but oh well this is nice too

loving you {leaves me hurt}

A/N You should probably listen to Drive by Oh Wonder to clue in even earlier about Logan and Roman’s positions in this fic. Also, I really like this one.

Pairing: background/mentioned moxiety, one-sided royality, one-sided logince

Genre: angst, some hurt/comfort (but mostly angst. even when there’s comforting there’s underlying angst whoops.)

Word Count: 1640

Warnings: putting self in dangerous situations, swearing, crying… ANGST

Summary:

Roman can’t understand why Logan cares because he thinks he hates him. Logan doesn’t disagree, but he also doesn’t leave. 


Roman blindly grabs a blade from his collection and lets his room fade into a training arena. Opposite him is a straw dummy, held together with strings and rags. With a snap of his fingers, music starts blaring, and he charges at the object.

He swings his sword with no precision and little care, letting his hurt fuel his rage which in turn fuels his strikes, effectively destroying his creation in mere moments. He waves a hand and it resets, and he goes at it again, relishing in the tearing sound the rags make and the clang of the sword against the metal pole holding up the dummy. The jarring pain of his arms whenever this happens gives Roman something tangible to focus on, and he finds himself hitting the pole more. He can’t distinguish whether or not he’s doing it on purpose, but it doesn’t matter, because the dummy is unrecognisable again.

Keep reading

Found this on Google image. It was one of many I purged down the drain because it was demanded of me when my previous relationship still had any bit of substance or so I thought. It’s just one of many. I’m sure I can’t ever get some back and there were a few that looked nice too. Oh well

shelomit  asked:

(if you're still doing book recommendations): being low on self-made hope these days, I could use some hopeful fiction.

oh man. well. I don’t know if I read much, honestly; either I read things with Super Downer Endings because I love melodramatic tension or things with too little emotional heft to be either hopeful or not hopeful; but if you read fantasy and haven’t read The Goblin Emperor I’d say that - it’s beautifully written and it’s about how you can overcome a nasty court by the power of being nice and also still get a happy ending.

anonymous asked:

Heyyy are u ok? I just noticed you arent online as much? Maybe im just making stuff up, just making sure, hope youre fine!:D

Hello!! Oh my you’re too nice ; ^ ; well i’ve been working my ass off on the zine works, also I started a “little” witch!au comic, which for sure will take me another week. On the other hand i’m looking for a job now because i’m an unemployed graduate who is in desperate need of money. So, yup i’m okay :) i just didn’t have enough time to spend it on tumblr. Thank you for asking though!! 💜 i thought nobody notices that stuff tbh

10

some of my fav cast tweets from 2.10    [all episodes]

bonus:

When making your brother an ARMY backfires …

Me: Mom, after the divorce, when you leave Dad, you don’t plan on staying single forever, do you?

Mom: I’ve never thought about it, why?

Me: Well, there’s this guy. A Korean guy.

Mom: A Korean guy?

Me: Yeah, can I set you up with him?

Mom: Uh, how on Earth did you get in contact with a Korean man? We live in South-Asia.

Me: I have my ways.

Mom: I need details.

Me: Well, he’s 45 years old, you’re 40. It could work out.

Mom: Name?

Me: Bang Shi Hyuk.

Mom: Anything else? Has he been married before?

Me: Nope. He has seven sons, though.

Mom: S-SEVEN SONS? HOW DID HE END UP WITH SO MANY? THATS LIKE A WOLF PACK!

Me: No, they’re all older than me. And very well-behaved, too. Like they’ll take care of you. Not the other way around.

My brother *walking into the room*: One of them wrote a song with the lyrics, ‘I’m a master, baby, with your bra.’

Mom: WHAT? THAT’S HORRIBLE!

My brother: And if you think they’re brothers, it’s anything but that. Incest left and right.

Mom: What kind of nonsense-

My brother: Oh and one wants to be Sex Porn Star.

Me *shoving hand over my asshole of a brother’s mouth* It’s not like that. They’re really nice. They do their homework-

My brother: Their youngest failed his English exam.

Me: They’re modest-

My brother: Their computers get invested with viruses because they watch too much porn.

Me: They go to bed on time-

My brother: Two of them play videogames until five in the morning.

Me: They’re down to earth.

My brother: Their eldest thinks he’s worldwide handsome and once said his own mother cried when he was born because she could never be as beautiful as him.

Me: They’ll help you with the house chores-

My brother: One of them said he wants to be a rock in his next life so he could sleep and not do work.

Me: They’re very quiet and not noisy like-

My brother: They scream on the top of their lungs when they’re excited no matter what the setting.

Me: They’re super smart-

My brother: Once, during this interview, they were asked what their favourite American food was and one of them said Sprite. No joke.

Me: They dress well-

My brother: Did I mention this really short one stripped down at an award show to flash his abs?

Me: Mom, don’t listen to him! You’ll inherit a company-

My brother *snorting*: Yeah, a company that doesn’t equally distribute lines.

Mom: Get out of my room.

Mom: Get out of my room, right now.

I’m too often expected to keep quiet about things that are just too much, too loud. I can’t keep everything inside all of the time, and ink isn’t always as helpful as I trust it to be. Sometimes I need to scream.
—  🖤
  • Elena: I’m cold
  • Mack: Here, take my jacket
  • Jemma: Fitz, I’m cold too
  • Fitz: What? *taking off jacket* I told you to bring more layers but of course you didn’t listen and now *piling scarves on her* now look, I’ve got to make sure you don’t FREEZE to death and *taking somebody else’s hat* how long have you been cold you should’ve said something sooner
  • Bobbi: Hunter, I'm also cold-
  • Hunter: WELL DAMN BOBBI, I CAN'T CONTROL THE WEATHER.
  • Daisy: Robbie, I'm-
  • Robbie: *turns into the Ghost Rider*
  • Daisy: *steps closer to him* Oh that's nice.
  • Coulson (preparing to remove jacket): ...aren't you gonna say you're cold?
  • May: No. I actually brought a jacket.
  • Coulson: Aw, man.
9

Altertale!Reapertale (AlterReap)
AR!Toriel and AR!Sans

@renrink

for @thegeekindenial @statisticallymorelikely because reasons

thank you @mad-madam-m @paintedlandscape for quick read thru ^_^

Derek turns into a cat on a Tuesday.

