but i wanted to see it to get a real grasp at it

Leap of faith

Summary: That time when you wanted to go skydiving and Bucky didn’t love the idea. 
Characters: Bucky x Reader
Warnings: None, this is absolute fluff

A/N: Needed a bit of happy after a long week at work, so here’s some snarky Bucky with a side of fluff.

MASTERLIST

Originally posted by colorlessmidnight

“I’m not kidding, it feels like flying, it’s so amazing.”

Steve’s voice is exuberant, blue eyes bright, while he visualises the experience for you, his enthusiasm painting a colourful verbal picture. The longer he talks, the more he fidgets, his inability to stay still a direct correlation to his excitement, and his eagerness to tell the story puts a smile on your face.

He talks and talks about every jump he’s ever tried, a shocking number in actuality, and you indulge him as the early sunlight slides across the kitchen floor. 

It’s late morning before you hear the slow, quiet steps shuffle behind you, and you feel his arms curl tightly around your waist for a sleepy hug. The minty smell of toothpaste floats under your nose when he presses a light kiss to your neck, nuzzling his face into your hair. 

“Morning,” Bucky murmurs, eyes still half-closed when he breathes deep, letting the scent of coffee and your freshly scrubbed skin roll over him. 

Keep reading

Art by me
Writing by @bloomingednae

Day 7: Camlann (Family/Fate) Late

“There’s so much time, to figure out the rest of my life
And you’ve already got me coming undone,
And I’m thinking two, is better than one.”
               ~ “Two Is Better Than One” - Boys Like Girls feat. Taylor Swift

“You have to catch me!”

His legs were burning. He felt like he could pass out any minute now as he kept running, and that voice that just kept calling to him-

“Come on, you slow poke!”

Mikleo finally gave in and broke into a Windstep, clearly exhausted from having to keep pretending to not be fast enough to catch the individual (In fact, he realized that he was no longer pretending and actually could not catch up to said individual because he was just that slow).

He finally caught up to the small child and easily carried them into his arms, a light squeal of laughter emitting from their throat with orange eyes full of joy. Once he began to calm down, Mikleo placed the child back down on the ground and the child looked back up at him, hands on his hips.

“You cheated! You used an arte to get to me!”

Mikleo playfully mirrored the child back. “Well, who’s the one that also used Windstep to get away from me?”

The child stuck his tongue out. “But I’m a child and that’s fair!”

Mikleo shook his head. “No mercy, even to the old people like me?”

The child looked up at Mikleo and laughed. “Oh come on, father, you don’t look a century old!”

Mikleo gave a light tap on the child’s forehead and laughed back. “And you talk as if you’re a century old.”

The child began to furiously move his arms about and pouted. “I’m gonna tell Papa that you’re teasing me real bad today!”

He stifled a laugh; smiling instead, he mused the child. “That was a compliment, not an insult!”

There were footsteps behind him as he heard the grass rustle lightly. Accompanied with a light laugh, the individual stopped right behind him before speaking.

“What’s this, with all this century talk?”

Mikleo turned around to face the source of the voice, only to have the light of the sun suddenly blind him-

But before he was completely blinded, he saw a glimpse of an all too familiar orange feather-

He jolted awake and immediately regretted opening his eyes quickly. Squinting, he realized that the sun had moved its position as it got later in the day and what had been a good, cool spot underneath the tree was now an area blaring with sunlight. Mikleo slowly attempted to shield his eyes with his left arm, but realized it was a lot heavier than what he remembered until he quickly looked in that direction. Sorey was lying face up, quietly napping as well with the shade of the tree completely engulfing him. Mikleo smiled at seeing Sorey in such peace and he slightly laughed when he forgot that his hand was intertwined with Sorey’s. Sorey didn’t seem to wake up from Mikleo’s accidental movement, and he sighed with relief. As quietly as he could, Mikleo shifted closer towards Sorey to escape the sun’s rays and he lay back down once more in a comfortable position, fingers still interlocked with Sorey’s.

“Have an interesting dream?”

Mikleo visibly shook at the sound of Sorey’s voice and he quickly turned to him, only to see his eyes still closed, a smile on his face. Sorey laughed lightly at Mikleo’s reaction, and Mikleo squeezed his hand hard in response. Sorey slightly grimaced at the sudden grasp, but he quickly recovered. He cracked one eye open to Mikleo and grinned.

“Oh come on, just curious.”

Mikleo looked back up towards the branches and pouted. “You didn’t have to pretend, you know.”

Sorey placed his free arm behind his head and he sighed. “I was gonna let it pass, but I dunno, something felt off with the way you were shifting about.”

Mikleo huffed. “Sorey, the sun was in my face.”

He heard Sorey laugh a bit, but there was an undeniable serious tone underneath his words. “Yeah, but. I dunno, I just felt it, you know?”

Mikleo just rolled his eyes at Sorey’s typical lack of description, but didn’t respond. He closed his eyes and listened to the wind in the trees, a relaxing sound that he had not heard in a very long time. Out of all the locations they decided to relax in was the town of origin, the place that started it all; their very birth location, the village of Camlann.

Internally, Mikleo felt both astonished and slightly unimpressed at how ironic it all was. Camlann, where they were both born, where the Age of Chaos began, where they were found by the people of Elysia, and where they were ultimately separated. Granted, it was still a mile or so from where Sorey had awakened, but it was close enough.

Now, here they were, merely resting at a site that had become an iconic location in terms of the many stages of their lives. Camlann was now considered a sacred site of the now awakened previous Shepherd, and had turned into an area full of foliage and peaceful wildlife. There was no one there except the two of them and Mikleo couldn’t tell if it was fate or not that was dancing all around them and toying away at his emotions, pointedly remarking at all the previous experiences they had here before.

Especially with that insanely odd dream he had just now. Was that Sorey, or…?

Mikleo shook his head. He concluded that, one, he couldn’t assume it was Sorey just because he saw a feather, and two, he didn’t even want to take care of a…child.

…Of course, if it was someone in need, that would be a different story and he would welcome the individual completely and raise them as his own.

Mikleo realized what he was thinking and shook his head even more furiously and decided to just let the thoughts go and be done with it.

Just as he decided to cast away the thoughts and drift back to sleep, a low hum came from Sorey along with a gentle squeeze on his hand. Mikleo didn’t open his eyes to this, as he just wanted to fall back asleep.

“Not planning on telling me, hm? You know, I don’t look much, but I do worry about you a lot.”

Mikleo just laughed. “Sorey, you don’t give yourself enough credit.”

Sorey turned to Mikleo and he smiled. “Alright. Then give me some.”

Mikleo groaned, realizing he just dug himself a hole right into Sorey’s trap. Sighing, he opened his eyes but continued to gaze at the branches, noticing the sun’s rays filtering through the leaves. His thoughts floated towards the individual covered by the sunlight in his dream, and it dawned on him that he forgot how the person’s voice sounded like. He concluded it wasn’t relevant and tried his hardest to explain what he saw.

“I really…don’t know how to explain it. Actually, I don’t even think I want to talk about it.”

He heard Sorey sigh and stare back up at the trees, just as Mikleo was doing. There was a silence between the two of them before he began to speak again.

“Why not?”

Mikleo shifted uncomfortably. “Because…it’s embarrassing,” he faced away from the trees in the opposite direction of Sorey. “It’s just weird, alright.”

Sorey noticed Mikleo’s actions with a quizzical look. It suddenly began to dawn on him.

“Wait…are you blushing?”

Sorey heard Mikleo mumble something and Sorey sat up, trying to see Mikleo’s expression. When Mikleo realized what he was doing, he turned to Sorey, his face a shade of red and averted eye contact with him. Sorey just sat, patiently waiting for Mikleo to explain his story.

“What’s so embarrassing about it? Dreams are images that depict small moments we’ve seen and thought of in our heads while we sleep, but it doesn’t necessarily mean it’s true.”

At this, Mikleo glanced at him with a deadpan expression. “I shouldn’t be hearing that from you, of all people.”

Sorey scratched the back of his head and sheepishly grinned. “Okay, well. I’m a different case of sleeping and dreaming, so I’m an outliner that shouldn’t even be considered.”

“But really,” Sorey squeezed his hand again (this was starting to become a habit of theirs), “it looked like it at least bothered you somewhat. Or it made you curious of something.”

Mikleo glanced up at Sorey, which he knew was a bad idea; the moment he locked eyes, Mikleo couldn’t avoid not telling Sorey, especially with the patient expression that he so often held. He sighed, and realized it would probably do them less harm if he was just straight out with it. Inhaling, Mikleo blinked once and stared at the branches above again.

“…I dreamed I was taking care of a child.”

Silence fell between both of them as a gentle wind came by and flowed through Sorey’s ponytail. A noticeable shade of red was forming on Mikleo’s face again, but Sorey couldn’t help but want to grin; he held it back. He tilted his head in thought, feigning confusion.

“Um…okay? That’s-”

“I’m about ninety five percent sure it was my child,” Mikleo interjected, still avoiding eye contact with Sorey. “I’m also about ninety five percent sure it was his child too-”

Mikleo’s eyes widened, realizing his slip up and he quickly glanced at Sorey, who evidently noticed his shocked expression and mirrored a similar demeanor. He tried to quickly recover by looking away from Sorey and clearing his throat.

