everyone keeps asking where they are

anonymous asked:

god I know people tell you this all the time but thank you so much for this blog and everything you do. It really feels like a safe space where we can all casually (and obsessively) fangirl over fanfic and recommend ones we enjoy to others. It gives me such positive feelings and I can't help but check your blog throughout the day. Much love to you Hailey <3

This makes me so happy to hear! I really try my best to keep this a safe place for everyone, and I appreciate everyone for doing the same! It’s an amazing thing to be able to be yourself and enjoy the things you like without judgment or fear. I’m SO glad you like the blog! Much love to you too! <3

The Creators of Yuri on Ice
  • Episode one: let's make the gay really subtle and not distract from the story line
  • Episode two: Just make the opening a little gayer and have Viktor touch Yuri a bunch, but in a teasing flirting way. We don't want to go overboard
  • Episode four: Let's just straight up have Viktor ask to be Yuri's lover. That should get everyone on the same page
  • Episode seven: Make them kiss ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
  • Episode nine: They're still??? not??? convinced??? After that? Ok, so this time do like a really big dramatic airport scene where they run at each other and Yuri uses the same words as a proposal to ask Viktor to stay with him. But still keep it subtle. We're going For sub-context here to let the audience figure it out.

We had a Grammy after party and a birthday party for Kelly Rowland on Sunday. Everyone keeps asking, “Where’s Michelle? Where’s Michelle?”. She was there. Who do you think is taking all the pictures? She was also great at watching everyone’s coats and purses. 

Writing Series #2: Plotting

Everyone has their own strategy for this one, but it’s also probably the aspect of writing that we ask each other about most of the time: what do you do to figure out your plot? How do you stick to a plot? How do you know where a story is going? How do you stay interested long enough to finish? How do you keep from getting lost? For first time writers, this is particularly daunting, as we tend to think of a book–all 80,000 words or so–as overwhelming and more than we know how to accomplish, as something too big or unattainable. 

Some writers sit down with a single idea and go from there, letting the story come as it may and waiting for the ideas to strike as they write. For many writers, this works. For me, it doesn’t. 

My process looks a lot more like this:

  1. Wait for an idea to strike (and I mean strike; it has to come to me, haunt me, bug me, until I’m sure I can do nothing but write it)
  2. Plot. Plan out everything. Write it all down, outlining each chapter–what will happen in each and how many there will be.
  3. Write. 
  4. Edit. 
  5. Edit again. 

Step One: There are lots of good ideas out there, and my notebooks are filled with ideas; ideas that occurred to me in the middle of the night, ideas I thought up after witnessing something in a park or listening to a good song. New ideas are exciting and can lead to great things, but I won’t turn any of them into a book until I’m sure the idea won’t go away. 

I don’t write it down. That’s the first test; if I haven’t forgotten it the next day, or the next, or the next, then I know it might actually lead somewhere, that it’s not a fleeting idea that will tempt me and then leave me hanging. I let this go on for a month–yes, a whole month–and if at the end of that month, I still can’t let that idea go, if it’s still rolling around in my head, waiting to be explored, then I move onto step two. By then, I know that the idea and me are long-term, that we’re in this for the long run. 

Step Two: I plot. I plot everything. 

  • I start with the main arc: where do I want the story to start, and where do I want it to finish. In my most recent story, for example, I knew that I wanted the main character to begin cynical of love and relationships, and I wanted the story to end with him opening his heart to the possibility (even if he wasn’t yet in a relationship–that bit I’d find out later). I knew I wanted the three strangers at the beginning of the story to be best friends by the end. I knew they’d all start with some trauma, and I wanted them all to successfully be on the path to recovery and healing by the end. 
  • Then I looked to time: I believe it’s important to know just how much ground, chronologically speaking, a book is going to cover. I needed to know how long my characters would have to experience the emotional growth mentioned above (the less time, the more the plot would have to directly affect them, the more intense that plot would need to be). I gave them the summer. Just three months to learn and get to know each other, which meant every day was going to count, and I wasn’t going to be writing a lot of moments skipping ahead in time. (If the story was to last five years, for example, I’d have a lot more room to build these relationships, and so things could unfold more subtly and with large chunks of time between.)
  • Then I look to characters: I write down all the main and minor characters (naming them is a good first step, though this can change later) and I write down both their emotional state when the story starts and what they’re actively doing with their lives, and their emotional state when the story ends and where they’re at/going with their lives then. 

