envelops him in a hug.

A hug.

No one laughs about his tears anymore. No one puts their image above anyone’s feelings and for the first time Lance really understands what it means to have a family. He vows to protect them all and help them in any way he can. He cooks with his mom; he talks about planes with his dad; he knits with his grandma; he does face masks with his sister; he learns how to play soccer with his brother. Once a week, they all go swimming together - they all miss the ocean. They all miss their home in Cuba.

When a few years later the topic of adoption comes up again, Lance is the first one to say “yes”. His parents look at him in surprise and for the first time ever he really tells everyone how much becoming part of their family means to him. It’s an emotional event and more than one of them ends up crying. But it’s okay: it’s okay because crying is not a bad thing here, they are family, they are each other’s support, they have hugs and shoulder pats and cuddle piles. It’s okay.

A few months later, they adopt two new children. Lance is happy and proud and makes sure to be the best big brother anyone could ever ask for. He teaches them how to tie their shoes, how to sneak out of the house, how to whistle and how to properly throw a ball. 

Not even a month later, he goes on a school trip to a planetarium. It’s when he realizes that he wants to become a pilot - he wants to reach for the stars. He wants to fly and reach for the stars and be free of judgement. He wants to fly and have a home to come back to.

When he excitedly tells his family about it, they cheer for him and support him. They help him look for programs to get into flight schools, his father lends him all the plane magazines he has, they buy glow-in-the-dark paint and paint his bedroom ceiling. They help him with his grades to get him into the Garrison flight program and when he gets accepted, they have a huge celebration party in his honor.

He never forgets the picture they made at the airport, all together, waving him goodbye.

[He misses their hugs.]

[He misses their hugs just like he misses the ocean.]

[He misses their hugs, he misses the ocean, he misses home - but over time he comes to realize that he has found a new family. A smaller one than before but one that’s just as lively, just as fun. He still misses them, of course; but this new family makes the distance between them much more bearable.]


-mod: happylance

anonymous asked:

It's not okay. None of this is okay. Having no friends is not okay. Having no experience of being in a relationship when you're nearly 25 years old is not okay. Watching life pass you by whilst you're in your room on the two days you get to be off in the week just crying all fucking day because you have no social life or anything interest to do is not okay. It gets tiring to wait for things to get better when nothing actually changes and all you've got is your.... emptiness

Hi, 
Thank you for reaching out to me and being brave enough to share a little bit about who you are and your struggles. Never underestimate the power of making yourself vulnerable and being honest with what you face. You never know who you could inspire by making someone else feel a little less alone in their own battles. 
Finding purpose and finding meaning in your life isn’t easy. Finding your “reason why” is damn near the most difficult question you will ever have to answer in life. In your specific situation I see a pattern. I’m only getting a single shade of your complex life, but in this shade I see someone that craves more. Someone that wants more. You have the introspection and emotional intelligence to be honest with who you are and tell yourself that you want to reach higher than you are. Being unsatisfied is often the first step to creating something truly great, or embarking on a remarkable mission; whatever that may mean to you. 
There is something that is keeping you from reaching this potential. As humans, we instinctively compare ourselves to others. We use our peers as a benchmark for our own success. It’s a more than a common practice, however it is grossly inappropriate to use another person to measure your worth and gauge your success as a person. You see, people are infinitely different.
I remember in high school, I felt so self conscious for not ever having kissed someone. And it wasn’t until my senior year that my lips ever touched another person’s. That’s enough for any one of my classmates to qualify me as prude and relentlessly poke fun at me. But it was me. I was just different. I still am. 
As are you. 
You are different and are on your own path. This is your life and it is and will only be what you make it. This is beautiful because it gives you the power to be and do anything you want. But it is you who needs to be the one to make the change in your life. It will be you that has to search yourself to find what it is that makes you happy. If you do not know, it is on you to search and build the courage to put yourself out there and try the things you never thought you would so you can find something you never thought you’d have. These are not easy things to do, but these are things you must be willing to try. 
Pursue life and invest in yourself. I promise, no stock or mutual fund portfolio will give you as high of a return on investment as the time and energy you put into yourself. 
xoxo,
Cwote

The Right One

Well this is something I thought I would never do, write my own fic but here it is. Trust me, it’s a lot harder than you think and without the help of 3 special people, I don’t think I could have done it alone.