“I-I mean-”

Mikleo couldn’t find any words and fell silent, face still completely red, if but a darker shade. He couldn’t tell how Sorey was taking it, but he didn’t want to find out and kept himself busy by counting the branches above him.

When Mikleo got to branch number seventeen, Sorey just laid back down wordlessly. What Mikleo failed to notice was the undeniable smile that formed on Sorey’s face; a mix of shock, joy, and hope. Sorey spoke, a slight crack in his voice as his tone was lower than his normal volume.

“I’m sure you’ll look as if you’re still not a century old by the time you’re a ‘father’, Mikleo.”

At this, Mikleo couldn’t tell if he was distraught, embarrassed, surprised, or relieved; he turned his head quickly in Sorey’s direction, who still was looking up. It was as if he was purposely avoiding eye contact with Mikleo, and before he could stutter out anything relating to the dream, Sorey suddenly turned and locked eyes with him. There was a look in his eyes that Mikleo had never seen and it stopped him so suddenly as a surge of mixed feelings began to form. Sorey, on the other hand, opened his mouth to speak; the sight of Mikleo flustered, surprised, serious, and so beautifully and consciously there beside him was beyond anything he could ever ask for, and he felt his heart bursting with a number emotions, which fueled him even more to speak. He smiled once more, and grasped Mikleo’s hand firmer, locking their intertwined fingers even more.

“Marry me.”

The words that came out his mouth flowed smoothly without hesitation and so suddenly that Mikleo wasn’t even sure if he heard correctly. His mouth was slightly open and he felt too stunned to speak; maybe it was adrenaline rushing him forward because he automatically sat up and took noticeably deep breaths before finally facing Sorey again.

“I…wait, this is…so sudden…we’re seraphs…isn’t this-”

Mikleo began to curse at his own clumsiness, but the amount of emotions he felt along with the pounding of his heart in his chest was so much to bear in itself. He kept stumbling on enough words that gave Sorey time to finally sit up, expression unreadable as far as Mikleo could tell. Taking a deep breath, Mikleo finally caught his breath.

“Okay, wait, isn’t this like…mostly a human tradition - I mean, it’s also in seraph culture, but - what I’m basically saying is that, I’m a little confused-”

Mikleo could’ve sworn he saw Sorey choke back a laugh, but he didn’t take the time to notice nor reprimand him. Once his words became somewhat clear to Sorey, Sorey began to stand up, unlocking his fingers from Mikleo’s. Before Mikleo could even speak again, suddenly missing the warmth of Sorey’s hand in his, he noticed Sorey deftly pull out a small box from his pocket and turned to Mikleo, still standing. He laughed as Mikleo just stared at him with eyes still in shock and he shook his head a little as he sighed. Mikleo watched as Sorey finally knelt on one knee, propping open the box while doing so.

“You know,” Sorey started, “I was going to go the old, simple, plain route just now, but since you insist that it’s merely only a human tradition, I guess I can revert back to my human genes for just a second and propose the ‘correct’ way, am I right?”

“Regardless,” Sorey continued, “I did want to go about it this way too, but since we were just laying there, it felt just right. But, let me restart and take it back a bit,” Sorey spoke, voice as light as it always was, and he continued to lock eyes with Mikleo. With a firm tone, he smiled at Mikleo, green eyes slightly glistening against the rays of the sun filtering through the trees.

“Luzrov Rulay, my one and only Mikleo, will you marry me and spend the rest of our dream together until eternity?”

Since Sorey had begun to move, Mikleo had not moved one inch. He was still in the same position when he sat up and (he gave a good guess) that his expression was still the same throughout the whole process. He didn’t even know if was still breathing, but by the looks of Sorey’s happy expression, he bet another guess that he very much still was.

Mikleo finally took a breath and decided to slow down his thoughts, grounding himself in the situation while doing so. He took a look at the box before him and he smiled; the box itself was nothing significant. It was covered in cloth of a dark brown hue with hints of dark red imbued, but the exterior itself was worn with some of the corners seemingly tattered. It was lined with a gold trim that wrapped itself around the box; from what Mikleo could assume on first glance, it was something that more than likely dated back from several centuries ago and probably held some importance back in its era. It was no easy find, that was to be sure. Yet another discussion that he and Sorey could get into much later.

However, what caught Mikleo’s attention was the ring itself; it was a very simple gold band with very small pale blue and orange crystals lining the middle. Each crystal was tiny, but had varying sizes and Mikleo could tell it was handpicked and added to the band, adding a sentimental touch to it. He also fathomed another guess that this was also the combined work of Lailah and Edna who probably figured their previous Shepherd would be too oblivious to know how to add it directly on the band (he could only imagine Edna rolling her eyes as she told Sorey which crystals were safe to pick and Lailah happily humming away while sealing the crystals within the band with fire artes). He knew, though, the design itself was Sorey’s idea over all.

He realized that he was inspecting for so long that the silence between them started to become unbearable. The sudden question still echoed in his mind; it reverberated in his ears, mind, and heart and had him feeling emotions he couldn’t explain. Looking at Sorey, he realized that Sorey hadn’t moved one bit; his expression still waiting patiently completely unreadable other than the same surge of determination he had noticed earlier when Sorey first asked.

As if suddenly welling within him, Mikleo had the urge to laugh; but, try as he might to hold it, he found himself nearly doubling over much to Sorey’s confusion. The normal ‘confused yet intrigued’ expression rested on Sorey’s face once more, replacing his earlier demeanor. Despite that, his posture was still the same, much to Mikleo’s amusement.

By all nature of everything, Mikleo knew it was rude to laugh; in fact, it was probably distasteful given the current situation they were both in. However, he couldn’t help but sum up the events before him: his previous thoughts on Camlann, where it had led them, and how it resulted to this one moment, ending in unity together for an indefinite amount of time. He concluded that fate did indeed play its hand in their lives and intertwined their experiences into one, no matter how divergent their paths were at one point; and the stronger that one bond became with the two of them. Like the red string of fate, their lives always crossed into each others’ with the passing of time.

Mikleo recomposed himself, and smiling, he sat up and stared at Sorey, this time with a similar expression which Sorey had demonstrated earlier. He gently held the hand which Sorey was holding the box with and nodded.

“I’ll be more than honored to spend forever with you. Yes…so yes, I’ll-”

He suddenly began stumbling on his words, and an unexpected quiet sob escaped his lips instead, tears streaming down his face. As if all the adrenaline from earlier began to wear off, the surge of mixed emotions suddenly erupted into uncharacteristic tears. He began to wipe his face quickly, confusion in his demeanor as tried to hide his face.

 “I-I’m-I’m fine, I just…what in the world…”

He felt Sorey’s arms encircle him and at once realized how embarrassing it was to suddenly breakdown. First laughter, now tears…Mikleo knew he was a mess and recovering it at this point was probably pointless. His usual serious character was clearly broken down into his vulnerable state, but he found that he couldn’t have it any other way being in Sorey’s arms.

He pulled away and glanced up at Sorey who was completely wordless, but upon looking at his expression, Mikleo knew that Sorey needed no words to explain how he felt. He looked purely content and at peace and he knew that was enough for Sorey.

And he knew it was enough for himself as well.

Clearing his throat, Mikleo coughed and crossed his arms, trying to regain his composure. “…just saying, seraphs can get married too; it’s not just a human tradition.”

Sorey was caught off guard for a second before recovering, his usual competitive expression taking over. “Oh, yeah? Then why hasn’t there been any proof-”

“Mason and Natalie were married; I hope you knew that, especially all these years,” Mikleo interrupted, feeling triumphant as Sorey’s expression turned into surprise.

“W-wait, what? Gramps never mentioned it, so I thought they were just two people living in the same house-”

Mikleo rolled his eyes. “Oh yes, they were just casually living in the same house-”

“Just like we were!” Sorey interrupted Mikleo this time, eyes wide. Mikleo just shook his head and stared back.

“That was only when we were kids. Why do you think Gramps had me move out when we were eleven? Well, mostly to have you get ready for the world outside, but…” Mikleo trailed off.

Sorey hummed in response to Mikleo. “Whatever, I still think it originated from human tradition that seraphs eventually developed.”

Mikleo raised his brow, a smirk suddenly forming on his face with a familiar hint of competitiveness. “Do you really want to test me?”

Sorey laughed, and he leaned over to Mikleo, placing a light kiss on his forehead. Pulling away, he smiled and continued to hold Mikleo.

“I’ve got all the time in world.”

Give me someone who has some fucked up tastes in fiction, but is kind and respectful to real people, over someone who only ever ships the healthiest ships and stans the purest characters, but is rude and cruel to real people, any day of the week.

Your goddamn fictional preferences don’t show what kind of person you are; your actions do.

It’s not a hard concept to grasp.

Edit: WOW this blew up like…. infinitely more than I expected or wanted it to. Honestly this was just me venting to my followers after seeing someone get harassed for liking a villainous character (so no, in response to the people claiming this is about a certain ship or type of ship, it’s a lot more general than that). I’m glad this has resonated with people but I can’t help wishing it didn’t get so big, because I hate discourse with a passion and only wish to be left alone. This wasn’t meant to target or defend anyone in particular, just a little rant about fandom hypocrisy that I really didn’t intend for a larger audience. So if this post bothers you, just know that I didn’t mean for you to be subjected to it in the first place lol. On the other hand, if you like it, I’m glad you do and I appreciate all the support. Peace to you all.