As you’ll see, there’s a pattern here: I figure out point A and point B. Then I make a list of little things I want to happen, different scenes that have begun to play out in my head, interactions I want the characters to have, pitstops no the way from A to B. And slowly, I build the story around them. I begin to figure out how we get there, which road the story is going to take, and little by little, the story comes together until I have an outline that looks a bit like this:

Chapter One: Opens in [setting]. Character A talks to Character B about [topic] They meet Character C. Ends with Character A realizing [topic]. 

And so on, until we get to the last chapter. In a way, this outline becomes a script, my go-to plan. 

Do I always stick to the script? No. But when I begin to write, I keep that list pulled up beside my new blank word document, and I read it from time to time. Sometimes, once I get writing, once I begin to know the characters a bit more, and once the story finds a voice of its own, I go off script, and the story takes me places I wouldn’t have expected. But I always make sure I refer back, make sure that one way or another, I come back to to road map. It’s okay to take a pitstop on the path, to go off on a tangent, but the plot map allows me to find my way back to what’s relevant, to what I know has to happen to get from A to B. 

For any writers out there who worry about making their stories big enough, who have trouble thinking of side plots, this is also a good way to map that out and see where your story has room to grow and what it can encapsulate. It lets you see just how big the story will become and if it belongs in novel format or if, perhaps, the idea is better suited for a short story. 

To all the writers out there: how do you plot? Are you a planner or a wing-it sort of writer, or is there some way to write in between? Feel free to comment her or message with your go-to tips!

Prison AU Starter Sentences

“How long have you still got?”
“What are you in here for?”
“Do you have a family, outside?”
“How did I let this happen to myself? How did I end up in here?!”
“I’m out of toothpaste, can I borrow some of yours just this once?”
“How can anyone eat this food?”
“You’re new here, aren’t you?”
“Why is everyone in here so nasty?”
“I have no idea how I’m going to survive in here without going insane.”
“Where are you from?”
“I just got here… One of the guards told me I could ask you to show me around.”
“I didn’t even do anything wrong. I just did what I thought was right.”
“Don’t worry about it, everyone cries themselves to sleep the first night.”
“I’ve been in here for so long.”
“Keeping us like this shouldn’t be allowed. We’re still people.”
“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be in here anymore!”
“I’m losing myself in here.”
“Whenever I wake up I keep my eyes closed for just a few moments, so I can pretend I’m home, in my own bed.”
“I can’t remember what it feels like to get hugged.”
“What do you miss the most?”
“You get used to the place, eventually…”

“I can’t keep visiting you. It breaks my heart to see you like this.”
“So, how’s prison?”
“Do they watch you while you shower?”
“This is the last time I’m visiting you.”
“Are you managing in here? You look really tired.”
“You look cleaner than I expected.”
“I don’t care what you get up to in there. Just know that I’ll be waiting for you when you get out.”
“Are you allowed to go outside?”
“I don’t recognise you anymore.”
“I won’t ever stop visiting you.”
“You’re so stupid, getting yourself locked up!”
“It’s over. I can’t sit around waiting for you to get out. I have to move on.”

How to Maintain Your Brow Shape

Whilst brows should be thick, there is no such thing as a universally flattering shape. This is merely a guide on how to reshape your brows, I highly recommend that everyone visit a brow specialist at least once in their life, you can keep them in shape yourself. A good brow stylist should be able to figure out your ideal shape just by looking at you. Make sure you do your research and ask a lot of questions before choosing a brow stylist.

Whether you choose to wax, tweeze or thread is entirely up to you. Waxing and threading are best for removing large amounts of hair where as in tweezing is best for precision and removing small amounts of hair.

Keep reading

RebelCaptain Wedding Headcanon

- Cassian doesn’t really ask her, he tells her                                                      “I want to marry you”                                                                                    “Then marry me”                                                                                                 

- He asked Chirrut to help him make a kyber crystal engagement ring

-At first they tried to keep it a secret and have a small ceremony where Mon Mothma married them but of course Chirrut told everyone

-”like you could get married without us?”

- Mon and K-2SO become wedding planners and you would often see them holding clipboards and be covered in tool                                                          “I’m thinking lilies”                                                                                  “definetely lilies”

- K2 deems himself best man and gives the sassiest speech known to man                                                                                                                                        -He even wears a bow tie for it                                                                              “I even think it’s a special occasion and I’m a droid”

- Jyn doesn’t have a lot of close female friends and asks Bodhi to be her bridesman instead                                                                                                 *Bodhi pretends that he’s not crying pt.1*

-He’s with her when she goes dress shopping

-Jyn doesn’t end up buying a dress, she gets a white flowy outfit that she felt way more comfortable in (might draw this and post it!!) 