Firstly, I need to thank @thegirlfromoverthepond for her understanding and friendship. You are truly one lovely human being.

Secondly, my story would be nothing without my mentor and beta @finnicko-loves-anniec. Thank you for your patience and brilliant beta-skills. I really hit the jackpot with you as my mentor.  

And thirdly (and by no means lastly), @drivebyanon. Thank you for your never-ending support and encouragement throughout this whole journey, even when I wanted to give up. You were my very own cheer squad when I needed it the most so I’m dedicating this story to you.

Sorry, there’s no smut here. I’m still in the ‘pre-school’ stage but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

SUMMARY

‘we don’t meet people by accident, they are meant to cross our path for a reason,’ Rubyanne

Peeta didn’t know her name or even if she was real. All he knew is that he had to paint her image and hope that destiny would allow them to one day cross paths.

THE RIGHT ONE

“Well, thank you for applying. I do have a few other applicants to see, and I’ll be in touch if I need more information about your application,” Peeta said to yet another hopeful single young lady wanting to work at his bakery. It was becoming a joke between many of the other store keepers. They all knew why these girls were so interested in working at the bakery with Peeta. Ever since his father passed away almost one year ago, Peeta had been working around the clock to keep the bakery going and adding a few of his new ideas to make the bakery even more profitable than it already was. As a wealthy young bachelor, Peeta was finding it hard to find the ‘right one’. Obviously in another vain attempt to seduce Peeta, the young girl shamelessly fluttered her eyelashes and giggled whilst stepping closer, proudly showing off the low neckline of her dress that left nothing to the imagination.

“Thank you Peeta, it was nice to see you again after all this time. I’ll wait for your call. Don’t be a stranger, okay.” No, Peeta would not be calling her.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I've seen several people say that rewriting is completely necessary, but I don't get it. I mean, we all have our different methods, and obviously editing is important, but how much you edit I think is up to you, no? As long as you're happy in the end? Personally, I could never re-write a story, I have so much adhd, it's a miracle I can finish a book once, much less twice.

You’re asking someone who’s rewritten the same work over a dozen times whether or not it’s a good idea to rewrite?

Okay, in truth I’ve never rewritten my stuff word for word like I’ve seen people suggest. My main project is 300k so SURE LET ME GET RIGHT ON THAT. If that’s the kind of “rewriting” you mean, I’d ignore that advice (though it obviously works for some people). ADHD is a pain doing anything let alone defeating that jar of perturbed cephalopods. God, I’m so proud of you now that I think about it…

Personally, I prefer obsessive revising as I’m a madwoman for the details. Revisions are needed when continuity doesn’t line up, certain scenes are no longer necessary, and it’s clear I didn’t quite understand my own characters’ motivations in the beginning. It’s an essential practice if you plan to post, publish, or share your work with anyone. If you don’t intend on your story seeing the light of day and just want to jam out the next idea that’s fine, by all means don’t interrupt that creative flow. But in a year or two you should pick up that first draft again and see how you feel about it then (I have completely rewritten ancient drafts of mine because there was no other way to save them). If you’re the kind of person who thinks more along the lines of “what’s in the past is past” then cool, whatever.

The main point of a total rewrite, I think, is to give you one continuous look at your story as opposed to revising piecemeal and forgetting important details. By writing it over again you see the story from a new angle to help you catch flaws you may have missed previously.

I hope I answered your question, or at least gave you something to go off of. It’s past 3am where I am so I might have made no sense at all.

~ Thank you for asking!

bringmesomepie56  asked:

I don't deserve you. Probably never will, but I'm thankful as hell for you. In case you were wondering.

Of course you don’t deserve me. You’re only super amazing and talented and beautiful (inside AND out) and caring and there for me when I need you. 

Seems insane to think that someone with such glowing qualities could ever deserve me. I mean… Wait… maybe tis I who do not deserve you… 

Ah well, I guess we’re both undeserving and lame. lol. at least we’re not alone. See you in hell, my love!

anonymous asked:

Ok, so I know I shouldn't, but I feel better knowig there's other people out there like me. I'm 22-almost 23, & never done anything with a guy, I've never even been asked out. I know how you feel! I have horrible, crippling social anxiety, so I don't put myself out there AT ALL, but I'm still human, and I still have the need to be wanted ya know? I am torn between the desire to keep to myself, be alone bc that's what's comfortable & the fear of no one ever wanting me.