I’ve wanted to talk for So Long about the portrayal of anxiety in YOI but I’ve been having so much trouble putting together what I want to say in the most effective manner. I kept trying to come at this in a more analytical fashion, but considering that this is such a personally important topic to me, I’m going to try a more emotional approach. Something I don’t normally do.

So really, to start off, I wanna say that I’m so damn thankful for the way Yuuri is written. Really, seriously. I don’t think I’ve ever had the ability to relate more to character; Yuuri is close to a mirror of my own experiences with anxiety and it’s so fantastic to have a model of development and growth for me and people like me. I found the portrayal to be frighteningly accurate, from types of thoughts, behaviors, mannerisms… I think the episode that stood out to me the most in terms of Yuuri’s anxiety was ep7, aka Yuuri’s on-screen panic attack episode. 

The first thing I noticed was this: 

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve found myself in that exact position. I bounce my legs when I panic, just like Yuuri is doing here. Head in his hands, breathing heavily, bouncing and jostling limbs. This isn’t the Mary-Sue cutesy portrayal of anxiety–this is a real anxiety disorder. It’s not pretty. It’s not easy. It can’t be fixed with a single word or a touch or a person. Quite frankly, it’s ugly and you lose control of your body. 

Keep reading

Things the Types Need to Hear

ESFP: Look, I get it, you leave people in the dust because you know how crazy and all over the place your life can be and you’re also crazy scared to let somebody in just to have it end up with you accidentally leaving them and both of you getting hurt, but emotional intimacy and real depth in friendships are 100% worth it in the end and it’s the struggle and fight of a lifetime to keep them in your life, but it’s also the greatest gift and you can’t keep denying yourself that intimacy and friendship. 

ISFP: I know you have a lot of great desires and wonderful dreams and they might seem too far off and too crazy and too beautiful to come true, but you have them for a reason, and you gotta stop paralyzing yourself with fear and take that first step and throw yourself into the unknown, and that’s the scariest part, I know, but we both know you’re braver than you look, and that your passion can make it happen. 

ENFP: I know that the moment you hit an obstacle or two when you first start working towards that far off dream, it’s scary and it makes you want to crumble and run away to a new thing like you think you always do, but don’t! You’re miles more tenacious and capable than you give yourself credit for and you’ve got to discipline yourself and trust that your talents and optimism can and will propel you through whatever is keeping you from your goals. 

INFP: I know it’s hard to feel understood and it’s easy to let yourself become bitter by the ways of the world or whatever’s happening, but closing yourself off to others isn’t going to save you the pain. You have a natural capacity to understand others that’s hard for the other types to grasp and when you stop yourself from using that talent, or use it for selfish reasons, you’re doing yourself a massive injustice. 

ESTP: Listen, I totally get that the world is full of fun and interesting things and you want to experience them all, but you’ve got to remember that for a lot of the people that come along with you, they’re there to experience YOU as much as they’re there for the thing itself. Don’t let yourself forget that half the fun of anything is who you’re doing it with. 

ISTP: I know you generally don’t mean to yell or be rude when your irritated and that it’s really just a passing thing and you don’t generally care all that much, but just apologize to people after you’ve calmed down! Explain it to them and that you don’t mean it! Admit to yourself that you care enough about them to try to make amends, even when you’re just being a little crotchety; it means a lot to the feelers lol. 

ENTP: You’re a genuinely fun person to be around and you usually rack up a reputation for that, but just because you’re funny and witty and damn smart doesn’t mean you don’t have feelings and problems that need to be externalized, and trust me, the right people will be more than willing to talk about what’s really happening in your life one minute and go back to elaborate jokes the next without a problem. Don’t stunt your emotional growth for the sake of brevity. 

INTP: It’s okay to not know what to do in an emotional situation. Like, it’s genuinely okay. If somebody’s opening up to you, half the time your presence and you listening is 95% of what they need in that moment. Don’t avoid the situations just because it causes writer’s block emotionally. Emotional availability comes with experience. You’ll learn. Just, be your goofy self and the rest will come with time. 

ENFJ: You’ve got to realize that although holding yourself to such a high standard is noble and praiseworthy, that it sometimes eclipses your ability to be a good friend when that was the goal in the first place. You’re human and can’t do everything for your friends that you’d want to be able to do when they need help, and profusely apologizing and beating yourself up for it just shifts the focus off of helping your friend and turns it to you. Accept your humanity, and just do what you can. They appreciate the help, I promise. 

INFJ: I know you have a tendency to feel misunderstood and want people to show you that they love you and care about you, but you don’t get to say you’re fine AND disappear on people. Either say you’re not okay and pull back, or say you’re okay and stick around long enough for somebody to see through the BS. In my experience, y'all have a habit of making things a self-fulfilling prophecy, and that doesn’t do you any good! Be forward, be honest, and just be vulnerable; they care more than you convince yourself they do. 

ESFJ: I need to be straight with y'all. Learn how to talk about something other than your 4-5 current fixations. In my experience, N’s have a crazy hard time being close with you because you keep bringing the topic back to one of your current Favorite Things™, whether it be the semester abroad you just got back from or the first date that’s scheduled for two weeks from now. Expand your area of interest and you’ll find people will be much more authentic with you. 

ISFJ: You have this really amazing ability to notice the small things about people and that helps you show them you care about them in these really great and meaningful ways, but you can’t let yourself overthink the small things you notice about people. One of my good ISFJ friends started poking around trying to see if alcoholism ran in my family after noticing I’d been drinking wine a lot recently. You might have an intention to help, but overthinking/overanalyzing like that and trying to involve yourself in helping can hurt your friendships. 

ESTJ: Your presence is powerful and intense and that’s great at times, but you’ve got to let out your goofy fun side more, and hoe we’ve all seen it before, you’re a damn riot after a beer or two. People, in general, care more about fun than having every plan go right during the night/event. Be willing to be fun more, you’re so good at it. 

ISTJ: I know you get frustrated with yourself because you want to do new things and get out there and be a fun person, but the thing is, you’re so much better at being a responsible, caring person. Befriend the chaotic, crazy, lovable rascals and let them bring the fun to you (or more often than not, drag you kicking and screaming to where the fun is). 

ENTJ: Look, I’m an INTJ, so I know how hard this is to swallow, but showing you care about a person sometimes isn’t so much giving them solutions to their problems or trying to correct an issue; a lot of the other types literally just want you to listen and hear them out. And you gotta do that sometimes, babe. And shut your damn mouth while they’re telling you everything, okay? Just. Let them finish. 

INTJ: For the love of all that is holy, just cry already. Cry alone if you have to, or better yet, just go to the person you’d literally murder a thousand people for and freakin’ cry about all the crap you’ve been bottling up for the past two months and accept that you can have razor-sharp rationale and be a damn human at the same time. And just admit that you’re insecure about your relationship with that person because you care about them so much and you’re not the best at trusting people.

REAL TALK: since we’re talking about fandom and age

let me just get this out of the way, i do not condone or encourage underage followers on my blog. but ultimately i know i can’t enforce anything. however, since i know you’re here, i wrote this for you. i hope you read it.

so… to any of you are kids under 18- and you are kids- read this post carefully and take it to heart. know that i am writing this based on my own experiences as well as many, many others’


  • there is a lot of content that concerns kids under 16 having sex with full-grown adults. please don’t take this as normal, outside of fiction. people who write/draw these things are usually similarly underage people who don’t yet grasp how unhealthy these dynamics are in real life, or adults who fetishize the content because they realize how unhealthy it is in real life.


  • please realize you are not the same person you will be a few years down the road. don’t assume you know everything about yourself or about the world.


  • please don’t be in a rush to prove yourself as an adult. there is plenty of time for that. i know you’re getting underestimated at every corner, and that you probably aren’t even reading this because i referred to you as a kid. i know it’s infuriating. but it’s also very powerful to be underestimated. you are always in a position to prove people wrong by simply being true to yourself.


  • stay away from any adult who says you are “mature for your age” as an excuse for their behavior.


  • stay away from any adult who knows your age and still tries to initiate romance or sexual conversation with you. there is no exception. no matter how nice or sensitive or pushy they are.


  • no is a full sentence.


  • you are not more or less mature based on the fics you read, the roleplays you participate in, etc. 


  • fandom is where adults, both mentally healthy and unhealthy, cope/vent/fantasize through content. what you’re seeing fictional characters say/do is not an accurate portrayal of society. real life is not a porno or a beautifully broken emo paradise. people are rarely sociopaths, sex addicts or saints. fan work is heightened reality and it is usually self-indulgent. don’t base your views on the world based on what you see on a03/tumblr/whatever you kids are using.


  • anyone who is on tumblr for 10+ hours every day is using it as an outlet.


  • don’t expect adults to act like adults. a lot of them will disappoint you.


  • be the bigger person. take the moral high ground. it may not feel as fun, but it’s the better choice.


  • don’t assume anyone knows your age. mention it when you can. if it discourages contact, don’t take it personally.