There’s nothing unusual about this particular Tuesday. He wakes up in the abandoned warehouse he’d claimed in North Carolina, on top of an old flea-bitten mattress, and he’s wallowing in his usual morning routine of self-doubt and questioning his life choices. It isn’t until he realizes the sad, pitiful meowing is not coming from the feral cats he tries to feed with what meager income he can get doing odd jobs, but is in fact, coming from himself.

He is a cat. 

Derek takes stock of the situation. This must be that witch he met yesterday; he’d politely asked her to move on from this town because her anti-aging potions were giving the neighborhood ladies glow-in-the-dark hair and it wouldn’t be long until she attracted attention– of the local supernatural enforcement kind, meaning packs, meaning emissaries, meaning Derek would have to move on. Yet again. She’d shot some spells at him, ruined his favorite leather jacket, and chased him through the woods where there were a startling amount of hidden cameras. Derek then had to avoid several bungling FBI agents and led them on a merry chase through the woods until losing them, then he headed back to town.

The worst part was that whatever spell it was, Derek couldn’t shift into a wolf. He’d forgotten about it once he got to safety, and there didn’t seem to be any other effects of the spell, but…

Yeah. Four legs. Tail. He’s fluffy. And small.

He should have just stayed in South America. 

Keep reading

Guys My Age (3)

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Words: 4k

Warnings: Lap dance to rough Smut. NSFW gifs.

Anon asked “Can you please do a part 3 to ‘guys my age’ were Bucky asks reader for another lap dance”

A/N: The fic that started it all. I’m so glad people liked it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know if you want to be tagged. Also, dominant/jealous Bucky is just wow. Let me know if you want to be tagged HERE or HERE. Go away kids! And please use protection y’all.

Part 1 Part 2

Keep reading

4

wooooo more unfinished sketches and doodles from work!! 

a couple of them are actually rough sketches for finished ones (tangerine and the angers jasper on the top right page)!

Maybe, if I post every time this happens, abled people will stop thinking that this sort of thing is rare.

A while back I was sitting by the restaurant in Ikea and using my phone while I waited for Marvin to buy some things.

I was seated at one of four high-backed chairs arranged around a low coffee table. Across the table from me was a stranger, his young son sat in the chair to the right of me, and his daughter, who was about nine-years-old, sat on the floor at the coffee table. She was colouring and her brother was playing on a DS.

Their father stared at me while pretending he wasn’t. It’s pretty obvious when someone is watching you from eight feet away, though. I didn’t get angry vibes so I wasn’t concerned and just pointedly ignored him while catching Pidgey after Pidgey.

My phone had a semi-transparent, soft plastic case on it. I usually covered it with cute stickers. At that time, it had large words written in sharpie on the back that said, “It’s rude to stare”.

I was absorbed in my game when the stranger across from me laughed suddenly, loudly, and pointed me out to his daughter.

“Her phone says, ‘It’s rude to stare’,” he said.

He chuckled and looked at my face, expecting an explanation.

I stared at him.

He stared back.

I sighed.

“Oh, yeah. People stare at me a lot,” Just like you were, I thought. I waved my phone to show off the words. “So I wrote that on there. So, yeah.”

I went back to my game. Guy chuckled again.

“Really, people stare at you? Why?” He asked.

I looked up from my phone. I stared at him.

He stared back. I raised my eyebrows. He kept waiting for an answer.

I held up the butterfly-printed cane that had been leaning against my legs by way of explanation. “Sometimes I use a walker or wheelchair, too.”

“And people stare?” He pressed.

“Yep,” I said shortly.

“Wow. Well, you know, I think it’s probably because of their own personal fear.”

I seriously bristled at that. The tone was awful, really patronizing.

“Yeah. Seeing disabled people in public is a real shock. We remind people of their own mortality,” I said humourlessly, adding in some sarcastic laughter for good measure. I tried to signal my disinterest by lowering my head and leaning over my phone screen.

“Yeah-” he said, charging full speed ahead like he didn’t even need me for this conversation. He clearly had something to say all prepared.

"And you know, it’s funny. But I used to be scared of- people- people with disabilities,” he said, with a smile and lean-in, touching his fingertips together, making me want to punch his face.

I was in a bit of social shock. I just kept thinking, are you kidding me? This Ikea food court confession is happening right now, huh?

“Not physical disabilities, but mental disabilities.”

He was so smarmy, you guys. When he said that, I think my soul left my body. And I had no idea how to either respond or extricate myself reasonably. 

I hesitated, looked from this guy to his children, who were watching the exchange with awkward interest.

“Oh. Uh. Well, I’m autistic, so…” I let my words trail off. To this day I have no idea where that sentence would have gone.

“Oh. Oh! But I mean, you can’t tell,” he turned tomato red. “You’re so well-spoken and- I guess you could say that you have really overcome.”

As he was fumbling, I was giving him an exaggerated but sincerely felt grimace and an unimpressed "ehhh”.

At his pronouncement of my overcoming, I sat up straight and said, loudly and pissed enough that his children started looking worried, “Uh, yikes. No.”

Guy’s daughter looked like she would rather he did anything but continue talking, but that’s what he did. Like any allistic abled white dude worth his salt /s, he powered through, ignoring my obvious and projected displeasure.

“But, I mean. In school, it’s funny, because it ended up that most of my friends were handicapped. I guess I kind of protected them-” His voice took on an artificially soft, sticky quality. It was at this moment that I snapped.

“Okay. I’m going to cut you off there,” I said. I put my hand up. His tomato face spoiled.

“What? Why?” He seemed torn between expressing frustration and wanting to appear kind-hearted and open-minded in front of his children.