I feel the exact same way. I have anxiety and I’m a nervous wreck around people - especially people who I find attractive or have never met before - so it’s something people pick up on almost immediately and base a judgement of me on that. Like, just because I’m shy, that doesn’t mean I’m not going to get chatty and more confident - people have to make me feel comfortable before I show my true self. I feel so much better knowing there are people out there, either the same age or older, who haven’t gone through what half of everyone else has gone through. xx

6

“You told me not to follow you. To live on and be happy. You were the light of my life, but your flame is gone, extinguished by the sea. I’m so cold without you. I’m so lost without you.”
“I will always be with you, in every ray of sun, in every spark and flame. You’ll never walk alone.”

anonymous asked:

100 ways to say I love you?

1. “Everything is gonna be okay”

2. “We can go outside if your having anxiety”

3. “i’m here if you need to talk”

4. “your really something aren’t you”

5. “I like you just the way you are”

6. “i worry about you”

7. “your my favorite”

8. “I believe in you”

9. “your important to me”

10. “i care”

11. “I was just thinking about you”

12. “i noticed

Keep reading

She picked something from her table and walked towards her bed. She smiled lightly and sat down slowly. “I will never meet a lot of people. I will never be able to know and understand why people act the way they do. Even if I still can’t understand them perfectly, I knew that I can relate to what they were going through. Some things will never happen, some lessons will not be learned. And some of the greatest people I met will be forever strangers to me. Yes , I will never be able to tell you the wonderful memories—if that one thing never happened to me. If it occurred differently. I will not be talking about the stars if I haven’t experience the darkest of nights. I will not be mesmerized by how the sun rises if I wasn’t awake until it comes. I will not be in love with the sunset if I wasn’t waiting for the day to end. I will not be talking about heartbreak if it doesn’t happen to me. I will not be moved by sad movies if I never felt pain. I will not be talking about deep meanings behind things if I only used my eyes for trying to realize something. I will not be here if I made a different decision. If I chose a different option.”. She looked up and gave him the thing she’s been holding. A thing he thought she will never have. A piece of paper where a date was written. The day when they met each other. The day when he had seen her alone, reading one of her favorite books. The day when he was silently listening to his favorite music. “I was starting to move forward when you saw me. And I never expected that there’s still someone who would want to be with me when I started to stand and walk. I am moving on, and so are you—from two different reasons—but it feels more precious when we decided to do it together.”
—  ma.c.a // I Remember You
transcript of the speech i gave at Vassar’s black baccalaureate service

Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, honored guests, and the Vassar class of 2017.
Just saying that aloud made me feel old. Class of 2017? Most of y'all were born after dark-skinned Aunt Viv left the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. That’s wild.

I want to first thank you for allowing me to be a part of such a special moment in your lives. I am honored, privileged, and a bit in disbelief that you asked me of all people to give this address. I try not to have feelings, and I’m going to do my best not to cry today, but no promises.

I’m here to stand in the gap between you and your parents and guardians and any other elders in your lives that you stopped listening to because you thought they were wack and out of touch. I remember being in your shoes not TOO long ago, and it is my fervent prayer that something that I say here today will help you avoid some of the mess I went through.
To be honest I’m a little nervous, but I figured there was no way could this be worse than when Betsy DeVos went down to Bethune-Cookman, so let’s get started.

As you transition to life after Vassar the changes will be both inevitable and swift, so I’d like to begin by giving you some well-intentioned advice and warning you about the continued process of becoming an adult.

Keep reading

Eric Richard Bittle is Jewish

Tw: mentions of antisemitism

Ok, hear me out. I know there is a lot of evidence pointing to Bitty being a good Southern Christian Gay and like, that is completely plausible and if that’s your jam, great! But because I love projecting and rubbing my Jew-y hands on everything, here is a theory about Bitty being an extremely assimilatory southern Jew who only really gets in touch with his culture and Jewish identity once he gets to college in the North East.

So I did some research and while “phelps” (Bitty’s maternal family name) isn’t the dead ringer that “Birkholtz” or “Zimmermann” is, it still has a history of being a Jewish surname in the Anglo-Saxon region. So to me, Bitty is Jewish on his mom’s side, but his paternal family is very southern Christian and so, really that’s what he grew up with, because being Jewish in the south? Well… that’s a whole thing.

