So we all know that whenever we put a story out, we’re subjecting our material to all sorts of opinions, ideas and feedback. And while it can be tough, we have to keep an open mind about how people will react to our story and the universe we’ve created. As artists it’s hard to, well bluntly put it, not be sensitive about our shit.
Do you guys ever get that ONE review that really just kind of grinds your gears? Like you wanna just say, “look man feel how you want but WHY are you being so harsh in your review? Just chill and work with me here or at least wait until the end before you completely obliterate what I have going on here?” and it’s hard because you know in the back of your mind that “everyone’s entitled to their opinion!” but geeeze, sometimes there’s just that oooonnne review.
I just needed to rant a bit. And no, I’m definitely not expecting every review to be great, I can definitely appreciate open constructive criticism, but like I said. Sometimes you just wanna tell some people to relax.
Also curious as to how that makes you guys feel, and how you choose to handle it.
“Excuse you, princess—” the man starts to say, uncrossing his muscled arms.
She sighs, watching the cashier scan her own purchases. “Look, guy, I get it, okay? You’re an independent adult, you can afford your own beer. Whatever, just take it as a favour from a very exhausted fellow customer who just really wants to go home and inhale one of these in, like, fifteen minutes flat,” she says, gesturing towards the two ice cream pints on the counter. She pauses to glance up at the tattooed man still staring her down, offering him a careless shrug. “A little neighbourly kindness, okay?”
“Not familiar with the concept,” he snaps.
Or, the one where Kate somehow always manages to find herself at the same grocery checkout line as a handsome, surly stranger in black.
Everyone should feel beautiful in their own skin. But I get my hair and make up done professionally. For a job. That’s not beauty. That’s make up it’s a curling iron and hairspray. What’s beautiful is inside you.It’s your creativity. It’s your intelligence. Your empathy and your kindness to your fellow man. I could care less about being “pretty” or “perfect” and we should all ask ourselves why in our society that is the “highest” and most common compliment we are paying to our female friends.
Maybe Nursey and Dex flirting at the haus party after the game?
RAD OK THANK YOU
“Did it hurt?”
Dex doesn’t deign to answer that question. Nursey looks up at him with wide eyes from where his head is in Dex’s lap. Apparently Nursey patrol tonight involves lounging sprawled on the couch and distracting his fellow D-man to keep him from dancing on tables and breaking his neck. Dex would complain but it’s kind of nice.
“You’re supposed to say, did what hurt?”
“See, you don’t even really need me,” Dex says.
“It’s more fun if you play along,” Nursey whines. “You’re no fun, Dexy.”
“I’m too sober to flirt with you, Nursey, sorry,” Dex sighs. “I’m sure Bitty’s willing.”
“Bitty’s with Jaaaack,” Nursey says. “He came for a Bit.”
“You make no sense.”
“Did it hurt?”
Dex rolls his eyes and takes a long drink from his beer. He’s not totally sober, but he’s definitely not drunk enough for this.
“Did what hurt?”
“Dexy!” Nursey sits up so fast that he knocks Dex’s cup out of his hand. “You did it! Oh my God!”
“Don’t get too excited,” Dex grumbles at the loss of his drink.
“Ok, ok ok Dexy,” Nursey rearranges himself sloppily so he’s straddled over Dex’s lap. If Dex weren’t already flushed as hell he would have been in trouble. “When you fell from heaven?”
“Oh Lord, you’ve seduced me. Please proceed to take me in a manly fashion.”
Nursey starts giggling uncontrollably into Dex’s neck. He’s heavy and solid in Dex’s lap and Dex can feel his thighs trembling a little.
“You’re so funny, angel,” Nursey hums. His lips are pressed against Dex’s skin and the vibrations thrum along his nerves. “And comfy. Dex, I’m gonna fall asleep.”
“What? No - ” Dex squawks but Nursey has already slumped into him. His breathing evens out immediately and Dex would be amused if he weren’t so irritated at having 200 pounds of stupid hockey player draped over him. “Motherfucker.”
As an anarchist I don’t have much to say on this election; history is a cycle, it’s the same characters, the same general plot, but on a different stage. Every era follows a pattern, society rises, it plateaus, maybe it rises a little bit more, and then it falls. Sometimes to outside influence, sometimes to internal. But always, society rises again- new things are tried, created, learned. And it’s like a phoenix, growing, then burning, then being born anew from the ashes. This may yet be the end of the world as we know it, but it has all happened before and it will all happen again. Since it’s happening now, and here, the ending of the beginning of the fall of the industrial age, we forget that all of this has happened before. And as we enter this new age, I’d like everyone to just remember: be kind, help your fellow man, raise each other up, and do your best to find your own joy.