-it was Bodhi’s idea                                                                                      Bodhi: Do you like that one?                                                                           Jyn: I just hate dresses                                                                                       Bodhi: then don’t wear one?

- Baze walks Jyn down the aisle                                                                       “I’m proud of you, little sister”

-Cassian is actually so nervous and paces for an hour before the wedding

-Bodhi gives him a big pep talk and Cassian tells him he loves him                      *Bodhi pretends he’s not crying pt.2*

-Cassians vows are in Spanish and Jyn learns hers in Spanish as a surprise

-When she starts speaking Chirrut literally WAILS                  

- Chirrut catches the bouquet (this may spark an idea for Baze……)                                                                                                                                               -K2 is so jealous he wanted to catch it so bad                                                     “This was rigged”       

-Chirrut just won’t stop crying                    

Sneaking Around

Joe trusted Y/N, with every fibre of his being, he trusted his girlfriend.

But when she was constantly sneaking off to who knows where, making up weak excuses, and disappearing for hours at end, that trust wavered. Just a little.

They had always been open and honest with each other, refusing to hide anything from the beginning of their relationship, so it was really odd to have Y/N be so secretive and keeping a secret from him.

He tried asking the boys, because they were close with her as well, but even they got all weird, avoiding answering the question directly.

It seemed like everyone was in on the secret except for Joe.

That didn’t sit well with him.

At all.

After Y/N called out some random excuse before slipping out of the door once again, Joe decided to take matters into his own hands.

So he did the rational and mature thing.

He followed her.

A small part of him did feel guilty, because he shouldn’t be following his girlfriend through the streets of London, but then he remembered she was hiding something from him, and the guilt was gone.

If anyone should feel guilty, it was her. Because she was making him paranoid.

And when he stumbled across what she had been doing, he realized he had every right to be paranoid.

Joe felt his blood boil as she hugged Jack tightly, grinning up at him. And when the younger Maynard placed a hand on the small of Y/N’s back, leading her into the restaurant, Joe figured out what was going on.

He just never thought that she would cheat on him.

Deciding to give them a few more days to come clean, Joe kept mostly to himself.

He let her give him the weak excuses, let her sneak off to be with Jack, and he remained at home, trying to convince himself that what he saw wasn’t real. That the woman he loved was not cheating on him with one of his best mates.

But neither of them came forward, admitting to their infidelity, and Joe was getting frustrated. So he decided to confront them.

“Do you ever plan on telling me?” Joe asked Y/N as they stood in the kitchen.

The other boys were over too, sat on the couch playing a video game. He hadn’t wanted to do this while everyone was present, but he didn’t want to give Y/N and Jack a chance to meet up again.

“Telling you what, babe?” She asked, pouring some chips into a bowl.

“Stop acting innocent!” Joe slammed his hand down onto the counter, making her jump and stare in shock over at him. The boys paused the game at his outburst, glancing over at the couple. “I know!”

“Know what?”

“Really?” Joe snapped, “You’re really going to try and act like you don’t know?”

“Everything okay?” Jack called over, standing from the couch.

“No.” Joe shifted his glare over to the younger man, “Because you two refuse to just admit it already!”

“Admit what, mate?” Jack stepped closer, sending Y/N a quick look, ensuring she was alright.

“That you two are bloody hooking up!”

“What?!” Y/N and Jack exclaimed in unison, staring over at Joe in confusion.

“I think Joe’s lost it…” Conor mumbled.

“You think I’m cheating on you? With Jack?” Y/N gaped over at Joe.

“I wouldn’t ever do that you!” Jack protested.

“Well, why else would you two have been sneaking around so much?”

“Because we were trying to plan you a surprise party, you ass!” Y/N snapped, anger coursing through her body. “I can’t believe you thought I was cheating on you!”

“A surprise party?” Joe repeated weakly, glancing between Y/N and Jack.

“Yeah, Y/N wanted to do something special for your birthday,” Caspar added, standing from the couch, “So we’ve all been meeting up to plan it. But we couldn’t do it as a group, we all draw too much attention.”

“Each of us have been meeting up in pairs, trying to get it all figured out,” Josh continued, standing as well.

“Shit,” Joe muttered, wincing as he noticed Y/N’s harsh glare being sent in his direction. “I’m sorry?”

“Do you not trust me?”