My mom grew up in Atlanta Georgia, and in her high school, she was the only Jewish person by a long shot. My grandfather taught at Emory and so they didn’t belong to a temple, and went to Hillel sometimes during the bug holidays, but for he most part she wasn’t involved in religious affairs because it wasn’t “normal”.

I think something along the same lines happened to Bitty. His Moomah always made Jewish food for their family, but only made Southern food for company. At Chanukah, they would put up a Christmas tree, but put a Jewish star as an ornament and call it a “Chanukah bush.”

Bitty had a friend in second grade named Timmy who came over for a play date one day, only to never come back because his mom saw their mezuzah on the front door and forbid them from hanging out again. “Timmy doesn’t need to be influenced by that kind”

After that, well, Bitty stops asking his mama to make kasha varnishkas for his lunch (someone once told him it looked like he was eating pasta with dirt in it) and he stops going to temple on rosh hashana, and he starts calling his Christmas tree a Christmas tree. When someone tells him he “doesn’t look Jewish” he knows it’s a compliment.

The Monday at school after the Closet Incident, there’s a swastika keyed into his locker.

Because it’s one thing being the gay kid in a small town, it’s a whole other thing to be gay AND Jewish. It’s like he’s had two strikes against him since he was born.

When he moves to Madison he begs his mom not to put up a mezuzah. He can’t understand why she starts crying, but she doesn’t put it up. It’s a fresh start.

The rest of middle school and high school, Bitty secularizes.

When one of his teammates in his coed team tells him he’s acting “like a Jew” when he asks her for money for the team shirts, Bitty bites his tongue so hard he draws blood.

When all the kids in his tenth grade English class throw pennies at Mr. Bloom during his lecture on Eli Wiesel, Bitty stays after and helps pick them up.

Fast forward to freshman year at Samwell, and Bitty is hanging around the haus just before Rosh Hashana.

Holster is talking to Ransom and Jack about putting something together for dinner, maybe picking up some matzo ball soup mix and some ruggies from a deli near by.

Bitty, who shuddered at the though of soup coming out of a box blurted out without thinking “you know, I could whip up some of my grandmas matzo ball soup? And maybe some kugel?”

All three of the other boys look at him with wide eyes.

“I didn’t know you were Jewish Bittle,” Jack quirked a brow in intrigue.

“Well,” Bitty said, face heating up, “I- I’m not JEWISH Jewish. My mom is Jewish. My Moomah is Jewish, but ME? I don’t know.”

Everyone else seemed perplexed by this statement, but Holster’s eyes lowered a bit.

Bitty took that to mean ‘I hate you why would you say that you should just leave’ and promptly scrambled out the door, a whirlwind of “sorry got to go’s”

Later that week, someone knocked on Bitty’s dorm door, and that someone was Adam Jacob Birkholtz, certified Nice Jewish Boy and hulking mass.

“Uh, can we talk?” Holster asked a bit sheepishly.

Bitty agreed and lead them into his room.

Holster sat on his tiny bed and asked, “what did you mean before? When you said your mom and grandma are Jewish but not you?” It was tentative, but Bitty could tell the question wasn’t an accusation.

“Well I mean, I don’t really celebrate anything anymore. For all intents and purposes my house was a secular house all throughout middle school and high school.”

“But bitty,” holster sighed, “just because your half Jewish doesn’t mean you can’t be Jewish. And even if you aren’t practicing that doesn’t mean you can’t be Jewish either. I had a friend in high school that was half Jewish and people at temple would make him feel unwelcome. You don’t have to worry about that here.”

“Oh um, thanks? But it’s not that. Look, I know I’m Jewish. People have been making that clear to me for my whole life.”

“What do you mean?” Holster asked.

Bitty then began to regale all of the things he’s experienced. All of the prejudice, the slurs, the pennies, the swastikas. All of the pain that came with being the Jew in the south.

Holster listened, “Bits, that’s really rough dude. And like, I get it, some things are too painful. But it’s not like that at Samwell. Sure there are assholes everywhere, and it’s not like there’s never any antisemitism but, if you haven’t noticed based on the hockey team already, you aren’t alone here! There’s a whole Jewish community that’s got your back.

