and there are many more to come

dariattic-reblogs  asked:

Hello mama Bree! I'm sorry that my question is more fantasy storytelling than anything, I don't know how to figure it out on my own - what do you think is the distinction between witches, wizards, mages, sorcerers etc, if any?

This is actually an excellent question and one that gets debated here in the tumblr pagan community from time to time. As far as fantasy literature goes, my personal connotations of the words are thus (barring commonly-used gender and alignment stereotypes):

Witch - Heavy use of spells and potions and plants, often capable of seeing things clearly where others can’t or won’t, usually live alone or with other witches or many many cats, not big on combat magics but the first person you want handy if healing or defense or good advice is needed, usually stationary (in storytelling, the witch doesn’t generally come to you, you go to seek out the witch). Do not ever EVER cross one.

Wizard - More partial to spells and cantrips which require deep knowledge of other languages (often old dead ones that few other people know or speak anymore), associated with magic that requires institutional learning, often has an array of specialized magical tools and arcane texts to work with, prone to meddling (for good or for ill), may be versed in combat (or at least offensive) magics.

Mage - User of more elemental magics, either of one particular element or a combination or two or more, also partial to books but more intuitive than wizards, excellent to have in the party as their magical skills tend to be of the practical kind that are useful on long and perilous quests and they don’t need a lot of extra equipment since they can throw together a spell with whatever’s around them.

Sorcerer(ess) - Heavily ritualized magic which requires a great deal of preparation and learning and often requires highly obscure items or substances, often maintains a lair or stronghold because of the amount of devices and research materials required for their craft, generally either the first person you want on your side or the last person you’d want to be fighting.

Auston Matthews - Six Games

Anon: Could you pleaseee do a Auston Matthews where he comes home after a loss and you cuddle and comfort him?

A/N: Idk what to say about this bc I wrote it at literally 3am, hope you enjoy and I hope it makes sense bc I was so tired AHH!!!! Also, not sure if Auston’s ‘goal drought’ was actually six games so soz if it wasn’t.

Warning/s: Suggestive themes, swearing

Word count: 871

Song: Burn - The Temper Trap

Originally posted by wonthetrade

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anonymous asked:

wait if it's not too much of a pain/too personal can you explain why your fellow kiwis think you're foreign?

Not too personal at all! It’s mostly just my accent. Apparently I don’t sound ‘traditionally kiwi’ by any means, so whenever people meet me for the first time they will often ask “Oh, how long have you been in the county? Do you like it here?” and stuff like that. 

It’s not a big deal, but it’s fun because I’ve lived here 99% of my life. 

OMGCP Beauty and the Beast AU-

Okay so here is what I got done last night and I tried to edit it as best I can! This is the first chapter so there will be more comin.

ANYWAY I hope you enjoy and there is more coming, this is just what I managed to write until I got exhausted and went to bed (I’m lame I know)

So like disclaimer: three PAST character deaths. I also changed up the prologue a little to fit the story. I’m taking a light spin on it, not too many drastic changes (if you count the reason Jack was turned into a beast a drastic change idk)

Here is the ao3 link:


Once upon a time in a faraway land, a prince lived in a shining castle. Although he had everything his heart desired, the prince was spoiled, selfish and unkind.

“Yo, Jack-O!” Bartholomew Knight, strides up to his best friend, admiring the party in front of them. “Wicked party man.”

Jack clears his throat as a few people from his court glance over with judgmental expressions.

“Right. Prince Jack-O.” His best friend bristles a little, slightly annoyed by Jack’s dismissive behavior.

“Where did Kent go?” Jack can’t help but ask, because his other closest friend was nowhere to be seen upon the lively dancing of the party. Usually he’s in the middle of it all.

“Don’t know, Brah. Probably fucked off somewhere–”

Jack shoots him another glare for the language, causing ‘Shitty’ (he liked to call himself just to get on Jack’s nerves) to sigh dramatically.

“Can you be a little less vulgar?” Jack practically bites the words out, sounding extremely unkind. “Why are you with me anyway? Usually you’re following Larissa around right about now.”

“Never mind. Thought you’d want my company, but I guess I’m an embarrassment. Now I know why Kenny dearest isn’t around. I wouldn’t be surprised if he left the palace again.”

The words struck a chord, and Jack watched helplessly as his friend left his side.

But then, one winter’s night, an old beggar woman came to the castle and offered him a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold.

“Hey yo, your highness?” Adam Birkholz, one of the guards approached him with his other pair in tow, Justin Oluransi. 

“–there’s someone at the door. She’s kinda sketch, but we don’t want to turn away a guest.” Justin says.

“I don’t remember inviting any outsiders.” Jack grunts, but he still follows them and weaves himself through the party. Once the three get to the door, a crouched figure with horrible posture shakes from the cold in a dark cloak covering most of their body. He feels the slightest bit of sympathy, but ever since his parents were assassinated, he trusted absolutely no one, and probably never will again.

“Who are you?” Jack demands, placing himself safely behind his two guards.

An old and scratchy voice responds. “Georgia Martin, no one special. I’m just looking for shelter from the cold. It’s quite a storm out there.”

