been keeping this for a long time in drafts

Writing a Novel: Being Unafraid of Failure

Part of the writing process is definitely about having the courage to sit down and write 200+ pages of a novel, but more than that, it’s more recognizably about being unafraid to write something that could potentially be horrible. It’s something that most of us don’t talk about but it’s all somewhere in the back of our minds, “Maybe my book is unreadable.”

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Dog Days Are Over

Summary: You were already having a bad day, and then in walks Mr. Perfect and his best friend’s puppy. Oh, and he needs you to hurry because he’s got a blind date tonight, and he’s really nervous.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2,993

Author’s Note: Do you know how long this has been in my drafts? Anyways, here’s more fluff. Sorry I’ve been the Ebeneezer Scrooge of fluff, but I can’t help it that I’m a cynical, angsty bitch who likes to make people suffer.

Originally posted by thespoilerwitchblog

There were certain rules to being a veterinary technician.

Number one, waterproof mascara and eyeliner always! When the customer cries, you cry. Number two, carry a lint roller on you at all times; it’s best to get the pocket-sized one, because Mr. Twinkles sheds a lot! Number three, iron your scrubs! And it’s probably best to keep an extra pair in your car, because Mrs. Comier’s Jack Russell likes to pee on people.

Even though you knew these rules by heart, and you followed them every single day of your work-life, today was an exception. It was just one of those days that absolutely nothing- no matter how hard you tried- was going right. You were covered in fluffy cat hairs, Mrs. Comier’s Jack Russell peed on your leg twice, and you had run out of waterproof mascara; so when Mr. Langley brought in his thirteen year old Labrador to put her down, he cried, and so you cried, and in the end you looked like the raccoon that liked to sneak into the office dumpsters at closing.

Today just wasn’t your day.

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#just tall girl things:)))))
  • Not wanting to buy into that heteronormative bullshit that your partner must be taller then you (especially if it’s a guy) but still feeling weird/not wanting to date a shorter person and then feeling guilty that you feel that way.
  • Never feeling “cute” and “small” like girls are ““supposed to be””
  • Trying to buy fucking pants.
  • Not being able to wear heels unless you feel like towering over everyone and dealing with the stares your amazonian ass gets.
  • Way waaaaay older men asking you out/creeping on you when you’re  really young because you look older than you actually are due to your height.
  • “Do you play basketball? You should play basketball. Oh you suck at basketball? You should still play basketball :) I’m clueless :)”
  • Generally weighing more than what’s average, which is actually healthy for someone at your height, but you know Society™ is all about those Numbers™™
  • Being taller than all of your faves. If you ever meet them in person, it can be really awkward and soul-crushing. I’m not being dramatic.
  • Driving the car after a short person who’s forgotten to put the seat back. Sincerely, my knees and head that have been assaulted way too many times to count. 
  • TRYING TO BUY FUCKING PANTS.

pastelqueen-sweetascanbe  asked:

I was wondering if you can do an RFA love triangle JuminXVXMC. I don't want to stress you so you don't have to do it. I was just wondering is all. ^^ Thanks for taking your time for reading this, I love your story's and keep up the great work.

We are soooooo sorrry that this took soo long. Honestly, it’s been sitting in our drafts forever, and we apologize for just posting it. Hope it’s okay though?


He deserved this.

That’s what he told himself as he watched Jumin smile at MC from across the room. He watched as she returned the gesture lovingly, Here they were in the bustle of guests eager to speak to all the hosts of another successful party. All thanks to MC.

V lifted his camera, his focus on MC. He was supposed to take pictures of the party coordinator, but he was beginning to feel like it was an excuse just to look at her through a lense. He loved to watch how her eyes sparkled as she greeted another person. Her hair swayed as she made small gestures with her hands as she spoke. Her lips curved into a beautiful smile that made V’s heart flutter inside his chest in a gentle way…something he had never felt before.

He snapped the pictures hurriedly before moving away. He tried distracting himself by taking some other photos, but he just couldn’t. The image of MC filled his thoughts, and with it, came the acute stab of guilt. He knew Jumin liked her…no, loved her. He saw his friends feelings unfold in the chatroom all that time ago.

At the time, he had encouraged it, still cast under the enchantment Rika had left on him. But that was his fault too, wasn’t it? Rika…her rise and fall…both were his fault, and he would force himself to pay the consequences.

“V…” Jumin’s uncharacteristically hesitant voice carried from the doorway.

V cleared his throat, steadying his voice before speaking. “Ah, Jumin, I was just getting some air.”

“You can stop that.”

V’s fingers tugged against his blazer, but he resisted the urge to drop his smile. “Stop what?”

Jumin sighed, taking a step closer. He adjusted his cufflinks, his eyes suddenly darting to the ground. Was he nervous? “You’re in love with MC.’

V’s entire body froze at the statement. He couldn’t bring himself to plaster that same smile back on his face. He couldn’t even muster a chuckle. Even if he did, Jumin would’ve seen right through him. In this painfully raw moment, he could do nothing but remain silent.

Jumin pursed his lips and nodded. “I see,” he said. There was no mistaking the tightness in his voice. “How long?”

“Jumin, I have no interest in her,” V said quietly.

Something between a scoff and sigh escaped his friend’s lips. There was no mistaking the strain of jealously in the way the muscles on his neck twitched. “No? Then what was that in there? Do you realize how long you were staring at her? Taking pictures? And before, during our last meeting–”

“No,” V interrupted. His words seemed to be lodged in his throat, making it difficult to say anything without his voice wavering. “No, I mean…I’m not pursuing her.”

For a long moment, there was silence. Jumin chewed on his bottom lip…a sign of true distress from the normally stoic man. “Why?”

V shrugged. “A lot of reasons,” he said. “I…I don’t think I can ever ask someone to accept me after what happened to Rika.

Jumin’s brows furrowed. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

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“1940″ Chapter 3

(banner by my fav @tiostyles)

The one where you fall in love with a soldier named Alex

Missed a chapter? Read them here: Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 2.5

Author’s Note: Surprise! Here’s another part to “1940″, my Dunkirk!AU – thank you for all of your patience regarding the updates to this series. Much love to all of you! xx


Sicker Than a Dog

July 1938

London, England

Alex’s POV 

The air felt stale around him and sickness hung in the air. It had come on quite suddenly – chills had woken him up the night prior, accompanied with a rather nasty cough and a headache that easily put a hangover to shame. He laid there, sheets thrown to the side, and sighed. It was surely going to be a long day. 