"Listen, why don’t you come to Hillel with me for Rosh Hashana, we can make your Moomas soup together! And maybe even Jack will help and not complain. Just, I don’t want you to have to feel like that about yourself.”

Bitty begins to decline the invitation but then something stops him. He remembers being a little kid, dipping apple slices in honey and chasing his mama around the house with sticky fingers.

“Alright I’ll go.”

And he does.
And he loves it.

He starts going to Hillel with Holster after that, and sometimes Jack tags along, sometimes so does Shitty. And in his Sophomore year, Nursey comes along with, and then his junior year comes Tango.

He makes matzo ball soup by the barrel, and re-learns the prayers for the Shabbat candles.

But it’s in his freshman year that he goes home for Winter break and pulls out the old Star of David ornament and puts it on the tree.

He asks his mom if he could help light the Chanukah candles and she looks shocked at first, but then she smiles and says “of course sweetheart.”

Later he hands her a present. It’s a long and thin box wrapped in silver paper with a little blue bow on top.

She takes it from his hand carefully, like its a shard of glass or something.

She opens it and It’s a silver mezuzah cover.

It’s a fresh start.

anonymous asked:

" I took the opportunity to implore the Attorney General to prevent any future direct communication between the President and me. " I'm dying he was like jeff I dont ever want to talk to this asshole again

I mean, I’m not the first person to point this out, but Comey’s written testimony reads like an account of a woman suing her boss for workplace harassment. He tries pretending it didn’t happen but starts recording everything, then he tries to find a livable compromise, then he tries asking other people in the office to be a buffer, then he tries just smiling and nodding along while never being alone with him, and finally he’s fired for not giving his boss a metaphorical blowjob. 

Then he’s publicly questioned about his testimony which, in large part, consists of asking why he never said no or fought back. 

Its been almost a year since the orlando shooting happened. I don’t want to hear how “left out” aces are this pride, because they will never understand the turmoil we had to go through and strength we’ve had to maintain to get through this year alone. I’m still not over orlando, and i’m not sure I ever will be. I genuinely feared for my life and skipped Houston pride last year because of the suspected bomb threat. This month isnt meant to be some fucking pat on the back for being “special” or “different”. This is a month to celebrate, and a month to mourn. Stop hijacking the meaning of pride month and policing how actual lgbt people experience it.

#1: Painting

The first time Enjolras meets Grantaire, he’s painting.

It hadn’t been a planned meeting either- Enjolras was simply at the art block to bring Combeferre his forgotten coffee and possibly discuss a new idea for their blog. He hadn’t meant to run into a scruffy haired, stubble-faced cynic.

Enjolras pushes open the door to the studio marked ‘G’ as per the instructions on Combeferre’s text. Enjolras doesn’t venture into the art block very often- which would come as a surprise to approximately no-one- but even he finds it’s naming system easy enough to follow.

“Combeferre, I brought your coffee, you left it-“ Enjolras freezes mid-sentence as he walks into the room. There is a person standing in front of an easel. This person is not Combeferre.

“You’re not Combeferre.” Enjolras says.

The Stranger turns away from the easel. “No, I’m not Combeferre.”

“Why aren’t you Combeferre?”

“Did you seriously just ask me why I’m not Combeferre? I mean, for real, Combeferre should be asking himself why he isn’t me.”

Enjolras blinks. The Stranger sighs. “Look, whoever you are, I don’t know where Combeferre is and I don’t know why you’d think that you’d find him here. I’m like 90% sure he studies philosophy. No, wait, actually, I’m 100% sure he does because that’s how I know him- we have class together.”

Enjolras has to fight the urge to snap, because he knows Combeferre- of course he does, they’ve been friends for years. Whilst Combeferre technically studies philosophy, that’s never stopped him from dabbling in everything else. He’s been known to trail all of their group of friends into lectures and seminars- Enjolras’ history professor is practically used to Combeferre’s presence by now. 

Which, really, brings Enjolras back to the reason he’s here in the first place- Combeferre is doing an art piece on moths for his latest extracurricular interest- only, Combeferre isn’t here. Instead, Enjolras is faced with… whoever he’s speaking to right now.

“I’m sorry, what’s your name?” Enjolras asks, trying to regain his footing in this conversation.

“Grantaire.” Says Grantaire with a smile completely unfitting for the scenario.