“Well. Uh. Ugh,“ I looked at his kids, wondering how harsh or how kind I should be. I hated that he put me in this spot. In that moment I hated him so much.

"Well, you’re saying a lot of stuff that non-disabled people think is nice to hear, but it’s not. It’s just- it’s just not.” I knew it was pointless to try to explain. My words were failing fast. He didn’t really care, anyway.

“I wouldn’t even be able to explain it to you,” I shrugged.

He gaped at me. Now he was angry. This wasn’t going how he had wanted it to.

“I know you’re coming from a good place. But it’s not nice. It’s just not… yeah.” I gripped the handle of my cane in one hand and my phone, Pokémon Go forgotten, in the other. I fought the urge to literally run away. I felt the surreal pressure of my behaviour being one of these kids’ formative disability-related experiences.

“Oh. Uh. Well. Okay. Sorry,” he said, embarrassed, not sorry. “And uh, thanks for saying that,” he said, trying to get me back. I looked away.

“I just-” he started. Even his children looked unhappily surprised that he was trying for that last word.

“I just want to say that you’re great.

I didn’t look at him. I smiled at his daughter, who smiled back out of habit, more confused than anything. His son looked down at his DS, secondhand embarrassment turning him red too.

“Hmm. Well, your kids seem nice,” I offered breezily.

After that, I moved away from the circle of green chairs and sat in an uncomfortably high stool in the corner. I hid there, head down, my hands shaking very slightly, feeling paranoid. Like I failed. And that my friends, is ableism. 

Just Say It (Bill Skarsgard x Reader)

requested: Hi! Could you please do a Bill Skarsgard X Reader imagine? So (Y/N) played Roman’s (Bill’s character) best friend / crush in Hemlock Grove and after the show ends, they see each other in IT premiere because (Y/N) is accompanying her brother Jackson (Who plays Georgie). Just fluff and Bill and (Y/N) are in love but they don’t know and Jackson spills that they like each other. Thanks! Your works are amazing!

Word Count: 1576

Warnings: some mature language ?

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting, this is such a good idea!

Originally posted by jonerysloveboat

There’s something scarily intoxicating about the acting industry. It’s like a siren beautifully singing to lure you closer and closer to the cliffs, waiting for a fatal collision. Yet (to her family’s dismay) it had affected Y/N - and now her little brother, Jackson. Their father had been a lawyer and their mother a teacher; both reliable jobs meant to procure a salary and stability. They had tried so hard to instill the idea of the American Dream and all that nonsense into their children.

Self-destruction must skip a generation, Y/N supposed.

Y/N had spent most of her acting career twiddling her thumbs as she waited for auditions and call backs that never came. She did her best to present everything good and unique about herself on resumes, but (nine times out of ten) not even that was good enough. It was disappointing to say the least and depressing to say the most. Initially, she didn’t want Jackson to pursue acting either. All the experiences he’d miss, like all the experiences she missed, could never be replaced. All the self deprecation and angst and the thoughts of ‘I’m not good enough’ - how in God’s name could she wish that upon her baby brother? But, as she sat in the backseat of a white limo, little Jackson sitting across from her, she acknowledged how wrong she had been. He was wearing such an expensive tuxedo, yet he was still pressing his nose to the window’s glass and making patterns with the fog. He wasn’t missing experiences - he was making them. Like a kid should.

It was her mother who first brought it all to light one evening over dinner, It wasn’t all bad, she had said after shoveling runny mashed potatoes onto her plate. And that was true; Y/N had played Odette Polinsky on Hemlock Grove. She was barely eighteen when she got the role and, though job single-handedly saved her career, yet it wasn’t even a completely positive memory.

Y/N was the youngest cast member on Hemlock Grove, and was completely (and pathetically) infatuated with a boy who saw her as nothing more as a friend. She had to witness the endless stream of girls come and go, as he conquered them and moved on.

“Did you talk to Ellie?” He whispered in Y/N’s ear during the show’s second season. He was leaning on his chair, with his elbow propping up his chin as he smiled boyishly. She tried to ignore the tingles as they ran down her spine, swallowing thickly. Ellie was his latest prize and she was constantly prancing around set in tube tops and denim short shorts. He followed her like a moth to a flame.

“Ya, I - I did. She really - likes you.” She managed to splutter out. Sometimes, when she was concentrating and focused, she could pretend conversations with him where just a scene. Their interactions all had a script, she would tell herself, therefore there’s no reason to panic. But this was not one of those days.

“Mmhmm,” he hummed as he scratched his chin with his thumb and index finger. He cocked his eyebrow at her and smiled, his lips slightly parted. He was so close to her, that she could smell his cologne - oranges and mint. Y/N had to stop herself from closing her eyes and leaning in.

“Well, catch you later Oddi!” He said quickly, as he briskly stood up from his chair and cracked his knuckles.

“See you Roman.” She replied quietly to herself.

Said boy just so happens to star alongside Jackson. She wondered if he still smelt the same like oranges and mint, maybe he even was -

Y/N shook her head, her curls bouncing around her shoulders. She couldn’t think about him today, today was Jackson’s day. Besides he had every other damn day to consume her thoughts. She would avoid him and that was that.

“Y/N! Y/N! Look! Look!” Jackson was pointing as he stared at all the flashing cameras and interviewers with microphones stood at the ready. His eyes lit up as he spoke and he smiled that dimpled smile of pure joy. Make those experiences, Jackson, thought Y/N as she smiled and stared with him. Soon enough they were parked and helped out of a limo by a wide shouldered man who fistbumped Jackson. Y/N smoothed out her silver dress (hoping to God, there were no wrinkles) and touched the earrings on her ears (those bad boys cost as much as a mortgage).

The boy bounded outside of the limo and was immediately bombarded by interviewers and questions (“How was working with older actors?” “We’re you scared?” “Are you going to see the movie?”).