A knock at his door interrupted his pouting, and he turned frailly to look to his side.

“Thought you might be awake,” his father poked his head further into the room, “Feeling any better?”

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heyy!! if you’re reading this and have no clue who i am, im tee, and ive been running this riverdale sideblog for the last month or so now!! it’s no big deal, i know,  but i recently hit 2k!! im honestly really confused, but im not complaining lmao, so i wanted to write up a little follow forever just to thank my mutals + just recommend some blogs that i find funny/enjoy the content of (whether happen we be mutals or not)! a heads up - not all the blogs recommended are strictly riverdale orientated blogs, but they’re still all worth checking out! the list is under the cut!

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IN AMIDST OF A WAR [GEORGE WEASLEY]

summary: they were best friends, like siblings as they often tell the others, but just as the battle of hogwarts is taking place, one of them decides that it’s the best time to confess certain feelings — not exactly the right moment when you may or may not face death while protecting the castle.

a/n: fRED DOESN’T DIE HERE BECAUSE I SAID SO OKAY. oh and this is a bit cliche but meh, i’m a sucker for cliche and fluffy stories lol (and my writing here isn’t the best, i’m sorry 😂)

also this has been sitting on my drafts for a long time and i finally decided to finish it since classes are suspended from where i’m from ahaha.

Masterlist

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This was prompted a ludicrously long time ago by @nikkibeckettcsm and I’ve had it waiting in my drafts ever since. Nikki, I hope you like this if you have the chance to read it! <3

A Not So Gray Day


“What about there, Momma?”

Kate lets her daughter pull her along the well-worn path to the dock, taking care to keep her footfalls steady on the slick ground. They’ve been at the cabin with her dad for almost four days, and this is the first day the rain has let up for any solid amount of time.

So of course, Lily had chosen their reprieve from the weather as the moment to request a walk and her “photo session,” kissing her sleeping brothers on the heads and patting her father on the shoulder before grabbing Kate’s hand and tugging her beyond the covered porch for the first time since their arrival.

It’s a bit indulgent, and a little dramatic, the concept of having a photo shoot prior to cutting her hair, but at six and a half years old, Lily Castle is every bit Martha Rodgers’s granddaughter, right down to choosing the most fashionable sweater and knitted cap to wear over said hair. And as with everything else in her life, she wouldn’t be discouraged from this when Kate suggested waiting for a brighter, warmer day.

“There looks good, baby,” Kate murmurs, swiping her thumb over the girl’s tiny fingers. She has gloves for her daughter in her pocket, but it’s a battle she’s only going to fight if necessary. If they’re out here too long. “Not too far on the dock, though.”

Her daughter bobs her head in agreement. “Bessie might get me.”

Kate can’t smother her laugh fast enough, no matter how hard she tries. “Bessie?”

“Uh huh,” Lily says, unconcerned with her mother’s amusement. She’s preoccupied with choosing which side of the dock entrance to claim as her perch.

“Don’t you mean Nessie?”

Lily shakes her head. “No, Mommy. Nessie lives in Scotland. Bessie lives in our lake. Daddy said so. She’s friendly, but sometimes she gets too excited to see people, and she gets ‘em.”

Smothering a smile, Kate makes a mental note to ask her husband what else he’s been teaching their kids about water safety. Bessie? Really, Castle?

“She does, huh?”

Lily grins. “Yeah, an’ that’s why the rule is you only go all the way out on the dock if you’re with a grown up and you’re gonna swim or fish. Because Bessie might make you get in, even in your clothes!” she adds, releasing a hearty cackle.

“Phew. I’m glad you told me about Bessie then. We’ll make sure to stay here for now, just to be sure.”

Lily nods, making herself comfortable, tossing her hair over her shoulders, only to change her mind and bring it back in front of her a second later. Kate gives her a moment, watching the concentration involved in making sure it’s all going to look perfect in the picture. Once Lily’s squirming seems to cease, Kate squats and lifts the camera to her eye.

“Okay, honey,” she singsongs. “Say cheese.”

Instead of a front-facing grin, she’s met with Lily’s profile and her daughter’s contemplative frown.

“Hey, what’s that face about?” she asks, tilting her head.

Lily shrugs. “Just thinking.”

Kate bites her lip. “Lily, if you don’t want to cut your hair, you don’t have to. Or if you want, we can wait until it’s a little warmer, or even until after summer. Nobody’s going to be upset if you want to think about it for a little while longer.”

Her daughter shakes her head, vehement in her refusal. “No, I wanna cut it soon. Another kid needs it more than I do.”

Affection floods her chest. Her sweet, thoughtful girl. Lily’s been waiting so long to have enough hair to donate, talking about it nonstop, about how badly she hopes it can help a child waiting for a wig. Kate hopes so, too.

“You’re right. And they’re going to love how strong and soft your hair is, and how much you’re able to give them. You’ve done great, baby.”

Lily nods, lowering her chin as her cheeks turn pink and her lips turn up. “Thanks, Momma.”

Kate snaps the picture then, taking a short burst of extra shots for insurance before joining Lily on the dock and taking a couple of the two of them with their cheeks pressed together.

“How’s that?” she asks a few minutes later, smoothing Lily’s hair off her shoulder. Her daughter nods, resting her head against Kate’s shoulder. “Good. Now,” she starts, lifting her eyes to find her husband watching them from the path back to the cabin, his face soft with adoration, “let’s get Daddy down here and we’ll go say hi to Bessie before we go back inside.”


A/N: This basically popped into my head in the middle of the night and wouldn’t let go until I pulled out my phone and typed it out. I hope you liked it!