When Jack doesn’t respond, she clears her throat and reaches down to pull something out of her cloak. Jack stumbles back in fear, and his two guards immediately block him from view.

“Relax, Jack Zimmermann,” –she can’t just address me informally like that– “It is only a rose. A peace offering and a gift, in exchange for your hospitality.”

Repulsed by her haggard and sketchy appearance, the prince sneered at the gift and turned the old woman away. But she warned him not to be deceived by appearances. For beauty is found within, and not every unfamiliar mundane is evil.

“No way am I letting you stay here.” Jack snarls at the woman, setting himself in front of his guards in a fit of anger. “A stranger can’t just waltz in here. This is a palace, not an inn.”

“I will not harm you.” She reassures him. “You have my word. Give me a chance?”

“Only fools allow complete strangers into their home.” Jack says sternly, still a little bit shaken.

“Like your parents?”

His blood runs cold and his hands begin to shake in the beginnings of a panic attack. “Get out.” He snaps, and his tone holds heavy malice that was sharp enough to cut anyone.

And when he dismissed her again, the old woman’s ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress. The prince tried to apologize, but it was too late. For she had seen there was no trust or kindness in his heart.

“Wrong answer, Prince Zimmermann.” Her appearance quickly changes in a flurry of gold light, changing her appearance faster than Jack can process. The gold dissipates, revealing a kind and beautiful face that couldn’t possibly be ‘mundane’. Jack suddenly feels the cold twinge of regret as the woman gives him a soft smile. A smile that reminded him a little of his mother, and he felt his heart constrict in sadness.

“Whoa– what the hell are you?” Adam mutters with a look of blatant surprise, while Justin’s mouth is glued shut in silent terror.

Then Jack feels something warm begin to flood over his body, which he assumes is the feeling of magic. There’s no other explanation.

“Stop it.” Jack glances behind him at his frenzied party guests trying to escape. “I’m sorry. You can stay one night. Just stop whatever you’re doing–”

Those were the last words Jack spoke before he felt his body change, causing slight pain deep in his bones. The heartbreaking shouts from his guests and his closest friends fill his ears, which was the most painful of all.

“Jack!” He hears Kent’s voice sound in the background noise, horrified and frightened. “Goddammit, what have you done?”

And his punishment: she transformed him into a hideous beast and placed a powerful curse on the castle and all who lived there.

Like a snap of someone’s finger, everything went silent as objects clattered to the floor and his body burned with a raw sensation.

He glanced in a nearby mirror and reeled backward from what he saw. That woman– that witch– had turned him into some kind of monster.

Ashamed of his monstrous form, he concealed himself inside his castle with a magic mirror as his only window to the outside world. The rose she had offered was truly an enchanted rose. Which would bloom until his twenty-first year if he could learn to love and trust another and earn their love and trust in return.

“Until you can learn to fully love another and trust them with your love, you will stay like this.” The enchantress’s voice rang loud and clear, and quite frankly terrifying in the sudden, eerie silence.

And when the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. As the years past, he fell into despair and lost all hope.

“This is for your own good, Jack.”

For who could ever learn to love a beast.


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Sometimes I wish I could consult for cosmetic companies… like they need to chill the F out with their constant releases. I’ve talked to so many people that like makeup but aren’t obsessed but just feel constantly bombarded with makeup now more than ever. It’s so daunting entering the world of makeup when companies are shoving new stuff down your throat every second. Then makeup influencers use like 60 products for one look. Urban decay just came out with their 100 lipsticks and nobody’s talking about them because they then launched more stuff right after. Y'all remember when the second naked palette came out and it was like the only big launch they had for the entire year? Then tarte cosmetics and too faced come out with some tacky eyeshadow kit thing every other day. They are both so tacky now. This is why companies like glossier/milk/pat McGrath are killing it. Especially glossier and pat McGrath. They both have a very small selection of products but everything is carefully launched and super high quality. Like the products live up to the hype. Ugh! Someone pay me to consult!!!! God damn.

DAY 3285

Jalsa, Mumbai                  Mar 26/27,  2017                Sun/Mon 1:26 am

Birthday - EF - Rameshwar Vyankatrao Chavan ..  Ef Ratna .     …  &

Ef Ratna .. on Monday  the 27th day of the making .. with wishes for all that come to this platform .. with love from all the Ef

Sundays become the awaited moment with the family .. depending on which moment one waits for .. there is life and death, there is opportunity and endeavour, there is sufficient tolerance - beyond which there really is no space or design for any further activity ..

Idle matter hibernates and within few hours one is declared to be suffering from Alzheimer’s , breathing problems, heart conditions and the lot of many more .. the last stunt that I did with a semblance of doing good .. was the one which prepared for the next one .. stay well ..

The deliberate staying in when the whole world invites .. is a shame .. so I do accept the anger .. but I shall make amends ..

And that is made in the recording studio .. a song a technical monitoring for film and we are into the next one ..

Modern technology is delaying the response system of the body and the human .. they are obsessed by modern technology .. little realising that in time it shall be very conventional submission .. but when it does it would be interesting to see where all this Blog and others go in normal courtesy  ..

This DAY is causing deep slumber .. good night and see ya later ..