  • realize there is shit you just don’t understand. not because you’re dumb, but because you don’t have the experience yet. these are two very different things.


  • don’t let anyone make you feel like shit just because you were born later than them.


  • on the other hand, if someone older than you wants you to understand something you don’t yet understand, listen. it doesn’t feel good to be out of the loop, i know, but in life lessons aren’t always easy to come by.


  • there are people in every youth-adjacent fandom who actively search for sensitive, precocious young people and exploit them. these people are nearly always charming, intelligent and good listeners. if an adult wants to get very close to someone who hasn’t even completed puberty, you should question why. take their every word with a grain of salt. no matter how smart you are, they have an agenda and can outfox you. abuse isn’t always a dark figure in the corner whispering murderous things in your ear. usually, abuse comes in the form of someone very close to you doing things you won’t even notice except in hindsight.


  • there are also adults who genuinely do care about you and can act as mentors or surrogate older siblings. if you insist on talking to people much older than you, know the difference.


  • don’t lie about your age in order to get adults to talk to you. this puts people in a potentially illegal situation and endangers you.


  • block anyone who makes you feel uncomfortable. you don’t owe yourself or anyone else an explanation. trust your intuition. 


(this post is okay to reblog!)

SELF-REFLECTION SPREAD

I mostly use tarot as a tool for personal introspection. Even people who don’t believe in divination of any kind can use tarot as an aid to explore different perspectives to a situation or even their own psyche. These are some things which I believe I need to confront about myself before achieving any real personal growth.

1. FIXATE

What are the parts of yourself or your life that you tend to get hung up about. Confronting yourself can be good, but overly obsessing on a particular problem or aspect of yourself can inhibit growth. 

2. IGNORE

Conversely, what do you tend to push to the side. This can go both ways: some are unable to see the good things in themselves or their lives, while others gloss over their faults and avoid addressing their problems. 

3. FALSE

What are the things we think to be true about ourselves, or our lives that are not. These are often negative qualities, a lot of people think they are less capable, less deserving or less worthy than they really are. 

4. DECIPHER

What about ourselves have we yet to understand. Everyone has some things about themselves which they don’t yet fully grasp or cannot quite put to words.

5. WANT

What do we most want from ourselves and our lives. The things we wish were more true about ourselves or that we aspire to be. This is a long process to achieve, and part of that is learning that we can’t just skip to this step, we need to deal with the other parts of ourselves too, including the undesirable parts, before we can achieve true personal growth.

Note: Tarot is not a substitute for professional counselling and other forms of licensed therapy! Feel free to use it as a complimentary practice (unless otherwise advised), but do not rely on it as your sole means of treatment if you believe you need professional counselling.             

✨don’t remove my caption or repost anywhere else!✨

psa for the yoi fandom: russian names & how to use them

Russian guides: masterpost | patronyms | terms of affection | answered asks

I’m going to start by swearing this isn’t me just complaining but a general resource for the Yuri on Ice fandom because I’ve noticed some mistakes in the naming conventions used among the fandom and want to help correct them. Especially in how the fandom treats diminutives. I absolutely love seeing the huge amount of interest in Russian diminutives, etc. in fanart and fics and hopefully this breakdown will help continue that trend and interest and even spur some more ideas in fandom content.

So let’s go through some important details below the cut!

Keep reading

Baby Girl (Jungkook/Reader)

Prompt: May I request a Jungkook smut in which you are bf and he has always seen you just as a kid because you’re younger than him. He doesn’t mind being shirtless around you or you hearing him talk about the last night’s girl with a friend. To the point of you getting so frustrated about him not treating you as a woman and plainly thinking of you as his cute and innocent girl friend that one day you start dry humping him saying something along the lines: do I still look that innocent to you (oppa)? thx

Genre: Smut, Slight Angst, Slight Humor, College!Au, Best Friends!Au

Words: 3.5K+

Author: Admin Nan

Summary: It was a boiling summer day you realized your attraction for the cute, older boy next door. 

Tags: Swearing, Dry humping, Thigh riding, Sub!Kook, Oppa, Park Jimin - Reader Discretion is advised.

Originally posted by jeonsshi


Keep reading

You Who... [M] (ft. Jeongguk)

Drabble Game Prompt 96. “Here, let me.” with badboy/jock!jeongguk

→ badboy football jk (warning: overstimulation, cumplay, fluff, and fuckingjeonjungkook)
→ 1.4k words prequel part 01 | 02

A/N: i have no idea where this came from, my hand sort of slipped, jfc what have i done 

UPDATE: added the highly-requested prequel as a thank you for 1k+ notes :) make sure to check out Give and Take! It’s a similar AU to this one! 


“There you go, yes, you can do it babe,” Jeongguk encourages, as you bite down on your lip.  

He grins up at you as you move your hips slowly against his, finding the way you squeeze your eyes shut tightly the cutest thing ever. 

“J-jeongguk I-I can’t–” you stutter, arms clutching at his bare shoulders as your movements stutter and begin to slow down. But you whimper instead at the loss of friction between your legs and begin to cry tears of frustration as you don’t know whether to continue grinding against him and chase after another orgasm or to stop completely. 

He just laughs huskily from beneath you, and wipes a tear from your cheek and presses a quick peck to your chin as you make up your mind and your movements continue. His head dips down to press open-mouthed kisses against your collarbone, painting the skin there in blossoms of red and pink. “Shh,” he grates against your neck, a gentle hand coming up to stroke down your spine and settling on the curve of your hip to firmly help guide you up and down his cock. “you got this.” 

He’s in awe as he watches you desperately move against him, your soft breasts and nipples brushing up against his hard chest and melting him on the spot. It’s been years since he’s met you and only a few months since the both of you finally started having sex, but he’s secretly delighted at how sensitive you are and how desperate you are to pleasure the both of you. He wants to spread you out and fuck you with his fingers and tongue and make you cum over and over until you’re screaming hoarsely or tie you down onto the bed and tease you for hours until you’re begging for him, but he smiles as he relishes in actually convincing you to top him for once. 

Cause this time he’s being a little selfish and pushing the boundaries on how far he can take you because he’s currently coaxing your through your third orgasm and is harder than he’s ever been in his life as he watches you in tears because you’re desperate to reach the peak once again. 

You muffle your cries in in his neck and thread your fingers in his hair as you feel the wave approaching again. “Jeongguk, ‘m gonna come,” you murmur breathlessly, making his dick clench at how fucking submissive you sound to him right now. He whispers sooth encouragements into your ear and moves his hips up to meet yours just right and grazes the spot inside of you that has you cringing and sighing into his neck as he grunts when you clamp down on him and bite gently into his shoulder to muffle your cries. 

The orgasm is stronger than the last two he brought you to with his fingers and his mouth, respectively, as the feeling of his skin beneath your fingertips and the sheer rawness of his length brushing your walls makes you clamp down on his girth harder than you’ve ever come before. You cry out and clench your teeth and you’re going through your third intense wave of your orgasm when suddenly he flips the both of you over and pins your hips to his bed and begins to pound into you desperately.

His voice is strained and his hairline slick with sweat as he props himself up above you and glares determinedly into your face thats scrunched up in pleasure, moving his hips against you until he reaches his own peak. You feel his dick twitch once before he’s letting out a loud groan and a strangled cry of your name before his chest pulses for a moment and then he slumps down onto you. 

The both of you are spent and you’re still crying from the overwhelming feeling of being coaxed through three orgasms, with the third being the most intense you’ve ever felt in your life, and your chest heaves from the effort it took. Jeongguk is no better, as he pulls out of you with a groan and kneels between your legs. 

Taking advantage of your slumped and exhausted state, he pushes up a thigh and leans down a bit to see how his cum leaks out of your slit and grasps his cock that hasn’t softened yet with a groan. He gently holds the base of his sensitive member and collects the cum that’s already oozed out onto your thigh with his tip before pushing it back into you. 

You let out a strangled cry, a hand coming up to your mouth so you can muffle your cries, and another desperately clutching onto the wrist holding onto your thigh. He pauses, glancing up at your expression and waiting for you to push him away, but a slight movement of your wrist draws your thigh higher up and his hips a bit closer to you. Grinning, he grasps his softening cock once again and drags his tip from your upper thigh back into your slit, massaging his own cum into your center. 

When he’s completely limp and cringing himself from the overstimulation of pushing himself back into your pussy, he drops your thigh and climbs back up, whispering sweet things into your ear. 

“Baby, you were so good,” he coos, smoothing back your hair and wiping leftover tears. “You deserved that, you were so hot. Here, let me,” he gets a warm towel from the restroom and wipes down your thighs and core before dressing you in his t-shirt (a sight which he’ll never admit he absolutely loves) and pulling on a pair of boxers before climbing into bed with you and pulling you into his chest.

“I loved it.” 

You hiccup, breath short from the sensitivity but also from your tears. “You did?” 

And he thinks its the damned cutest thing ever, how even if you were an innocent girl he’d never thought he’d date, you suddenly turned into a sex starved shyer version of yourself because of him, and then returned back to the sweet blushing one he’d fallen in love with even after hours of rough sex and the dirtiest things. It absolutely fucking thrills him and makes his dick so hard whenever he brings you to too many orgasms, when you reach the point where you dont know whether to stop or continue, or to cry or kiss him. He’s had his fair share of flings and sexcapades, but he knows that the only girl who’s ever made him so whipped, the only girl who’s gotten Jeon Jeongguk wrapped around her tiny little finger, is you. 