“No! I mean, yes! I do. I do, Y/N. I just…I got paranoid.” Joe pleaded, stepping towards her, “I’m sorry.”

“You should be.” She replied, her face softening, “I cannot believe you thought I was cheating on you. With Jack.”

“Okay,” Jack pointed over at her, “That is the second time you’ve said my name like that. Am I really that bad?”

“Yes.” The boys all said at once, but the couple ignored him.

“I shouldn’t have ever thought that. It was stupid. I’m really sorry.” Joe told her, pulling her closer.

“I wouldn’t ever cheat on you, Joe,” Y/N told him, “I just wanted to do something nice for your birthday.”

“I can still act surprised if you want.”

“You better, I worked hard on this party.”

“I’m sorry, love.”

“You should be. But really, Jack?”


“I know,” Joe chuckled, “I mean, clearly you have better taste.”

“Exactly.” Y/N smiled up at him, reaching up to kiss him.

“This isn’t fair,” Jack mumbled.

“At least he didn’t punch you,” Conor offered, patting his brother on the shoulder. “That would have been my initial reaction.”

Hey kid, you know who else is a stone?  George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Theodore Roosevelt, and Abraham Lincoln, to name a few. I mean, those guys are freakish stone heads bulging out of the side of a mountain, and Americans devote a whole day to them!  And aren’t I way more important than any of those guys?

(Just a hint: The answer’s yes. Ahaha!)

And to answer your second question, isn’t it obvious? I keep answering questions cause you bonebags keep asking them!  Like, oh—oh man, take a look at this one:

Oh, geez, where do I begin? Eh, I’ll just name off a few of my favorites:

George Washington asked for a strong country where everyone was free to party. So I gave him political parties!  Poor George regretted those ‘til the day he died, haha, but not me! After all, what’s more chaotic than a good ol’ presidential debate?  

I…literally cannot think of a single more chaotic thing.  Seriously.

Thomas Jefferson called me in to get his vice president out of his hair—said that pesky old Aaron Burr was constantly messing around with his political business and stealing his left shoes.  Sure, I got the guy outta the picture, but at the cost of, like, Alexander Hamilton’s life (whoopsie!), heaps of judicial funds after the Burr guy was charged with conspiracy, and, well, most of Jefferson’s digestive health.

Stress ulcers…man, how do you mortals cope with those things?

Good ol’ Teddy Roosevelt rang me one day, said his progressive party efforts were dwindling and he was looking for “more attention on the Bull Moose.”  So I only did what he asked: Y’know, warp the vision of random blockheads on the street to see him as a literal bull moose passing by! Ha!

You can imagine how much that helped his approval rating when half his speech attendees saw him as a woodland creature. (Spoiler alert: It’s the only thing that kept him from winning that term! Haha! Poor guy.)

And last but not least, Abraham Lincoln came to me one day outta sheer boredom.  Guy said things were so dull that wasn’t even looking forward to the play at Ford’s Theatre he was on his way to see.  In the end, all he asked was that I make that night’s play one to remember!

…Well, we all know how that turned out!

In the end, they all got what they wanted, and so did I! Heck, I deserved to have a little fun with it, right? Y’know, for so graciously helping them out with their troubles!

Oh, did I mention in the end that I turned them all into stone?  Just for laughs! Literally no other reason! Hahah!

If you didn’t catch on, I’m talking Rushmore.  

That’s literally them.

One of America’s biggest tourist attractions is literally four tormented presidents enlarged and petrified in stone until the end of time.

…Man, aren’t you glad I’m still answering questions for you guys?

Your Move

The nine times Simon and Baz prank each other and the one time they don’t

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

March 23


We’re not supposed to have food in our rooms.  It’s one of Watford’s most ignored rules.  It’s never enforced, and if the rooms themselves have anything to say about it, they tend to keep their mouths shut.

           Nearly everyone I’ve talked to has some sort of stash in their wardrobe or under their bed.  Agatha loves her sherbet lemons, and Penny has a seemingly endless supply of licorice hidden in a locked cupboard.  Only she knows the whereabouts of the key, assuming she’s telling the truth and there is a key at all.  As for me, I keep at least two mint Aero bars tucked away at all times, though it seems no matter where I hide them, Baz always manages to find them.  Further evidence of vampiric senses, if you ask me.

           Baz is more of a bring-food-from-the-dining-hall-into-the-room kind of person than a secret stash person, at least I’ve never seen any evidence of a stash.  I have to wonder what sort of things Baz would keep hidden away.  Rats maybe, still alive to keep their blood warm for when he gets peckish.  But then again, I would probably have noticed something like that.

