because you look like this


🎤vroom vroom show season 3? oh no!

Sun people

There are some people, very few, who have sun inside them.  It’s hard to explain.  Their presence just brightens up your fucking world.  It’s not about beautiful smiles.  They have an internal being that sheds light and feels like sun on your cool face.  It’s a calm energy.  An inner peace.  A confidence in self.  An acceptance of their story.  But most importantly, it’s not wanting anything back, especially approval and validation.  It’s water.   I am definitely not one of those people.  But I want to be, and of course would love to have more of those people in my life.  Not to just soak up their sun.  But because they check you and show you what happy looks like.  As long as you make a choice to notice.

The older I get, the more I want to be one of them.  And I don’t know how much of that sun is nature or nurture.  Like most people, I didn’t grow up in a happy family.  I grew up in a stressful family and I wonder how much of that stress I tied to my worth.  The residue of that is the life we create and no matter how much you have or think you have, you will never be happy if self love isn’t where you start building.

We all know external things don’t make you happy.  And we all know that sometimes happiness is a choice.  You have to build it out.  But if you want to be a sun person, happy has to be ingrained in who you are.  

Everything starts with awareness.  Then a choice.  This is no difference.

I’m over the Porsche.

I want to be a sun person.

Requested - Arthur Shelby x Reader (Daughter)

Request: Anonymous -  Can you please do a peaky blinders imagine for Arthur where you were a baby of one of his whores, that he didn’t know you existed until he ran into you at a club in London and knew you were of Shelby blood because you look like his mother and Ada

GIF Source:


The club was completely packed, not unusual for a Friday night. You broke away from the friends that you’d come with, heading over toward the bar. You called the bartender over, waiting patiently as he held up a hand to signal that he would be over in a moment.

You swayed a little to the music, enjoying the atmosphere of the London club. The bartender made his way over, taking your order and fixing your drink. You payed the man, taking a sip of your vodka-tonic before heading back through the bustling crowd back to your group.

Halfway there, you bumped right into a tall man, wearing a tailored suit and a peaked cap. You swore you saw a glint on the edge of his cap, but you put it down to your tipsiness.

“I’m so sorry!” You yelled over the booming music, looking up at the stranger as he gripped your elbow to save you from falling on your face. His eyes were locked on yours, making you feel a little uncomfortable.

This man was looking at you as if he knew you and you shifted nervously under his gaze. You cleared your throat, waiting for him to say something, his hand still resting on your elbow.

He shook his head, seemingly in a daze and removed his hand. “No problem.” He said, still looking at you through narrowed eyes, as if you were familiar. He smoothed his suit down, taking a small step back.

You smiled politely before heading back to your friends. You resumed your dancing, aware that the stranger had not taken his eyes off of you. You felt a little unnerved; you couldn’t understand what the man’s interest was with you.

He took a table with his companions, two others, situated where he could keep his gaze fixed on you as you danced and drank with your friends. He never took his eyes off of you, even when the club began to empty; he stayed, watching you all the while.

Eventually, he had begun to make you feel so uneasy that you decided to confront him. You walked over to his table, leaning down when you reached it to speak into his ear. “Can I talk to you?” You asked. He nodded as he stood, following you out the side door of the club.

When you were outside, you spun around to face him. “What’s your problem?” You accused, folding your arms. He sighed, removing his cap to run his fingers through his hair before setting it back on his head.

You raised an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. He gave you an apologetic look before he spoke.

“I’m sorry if I upset you.” He began, holding his hands up in defense. Your shoulders fell slightly; you felt a little better now that he had apologized for creeping you out so much. “You just look so familiar.” He told you honestly.

You tilted your head, but kept quiet, allowing him to continue. “What’s your name?” He asked you.

An unsettling feeling crept over you and you bit your lip slightly, unsure whether to tell the stranger the truth or not. You decided that if he was going to hurt you, he could do it with or without your name, so you told him. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

His eyes widened upon hearing your mother’s maiden name. You had never met your father, but your mother had told you that he didn’t care for you, so you had just accepted it.

“You’re (Y/M/N)’s daughter?” He asked, astonished. You nodded slowly, wondering how he had known your mother’s name. You narrowed your eyes, suspicious of this man. However, you thought he might know something about your father, who you were more than curious about, so you decided to hear him out.

“How do you know my mother?” You asked him, stepping back slightly, still aware that you were taking to a stranger in an alley. He gave you a look of reassurance before answering.

“Hear me out, kid.” He began, leaning against the wall of the club. He pulled his wallet out from his pocket, showing you some pictures of two women. “That’s my mother,” he said, pointing to the first picture.

You studied the woman’s face, wondering why he was showing you photos of his mother. You nodded, looking at the next picture. “That’s my little sister.” He told you. The second picture was of a woman who looked so much like you, you could have been twins.

Your breath caught in your throat, as you realized what the man was suggesting. Your eyes began to sting as tears began forming, and you started shaking your head in disbelief.

“I think I’m your dad, (Y/N).” He said, tears pooling in his eyes as well.

it’s not even that i’m dwelling on ppl being wrong i literally don’t care about other opinions but the bane of my existence is that i still just see it at surface level…even tho this stuff was hard to stomach at first and there are still questions overall i feel like the resolutions are clear as day and now we play the waiting game… i understand everything except how to land… so i’m so sick of thinking about it but when i DO it’s just like “SO……SO HERE IT IS…….HERE IT IS………………BUT WE’RE STILL FUCKING LIVING LIKE THIS HUH!!!!!?!!‘vnvn??!!??!??!???? IM BEING FORCED TO INDEFINITELY……LIVE LIKE THIS????????!??!?!” and there’s nothing to say to ppl who think the show tanked because what can you do??? of course it looks like it tanked MY tv show isn’t SPECIAL…but i’m just IT’S ALL HERE!!!!!!! IT’S STILL HERE YOUVE PLAYED YOJR TWISTED GAME YOU SICK BASTARDS… *I* KNOW

low empathy probs:
- liking ur friends but also being able to completely cut them off and not care whatsoever
- people are super upset when you don’t care about genetic ties, for whatever reason? family members don’t get a special Empathy Deal
- violence is entertaining and I don’t understand why we all have to pretend like we don’t like it. the demand for slasher flicks and true crime documentaries didn’t arise from nothing
- not giving the appropriate reaction when someone is hurt and looking like A Monster ™ because you don’t wanna be a fake bitch
- practicing crying ( if u hold ur eyes open for 7 or so seconds it usually works ! )
- news of disasters or deaths that do not directly affect you are boring. we all saw it on the news we get it move on
- getting into arguments for Funsies and not understanding why the other person is so upset

As we all know, all skating routines in Yuri on Ice have their own meaning and are crucial to understanding the characters and to their development. In this post, I’d like to talk about the meaning of Yuuri’s Free Skate program in episode 9 and how it relates to the rest of the episode because it’s actually really important to the rest of the episode and also because… well, let’s just say the actual meaning of the events we’ve seen might just be sadder than what we initially thought.

This will be a long post so I shall welcome you under the cut and I leave you with these two screenshots deliberately placed together so as to pique your interest.

Keep reading


TBT the time Paul McCartney sang “Michelle” in the White House and the President of the United States was like a high school teenager with a crush.[x] 


Just listen to these boys harmonize!!! BtoB are SO Talented!

What a happy kiddo!!!!!

(@thecelticassassin - Mob in C1!!)