Amitabh Bachchan

sometimes I feel class differences to be far more isolating than race or cultural discrepancies. like even hanging out with people with the same ethnic background and jazz, ive just come to realize we don’t share that many experiences in common if they had an affluent upbringing. and its just so much more humbling(?/shaming) when those same people turn around and ask oh where did you go for your family vacations or what did your parents study and shit 

This Life

requested: Hi! I read your Tae scenario and loved it! I wanted to request a Jungkook rainy day type of fluff? Lol like he and his gf just stay in on a rainy day and chillax and play around 😃

Genre: fluff 

Word count: 1.7k

Originally posted by theking-or-thekid

*squish squeak squish squeak*

Your shoes were sopping wet and the inevitable noise coming from them was agitating you even more as you walked down the hallway to your apartment. You reached into your bag trying to find your key to finally get inside and relax, but the sudden pool of water you felt at the bottom distracted you. “UGH OH MY GOD.” You yelled.

Jungkook was on the other side of the door, sitting on your couch and playing video games. He jumped at the sudden screams coming from outside the apartment and dropped his controller. Gosh he was startled, not many people yell so loud in apartment buildings. His eyes opened wide once recognizing your voice and ran to open the door and check if you were alright. You weren’t one to be so disruptive.

In a matter of seconds after you let out your anger verbally the door in front of you swung open and your boyfriend with wide eyes started questioning you immediately.
          “Y/n! What’s wrong?! Why’d you yell? Why are you soaking wet?!? Did someone do this to you? Why-”
    You let out a sigh as he was speaking. He calmed down and quieted himself. “No, I’m ok Jungkook.” You responded
You stepped forward and he stepped aside to let you into your shared apartment.
          Jungkook, still watching you wanting to know why you were in this state, stood silently. His eyes following your figure as you walked straight into the kitchen and to the sink. First, you took off your shoes. Wet shoes was one of your most hated feelings. After dumping the water out of them you did the same to your purse, after plugging the drain so nothing falls down the pipe.
      Damn. That’s all that was running through Jungkooks mind. How the hell is so much water coming out? He didn’t know that was scientifically possible.
             Finally, you ringed out your hair, bent over the sink so you wouldn’t ruin your wood floors.

“…so?” He questioned

“I wanted to walk to the food market today since we needed more produce and the weather seemed so nice. I was half way there, and you know how far it is, when it started raining so hard. It didn’t even look like it would rain. It’s like the grey clouds appeared out of no where!” You huffed. He went a few seconds without showing response. “It’s raining?” He asked confused.
You walked over to the window and swung open the curtains. He always closed them when he was gaming, it was his cave in a way. “Jungkook, it’s pouring.” He was appalled at the sight of the harsh amount of droplets being let down from the sky.
You proceeded to the bedroom to get changed into dry clothes. And warm ones. You were freezing by now.
He followed you a few feet behind, “yes, I do know how far it is, we always take the subway, why would you walk there baby?”
“I didn’t think it would rain and I wanted to be outside so I didn’t mind the distance..” you sulked and pulled off all your wet clothes clinging to your skin.
Jungkook left you to yourself for privacy while doing so. He yelled down the hall as he was almost back in the living room, “do you want hot tea or anything?”
“No it’s ok babe I’ll make it,” you hollered back.

A few minutes later, you exited your room with your pajamas on… even if it was only 2 pm. The coziest pants you could find and a soft t shirt (which happened to be Jungkooks but he let you claim it as yours a long time ago. He thought it was cute on you) and some fuzzy socks. You boiled the water in the electric kettle on the kitchen counter and made your way to the couch where jungkook continued his game. He was sitting with his legs apart, leaning forward when all of a sudden you blocked his vision and knelt down to make your next action easier. You then scooted in between his legs. There wasn’t much room on the couch between his thighs but you didn’t care because the only thing you wanted right now was the warmth of his body enveloping around your frame. Bringing your knees up to your chest you cozied into his torso and he scooted backward so you would have more room. The contact of soft skin from his lips on the nape of your neck made you even more at ease. You leaned your head back onto his shoulder so you wouldn’t block his view. He nuzzled into your neck once again, not leaving his eyes from the screen. “Who are you playing with” you asked
“Yugyeom, Bam Bam, Tae and Hongbin. Heechul left before you got home.”
“Why don’t you have your headset on then?”
“Because I’m with you y/n. I’m gonna get off once this match ends so I can cuddle my babygirl.” He said and he sent little pecks up to your ear while he was still nuzzled against you.
      Affection like this always made you giggle, it was such a precious thing. And he loved your giggles, so he only continued.

He put down his controller on the cushion next to him and snakes his arms around your stomach to give you a little bear hug. 


“Ahhh,” you frowned. The water was ready to be poured. Why couldn’t it have waited a little longer. You just wanted to stay in your boyfriends arms. “I don’t wanna get up” you whined, “but I really want tea,”
“I have a solution.” He held your waist and guided you to stand up while he did the same. Once standing, he turned you around so you were facing each other, only a few inches apart.

“Jump.” He said
“Jump on me, I’ll carry you over.”