Witcher Headcanons: Witcher Family

  • Ciri loves to get piggyback rides from Geralt, even now as an adult. Yen will sometimes jump on as well so Geralt loses his balance and they collapse on top of him.
  • Geralt and Ciri like to cook Yen breakfast. Her favorite is when they make pancakes.
  • Ciri likes to strap unicorn horns to Roach. Partially to annoy Geralt and partially because she knows Yennefer loves unicorns. Roach doesn’t seem to mind.
  • Yennefer loves their dogs just like she would her children.
  • At night time, they like to gather around the fire and listen to each other’s stories of their travels.
  • They often have family sword training sessions. Geralt still finds new stuff to teach Ciri and they both are teaching Yen the basics of self defense.
  • Every year, the Witcher family gets a family portrait painted by the gentleman who painted the…”suggestive” one of Geralt.
  • Whenever Ciri returns home, she tries to hide the picture of her as a little one but Geralt always manages to find it.
  • Geralt and Ciri complete various Witcher contracts when she is home.
  • The three of them all go on a family Witcher contract every year around Yule.
  • Yennefer enjoys watching Geralt and Ciri interact with the estate children. She hopes Ciri will have children of her own one day, whether they be hers or adopted.
  • Ciri has a box of keepsakes, some from when she was a child that she keeps in the attic of Corvo Bianco. When Geralt and Yennefer miss her, they like to go through to box and reminisce. 
  • They enjoy going on horse rides together and take their dogs for walks together. Yen and Geralt ride Roach and Ciri rides Kelpie. Sometimes the dogs will ride the horses too.

I hope you all enjoyed reading this, it was a lot of fun to write! I know it has been a long time since one of these, a month or two at least I believe. I haven’t been into writing for a while but I decided to finish this one as it was in my draft. I am in need of inspiration so if anyone has any headcanons or ideas for headcanon lists then send them in as asks!Hopefully I can find the motivation to continue my fanfic stories as well! Thanks again for reading! :)

Tired [Part:5]
  • Pairing: Jerome Valeska/Joker x Reader x Peter Parker/Spiderman.
  • AU included: DC/MARVEL. Possible Suicide Squad.
  • Prompt: You had enough with Jerome as he keeps seducing other girls in front of you so you plan to leave him and go to New York. Where you will find yourself stuck in the web of another bug who will fall in love with you.

Hey guys! long time no see, and yes I am back! This past few months have been horrible and tiring. I decided to take a 2 weeks break from tumblr because I’m failing in class (DAMN YOU QUADRATIC EQUATIONS!) then when I’m done I forgot my password literally! And when I’m done changing it my laptop broke! Which I mind you this draft was in that laptop so I’m really sorry guys! I promise to update more forgive me! ;-;

SORRY IF ITS’S SHORT!


PART [1] [2] [3] [4[6]

There were many reasons for you to hate the Joker based on your perspective point of view and one of them includes his antics and psychotic thinking. So expect his plans gruesome, it would be fun to say at least to be applied to others but now. His victim is you.

Did you miss me, darling?” he chortled and moved forward along with the other members beside him.

He looked the same but there are most definitely major changes, for example. His face, it was stapled on his head. His outfit too, from ‘The boy from Prison’ to ‘A Ringmaster that would kill you’.

Bucky pushed you further away, both of his pistols with a silencer plugged in aimed towards the man. “Tell me, (Y/N). Is this Jerome?” Your body jolted, you once expressed the story to Bucky about Jerome but it seems like he didn’t care at all at that time.  Fact-wise, you didn’t knew that Bucky cared about you a lot throughout the weeks and even included you to one of his dear companions inside his mind. He is just reluctant since he fear that the Winter Soldier inside him would rise once again so suddenly, so he distanced himself away from you.

“Yes.” You managed to stammer out at your condition.

“You’re a strong girl (Y/N), now run and call help.”

You stared at Bucky like he was nuts, your mind started to advocate and theorize saying that there’s a possibility that if you escaped Bucky could die, Jerome could outsmart you, and many more. But looking at his pleading brown eyes told you to run. So you did, and boy you were fast. You were guilty of leaving Bucky alone but he was right, you don’t have any weapons that you are specialized around except the gun that Bucky held so to help him, you need to contact the other Avengers fast. Jerome glared at Bucky, curious who he is and annoyed. “The chicken run because of you, what are you to order her around? Her lover?” his roar full of laughter but when he said the last one, his teeth clenched together and his eyebrows furrowed.

Bucky averted his attention towards the group; he noticed that members aren’t the former MANIAX. Rather one of the new groups that escaped the prison a few days ago. “Hey, isn’t five against one a little unfair?” Bucky frowned.

“Nothing is fair in a game with me in it.”

Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed, “Well let’s play that game of yours now shall we.”

Jerome clapped, without emotion plastered on his face and bowed as if a show is about to start. He brought out a flip phone and typed rather fast, “Now if you excuse me I need to call one of my clients and let this buffoons take care of you for a minute.” He smirked and walked towards one of the picnic table and sat on it smiling as if he was innocent.

One of the crocodile looking puffed, “We’re not buffoons.”

“Now, now mate. I say we should kill this greasy lad first. Any tic of the clock and he’ll be dead before the dessert.” A man with a boomerang said, grinning. A person in color sighed and glanced at one bald man full of tattoos, “You joining little guy?”

“No,” the bald man said with a thick accent.

This would be hard.” Bucky murmured under his breath.




Yes? ~” A chirpy voice greeted as the person saw you running towards the bathroom, locking it.  The female smiled and blew a gum as it popped and munched it once again.

“I need you to bring me (Y/N) fresh and alive, get it?”

The female giggled; “So when I do this you’ll take me on a date?” she could hear Jerome grumble at the other side of the line. “Just get her.” The phone call ended as it beeped. The female stretched her body and placed her phone in her pocket, her bat dangling on her shoulders.

“You bet’cha pudding, alive and fresh. But I won’t promise no bruises~!”




You gasped for air, thinking in a flash. You brought out your phone and dialed Peter fast, “Com’on, com’on” you muttered in frustration and within few seconds it ended. You dialed once again and fortunately he answered this time.

(Y/N)! Did you manage to get out—-“

“No time to explain,” you grasped your phone as if your life depended on it “Go to the picnic or field whatever the name of that grassland son of a bitch in your school! Bucky needs you more than I do!”

“But—“

“Harley Quinn is here!”  A lard bang could be heard outside the room, a nemesis was trying to enter the room. “What’s that?!” you could hear Peter ask and him wearing his suit. You ended the call.