“Enjolras.” Replies Enjolras. He would offer his hand for Grantaire to shake, but Grantaire’s hands are covered in paint and Enjolras is nursing a very hot cup of coffee between his.

Oh.” Grantaire says, eyes lighting up. “Oh- so you’re Enjolras? Combeferre speaks about you a lot. Not in a bad way, of course.” 

Enjolras doesn’t quite know how to respond. “Well, yes, I should hope not, seeing as we’re best friends. Are you sure he’s not here?” Enjolras asks desperately. He feels like he’s embarrassing himself- which is never a fun feeling- and right now he’d like to extricate himself from the situation, preferable as quickly as possible.

“Let me just check.” Says Grantaire, who places the paint brush between his teeth and then does a 360 turn around the room, using his hands as if to see into the distance. “Nope,” Grantaire says once he’s done his examination. “Not here. I could check under the desk if you want? In case he’s hiding there?”

Enjolras tries his best to keep a straight face- he knows Grantaire is mocking him, knows Grantaire is just taking the piss, but Grantaire still hasn’t stopped grinning and Enjolras finds himself hard pressed to wish the expression away.

“That’ll be fine, thanks. Any idea where he is? His text said to come to room G. Which is here.”

Grantaire frowns, although there’s still something akin to gleeful amusement in his expression. “This is room 6. Can you read, Enjolras?”

Enjolras feels his face flush. He can read, thank you very much- only… his vision isn’t the greatest when he’s not wearing his glasses. Grantaire is still expecting an answer though- and Enjolras supposes he did just barge into Grantaire’s studio space unannounced- so he clears his throat and tries to regain what modesty he can. “Ah. Sorry about this- not an intentional mistake-“

“Clearly.”

“So, I’ll just be going. Try and find Combeferre- actually find him this time.”

Grantaire nods, turning back to the easel and painting long strokes of yellow onto his canvas. “Don’t get lost again. Although I can’t imagine your presence would be unwelcome to most.”

Enjolras allows himself to smile. “I won’t get lost.” he says, nodding once to Grantaire before reaching for the door handle.

He’s halfway through when Grantaire’s voice calls back to him. “Enjolras?” Enjolras turns around. Grantaire smirks. “If you ever feel like bringing me coffee, I’m always in this room. Room six. Emphasis on the six.”

Enjolras only gives a coy smile in response. “We’ll see.” He says, letting the door swing shut behind him.

anonymous asked:

I can't help but hate levi///han now that levi is a dick to hange and doesn't deserve her I read this theory that questiong thing from this month means they are not even friends anymore bcoz levi doesn't feel comfortable enough to call hange by the nickame he had for her anymore and that's sad and also makes me angry because hange is always so nice to him and levi is a douche

Eh, that’s not how I see it.

IMO him dropping that nickname means 1) he legitimately respects her new position and wants to place an emphasis on that by example (humanity’s strongest soldier respecting the new commander is a big deal), and 2) he’s actively trying not to be a dick by throwing out a nickname that is NO LONGER APPROPRIATE – not just due to her rank, but, you know, the fact that she’s lost/damaged/ruined one of her eyes, now. 

The situation that ruined her eye was extremely traumatic: it got her work assistant killed–not to mention all of her colleagues: people’s she’s known for years of her career. This includes Erwin, whose shoes she has to fill right away. I doubt she wants the reminder of that terrible day spat out of Levi’s mouth like it’s some kind of a funny joke when there’s very little chance of her being able to see it that way anymore. I know everyone thinks Hange would take it with a grain of salt and all that (cracking jokes galore), but she has feelings and again: the situation was very traumatic. You don’t see Levi cracking jokes about his traumatic experiences, do you?

Fandom conveniently forgets that Hange is a person who experiences human emotion because they’re desperate to keep the ship dynamic for levihan the same forever.

And look, until we got this information, I think interpreting Hange as the sort of person who wanted normalcy there to distract from the depressing and painful reality was believable and realistic.

But with this information it seems that’s not actually the case.

And that’s okay! There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s okay for your headcanons to be proven wrong on occasion.

And listen to me, here: people change. They grow, and it’s not always apart. Sometimes they grow together, especially after they’ve been through something rough. The fight in Shiganshina was a rough experience. 

