become remarkable


“I’m a huge fan of everything comic book, in general. But especially with someone like her [Barbara Gordon], its different. Every origin story is so different. A lot of people have experienced a major tragedy, for her its like-her father is an incredible-Commissioner Gordon who works with Batman and bridges the divide between vigilante justice and judicial justice. And to know that she grew up looking at these two men that she admired and be able to grow into their roles. That inspiration allow her to match it. But she does it in her own way. She doesn’t compromise herself to do it. She’s not perfectly emulating them. She’s taking that inspiration and living through herself-she’s remarkable. She becomes commissioner and she’s Batgirl. And she’s badass in both roles.” — Rosario Dawon (the voice of Batgirl in The Lego Batman Movie)


“I’m just one gigantic ball of rancid fear and self-consciousness. I’m entirely fueled by fear, so the fact that I knew it could be a catastrophic disaster made me unable to sleep, and made me work quite hard.” — Eddie Redmayne, b. January 6, 1982

People become really quite remarkable when they start thinking that they can do things. When they believe in themselves they have the first secret of success.
—  Norman Vincent Peale
“Sorry for not believing in you“

(A/N): I‘ve always wanted to write a soulmate AU, so this is a big deal for my crippling author career. Enjoy x 

Words: 2,062

Originally posted by tylerandthejosephs

The air is like frozen lace on your skin, delicate and cold. The sky is washed with grey, watery light illuminating thin patches to brilliance. That special cold and pale light, only the winter‘s sun can give, makes everything glow with slippery ice. It‘s the perfect day for staying home but sadly, you had to work today. You‘re seated at the bus stop with both arms crossed over your chest, hugging your body, as if that could provide you with some kind of warmth. 

All of sudden you see a woman getting dragged by her poodle towards another dog owner across the street and as expected, they collide. The man has lost his hat due to the incident, causing a royal blue strand on his head to become visible and remarkably stand out from the rest of his hair. Instantly noticing the phenomenon, the lady lets a loud gasp escape her lips and urgently draws the guy‘s attention to her streak of hair, that coincidentally has the exact same pigment as his. The next thing that happens is acted out just like in the movies, the lovers jump into each other‘s arms and share a passionate kiss as they pull away. At the same time, the royal blue pieces of hair from each one of them loose their colour and blend into the rest. Eventually, it seems like the scenery has turned out to be the complete opposite of a simple coincidence. Oh, the things you‘d do to finally experience the same spectacle…When will it finally be your turn to find your soulmate?

Keep reading

Coming Home to Me

On the day they met, Dean Winchester is four years old.  Emblazoned on the front of his light blue teddy T-shirt are the words I Wuv Hugz, and everyone who’s ever met Dean can verify the accuracy of this statement.

Everyone who’s ever met his new neighbor, Castiel Novak, knows the opposite is true.  It’s 1983, and though terms like Asperger’s Syndrome and touch aversion have yet to seep into public consciousness, Cas had been sure to convey his displeasure to anyone who’s ever tried to hug him without his explicit consent.

As such, both the boys’ parents watch with considerable apprehension as Dean toddles up to the newcomer, ready to bestow upon him the signature Winchester greeting. 

He throws his pudgy arms around Castiel’s slight shoulders, squeezing him as tightly as his little body will allow. 

Castiel’s haggard single mother, Naomi, squeezes her eyes shut and braces herself for the ear-splitting wail that is sure to follow.  To her surprise, there is none.  

Instead, when she dares to look again, Cas is, for the first time in his short life, expressing physical affection, his thin arms wrapped delicately around Dean’s shoulders.  

In a voice so soft no one but Dean can hear it, Castiel murmurs, “Hello, Dean.” 

It’s now 1988.

Dean Winchester is nine years old, down a parent, and up a…well, he’s hesitant to refer to Cas as like a brother, though adults in his life have described it as such.  It just feels wrong to him, for reasons he has yet to put his finger on. 

Regardless, Cas has become remarkably close, mostly because his mother – a single parent, struggling to make ends meet – is almost never home.  As his closest neighbors and closest friends, Cas ends up spending more time at the Winchesters’ house than he does at his own.  

Dean still wuvs hugz, though he’s now less willing to admit to such, and Cas, miracle of all miracles, still never fails to return them.  Indeed, Dean is one of the few people Cas will willingly touch.