You did as he said, jumping onto his torso, latching your arms around his neck and your legs around his back. Like a piggy back ride, only in front. He place one hand on your lower back and one under your butt for support. As he walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a mug out of the cabinet, he requested, “tell me what to do, you just hang on to me jagi.”
“Yes sir.” You playfully responded to his stern spoken words.
After telling him what tea bags to use, how much honey and milk you liked, he carried the cup of tea back to the living room and you sprung off of him landing on the couch flopping at the impact. He chuckled. “Aww your game ended. Sorry Jungkook.” You said sitting up.
              “It’s alright, I like you better.” He winked. He sat down next to you and put on the TV. Subconiously he raised the glass with your tea and put it to his lips. “Yah!! That’s mine!” You sounded like a little kid. So smol and cute when your angry. You reached for the cup but being the teaser your boyfriend was, he leaned far away from you and held the tea up in the air. There was no way you could reach it. That little meanie always teasing you. “Jungooook-ahh” your voice was raised and eyebrows furrowed. He gave you his signature bunny smile, all his teeth showing.
     You felt the warmth spread through your body. Every time he smiled like that you just fell more in love w him. You forgot all about the tea, only able to remember what a blessing this life was, how much things like this meant to you. How much he meant to you. In only what felt like a second to him you wrapped your arms around him and put your head in his chest. The scent of him made you try to snuggle into his chest more.
                Just a moment ago you were “mad” at him. You had your nose scrunched and you just wanted your tea. Now you couldn’t be closer to him. It psychically wasn’t possible. He was puzzled. But he didn’t mind it. He loved it actually. He softly placed the mug down on the coffee table and leaned back to the right so you two could lay down. He pulled you up closer to his face and you poked your head up to look at him, hands resting on his chest. He was looking back at you.

“Fuck I’m so in love with you.” He cheekily smiled.    “Well it’d kinda be awkward if you didn’t considering we live together.” You teased

He chuckled at your words before responding, “yeah yeah but seriously, I’m so incredibly lucky to have you. I love you y/n. So much.”
“I love you too jungkook.” You softly said back.

He pulled his head up to kiss your forehead before you both put your heads down. His was on the arm rest of the sofa and yours was right under his collarbones. His heart was right under you. You could hear the steady beat of his body and it made your life comfortable. He hand his hands towards the curve of your back and would draw insignificant patterns with his fingers from time to time. It all put you in a trance.
It felt like a dream, and maybe it was, but you didn’t want to wake up from it yet.

             You were tired. Being so tense earlier and walking all that way in the rain exhausted you. Sleepy was how you felt. And sleepy you looked.
“Go to sleep baby” he whispered to you
“Will you meet me in my dreams? I don’t wanna fall asleep yet if I stop getting to look at your face right now.” You said, sounding like a little kid because of your half awake state. You said such cheesy things when tired.
He smiled to himself, “yes. I’ll never leave your side. Now rest my love. Sweet dreams.”

                And with the melody that came naturally through his voice, you closed your eyes, took one last deep inhale, and by the time the last of it was over you were sleeping soundly. And he soon followed you. As your minds connected in dream land your heart beats connected on the couch. Your own essences of time synchronizing, making everything feel more secure and as if your love would never fade away.

         This life. It was made for you two to share. So share it you shall.

Morning (Wonho Fluff)

for @wonhoeinamillion I hope you like it!!


Originally posted by mybabyoppa


Shin Hoseok was many things. A singer, an artist, a dancer, a mood maker, a visual and most important of all to me, my boyfriend. Being all these things is tiring and I wished he got more rest along with the others. That was why it pained me to wake him because he slept through his alarm. 

“Hoseok.” I cooed running a hand through his messy bed hair, but no response. “Hoseok, baby you got to get up.” I spoke in his ear, in reaction his bare arm tightened around me. “Come on.” I said and traced his lips with my fingers. That was when a small smile broke out on his face. “I just want to stay a couple more minutes.” He groaned and adjusted our position to where his head was resting on my chest. 

“I want to too, baby. But the guys are waiting. You have practice.” I felt him sigh against me. “Hoseok…” I said and his eyes finally met mine. He looked so tired, I couldn’t let him go. “I’ll call Shownu. Tell him you need to catch up on sleep.” I said and he smiled widely, reaching over to the bedside table to grab his phone. He nestled his face into my neck as I dialed Shownu’s number. “You’re the best, baby.” He whispered and closed his eyes.He was such a hard worker. 

A/n: It’s really short I know. I’m sorry if you didn’t like it.

anonymous asked:

I asked about how to prevent my dogs from fighting but I never got an answer and they started fighting again so I attempted to break them up and ended up getting bitten

I’m sorry. I have a feeling you’re blaming me? But honestly my advice would have been to separate them and get a trainer. If they fight every time someone comes to the door, then don’t let the dogs be there. Your problem is much more serious than a quick internet search.

If you check out my blog FAQs, you’ll find this guy:

10) Do you answer every question you get?
No, unfortunately. I get way too many! If you want to increase your chance at getting a response, I answer a lot of non-anons privately. I also don’t answer any questions about aggression, or any that can be found on the FAQ or Dog FAQ pages.