Y/N stifled a laugh as she caught up to Jackson, making sure to look more confident than she really was in her black pumps. She subtly pointed in attempts to direct his attention to an interview who looked kind enough. Immediately the young boy caught on, at seven years old he was more aware of social cues then Y/N. Y/N went off to stand next to her parents, making sure to stay in direct earshot.

“Hello!” Jackson exclaimed happily, interlocking his fingers and letting his arms go slack. He looked so professional and gentlemanly, Y/N could’ve sang.

“Hello there Jackson! It’s so great to talk to you!” The interview knelt a bit, getting down to his level. She was tilting the microphone towards his mouth as she smiled genuinely.

“And you!”

“Thank you very much! Anyway, so both you and your sister have both worked with Bill Skarsgard right?”

Oh boy here it is.

“Yep!” Jackson said just as happily.

“How did you like it?!”

“Well, his costume is kinda scary but I saw him - em - get ready and stuff so - so it wasn’t too bad. I mean, eating me was kinda scary but not too too bad. He’s actually really nice and a really good actor and he told me a lot of stories about my sister and a lot of them were really funny but some of them weren’t really funny.” Jackson rambled, his tongue was officially detached from his brain. Now it wagged along in his jaw.

“What were the not so funny stories?” The interviewer asked puzzled, as she tried to reposition herself so the microphone was right underneath Jackson.

C’mon kid. I love ya. I care for ya. I support ya in all aspects of life. But if you say some of those not so funny stories, you better hope to God you - Y/N’s mind was in complete freefall, every secret fantasy, dream, and hope was currently abandoning ship.

Jackson, giddy as ever, had no problem wagging his tongue some more. He took a deep breath of air before saying, “Well, he told me about how sometimes on the show he would try to - um - get her attention and it never really worked and she never liked him. He told me that she thought he was, well, I dunno what it means so it could be a bad word … ”

“Go on, I’ll make sure it isn’t a bad word.” The interviewer egged on. Y/N was starting to like this woman less and less.

“He said that she thought he was a player.” The interviewer just laughed and assured him that ‘player’ was not in fact a bad word before asking him other questions about the movie.

Y/N looked around her as if to say, Did anyone else just hear that? Her jaw was now completely slack as she hung it open stupidly. Her shoulders unstraightened, her back slouched, and she had to check to make sure that the earrings were still hanging from her ears.

“Did you hear that?” A familiar voice asked in her ear as tingles shot down her spine. Y/N looked up at the tall god that was Bill Skarsgard and nodded fiercely, as she felt her forehead with the back of her hand. Was she ill? Because now she was feeling a bit feverish in this dress.

“Did you really?” He asked again, looking down at his shoes and smirking, his lips just parted. She just nodded again. “Well, I suppose the truth is out there.” His slight accent on the word ‘there’ caused Y/N to smile widely.

“I never thought you were a player. I thought you were …  popular.” Y/N finally said, breaking the tension. Bill tipped his head back, his hands in the pockets of his tailored trousers, and gave the heartiest laugh. The breeze caught his hair and Y/N could smell oranges and mint on the wind.

Once he had stopped laughing, all Y/N could think was just say it, just say it.

“I - uh - I well I was trying as much as - I - well wanted your attention too.” Y/N finally spoke out, raising her voice to make sure he heard it too. “Wow - I always thought you didn’t like me and I want you to kno-”

“HEY CAN WE GET A PHOTO OF YOU GUYS?!” A photographer interjected the sweet moment much to Y/N’s dismay. But Bill snaked his hand on her waist and softly pulled her into him, so she was pressed into his long torso. She smiled at the small gesture, looking down at his hand as she felt him smile down on her.

romanian slang (we swear a lot) cuz ive seen none
  • căcat - literal ‘shit’ . used in the same way. ‘’Frate nu mai e brânză.’’ ‘’Căcat.’
  • ce căcat- a bit different from căcat. kinda like ‘’wtf’’ .used in confusing situations (but not only) to show well confusion/surprise. ‘’Uită-te la asta.’’ ‘’Ce căcat.’’
  • ce dracu’- literal ‘’what the devil’’ kinda like ‘’what the hell’’. see: ce căcat
  • ce brânza mă-sii- ‘’what in its’mothers’ cheese’ see: ce dracu’
  • ce pizda mă-sii- ‘’what in its’ mothers’ pussy’’ dont do it. see above
  • să mor eu!- literal ‘’may i die’’ (???) more like ‘’im dead serious’’/’’damn’’. used to strenghten your point. ‘’Zici că-i prost, să mor eu.’’
  • să mori tu?- literal ‘’may you die’’ kinda like ‘’really?’’/’’deadass?’’ used to show distrust in someone’s sayings but also used in a sarcastic way.  ‘’Am dat foc la o casa.’’ ‘’Să mori tu?’’ vs. *smoke inside the house* ‘’Am ars mâncarea.’’ ‘’Să mori tu?’’
  • mor- ‘’im dying’’ used in the same way. ‘’*something funny happens* MOR’’
  • leșin- ‘’im fainting’’ used like ‘’i cant even’’ see: mor.
  • prea bine (ești)- literal ‘’oh well/alright’’ but today its used in a more methaporical way ‘‘too good’’ when something is going well or its cool, or according to our plans or,,,,,, the longer the ‘a’ the better the reaction
    ‘‘Avem băutură diseară’‘ ‘‘PREA BINE’‘
  • (ești) pe bines- uhhh ‘’you’re on the good’’ used when someone is talking about nice stuff happening to them or when they look good or they have fun *photo with friends at a picnic* ‘’pe bines’’ see: prea bine
  • să vă țină- used to wish well to a couple. meaning ‘’may itll last’’ 
    ‘‘M-am cuplat cu ____’‘ ‘‘Aw, să vă țină!’‘
  • pup (besc)- ‘’kiss (i love)’’ yeahhh ‘’besc’’ is a shorter version of ‘’(te) iubesc’’ - i love (you)’’ 
  • csf ncsf- shorter from ‘’ce să faci n-ai ce să faci’’ meaning ‘’what can you do theres nothing you can do’’ used when hearing unpleasant things. also used mockingly. ‘’M-a inșelat gagica-’’ ‘’csf ncsf’’
  • prost- common ‘’dumb’’ or ‘’working badly’’ someone may be ‘’prost’’ but also something can ‘’merge prost’’ i.e ‘’go wrong’’
  • parcă-i prost / parcă ești prost- ‘’as if he’s dumb’’ / ‘’as if you’re dumb’’ used to point out how stupid is someone without actually saying it. ‘’Am scăpat telefonu’ de gresie.’’ ‘’Da’ parcă ești prost’’.
  • ca la proști- ‘’like at the idiots’’ used to point out a situation in which you can tell that idiots took part or something went wrong/was embarrassing. *drops a card deck* ‘’Ca la proști.’’ see: parcă-i prost.
  • tâmpit/ule- ‘’you dumbass’’ yeah. 
  • fraier/e- same with ‘tâmpit/ule’ but like more affectionate. means ‘’airhead’’ 
  • gen- ‘’like’’. ‘’Știi gen..’’-’’Y’know like..’’
  • futu-ți morții mă-tii- aka everyone’s favourite ‘’fuck your moms’ dead relatives’’ used as a threat. *bumps toe on a drawer* futu-ți morții mă-tii.
  • futu-ți gâtu’ mă-tii- ‘’fuck your moms’ throat’’ uh. see: futu-ți morții mă-tii
  • futu-ți ceapa mă-tii- ‘‘fuck your moms’ onion’‘ see above. 
  • să-mi bag picioru’/pula- ‘’may ill put my foot / my dick in it’’ second one’s more vulgar. used to show denial and anger. kinda like ‘’fuck it’’
  • am pățit- literal ‘’happened to me’’ more like ‘’been there done that’’ used to show concern by being a good listener and also to be relatableTM ‘’Vreau să mă sinucid’’ ‘’Am pătit.’’