You who he began to tease and flirt with as a joke, but ended up falling so damn hard for you after just a partner project where you ended up sympathizing with him and treating him like a real fucking human being, and not the football athlete that everyone worshipped and expected so much out of. You who always looked at him, past his body and face and extracurriculars, and into his soul and really truly understood who he was at the core. You who drunkenly kissed him one night underneath the stars and you who’s cheeks went furiously red when he kissed you again in front of the entire school. You who weren’t afraid of telling him when he was being too cocky or just a dick, and made sure to keep him in check, to the point that his teammates were commenting on what a kind softie he was becoming. 

And finally, you who he found himself hopelessly irrevocably in love with. 

And he looks down at you, with your bare face that’s not really anything special. Eyes, nose, and lips that are average, hair that’s common, and a body that others will say they’ve seen better. But its the way you look at him with your eyes that makes him love you. The way you press your nose against his neck when you cuddle with him and the way you shyly move your soft lips against him when you kiss him goodbye. It’s the way your hair feels like absolute silk underneath his fingers when he runs his hands through them when you’re asleep, and the way your entire body literally lights up and bends at his will and his only

Those are the things, amongst many, that made the high and mighty bad boy Jeon Jeongguk fall in love with you. 

So he cups your face and smiles as he pecks against your lips, peppering your face with them until you giggle and shriek against his attack. Laughing, he draws you close. 

“I did, because I fucking love you.”


Prequel: 01 & 02 [fin], Give and Take[M]

learning vocabulary from reading

hey guys! I just commented on someone’s post about this, and I realized I haven’t shared my method with y’all yet. I started doing this recently, with Jane Eyre in spanish! there’s a lot of words I don’t know, so this is really helping me! hopefully it comes in handy for you guys, too!

step 1: read the passage.

obviously, to learn vocabulary, you need to read the vocabulary you’re learning. but here’s the thing: don’t stop to learn the vocabulary. i want you to read the entire passage and try to understand it as best you can. you need that reading practice, too!

something my spanish teacher taught me is that when you immerse yourself in something that’s challenging and “monotonous”, you get overwhelmed very easily and do worse than you would if you slowed down at worked at your own pace. (monotonous meaning without change, i don’t mean to say it’s boring. the idea is if you stare at the same page for too long, you zone out.) she said that listening is the hardest, because students can only pay attention for ~30 seconds before getting stuck and being unable to focus on the rest of the listening. (because of this, she pauses the listening every once in a while to ask questions).  

because of this, it’s best to section off your reading in chunks. if it’s a short article, you can read the whole thing through. but if you’re reading a challenging book, where the chapters are more than a few pages, you’ll want to break it up - or else you’ll forget what you’re doing!

step 2: underline unknown words.

you can do this during or after reading. for me, i haven’t figured out which works best yet. go through the section and underline any words you don’t know - even if you could guess their meaning from context. basically, anything you haven’t studied. if you can’t think of the word in your target language while speaking in conversation, you should probably underline it. 

if done during reading: make sure you don’t focus on the unknown words! underline them in passing while trying to understand the reading as a whole.

step 3: make a list of those words!

you can do this in the margins or on a separate piece of paper. you’ll want to make the list so that there’s the unknown word, then room for two more words, then however much space you want between your list items. (for instance, using 4 lines on a page: unknown word / space to write / space to write / space between vocab words

step 4: guess the meaning!!

this is what that extra space is for! go back through the passage and try to understand the unknown words. write what you think the words mean, either by literal translation to your native language, or describing the meaning in a phrase. this is super important because it forces you to practice using context to understand unknown words, and your basic knowledge of the language to understand things like whether it’s a noun or verb, singular, plural, etc. when using the language in real-time situations, you can’t just pull out a dictionary!

step 5: look up the words

plain and simple, use that final space to write the literal definitions. you might want to rearrange the order of your list, like putting the definition and the word side-by-side or something so you can study more easily. in the end, your guess doesn’t really matter; it was the act of guessing that made you improve.

(optional) step 6: check your answers

now, you can go through the list and see what you guessed right! you can be loose with how you measure yourself - for instance, if you didn’t know the word for “bush” but you guessed “some kind of plant,” by my standards that would be correct. you’re not going for the exact perfect meaning; that’s nearly impossible. but you got the basic idea of what it was describing, and that’s what matters. 

totally optional, but one (arbitrary, probably meaningless) way i measure progress is by making a score for myself for each passage. correct guesses out of unknown words (in a percentage). hopefully by the end of the book, my average will go up!

step 6 ½: study!

finallyyyy, study the words! use your own methods. if you like quizlet or memrise, make yourself a deck using your list. personally, I use Anki, and I have a separate deck from my vocab list deck, meant for miscellaneous vocab that i learn from reading and speaking. on the other hand, if you like playing memory games to learn vocab, or writing the word over and over - more power to you! i’m not here to tell you how to study vocab, just to help you get a better grasp on it when you first come across it.

i hope this helps! happy studying!! <3

{PART 18} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; The crowning moment arises when you and Jungkook arrive at the fundraising ball; but the storm clouds gather as you come face to face with your greatest fear.

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time) 

{Part 1} // {Part 17} {Part 18} {Part 19}

Keep reading

Haven Craft’s Tips for Beginner Witches, Part One

Tips for Beginner Witches

Let’s start with this – I am not the witch Pope. I cannot speak for the witchcraft community as a whole; only for my own tradition.

5 Things I Believe Beginner Witches Should Ask Themselves

Note that the answers to these things will change, but that a firm grasp of the answers at any point in your practice may be helpful to you. I recommend actually writing your answers down, and every now and again check back and see if your stance has shifted.

1. Is magick real?

If yes, then what do you mean when you say, “Magick is real”. (Do you mean that you can effect reality with your will, intent, and energy? Do you mean like, Harry Potter real? What will disappoint you to realize might not be probable? What will inspire you to realize you can accomplish?)

2. Where are your lines? (What do you firmly believe is true/false, right/wrong? Violence, doing harm, controlling others, etc. Would you punch someone if they threatened a friend? Would you curse someone if they threatened a friend? What would you do, if your coven head told you it was right but you felt it was wrong?)

3. What are you looking for in a magickal path? (Pro Tip – no one has all the answers and there is no one right way.)

4. What are you prepared to do in order to accomplish your goals? (How many spoons do you have to give this practice? Can you devote one night a week, are you going to randomly pick stuff up on Tumblr, are you going to leave society to pursue your studies under a waterfall, etc.)


I recommend that no one make any oaths or vows in their first year of practice. Get to know yourself, how you feel about magick, and what you actually want to do before you do any big commitments. (Historic anecdote – this is what the original year and a day was for.) More strident, but still personal, recommendation: if someone tries to get you to oath to them within your first week of being a witch, run.


Things People Should Tell Beginner Witches, But Often Don’t

1. Don’t be afraid to change your mind.

2. Don’t throw good energy after bad by continuing to do something that isn’t right for you.

3. Don’t be afraid to continue your education, even if that means learning something that was right for you before is no longer right for you.

4. There is no one right way to do this. There is no Witch Pope - there is no dogmatic enforcement of the path to being a witch.

5. There are absolutely as many assholes in Paganism and witchcraft as there are anywhere else. Don’t think that these people are all spiritually enlightened beings who mean you well and who will give good advice.

6. Yahoo Answers is not your friend. You have the internet – which has access to both all of human information and all of human misinformation. Look for credible sources. Anything that seems too easy or too good to be true probably is. Work on critical thinking.

7. Try Scholar.Google.Com over “this article says so on Patheos.com.” Seriously, recently an article on there claimed Friday the 13th was a sacred holiday in goddess centered pre-Christian Paganism before the patriarchy ruined it. There is no historical validation for that, but a bunch of witches reblogged it. (Things you learn from scholarly sources rather than the latest poorly edited Llewellyn mess: the Burning Times didn’t happen, different kinds of Pagans warred amongst themselves long before Christianity came onto the scene, there was no great unified Pagan religion before Christianity, and Gerald Gardner was probably lying about almost everything he said.)


You Should Probably Learn the Difference Between Paganism, Wicca, and Witchcraft

What is Paganism?

Pagan is an umbrella term for a member of a religious, spiritual, or cultural community, other than those of the main world religions, so:

Non-Abrahamic – it is not Christian, Catholic, Jewish, Muslim, or Mormon

Non-Eastern – it is not Buddhism, Hinduism, Taoism, Sufism, or Sikhism

Theistic – The belief in some kind of divine power, which is sometimes polytheistic (a belief in more than one god), but not always

Some Pagans practice witchcraft – others do not.

This definition isn’t quite right, though it’s in hugely common usage, because there are Abrahamic and Eastern persons who consider themselves Pagan. Keep in mind that there will be exceptions to this definition and that those exceptions are valid.

There are also secular Pagans, so it isn’t even always Theistic. I know – it’s complicated. Though this is the largely accepted Academic definition, it doesn’t really work when applied to the real world, if you’re considering someone saying, “I’m Pagan” as a self-identifying definition, which I do. 