At present, the boys are cuddled up on Dean’s lower bunk while young Sammy snoozes above them, a rerun of the Three Stooges buzzing on Dean’s fuzzy, black-and-white TV set.  

99% of the time, Cas doesn’t understand the humor, fails to see the amusement in watching three people brutalize one another.  But he enjoys hearing Dean laugh, the feel of his warm breath against the back of his neck.  It makes him feel comforted.  

It makes him feel home. 

Contentedly, Cas closes his eyes.  He’s just drifting off when he hears Dean say, “Oh.  Hi, Daddy.” 

For some reason, he sounds nervous.  

When Cas blinks open his eyes, he sees why:  John is standing in the doorway, glowering at them, a strange sort of contempt darkening his glassy eyes.  He’s yards away from them, leaning in the doorless entryway to the boys’ room, but Cas can smell the pungent stench of alcohol wafting off of him.

“You boys’re too old to be doin’ that,” is all he mutters, before staggering away and leaving the confused duo with the vague but pervasive sense that they’ve done something wrong.  

Cas glances over at Dean, who’s now worrying his lower lip and won’t meet his eyes.  

Cas pats his hand.  “My mommy smells that way when she gets sad,” he offers. 

For some reason, it seems to help.

It’s now 1996, and in that very same room, the boys are having a slumber party.  Of course, they’re not allowed to call it a slumber party, because they’re boys over the age of twelve, and rules of social conduct dictate that it be called hanging out.

But, essentially, it was a slumber party.

Cas skipped a grade, while Dean was held back one, and as such, they haven’t seen as much of one another as either party would have liked.  

Still, Dean is popular, and surprisingly, so is Cas:  yes, he’s undeniably nerdy and not a little weird, but there’s an inherent niceness to him that makes him a pleasant person to be around.

Dean has had the pleasure of witnessing this all evening, as Cas interacts with Charlie, with Gabe, with Kevin and Garth and Benny, and even the little gray mixed breed that recently followed Sam home.  Regardless of what is being said, Cas listens to each of them with his undivided attention, head nodding, blue eyes wide with interest. 

Dean is content, for once, to quietly observe, witnessing his friend for the first time through the others’ eyes.

Later that night, however, when they line the floor like sleeping caterpillars in their multicolored sleeping bags, Dean once again has Cas all to himself, facing one another in the bunk they’d shared all those years ago.  

There’s a flutter in their chests that wasn’t there before, a not-entirely-unpleasant sensation that neither one can place. 

Years later, Dean won’t remember what it was Cas was saying.  He’ll only remember the soft, gravelly rasp of his voice, his crystalline blue eyes as they stared so intently into his own.  

He’ll remember how soft his chapped, full lips felt as he found himself kissing them, the tickle of his faint stubble.

He’ll remember the instant he pulled away, and the long moment in which they just silently stared, a million wordless protests racing through their minds:  it’s the mid-nineties, and the heat of the AIDs epidemic is still fresh in the public’s memory.  It’s by no means a good time to be gay, or anything close it.

More than anything, he’ll remember the exact moment he decided he didn’t care, that nothing in the world mattered more than having Castiel’s lips against his own.

He’ll remember the instant Cas silently agreed with him when he kissed back. 

It’s 2002. 

Cas is going to medical school.  Sam is going to college. 

Dean is going overseas.  

In the end, he really doesn’t have a choice in the matter:  he never had gotten his high school diploma, weighed down by the burden of being his family’s full-time emotional (and ultimately, financial) provider. 

He’d tried so hard to juggle the two, coming home straight after school everyday to clean up and make dinner, to fill the role his mother had vacated when she’d died of cancer years before, and helping Sammy with his homework every evening before he even got started on his own.

He eventually had to give up and drop out of school entirely when John left them, and he had to get a full time job at his Uncle Bobby’s garage just to make ends meet.

But never once had Dean given up on the hope of making his life meaningful, of helping others and saving lives. 

When he was younger, he’d wanted to go to nursing or medical school, perhaps become a paramedic, but as a high school flunky with five bucks to his name, this option is out for the time being. 

So really, his only option is overseas.

Cas knew this, and he knows he should have prepared himself better.  Yet this does little to stop the tears from falling as he holds his fiance’s hands, freshly gifted engagement rings glinting in the evening sun.

Dean smiles that goofy, crooked smile, puts on a brave face as he wipes the tears away.  

“Hey, now,” he says, chuckling painfully.  “Ain’t we talked about this, angel?  You know I don’t do chick-flick moments.”

