half made up

in einen Abgrund ein, du dich verstrickst

The things it’s done to be a better fit
will make you want to match it stride for stride.
It won’t return the favor, not at all
to the thing it brought along for the ride
that it could discard you to take the fall.
Now you will do again what it has done;
burn bright, so bright, then extinguish the sun.

50 ways bellarke has said "I love you" (without saying I love you)
  1. “I need you.”
  2. “We need each other.”
  3. “Together.”
  4. “I trust you.”
  5. “You left me.”
  6. “I can’t lose you too.”
  7. “You won’t be by yourself.”
  8. “I’m sorry.”
  9. “Get some sleep.”
  10. “You’re forgiven.”

Keep reading

  • Drampa: He's a nice old Pokemon that loves children and will play with them as well as protect them
  • Cutiefly: If a person is happy or excited, they will gather around you because they have a colorful and wonderful aura ovo
  • Type Null: Spits in the face of god, science, and nature itself. A horrific attempt at humanity trying to replicate the powers of the divine, gone horribly wrong. All that remains left is a poor, misshapen creature sewn together by bits and pieces of other Pokemon and silently begs for death every time it breaths.

When I awoke today, suddenly nothing happened
But in my dreams, I slew the dragon
And down this beaten path, up this cobbled lane
I’m walking in my old footsteps, once again.

Dear Foxhole fandom,

I was thinking it would be pretty neat to have a fandom week? But, like would y'all be interested in it? I was thinking around the week of ~march 31st?

My mind is half made up to do it, but I want to know if there would be genuine interest in it from the fandom? It would be cool to get input on prompts and stuff.

Also, it would be awesome if during the fanweek we as a fandom get the foxhole court to trend and drag more people into the fandom.

Please let me know if you are interested! Thanks.

  • what she says: i'm fine
  • what she means: i should have told them i was sick last week, they're gonna think this is the way i sing, why is the pianist playing so loud? should i sing louder? i'll sing louder. maybe i should stop and start over. i'm gonna stop and start over. why is the director staring at his crotch? why is that man staring at my resume? don't stare at my resume i made up half of my resume look at me stop looking at that, look at me, no, not at my shoes don't look at my shoes i hate these fucking shoes why did i pick these shoes? why did i pick this song? why did i pick this career? why does this pianist hate me? if i don't get a callback i can go to crate and barrel with mom and buy a couch. not that i want to spend a day with mom but Jamie needs space to write since i'm obviously such a horrible, annoying distraction to him. what's he gonna be like when we have kids? and once again... why am i working so hard?these are the people who cast Russell Crowe in a musical jesus christ, i suck, i suck, i suck, i suck

I came across what I think was meant to be a throwaway observation in the Rogue One novelization:

Low-level defectors from the Empire weren’t uncommon. They made up half the Rebellion’s foot soldiers, give or take. (p. 18-19 of my ebook edition)

This is Cassian’s POV, drawn from his knowledge. Half the Rebellion’s ground troops. That’s not an insignificant amount. 

Bodhi wasn’t the first to defect, and Finn wasn’t the second. There were tens, hundreds, maybe thousands before them. All these people, who risked their lives and livelihoods to fight against a regime they knew was immoral. That’s pretty significant.

Does this get glossed over after the New Republic is established? Or do they acknowledge how much they owe to these defectors and their insider knowledge of Imperial procedures and systems? Do Kes and Shara tell Poe about these people, that freedom fighters can come from unexpected places? How can you just drop something like this into secondary source material and not expand on it?!

Elricest Week - Day 1: How do the brothers see each other?

Keep reading

I can have every word of hamilton and newsies and heathers and so many more musicals memorized but ask me about my school work and it’s a blank. What verbs are transitive and intransitive? Heck if I know but I do know that Cathy made up half of her resume and that Mozart was crazy.




      “Baby, are you almost ready?” Jaebum peeked around the corner of the bathroom, where you were just starting to apply your foundation. You turned, clearly half made-up, and he giggled softly. “I’m just out of things to do,” he smiled sheepishly and raked a hand through his hair.

           “Come sit in here with me,” you cooed, hoping he wouldn’t mind that your hair was pinned out of the way. “I’m bound to look kinda silly until I finish my makeup though.” He shook his head and sat down on the edge of the bathtub.

           “Y/N, you always look silly. It’s part of your charm,” he teased. “I’m sure the people at the theater wouldn’t care if you dressed in sweatpants.” JB paused. “Actually, I take that back. Go ahead and finish your makeup. I want you to dress up for this. Then we can be seen as the power couple I know we are.” His sweet words had you blushing, and you applied your concealer as you smiled to yourself.

     You’d finished your hair and makeup, and sauntered to your closet. You’d had two dresses specifically in mind, and you turned to your long-time boyfriend for his approval.

     “Babe, the red one or the black one?”

     “Uh, the red one.” Jaebum’s mouth curved into a smile as he came to stand behind you to look in the mirror.

     “That’s what I was thinking, you said, leaning back and giving him a quick peck on the lips. But I really like the black one, too.” You paused and held them up one last time. “My hair goes better with the red one,” you whispered to yourself.

