even though i lost some followers

On LP & Chester

I’ve listened to Linkin Park since I was 17 years old. I’m 34. That’s half my life.

Truth be told, I wasn’t always the most dedicated of fans. I only saw you in concert once in 2006/7. I owned one shirt from the band in 17 years that I outgrew and lost. Never bought any other merch. New albums would come out and I’d wait a month or two to buy it. Once I waited a year. Some of the albums took several listens before I got into them. But I always got into them because at the end of the day what got me was the lyrics not just the music itself. I followed the band on social media at a minimum level. Only band I ever followed. But even though I wasn’t an ultra fan I was still a fan.

At first, I didn’t understand why your sound changed. But I was always willing to hear your new music because I understood that we all had to grow up eventually even musically.

I grew up along with LP. And I looked forward to your newest sound. Your next concert and tour in October. I had plans to go see you because I found myself looking forward to listening to old songs from Hybrid Theory mixed in with new songs from One More Light. I could almost put together a story with all of your songs from seven studio albums in my head. A story of pain, overcoming that pain, and glory. I really was looking forward to seeing you a decade after that first concert. All of you. Chester, Mike, Rob, Brad, Phoenix, and Joe.

I’m not going to analyze every single way a song of yours spoke to me. Bottom line: Your pain was my pain. We fought similar battles. Your music gave me hope.

But. Chester.

It didn’t mean your pain left you. It just mellowed. It tired you. It changed along with your age. I actually understand this only too well. I wish you could see how much love you left behind.

I never met you in person. You’re a literal stranger. I have no reason to grieve and mourn. Yet. I am so heartbroken. You gave us your words and pain and shared it with us. And we just took it greedily and felt accepted. Your words were a healing balm to our broken souls.

And now you’re gone. Your voice and talent is gone forever. Your story is over. I have no words about the way you chose to go. You’re not a coward. You’re not brave. You’re not selfish. I just wish you hadn’t. But I also understand why. I really understand why. Depression is a bitch. I still wish it wasn’t true.

I am going to be sad for a really long time. I won’t be able to listen to LP songs the same way again.

Either way, regardless of how I feel now or in the future, thank you.

Thank you, Chester. For being brave enough to share your story openly. To share your grief musically on a stage. To be real about substance/sexual abuse and depression in interviews. I hope you found the peace you needed.

And to your bandmates: Guys. You not only lost a coworker but a dear friend. Take all the time you need to grieve and mourn. You don’t owe us anything.

Hey I wasn’t really planning to post this but some stuff came up so here we go:

• If you are a young teen and a full
grown adult is romantically interested in you, they probably aren’t interested in you for the right reasons.

• If you are in a relationship where someone is pressuring you to perform acts you aren’t ready for; you should leave that relationship

• You can be “mature for your age” but that doesn’t mean a 30 year old should be interested in a 15 year old as a partner.

• If someone is attracted to your naivety, that’s usually a red flag

• I’m 21 and even though I respect young teens, they still look like kids to me. I could never see one as a relationship partner. I don’t think that feeling is lost on other adults/young adults

• Overall just please stay safe and cautious. Some of my younger followers have come to me over things like this, and I just want you to be safe.

i feel like there are a lot of half-truths and straight up lies we have to stop telling kids about biomedical transition, some of which are mythology derived more from the medical and mental health institutions than trans people themselves but all of which are circulated within gay and trans communities, among them:

- that they’ll be the person they were before

- that physicians, psychiatrists, and therapists know better than they do, and that trauma and desire to transition have to be completely separate for transition to be a valid option

- that transition has any kind of endpoint

- that it’s guaranteed to change their mental health for the better in an uncomplicated way

- that it will cure dysphoria, that their dysphoria is guaranteed to improve in every way or even stay the same, and that persistence or even worsening dysphoria always means biomedical transition was the wrong choice

- that hormone replacement and gender-confirming surgeries are supposed to be uncomplicated emotional experiences

- that they aren’t allowed to have second thoughts and that second thoughts always mean biomedical transition was the wrong choice (i’m over two years in, i’ve had some surgery, and i still have moments where i think ‘what the hell am i doing’ even though i know it’s saved my life)

- that any kind of transition, public or internal, biomedical or otherwise, is a linear process with a specific blueprint they have to follow, and

- that biomedical transition has to be the highlight of their lives or otherwise a life-or-death decision, and that their decisions about what to do with their bodies have moral consequences.

there are definitely a lot of others, but i feel like hearing some of this much earlier in my life would have spared me a lot of internal conflict, agony, and lost time

BTS Reaction-Strip Poker (18+)

Sure thing anon.   Here you go!!!  I’m sorry i’m behind on my reactions, ill be posting more as soon as I can.

I don’t own any of these gifs!  

Jin:  As you loose your last hand, you would be cautious and you started to slip your shirt over your head while he looked at you telling you how pretty you are.

Suga:  You would tell him you were nervous about being naked, so he would start to take off his shirt with you to make sure that you were feeling better and not as afraid.

J-Hope:  He would walk over to you once you lost your hand and help you take off your jeans, pushing you against the wall stealing little kisses as you take them off.

Rap Mon:  You slowly started to pull the strap down to your dress teasing him as you talked to him.  He tells you to stop talking as he walks closer to you and moves his hand on your back.

Jimin:  After you lost your hand, you would be scared to take off our shorts. however once Jimin got up and did a dance for you to encourage you, you had enough confidence to show him your whole body.

Tae:  “You lost noona, time to strip.”  He would say with a cute smile on his face.  You were nervous but the moment you felt his hand sliding up on your thigh you started to act on your emotions, taking your shirt off.

Kookie:  Once you said that you were nervous he would bring you close and kiss you first telling you he can help you calm your nerves.  “Even though you lost noona, I will join you and we can have some fun.”