Wicca

Wicca is a religion. Most people consider Wicca as falling under the Paganism umbrella, although not all Pagans are Wiccan. Not all Wiccans are witches, and not all witches are Wiccan.

Wiccan is generally defined as:

Dualistic – There is a God and a Goddess

Pacifistic – Wicca has a rede that requires Wiccan do no harm to themselves or others, though not all Wiccans (such as those who follow Doreen Valiente’s suggested guidelines) are Pacifistic, so there are definitely exceptions to this

Earth-based – Having a respect for and acknowledgment of the powers of the Earth

Witchcraft

The spiritual or secular art, craft, and/or practice of the witch, defined many ways by many different people.

A witch is a witch who says they are one.

Again, there is no witch Pope and no witchy excommunication because you define yourself as a witch differently than someone else does.

Yes, male identifying and/or presenting persons can be witches.


Pagan and Witch Fallacies

There are certain ideas that most beginners in the witchcraft community will encounter over and over again. I’m going to run down some things – with the reminder, again, that I can only speak for my personal tradition.

1. “You should remove all negative influences from your life! You should purge all negative feelings! Be positive all the time!” Not everything that is negative is bad. Not everything negative can be avoided – we can’t all just quit our jobs and live in a witch shack in the mountains. We have to endure negative things, both because it is healthier to experience the full range of human emotion rather than to ignore a large chunk of it, and because it isn’t possible. What we should do is stop victim blaming witches who are going through hard times and stop telling witches they can’t be angry when they encounter something that should be angering.

2. “But, tradition!” Just because an affluent white guy in the 1400-1600s said something, doesn’t mean you should do it. We don’t follow their medicinal advice anymore; we don’t have to follow their magickal advice either. Seriously, I don’t care if tradition says a trans woman shouldn’t be in a sky clad ritual – that’s bullshit. We don’t put leeches on our bodies anymore – let’s leave the past nonsense where it belongs.

3. “We have to make sure everyone feels included and welcome!” Not if they abuse the welcome of others, we do not. The problem with making some people feel included and welcome is that you make their victims feel excluded and unwelcome because you’ve made them unsafe.

4. “We have to support each other and love each other and be a positive force in people’s lives.” Okay, yes, in small doses, this is a great aim. It doesn’t work for everyone (some witches are spite and malice fueled and they are still witches), but okay, it’s a nice idea. Until it becomes ableist or demands free emotional labor from people, which it often does.

5. “We have to educate them!” Okay, it’s great that there is this effort in the community to educate others. But if you don’t have the spoons or if it seems like they’re using the demand for their own education as a way to still have access to a community they are abusing, then no, you have no obligation to put their education over your well being. None. They have access to Google (even if they have to go to a library to use it.)

6. “You have to earn your right to be a witch.” No, no you don’t. Seriously, though, from whom? Dusty white men in graves? A Llewellyn author who couldn’t fact check themselves out of a paper bag? Again – no witch Pope. I’m just gonna keep pointing out the lack of a witch Pope until people get it.

7. “You have to be ________ rank, degree, etc. to have an opinion on this topic.” Yeah, okay, I’ll be sure to wave my certificate in your face before having an opinion on my own tradition. No. Your opinion may be an uneducated one and you may be corrected for it, but that doesn’t mean that you didn’t have the right to it before you completed your O levels at Hogwarts.

8. As a corollary to above, “This is just my opinion and you can’t be mad at me for it!” People absolutely have a right to their opinions. And everyone else the right to decide those opinions make them an asshole.

9. “I’m super special and powerful because xyz, which means I get to tell you what to do.” People only get to tell you what to do if you let them. Sometimes, that’s an exchange we willingly make, but other times, people will feel they have the right to tell you what to do because they are a hereditary witch or because they’ve been practicing longer. Just remember – their position doesn’t trump your humanity and you don’t have to kiss the feet of someone who kicks you.

10. “The person really wants _____ from you, and you should help them on their path. Helping them on their path helps you on yours!” Just because someone wants something from you, doesn’t mean they get it. Being a witch doesn’t take away your right to say no.  


Please remember that you don’t have to earn your right to be here. This one is tricky on some level – to be the respected person in your community, you need to put in your time. However, in order to be part of a group you don’t need to give the High Priest a blow job (seriously, run).

You don’t have to earn admission to witchcraft, but you do have to earn specific positions and other people’s trust. If you teach people not to trust you through your actions, they won’t trust you.

The Wedding Night

Ok so @omgkatsudonplease was streaming Pride and Prejudice tonight and lots of Rivals jokes were made as we have established that umfb&mha is actually an accidental Pride and Prejudice AU. And then suddenly we found out that apparently there is an extra scene in the American version that I had never seen before and let me tell you, that Fucked Me Up because I love that film and this new scene kills me. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zg7YhN-I2M0

So what did I do with this new, groundbreaking information? Wrote a Rivals version of this scene of course.

So without further ado may I present to you The Wedding Night scene, otherwise known as my 1am fic rambling and a snippet of what Rivals - Past, Present and Future might be like 



                                       The Wedding Night 


Walking slowly into the room, Viktor finished pulling his shirt off over his head and looked to see where Yuuri was stretched out on the bed before him. Unlike Viktor, Yuuri was still wearing the formal white shirt of the day’s celebrations but his trousers were gone and the shirt was half unbuttoned, giving Viktor a tantalising glimpse of sharp collarbones and smooth, perfect skin. At the sound of his approach, Yuuri turned to face him, eyes softening and face breaking out into a smile as he looked at his once fiancé and now husband.

“Come here,” he murmured and Viktor obeyed, climbing onto the bed to where Yuuri was lying with a slight smirk on his face and arms open invitingly.

“Of course solnyshko,” Viktor breathed, planting a light kiss on Yuuri’s forehead and then laughing a little when Yuuri made a soft noise of protest before reaching down to capture his lips in a much deeper kiss. After a few seconds he pulled away and Yuuri smiled up at him, eyes bright in the darkness of the room.

“You always call me solnyshko,” he teased, running one hand down Viktor’s side and sliding the other up to tangle lightly in his hair. “People might think you’re getting…predictable.”

Keep reading

Sick of Losing You

Plot: Harry and Y/N lost each other when he found someone else.

Warnings: None aside that it kinda broke my heart.

Playlist to the one shot: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL2S-tehb1XqDqkmE4xnz7-SciJy61soVf

Thanks to @interfectorems for being such a good friend, supporter and for requesting this. 
Songs that are mentioned but not on the playlist are “Out of the Woods” by Taylor Swift & “If You don’t Know” by 5Sos.

Pic of this beauty isn’t mine.

I watched from a far how he held on to her hand, his fingers grasping and squeezing hers gently while his eyes never left her pretty face. He watched her speak with such an intensity in his green eyes, as if he literally saw nothing other than her. His girlfriend. Not me.
I took a deep breath, swallowed the thick lump building in my throat and turned away from the sight.
Exactly three weeks ago, Harry and I had shared a kiss. Our first kiss, which had been exactly how I’d secretly always wished for it to be. Of course it had been. Every time you get to kiss the person you love is special and like fireworks painting colors into the sky.

He’d been talking and listening to me all night, similar to how he now was with her and had at some point reached out to hold my hand, just like he was holding hers in this moment.
When the time felt right, he’d leant in and had captured my lips with his. Needless to say, Harry was a phenomenal kisser. He knew when to press further, when to use how much tongue and was very attentive to how my body responded to his. Whenever I thought about it now, my cheeks tingled with the memory of his hands cupping them gently as he cradled my face to keep me close. He’d been so soft, so perfect. Harry had touched me with a tenderness, I thought it’d break my heart. I remembered wrapping my arms around his neck and feeling like they belonged there, like I was meant to hold him close.
Only that I wasn’t. The girl he was with now only proved how insignificant I was.

I couldn’t help peaking and looking over at him again. Harry’s lips. I knew exactly how they felt when pressed against my own, knew their taste and shape. Their warmth. Harry’s touch was impossible to forget.
I watched him kiss his girlfriend with a mesmerized stare, before moving away and into the kitchen, leaving the small gathering of our friends with a murmured excuse that I needed to get a refill of my drink, when in reality I couldn’t bear seeing the man I loved sharing affectionate kisses with someone else.
But not even the kitchen was a safe area for me. t had been this exact kitchen, the one in Harry’s house, where he’d pulled me aside and told me about her for the first time.

“It’s difficult” I think he said. “It’s my fault that this situation has become so messy.”

Was it silly that I could actually still remember every word he spoke to me? That I’d engraved every pause, every take in of breath he made, deeply into my head?

“Listen, Y/N… You’re important to me. I care about you. Need you, it’s just… There is someone. Someone who could be a chance for a relationship and I really want to give this a go. Give her a go, I mean. You can understand that, right?”

At first it’d felt like none of it was real. Because how could he be serious?
Harry. My best friend, Harry.
Only three days after our magical first kiss, three days full of us talking and flirting and texting constantly, he was telling me that he wanted someone else. Her name was Ira. And though he was seemingly behaving the same way with her he had been with me, we weren’t the same. In fact, she was everything I wasn’t. So when he told me he wanted her and not me, that he was picking her over of me, how come I’d been surprised?