     “And you look like, three thousand times hotter in the red one,” his hand slid from the small of your back to squeeze your ass, and you gasped and slapped him playfully.

     “Stop it, you,” you smirked, then flounced off to change.

     When you emerged, he let out a long, slow sigh, taking you in from the top of your done-up head down to your polished toes and bare feet. “I just have to put on my shoes, and then we can go,” you said to JB as he stared, open-mouthed.

     He seemed to regain his composure because he straightened his tie, and fiddled with the cufflinks on his suit jacket. You settled on a pair of black kitten heels even though it was supposed to snow, and threw on a cardigan as you and JB headed out the door. “You look beautiful, Y/N,” he breathed once you were in the car. He leaned in to kiss you, but you leaned away from him.

     “Listen, I just did my makeup, and it’d be cool if you could uh, not touch the artwork,” you teased, but leaned forward to peck him. “My lipstick is supposed to be transfer-proof,” you grinned. His mouth connected with yours and he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding out to greet yours. You pulled away and smiled. “Like I said, don’t touch the artwork.” He sighed and turned the key in the ignition.


      You walked into the theater, frozen and clutching JB’s arm, and almost instantly, you recognized the ball of energy that was Jackson, bouncing off the walls as he dragged his date around the hall with him, looking at a million different things and trying to contain his endless energy. He turned in your direction and pulled his exhausted-but-still-ecstatic-looking date behind him.

     “Ayyyyy, JB!” Jackson beamed and took in your attire. “Aish, Y/N, you look hot!” He nodded in approval and his date waited quietly to be introduced. “Ah, I almost forgot,” he said, taking her hand. “This is Aspen. Aspen, this is JB and Y/N. She’s the love of my life, to say the least.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and kissed her cheek softly, causing her to blush. His attention was pulled away by the glimmering Christmas tree in the corner, and he grabbed Aspen, towing her behind him.

     You turned to JB, his hand snaking into yours. “Ah, babe, your hands are so cold!” He took both your hands in his and blew on them, rubbing his hands around them to stimulate blood flow. You smiled and leaned close to him. “I love you,” you breathed on his neck. He peered down at you, wetting his lips before he leaned down. “I love you, baby.” His mouth met yours and you tousled a hand into his hair, deepening the kiss as his hands moved from your sides to the small of your back, pressing you against his chest. He smiled against your lips and leaned back against the wall, letting it support his weight. Your free hand slid from where it rested on his neck to his chest, finding his tie and pulling him forward so he was crushed to your lips.

     “Aish, get a room! The show is starting, we’re not gonna get a decent seat if you two don’t stop making out and focus!” Jackson broke through the heat between you two, causing you to jump away from each other. You and JB exchanged looks, blood rushing to both your faces. Later, his eyes said. You followed him into the theater, Jackson and Aspen in tow.

     The lights had gone down and the ballet had started; it was about two-thirds of the way over, from what you could tell. Jaebum’s hand drifted slowly over the armrest that separated his seat from yours, and settled into your lap. You turned your head to look at him, but he appeared to be as focused as ever on the story unfolding in front of him, so you took his hand in yours. You smiled at the familiar weight as he laced his fingers with yours. His thumb rubbed circles into the top of your hand for a few minutes, then made to let go of it, placing his palm directly on the bare skin just above your knee.

     You glanced at him again out of the corner of your eye, trying to keep your breath steady. He was smirking and had turned his head slightly to look at you. His hand slid up your thigh, traveling steadily over your skin. You could feel yourself starting to flush as his hand inched higher, nearly reaching the hem of your panties before it crept back down your thigh, only to make the circuit again. You inhaled sharply as his fingers nudged for your thighs to part, his hand slipping between them to feel the fabric of your lace panties. He leaned over, mouth falling on your right ear. “You wore my favorite ones,” he breathed, his lips moving down your neck as the couple behind you cleared their throats.

           He dropped a smirk back over his shoulder, but removed his hand from between your thighs and settled for your hand. He massaged circles into it with his thumb again, and his hand tightened on yours as you leaned over to whisper in his ear.

           “When we get home, you’re mine.”


           You peeked around the corner of your bedroom door, spotting your boyfriend lying spread-eagle in the middle of your bed. His bare skin gleamed in the light flooding from the lamp, slightly flushed from the anticipation of seeing what you had planned. You crept around the corner, wincing when a squeaking floorboard gave away your position.

           JB’s head snapped up and his jaw dropped as you entered the bedroom in your fur-trimmed santa teddy, complete with a hat and a translucent red thong. You smiled sheepishly as he opened his arms. “Bring that beautiful ass here, ma.” He laughed in spite of himself and you obliged, his hands slipping up your thighs to rest on your sides. His mouth glued itself to yours and he pulled you down so you were straddling him. You squeaked because of the sudden movement, and he smiled against your lips. “That was cute,” he breathed. His mouth trailed over your neck and down your chest, pulling the teddy off you and rolling so you were pinned underneath him.

           “You’re mine,” he breathed.

           “I’m yours,” you nodded.

Its hard to take a half decent selfie when you have a weird smile and are so white, natural light makes you impossible to see.