***I don’t own any of these gifs, all credit to their owners***
**Request box is open.**
*Don’t forget to click “Follow” for more reactions and scenarios*

anonymous asked:

Greetings. (God, I feel like we should all be greeting each other in a way that shows mourning or something.) Anyway. So we've seen the gifs going around comparing Dean being pulled away from Cas vs Sam being pulled away from Jess. And I felt that, for sure. But when I saw Dean getting pulled away my first thought for his thinking was "Oh no, this is like purgatory all over again, please no, I can't loose him." Because the grey filters, the closing portal - Dean couldn't let it happen again. Ow.

Urgh yeah you are so right. Just like how Jensen said that it was ‘purgatory-ish’ it really was at the end there and that whole moment with Dean calling out to Cas whilst Sam pulled him back to the portal just was a perfect call back to that time in purgatory. 

I have NO DOUBT that that is what Dean thought of. 

Instead what he got was WORSE though! That is the kicker! Because Dean THOUGHT he had lost Cas through a portal… which potentially means he could find a way to save him… there was still some hope even in that moment of terror and “I can’t lose him again!”.

2 minutes later and he sees Cas stabbed through the chest with an angel blade followed by charred wings on the ground. Dean’s worst nightmare right in front of him. 

I also think that the purgatory call back was totally intentionally done by the writers/director because they wanted to make those last few moment as emotional as possible whilst also playing the destiel card. A sure fire way to get the destiel shippers worked up is to remind us of purgatory. As you said, the way it was shot, edited, framed and lit, it was all very purgatory and there is a reason for that. 

Remember as well that after purgatory Cas went through an entire arc of brainwashing that culminated in one of the most destielicious scenes the show has ever given us. Is this foreshadowing season 13? 

Making Love

Rating: M

Summary: They say that there is a thin line between true love and stupidity… I don’t know where we fall Sakura, but who cares, right?


a/n: I wrote this right after my exams. I wrote this on a whim. I wrote this, not knowing I would be writing a fluff-smut fic.

This is a sort of sequel to Daddy-like Kid, starring Boruto and Sarada, but this fic can stand on its own. I don’t own Naruto. This is also posted in my Fan Fiction Account: AliceInRealWorld. I hope you guys will enjoy it! :3


I woke up with a sharp jolt. I didn’t have the time to remember the context of the nightmare. The dark room didn’t help. It only lured the images that had faded. The silence didn’t help. It only encouraged the voices of my distress that disrupted my sleep. It was the nightmare so disturbing that it left my heart to beat plangently, causing my ears to ring, making my head ache, tightening my chest.

Cold sweat started to secrete from my bare skin, mixing with the sticky precipitation that was produced from last night’s copulating.

I trembled. I waited for the pounding of my heart to slow down. I thought back the passionate hours to keep my mind from retracting in the darkness. I combated the blood-curling screams with the timbre of my Sakura’s pleased moans and small whimpers. I replaced the scenes of death with the picture of my wife’s pink hair, curtaining her bright green eyes as she erratically move her hips to achieve euphoria.

That’s right. It’s alright if I got roused again and had to relieve it by myself (it’s rude to wake someone up just for such insolent reason.)

I allowed myself to think of anything, everything, just to dispel affective residue of the nightmare.

Think of anything but that.

“Sasuke-kun.” I flinched.

A small, delicate hand patted my back. When I didn’t respond, the hand trailed on to my shoulder, squeezing it affectionately. She scooted closer so she can place her chin on the spot where the curse mark used to reside. “Do you want to talk about it?”

After hearing those words, the dangerous beating of my heart appeased. I bowed down and shook a no.

She made a sound behind her throat, a sign that she’s thinking of ways to distract me from my thoughts. The hand on my shoulder tickled its way down my sole arm. Her nimble fingers traced the visible veins and then it landed on my palm where she drew infinite spirals. She repeated this antic until my breathing went back to normal.

“I’m not supposed to say this.” She began as her hand clasped mine. She pressed her body closer, my bare back feeling her healthy breasts. “But I think Sarada has already forgotten about it, so I guess it is okay to share it.”

I squeezed her hand, silently encouraging her to continue.

She let out a giggle, “When Sarada was six she started a list that she called, ‘Things That I’m Gonna Tell Papa When He Comes Home.’

A small smile graced on my lips. I released Sakura’s hand then gently shrug her off. Understanding my actions, she moved away and began piling the pillows against the headboard. When that’s done, I rested my back on the make-shift lean. I opened my arm, gesturing her to come closer. She happily obliged. She took a small pillow, placed it on my nether region before sitting on my lap. I wrap my arm around her waist. She looped an arm round my neck. I pulled our comforter over our naked body.

“What does it contain?” I mumbled.

“Hmm…” She wondered as her fingers play with my hair. “On the… Let’s say, preface of her list, she said, ‘Papa comes home only once or twice a month. You have to persuade him to teach you something new.’ Then at the bottom, there’s a footnote that says, ‘You have to perfect everything that Papa teaches you Sarada! Shannaro!’

We chuckled quietly in unison. Nuzzling her cheek on the crook of my neck she continued, “If memory serves right, one of her anecdotes is when she finally perfected her shuriken throws. You should’ve seen her solo trainings Sasuke-kun. Every day, I had to tend her hands full of cuts and grazes.”

My eyebrows knotted as Sakura tells the story because of two reasons. One, old friends, regret and longing visited my chest. I wish I was there to see, watch her struggle for greatness.

“Oh! Speaking of training, next to shuriken throwing is, ‘The Day I Finally Created a Katon Goukakyuu!’” She made a circle in the air, her viridian eyes gleaming with pride. “She never faltered even if her cheeks are blistered!”

She laughed softly at the memory. She glanced up and reached for my forehead. “You know what Sasuke-kun?” She tenderly brushed away the bangs that’s covering my other eye then cupped my face, “She reminds me of you.”

And two-Sakura’s right, verbalizing my thoughts perfectly. Sarada reminds me of me, Sasuke, two decades younger. Sasuke with eyes that can shine even if they’re dark as coal. Sasuke who had his head lifted as he chase down his idol, his inspiration, his reason. Sasuke who died in my personal nightmare.