Why does no one ever talk about book!Eponine and how she’s a hyperactive, excitable, perfect mess? I mean, her first conversation with Marius is just, “Hey hi it’s nice to meet you your room is really cool and you’re kinda hot oh you have a crush on someone that sucks anyway that’s a really cool painting I see you found the letter my sister dropped wow my sister is so dumb seriously but I love her anyway yeah we send fake letters to people to get money cuz we’re poor did you know I can read I’m really good at it and I can write too do you want me to show you how pretty my writing is no well see you later then!” I’m all for cool, confident, punk Éponine, but I really wish I saw more of this side of her too.

anonymous asked:

omg i just watched this show called bakers or fakers. basically two professional bakers compete against hobbyist. though who's who is kept a secret till the end. they have challenges with certain ingredients or desserts. i can totally imagine bitty going on the show.

YUP!

Also AU where Jack is a guest judge on the show and he knows he’s supposed to be there as the “Eye Candy Sports Star” and isn’t expected to actually know much about baking or about knowing who is the professional or the faker BUT the Falconers (for the first time since Jack was named captain) failed to make the playoffs (so. many. injuries. Jack himself was out for a huge chunk of the season and Tater pulled his hammy and it was– Not his fault. Jack knows that but STILL). The point is Jack had some extra time on his hands and so not only did he watch every episode of Bakers and Fakers to get used to the format, he also read tons of How To Bake books and he was going to start on the youtube channels but he’d run out of time. (Plus Jack prefers books, youtube videos can be a bit too loud for him. Especially with the weird background music some of them put on while things are baking.)

The point is: Jack goes to this taping Way Too Hyped and, honestly, putting a lot of the competitive spirit he reserves for hockey into Judging. Jack is going to get this: he is going to figure out who are the bakers and who are the fakers and… well actually there’s no scoring system per se but he is going to give specific feedback and win this thing anyhow.

Enter Eric Bittle.

Tiny. Blond. Friendly. Stunningly attractive. Freakishly fast at baking. Super nice to one of his fellow contestants who looks like a sweet old grandma. Super condescending and says things like “Oh, honey, that’s precious” to other fellow contestant who Jack thinks is a bit of a prick. 

Jack decides right away that he must be a Faker. He is too young not to be. And he keeps cutting corners, not doing the things that Jack had read about and if there is one thing that Jack “knows” is that’s you Don’t Cut Corners in baking. So he is the faker. 

He is also the best, but Jack is not to be deterred. Bittle gets through the first round no problem (Douchebag’s cupcakes were basic and dry so he goes and the other contestants seem happy about it.) and it’s onto the second round. For this round, all the contestants have to use maple syrup (in honor of Jack). Jack and the other judges bicker easily among themselves about who left is the Faker and who is the Baker and Jack tries over and over to get them to see that clearly Bittle is a faker. He has to be. There is no way he can use that much maple syrup without it coming out too sweet. He is making rookie mistakes. At one point, he added sirracha to his pie?? It didn’t make sense. He doesn’t make sense. Jack is positive.

Then they get to the tasting and the other two contestants are good and Jack is pretty confident that Marsha is a professional because damn her maple crisp thing is delicious but–

But then he takes a bite of Bittle’s maple crusted pie and he… he sees stars honestly.

“I was wrong,” Jack Zimmerman admits out loud to a studio audience. (Okay, that’s an exaggeration, the day is too long so there is no live audience). “He’s the real deal. He’s a baker for sure.”

The other judges agree. And because they have to give less money to real Bakers and thus always chose who they thing is a real Baker (and because Bittle was handsdown the best), Bittle wins the show.

And then comes the question: “Are you a baker or are you a faker?”

Marsha (as Jack suspected) is a Baker. That’s okay. Janelle is the faker and then Jack was right. They have Bittly announce what he is next. There’s the tense silence. Jack is glaring at him without really meaning to. 

“I.” Bittle starts. Jack hasn’t felt so pumped since he was playing against the Flyers and they were tied up with 34 seconds left. “Am. A.”

Jack is holding his breath. He needs a win. He was right about this.