I have spent the past few days reading all the Jacob Frye reader insert fics I can find. No I haven’t had the chance to play the game yet but when I get my PS4 you know that will be my first game.
I just fell for Jacob hard and fast. I decided to have I little go at my own fic.
So please be kind to me.
Title: All creatures great and small
Pairing: Jacob Frye x Reader.
London was bustling today. You had broken off from your
fellow rooks, as you took a turn onto the water front. You were enjoying the
rare sunshine when you heard it.
“Drown you bloody vermin.” A man in shabby clothes threw a
sack into the river.
“Hey what do you think you are doing?” You yelled after him.
He saw what you were and ran for it.
You tried to run after him but he was too fast. You stopped
and turned to the slowly sinking sack.
What did he throw? You saw the sack move. Something was
alive in there and you were not going to stand by while the poor thing drowned.
You shed you coat and waistcoat before diving in the river.
You swam up to the sack and lifted high above your head as you swam back to the
“A little help somebody?” You hoped someone would take the
sack off you so you could climb out easier.
“Need a hand there love?”
It had to be him didn’t it.
“Hello Jacob. Can you take this sack for me?” You hand it to
him and climb out.
“Going for a morning swim?”
“Haa haa hilarious, give it back please.” He hands you back
the sack and you kneel on the floor to open it.
There was 5 wet kittens crying for their mum.
Your heart melted at the sight.
“Poor little buggers, how did they end up in the river?”
Jacob crouches down in front of you.
“Some arse threw them in. Shit. Who could do such a thing?”
“Some people see them as pests.” He grabs one by the scruff
of its neck and lifts it out of the sack to inspect it further. “They don’t
seem hurt.” The kitten bats at Jacob’s flat cap.
“Good. I need to get them dry.”
“Wait, are you wanting to keep them?”
“What else should I do? Leave them to die in the street or
worse be successfully drowned?”
“I’m not having them on the train.” He put the little ginger
kitten back down.
“Oh come on Jacob. They could be the mascots of the rooks.”
You give your best pleading eyes as you bat your eyelashes.
“Damn it woman, don’t you start.”
“I will buy your drinks for a month?”
“As nice as that sounds. The answer is still no.”
“Oh please Jacob I can’t leave them. I promise I will keep
them out of your sight. Please.” You grip his arm.
“You promise to keep them away from my end of the train?”
“Yes. I will. I can feed and care for them.” You stare
hopefully into his eyes.
Jacob sighs as he stands up straight.
“Fine. You can keep them but if I see them anywhere near me
they will be off the train faster than you can say god save the queen.”
“You got it.” You gather your clothes together and cradle the
sack as you make your way to the train.
“I better not see them (y/n)” He calls after you.
You look over your shoulder and throw him a wink and run off
in the direction of the station.
*One week later*
You were frantically search behind the bar. You were one
kitten short. A little black kitten that could more often or not be found
behind there but he was no were to be seen.
You had to find him before Jacob did. You had already
checked the last carriage of the train and he was nowhere to be found in the
third carriage. You could only imagine that he had managed to sneak to the
front on the train.
Shit. You told your fellow rooks to take care of the others
while you went looking for the missing one.
You crept quietly into the second carriage. Evie was sat
reading a book. You froze to the spot.
“Can I help you with something (y/n)?” Evie marked her place
in her book and put it down next to her.
“Oh hello Miss Frye. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I just .
. . I”
“How many times have I told you to call me Evie. Let me
guess the little black kitten has gone missing again?”
“It’s the third time this week. I can’t find him anywhere
have you seen him?”
“I think I saw him in the next carriage with Jacob.”
“What? No you have to be joking he will make me get rid of
them.” You ran fast to the next carriage only to be stopped by a sight you didn’t
think you would ever see.
Jacob was laid on his stomach with a piece of string in one
hand dangling it over the little black kitten.
He was playing with him.
You cleared you throat. Jacob sat up fast.
“Oh (y/n) Urm I wasn’t expecting you. I mean what did I say
if I saw these kittens in the front of the train.”
You started laughing. The sight in front of you was just too
“Why Mr Frye I do believe you have a soft side.”