“She embodies you in so many ways. Not that I’m complaining though.” She sighed dramatically then pointedly followed, “But I wish a child would inherit some of my features.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Is that bad? That… she’s like me?”

‘lub-DUB…’

Do you think that she’ll also commit the same mistakes and sins that I did?

‘lub-DUB.’ Inferiority. ‘lub-DUB.’ Fear. ‘lub-DUB.’ Anxiety. ‘lub-DUB -!’

Do you think she’ll get lost on the darkness too?

‘LUB-DUB, LUB-DUB-!’ Trauma. ‘LUB-DUB, LUB-DUB-!’ Hatred. ‘LUB-DUB, LUB-DUB-!’ Loneliness-

‘LUB-DUB!’

The awful metamorphosis of my heart in the last moment of my childhood, hand in hand, the countless tomoe spiraled in to a constant repetition.

When can you say that you have atoned for the sins you have done?

“Sasuke, love.” I flinched.

Sakura ran her fingers through my hair as her other hand remained on my temple, keeping my bangs from covering my powerful eyes. She held their glare, showing no fear. “That’s not what I’m trying to say.”

I know. But…

“Is that bad?” I asked again, this time, it came out raspy and strained. “Do you think-”

She kissed the tip of my nose then pinched my cheeks, “Of course not! You got it all wrong Sasuke-kun!”

It was her blush and her futile effort to hide her breasts that supported her words, “ahhh I shouldn’t have said that! I’m sorry Sasuke-kun!”  

No. It’s my fault. Sometimes… This heart of mine falters easily when reminded of its old scars.

“Hn.” Having no idea how to return the ambiance of nostalgia, I turned my attention to her belly. In an attempt to distract myself from the rising panic, I started to map out the smooth pattern of her stretch marks.

She gasped at the touch. She replied by tugging at my hair. “It’s alright, Sasuke-kun.”

I have to turn the tables before this conversation went downhill. “What were you trying to say then?”

The crimson hue on her cheeks deepened. I pondered if it’s because the trail of my fingers was leading deep down to her thighs or it’s because of the illocutionary force behind her words.

Or maybe both.

“I remember another anecdote from her list.” She offered with voice strangled between decency and erotica. “T’was the d-day she went home late. Her eyes were puffy from crying and her glasses were broken.”

My hand paused when her words registered. “Who did it?” I asked sharply.

She massaged through my hair again to calm my nerves, “Sarada was bullied. When I asked her who and why, she won’t tell me because she knows that I’ll make a huge fuss about it.” She let out a melancholic sigh. “It was Naruto’s children who told me about it. Boruto explained, ‘we found her crying under the slide because some jerks broke her glasses and told her that she’s adopted.’

So that’s when she started to doubt her mother.

I pulled Sakura closer and planted a chase peck on her forehead.

She placed a hand on my chest as a response and connected the scars that decorate my skin. “But get this Sasuke-kun-Sarada entitled that anecdote ‘Daddy-like Kid.’ She cracked a smirk. “Himawari told me it was Boruto that calmed Sarada down.”

I kept my expression blank but no doubt she noticed my tense muscles. All of the emotions that surfaced because of the nightmare and unnecessary panic attack died down. However, to my demise, it was replaced by crazy assumptions, fueled by my fatherly instincts, suggesting of what could be the possible future of-

“Darling.” Sakura directed her lips on my ear, “Your jealous side is showing~”

I cringed back to glare at her properly, “I am not jealous.”

She narrowed her eyes mischievously, challenging my infamous glare, “oh really now.” She copied my smirk. “So it is fine that Sarada thinks of Boruto as-”

I dove down to capture her lips, preventing her from saying another word about the ridiculous matter. She giggled at my growls, still teasing through the use of lips and tongue and rising intimacy.

She tried to withdraw from the assaults of my mouth but failed ultimately. She instead let her body melt in to my dominance by audaciously asking for an entrance.

When I refused, she wrapped both arms around my neck and then swiftly shifted in to a straddling position to win back control. She now had me trapped between her legs, boldly showing what’s in between. And to further clarify the contexture of her demands, she lewdly ground her hips, flattening the pillow (and something else beneath it that’s throbbing) that prevents us from colliding.

I groaned out of frustration because that minimal amount of sensual pressure was not enough. And she took this as an opportunity to gasp for air as she annoyingly chortled. She brushed off my bangs again then placed her forehead to mine.

Our eyes met. “Are you okay now?”

I held her gaze. My heart picked up its pace. The countless, rotating tomoe dispel under her emerald eyes.  

Are you okay now?

Emerald eyes that have always been asking those words always have been looking at me even if it makes her cry. Those are the eyes that brought light to our coal black eyes, Sarada. The gleam that I never thought would come back. Those are the eyes that granted me the ability to think of a mirthful place in the midst of my chaotic mind. The place where all the forgotten beautiful memories reside that I never believed that could be revived.

           Am I okay now?

           Yes. Those are the emerald eyes that made me remember Sasuke who always die in the nightmares. Those are the beautiful eyes that beaconed as one of the proofs that there is something worth discovering, something worth protecting in this cruel world of ninjas.

“Sasuke-kun?” She caressed my cheeks.

           I captured her lips again, slowly, devotedly, reverting from the animalistic desires earlier. Her hands found their way to my hair again, tying knots, drawing me closer. My shoulders relaxed as the temperature of the room rose once again.

           Do you want to talk about it?

           It was my brother, Itachi’s love that demonstrated me the highest form of unmitigated familial love. It was the love that I have forgotten because it was buried underneath layers of deception, diffidence and corruption.

           “Sa-ku-ra…” My fingers outlined her spine with every syllable of her name, armed with the knowledge that the gesture turns her on.

           Yes. I want to talk about it but…

           It was Naruto, the idiot, which made me realize that I have someone who understands the pain and the loneliness of an orphaned kid starving for love-finding nothing but hatred. It was Naruto who swore that he would always willingly, stubbornly drag my ass back when I lost to the darkness again. It was him who taught me that it’s vacuous to sacrifice your own happiness so that you can cold-heartedly save the world.

