hell is over. i hated drawing this

@ironicallytrash21‘s prize from the giveaway! I’m finally done!

Their first place prize was a finished drawing of modern Lafayette drinking starbucks in one of Hercules’ hoodies. Congrats again, and sorry for the wait!


What a nice thing to wake up to. Stay classy, Anon.

07. Call Me Kookie - Jeon JungKook Fanficiton

AN*  So I ran across this “Bed Sharing AU” prompt list with 8 prompts and thought it’d be a great exercise to explore writing fanfics again. This is the 7th in a series of oneshots(links to others listed below). I’m using all 8 prompts with different members.  8 prompts, 7 members… the 8th will be a surprise.

A special thanks to BTS… for giving me inspiration and re-igniting my passion to write again. (Gif credit to original poster.)

01. Kim NamJoon - Must Have Energy

02. Kim SeokJin - Mama Mo’s,  

03. Min Yoongi - You’re Mine

04. Jung HoSeok - My Hope

05. Park Jimin - Awkwardly Perfect

06. Kim TaeHyung - The BPP

08. BTS - Hawaiian Thunderstorm

Originally posted by roselstra

Call Me Kookie

Prompt: We fell asleep on the couch together on accident, how did my hand end up in your hair? Were you breathing on my neck?! (Why did I get tingly???????)

Pairing: Jeon JungKook x Reader *Bonus Epilogue by Yoongi* 

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut-lite,

Word Count: 5.4K

Why the hell did you have to be here!? Jeon JungKook sat on the couch, trying to focus on the game.  It wasn’t working. 

“Damn it…” he muttered under his breath as he died… again.

“Geez man, what’s gotten into you?  I never beat you…”  Jimin said laughing.  JungKook didn’t answer, and simply waited for his character to respawn.  Out of the corner of his eye he had seen you sitting at the dining table with NamJoon, playing a card game… and laughing… and touching his arm.  JungKook turned back to the T.V., his tongue pressing into his cheek.

This was supposed to be a guys’ night…  Then you and your friend had shown up…  He didn’t even know your friend’s name… 

He didn’t care…

Where was your friend anyway?  Oh wait… Hobi had disappeared too….  Damn it. JungKook pursed his lips and tried to focus as his character returned and he started playing with Jimin again.  He wasn’t going to lose this time. 

He was getting into the game now… really concentrating.  He’d gotten in a few good shots and was about to attack when he heard your laugh.  It practically sparkled across his vision and his heart stopped. 

And so did the game. 

“I’m on a roll tonight!” Jimin said laughing and hitting JungKook’s leg from where he sat on the floor, back to the couch.  JungKook looked down at Jimin, hoping to come across as though he didn’t care. The smirk on Jimin’s face told him he hadn’t succeeded.

“He’s preoccupied…” Yoongi said in a low voice from his perch on the loveseat. JungKook glared at him, but Yoongi just smirked and raised an eyebrow.  JungKook looked back down at Jimin. 

“Nice one,” he said, trying to be a good sport.  He hated being a good sport.  He hated losing.  And why was he losing!?  He glanced over at you again, sitting with NamJoon, deep in conversation.  Apparently you had abandoned the card game.  You were both smiling and NamJoon reached up to wipe something, probably non-existent, off your face.  He tossed the controller onto the floor and looked back at Jimin, whose head was just turning back from watching you and Joonie as well.  Damn it. 

“Maybe we should play something else?” Jimin said, a smirk on his face.  He knew. The little bastard knew!  Well, JungKook wasn’t going to admit to anything.

“That would be my suggestion,” Yoongi interjected.  “I’m getting bored…” 

“Whatever,” JungKook agreed.

“Your mind doesn’t seem to be on the game, JungKook…” Jimin nudged his knee again. “Anything I or…” he nodded in your direction, “…can help you with?”  He smirked and wiggled his eyebrows.  Holding back his anger, JungKook rolled his eyes and sank back against the couch. 

Keep reading

For Your Love || Jeff Atkins x Asexual!Reader

I’m glad you asked, because I’ve seen a few imagines with asexual readers and I noticed a repeat of something that really bothered me. Always by the end, they were magically cured by ‘the one’. Like, no. If that’s someone’s sexual orientation, or lack thereof, they’re not going to change it for one person. If people truly desire our asexual cupcakes, they’re not going to constantly be trying to convert them.

Word Count: 1,174

Warnings: Mild Bullying, Sexual Dialogues


    You had thought your relationship was going well. Marcus Cole, straight-A student and President of the Honor Board, was what most would consider a perfect gentleman. He would hold open doors for you, carry around your bags; basically, treat you like you always thought guys should treat their girlfriends. But it was on the night of the back-to-school Winter Formal that you saw him for who he truly was.