“Ok enough of that. Just take the cat and go.”
“Oh wait till I tell everyone about this.” You picked up the bundle of fluff and made your way out.
Jacob jumped up off the floor and blocked your path.
“What will it take to keep you silent about this.”
“Buy a girl a drink?” You smirked at him.
“Well it is a start.”
“Are you going to hold it over my head forever?”
“I haven’t decided yet. We will start with a drink and go
from there.” You hold the kittens paw make him wave goodbye. “It’s funny this
kitten keeps finding you. He’s called Jacob too.”
“You named him after me?”
“Of course I did. He is my favourite of the bunch. See you
at the pub later for that drink.”
You felt a flabbergasted Jacob alone with his thoughts.
Alistair/Warden is my oxygen. So sweet, so dangerously reactive. I’ll get back to that.
I’m shocked there’s so little Kaliyo love in the fandom. Her awful-girlfriend act is at once paint-by-numbers (now she tries to make you jealous and gets pissed if you don’t!) and beautiful. She’s an objectively awful human being but her romance is the best kind of bad idea. Please, validate the man who fell head over heels at exactly the wrong time.
I have finished Origins seven times and never romanced Morrigan. Resist Alistair’s charms by rolling male, you say? That still leaves Zevran. It’s a vicious trap.
That said, I like Morrigan’s friendship, and I imagine turning that slightly askew might be nice. It definitely seems more healthy than coercing your fellow Warden into the ritual. So, great lore, I just lack the strength to walk that path.
maybe you think i’m talking about physical love. well, i’m not. not just physical love. there’s other kinds of love. like love of… justice. love of… legal procedure. love of lending a hand to someone who really needs you. love of your fellow man. those kinds of love are what I’m talkin’ about. and physical love ain’t so bad either.
I don’t understand why there are people around me who seem to think that the cause of racism is because of the black culture. Racism is a problem that is within you. A problem that is frankly, kind of scary. Do you not have emotions? Do you not any empathy for your fellow man? How can you look at at another human as being below you based completely on the fact that their skin is a different color? No offense, but you have to see why we are angry about this, you are acting childish and ignorant.
Getting compliments is wonderful and everyone should feel beautiful in their own skin. But I get my hair and make up done professionally. For a job. That’s not beauty. That’s make up it’s a curling iron and hairspray. What’s beautiful is inside you. It’s your creativity. It’s your intelligence. Your empathy and your kindness to your fellow man. I could care less about being “pretty” or “perfect” and we should all ask ourselves why in our society that is the “highest” and most common compliment we are paying to our female friends.
Dear Moffat haters: if someone makes a post, a personal post that has nothing to do with you about how they met Steven Moffat and he’s a lovely man and his writing saved their life– go away. It’s not a conversation for you. It’s not a debate. It’s not up for discussion.
Everyone who has ever met Moffat, from fans to cast and crew to fellow writers, has said he’s humble, kind, and funny. I have never heard anyone who has met him say a bad word against him. So unless you met him, and he killed your dog, shut the fuck up about how awful he is.
And that he saved someone’s life? That’s a fact. That’s not up for interpretation. It’s like me saying my favorite book as a kid was the Magic Treehouse book about the snow leopards. You can say that one of the other books in the series was better, I don’t give a shit. That book wasn’t my favorite as a child. You can’t say “you’re wrong” about a fact.
And lastly? You showing up unwanted to be like “um actually he’s extremely problematic” is fucking rude. No one cares, and no one asked. No one thinks he’s perfect but no, a lot of us don’t think he’s particularly sexist. And I don’t give a shit what you think because your arguments are bad and either way, this is not the time or place. Showing up to be like “well Doctor Who saved my life too but it was Jack and Rose who made me feel important”. Congratulations. The answer to a question I never fucking asked. Save your story for your own post. Go away.
Jesus Christ it’s like an uglier, more disgusting Navi. “Hey! Steven Moffat is sexist! Hey! Steven Moffat is sexist! Hey! Hey! Problematic!”
1.) Shipping a white fave with the nearest WHITE male who fucking hurt her, tortured her and never did anything good to her just because you can’t insert yourself with a black man who is kind and amazing anyways.
2.) Making anonymous posts about how “Finn is 40 years old piece of coal” “don’t ship my beautiful Rey with a monkey” “coal boy will die and Rey will marry kylo” —- that is fucking racist. There’s literally 0 reasons for Finn to die. Kylo has 100.