“Faker!”

Bittle laughs. The other judges all exclaim at how amazed they are by this. The host gets Bittle to explain that he is still a college student and he does most of his baking in a frat house (hence the sirracha move). Everyone is amazed.

Jack is livid. He knew it and then stupid Bittle made him change his answer. He should have stuck with his gut, he should have–

“Sorry for fooling you right at the end, darling,” Bittle says as they wrap up, shooting him a smile. “Had to get that 15 grand though.”

“I knew it, though,” Jack mumbles, feeling his face go a bit red. “I did know it.”

“Oh, you had no idea,” Bittle says and though he’s laughing, Jack doesn’t feel mocked. “You can’t know everything about me that quick!”

Bittle is cute and small and compact and Jack feels that rush he feels when he’s been bested but by a team that deserves it.

“How much time?” he blurts. Bittle blinks at him. He flushes harder but continues anyway. “Would it take to know everything?”

“Well, I- I-” Bittle is a bit flustered now too. Jack can see his face getting red. It’s adorable. But, unlike Jack, he manages to collect himself rather quickly. “I think dinner would be as good a place to start as any.”

And so that’s where they start. 

Cressida by @gravityfying happy birthday!

I tried to message you earlier because I was in doubt about a few things, but you weren’t online… So I hope you don’t mind a few liberties I took… I hope you like this! @artgirllullaby did the shadows (and the gloves, was a cute touch - PS: Sorry for handing you a 6B instead of a 2B Lully, I know you tried your best ^^’)

I also forgot to sign, so.. sorry guys ^^’

Happy birthday, Grav! I hope you have a great year full of happiness and shining! And maybe join the shipping squad? *hint hint * lol I know these guys would love you there (and even if you don’t join, drop at @shippingsquad anytime you want to talk with any of us and also laugh on how we ship everyone lol)

<3

~-AC

I love you.

Originally posted by harrysimpact

Her.

All wrong.


This is the third and final part to my soulmate story. The other parts can be found above. Let me know what you think.xxx


“No!” her scream echoed around Harry’s apartment, the pain in her voice cutting through him and making his heart clench.
“Harry, no.” it was a whimper now and Harry pressed his eyes shut, hoping that when he opened them again everything would be okay.
But that didn’t happen. Y/N fell to her knees, the loud thump making Harry turn around and stare at her in shock. The sight in front of him reminded him of last night, when he was the one to drop down on his knees and sob until his lungs were begging him to stop.
Y/N curled in on herself, making herself as small as possible. Her loud cries were heartbreaking and Harry wasn’t sure if she was able to breath anymore because her loud gasps didn’t sound like she was able to take in any air.
He kneeled down in front of her, one hand on her knee, his thumb stroking over the fabric of her skinny jeans.
“You have to calm down or you’ll make yourself sick.” he told her.
But her sobs didn’t die down, if anything they only got worse.
“Alright.” he sighed and lifted her up with one hand underneath her knees and one underneath her arms.
She wrapped her arms around his neck then, crying into his shoulder. Harry walked her to his living room, sitting down with her on his lap. He slung a blanket over her body because he knew that always comforted her.
He stroked her head, his fingers playing with her hair. It took time but after a while she stopped sobbing and gasping for air, her breathing still ragged but almost normal.
“I m-made a mistake.” she said after a while.
Harry didn’t say anything, he decided to let her talk and not interrupt her.
“I know I should have told him. But I was so goddamn nervous. I’ve been with him for two years now, it just seems unfair to me to break up with him so sudden. He stood in front of me yesterday and he was so happy to see me and… I just couldn’t do it.”
Harry thought for a moment. Of course he knew it wouldn’t be easy for her but didn’t she know that it wasn’t easy for him either?

“You didn’t have to have sex with him.”
“I know. I know I shouldn’t have done it but… I needed comfort. I felt like no matter what I do, it’s wrong. I just needed to forget everything for a bit.”
“But you knew that I would feel it. I told you.” Harry scoffed.
“I-I hoped you wouldn’t.”
Harry shook his head and let her glide from his lap, bending forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands.
“Do you even know what that did to me? You ripped my fucking heart out. I spent forever in the shower to somehow get rid of that feeling of you with another man but it didn’t help. I’ve never cried so hard. I felt you having sex with him before but now that I met you, now that I kissed you… You cheated on me. You did the one thing you never were supposed to do.”
Y/N eyes were cast down to the floor, starring at god knows what.
“I…” Harry stopped, he didn’t know if he wanted to tell her.
But he had to.
“I don’t feel you anymore.”
Y/N screwed her eyes shut, her head shaking from side to side.
“I… don’t have that feeling in my chest anymore.”
Y/N got up from the couch and stood in front of the big window, starring outside.
Harry cleared his throat and got up as well.
“Maybe it’d be be best you’d lea-”
“What do I have to do to make this right?” she whirled around.
“I don’t know.” Harry sighed.
“There has to be something, Harry.”
“You destroyed us.” he smiled sadly.
“I don’t think you can do anything.”
“You can’t stop loving your soulmate, that’s not possible.” she shook her head.
Harry stared at her. She started to walk over to him, cupping his face in her hands.
“I still feel you. I still have that feeling in my chest.”
Harry had to admit that her touch did something to him.
“Just tell me what to do.” she begged.
He hesitated for a moment. The thoughts in his mind swirling around.
“We’ll go to your place. And I’ll wait with you until he comes home. You tell him.”
She nodded her head furiously.
“Anything.”
“But I can’t promise you that that’ll make everything okay again.”
She smiled sadly but nodded.
She gazed into his eyes for a few more moments, before she leaned in to kiss him. But Harry whipped his head to the side so she could only reach his cheek. She closed her eyes with frustration, but pressed her lips against his skin harder.
“I brought breakfast. Maybe we could eat that before we go?” she asked him, somewhat nervous because she was sure that she couldn’t take another rejection.
“‘Course.” he agreed.