           I don’t know how he always manages to get food up to the room unnoticed, but I also know he’s on a first-name basis with Cook Pritchard, so maybe he gets special privileges.

           When he appears in the door this evening, tall and silent as ever, he’s holding a steaming mug of tea.  I don’t say anything about it, I know better at this point. He’ll just snap at me.

           He crosses the room and sets the mug down on his nightstand, dropping down to his bed and uncurling to his back.  I raise an eyebrow at him, stretched out like a cat. “What’s with you?” I muse.

           He throws a glance my way.  “What?”

           “I dunno, you’re just being… weird.”

           “Thank you for your opinion, Snow, it’s entirely uncalled for as usual.”

           I roll my eyes.  “Forget I said anything.”

           “I already have.”

           I turn back to my textbook with a scowl.  Serves me right for trying to start casual conversation, though maybe I was a bit rude about it.  At least I can say I tried.

           Baz lays there on his bed for another moment or so, staring up at the ceiling, breathing slowly and deeply like this is the first time he’s properly filled his lungs in weeks.  I glance at my watch.  I’m supposed to meet Penny in the library to study in half an hour, I don’t need to go just yet.

           When Baz stands, he takes a detour on his way to the bathroom to reach over and flip my book out of my hands.

           “What the hell is wrong with you?” I call after him, but he responds simply by slamming the door in my face.

           Classic Baz.  Simple, stupid, but effective.  Like a playground bully.

           I wonder if he gets any actual joy out of it.

           The heat of my anger is already fading, but it still frustrates me that he’s been getting away with this kind of abuse all our lives and nothing I do ever seems to deter him.  It’s like he’s a giant and I’m a pissed-off ant, biting and crawling and trying to hurt him, only to be flicked away by a giant indifferent finger.

           His mug on the bedside table catches my eye, steam still curling off the tea.  He hasn’t taken a sip yet, which is surprising.  Usually he drinks the stuff practically straight out of the kettle, like it isn’t scalding his entire throat on the way down.  Maybe it’s not, maybe that’s some obscure vampire thing. Or maybe he’s just a prat that wants to look tough.

           The lightbulb that goes off in my head is almost audible as I watch the steam dance above the mug.

           Grabbing my wand from the sheets beside me, I stand from my bed as quietly as I can and tiptoe across to Baz’s nightstand, wincing with every creak from the floorboards.  The tea is that perfect smooth colour, brown and soft with cream and sugar.  Sparing a fleeting glance at the bathroom door, I dip my wand down so that the tip just barely breaks the surface of the tea, sending ripples floating away from the intrusion.

           Needs more salt,” I murmur in as soft a voice as I can manage, pushing the crackle of magic from the base of my neck down through my wand arm and into the tea.

           “What was that, Snow?” Baz calls from the other side of the door.  There’s a sudden splash of the sink.

           “I didn’t say anything, twat,” I call back, carefully bringing my wand over my mouth and letting the stream of droplets fall onto my tongue.  It’s flowers and cream and… salt.  Definitely salt.

           I smirk as I return to my bed.  Mission accomplished.

           When Baz re-emerges, I pull my textbook closer so he can’t knock it away again.  I try to look appropriately engrossed.  He doesn’t pause at the door, just goes straight back to his bed, and though I can’t see his face in my periphery, it seems as though he doesn’t suspect anything.

           Needs more salt isn’t a proper spell, per say.  More of a charm.  Penny says that spells occur when the words play the biggest role.  They are usually well-known sayings or lyrics, things that carry a little bit of their own magic, which makes them the easiest for beginning mages to master.  Charms are different, harder to control.  The power of a charm doesn’t lie in the words but in the intent.  The magic comes entirely from the mage.  Often charms come out as accidents, when something is said with so much feeling that magic simply slips in.

           Penny is quite good at charms, at putting magic into whichever words she chooses.  She insists that anything can be a charm with enough magic.

           As Baz reaches for his tea, I can’t help but watch.

           I sure hope Penny is right.

           Baz raises the mug to his lips and takes the first sip.

           His features freeze like he isn’t quite sure how to arrange them.

           After a beat he lowers the cup and stares at it like it’s a puzzle, his brow beginning to furrow.

           He takes another thoughtful sip, and this time the tiny curl of his lip betrays a hint of disgust.

           I make sure to be staring back down at my book when he turns his gaze on me.  I feel it burn into the top of my head, and the burn spreads to my cheeks as I try not to crack.