           “S-sasuke…” She moaned as my lips ghosted to her jaw, then to her chin and then peppered hot nips on her neck. One of her hand relocated to my chest, drawing smooth lines leading leisurely down to my chiseled abs. She dared an experimental thrust, causing me to bite down at her pulse, earning herself a love mark and prizing me with the sweet sound of her whimpers.

           “Sakura…”

           -it was you who never did give up on loving me in spite of my countless, unforgivable attempts in ending your life. It was you-your lively eyes, your ever loyal heart, your boar-like determination that brought me in to conclusion that one of the justifiable means to obtain peace is to truly, faithfully, unconditionally love.

“Sasuke-kun…” She whined unabashedly as my lips latched themselves to one of her pink, perky breasts. Her hand ventured below the belt, trying to remove the pillow. It was my turn to halt her from getting what she wanted as I amorously embraced her closer, closer, until our torsos mashed. I rolled her other nipple between my teeth, making her arch her back, allowing me to behold a better view of her arousal.

I don’t know how to tell you.

I thought about it as I was on journey to redemption-it was Naruto and Itachi, my brothers who allowed me to forgive the world.

And that, it was team seven that reminded me what’s like to have a family.

“Sa-ku-ra-chan.” I mumbled against the valley of her bosoms. “You’re right…”

So, instead, let me show you…

-you who convinced me that it was time to forgive myself-

“A-about what, Sa-su-ke-kun?”

Let me prove to you…

-you, Sakura Uchiha, who strengthened our bond by graciously adopting my name even if you knew the burden it carried. Even if you knew I would be seldom home, resulting to numerous rumors about our marriage. For example, I chose you because of physical attraction or maybe because I couldn’t be bothered to search for a more suitable vassal to restore the Uchiha Clan.

I returned to her sweet lips and muttered, “I would love to make, I mean, see a child bearing your features~”

That I’m forever thankful…

As a respond to those accusations, you intrepidly showed those people, who would never understand, that the time you can truly say that it is love is when-even if every bits and pieces of flaws are laid bare and even if hope is just a small ray of light, it is enough to sacrifice, to inspire one in holding on and moving on along love and hate.

She shivered at my words. I tried to subtly slide away the pillow between our… a, object of desire but she ceased my attempt by clutching my waist with her muscled legs, pressing her drenched core to my abdomen.

That I love you too.

Darling… I want you to know that one of the things that Sarada listed…” She pulled at my hair to make me look at her irises again, staring me down, stating that her next words are quite important.

They say that there is a thin line between true love and stupidity…

“…she wants a baby brother…”

…I don’t know where we fall Sakura. But, who cares, right?

I narrowed my eyes mischievously, enjoying that flustered expression she had on her face, “oh really now.” I smirked.

We just love.

My hand moved on its own, searing every inch of skin it fondled.

“I love you Sasuke-kun…” She proclaimed once again.

These words are left unsaid yet you understand.

But before my lone hand wandered to the area where it would minister miracles (as she describes it)it folded into an all too familiar hand sign to give Sakura’s forehead a light tap.

That’s the reason why I chose you.

And it will always be you…


a/n: haha hope you guys enjoyed it. Been loving these two for a decade and thank heavens they’re canon. Don’t you think so too?

12x19 Deconstruction: Cas and Kelly, and Most of the Episode

Oh, this episode. This episode has me salivating with inspiration and a bit of worship - the structure is so damn good I want to just use it as a private staple from here on out. (I won’t.) (Or will I?…) Okay, let’s move onto the actual focus of this deconstruction: the baby. I have stated again and again how…

I do not believe the baby is evil - I believe it’s good

So let me here give you my foremost reasons for why I so firmly believe this, but first, can we just do a slow clap for the amazing work of writers Robert Berens and Meredith Glynn and the stunning job done on this episode by director Amanda Tapping? Thank you. (Yes, okay, let’s stop now.)

I’m going to have to dip into the entirety of this episode now in order to make my reasons for believing the baby is of the Good stick. I’ll spend an extra moment on the pivotal scene in the motel room, but honestly, this episode is so Cas/Kelly focused that it’s impossible not to look at the entirety of both of their story lines through every beat of this forty-two minute blitz of deep character development for Cas. It’s fucking amazingly crafted. Again, prostrated on the floor, Writers.

But what about Destiel?

Well, of course this is a Destiel heavy episode, and for very good reasons, too, but I’m going to discuss Dean as he relates to Cas’ character arc this time around, rather than how they both relate to their joint love story arc. (Okay, the love story arc will be part of this discussion because it can’t not be, but it won’t be in focus.) (There will be Destiel.) (Wait COME BACK I SAID THERE WILL BE DESTIE—… Good. Hi. There will be Destiel. Okay? Just alittlemoreCasKellybabydiscussionshhhhhhh let’s begin now.)

So, then: Why Is the Baby Good?

Oh, boy. The answer is a long and complex one, because it doesn’t really occur in one scene, rather it just keeps coming at you throughout the episode. And it starts as early as the recap sequence, where we’re reminded of Dagon’s role as Protector. The dialogue where she convinces Kelly to come with her is chilling, and significant:

Dagon: I’m a demon - you’re Rosemary, complete with baby. Kelly, the angels, the Wincesters, the good guys - they want you dead, but I can protect you. I can protect your son.

Even though Kelly might have had reservations, what happens when the Winchesters decide to interfere, tricking Kelly and more or less kidnapping her against her will, really only serves to prove one thing: they have nothing on Dagon.

Sam: We want to help.
Kelly: You call this helping?

Kelly has no faith in them whatsoever and when Dagon comes for her, she’s resigned to go with her - there’s no salvation to be had here, the Winchesters, whatever their motivation, can’t protect her or her child.

Keep reading

3

(actually, a lil bit more now, thanks everyone !!)

asdfgkuf !!! GAAAH !!! I’m so, so, so happy !!