    The two of you had just taken a break from dancing to go grab some punch. Upon hearing from Montgomery that it’d been spiked, you stuck to grabbing a soda, watching Marcus pick through the large platters of snacks with a frown.

    “Hey, do you want to get out of here?” he asked, nodding towards the door. “We could go back to my place and hang.”

    “Are you not having a good time?“ you responded.

    He shot you that that sly smirk, never failing to melt your heart. "I just thought maybe we could have a little bit more if we were alone.”

    The smile that had begun to itch across your face faded quickly, replaced by a concern that furrowed your brows and forced you to cast your eyes downward. “Can’t we stay longer? I wanted to ask Tony if he could get some slow songs playing.”

    You felt Marcus’s hands slide around your hips, drawing you against his chest—what might have been comforting under normal circumstances, but now it just served to make your stomach twist with nerves. “Come on, Y/N. You know you can trust me.” He leaned down, teeth nipping at your ear. “I’ll be gentle.”

    You shoved your hands against his chest, scrambling backwards a few feet. “Wait! I really need to tell you something.”

    “What?” he asked, sounding, and looking, pretty offended.

    “I’m asexual,” you said quickly. “It’s not like I don’t like you, I really do. It’s just… I don’t enjoy sex like that.”

    He seemed taken aback for a moment, before finally clearing his throat to speak. “So you don’t think we’d be having sex any time in the nearby future?”

    “I’d rather if we didn’t,” you replied, feeling as if your chest was rattling with broken glass. “We could still have a good relationship together.”

    “Look, Y/N,” he began. “You’re a gorgeous girl. I mean, every guy in this school wants you, and plenty hate me for being the one you chose. I just don’t think you’re ever going to find someone who’ll keep you if you keep holding out like this.”

    You stared at him in shock. “Wh-what?”

    He patted your shoulder, shaking his head sadly. “This just isn’t going to work out between us. When you get over this phase, or whatever this is, call me, okay?”

    “What the hell, Marcus?” you asked, voice raising. “Did you only start dating me to get in my pants?”

    Heads had turned from the crowd, people poking other people in the sides to draw their attention over. Marcus had turned a light red, glaring down at you for calling him out in front of everyone.

    “Like you didn’t start dating me just to get brownie points towards your school record,” he snapped.

    “I started dating you because I thought you were the one person who would understand that there are more important things than sex!” you cried.

    “You’re just a prude freak,” he replied, his voice breaking with anger.

    A few of his friends, who had grouped together near the front of the crowd, snickered quietly. One punched Marcus on the shoulder, telling him to let it go. Another claiming that he had something that could open up those legs.

    You felt tears stinging at the corners of your eyes, their words squeezing around your neck like a tightly knotted rope. You tore through them, racing out of the gym and down the hall. You didn’t stop until you had pushed open the door to the girls’ bathroom and collapsed against the wall, knees drawn to your chest and wetness streaming down your cheeks.

    To think you had once told yourself you loved him.

    Barely a few minutes had dragged by when you heard the door creak open. You looked up, surprised to see the tall, broad figure of Jeff Atkins slipping inside. His hair was moused into a swoopy, black wave, white tuxedo crisp and perfectly tailored.

    “Can I come in?” he asked.

    You shrugged. “I guess. If you want to hang out with a prude freak.”

    “Fuck Marcus,” he said. “You’re not prude, and you’re definitely not a freak. Last time I checked, you were just Y/N, and that’s fine with me.”

    He moved to sit down next to you. At closer glance, you could see he had replaced his normal white studs with a pair of snowflakes. You laughed, making him turn his head to smile at you.

    “What’s up with the earrings?” you asked.

    “I’m being festive,” he replied, motioning at the matching pattern on the hem of your dress. “And twinning with you, apparently.”

    “Looks like fate wanted us to meet each other in this bathroom,” you said with a soft sigh. “You don’t have to waste your night with me, you know.”

    “Assuming that any of my time spent with you is wasted.” He placed his hand over yours, bringing it into his lap. “My night is already ten times better.”

    You brushed away a stray tear, trying to pull away. “We won’t work out. It never does.”

    “Why?” he asked, tightening his grip. “You’re an asexual. So what? That’s not something that matters to me.”

    “You say that now, but imagine if we somehow managed to make it out of high school. Years from now. I’m not opposed to the idea of sex some time in a long term relationship, but I’m not going to be able to be sexually attracted to you. Are you willing to live your life like that?” you responded.

    You could tell by the expression on his face that he was seriously considering this. You were just bracing yourself for him to stand up and walk out when he gave a nod.


    “Jeff, are you sure?” You turned to face him, sitting back on your heels. “This isn’t a joke.”