To say that breakfast was awkward would be an understatement. It was literally horrible. They sat across from each other, none of them knowing what to say or what to do.
When her phone dinged with a message she felt Harry tense up. Of course he knew who it was from.
“What does he say?” he asked with fake nonchalance, it may sound cruel but Y/N was glad that he reacted like that.
“He’s leaving work early. He’s home in an hour.” she told him, leaving out the 'I love you.’ he ended the message with.
“Then we’ll have to go.” Harry said and got up from his seat.
“Yeah.”

Once they arrived Y/N was shaking with nerves. Nothing was safe now. What would Matthew do when she told him? Hit Harry? Yell at her? Insult her?
And what would Harry do afterwards? Leave and never come back? Realize that he still didn’t feel anything?
She was scared. So incredibly scared.
When Matthew arrived it was like time stood still. He closed the door behind him and stared at Harry and Y/N, how he sat at the kitchen table with a frown and how she whirled around from where she was leaning against the kitchen counter.
“Um… hi?” Matthew said, confusion clear in his voice.
“Hi.” Y/N breathed.
“Who’s that?” he asked, referring to Harry.
“That’s Harry.”
They nodded at each other briefly as a way of greeting.
“My soulmate.”
Matthews eyes snapped to Y/N’s and lips parted with shock.
“Oh?”
“Yeah.” she nodded.
“Well… it was about time, eh?” Matthew started to smile, a genuine one.
Y/N stared at him dumbfounded, like she couldn’t believe her ears.
“It’s nice to meet you.” Matthew said and walked over to Harry, outstretching his hand for him to shake.
“Nice to meet you too, mate.” Harry grinned softly and grabbed his hand.
“Probably not that nice, hm?” Matthew looked at him sympathetically.
“What do you mean?” Harry asked.
“I mean… My significant other has a boyfriend too and it rips my heart out. Probably the same for you.”
Harry nodded softly, his eyes catching Y/N’s who looked at both of them with wonder.
“So you two met today?”
“Um, no.” Harry replied.
“No?” Matthew asked and looked to Y/N.
“We… we met yesterday.” she answered.
“Oh.”
It was quiet for a moment, everyone seemingly lost in their own thoughts until Matthew realized that if they met yesterday…
“Wait. Yesterday?”
Y/N and Harry both nodded.
“But… but we had…”
“Yep.” Harry nodded, popping the 'p’.
“Oh goodness.” Matthews’s eyes widened.
“I’m so sorry, mate. I didn’t know.”
“It’s not your fault.” Harry stared directly at Y/N.
She closed her eyes and looked away.
“Um… I guess I’ll better leave now, yeah? I think you two have a lot to talk about. I’m going to get my stuff the next few days.”
“Okay.” Y/N whispered.
“I really am sorry, mate.” Matthew told Harry, patting his shoulder once.
“Take care of her, yeah?”
Harry nodded with a tight lipped smile.
And seconds later the door closed behind Matthew.
Harry got up from his seat, the chair creating an uncomfortable sound against the floor.
He stood in front of Y/N with his arms crossed, starring her down.
“I-I didn’t know he would react like that.” she stuttered.
“What did you think would happen, hm? That he would yell at you? For meeting your soulmate?”
Y/N stayed silent because she knew whatever she would say it wouldn’t help her.
“You’re really not making this easy on me, you know? I don’t know what I’m supposed to so with all this.” he spoke, his voice gentle now.

He sighed when he saw her starring at the ground, her bottom lip wobbling. He took a step forward, his hands touching her upper arm softly.
“I want to love you. I want to love you with every fiber of my being and start a happy life with you. But I don’t know if I can do that.”
“Can we at least try?” she whimpered.
“Love…”
“Please. We can take it slow, as slow as you want. I’d do everything to make you forgive me. Please.” she begged.
“I need time, okay? Time to think.”
She closed her eyes briefly, the thought of not seeing him for some time too much.
“Anything you want.” she agreed nonetheless.
Harry nodded and smiled softly at her before he leaned down. Y/N gasped, thinking he’d kiss her but his kiss only landed on her cheek.
And seconds later her front door fell shut.



The first day she didn’t see him wasn’t easy for her but she handled it.
It wasn’t any easier for him either but he pushed through it.
The second day was much worse, her chest felt like it was tightening in on her and her body was shaking the whole day.
Harry felt like he couldn’t breath, his lungs struggling and his headache getting worse with every minute.
The third day was the worst, Y/N was feeling dizzy and weak. Her body not being able to move a lot before her limps gave out.
Harry felt hot all over but cold at the same time. He wasn’t able to eat or do anything really because he was sure he would faint.
But he had to do something.
One thing.
He drove over to her place even though he was shaking so much he couldn’t even hold the stirring wheel still.
He knocked against the door and gasped when she opened immediately. She looked even worse than he imagined. She was still breathtakingly beautiful but she looked in pain. So much pain.
“Oh, my love.” he whimpered and closed the little gap between them, wrapping her in a bone crashing hug.
She slung her arms around his neck and breathed him in, finally feeling like she was able to survive again.
He pulled away from her a bit, only so much to close the door behind him and look at her.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for what I did to you. Of course, I love you. God, I don’t even know how I could think that I don’t. I think I just pushed that feeling away because I was so heartbroken and hurt and mad and… I’m so sorry.” Harry spoke, taking forever to get the words out.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, you hear me?” she cupped his cheeks.
“But-”
“No. You did absolutely nothing wrong. The only person who needs to apologize is me. What I did was the worst thing I could have ever done to you. I hurt you so much and I don’t think I can ever make that up to you. But I want you to know that I love you. I love you with everything I have and that won’t ever change.”
“I love you too.” Harry whispered.
Y/N smiled at him and stroked over his cheek with the back of her hand.
Harry gazed deeply into her eyes for a few more moments before he leaned in and connected their lips in a soft and loving kiss. Fireworks erupted behind their eyelids, butterflies in their tummies coming to life and their heartbeats speeding up.
“Show me. Show me how much you love me.” Harry whimpered when they parted again.
“Harry.” Y/N gasped.
“Please.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Just… not here.” he mumbled, his cheeks turning pink.
Y/N understood and nodded, threading her fingers through his.
“Then let’s go to your place.”