I would never be his first choice, not when there were thousands of others he could choose from. And it was time for my brain to learn to not interpret every kind gesture, time to learn to stop overthinking every word. It was time for my head to accept, that there was no way Harry Styles could possibly want me.

So… I had been understanding. Kind even.
I’d lied and told him that yes, I agreed that our kiss had been a mistake. We shouldn’t have done any of that and instead thought of our friendship first, rather than our impulses. I’d kept a smile on my face throughout the entire talk and even finished the short chat by wishing him good luck with her. Another lie.

My fingers shook and so I set the empty glass of my drink down quickly, worried for a moment that I might otherwise spill the last few drops. I didn’t think much when I reached for the bottle of vodka on the counter. There was no getting through this night if I didn’t have something proper to drink. If only I remembered the recipe….

“Need help?”

My shoulders tensed. It couldn’t be him. Please… anyone, literally anyone, but him.

However when I turned around, Harry was there. He stood tall and beautiful, his short hair soft and wavy. Harry’s compelling eyes held my gaze with such a tender rawness in them, my knees weakened. All my body burned for was to wrap my arms around his shoulders and have him embrace me, have him tell me that everything would be okay again. I felt like I needed it, but knew that this was a wish I would be denied. Harry must have felt it, too. It was in the air around us. It had changed and… buzzed. As if being in each other’s presence made the world halt still for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” Harry chuckled lowly when I didn’t say anything. How could he smile like everything was alright?

And what was it he was apologizing for? Abandoning our friendship? Ruining any hope I’d had to find a partner in him? Shattering my heart? Hardly.

“For scaring you,” Harry elaborated, a sudden hint of guilt in his eyes, almost as if he’d read my thoughts.

“It’s fine, Harry,” I muttered, bearing a false smile, “All good.”

It was hard to look at him. Especially his eyes. They burned a whole into my chest whenever my own orbs found them. They reminded me of the Harry he once was, the one I could always come to and rely on.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, his head nodding towards the bottle of vodka. His forehead furrowed in a worried expression and I quickly set the container back down.

“I wanted to make myself a drink, but the recipe slipped my mind. I’m not as much of an alcoholic as it must look like.”

“Good to know,” Harry chuckled, then, visibly thinking about it first, took a step forward. “I remember what you like in your favorite drink. Could make you one.”

From how close he was standing, it was easy to notice every detail of his skin. Every curve of his lips, every hair of his barely-there beard. My stomach turned.

“That’d be nice.”

Harry smiled and nodded. “Okay.”

We avoided any touching. I was leant against the counter, he stood with a safe distance between us and only came closer when he needed a different ingredient that happened to be near me. It was awkward and… weird. It didn’t feel like ‘us’. The friends we’d been once seemed to be two completely different people. I knew him and felt he was familiar, but there was a emotional distance between us I knew neither of us could overcome. And still, I was with him and even if we behaved like strangers, being with Harry was nice.

“I think that’s it,” Harry said, breaking the silence. His eyes were set on the pink-orange liquid in my glass, then they drifted to my face. A proud smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

“You 'think’?” I challenged shyly.

I took the glass from him (cautious not to touch his fingers) and took a sip. It tasted great.

“M'not big of a show off,” Harry grinned, “S'it good?”

I nodded and stirred the colored liquid once more. “Thanks, Harry.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” His voice was soft and his gaze shy.

The air around us shifted once more. My eyes teared up. What had happened to us? Harry and I… we used to be the kind of friends who didn’t stopped talking to each other for hours. At first, we’d be loud. We’d laugh and giggle so much eventually both of our tummies hurt. That was when we’d change the subject and speak more quietly, until several hours later our conversations drifted to topics only we were allowed to hear. Then we’d be whispering and sitting closer together, always an eager sparkle in the other’s eyes as we both listened with interest about what was being said.

I quickly turned away and pretended to yawn. My eyes blinked rapidly and I willed them not to cry in front of him. Not because of embarrassment, but because I couldn’t do that to him. I’d given him my okay. I had no right to be mad at him for having found someone else. Harry remained standing close and with his hands in the front pockets of his black jeans.

“I think I should go,” I muttered.

I held my head low and took a deep breath before looking at him briefly. Harry’s eyes held concern and his fingers twitched, as if he longed to reach out for me.

“Y/N, love,” he began lowly, “Do you think we could talk for a bit? S'been a while since I got to see you. Hear your voice. I missed you.”

This time when my eyes met his green orbs, I didn’t look away, even though I could feel the tears forming and coming closer to spilling over. Harry’s whole expression changed. His cheeks paled and his forehead furrowed deeper.

“I miss you, too, Harry,” I admitted, my weak voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” he mumbled, shaking his head slowly, sorrow deeply set in his eyes. His feet stepped closer and his warm hands touched my flushed cheeks before I even had the chance to back away from him. The unexpected closeness caught me off guard and had more tears coming, this time because of how much I hated how uncommon this sort of care from him had become.

Harry embraced me. His head buried itself into my neck and both arms wrapped themselves around my waist so he could lift me up from my feet. “Please no, Y/N, Sweetheart. Don’t cry.”

I couldn’t help it. My heart, the final bit that had been whole still, broke in his caring hands and I was overcome and pulled under a wave of grief. That was what I was doing. I was grieving our friendship and the lost hope I’d had for a relationship with him. And he allowed it. He let me cry against his collarbones without any complaint and instead began to hum quietly, knowing how much his voice always soothed me. Pain shot through my chest. He probably did the same when she was upset.

“I can’t-” I cried, but got cut off by my lungs that burned with need for air.

Harry hushed me, his hold tightening, “Don’t, Y/N. It’s going to be alright.”

I shook my head and loosened the hold I’d taken around his neck. My hands momentarily brushed his soft hair, then I pulled away. Harry hesitated but allowed me to step out of his hold.

“I can’t take it anymore, Harry,” I confessed, my voice breaking halfway through the sentence. I reached up to brush my cheeks with the end of my sleeve and hiccuped. My head felt numb and I knew if I didn’t get out of this kitchen soon, he’d witness a break down I wasn’t comfortable with him seeing.

Harry’s hand reached for my arm. I didn’t fight it when he pulled me closer to him, but avoided his eyes when he leaned down to find my gaze.

“Y/N,” he spoke, his voice rough with emotion, “I promise you, it’ll be alright. M'not leaving, okay? M'not. We’ll figure this out.”

I wanted to scream but all I could was shake my head rapidly. “Figure this out how? What have we become, Harry?”

Another sob wrecked through my chest.

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “But we’re going to find each other again, okay? I promise. Let me say goodbye to the others and then we’ll go for a walk or something. We’ll talk. About everything and nothing at all… Just like we always used to, yeah?”

Used to. So long ago, it seemed.

“Okay,” I whispered, my burning eyes set on my feet. My skin shivered under his warmth and my lips hurt from how much I was bitting them.

I flinched when his mouth pressed a kiss to my head. The skin was left with a burning sensation. “Wait for me here, love.”

Harry’s quick feet carried him out of the kitchen and left me standing by the counter with my heart at the pit of my stomach. I stood up straight and brushed the few remaining tears from my cheeks. My skin tingled and I felt the hint of a smile on my lips, even though my body ached.
Looking back now, I wish I would have stayed put by the counter and had waited for him just like he’d asked me to. I wish I hadn’t been impatient and eager to reunite with Harry, because that eagerness drove me to exit the kitchen shortly after him and turn the corner, allowing me clear view into the living room.
There he stood. His arms around her thin form, his hands in her long hair and his lips kissing hers. All air was knocked right out of me. I could see how his hands gently moved against her neck, bringing her in closer and their bodies flush together. When their lips parted for a moment, I could see how he let his tongue run along his lower lip, as if he wanted to make sure he got all of her taste. And I could see him smile warmly at her, right before he leaned back in to connect their mouths once more. This sight… it burned.
I didn’t wait for him. Because I had been wrong before. My heart wasn’t truly broken until that moment, witnessing the man I loved with my everything, kissing a woman who wasn’t me. And if he wasn’t going to leave me, if he was just going to keep me close and allow my heart to shatter over and over again, then I supposed I would have to be the one to go first.
So that’s what I did. I walked back to the entryway, slid on my jacket, picked up my bag, and left the house. Left, to never come back to Harry Styles.

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Come Back to Me (Part Six)

Fandom: Marvel
Ship: Peter Parker x Reader
Requested: Yes
Genre: Angstish
Warnings: None

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten

Originally posted by stallingdemons

Peter and you had pretended that what you had been calling in your head “The Incident” never happened. He never repeated the words of “I always worry about you”, you never held his arm in your grip for more than a mere few seconds, he never cradled your face with his hands, and you never realized you loved him. To the two of you, it was like the day never existed.

You both moved on, acting as you normally would, but you were much more conscious of your actions. You thought Peter was, too. You didn’t act on impulse and grab his arm, or hand, or lean into him without thinking. And he didn’t leave you with small touches as he walked past you in the hallway, or ask constantly with a blatant worried expression how you were doing.

And you didn’t mind. You were best friends, not lovers. You didn’t mind.

“What’s up with you and Peter?” Ned suddenly appeared next to you as you stood in line to get on the bus, ready for the school field trip to take up the day of classes.