           I can still feel his eyes on me as he takes a long, pointed drink from the mug.


           I glance back at my watch.  It’s still too early, but Penny will probably be in the library already, and I don’t know how long I can handle Baz’s stare.

           I close my book and stuff it in my bag, wearing what I hope is a neutral expression and not a beet-red blush.  I stand from my bed and slip into my shoes. I see him take another sip.  When I look at him, he’s still watching me, and his face is surprisingly clear for someone drinking salted tea out of spite.

           I’m not fully sure which one of us is the winner here.

           I’m halfway out the door when I decide to break the tension.

           “April Fool’s,” I state like it’s a simple good-bye before I shut the door.

           I’m two stairs down as he yells “IT’S NOT EVEN FUCKING APRIL YOU TWAT!”

More from the tea-loving history teacher

His room was always a complete disaster of old student projects and weird antiques. We’re talking paintings on the floor, a box of old hats, weird Egyptian-looking statues. I’m pretty sure Tut’s tomb was more organized than this guy.

I once asked him for one of my projects back after he had handed out everyone else’s. He pulled it out of a recycle bin at the far end of the room and explained that no, it was good work, that’s just where he keeps stuff.

Along with not owning spoons, he also never washed out his teapot. I’m pretty sure there were tea stains inside it older than I am. The whole class breathed a collective sigh of relief when he accidentially broke it and had to buy a new one.

He used to play us movies in our ancient civilizations class on an old VCR. Not sure how he managed to get 300 on VHS but hey, I was 14 and not gonna complain.

At one point our VP buzzes down to his room on the intercom in the middle of watching 300. Since his VCR looks like it was put together with parts from about 3 different VCRs, he understandably had trouble finding the pause button. The VP had to listen to a solid minute of fighting and shouting before he finally got it to stop. His excuse? “Sorry, we were just blowing up…….Korea.” No idea where he got that from but the VP then had to listen to a solid 3 minutes of our class dying of laughter.

We spent several periods in the ancient civilizations course playing RISK. Pretty sure everyone who finished that class ended up with a slight taste for world domination.

Did I mention he was my favourite?

Headcanon: Thor and Steve deliberately misuse popular idioms and sayings just to fuck with everyone.

Tony catches Thor drinking milk out of the carton and Thor just tells him, “Every dog has its silver lining.” Tony is so confused he doesn’t even remember to give Thor hell for not putting the milk back in the fridge.

Clint tries to keep up with Thor and Steve in the gym one day and ends up sweating and complaining loudly about superhumans, and Steve just kindly pats him on the shoulder and tells him, “You know what they say, a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.” and Clint spends the next week trying to figure out what the hell Steve meant by that.

Everyone is pretty convinced that they’re just hopeless old men who can’t even figure out popular phrases… except for Sam, who starts keeping a running score of who can spout off the most confusing phrases.

So far Steve is winning - when a fight broke out in the city the team assembled and asked where Thor was. Steve told them “He’s under the weather” and everyone was disappointed realizing they’d have a hell of a time fighting without him. A few minutes later Thor came flying in on a tornado and Steve was just like, “See I told you” while Natasha slapped herself in the face.

Can we talk about this scene? Okay, we all know this is a heartbreaking moment for everyone involved, but there is something that really stood out to me. The last thing Dean says to his mom is, “You’re home now,” which sets off the rest of the conversation. There is nearly four minutes after this where Mary continues to talk and then the episode ends, and Dean says absolutely nothing at all. Four minutes of no dialogue whatsoever on his part. Mary keeps explaining, leaving these long moments between sentences where she expects Dean to say something and he doesn’t, so she jumps in again and tries to explain more. When Sam finally interjects and asks what she means, it’s only after a quick look to Dean to realize he’s not going to do it. Even Sam is expecting him to say something, and he just doesn’t. This is so important to me. Can you recall a time in the series where Dean is in the shot for more than a few minutes and doesn’t say anything? Or a time when someone repeatedly trails off to let him respond and then he doesn’t? This is the first real time where we’ve seen Dean so thoroughly broken and upset that he physically doesn’t have words. He is rendered speechless. You can see it in the way he breathes, the way he audibly exhales in disbelief, the way he blinks in this quick progression as he processes what must feel like his heart being ripped out of his chest. He could beg his mom to stay. Plead with her. Tell her things will get better and everything will be okay. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t say anything at all. His mom waits for it. Sam waits for it (Sam, who knows him better than anyone else, waits for him to say something). And there’s nothing. No questions. No promises. No attempt to do anything at all to sway her decision. The last thing he says is, “You’re home now.”