Love and Space (Lovin’ Space)

Alec closes the door and turns to face the empty loft. It’s dark, all of the lights out, and from where he’s standing, he can make out the silhouette of the couch, of the lamp on the end table, the bookshelves against the wall. Even in the dark it looks well-organized and comfortable, with fluffy armchairs and stacks of books and a sense of eclectivity, a grandfather clock against one wall and a glass coffee table in front of it. It all seems so incredibly Magnus, everything about it, and yet it seems so familiar, like he’s been here a hundred times before. Because he has, or nearly as many, and he feels more comfortable here than he ever has anywhere else. He will say though that the appeal has always been Magnus himself. There is nothing in the world like coming here after a long day, tired and sore, and seeing Magnus on the sofa, reading a book in a language he doesn’t even recognize, or Magnus walking over to greet him with a kiss, or Magnus pushing him up against the wall the moment he closes the door. They’re all wonderful options, really, and it’s what Alec spends his days looking forward to, what he’s been waiting for all day, and he’s so tired. It was training in the morning, and then there was a sudden attack up in northern Manhattan, and then he was on patrol, and then he filled out paperwork until his eyes stung, and he’s been thinking about Magnus all day, and he just wants to curl up with him in bed and drift off to sleep.

But Magnus isn’t in the loft, isn’t in the living room, at least, and it’s perfectly silent. It’s early for him to be asleep, and Alec knows he didn’t have anything scheduled tonight, and he didn’t call or text to say that that had changed. So Alec figures he’s home, and he takes off his boots and coat and leaves them by the door. He walks a little farther into the loft, past the orange armchair that popped up last week, and the rug feels soft and warm under his bare feet. He’s about to turn and go down the hall, thinking maybe Magnus is in his office, when he catches something out of the corner of his eye. Out on the balcony, behind the closed glass doors, there’s a dark shape outlined against the light of the city.

Magnus is standing off to one side, invisible to where Alec was standing before, leaning against the rail, back to the loft. He’s very still, and he looks very pensive, like he might not want to be disturbed. But Alec thinks he should at least say hello, and then he’ll leave if Magnus wants him to. He’d understand.

So he pads across the carpet, narrowly dodging the corner of the low glass coffee table, and pulls open the balcony door. Magnus doesn’t turn around, and Alec shuts the door as quietly as he can.

“Hey, Magnus.”

The city is bright, the light of a thousand stars caught and shining up at them, twinkling and dancing through the dark. Together, they shine like a meteor, hot and flashing and full of reckless life, blacking out the sky. And still the moon hangs above them, eerily white and incandescent, absolute and so small in comparison, but it’s there, and it’s bright, and it’s the only thing in the inky sky.

The light creates sharp lines around Magnus, and Alec can see the tips of his hair spiked up and the outline of his upper body, but everything else is black.

Alec steps forward, walks across the balcony to stand next to Magnus against the railing, his eyes adjusting to the darkness, and Magnus turns toward him with a small, tired smile.

“Hello, Alec.” His voice is low and quiet and soft, his eyes gentle and dark.

It’s terribly sad to see someone you’ve always known as big and bright and confident be reduced to fit within the parameters of the human being. It’s tragic, really, and there is nothing more in the world Alec wants than to right this, than to give everything back to Magnus that the world has taken from him. And this is where he starts.

“Are you okay?”

Magnus smiles a little wider, though it looks pained, and he turns his body to face Alec, taking the last few steps that separate them, throwing his arms around Alec’s neck.

“I missed you.”

Alec winds his arms around Magnus and holds him against his chest, hands curled into the fabric of his shirt, and he nestles his head against Magnus’ shoulder, breathing him in. Magnus melts into him like it’s a great weight from his shoulders to feel Alec’s breath against his skin, to feel him breathe in and out, to press his hands against Alec’s back and to stand there, in the busy, bright night, breathing in the open air, holding Alec to him and feeling Alec’s heartbeat against his chest.

Against his ear, Alec whispers, “I missed you, too,” and he has. He’s missed Magnus all day, from the moment Magnus left for his first meeting, and he’s been thinking about this, about what it’s like to feel Magnus’s breath against his cheek and his heartbeat against his chest. But it’s not the same, it’s nothing in comparison to actually being here, to holding Magnus in his arms, and feeling the warmth of Magnus’ skin.

Together, they make a one very small black dot on the dark balcony of a dark loft in New York, the city bright and loud and unaware of their existence, indifferent. It goes on shining, twinkling, and they don’t take any notice. They just cling to each other a little bit tighter, eyes closed, reveling in the feeling of being this close, in the feeling of having this, of having this beautiful, wonderful thing to come home to every night.

And then Magnus pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against Alec’s, and he’s still smiling so brightly with that profound sadness that makes him looks unbearably tired.


Magnus doesn’t say anything for a moment, and then he whispers, voice soft and reverent, “I love you, Alec.”

“I love you, too.”

Magnus closes his eyes, forehead against Alec’s, breathing him in, soaking in the feeling of being this close, of standing on the balcony over a city that outshines the stars. Alec runs his hand over Magnus’ back and watches the light catch on Magnus’s cheek, fold into the little dips beneath his eyes and sparkle in the glitter on his eyelids. He’s beautiful, like some kind of god, and he opens his eyes and looks at Alec like he’s the only thing worth looking at, but he doesn’t say anything. He just stands there, looking at Alec like that, and Alec looks back at him with the same wide-eyed wonder and adoration, and he doesn’t push, he just stands there and waits for Magnus to tell him everything he needs to say.

anonymous asked:

Would you agree that Mikasa is a Mary Sue?