Geez, guys !! You’re incredible !! 

I can’t believe it… I started Tumblr a month ago, Laps was just created and I was so lost here ! I was looking at all the wonderful artists there are here ! You’re all amazing !!

Thanks ! I never though my art was good enough to be appreciated and followed, it means so much for me ! You can’t even imagine !

Some people told me 100 isn’t that high, but I don’t believe them, it’s so damn incredible ! I’m so glad people love my art !

And I’m followed by some senpais, which is… gaah ! I’ve nerver imagined reach this point to be honest ! Senpais, I respect you so much, thanks you all again !!

And speaking of senpai… the 100th followers I had, was… well… the most unexpected one seriously… *inspire* @kiacii, since when do you know I exist ?! You’re a god ! Why ?!!! I look up on you so much !! It’s amazing !!! Thanks !!!

Wouaw, it’s just so cool, guys, I’m so happy, you’re all so amazing ! Thanks for your support, it means so much for me !

And @psukho​ and @tsukihotaru, thanks for always be here, I love you ! <3

And for the ones who asked, Lapstale will be posted next month ! I hope you’ll like it <3

Little bunny

Based on: imagine 1, imagine 2 and imagine 3 from @middle-earth-imagines + imagine 4 from @imaginexhobbit.

I would like to dedicate this to the lovely @pureimagination01! Have some Bilbo-goodness!…. I had to write this…..

Originally posted by loriendesse

There he was, again. At first you had thought the Hobbit had got lost but now you were quite sure he was following you.

Everything had started some hours before.

Before starting an apparently very serious and private conversation with the Wizard, Lord Elrond had designated you to show the other uncommon guests their chambers: thirteen Dwarves and a Halfling were definitely uncommon but life in Rivendell could be a bit boring sometimes, so a little change was well-accepted. Besides, you had always been quite curious towards other races, even though you knew how much Dwarves despised Elves and it’d been clear from the very beginning that their arrival in Imladris wasn’t planned, at least not by them. You knew that Gandalf the Grey was Lord Elrond’s friend, so the real “news” was the little Halfling; nobody had seemed to pay much attention to him, not even his companions, so you didn’t know his name, you only knew that he looked bewildered and adorable.

Keep reading

What You Lost (Calum Hood)

if house fires are triggering to you, you probably shouldn’t read this one (no deaths, but i don’t want to be attacked for not putting some type of disclaimer)

~

It was a call as routine as any other – someone called 911 about a house fire and the crew was now on the way to put it out. Calum was the station’s go-to paramedic – even though no serious injuries were reported, he was always right alongside his coworkers just in case – so he quickly grabbed the keys to the ambulance and followed the firetruck to the scene.

The firehouse dog – a black lab named Rusty – was sitting shotgun in the ambulance. He was there as a form of comfort to victims of car accidents and fires, and while he was mainly taken in by the department to help kids feel better, adults were also comforted by the canine as well.

Calum pulled up to the curb and got out of his ambulance, taking Rusty’s leash and letting him jump out of the vehicle as well. But as he was standing there, getting his bag from the back, the dog immediately took off, causing Calum to drop the leash.

Rusty!” he called, spinning around. His eyes immediately found the lab as he trotted up to a (h/c)-haired girl sitting on the ground in front of the burning house.

Keep reading

Making Love

I woke up with a sharp jolt. I didn’t have the time to remember the context of the nightmare. The dark room didn’t help. It only lured the images that had faded. The silence didn’t help. It only encouraged the voices of my distress that disrupted my sleep. It was the nightmare so disturbing that it left my heart to beat plangently, causing my ears to ring, making my head ache, tightening my chest.

Cold sweat started to secrete from my bare skin, mixing with the sticky precipitation that was produced from last night’s copulating.

I trembled. I waited for the pounding of my heart to slow down. I thought back the passionate hours to keep my mind from retracting in the darkness. I combated the blood-curling screams with the timbre of my Sakura’s pleased moans and small whimpers. I replaced the scenes of death with the picture of my wife’s pink hair, curtaining her bright green eyes as she erratically move her hips to achieve euphoria.

That’s right. It’s alright if I got roused again and had to relieve it by myself (it’s rude to wake someone up just for such insolent reason.)

I allowed myself to think of anything, everything, just to dispel affective residue of the nightmare.

Think of anything but that.

“Sasuke-kun.” I flinched.

A small, delicate hand patted my back. When I didn’t respond, the hand trailed on to my shoulder, squeezing it affectionately. She scooted closer so she can place her chin on the spot where the curse mark used to reside. “Do you want to talk about it?”

After hearing those words, the dangerous beating of my heart appeased. I bowed down and shook a no.

She made a sound behind her throat, a sign that she’s thinking of ways to distract me from my thoughts. The hand on my shoulder tickled its way down my sole arm. Her nimble fingers traced the visible veins and then it landed on my palm where she drew infinite spirals. She repeated this antic until my breathing went back to normal.

“I’m not supposed to say this.” She began as her hand clasped mine. She pressed her body closer, my bare back feeling her healthy breasts. “But I think Sarada has already forgotten about it, so I guess it is okay to share it.”

I squeezed her hand, silently encouraging her to continue.

She let out a giggle, “When Sarada was six she started a list that she called, ‘Things That I’m Gonna Tell Papa When He Comes Home.’

A small smile graced on my lips. I released Sakura’s hand then gently shrug her off. Understanding my actions, she moved away and began piling the pillows against the headboard. When that’s done, I rested my back on the make-shift lean. I opened my arm, gesturing her to come closer. She happily obliged. She took a small pillow, placed it on my nether region before sitting on my lap. I wrap my arm around her waist. She looped an arm round my neck. I pulled our comforter over our naked body.

“What does it contain?” I mumbled.

“Hmm…” She wondered as her fingers play with my hair. “On the… Let’s say, preface of her list, she said, ‘Papa comes home only once or twice a month. You have to persuade him to teach you something new.’ Then at the bottom, there’s a footnote that says, ‘You have to perfect everything that Papa teaches you Sarada! Shannaro!’