The bathroom isn’t the best hiding place to hide in the game of hide n’ seek, you thought. Because of panicking too much you didn’t even think about the possibilities so you won’t let anxiety took over you. Thinking fast you closed all of the stalls and entered the last one, locking it then climbing out of the stall with the support of the toilet seat. You closed the stall that you fled with and under the sink there were small closets so you entered the one near the door so you could escape her hopefully when she bashed the last stall. You just hoped you outsmarted her on this one.

After few seconds you could hear the wooden door bashed as footsteps erupted.

Where could you be?” you could almost feel the smile she is wearing now, how you despised it.

“You know,” her voice fainted “Puddin’ asked me to fetch ye up undead.”

You could hear her pass the hiding spot you were in, you covered your mouth.

“He still loves you,” you could hear her chuckle “and that makes me feel disgusted” Harley kicked the first stall openly; she was trying to give a thrill like all the horror movies she watched with Jerome. Obviously she isn’t dumb enough to see you peeking on her so she just pretended not noticing a single thing.

“You know why he wants you alive?” she swings her bat towards another stall.

“Because he still fucking loves you.”

“He still loves me?” Harley kicked open the second to last stall as you closed your hiding spot slowly. The room ceased down which made you confused.

“Yeah, he still loves you. Not.”

In just a matter of second an insane looking woman you dragged out off your hiding spot. “I won’t promise that there’s no bruises darling!” You tried scratch her and hit her, which didn’t work, it made her slow but not enough for you to escape. Even though you were a former serial killer that didn’t mean that you were good enough to battle Harley because she is more experienced than you.

“A-ah! Sweet cheeks, Harley is about to blow your mind!” Harley shoved you towards the dirty wall. Your head shook as the cemented wall made an impact on your head and by impact it meant a lot. You’re eyes slowly giving up on you as your body twitched a little.

“And by saying that phrase I meant literally.”

The only thing you saw next was a baseball bat moving fast towards the side of your face.



TAGS: @mundane-cup-noodles @lonewolf0515 @pizxagordon @the-mad-girl-with-a-book @1738oml @depressionxisntxaxgame @thebeautifulmonaghan @luciferscrush @surahbow @sparklyhoe @extraordinarybluenette @youtube-obsessed-duh @hanji-zoe-surveycorps @poisonjey @colagirl5 @adidabach @erreneous @zaporkent-hullo-rettenet


[For some reason tumblr won’t tag me some of the people but I still enlisted their names! I’m sorry! Also tumblr won’t show me some of the notes so I’m sorry if you aren’t listed ;-;]

If you want to be tagged for the next part just comment asking to be tagged! I won’t include for now a “PERMANENT TAG” since it’s quite a hassle for me. Thank you for reading!

PS. If you want to get tagged please check if your tumblr is allowed to be tagged by people, if not please turn it on. Thank you.

anonymous asked:

i'm having so much trouble concentrating on my paper it's like i know i have to do it but i just cant get myself to actually DO IT i dont know what's wrong with me, not even studyblr is keeping me motivated anymore look i know im probably just wasting your time by sending you this message but i dont know who else to talk to and you're my favorite studyblr so yeah i'm sorry i just dont know what to do im so stressed out i want to have a decent output but im so afraid i'll fail :(

Hellooo my love! First of all, thank you so much! That means a lot :-) I’ll start with some words of encouragement and say you can absolutely do it, even if it is smaller pieces. I’ll list a few things that help me concentrate, yet get motivated:

  • draft it - I have started drafting every essay/assessment/task I do because it helps sooo much. It gives me an idea what they markers are looking for, what I should and want to include. I’m able to roughly plan out the structure and what needs to be added or researched. It also means I can come back it again and again for reference. I always feel having a draft makes the process less daunting since I’ve already got an idea - I’m not starting from scratch.
  • break it down (dance wise, obviously) - once you’ve got that plan, you can mark out the key areas you need to do. For example, an introduction! When I’m typing up an assessment, I tend to write out the key headers so I have an easy to work with the list. If I add mini bullet point ideas from my draft, that usually helps with the cohesion of the work.
  • do small sections - recently I’ve been using my pomodoro session tracker printable in conjunction with my Forest app. It has been so good for keeping me on track and recording my progress. Even though I take breaks (both long and short), it keeps me coming back which is the key thing. I try to work in 20-30 minute sessions. Usually, I can hold my attention for that time then I do something else for a couple of minutes.
  • skip bits - sometimes you’ll be working strongly and then hit a wall. You go blank and have no idea what to write next or just blatantly don’t want too. In these instances, just move on. Write in a reminder such as [come back to this: remember to mention Jones (2012) theory on … and compare to Smith (2004)]. This way you can keep going and don’t have to interrupt your flow. Definitely a good way to not let the time pressure yet stress stop you from working.
  • listen to music - generally I’d recommend soft music without lyrics but honestly listening to my regular playlist is so motivating for me. I’ll sometimes have a good jam for a few minutes or just have it in the background. I’ve managed to learn how to be able to focus well whilst listening to it so it actually helps me. Especially with essay writing - I type to the music so I think and type faster hah!
  • think about getting it done - the sooner you’re done, the more time you have to edit. One of the worst things is completing a task, reading it over and thinking “man, this is shit” but not having time to go back and edit. The earlier you finish, the earlier you can go in and make those changes to ensure it really is good work! I will always use grammarly.com to check things over but sometimes will send it to a friend. In a group chat I have with a couple of friends, we usually proofread each others stuff even though I’m doing communications, another is doing business and another is doing psychology! 

I hope this helps! Best of luck with everything xx

IT’S BEEN ONE YEAR

Yes that’s right.

It’s been a year since I’ve posted on this blog and I can’t believe how far this blog has grown. I could’ve never imagined to have 2.8K followers in that amount of time.

And the number of followers still grow each and every day. I’ve never had this amount of support from anything I’ve ever done before……

This blog has done so many things for me. My depression is gone, I’m actually more organized (thanks to me queue and drafts), I’ve gained so much more appreciation for myself and a lot of other things, and I have you.

Yes, you.

You are the main reason why this blog exists.

I still remember the day when I realized my posts were getting noticed. I was in L.A (wow fancy that), awake at like 3am and I just checked tumblr. And there you were. My first 7 followers. My first 4 notes. My motivation had started from that point.