In short: hell to the fucking no

It’s a shame that there’s no proper official definiton of the term, thus this’ll be a bit vague.

It’s true that Mikasa’s physical power doesn’t come exclusively from herself,  her relation to the Ackerman clan plays a big part in that, and it probably would be more believable if Isa had already explored this part of the story, but oh well.  However, Mikasa’s strength doesn’t just come from that. Like the others, she went through years of training, mastering abilities and techniques, and growing even stronger, through hard work, something that came from herself.

And even if her strength wasn’t her own, it still wouldn’t make her a Mary Sue, after all, Mikasa has found herself unable to achieve victory many times. She was unable to rescue Eren from Annie in the forest and would’ve likely been killed if it wasn’t for humanities strongest showing up. During the armored titan fight she wasn’t able to make a difference, and when the SC attempted to rescue Eren from RB in the fields, her physical strength was useless against Reiner, and she even ended up heavily injured and unable to fight even against the mindless smiling titan, spelling her doom if it wasn’t for Eren and Hannes. She was almost shot in the raid on the Reeves company, Bertholdt was able to hold his ground against her in human form in Shiganshina, and her thunderspears were useless against CT. And Hange bested her on the rooftop. Does that sound like a Mary Sue to you? 

Although Mikasa has often relied on her superior physical strength, it has proven to simply be lacking too often. And thats the thing about Attack on Titan: simply being the strongest guy around simply doesn’t cut it. As Eren put it in ch 72, they had to combine their forces in order to truly bring about change.

So please, no one ever call my daughter a Mary Sue again^^ 

anonymous asked:

I just wanted to say that I really, really appreciate that you've continued your work on Vampire Reviews. When so many other reviewers and critics that I used to love turned out to hold really dangerous and bigoted stances on issues that directly affect me, you, and people like you, make it all more bearable. Thanks for being our Maven. And for the record, I'd like to reaffirm that you deserve an honorary doctorate in Vampire Studies. :)

Thank you so much!! I hope to continue being your Maven for quite some time to come <3

Woobification In Fandom Culture

I spend a lot of my time on Tumblr. Possibly too much time, however I don’t go outside. On Tumblr it isn’t uncommon to be immersed in something called a fandom. I have so far been in 3 Tumblr fandoms. My first one was Homestuck, however I joined really late. The comic ended about 2 years after I officially joined the fandom. It was a strange experience to be my first online fandom. Many people shipped sort of incestuous ships. However, a lot of the ships weren’t directly incestuous so it was more forgivable. You may be wondering how Homestuck and it’s weird fandom has anything to do with woobification.

The Homestuck fandom was mainly teenagers or young adults. The characters were all teenagers, it was a coming of age story. A lot of the characters were very violent. You could go anywhere in the fandom sphere and see someone say “I love Gamzee, he’s so precious. He doesn’t deserve to be treated badly.” However this wasn’t exactly the case. In the beginning, yes Gamzee did deserve to be treated better. However he had a mental breakdown and went on a murderous rampage. People in the fandom sort of ignored that until he started killing their favorite characters. Some still ignored it, shipping him with multiple of his victims.

I was able to escape the Homestuck fandom by entering another one. This one was even more hellish. This fandom used to rule Tumblr, some argue that it still does. This show has gone on too long and has a gif for everything, even if you don’t ask for it. This fandom is notorious for queerbaiting and shipping wars. I’m talking about the Supernatural fandom. Another one I entered late. I got into it between seasons 10 and 11. People are still arguing whether it’s okay to ship Sam and Dean, or if it’s better to ship Destiel.

The Supernatural fandom has woobified every character at least once. Prior to season 11 it was very common for fans to demand the writers bring back the antagonist Lucifer. They say he was misunderstood, that he wasn’t bad, that they love him, even though he literally wanted to kill every human on existence because his dad was mean to him.

The Supernatural fandom acts like Castiel, an angel, a literal warrior of God, is a precious child who doesn’t understand social interaction. In the canon of the show, at one point he could kill someone with the snap of his fingers. The fandom acts like Sam and Dean would not be able to harm them, when Dean would happily slit their throat if they stepped too out of line.

The third fandom I entered was the It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia fandom. You may be wondering “why is that a fandom?” well the answer to that is: I don’t know. It’s a good show. People like to bond over shows they like. This fandom is the calmest one I have ever been involved in. I entered the fandom during season 12, which is actually about when an actual Tumblr fandom rose. Prior to this, most people would have reaction gifs or images from the show. Even though I hadn’t seen the show yet, I saw captioned screenshots from the show on my dashboard from time to time. It was a well known show, it had been on for over a decade. I had seen promos for the show while having FX on as background noise, I remember the black and white promos from season 9 saying they were switching to FXX.