We chuckled quietly in unison. Nuzzling her cheek on the crook of my neck she continued, “If memory serves right, one of her anecdotes is when she finally perfected her shuriken throws. You should’ve seen her solo trainings Sasuke-kun. Every day, I had to tend her hands full of cuts and grazes.”

My eyebrows knotted as Sakura tells the story because of two reasons. One, old friends, regret and longing visited my chest. I wish I was there to see, watch her struggle for greatness.

“Oh! Speaking of training, next to shuriken throwing is, ‘The Day I Finally Created a Katon Goukakyuu!’” She made a circle in the air, her viridian eyes gleaming with pride. “She never faltered even if her cheeks are blistered!”

She laughed softly at the memory. She glanced up and reached for my forehead. “You know what Sasuke-kun?” She tenderly brushed away the bangs that’s covering my other eye then cupped my face, “She reminds me of you.”

And two-Sakura’s right, verbalizing my thoughts perfectly. Sarada reminds me of me, Sasuke, two decades younger. Sasuke with eyes that can shine even if they’re dark as coal. Sasuke who had his head lifted as he chase down his idol, his inspiration, his reason. Sasuke who died in my personal nightmare.

“She embodies you in so many ways. Not that I’m complaining though.” She sighed dramatically then pointedly followed, “But I wish a child would inherit some of my features.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Is that bad? That… she’s like me?”

‘lub-DUB…’

Do you think that she’ll also commit the same mistakes and sins that I did?

‘lub-DUB.’ Inferiority. ‘lub-DUB.’ Fear. ‘lub-DUB.’ Anxiety. ‘lub-DUB -!’

Do you think she’ll get lost on the darkness too?

‘LUB-DUB, LUB-DUB-!’ Trauma. ‘LUB-DUB, LUB-DUB-!’ Hatred. ‘LUB-DUB, LUB-DUB-!’ Loneliness-

‘LUB-DUB!’

The awful metamorphosis of my heart in the last moment of my childhood,hand in hand, the countless tomoe spiraled in to a constant repetition.

When can you say that you have atoned for the sins you have done?

“Sasuke, love.” I flinched.

Sakura ran her fingers through my hair as her other hand remained on my temple, keeping my bangs from covering my powerful eyes. She held their glare, showing no fear. “That’s not what I’m trying to say.”

I know. But…

“Is that bad?” I asked again, this time, it came out raspy and strained. “Do you think-”

She kissed the tip of my nose then pinched my cheeks, “Of course not! You got it all wrong Sasuke-kun!”

It was her blush and her futile effort to hide her breasts that supported her words, “ahhh I shouldn’t have said that! I’m sorry Sasuke-kun!”  

No. It’s my fault. Sometimes… This heart of mine falters easily when reminded of its old scars.

“Hn.” Having no idea how to return the ambiance of nostalgia, I turned my attention to her belly. In an attempt to distract myself from the rising panic, I started to map out the smooth pattern of her stretch marks.

She gasped at the touch. She replied by tugging at my hair. “It’s alright, Sasuke-kun.”

I have to turn the tables before this conversation went downhill. “What were you trying to say then?”

The crimson hue on her cheeks deepened. I pondered if it’s because the trail of my fingers was leading deep down to her thighs or it’s because of the illocutionary force behind her words.

Or maybe both.

“I remember another anecdote from her list.” She offered with voice strangled between decency and erotica. “T’was the d-day she went home late. Her eyes were puffy from crying and her glasses were broken.”

My hand paused when her words registered. “Who did it?” I asked sharply.

 She massaged through my hair again to calm my nerves, “Sarada was bullied. When I asked her who and why, she won’t tell me because she knows that I’ll make a huge fuss about it.” She let out a melancholic sigh. “It was Naruto’s children who told me about it. Boruto explained, ‘we found her crying under the slide because some jerks broke her glasses and told her that she’s adopted.’

So that’s when she started to doubt her mother.

I pulled Sakura closer and planted a chase peck on her forehead.

She placed a hand on my chest as a response and connected the scars that decorate my skin. “But get this Sasuke-kun-Sarada entitled that anecdote ‘Daddy-like Kid.’ She cracked a smirk. “Himawari told me it was Boruto that calmed Sarada down.”

I kept my expression blank but no doubt she noticed my tense muscles. All of the emotions that surfaced because of the nightmare and unnecessary panic attack died down. However, to my demise, it was replaced by crazy assumptions, fueled by my fatherly instincts, suggesting of what could be the possible future of-

“Darling.” Sakura directed her lips on my ear, “Your jealous side is showing~”

I cringed back to glare at her properly, “I am not jealous.”

She narrowed her eyes mischievously, challenging my infamous glare, “oh really now.” She copied my smirk. “So it is fine that Sarada thinks of Boruto as-”

I dove down to capture her lips, preventing her from saying another word about the ridiculous matter. She giggled at my growls, still teasing through the use of lips and tongue and rising intimacy.

She tried to withdraw from the assaults of my mouth but failed ultimately. She instead let her body melt in to my dominance by audaciously asking for an entrance.

When I refused, she wrapped both arms around my neck and then swiftly shifted in to a straddling position to win back control. She now had me trapped between her legs, boldly showing what’s in between. And to further clarify the contexture of her demands, she lewdly ground her hips, flattening the pillow (and something else beneath it that’s throbbing) that prevents us from colliding.

I groaned out of frustration because that minimal amount of sensual pressure was not enough. And she took this as an opportunity to gasp for air as she annoyingly chortled. She brushed off my bangs again then placed her forehead to mine.

Our eyes met. “Are you okay now?”

I held her gaze. My heart picked up its pace. The countless, rotating tomoe dispel under her emerald eyes.  

Are you okay now?

Emerald eyes that have always been asking those words always have been looking at me even if it makes her cry. Those are the eyes that brought light to our coal black eyes, Sarada. The gleam that I never thought would come back. Those are the eyes that granted me the ability to think of a mirthful place in the midst of my chaotic mind. The place where all the forgotten beautiful memories reside that I never believed that could be revived.