things i wish people had told me when i was a freshman

so i’ve been thinking about this for a few days, and i wanted to make a list of some things that i wish people had told me when i was a freshman in college

  • don’t skip class.
  • really, don’t skip unless it’s absolutely necessary. i had a professor who didn’t tell us when the tests were going to be until the class before. go to class.
  • if you get lost, look around for an office and ask where to go - especially during the first few weeks, everyone is happy to help you figure things out.
  • buy a planner. keep it in your backpack 24/7. keep it out in class. professors change due dates and assignments constantly and you don’t want to forget things - two missed assignments can become four and suddenly you’re making a C in a class you need a 3.0 for. 
  • join organizations!!! join clubs or something that will keep your societal needs fulfilled and also look good on a resume. volunteer work too, work at events, and get friends to join you. it’s more fun than you might think.
  • also always have a binder with blank paper in it. always. 
  • keep your phone and computer chargers with you all the time because you will need them and you will use them.
  • no one will look at you funny for eating food in class (just don’t eat anything crunchy for the love of god)
  • don’t go out for food constantly - this is the fastest way you will spend money, and before you know it you’ve spent $400 on food in a month which is like. ridiculous.
  • keep to the right of the sidewalk, and don’t bunch up with your friends. you’ll understand in a semester or two. 
  • get your college email sent to ALL your devices. don’t know how? contact your school’s IT department.
  • that paper that’s due in a month? make an outline and collect resources now. it takes ten minutes and you will be super glad two days before it’s due when you haven’t started it yet. 
  • take time to go outside. take walks. eat a salad. 
  • go to bed before midnight. i promise, you won’t do it at first but you’ll thank me later. 
  • sometimes a good night’s sleep is better than an A on an assignment. get it presentable, sleep, and do better next time.
  • you can do this. it’s new and kinda scary and big, but you can do it, and you’ll be telling people what i’ve told you by this time next year.
Jackson Imagine - Precious

A/N - I’ve done a few jealous Jackson imagines in the past so if you want to read those too, feel free to check out the masterlist! I hope this one isn’t too repetitive in comparison to those others because I tried to give it a different feeling to them. Enjoy~

Can you do a scenario where you are Jackson’s girlfriend and you are kind of a fashionista like Bambam, so you two bond a lot through it, go shopping and to fashion shows together whenever he’s free, and everyone will always comment on how you two would be such a power couple and Jackson gets Jealous, but you reassure him that Bam is like your bff and nothing more than that and you only love him, please?! Thanks and keep up the amazing writing Xx

“Jagiya, where are you? I just went to your apartment but you’re not here,” Jackson asked you over the phone, his voice ringing with concern.
“Oh I must have forgotten to tell you that I’m out shopping with Bambam. We made plans since you said you were busy all day.”
“I was saying that so I could surprise you!”
“Sorry, Jackson~”
“When will you get back?”
“It depends how long it takes Bambam to decide if he wants a new jacket or not. Out of my control, babe. But feel free to get the spare key and let yourself in.”
“That boy better not take long. I want my girlfriend all to myself.”
“You know there’s no rushing a fashionista like Bambam.”
“True. But try not to be too long. I miss you.”
“It’s been like two days since we last saw each other you can’t miss me that much.”
“Well I do. I want to kiss your face.”
“Good to know. We should be home in about an hour’s time, okay?”
“Okay, I love you.”
“Love you too, Jackson.”

After a little while walking around some more shops with Bambam, you decided you should get home to see Jackson. From the phone call, you could tell he was feeling a bit jealous that you were with someone else and not him so thought it’d be best to keep him happy. Bambam was fine with leaving earlier than planned since you were the one giving him a free lift home. The shopping trip had been pretty successful and the both of you had bought some nice new additions to your wardrobes. Although Bambam had definitely bought far more than you, his excuse being “I’m an idol, I need to look good 24/7.” As you arrived home, Jackson practically had his nose pressed up against the window waiting for you. He answered the door within seconds and gave you a tight hug.
“I wasn’t gone that long, Jackson. You’re acting like we’ve not seen each other for months!” You teased, knowing how affectionate he got after only a few days apart.
“I know, but I still missed you. Besides, you’ve been with Bambam more than me recently.”
“Is someone jealous?”
“No! Not at all.”
“Then you’re fine with me hanging out with Bambam again tomorrow, right?”
“What? No, I mean, sure. Uh, whatever you want.”
“You are totally jealous, Jackson! Aw, bless you being jealous of your own band member.”
“It’s not my fault I get jealous, okay? The fans are always taking pictures of you two together saying how you’re such a power couple or that you would be great together and it gets to me because I really care about you and I don’t want to lose you to Bambam or anyone else.”
“Jackson, who cares what the fans say? They might think me and Bambam would be cute together but I don’t. Bam is just a friend and that’s it. You have absolutely nothing to worry about, okay? You’ll never lose me.”
“I promise. You’re too precious to me, Jackson so I could never leave you.”
“I love you a lot, (Y/N). I hope you know just how much.”
“I do know. And I love you too, Jackson.”