3.) NEVER calling out your fellow racist reylos — in other words you’re tolerating racism. Which makes you one also. I’ve never seen reylos call out other reylos on racism.
4.) If kylo was black and Finn was white you would ~obviously ship Finn with Rey & reylo wouldn’t even exist
You’re just fucking racist asshats who don’t deserve to be in the star wars fandom.
Getting compliments is wonderful and everyone should feel beautiful in their own skin. But I get my hair and make up done professionally. For a job. That’s not beauty. That’s make up it’s a curling iron and hairspray. What’s beautiful is inside you. It’s your creativity. It’s your intelligence. Your empathy and your kindness to your fellow man.
Hollywood is like high school and like in high school, I’m never going to be the popular girl and I’m one hundred and ten percent okay with that. I don’t want to be the popular girl. The popular girl can never say anything wrong; she can’t mess up; she can’t be seen as anything other than a goddess on the highest of pedestals and not one hair can be out of place. I’d rather be real and fuck up and have the messiest hair, because let’s face it, my hair is a wild lion’s mane. I’d rather be Troian who has the best friends in the world who speak up when I can’t find the words. You may not be able to stand my face or my personality but thank God you’re not the only person in this world.
Also, insulting the way somebody looks is a laughable insult because haven’t people learned that beauty is what’s inside you; your creativity, your intelligence, your empathy and your kindness to your fellow man. You know what’s hot? A huge heart and a beautiful soul. Keegan Allen, you have that in spades, and you didn’t deserve that to be said about you because none of it is true. Nobody should be made to feel small just because they don’t fit what is someone else’s standardized ideals of beauty. Have an awesome week, every one. I know mine is starting off perfectly.
Maybe you think i'm talking about physical love. well, I'm not. Not just physical love. There's other kinds of love. Like love of...justice. Love of... legal procedure. Love of lending a hand to someone who really needs you. Love of your fellow man. Those kinds of love are what I'm talkin' about. And physical love ain't so bad either.
I can totally relate to this guy. I feel that.
TITLE: Mr Evans CHAPTER NO/ ONE SHOT: Chapter two AUTHOR: Admin RCN ORGINAL IMAGINE/SUMMARY: Tall, handsome, clever, kind. Everything a girl can look for in a man. But what happens when you meet your soul mate and it turns out he is your English Professor at University. NOTES/WARNINGS: My spell check is broken so please ignore my many spelling mistakes because I suck at it aha
You sat there and scribbled down your notes. The room was silent except for his voice echoing off of the walls and the occasional cough from a fellow student. You looked over at Ivy to double check you had written down a quote correctly when you saw she had written nothing and was watching Chris with her mouth slightly open.
“Ivy?” You whispered to her so only she could hear you. “Ivy, are you ok?” She seemed to break out of her day dream and tore her eyes away from the tall, blonde man to look at you. Giving you a small nod, she turned back to staring. You giggled silently to yourself at how lost she was but looking around the room, everyone else seemed the same. All the girls were staring at him like he was perfect. Your gay male class-mate also. Even the straight men were looking at him like he was gold found in the slums.
“I have never taught such a nice, quiet class.” Chris said cheerily, looking around at the students and giving each one a smile. When he smiled at you, you couldn’t help but return the gesture, forming a red glow to rise in your cheeks. “I know we still have ten minutes left but you can all go to lunch early. At this rate we will finish the day extremly early anyway.” As soon as he finished his sentence, everyone rushed to get their bags and grab their wallets so they could get their lunch before everyone else. However, neither you nor Ivy had any money for lunch so took your time until it was just you two and Chris in the room.
“How are you ladies enjoying the lesson so far?” You heard the familiar voice from behind you. You turned around and looked up towards the handsome face, the red now returning.
“It’s brilliant, I love it. You’re such an amazing teacher. I love you.” Ivy rushed before she thought. Chris raised his eyebrows and looked shocked at what she said and Ivy realised but it was now too late to take it back. “I-I mean I…I love you as a teacher…not…” She didn’t even bother to try and correct herself any more and instead decided to scatter from the room, her face now looking like a tomato and you could see her visibly shaking.
“Your class mate sure is, how do I say…”
“Weird?” You finished his sentence, causing Chris to give a small laugh that you were certain you would never get bored of.
“That’s exactly what I was trying to say.” You noticed his eyes travel a bit further southwards before his hand rose and took the pendent from your necklace between his fingers. “I love your necklace. Saphire?” You nodded.