            Am I okay now?

Yes. Those are the emerald eyes that made me remember Sasuke who always die in the nightmares. Those are the beautiful eyes that beaconed as one of the proofs that there is something worth discovering, something worth protecting in this cruel world of ninjas.

“Sasuke-kun?” She caressed my cheeks.

            I captured her lips again, slowly, devotedly, reverting from the animalistic desires earlier. Her hands found their way to my hair again, tying knots, drawing me closer. My shoulders relaxed as the temperature of the room rose once again.

            Do you want to talk about it?

            It was my brother, Itachi’s love that demonstrated me the highest form of unmitigated familial love. It was the love that I have forgotten because it was buried underneath layers of deception, diffidence and corruption.

            “Sa-ku-ra…” My fingers outlined her spine with every syllable of her name, armed with the knowledge that the gesture turns her on.

            Yes. I want to talk about it but…

            It was Naruto, the idiot, which made me realize that I have someone who understands the pain and the loneliness of an orphaned kid starving for love-finding nothing but hatred. It was Naruto who swore that he would always willingly, stubbornly drag my ass back when I lost to the darkness again. It was him who taught me that it’s vacuous to sacrifice your own happiness so that you can cold-heartedly save the world.

            “S-sasuke…” She moaned as my lips ghosted to her jaw, then to her chin and then peppered hot nips on her neck. One of her hand relocated to my chest, drawing smooth lines leading leisurely down to my chiseled abs. She dared an experimental thrust, causing me to bite down at her pulse, earning herself a love mark and prizing me with the sweet sound of her whimpers.

            “Sakura…”

            -it was you who never did give up on loving me in spite of my countless, unforgivable attempts in ending your life. It was you-your lively eyes, your ever loyal heart, your boar-like determination that brought me in to conclusion that one of the justifiable means to obtain peace is to truly, faithfully, unconditionally love.

“Sasuke-kun…” She whined unabashedly as my lips latched themselves to one of her pink, perky breasts. Her hand ventured below the belt, trying to remove the pillow. It was my turn to halt her from getting what she wanted as I amorously embraced her closer, closer, until our torsos mashed. I rolled her other nipple between my teeth, making her arch her back, allowing me to behold a better view of her arousal.

I don’t know how to tell you.

I thought about it as I was on journey to redemption-it was Naruto and Itachi, my brothers who allowed me to forgive the world.

And that, it was team seven that reminded me what’s like to have a family.

“Sa-ku-ra-chan.” I mumbled against the valley of her bosoms. “You’re right…”

So, instead, let me show you…

-you who convinced me that it was time to forgive myself-

“A-about what, Sa-su-ke-kun?”

Let me prove to you…

-you, Sakura Uchiha, who strengthened our bond by graciously adopting my name even if you knew the burden it carried. Even if you knew I would be seldom home, resulting to numerous rumors about our marriage. For example, I chose you because of physical attraction or maybe because I couldn’t be bothered to search for a more suitable vassal to restore the Uchiha Clan.

I returned to her sweet lips and muttered, “I would love to make, I mean, see a child bearing your features~”

That I’m forever thankful…

As a respond to those accusations, you intrepidly showed those people, who would never understand, that the time you can truly say that it is love is when-even if every bits and pieces of flaws are laid bare and even if hope is just a small ray of light, it is enough to sacrifice, to inspire one in holding on and moving on along love and hate.

She shivered at my words. I tried to subtly slide away the pillow between our… a, object of desire but she ceased my attempt by clutching my waist with her muscled legs, pressing her drenched core to my abdomen.

That I love you too.

Darling… I want you to know that one of the things that Sarada listed…” She pulled at my hair to make me look at her irises again, staring me down, stating that her next words are quite important.

They say that there is a thin line between true love and stupidity…

“…she wants a baby brother…”

…I don’t know where we fall Sakura. But, who cares, right?

I narrowed my eyes mischievously, enjoying that flustered expression she had on her face, “oh really now.” I smirked.

We just love.  

My hand moved on its own, searing every inch of skin it fondled.

“I love you Sasuke-kun…” She proclaimed once again.

These words are left unsaid yet you understand.

But before my lone hand wandered to the area where it would minister miracles (as she describes it)it folded into an all too familiar hand sign to give Sakura’s forehead a light tap.

That’s the reason why I chose you.

And it will always be you…

anonymous asked:

Hi can you give me some sh blogs to follow that don't have a lot of negativity please, this drama is giving me a headache

Hi! I may not be the best person to ask this of, but I will do my best. 

Tbh, I’m glad you are still following me after all of the drama I’ve been posting about. I advertise as “negativity free” with the intention being that I would only post positivity and nice things and stay away from the drama. Lol. I don’t think I’m doing too great at that. 

However, I have tried to remain level-headed and fair in regards to all the critical discussions happening in the fandom rn, when I do engage in it. I’ve lost several followers, but also gained some. So I must be doing something right XP. Thank all of you for sticking with me btw!!! You’re all amazing. 

Anywho….

I follow a lot of great people, but with the whirlwind of posts and opinions flying around I have not really kept track on all of my faves opinions on everything. I know they are all varying so you should totally check out the people I reblog frequently because even though they may have different opinions on what qualifies as negativity, they are all super nice, wonderful angels.

You can start with these people right here:

@malecisright @leetje @ladymatt @blj2007 @mypatronusismalec @boyfriendsmalec @peachyjellybean @bonus-point @only-1-a @daddarios @gleeksfreaksandwannabes @darquebane @magicandarchery @sfjessii @sharona1x2 @alyxhavok @write-yourself @courageincombat @alec-s-arrows @lightwoodsibs5ever @soulisthirsty @highwarlok @summerseasbooks @magnusandalec @ninsuninja @x5vale

At the end of the day

Blindspot fanfic.

Loosely based on my prognostications and the promotional stills for the finale. A little angsty optimism, which kind of sums up my mood at the lack of a season three renewal announcement. 