And every single day from that point. I just kept posting.

Since then, I’ve gained almost 3K followers, I’ve put out over 900 posts, along with 300 others sitting in the queue and over 100 drafts waiting to be opened to the wild. It’s crazy. The fact that I’ve been keeping up with this blog for a year even surprises me. The fact that people enjoy my posts, share my posts with friends, and anticipate more from me is amazing. I’ve honestly never felt so loved in my life. You guys are just amazing and I hope you all stay with me for a really long time. 

because forever doesn’t exist.

But seriously, you are all the reason why I’ve kept up with this blog and the reason why this blog exists. You’re the reason I still exist.

I just really want to thank you all. I consider you all my friends and soulmates.

and i know this is really long so if you guys read up to here i’m also very surprised

HAPPY ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY!!!

Thank You and I Love You All.

Let’s stay together for years to come.

Originally posted by miyu13me

#8: Touch Me Not

*mature content

It was nearing midnight when Y/N finally shut the television after a long saga of old episodes of ‘Friends’. She set the remote back onto its place and headed for her phone that lay on the table adjacent to her bed side.

‘hope you’re keeping a check on the time styles…’

She drafted a message in her phone and after hovering her fingers twice and thrice over it, she finally bucked up to press the send button. The reply came instantaneously, as if Harry had been sitting over his phone.

'Parking the car, you be at the door honey:)’

With a deep sigh, Y/N set her phone back on the table, and in slow, lazy steps, she headed for the door.

She has been very cross with Harry this past week. Every morning he promises to be home early but Y/N doesn’t even get a track when he gets back home and when he leaves. She just knows he’s healthy by the frequent phone calls he pays her.

Distance does cause a lot of frustration. There are immense stances of misconceptions and what not, and problems really do drift the couple apart. Y/N fears the thought of losing Harry, and sometimes when sat alone, she wonders if he shares the same fear. Thoughts like these have only made her cry alone in her cold, empty bed.

The bell rings just as she is stood by the door, and taking her time with unlocking the door, she opens up with an unpleasant look.

“Hello there, my darling.” He extends a small, blooming red rose in her direction as a pretty smile flashes across his features.

“Hi.” Y/N replies in a monotone, accepting the rose as she walks back into the house. Harry follows sincerely after her.

“You wanna eat something?” She asks as she drops the rose in the vase situated at the center of the dining table and looks over at Harry giving her a guilty look.

“No.”

“Fine.”

And they don’t talk any more than that in the moment. Harry descends up stairs to their room while Y/N spends sometime setting everything in the kitchen.

She walks back to their room then, and on entering the room meets a half naked Harry. He looks at her for some response to his intention, but she plainly checks him out up and down before settling in the bed on her side.

Her back turned to him, Harry grows more anxious and apologetic. He takes off his sweatpants and climbs into the bed in plain boxers, nearing her slowly and cautiously. He lies down, close to her, as a hand goes about her and pulls her close to his chest.

“I love you.” He murmurs into her hair, pressing his lips to her back. “I’m sorry, baby.” He kisses her temple, trailing down to her cheek and to her shoulders before tugging her to face him.

She remains rigid at her place. “Don’t touch me.”

Her words effect Harry immensely. He realizes how profusely he has neglected her than ever before in just one week. It’s new to her, the distance and ignorance, and he doesn’t want to her to get any wrong knowledge about it.

“I’m tired, Harry, let me sleep.”

“I’ve missed you, please, I’m sorry..” He kisses her some more.

Y/N sighs. “I’ve missed you too, precisely more, Harry.”

Harry closes his eyes and presses his nose to her shoulder, hating every minute of sadness he has occurred to her. He wanted to really compensate for it tonight.

“Honey, turn over..” He finally gets her to face him, but she still has the sour expression. He runs a hand through her forehead and pushes aside the fringes, and then continues his fingers down to her lips.

“Harry, don’t..”

“Fine, I won’t touch you.” He climbs on top of her, his hands on either side of her body supporting his weight. “But, I want to love you.”

Y/N urges to sit up, and tenderly Harry moves back, allowing her to take up her comfortable position. Y/N gets up and strolls over to where her scarfs hang, and bringing along one, she climbs back in her place.

She tugs Harry’s wrist and tying them up together like cuffs, she lies down back again beneath him. Harry looks at his tied hands and smirks invisibly, adoring her little tactics of torture.

He climbed on her hips, and lifting his arms above his head, he leans down to kiss her. His arms enclose around her head, his lips touch down hers and his body presses closer and closer to her small frame. The heat between the two resides within them from the extreme closeness.

Harry’s lips move slow with hers, he treats both the upper and lower lip of hers one by one, sucking and nibbling and leaving them glistening wet. She hardly gets to treat him back because he is trailing down before she could think, making it extremely clear that this night’s all about her and only her.

He slows at her neck, taking time to let her first feel his lips on her skin and then a profuse bite, smothered by a slick lick of the tongue. He mumbles his love for her once as he is biting down her shoulder and then repositioning his lips over the valley of her breasts, he meets her eyes.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, baby, and you’re all mine.” He makes it clear to her. A moan in response furthers his actions.

He pokes his tongue out, slowly sliding it down her collar bones to the depth of her night dress’s neckline, wetting the curve between her breasts. He moves away, tugging at the thin sleeves of the dress with his teeth and slowly sliding them down her shoulders, he meets her eyes for assistance.

Y/N is quick to tug both the sleeves down her arms. Harry’s smile grows; his eyes trail back to the area he had left wet behind and tugging the dress material from there, he gets her rid of the dress top off of her body. She lies now in just a pair of small shorts, flushed and aroused from the slow pace of romance.

Harry feels one breast of hers with his mouth, circling his open mouthed kisses around her nipple. Y/N feels a desperate urge to feel his hand over her other breast. With the contact of his cold tongue on her hard nipple, Y/N arches her back for more contact. Harry assists her.

He takes her sensitive peak in his mouth, torturing with sucking and nibbling of it. His teeth graze over them, and Y/N reaches an another world. Harry brings the same pleasure to her other breast, and seeing her face turned up in such bliss makes it difficult to control his outburst. He so wants to touch her, squeeze her, fondle her in his arms.