This show, at it’s core, is about terrible people doing terrible things. It’s a satire of ignorant white Americans. Some people call the characters sociopaths. All of them are damaged, there I no arguing. They all have trauma. Mac is gay and came out at 40 years old, due to his Catholic upbringing. Charlie is illiterate and stalks a woman, who he doesn’t even know her name. Dennis was raped at 14 and uses sex as a form of manipulation and a way to assert himself in society. Dee was abused by her parents and her peers, and she lashes out on other women to make herself feel better. Frank was also abused as a child, he grew to be greedy and neglectful. All of these characters are alcoholics and substance abusers.

These characters are also extremely racist and bigoted. They’re just plain awful people. The first episode of the series is titled “The Gang Gets Racist”. In the fourth episode of the first season, titled “Charlie Has Cancer”, in which Charlie pretends to have cancer so he can gain sympathy from the woman he stalks, Mac and Dennis try to set Charlie up with a woman, they fail miserably and Mac begins a relationship with a trans woman named Carmen. Mac and the rest of the gang refers to her as “the tranny”, which is a transphobic slur.

At the end of the day, none of these characters ever get what they want. Fans woobify these characters by treating Charlie like a five year old child who couldn’t hurt a fly, when in canon he regular kills rats by bashing them with baseball bats, one of which has a chain and nails sticking out of it. In the episode A Very Sunny Christmas, Charlie bites a mall Santa’s neck, causing terror and tremendous blood loss, possibly death. There is no arguing whether Dennis is a serial rapist or not. He is, it is literally canon, however many people don’t necessarily talk about it. No one talks about Dee also being a serial rapist. Both Reynolds twins manipulate people for sex, usually nonconsensual.

Mac and Dee are guilty of blackface and other racist costume types. People point out that it was a bad choice to include these things, as casual viewers, and people who aren’t aware of the satire, would normalize it. Plus it was just in bad taste.

Some people lower Mac to this husk of The Gay Man, and ignore his other extremely interesting character flaws. People lower Dennis to The Emotional One, when he is a very sinister person. People make Dee to be The Tragic Female, when she brings it on herself sometimes, she is an awful person. People think of Charlie as The Dumb One when he sometimes can be the most intelligent one, and the most manipulative. People don’t even talk about Frank. If you take one member of the gang away from the others and make 100% sure that they can not go near the others, they won’t magically become better people. They would wreak havoc alone.

Woobification takes dimension away from characters. It is important to take a step away from the fandom versions of characters and reevaluate characters. You can enjoy a character who is an awful person. You don’t have to apologize for liking them. Your favorite character can be the “villain”. Every character has their own motivations and reasons for acting the way they do. Usually it is due to their upbringing. You can like The Bad Guy as long as you don’t ignore all of the interesting facets of their personalities. Every character deserves to have multiple dimensions.

cinderella2122  asked:

Not sure if you are still taking CTM Prompts but here is one - Patsy falls asleep on Delia's bed waiting for her to come home only to be discovered the next morning by Sister Julienne looking in to see if Delia made it home. All the while Delia was stuck at the hospital because someone called in sick.


(though i expect she might not appreciate my explicit enthusiasm)

thank you for this lovely prompt!  

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I just want to say a huge THANK YOU to everyone who has supported this blog over the last 3 & ½ years since I started this blog in 2013. From Inazuma Eleven, Go and now Ares! 

Through both this moments blog and my main I’ve been able to become friends with so many awesome people and shared so many amazing sakka moments. 

I’ve had so much fun running this blog and I can’t wait to see what Ares has in store for us! I’m looking forward to making more moments for this blog this year and more years to come!

- Admin :D 


genre: fluff

summary: hyunggu is your new neighbor

a/n: for my girl @pentagon-fics | I actually read through this before posting so there shouldn’t be like spelling or grammar issues, but if so, I suck sorry

Originally posted by bbykino

“Ugh, finally.”

You groaned as you set down the heavy box that you’d packed to the brim. Why you insisted on having so many shoes you’ll never understand. And why your new apartment’s elevator decided not to work the day you moved in, you’ll also never understand.

Keep reading

Fix This (Ch. 1)

Summary: While the Gallaghers are partying, Carl finds Ian beaten and crying. The family then makes their way to give Mickey a piece of their mind.

Word Count: 1172

Notes: I have a lot of requests coming in today, thank you guys :)

Frank’s last crazy episode involved him pretending he’s gay, which was totally wrong, but it gave the children many benefits. Many food baskets and “Thank You” cards got sent to the Gallagher household, so obviously everyone used the food to their advantage.

As Fiona passed out the food and explained to Carl that their father was not gay, she noticed her boyfriend wasn’t there. “Think he’s still wonderin’ if there’s any more cheese?” She tilted her head at V, but regardless of any worry, she laughed.

Everyone began to eat and look through the silly cards that Frank was receiving. Then Carl announced that he didn’t know where Ian was, when no one responded he raised his eyebrows. “I guess I’ll go see if he’s in our room.” With that Carl got up and ran up the stairs.

When Carl got near the room he shared with his brothers, the door was closed. Once close enough, he heard sobbing coming from the other side of the door. He’s never seen one of his older siblings cry before.