Here’s hoping tonight’s episode and the season finale don’t kill us. 


“Come in, Jane.” Weller waved her into a chair in front of his desk.

She entered his office and perched awkwardly on the edge of the seat. Such formality seemed so foreign after all they been through today. After the passionate kiss they’d shared when they thought they’d lost, when they believed there was nothing left to save them from Shepherd’s wrath. Nothing but…

“There’s no sign of Roman,” Weller said quietly. “He’s gone.”

She nodded. She already knew that. She’d known the minute he saved them that she’d already lost him. The look in his eye had told her that. He’d barely glanced at her, just stared at Weller for a minute, raised his chin for a minute in a slight nod, and then took off.

“We’ll keep looking.”

She sighed. “It won’t do any good. He knows how not to be found.” And he didn’t want to be found, not by the FBI and definitely not by her.

Keep reading

Do you remember the way you used to chase me, always trying your hardest to keep me from doing the wrong thing? I’d been naive, and I jumped on the first thing that looked like my dreams even though you always told me about all the things I couldn’t see. I’d watch your hand poke around in the darkness I’d backed up into, believing that the beacon it was meant that I couldn’t be entirely lost. And every time you just missed me, every time you turned around expecting me to follow you back to safety, you’d realize that I wasn’t there. I had drowned myself. You didn’t do that to me, and you can’t blame yourself for it. Some spells just don’t last long enough to be blissful, and naturally there came a point when that drove me mad. Everything you had predicted came to pass and everything you said would happen did. I’d hate you for it if I could, just like you’d hate me if you didn’t care so much.
—  🖤

Out of Mercy //  Something terrible happened…

So, you guys know how I had changed my name from misplacedxheroics to hyperionknight, right? (Right, Syn! Please, do go on…)

I had a few other names that I had reserved, and when I decided on hyperionknight I had plans to release the other names that I had kept on hand.

Well.

Thanks to Tumblr’s glitchy interface, even though it showed that I had THE SIDEBLOG SELECTED, my MAIN blog was deleted instead.

So… I suppose in some way, I did do what I had intended, by removing the sideblog. I just didn’t expect tumblr to ASSUME that I wanted my main blog deleted.

So yeah. 56 drafts, completely gone. Saved posts, things in the queue – MY HEADCANONS….

Thankfully most of it was backed up last December. At least I have that, but I lost my followers, and I lost the people I’m following.

Hhgh. This really sucks guys. I sent an email to @staff informing them of what happened, but after doing my own research, the chance for recovery is nil. (Staff, with as many sponsored ads that you push out on us, there needs to be some level of account recovery. Retro is cool and all but it’s time to live in the now…)

So if you can, please give this post a reblog, I have a LOT of mutuals with my followers so please spread the word. 

I’m so sorry guys. Please be patient with me as I try to gather up the pieces of my main blog. 

The Yule Ball. [Newt x Reader]

Originally posted by trechos-of-books

A/N: merry christmas everyone! sorry for the late thingie I was celebrating for a while and had the most horrible hangover ever. This could be tied into Peculiar, but it’s not canonically correct. Either way, names are used. Still, hope you like it! <3 (side note: still working on masterlist. new one should be either today or tomorrow)
Words: 2592
Warnings: none
Peculiar.

MASTERLIST. KO-FI.

It had taken all of his courage, despite the two of you now being together, to make those words spill from his mouth. It was a big jumble of incoherent meek murmurs but you most certainly understood what Newt Scamander had in mind when in a heated breath he mumbled, “this—Yule-I…maybe, you…have…” his hands then jittered in the air as if it would be easier to convey his point, “…please?” the look in his magnificent green eyes was hopeful and strained with cracking nerves. The tension in the air – one he was imagining, no doubt – was deflated along with his tensed shoulders as a brilliant smile bloomed on your face with a small tint of a blush on your cheeks.

Keep reading

ID #29989

Name: Alfio
Age: 16
Country: Italy

Heyo! I hope you’re having a good day.
My name is Alfio, but you can call me by my second name, Emanuel, if you prefer. I live in Venice, that wet city in northern Italy, even though I’m half French and follow a French culture within my family.
My interests include, but are not limited to: ice & inline skating, music and journalism. My strongest passion, however, is maths. I’m willing to tell you more about this in the future, if you are curious.
I’m a master procrastinator. I get lost in the Internet almost every day; and the few days I don’t I’m either super busy or else daydreaming and crushing on people I’m too shy to talk to. I have a weakness for genuine smiles.

My ideal penpal is a young and characteristic individual who has some kind of strong interest or talent in addition to an accepting and open mindset. I’m looking for both debates and simple chatter. I may transform into a rant machine sometimes, and I sincerely ask you to forgive me in advance.

I’m hyper enthusiastic about snail mail.

Preferences: I would be honored to talk to anybody whose age lies between 14 and 20; just be respectful and have an open mind!

anonymous asked:

I love the Jewish headcanon for the Earps. What led you to that?

bc wyatt earp’s third wife (the only one that makes sense canonically to be the mother of the Earp line) was Jewish and Wyatt Earp was historically very respectful of that. he even (though this is only a theory bc the exact cause of the fight was lost to the ages (this one is p likely given some letters that were found tho)) got into a fight with his bff doc holliday over doc’s anti-semitism and they literally NEVER. TALKED. AGAIN. (i mean there were other factors besides wyatt’s respect towards Judaism. there was also possibly doc insulting wyatt’s maybe side chick who was Jewish (and also who later became his third wife so……awkward.)) wyatt earp respected Judaism and knew enough about it to follow customs without being told. Josephine Earp was Jewish and if she wanted to raise her kids Jewish i think wyatt would go along with it. esp since i dont think he was shown to have strong religious feelings in any direction.

    so, historically, i think that the Earps being Jewish makes the most sense. in heritage if not in practice (i say that bc i cant see asshole Ward bothering to teach the kiddos about their heritage, religion, or culture)