He moves down, leaving kisses over her stomach, and over her navel, he dips his tongue causing a loud squeal to escape her mouth. He chuckles as a smile appears on her features.

He moves lower, and fighting with the string of her shorts, he manages to loosen it with his teeth. He pulls her shorts down - a slight on his own and the rest with the grace of his missus - and dips his head between her legs. Y/N gasps and gets a hold of his hair. They are short but they manage to tangle about her fingers.

Harry’s tongue invades her. He licks and flicks in angry motions, he is desperate and now completely out of control. It hurts him now, and he wants to use his hands to guide her to where it hurts.

He sits up with one last lick over her clit.

“Open this, now.” He extends his tied hands to her. Y/N sits up with a sly smirk as she slowly with her teeth, entangles the knot.

Harry presses his free hands now, on her cheeks and kisses her again, this time in extreme passion and anger. They lie down on the mattress again, with Harry on top of Y/N as he presses his groin over exposed clit, rocking back and forth to create a friction that could cure the pain.

Y/N’s hands roam down; she tugs at his boxers and pulls them down, releasing the aroused animal that resided inside. Harry doesn’t blink for a second; he positions himself in front of her and thrusts in with force, giving her a taste of his extreme dominance and rage.

She feels him throb around her walls, and her head falls back into the pillow; her eyes pinch close when he pounds hard into her, her lips tighten to suppress a loud scream.

“Look at me, baby, open your eyes.” Harry commands, his voice hoarse and heavy from contentment and fatigue, whilst his body fast and hard for more.

Y/N opens eyes and meets his dark, heavy eyes, and Harry thrusts into her again, causing her to moan for mercy.

“I love you, Harry, so much, baby, so much..”

“I love you so, so much, Y/N Y/L/N.”

“I just always want you with me, Harry. You leave and my heart comes right here in my throat, and when at nights you are late, I cannot blink either. Am I being too selfish for asking you and only you?” The distance had to be sorted out, and somehow, naturally, words escaped Y/N’s mouth.

“No, darling. I realize your care and patience but just some more of it and I promise the day’s not far when you will always stand by my side. I am doing all of this only for you, for us. I just need your love.” Harry committed to her, and Y/N couldn’t stop her throat from filling up.

She pulled him down by his neck and replaced her lips with his frown. He smiled, and so did she, and the night was long as he moved inside of her till his last strength and they spoke their love to each other till their senses finally dissolved to sleep.

Originally posted by kissing-pleasure

But imagine Lance having PTSD and night terrors after nearly dying in the airlock

Imagine Keith finishing training late at night and passing the common room and then backtracking because is that Lance? And he’s surprised bc it doesn’t look like lance, not the lance he knows at least, bc this one is curled up on the sofa, looking lost and alone and not at all like the boisterous annoying man he knows who needs a full 12 hours of beauty sleep to function

So out of shock and worry - because how can that be Lance? - he finds himself walking in and calling out the others name, and for a split second when he looks up Lance looks so scared and miserable Keith is halfway to demanding what’s wrong when his face changes and its like the suffering plain on his face was never there

Lance blinks and smirks and teases Keith for being up training so late and the performance is so convincing that Keith finds himself walking away thinking he could have imagined it

Until the next night, when he walks passed and sees the exact same thing. I knew it, he thinks, and marches over to the other, not saying anything until he is well in the others personal space and Lance is blinking up in shock, dragged out of whatever hellish thoughts he was having, and Keith gruffly and half angrily demands ‘What’s wrong?’

But Lance is nothing if not proud and stutters out a “I don’t know what you’re talking about” and nothing Keith does can get through to him, in fact it seems to make him more adamant to keep his problems to himself

The nights go on like this, and eventually Keith starts to just walk in and collapse next to the other, the two bickering for an hour or two before heading to bed, and Lance still doesn’t give up his secrets

But then one day Alura is giving a prep talk on what to do if their lions ever get breached, how to combat the vacuum of space entering their ship, and nobody else seems to notice but Lance books it out of there immediately, looking pale and shaken
So Keith follows, about to rip into his annoying comrade and get to the bottom of this now, but stops in shock when he spots Lance on the floor, curled up against the wall, breathing raggedly and holding his head tightly

Keith drops down beside him and realises Lance is panicking - badly.So he grabs his hands from his head, holding them hard and tells him to look at him. Lance resists for a minute, but then gives in and Keith has to stop from gasping at the sheer terror in his eyes. “Breath with me” he commands, and its hard and there are a lot of false starts and Lance slips back into a full panic attack at one point but eventually, eventually he’s breathing normally again again he’s slumped against Keith and when he says ‘tell me why’ Lances defended curmble, because he’s so tired of keeping this to himself, tired of false smiles and lies, he tells him how has scared to go to sleep because his dreams have him floating through space, unable to breath, call for help, surrounded by inky blackness that make the stars seem dull, how every time he stares too long out a window his breathing picks up, how he’s been dreading their next mission for weeks, because he doesn’t know if hell be able to keep up

Keith holds him, and scolds him for not telling anyone, but not too harshly because he’s proud as well, and can sort of understand why, in a twisted sort of way

Fictober 1

*shows up 3 days late with Starbucks* Sup?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


The first time, Anakin is embarrassed. The mission had been long, they’d been ill equipped for a drawn out battle, and the exhaustion of working on a lava planet had been draining. He’s excited and happy to realize that Ahsoka has fallen asleep on him as they wait for extraction. She trusts him to keep her safe, she trusts him to watch over her. Then he’d gone and fallen asleep on her, leaving no one to watch for possible enemies that had been searching for them. When the ship lands the down draft wakes him and causes Ahsoka to stir with a moan. When it lands and she doesn’t wake, Anakin happily carries her in and let’s Kix fuss over them.

The second time is almost worse, he’d fallen asleep on the couch while completing his paperwork and woken strangling his own screams down from a nightmare. He’s sweating and panting, and shaking away when Ahsoka shoves a glass of water under his nose and makes him drink it. As soon as it’s finished she half hauls him up and guides him to his bedroom, where she practically gets him settled in bed without any help from him. Then she climbs on top of his covers, sprawled half over him and tells him to sleep. She’s being bossy and assuming, but it’s been years since someone bossed him around out of love so he lets her.