“It’s my birthstone. Virgo baby.” You said a bit awkwardly. “It’s actually my birthday in a few days!” You continued, mainly just to keep the convorsation going. His face lit up and he let go of your necklace.
“You should have said something earlier. I’ll add your birthday present to my shopping list.” He gave a small wink and you quickly began to protest but it ended with him simply raising his end in gesture for you to stop talking. “Anyway, you should probably get to lunch.” He said, moving out of your way so you could get past.
“Thanks!” You said before leaving his room. You already felt a lot more confident around him but your palms were still sweaty and heart was beating a lot more than it usually did.
“Ivy!” You called, seeing your new friend sitting on the stairs leading up to the building. She jumped slightly and stood up, opening her arms before giving you a hug.
“I can’t believe I said that!” She worried, still hugging you. You awkwardly patted her on the back and looked around, not knowing what to say. You were never very good at comforting people. “What did I expect him to say? ’I love you too, Ivy’.” She finally let go and looked at you with a curious expression. “What were you doing in there? You left like, ten minutes after me.”
“We were just talking.” You shrugged before going to the steps Ivy was just seated at. She jogged to join you and continued to press the matter.
“Talk about what?”
“Just my necklace.” You laughed at her expression of disbelief.
“You had him all to yourself and you spoke about a necklace?” She said, genuingly shocked.
“Yes…” You shook your head at her childishness and stood up once more. “I have my credit card on me. Fancy some Mcdonalds?” You asked, checking your bag just to double check you did have it on you.
“Was that a serious question?” Ivy giggled, already walking away towards the restaurant.
You walked back into the class with a drink in your hand and phone in the other. You were five minutes early but Ivy had seen her old friend and was now gossping with her, making you feel like a third wheel. You typed your message to your mum since you had been neglecting that task since the night before but because your eyes were fixed on that, you failed to notice the tall, handsome man who was focused on trying to juggle three rather large folders.
“Shit…Watch where you’re going, Y/N.” Chris said with a large smile as he looked up just in time to dodge you. You looked up from your phone and once again the small blush returned to your cheeks.
“I-I’m sorry I assumed you’d be out during lunch break!” You stuttered. He nodded his head towards the folders.
“I usually stay in here all lunch but today I had to go pick up these bad boys.” He sighed, walking over to his desk and throwing them down, making a large bang. He then popped himself up on the desk as well and sat there looking at you. “Why are you here so early?” You gave him a shrug and put your phone in your pocket. Your mum could wait.
“I feel uncomfortable around people I don’t really know.” You shrugged. “So I thought I’d sit in here instead. It’s nice in here.”
“So you already feel comfortable around me? I’m honoured.” He said with a glint in his eye. You raised your eyebrows and gave a nervous giggle, making sure you were giving him eye contact.
“I do feel pretty confident actually. You’re an easy person to be around.” Chris stood and put his hands in his suit pockets.
“I am going to take this as a pretty big compliment from a girl like you.” He said softly as he walked closer to you.
“Girl like me?” You questioned, your heart rate getting quicker and quicker with each step he took towards you.
“Clever, ambitious, friendly and” He stopped walking when you were able to feel his breath on your face, just a few inches between you two. “beautiful.” You looked up at his bright blue eyes and felt your legs starting to feel weak, your breath became rigged and your mouth dry. You could see him fighting a mental battle about what to do next but before he could, the classroom door burst open and the three popular girls, Jessica, Annie and Miranda, walked in. “So we won’t be learning Shakespeare until next term but it’s good that you’re enthustiatic about it!” Chris said with a panicked expression and quickly took a step back from you. The three girls shot you both weird looks and Chris ran his hands through his hair, the embarressment clear in his face. “I have to go return these.” Chris said, grabbing a random piece of paper from his desk and leaving.
“You little whore.” Jessica said, walking up to you with her heels clicking on the floor with each step. You looked at her and had to force yourself not to laugh. She did look rather hilarious with her orange face and ratty hair extensions. “He is mine!” She walked right up to you and tried to stand above you to seem intimidating but even with her heels, you were both the same height. “And if I get bored, either Miranda or Annie can have him. But he’s not yours.” She turned and left the room, her minions following her closely behind. As soon as they left, Ivy walked in.
“Where are they going? Class starts in like, two minutes.” Ivy said confused. You walked up to your seat and tapped hers to indicate for her to sit.