Cas smiles faintly, nearly argues that Dean loves chick-flicks and they both know it, but he finds he doesn’t have it in him for their usual, lighthearted banter.  

“Promise me you’ll come home,”  he says instead.  

For a moment, Dean’s facade falters, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.  Still, his smile remains fixedly – painfully – in place.  

“I promise, angel,” he whispers.

Eighteen months later, Dean comes home.  Or rather, most of him does.  

They’ll both realize, with time, that Dean lost a part of himself overseas, and it wasn’t just the tip of his now-stubby left pinky finger that he’ll forever use to give Sam wet willies for maximum gross-out factor.  It wasn’t just the majority of the flesh of his left arm and ribcage, that took the brunt of the damage when the bomb went off, the drum-tight, pinkish scar tissue there to remind him whenever he examines himself shirtless in the bathroom mirror.

It’s something intangible, that will make itself evident the first time he ushers Cas away from their bedroom window, mind already anticipating the crackle of bullets and the shattering of class.  The first time he wakes up, heart pounding, to the crashing of a garbage truck or early summer fireworks, every instinct screaming for him to find shelter.  

Dean knows he lost something overseas, a part of himself he’ll never fully be able to recover.

But he’ll be okay.  They both will.  

In time, he’ll finally get his GED.  He’ll go to community college, and then, to nursing school, finally able to fulfill his dream of saving lives, helping others in his own way.  

He and Cas will get married in the fall, and though it will take years of convincing on Cas’s end, convincing that Dean will not become a replica of his father, they’ll have kids:  Claire and Ben, adopted two years apart.  Dean will be startled by how completely they feel like his own.  

They’ll be okay.  In spite of it all, they’ll be okay.  Life will go on, and it will be a good one.

But for now, all that matters is here at the airport, searching the crowd for that messy head of raven hair he knows is waiting for him.  

His heart skips a beat when he finally spots it.  

The years have been good to Castiel.  His shoulders visibly broader beneath his usual beige trench, a veritable sea of stubble framing the familiar, chapped lips.  Eyes, somehow bluer than Dean remembered them, widened when they met his own.  

Dean swallowed.  Make no mistake, Cas had always been gorgeous, but now…damn.

For a moment, the two just stare at each other, neither sure what to say.  

Finally, Dean chuckles wetly.  “Angel,” he huffs, with his best attempt at a cocky smile.  “You’re…you’re all grown up.”

Castiel says nothing.  Wordlessly, he moves forward, strong arms enveloping Dean’s shoulders.  Dean rests his head in the crook of his neck, breathing in a shaky, relieved breath as he feels the familiar prickle of stubble, taking in the clean, soapy scent he hadn’t known how much he’d missed.  It makes him feel comforted.  

It feels like home. 

A soft, gravelly voice rasps gently in his ear,  “Hello, Dean.”                  

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exile-wrath  asked:

:O what's your beef with trans!fic? I am curious

me: i can sound like an asshole when i talk about this, so maybe i should–

keep in mind, this is all my opinion! you are welcome to disagree!  please don’t take this personally, i’m not calling anyone out, i just want to discuss some broad things i’ve seen in fic, and why it makes me hesitant to read, or very critical of, trans narratives.  so, trans!fic! my problems with trans!fic typically boil down to a number of things:

  • a majority of trans!fic is written in the same style as an origin story. this inherently suggests that this is the major, defining narrative of someone’s life, as everything is typically written with every life event influenced or framed by transition.  i think this really reduces a character to a single dimension, and suggesting that a trans person’s life is exclusively about their transition is kind of degrading.  
  • transition is often seen as this dramatic thing.  “i’m misunderstood, because i’m trans.” “no one will love me, because i’m trans.”  and i hate seeing this narrative and mindset in stories, but also self-perpetuated within the trans community.  transition can be a positive thing, and it should be celebrated.  
    •  i was linked to this lovely article that goes in depth about a lot of things, including how the transmasculine community itself can and does bolster the harmful idea that “the way things are” suggest that trans people are lucky to find anyone at all.  a majority of the trans people i know IRL are in very happy, loving relationships, a majority of them with cis people whose sexual identity assumes their partner is also cis.  
    • i think about how movies like “Boys Don’t Cry,” which are based off of true stories, are celebrated, and suddenly the public consciousness thinks, “this is a narrative that must be celebrated.”  i think this is a good example of how we have to be more critical of our media intake and challenge ourselves to find new, more unique, yet still real and true narratives to pursue and celebrate.  this isn’t an idea that we should let fester, because we’ve already begun to internalize it.  “i’m unloveable because i’m trans.” fuck that.  i might be unloveable because i’m an asshole, or because i fart too much in front of my girlfriend, or because i’m a messy drunk, but it has nothing to do with my gender identity.  
  • a lot of stories featuring trans!narratives, written by both cis and trans writers, are really poorly researched.  i feel like people rely too much on basic knowledge of the transition process, and think (for example, a transmale): okay, you cut your hair, you get on hormones, Things Change, you get surgery, ????, profit.  and that seems to be the outline of literally EVERY FIC.  but not only that, the characters all seem to be making the same decisions, having the same reactions, and experiencing the same changes as they do in every other fic.  every trans body and the way they experience transition, dysphoria, whatever! is different.  when i see a character going through transition, i want to see them making decisions on hormones, surgeries, etc. based on their character, their profession, their life, and i want those things to be EXTREMELY well researched, if you HAVE to get into it (and you don’t– you can literally write about a trans character without writing about ANY of those experiences, and yet.)  again, it feels like people rely too much on the bare elements of the transition experience and their stories in turn go through character erasure, and then the aspects of the transition become less remarkable, less believable, less emotionally poignant, less weighted.  
  • and aGAIN, you don’t have to write about any aspect of transitioning to write about trans characters!  for many people, the way that they interact with their gender identity, especially if they’ve already made steps towards transitioning, doesn’t feature predominately in their life.  
  • on the flipside of that, dysphoria changes shape.  transitioning isn’t a linear thing.  
  • an anon sent me this amazing post, which concisely describes a lot of my gripes as: 2-dimensional “xe transed nonbinarily down the stairs” issuefic, which LMAO ACCURATE
  • where are the stories where people trans people are doing things without reflecting on their Gender Angst or Body Awareness or transition, like??? there are so many potential stories out there. endless.  for the same reason i write m/m fanfiction out of lack of mainstream stories featuring gay characters and gay relationships except when it’s ABOUT being gay or coming out, do i want to see just like, a trans!office!AU.  fuck it, why not?
  • i don’t even want to get into how trans bodies are fetishized and romanticized in a way that really, really creeps me out, and makes me angry (typically just characterizing men as hypermasc women, for example).  there are a lot of assumptions made about trans bodies, especially when writing smut, and then i just have to back out of that fic, and set my computer on fire, and my whole apartment on fire, and move to another state and start a new identity.

in closing, i will always be hesitant to read trans!fic, and above are some of the more common reasons why.  i just like to ask that people question why they want to write a trans narrative, and what they are hoping to achieve through that.  at the same time, i understand there are a lot of young authors out there exploring their gender identity and getting it out through fic, which i respect! but what i’m seeing is just that very narrow experience, like it’s been sliced away from the rest of a person and laid on a slide.  it’s just a sliver of a human identity and experience that maybe adds another interesting layer, but not always, and only so much of life can be informed by that single experience.  be diverse.  celebrate happy narratives. get creative. 

Thor & Loki ficlet

Had a random idea, wrote it down. Thor and Loki talk about Frigga, sometime post-canon, after they’ve reconciled. 627 words.

Thor and Loki were ambling (in truth, half-stumbling) back to their bedchamber from a convivial evening of feasting and jesting with their friends when Loki turned toward Thor to make some playful remark. Before he could begin to speak, Thor caught him by the shoulder with an air of urgency.

“In this light I can really see it,” he said abruptly. “You have Mother’s eyes.”

Loki’s quizzical expression was at once replaced with a stricken one. “That’s impossible and we both know it,” he said, his voice sharp and brittle. “Skuld have mercy… if I have to remind you of that every time you’re drunk, then I swear by the Tree, you’ll never drink again.”

Thor was shaking his head frantically. “No, no, I didn’t mean… I know it can’t be – what you thought I meant. I meant… your eyes are expressive the way hers were. They have the exact same glint when you’re feeling mischievous, the same crinkle when you smile, the same depth of… of undeniable intelligence. It’s almost like I can see her looking out of your eyes. And laughing at me. But kindly.” Thor realized he was rambling only semi-coherently and stopped himself with an apologetic smile.