They bursted through the door once they arrived, kissing passionately and not parting for a single second. Harry led her through his apartment, claiming her mouth with his and stopping every few moments to pull her tight against his body and feel her closer.
Once they reached Harry’s bedroom he didn’t know what to do anymore. He never did this before and he was nervous, he didn’t want to mess up.
But Y/N made him feel safe with her. She was gentle with him and loving. She kissed over his chest once she removed his shirt, making him feel warm inside. She guided him to do the same and once he threw her shirt to the floor he did, kissing over every inch of her soft skin.

She helped him open her bra, letting the straps fall from her shoulders and throwing the thing across the room, as far away as possible. Harry pressed her chest against his with his hands on her back, moaning softly when her skin came in contact with his.
Y/N’s hand wandered lower after a bit of time, palming him over the fabric of his tight jeans before squeezing briefly and causing another moan to fall from his swollen lips.
She opened the button of his jeans when he seemed okay with it, pulling the zipper down right after. Harry wiggled the tight fabric from his legs, throwing it behind himself before he began kissing her body again, over her bare breasts to her tummy and to the waistline of her jeans. He opened them slowly and pulled them down, gasping softly when his fingers brushed against her soft legs.
Y/N guided his face to hers, covering his mouth with hers and making him press against her, the bulge in his boxers rubbing against her panty covered crotch.
She let her hand wander into his boxers, moaning when she felt how hard and warm he was. And how thick.
She couldn’t take it anymore then, needing to see him. She pulled his boxers down, freeing him and watching how his cock slapped against his stomach with how hard he was. He was so incredibly big, the bulbous head of him leaking precum and smearing it on his skin.
She touched him, letting her index finger run over the very prominent vein on the underside of him and watching how he twitched at the contact.
Harry stared at her, how she seemed so fascinated by him. He groaned when she took him in her hand, not able to wrap her whole hand around him because he was just so goddamn big. She moved her hand up, twisting it once she reached his tip and stroking down again. Harry’s mouth was opened in a silent moan, his eyes rolling back when her thumb stroked over his slit and gathered his precum.
She stopped then, knowing that if she kept going this would be over before it even started. Harry looked down at her with glassy eyes, already looking absolutely fucked out. He hooked his thumbs into her panties and pulled them down her legs, gasping once he saw her completely naked.
She spread her legs for him, letting him crawl in between them. He stared at her. Her pussy was pink and glistening with her arousal, some of it dripping from her. Her stroked his middle finger in between her lips, gathering some of her wetness and licking it off with his tongue. She tasted amazing. He spread her lips apart with two fingers and pressed a kiss against her, grinning when she moaned for him.
Even though he never did this before he let his feeling guide him and it seemed he did good by the way she got even wetter and moaned underneath his mouth. But she pulled him away once she was close to reaching her peak, pulling him up by his hair and looking at him with wide eyes.
He crawled up her body, hovering over her before leaning down and pressing a kiss to her lips, making her taste herself on him.
“You’re so good, Harry.” she whimpered once they parted, wonder evident in her voice.
He grinned at her, before kissing her again and reveling in the way she reacted to it, her back arching and a quiet moan vibrating against his lips.
“I-I don’t have a condom.” he suddenly realized, his eyes widening.
“I don’t either.” she sighed and Harry already closed his eyes in frustration, his head dropping to her chest in defeat.
“But I’m on the pill and clean, I promise.” she told him, making him lift his face to look at her.
“I’m clean too but… is that really safe? I mean-”
“It is. Just pull out.” she told him and Harry nodded.
“Are you sure?” he asked her one more time.

“100 percent.” she answered in an instant.
Harry took ahold of him and lined him up with her entrance, rubbing his tip over her slit a few times to gather her wetness before he slipped it inside, watching with wonder how her eyes rolled back in pleasure. He pushed in then, slowly but forcefully until he was completely inside of her, his balls pressed against her ass.
She pulled him even deeper with her heels digging into the small of his back, making him hover over her.
“You’re so big.” she whimpered, moaning when he thrusted the tiniest bit.
“And you’re so goddamn tight.” he told her and began to pull out slowly until only the tip of him was inside her before thrusting back in to the hilt and making her scream in pure pleasure.
Harry took it slow and made sure she was able to feel every inch of him inside of her, filling her up. He loved the feel of her warm and slick walls around him, how they clamped down on him once she got close and got even tighter.
He rubbed her clit then, making sure to make her cum as hard as possible. With his hips snapping against hers, his relentless circles against her bundle of nerves and his encouragements to let go she came. And she came hard. She trashed around, moaning into the air, her eyes rolling back and her pussy squeezing Harry’s cock. He followed soon after, pulling out in the last second, pumping his cock in his fist and groaning loudly when cum spurted from his tip and landen on Y/N’s body, painting her tummy with thick and hot streaks.
Once he milked himself for everything he got Y/N dipped her fingers into his cum and licked it off, cleaning her whole tummy like that while Harry watched with wide eyes.
“Goddamn.” he whispered what made her giggle.

He pressed a kiss to her lips before he dropped to the mattress beside her, his mind not seeming to comprehend what just happened.
“Where the hell did you learn to fuck like that?” she asked him after a moment, making him choke on air.
“I haven’t- I mean I told you I never did this before.”
“Then you’re a natural.” she stated.
He didn’t say anything, the blush creeping up his neck towards his cheeks.
“Seriously.” she said and turned onto her stomach to look at him.
“That was the best sex I ever had.” she told him and stroked his flushed cheek.
“Wasn’t exactly making love, eh?” he giggled after a moment.
“No. Not really.” she grinned back and leaned down to press her lips against his.
“We’ll do that during round two.”
And just like that everything was how it was supposed to be.