“I- what?” You asked, looking at him confusedly. You weren’t sure why he was asking this.

“You and Peter. You guys have been acting weird around each other lately. What happened?”

You still looked at him, confused. “Nothing happened. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Did you tell him you liked him or something, because-”

“Shhh!” You hushed him immediately, placing your hands over his mouth. “Someone could hear you!”

He grabbed your wrists, removing them from his mouth, but still holding onto them. “Just tell him already,” he said, quieter this time.

“You know I can’t do that, Ned,” you replied back, furrowing your eyebrows.

You loved him, you loved him, you loved him.

You tried to push the thought out of your mind, and you had been trying to do so ever since “The Incident”. But with the words continuously repeating in your head, day in and day out, you didn’t think they would ever leave.

“I think-”

“Hey guys,” you heard Peter’s voice from behind you and whipped your head towards him, worried about how much of the conversation he had heard. As you and Ned both looked at him, he met neither of your eyes. His were trained one where Ned’s hands were clasped around your wrists.

You turned your eyes back to look at Ned, and both of your eyes widened when you realized what Peter was staring at. He let you rip your wrists from his grasp, and he shoved his hands into his pockets after letting yours go. You looked down at the ground nervously. 

“What’s up?” Ned spoke, looking at Peter. You took a few seconds to compose yourself before looking at him too. His eyebrows were furrowed as he looked between the two of you.

“Uh, nothing, I just,” he didn’t look either of you in the eye. “Ned, want to sit with me on the bus?”

You bit your lip. You remembered that you and Peter had agreed to sit on the bus together just last week. You didn’t say anything when Ned said, “Sure.”

You looked down at the ground as Ned moved in front of you to stand next to Peter, and you were stood behind them as they spoke in lightning speed between them. That was never how it was with you and Peter. The two of you would speak slowly, listening intently to each other’s words to not miss even a detail of what was said. 

You liked it that way. You liked how Peter would furrow his eyebrows lightly, biting his lip as he stared at you, looking as if he was concentrating to all of his ability, solely on you. You liked how he would murmur little “mhm”s as you would go on, and he would only start speaking when he was sure you were done. You liked how he listened to you.

It was a vast difference from seeing him now, and you wondered which way he preferred: fast-paced with Ned, or slow-paced with you. You always thought he preferred how he spoke with you, but now, seeing him grin with Ned as they easily threw words back at each other within seconds, you weren’t so sure.

You looked down at the ground sadly. You never remembered feeling so lonely before, especially with Peter always making sure to include you in everything. You turned around and walked out of the line without saying anything to the two boys who seemed to not even notice you leave. You glanced behind your shoulder as you were walking away, but you were only greeted by the sight of Peter still grinning at Ned.

“Hey, (Y/N),” you heard a voice say ahead of you and you looked up to see Michelle waiting in line, a few people back from where you previously stood, with a book in her hands.

“Oh, hey,” you forced a smile on your face, but the only thought that was bombarding your mind was, 

You love him. He doesn’t love you. You love him. He doesn’t love you.

“Want to sit with me?” She asked, a knowing smile on her face. You gave her a real smile in response, moving into the space next to her.

“Thanks, MJ,” you said softly, head leaning back down to aim at the floor.

“He looked back at you,” she said, opening her book and beginning to read it. She stared down at it as you lifted your head to stare at her.

“What?” You asked, confused.

“Peter,” she elaborated, and your heart sped up at the mention of his name.

You needed to get this under control.

“What about Peter?” You asked, looking ahead of the line at him and Ned, where you saw them still talking.

“He looked back at you when you turned around and came my way.”

Your eyes widened the smallest bit. You didn’t want to believe her words so easily, because for all you could know, she was only telling you this to cheer you up. But still, you found your sadness deflate slightly.

“No, he didn’t,” you said, trying to convince yourself. “I turned around and looked. He was still talking to Ned.”

“Right when you turned around and started walking away,” she said. She was still looking at her book, but you weren’t so sure she was actually reading it. “He looked at you for a second. And when you turned around to look at him, he turned back around to Ned.” 

“I, uh,” you stumbled over your words, not quite knowing what to think.

Why hadn’t he said anything? You and Peter would always be immediate to speak up if noticing something was wrong with the other. Neither of you ever hesitated on that. So why had he today?

“He looked at me,” you said monotonously, but Michelle knew it was a question. She knew you needed to hear it again.

“He looked at you,” she replied. She looked up from her book for a few moments to meet your eyes. “He looked a little worried to me, if I’m being honest.” She quirked her eyebrow at you for a quick second, smirking lightly, before looking back down at her book.

You looked back down to the ground, thinking.

But why didn’t he say anything?

***************************
I know it may seem like it’s taking a while for them to get together (or will they end up together?), but I want to make sure it’s realistic enough. After being friends for years, neither of them would want to chance ruining their friendship so easily by confessing after not being completely sure about themselves—and each other—yet. I hope you guys understand that! Let me know what you guys think of this one and voice your opinions! Whether they’re good or bad, I want to hear them! Requests are open, and if you guys want to send something from a prompt list I reblog, please let me know which list you’re asking from!

~e

dutch gothic
  • You go to HEMA for office supplies. You go to HEMA for bed sheets. You go to HEMA for bread. You go to HEMA always, for everything, every day. There is no other shop. There is only HEMA.

  • You cycle to school. You cycle to HEMA. You cycle to your friends. You cycle to the big city closest to your tiny town. You cycle to the train station. You cycle to your grandparents. Your bike has broken down more times than you can count, yet, you keep cycling.

  • You take public transport to somewhere too far away to cycle. You’re inexplicably unnerved by this fact. You look out the window and you spot a mill on green stretches of land. You see another mill and another mill and another. You’re approaching the city center. Still, you see mills. You accept this, as everyone seems to do.

  • You enter Utrecht central station. You wonder if you are on an airport. You walk along the platforms, heading for platform 1. You don’t notice 6 and 10 and 13 are missing: no one ever does. And if they do, they don’t question this. Hours pass. You’re still walking toward platform 1. You thank god NS makes sure the trains are always late, so you’ll make it just in time. You arrive at the platform. “+10” it days on the sign. You sigh. You wait another 10 minutes and look again. “+20”, it says.

  • At the end of the basis school you take The Test. Your parents are more nervous than you. They tell you this Test dictates your entire future. The news tells you the same in a grave, slightly more ominous voice. You’re twelve years old.

  • When you’re in middelbare school, you notice the seniors suddenly disappear for approximately two weeks each year to perform a secret ritual in the largest room of the building. There are signs outside of this room warning you not to enter. You are frightened as the years pass, senior year coming increasingly closer; your fate uncertain as you finally enter the Forbidden Room. You cry. It’s the two most nerve-wrecking weeks of your life.

  • Everyone wants to go on holiday to the united states. Only a few chosen (read: rich) go. You ask them how it was and they tell you strange tales of shops other than HEMA, such as “target” and “costco”; of guns on display in supermarkets; how no one owns a bike. You stare, shaken, in disbelief and shock.

  • It’s the first real day of summer. It’s 20°C and kind of cloudy. You go to the beach. Everyone goes to the beach. You’re stuck in traffic for hours: everyone is headed for the same beach.

  • When you get to the beach, the water is cold as ice and there are jellyfish in the water. There are jellyfish on the sand. There are jellyfish in that shallow pool over there. There are jellyfish everywhere. You come back the next day. The jellyfish have vanished.

  • You’re sitting in the sun under a half broken windscreen. A few meters away, a boy is digging a hole. This means that the boy is german, you’ve learned. You look to your left. There, another german man digging a hole. And another. You smile ruefully. What would the beach be without germans digging holes? This is all very normal.

  • You go on holiday to another country. People think you’re german. You’ve accepted this. People always think you’re german. I’m Dutch, you say. They don’t understand. They laugh. You’re from germany right? They ask.

  • Stroopwafels seem to have built an international reputation. Foreigners adore them. You don’t understand. They’re cookies. Very good ones, yes. But the adoration for anything Dutch is something you cannot grasp.

  • There is a song about a guy named Herman reading in the newspaper that the man he’d sold his car to has crashed it and died. Everyone think Herman is dead, though. This makes him very happy. No one questions this fact. No one wonders if he tells his family he’s alive. No one asks who identified the body. Everyone knows the lyrics to this song.
Try to rip people off with shady flipped houses? Watch me flip your bank account.

So I don’t think this is entirely pro, but this just happened and I’m quite pleased with myself. Sorry for how long it is, I’m a wordy person.

Background: my girlfriend and I have been trying to buy a house for a month or two. Housing market where we live is tough, we don’t have a huge income, most houses sell within 24 hours, etc so it’s been a struggle. About a month and a half ago we found a house that was PERFECT. In the neighborhood we wanted, 2 bed 2 bath, at the very top of our price range but still doable, etc etc. Best part is that it’s beautifully renovated, new roof, everything is new and gorgeous! We put in an offer, but get outbid by someone else (which is crushing, if you have yet to experience that).

We mourn and then continue searching for other houses….until we get a call from our agent saying that the other buyers backed out and the seller is offering it to us first before putting it back on the market.

A quick important note here: the seller is the owner, but is also acting as his own real estate agent, and he runs his own business buying foreclosures and flipping them. This is important later.

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