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aquarianvalentine submitted: Alternate denizen presentation

“Hi there. I’ve been making a Sburb session for my friends, and I’ve gotten to the Denizen, and I had an alternate idea than what the comic showed us of how to introduce the denizen, a way that feels like it has more mythological significance. You’re the closest thing to an expert on the denizens, so I though you might have an interesting comment.

Before the Denizen is Woken from its slumber, it is a statue, cold and dead stone, a silent Idol that looks down on the Quest Bed. The events of the Players Quest Awakens the Denizen (although they can be roused early, disastrously) and when that happens, the dead stone billows out into living flesh, becoming the remarkable monsters the Denizens are shown as in the comic. In this form, they can only speak in opaque riddles and their own form of screeching, even to their player, to whom they are highly hostile. Their intent is to kill the player, and in doing so will lay their body upon the Quest bed. In an instant that last for an eternity, the players now free soul (heart) can speak with the pure form of the denizen, who no longer speaks in riddles and onomatopoeias, although they are still cryptic. Here, the denizen reveals everything about the players aspect, as well as much about the world, and questions them for their motivation, why they want to keep fighting on, and finally gives them their choice. Once the choice is made, the player revives as god tier. They can now speak with the monstrous Denizen, though no-one else can understand.

I like this better, because it gives an explanation of how players become god tier. Vriska cheated to become god tier, and tricked John into it. Jack only knew to put the dead jade onto the slab because he saw John, rose and Dave just happened to be on a spare set of beds, and the Alphas were struggling with the idea of killing themselves when they blew up, taking the choice out of their hands. This works fine in the story, but not so much for a group of people actually pretending to play the game. That either makes me have to set up contrived story events that happen to kill all of them in the right place the right time, or ask them to kill themselves, and that ends up being thm trying to role play considering to commit suicide which is a nearly impossible choice, or them automatically taking the power gamer option and immediately offing themselves, cause it’s a Game and there are no consequences, which ruins the tone.

So the problem becomes this: how do I make the denizen killing them not contrived? Maybe I’d the denizen represents something they can’t get over in themselves, maybe. Any suggestions?”

Well, I wouldn’t say this is what happens in canon. We know for a fact that Denizens dont want to kill the players, Vriska even said hers kept trying to speak with her all throughout the battle and was dodging her the whole time Vriska fought her. Vriska thought this was dull and boring for a supposed “boss fight” and we know pre god tier players can speak to their Denizens, Karkat proves as much

The Choice is all inherent in how you perceive the denizens, the choice is, basically, to listen to what they have to tell you, or reject it (speak to them or kill them) and what they have to tell you is only relevant to you personally. But they always want to speak to you first, we know this

What happens is most people simply perceive them as end boss monsters causing problems on their lands and provoke them into fighting by attacking them before they have a chance to speak

However nothing says that you personally can’t do it your way, the way you describe can simply be how it is for you on your land, though I don’t know what growth you’d get over the figure meant to help you grow instead just wanting to kill you upon sight, but thats something for you to figure out

but your main issue seems to be with the god tiering process yeah? This is something separate than the denizens, Vriska didn’t cheat at god tiering nor did John, they did what they were supposed to do, which was die upon a quest bed. How you die doesn’t matter in the equation, all that matters is that your dead body ends up in the quest bed in time. It doesn’t have to be by denizen, it doesn’t have to be suicide, you just have to be dead. It’s not “cheating the rules” to die by some other means

so all your valid options are

1) you simply set up story events/villains/denizens to kill them at the right place at the right time, who says you can’t just ask your denizen to ritually kill you when you get to the quest bed?

2) have them do it themselves by committing suicide. It’s not an impossible choice, theres always that fear of death that prevents people, but the power in the god tier comes from the fact that you were able to go past death the first time, you become immortal by getting rid of the thing that made you mortal, pretty typical god making process from a greek myth perspective. 

I’m not sure where your getting that theres needs to be a consqeuence for this process though? there already is one in that they are dying with not 100% knowing that they will revive right after. The game says they will sure, but they are making a leap of faith in believing that to be true. Even the alpha kids struggled with this and half heartedly tossed around the idea of offing each other or someone going first to see if its true and the other could follow, but someone, the first person to move, is acting on faith that it will be true, without knowing that it will be.

so yeah, you can do whatever you like for your land in particular, the way you describe can totally be how it is for you, I just wouldn’t say that that’s how Vriska or John did it yknow?

Sticky note Polaroid, Thor and Loki! 