Hange has been through a surprising lot, though she’s barely focused on during those chapters. Almost the entire military branch she works in was wiped out. She lost countless acquaintances and friends. Now she has to lead what’s left of it…and without an eye. I wish fandom would stop laughing it off like it’s a cute “fun” injury because it looks “cool.” It was probably highly traumatic and painful for her, not just in the moment, either. The fact that it took so long for her to get treatment might have even been the real reason she lost it. The eye loss is associated with all kinds of trauma, both physical and mental. She’s a soldier, she’s accepted that something like this could happen, but that doesn’t make it easier to deal with; it doesn’t make any of her losses less painful.

So let’s talk about the responsibility that’s instantly clamped down on her shoulders after this, because Hange doesn’t even get a second to herself to just, you know, mourn or be sad. She’s the commander now. And while the SC might have sealed the wall(s), it was at a great price (and still under Erwin’s command almost entirely). Hange is going to have to fight for respect from pretty much everyone. Mission accomplished and all, but now that the walls are sealed, humanity is safe again lmao fuck the Survey Corps do we even need that branch anymore? Hange is going to have to present a case to save humanity and exterminate the titans and she’s going to need all the respect she can get to do that. She’s going to need more soldiers because <10 isn’t going to be enough. She’s going to need money and supplies and gear. I hate saying this, but it might not be something she’s capable of presenting on her own merit because she’s largely unknown by the people. (Her newspaper shenanigans help her case but only in that specific area.) However, humanity’s strongest soldier has pretty much all the respect from everyone in this world. If he has her back and is standing proudly at her side, it probably helps her case immensely. (He believes her, he believes in her, this isn’t some kind of a sick joke.)

I want to remind everyone, too, that when the newspapers start telling “the truth” of humanity’s situation, it’s like a 50/50 split? Lots of people think it’s bullshit. That doesn’t help Hange. Like I said: she needs all the respect and the backup she can get. Literally every ounce.


IMO, Levi dropping the nickname “shitty-glasses” was the best thing that could have happened to the ship. I know people think it means they’re not “equals” anymore, but everyone’s focusing on the wrong thing, here.

Up to this point in the manga we’ve seen Levi treat Hange more or less equally, but even in his attempts to comfort her he’s rough. He calls her by a rude nickname that we’re never sure is supposed to be endearing or not. For all we know, he means it in the way a coworker might call the fat guy in the group “porkchop” or other kids might be mean to a classmate by calling them “four-eyes.” Speculation and headcanons aside, canon hasn’t ever really given us a clear idea of what that nickname meant to Levi, let alone to Hange. She lets him call her it, but that doesn’t tell us much. For all we ever knew, she was used to being treated poorly by her peers.

However, with this new information, it sounds much more like the nickname “shitty-glasses” was, coming from Levi, an awkwardly endearing nickname–one he meant no harm with.

And we see that because he drops it. He goes out of his way to consciously stop a habit of his that would seem disrespectful to other people regardless of what it originally meant between them. Levi respects Hange and this is how he shows it. That’s a big deal.

I’d also like to point out, again, that it’s very likely he does this out of more than just respect for his commanding officer. Levi is hardly one to follow conventions, after all.

Hange is his friend. He cares about her safety and we’ve seen this (beneath the chapel). We’ve also seen him clumsily care about the place she’s in mentally (post-Nick’s death). I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that he cares about her feelings, too. And if this nickname drudges up emotional backlash and trauma for her, then by dropping it he’s showing that he cares about her and respects her as his friend.

8

Top 10 One Tree Hill relationships (as voted by my followers) #8 - Brooke and Nathan

“The thing is, the two of us have been down very similar roads. I mean, we were in the same cliques first. We both felt the same pressures, same expectations. Our parents were like children, and we both grew into kind of bad versions of ourselves way too fast. So I think you know I get it. They never really gave us a chance, did they - our parents? They didn’t know how. Look, the thing is, you made your dream happen, all right? And even though I didn’t quite get there, when it was taken away from me,I dealt with it alone. That was stupid, selfish and wrong. So if your mom tries to take your dream away from you and you feel that same pain I did I’ve sort of been there, okay? I’m gonna be kind of pissed off if you don’t come talk to me about it. Anyway, thank you for coming today. It means a lot. I know you didn’t know Quentin but it doesn’t surprise me that you’re thinking about other people when all this stuff is going on with you. That’s not bad for a girl who never had a chance.”