So there’s this tradition in Starfleet when a cadet graduates. 

When you step off the stage after accepting your degree, you’re supposed to slip your cadet dogtags off your neck and give them to the person who helped you graduate, who got you through it. 

Most, predictably, give it to their moms. Some, their dads, who served themselves. Usually, their significant others. 

Jim’s mom couldn’t make it. And well, everyone knows why his dad wasn’t there (a fact the admirals keep wanting him to cash in on–they even asked him to make a speech at graduation. Pike told them where to stick it.)

Anyway, they graduate the Bridge Crew of the Enterprise first–the ones who hadn’t. It’s mostly ceremonial recognition but Jim’s glad for it. He’s not usually nervous on stage–although large crowds have made him anxious since he was thirteen–but it’s hot and his ribs still burn and he’s so damn tired. He hasn’t slept since, well, before his hearing. And that was only a few weeks ago. Fuck.

But before it, he’s walking across the stage, shaking hands with the brass, and getting pinned–Captain’s pin–and smiling. Somehow, after everything, he’s smiling. 

Awkwardly, as he’s jogging down the steps, Starfleet uniform cap pinned at his side, hand scrabbling under his collar for the dogtags as he’s walking a few aisles away from his own seat. 

“Hey hot shot, your seat’s over there,” Bones tells him–but he’s grinning toward the place where Pike and the other Captains are waiting. 

“Bones-” Jim’s got a good grip on the chain even though he’s fucking hands are sweaty. 

Maybe it’s a stupid fucking idea. Bones didn’t give his tags to anyone. And why would he? Besides a little girl in Georgia, there was no one else. 

Before he can think too much about it, he tugs it off, holding it in front of him. 

“Aw, kid.” Bones whispers. 

And before Jim can about face or apologize or take back the sentimental gesture, Bones takes his fist out of his pocket, knuckles white, and loosens his grip, giving way to a palm indented by the punched out metal lettering: Leonard H. McCoy, Starfleet Cadet, ID: 116592213

“No one else I would have given them to.”

Somewhere, someone hoots–probably Cupcake, maybe Uhura and then Bones is pulling Jim closer, fingers lightly grazing his jaw, the back of his neck, gripping into his hair. 

The kiss is a surprise–Jim’s mouth is dry, his lips are chapped, but it feels so damn right and maybe Jim’s cheek flushes, and maybe Chris Pike laughs out loud but it’s worth it. Definitely worth it. 

anonymous asked:

I wish people could realize that the majority of US artists that are noticing BTS now are not doing it because they truly care about them but only because they get attention from armys that keep asking for collabs to EVERYONE (pretty annoying, if you ask me). They don't like them for real, they only like the popularity BTS have and want to use that. And honestly, BTS don't need to collab with anyone to get attention, they're doing pretty fine without it.

erh, I don’t agree with some of your points here but I do understand where you’re coming from. I for one think it’s also very annoying how some ARMYs mention just about anyone to collab with bangtan. I think to some degree it can be annoying to these other artists too. I get the intention but I hope ARMYs would know when to stop. Also, bangtan doesn’t do collabs for attention.

I don’t agree about your point wherein other artists only mentions bangtan for attention. that’s kind of a very arrogant attitude…? bangtan is popular but it’s not like ARMYs attention makes these US artists earn anything. “They don’t like them for real, they only like the popularity BTS have and want to use that.” Use what for what? It’s not like we’re buying these other artists albums or songs too or whatever hehe~ In fact, I think it’s nice of these artists to mention bangtan in one way or another. It’s just like a “hi! hello!” in cyberspace.

Also sometimes it’s also ARMYs who keep asking and mentioning them on twitter to say something about Bangtan that’s why they do it. So it’s nice of them if they do and we should just leave it at that~