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A BTS/ Kim Seokjin Fanfiction

Summary: He looked like an angel, and spoke like a singer. Next to you, a university student surviving on 5 hours sleep a night, and holes in your shoes, he seemed to have it all. But at the end of the day, you were both just Existing. You just cant help but think, it might be more fun to Exist together…

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12

Part 3

You’re watching anxiously out the window as the clock ticks closer to 10pm the next evening, glancing over at the ahjumma behind the counter every few minutes to see her wiping the counter for the 6th, 7th, 8th time as she waited for you to leave, and feeling increasingly more apologetic after you’d told her you were waiting for someone, her reaction to the comment clearly meaning she didn’t want to leave you out in the cold by yourself, resulting in her staying right up into the final minute. Its when it gets to 10:05pm and you see her grab her coat that you finally give in and decide you had to face the cold of the night, cursing yourself once again for not asking Jin for his number before he’d left the previous evening, and thanking the ahjumma as you exit the door with her, proceeding to stand in front of the cafe in the alley way where it resided, and being surprised when she suddenly speaks to you.

‘Who exactly is it you’re waiting for? You seem very determined to wait for them.’ She comments in a voice worn by years, her mouth crinkled into a thin line as she walks over to you after securing the locks on the door.

‘Uh…its just a friend… we agreed to meet tonight, but he said he was working till late…his name is Jin-‘

‘Oh! You’re waiting for Mr Seokjin?’ she asks, her whole demeanor changing to curiosity, her eyes widening and her chin raising as she nods her head in apparent understanding along with your confirming nod, a faint recollection of Jin telling you how close he was with the ahjumma who owned the café coming to mind and causing you to blush.

‘Well, I should tell you that its not often our Seokjin-nie will leave work early for someone, so you must be special. However, I can tell you that he keeps his promises, so im almost sure he’ll be here any- …speak of the devil-‘

You follow her gaze behind you as she trails off, eyes darting down the alley way and catching the glimpse of a dark brunette mop of hair as it passes beneath a street lamp, the figure being draped in a large heavy coat, and a face mask, beginning to move quicker once he’s seen that you’ve spotted him, and jogging the rest of the way before coming to a stop before both you and the ahjumma.

‘Hello, ahjumma.’ He greets the lady beside you first, bowing respectfully before bobbing his head to you and sending you an excited smile as he pulls down his mask, sharing in your happy grin before turning back to the lady beside you.

‘Thank you for staying so late, Auntie. I didn’t mean to be late, but Im very grateful to you for staying with Y/N.’ he says, bowing thankfully to her again, but only receiving a scoff from the woman beside you, who smiles at him fondly.

‘Yah, Seokjin, for a polite boy like you, I don’t mind keeping a friend company. I know you don’t make promises to just anyone. Besides, I think she suits you very well, so I’ll be doing everything in my power to see that this works out.’ She comments, grinning the whole time, and before either you or Jin could become embarrassed by her remark, she’s tapping him fondly on the arm and beginning to turn away.

‘But since it is late. I’ll be going-’

‘Ahjumma, do you not want me to walk you home? Can you manage that bag?’ Jin quickly asks before she can get very far, making to walk after her, but ending up getting swatted away from her as she turns back to shoot him a stern look.

‘Yah! I can manage, Seokjin-ah. You go and have fun with your friend for tonight. But I’ll be expecting you to help next time.’ She calls, before continuing to mosey down the street, and you smile when you see Jin grin fondly, calling after her with a ‘see you tomorrow, auntie,’ before turning back to you.

‘I hope you didn’t mind me being late.’ He offers instantly, shooting you an apologetic look, but you simply proceed to find his hand with yours, looking up at him with a smile and squeezing his fingers gently.

‘A Prince can never be late.’

He laughs at your comment, pulling you closely against him and sighing happily, and the move makes your chest feel endlessly light as he begins to pull you down the street with him.

‘In all seriousness though, you were only late by 5 minutes. I just feel bad about you having to leave work early. Was your boss angry?’ you ask, looking up at him, and smiling subconsciously when you feel him squeeze your hand lightly, peeking at you from the corner of his eyes and chuckling when he catches you watching him.

‘Not really. I told him id pick up the work I missed tomorrow, so he let me off.’ He explains, grinning down at you, and beginning to swing your joined hands gently between the two of you, continually looking down at them with a warm smile, and you cant help but chuckle quietly at the way his cheeks glow red when he realizes you were still watching him.