Suddenly worry and protectiveness took over and he stormed in the room to find Ian with his eyes shut tightly, and tears and blood all over his face. Carl wanted to kill whatever

or whoever is making Ian this upset.

Slowly, he walked over to his brother and laid a hand on his shoulder to make his presence know. “Ian? Are you okay?”

“Fucking Mickey is marrying some commie skank that Terry forced to fucking raped him!” Ian shouted in sadness and anger. Carl had no clue what the hell Ian had to do with Mickey, but he grew a strong and sudden anger towards the Milkovich boy. When Ian opened his eyes, he had a horrified expression on his face. “Oh, shit,” he tried to wipe his tears away. “Fuck, I thought you were Lip,” he said shakily. He can’t be weak in front of his younger siblings.

Carl sat next to him on the bed. “Are you okay?” Carl looked him in the eyes, but he turned his head away. When he didn’t respond, the younger boy frowned. “Did Mickey beat you up?” Ian bottom lip started to tremble and tears started welling in his eyes. That was all Carl needed to see.

The younger Gallagher boy stood up and left the room without saying anything else to his brother. On his way down the stairs he grabbed the bat before rounding up his siblings. It’d be hard to take on Mickey Milkovich, but you don’t hurt one of the Gallaghers without them all going after you– no matter who you are.

“Why do you have the bat?” Debbie raised her eyebrows.

Carl slightly swung the bat in his hands. “Mickey beat Ian up. He’s upstairs crying and saying some shit about how because of Terry, Mickey’s marrying a commie skank that raped him. I don’t know what that all has to do with each other other, but we gotta go get him,” he insisted.

“Mickey did what–” V started but was cut off.

“Wait,” Lip chimed in. “You said he brought up how Mickey’s getting married again?” Carl nodded his head.

“Again?” Fiona’s eyes widened.

Lip nodded. “I already talked to him about it. I didn’t know Terry forced the chick to rape him though– that’s fucked up,” he stated. “Anyway, I got a lot of explaining for you guys,” he said before putting his shoes on. He motioned for everyone to follow him out the door, and they made their way to the Milkovich household.

* * *

As V and the Gallagher’s approached the porch of the Milkovich house of horrors they stopped and processed what Lip had told them. He informed them of house Ian and Mickey have been fucking for nearly three years. He also told them how Ian was completely in love with the thug, and how Ian thought Mickey felt the same. Speechless was short of a word for what they were all experiencing when they were told this information. No one would ever expect any of the Milkovich boys to even be in some sort of relationship– let alone with a guy.

Once everything sunk in, Carl propped his bat up, and motioned for Lip to go knock on the door. Just a Lip started pounding against the door, it swung open. Mickey stood there with the most unreadable expression on his face– sort of apologetic, sort of like he wasn’t surprised to see them there. He stepped aside to let them in. “You gonna hit me with that thing?” He asked Carl.

“If I need to,” Carl said coldly. Then Fiona stepped front and pulled the bat to the ground so the boy wasn’t aiming it anywhere. Though the bat was lowered, he still held a tight grip on it in case he needed to get into action.

“What the fuck did you do to him?” Fiona spoke with an unmistakable venom. Smoke was practically fuming from her ears.

Mickey looked down guiltily, he couldn’t speak though because if he did he would most definitely say something stupid– like declare his love for the redhead. He held his composure though.

“After you beat him up he must not have had the energy to even clean himself up because there’s still blood all over him,” she exaggerated.  “He’s at home right now fucking crying his eyes out.” As she spoke of tears she could’ve sworn she saw pain and sorrow plaster across the Milkovich boy’s face. “I’m not fucking kidding, you better fix this, Mickey,” Fiona inched herself closer and closer when she realized he wasn’t going to do anything to her.

“You do not mess with the Gallaghers,” Debbie stated proudly and tried to walk forward, but V kept her tight hold on the younger girl.

“And you will never touch a hair on him again,” V spat. “Fucking despicable.” Silence reigned over everyone as Mickey started to shake.

Lip still scoffed at Mickey’s silence. “He fucking loves you,” he said with a dry chuckle. Mickey’s breath hitched at the words.

Mickey knew he was deserving of all of this. Normally, he would fight back, but he couldn’t do anything but listen at the moment. He couldn’t do anything because he was trying to focus on maintaining a steady breath rather than telling them how he feels. When he looked up through his eyelashes he saw a look on Fiona’s face that showed she knew what he was feeling.

“Holy shit,” her eyebrows raised. “You do love Ian,” she said in shock. A small crock came from his throat.

No one realized Terry Milkovich was standing there until a loud bang came from the other side of the room.

anonymous asked:

I was thinking about the change on Gillian's tweets and her relationship with David. They took many years to get over with whatever put them apart during the series. They wouldn't jeopardize it. So, I have to believe they've decided to shield their relationship from too much exposition. They're out of control in the last years, especially her. If they're together I guess it's clever to avoid media bc fans can be crazy. Look at this mess we've made (us=fandom). I don't blame them. 😕

I don’t blame them either. David has always been more careful with what he said on social media, especially when it comes to communication with Gillian. She’d been a tease for years, pushing this game very very far, being dirty and all. Maybe she was just tired of it and wants to calm things down in order to protect their privacy. It’s understandable.