The third time Ahsoka has fallen asleep at Padme’s apartment, head against the couch arm and feet tucked up by his hip. With no one there to judge him, Anakin preens under his wife’s thoughtful eyes. She trusts me. He says it like a child, pleased beyond measure of something so simple. Padme’s eyes sparkle as she sits on his other side. Curling up with her back to him, head on his shoulder and holding his hand. It’s silly because it’s just sleep but it means something to him. It means so much.

The fourth, fifth, sixth, who knows times blur together in the span of one campaign. When they sleep where they can and when they can no one is judging. In fact, Anakin’s sure his men have been giving them both nods of approval as they walk past. They sleep half tangled together and Anakin doesn’t know how many times he wakes with Ahsoka’s montrals digging into his throat but it’s worth it.

Obi-Wan finds them tangled up like a two man womp rat pile. Before Anakin can think of how to explain, his Master has simply shucked his own boots off and made Anakin’s back into his pillow. When he shifts to ask what’s happening, Obi-Wan grumbles. Stop moving, you are most uncomfortable when you’re moving. So Anakin stills and sleeps and wakes up with Ahsoka squished between them, happily luxuriating in the heat of the middle spot while Obi-Wan has been trying to subtly get his arm out from under Anakin’s head. The two end up in a fit of inappropriate giggles which earns a few elbows and punches from their oversized cat child, who apparently wanted a few more minutes.

Rex is looking at him in something like terror, he’d fallen asleep and Ahsoka had apparently decided to make due with the humans available. Anakin can’t stop his snorting giggles as he gets a hold of himself. Instead of helping Anakin lays down half draped over Rex’s legs and suffers a small head butt for his trouble. With Ahsoka resettled he drifts off quickly enough. Anakin wakes up somewhere near the center of a ten man pile up.

He finds her napping in the small crook of a viewport and simply marvels that she can sleep like that at all. His back cannot twist like that and it simply looks painful. All the same he tucks his robe around her as best he can, the spot feels cold after all. It’s kind of worth it twice over when she knocks on his door, flushed with an embarrassed blush and practically shoves his robes back at him.

Fives has a shit eating grin as he happily reclines, Ahsoka curled around his waist and half hidden by his kama. Echo gives his brother a light kick to the chest before flopping over them. Anakin can only complain that no one lets him sleep under the warm, heavy leather of their kamas. Where would you fit? Fives sneers. Challenge accepted. Anakin squeezes in behind Ahsoka, twisting his body into a completely uncomfortable U shape to make a point. He ruins a perfectly good nap but it was worth it to force Ahsoka to claw her way out from between him and Fives. He gets a less light kick to his chest in thanks.

Anakin looks up, up, at Master Yoda in confusion for a moment before realizing that he fell asleep on Ahsoka in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. They have tangled up the way the normally do and Ahsoka’s left hand is twitching as she sleeps. This is it, he thinks, the time they finally get murdered for their bizarre sleeping habits. Yoda simply chuckles and makes himself comfortable on top of them. When Anakin tries to speak, he gets a single tap to his forehead from the grand master. Uncomfortable and hard to meditate on, you are, when you move! He chooses not to warn Yoda and instead just enjoys the moment that Ahsoka wakes up and reflexively punches at the pressure on her head. Yoda topples with a graceless yelp. It’s perfect.

Chris Evans: Imagine your daughter coming to watch you putting some make-up on...

A/N: It has been a long time, and I still got a few half-finished stuff in drafts, but this one is quite special as it actually happened to me with my little niece, hah! Anyway, enjoy it! 

Warnings: fluffy. Just plain old fluff. 

Originally posted by lufelicity

You just got out of the shower, and walked into your bedroom in a towel. You turned your music off in the bedroom as Chris - your husband - left it on and went off to keep an eye on his daughter. 

You put your strapless black bra along with a small black thong as well. You used the same towel onto your hair to keep the hair stop dripping onto your back and it also kept your hair out of the way from your face. 

You sat down on your dressing chair, next to your make-up kit, so you started to put some liquid foundation on. As you just finished off covering your freckles, you heard your daughter calling out your name. 

“Mummy - are you putting some make-up on now?!” your 5 years old daughter cried out as she ran into your bedroom, with your husband coming behind slowly. 

“Yes, honey - I am. Why, do you want to watch me putting some make-up on?” you asked her, which she nodded excitedly and it made both of you and Chris laugh. 

“Babe, I’m just off for a shower - keep an eye on Jess, alright?” Chris came to you and kissed you on your shoulder, and ruffled Jess’ hair, which she growled at her father but he went into the bathroom, along with his outfit for tonight. Obviously, he didn’t want Jess to see him naked, now she was 5. She was becoming more curious and interesting in things such as why people got certain hair colours, why the sky is blue and where does water comes from and so on… 

So, clearly, this was one of her curious days. 

“How long does it take you to put make-up on, Mummy?” she asked, while she picked a few of your eyeliners, but she was just being nosey. You explained that it takes about 20 minutes, while putting powder on. 

It was 20 minutes full of questions, near-drops, small giggles and laughs there, but when you finished your masterpiece and took the towel off, most of your hair were dry as it was short, anyway. 

Jess helped you by taking the dress out of the wardrobe and picked out the biggest heels out of the collection and placed them near the bed. Chris came out of the bathroom with his outfit on - a smart navy long sleeved shirt with navy trousers. He looked very smart, and he gelled his hair back slightly along with his brand aftershave. He always smells so good. 

As you put the dress on, and put the heels on and had a quick look at yourself in the full-length mirror. You definitely looked like you are worthy of being Captain America’s wife. But you nearly forget to ask Jess’ opinion. 

“Oh, Jess - what do you reckon? Does Mummy looks nice?!” you asked, and Chris chuckled when he saw Jess looking up from playing a game with Chris for a minute. 

“Wow, Mummy. You look so pretty!” Jess got off from the bed, and went up to you and smiled happily. “But, you look so much prettier when you don’t have any make-up on or wearing dresses like that? You don’t look like Mummy, really?” Jess crossed her arms and tilted her head as if she was thinking about her choices. 