‘But forget about me. What have you been up to today?’ he asks, raising your hand momentarily as if he was making to bring it to his lips, before realizing what he was doing and trying to pass it off as simply swinging, the way he frowns a tiny bit appearing as the most adorable thing to you.

‘I had classes for most of the day, but then I’ve just been sat in the café since 6pm, trying to catch up on revision. Sometimes I really regret taking on a degree.’ You explain, not meaning to add the complaint on the end, but finding it leaving your mouth before you can stop yourself, grimacing down at the floor as you continue to walk, and only looking up when you feel Jin squeeze your hand to get your attention.

‘Is it really that bad?’ he asks, slowing as he watches you with concern, and you realize he thought your frown was about you questioning your life decisions.

‘Oh, no- I just…I didn’t mean to complain when this is only our first date-‘ you explain, slapping your hand over your mouth as soon as the word ‘date’ had left you, and you see Jin smile at your actions, smirking bashfully down at his feet, before looking up at you from beneath his fringe.

‘A date, huh?’

You feel everything within yourself recoil at the awkwardness of the situation you’d created, feeling your palm grow sweaty and your heart race, wondering how to make things better, and not noticing Jin watching your inner turmoil flash across your face, until he’s suddenly pulling you to a stop and raising your hand purposefully to his mouth again, keeping his eyes on yours and dropping a feather-light kiss to your knuckles, before smiling at you, his angels face being illuminated by the light of the streetlight over head as he speaks once more.

‘I like the sound of that.’



Robert Pattinson is building an impressive filmography

It’s already trite to say Robert Pattinson has surpassed his Twilight stardom and become a remarkable actor. Pattinson chooses his directors wisely. This year alone, he is promoting movies by James Gray, Josh and Ben Safdie and the Zellner brothers. The films by the Safdies and Zellners are strongly expected to premiere at Cannes, a festival where Pattinson is a welcome face.

In the 4 years since the Twilight franchise ended, Pattinson has had 9 films in theaters, to much critical acclaim, working with such vaunted directors as David Cronenberg (Cosmopolis and Maps to the Stars), David Michod (The Rover), Werner Herzog (Queen of the Desert), Anton Corbijn (Life), James Gray (The Lost City of Z), and award-winning edgy young director, Brady Corbet (The Childhood of a Leader, winner of two Golden Lions at the Venice Film Festival for Best Film and Best Director).

Pattinson came in at #9 on IMDB’s list of “Top 25 Stars of All Time,” showing he’s lost none of his popularity since Twilight ended. It’s also significant to note that most of these films were able to go into production based on Rob’s participation, and without him, they wouldn’t have been made. Pattinson has the career any actor his age would envy, and his future looks bright indeed, with a new film, High Life, helmed by revered French director Claire Denis, to go into production later this year.


Taurus, you are everything you were destined to be.

Gemini, loving you is not a chore or inconvenience.

Cancer, do not forget the friends who always asked about the best part of your day.

Leo, not everyone has to like you in order for you to be powerful.

Virgo, you are entitled to a safe environment- this city is yours, too.

Libra, it isn’t practical to imagine you becoming anything less than remarkable.

Scorpio, persuading others to care doesn’t require you to prove that you’re hurting.

Sagittarius, how you identify does not have to be the defining aspect of who you are.

Capricorn, glorious and kind things are said about you behind your back.

Aquarius, let no one mistake your emptiness for a shelf.

Pisces, avoid abandoning people as soon as they get close enough to know your faults.

Aries, the stories living inside you are relevant and valuable.
—  MAY HOROSCOPES, by Blythe Baird (2016)

Sticky note, Thranduil! 

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lovely-wagner  asked:

hi can you maybe do a bucky x reader were the reader is tonys 19 or 20 year old daughter and they are secretly dating and tony catches them making out and freaks out on on bucky thamk you if you can love your blog

Thank you lovely, made the reader a little older, just so its not too much of an age gap. Hope you don’t mind!

All hell breaks loose when your dad catches you kissing Bucky (688 words; Bucky x Reader)

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Third Eye Open Wide Spell

Opening the Third Eye is directly related to the 6th chakra; the psychic chakra, located on the middle of the forehead above the brows. It is closely associated with the “pineal” gland. The pineal gland id dormant in most people,as is the true 3rd eye. French Philosopher Rene Descartes believed the pineal gland to be “the seat of the soul” where mind and body met.