You looked at Chris, who was just amazed by his daughter’s answer, and looked up to you as if he was proud just now. “But Mummy, don’t wear make-up in the house from now on. I want you to be really pretty, okay? When you come and pick me up from school or making me some dinner or when my friends are coming as well - don’t wear make-up, okay? Is that right, Daddy? Do you think Mummy is prettier without make-up as well?” Jess asked her dad, who nodded as well and looked at you with a seductive smile and crossed his arms. He was doing his sexy pose. 

“Alright, Jess. I won’t wear make-up, okay? It’s time for bed-time, anyway! Come on, say good night to Daddy, and get your little bum into bed, okay?” you noticed what time it was - nearly half past 8. Jess nodded unhappily but she kissed Chris on his cheek, and came to you for two kisses on your cheeks, and went to her bedroom. 

Chris’ mum was staying in; to make sure Jess is okay over the night while you and Chris went out for a date to celebrate your sixth anniversary!   

The WUBRG Superheroes!

So! It’s been awhile, but I’m coming back with a new big one! A few (several) weeks ago, @gigaguessmtg sent me the following ask: “Here’s one for you…you have a modern superhero team, five heroes, one for each color. How would you describe them, both as a person, and their role in the team? And what would their power be?”

Wow, this ask got me thinking a lot! I contacted gigaguess after a while to explain that it would take me some time to come up with an answer because I wanted to make a team that I could call mine while still fitting within the colors (aka I didn’t want Blue to be a tactician with water powers, Red a hothead with fire powers etc). So, just to clarify: this is not an archetypal, absolute “what if the colors were manifested in superheroes.” This is one of the near-infinite possible answers to that question.

Anyways, I created a Google Doc and started spitballing ideas. After quite a few days (due to family obligations) of fleshing out these characters, I give you: The Woobergs!

Keep reading

“Work From Home” Xiumin/You

a/n: you can’t just SAY things like this and not expect me to do something drastic. rated like nc-15-17 i guess

warnings: mild, EXTREMELY mild kink fic. (more like kink negotiations, kink acknowledgment, nota lot of KINK)

Your laugh freezes in your lungs when the counter finishes and the next image pops up, completely black except for the small I gonna try something…

Wha—

You barely have time to form the question when the next picture of Minseok pops up, blurrier, with just enough of his face showing that you can see the way his teeth catch at his bottom lip.

Keep reading

pro-snape  asked:

Hey fam, um I have so e ask I guess...I'm so nervouse! How would the ut and uf skellies react to having an girl s/o who wheres boy clothes, like boy shirts, button up, khakis but also wears jackets all the time thanks fam

Aww no need to be nervous, hun! Also this has been sitting in my draft for a while. So sorry ^-^

Undertale Papyrus:

Honestly, he doesn’t really care and he’ll help her get even more clothes. If he goes to get something he’ll remember to keep her preference in mind. He just loves helping her, and as long as she’s happy with it he’s happy that she’s happy. Though he does wash her jackets pretty often.(He just likes to make sure their’s are clean)

Undertale Sans:

As long as she’s happy with it, he’s fine. He’s not really one to have an opinion on one’s outfit. Heck his hoodies has ketchup stains on and some of his shirts do to and she’s still with him. 

Underfell Papyrus:

His only complaint is it doesn’t look evil enough. So he’ll probably be getting her at least one leather jacket, some black boots, red shirts. He won’t force her to wear anything, but if she did wear something he gave her he secretly be over the moon about it.

Underfell Sans:

It doesn’t bother him in the slightest. He’s kinda happy she’s not into all the girls outfits. Girls just have a bunch of stuff to choose from, but with her he has a much better idea of stuff to get them.

I was doing my final read through chapter 15: Butterfly, and it got me thinking about the parallels between Maggie’s and Sally’s parts within it.

From funny stuff like Sally coincidently mentioning a mouse in her crazy story about her impact:

 “You’d get out of work at 6, then you get home around 6:20, cook yourself some dinner. The heat rising from your stove mixes with the air and creates a thermal pocket. A hawk flying over your house catches the thermal pocket and rides it up over the treetops and sees its own dinner, a field mouse. Hawk hunts the mouse, mouse is dead. Hawk is eating dinner, you’re eating dinner. Everything’s nice. But: you’re here with me.“ 

(poor mouses in this ep… even the imaginary ones end up suffering)

To darker similarities like both Sally and Maggie talking about the blood in their hands.

“I’ve already got enough blood on my hands. Enough for a lifetime. I don’t need any more”

 “And so I continued, until I was witness to some… Truly horrifying… I’m going to make myself sick to even remember it. Confusion. Violent behavior. Suicide. So much blood… “

The episode starts setting up the theme of Maggie’s experiments: “adverse effects on the mental state of the operator over prolonged or heavy use” (which sounds like it concerns her more than anything else). Sally then starts to address her effects in the past, and how they, in turn, are incapacitating her. 

And so the parallels go, both subtle and obvious. 

Maggie’s part contrasts with Sally’s by being more action-driven, while Sally’s trajectory is more of a mental one.

But, in the end, the both of them separate themselves from ODAR in similar ways. Their futures are unclear, but the two are hopeful. After all, they’re finally free of the distortion of the organization… Or are they?

The whole structure of this episode shows the scope of ODAR’s manipulation perfectly. From therapy sessions to lab experiments. From mind to action. From official data to supposed confidentiality. 

(… DR. “Remember, all of this stays strictly between us.“ Fitzgerald… Hah, yeah, sure).

And, behind all of it, the efforts of a single person: Esther Roberts. All-knowing of both Sally and Maggie’s experiences. Guiding the both (though not so smoothly) in accordance to her goals. 

Her struggle between getting too involved and being too cold, in this terrible role of serving as a moral compass to ODAR that was been pressed into her, becomes maybe clearer here then ever before.  

Even Cornish goes from “Stop making Sally Grissoms. You and Whickman keep letting your personal life make the big decisions.” to “ …That’s a little dark for you.” about her handling of the situation in seconds. 

And so we end the episode, and one can’t help but feel a contradiction similar to Esther’s, in a way: The knowledge of the manipulation behind everything, but at the time, sharing Sally and Maggie’s hope. And, above, a feeling that things at ODAR are going to change, and change a lot, soon