In the average person, the pineal gland is atrophied and dormant. The following exercise will change that. Please read this thoroughly, as much of the exercises I write of are very advanced and can cause problems if one does not do them correctly.

The pineal gland is like a grape in size; like a raisin in most people where it remains dormant.

Opening the third eye/pineal gland:

This is done with a specific tone and chant. You only need to do this exercise for 3 days, afterwards, it is permanent.

The mantra to be used is “Thoh,” pronounced “TOE.” It must be within the correct vibration. Not deep, not high pitched, in-between, like alto range. You will feel it when you hit the correct tone.

  1. Sit with your back straight.
  2. Breathe in through your nose and hold your breath as long as is comfortable- open your jaws so there is a small space between your top and bottom teeth, place the tip of your tongue between the space of your slightly parted teeth.
  3.  Put a very light pressure onto the tongue with your teeth. This is like the same process of saying the “TH” part of the English word “the.” Once your tongue is in position, release your breath slowly through your mouth saying T-H-H-O-H-H in one long exhale (say the word one time pre exhale) Your tongue will be vibrating between your teeth. You should feel the air moving past your tongue and teeth. If this technique is done properly, you will feel a pressure or sensation in your jaw and cheeks. The tone will also vibrate in your 3rd eye. It may take a few seconds to adjust this, don’t worry, just keep going.
  4. Do the above 5 times in a row.
  5.  It is very important the above exercise be done for 3 consecutive days, 24 hours apart. Then it is a done deal.


  1. One of the first experiences is a headache or pressure in the center of the forehead. This sensation may also feel like it is originating from within, usually an inch or more beneath the surface of the forehead. This is a positive indication the pineal gland is awakening and beginning to function in a healthy manner. *Some people can experience a migrane lasting several hours. The severity of the side effects will depend on how atrophied your pineal gland is to begin with.
  2. After the occurence of headache or pressure in the forehead, you may wake up one morning with a throbbing or tingling sensation in your forehead; it may feel like a goose-bump. The feeling may be very intense like something is there. The sensation of pulsing or throbbing will continue throughout the day. This is the final physiological event you will experience after opening the third eye. It indicates your pineal gland is awakened, functioning and alive.


Faster, easier learning and retention Marked increase in intuition Increased creativity Psychic gifts develop and become remarkably stronger and more intense ability to see human auras Clairaudience (psychic hearing) opens up

Note: This is a very powerful exercise and as with all powerful practices, your body will go through discomfort in order to adapt.

Enneagram Type 2: The Helper

The Demonstrative, Generous, People-Pleasing, Possessive Person

Healthy. Healthy Twos are empathetic, compassionate, full of feeling for Others. They put themselves in the place of others and are caring and concerned about others’ needs. Sincere, warmhearted, appreciative, and encouraging, seeing the good in others when they may not see it in themselves. Service is important: they are extremely generous, giving, and helpful. “Good Samaritans.” Loving and thoughtful, they give people what they really need, even if it means going out of their way to do so. Healthy Twos maintain good boundaries and also take care of their own needs. At their best: Become profoundly disinterested, unselfish, and altruistic; are able to give unconditional love with no expectation of reward because they have found the love they seek within themselves. Joyfully nurturing self and others, gracious and patient. Deeply charitable, truly humble. 

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princetutti  asked:

Hello! Really cool idea with HP AU and drawn so cosily (maybe it's this Hogwarts aura, lol), hope to see more!!! Actually I wanted to ask why did you decide to place Yuri into Gryffindor, wouldn't Hufflepuff suit him more (considering his strive for hard work and, well, overall personality)?

Hello! Cozy isn’t really a word I was expecting but hearing it made me really happy! Thank you so much :’D

Now, as to which House fits Yuuri the best and stuff- let me begin by saying that I’m not very proficient at writing, and the fact that english isn’t my first language also doesn’t help lmao. But I shall try my best!

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DOUBLE Sticky note, Thor and Loki! Here’s an example of what commissioning two might look like!

Want a sticky note drawing of your very own? Check out my sticky note commissions! $9US/ $10 INTL for an ORIGINAL DRAWING mailed to you. Free shipping! This is an AMAZING deal for a hand drawn piece. 

You get a 3x3 drawing bagged in plastic. Makes a great gift or conversation piece. Something ordinary becomes remarkable.  Collect more than one! :)

Fill out this form

And you are on your way! you can’t commission me, please consider reblogging! Spreading the word would be a huge help to me. Thank you.