    He nodded again. “Yes. I am one hundred percent positive. I’m not sure if this is a little too early or not, but I think I’m in love with you.”

    You laughed. “What?”

    “No, I’m serious,” he replied, lunging forwards to scoop you into his arms. He pulled you in for a hug, resting his head on your shoulder in a maternal kind of way. “I was pissed when you started dating Marcus. Ask Clay. He’s the one who watched me purposely tear book pages every time I had to turn them.”

    You felt yourself relaxing against him. “Wow, okay.  That’s certainly something.”

    He gave a low chuckle. “Do you want to go back to the dance?”

    “Yeah,” you whispered.

    For once, you had a feeling your relationship actually was going to work out.

when you... hear him say i love you for the first time

pairing: tom holland x reader
request: yes! @randomdancer17
warnings: cursing, mentions of sex


it’s a lazy sunday afternoon. for you anyway. midterm exams had been hell, but now you’re basking in the sweet afterglow of morning after AND morning sex. the sheets are piled around your waist, hiding the ruffled panties you had slipped back on before you fallen asleep and tom had left. you had one of tom’s shirts thrown on too, an older one that was lying in the laundry basket of what you hope was clean laundry.

you were lying in tom’s ridiculously huge bed. tom was… somewhere. he was promoting one of his movies while here in the states. it was good he’s been here on business the last few weeks, with him working and you diving nose first into studying, test, and textbooks, it felt nice to not have that stress of entertaining each other.

lately all the time you had for each other was quick texts and quicker lunches via video chat. you hate to say you missed the little bugger. maybe that’s why last night was so great. you hum at the memory, burrowing deeper in the sheets.

you had gone out for a late lunch. you, tom, and believe it or not because you still couldn’t, robert downey jr. you had met them after a series of interviews. tom had kissed your cheek and asked about the drive, two hours was nothing really. robert himself kissed your cheek and asked why you stayed with this goobert if not for the fame and fortune.

(“is he paying your college fees? because honey, you can do better. he’s just starting out. now chris on the other hand-”)

and that turned into a dinner with the casts themselves. your heart couldn’t take the amount of gorgeous people in one room. and when you told tom such, he laughed.

and then snuck you out. as much as you’d love to get know the actors behind your childhood heroes, the candle lit dinner in the middle of the city’s gardens was just as good. he even pulled out your chair.

you stomach still flips when you think of it after nearly twelve hours. but the absolute best part? even in the face of grandeur, because this was no doubt expensive, the only thing you could focus on was tom. he was in ratted jeans for god’s sake, eating lamb. his hoodie has holes cut in the thumbs and his hair was racked from his hands coming through it all day. he slouched tiredly in the chair in front of you. you weren’t any better really. you wore a nice dress, only because you didn’t have any pants clean.

in that face of this beautifully set table and gardens, neither of you looked your best. it was just dinner with your best friend. you talked about school and work and his recent travels and his parents and his brother’s newest crush. the sex was even a mess.

“so… sex? not if you don’t want, too! but. you look really good today, as always , and i miss you, and-”

“oh god, yes. exams were stressful. let’s have destressing sex.”

“oh thank god.”

it was so perfect.

and now, as you lay in tom’s bed snuggling tom’s sheets you couldn’t be more happy. your phone buzzing disturbs your hazy thoughts. you peak out from the blankets to see your phone light up again.

‘don’t freak out!!!????’

your eyes narrow at both the brightness and tom’s words. you’re throwing on tom’s sweats before you realize it and walking into the kitchen. you want to reply, but lord knows he’s probably in another interview already. you decide to let it be. there’s coffee already made, bless his heart, and you pour a cup. you’re flicking through channels when you find tom and the cast on a morning talk show, pre recorded.

he’s a bit red in the face and smiling nervously. anthony mackie is behind him, right beside robert. pour soul. they’re probably embarrassing him. you smirk and turn the volume up.

“-the paparazzi saw last night?”

tom shifted nervously, “i have no idea what you mean.”

the blonde lady scoffs good naturely, “oh please! the pretty girl that was at the gardens?”

his face gets more red. you sip your coffee as he deflects the question again before she moves on. it’s nearing the end when tom has forgotten all about it and is in full story mode, with mackie breaking in with a comment, and chris evans with a laugh and the boob pat.

“-and anyways, my girl is just watching from my phone and she’s got one hell of an attitude when she’s done with my crap, but my buddy harrison is like, dying and half the set is like,” his voice takes an octave higher, “is he okay, get him an ice pack! and the other half is laughing their arses off.”

“and 'your girl’?” the interviewer slyly asks.

“oh she’s over it. she’s had exams the past few weeks and she’s just done. even through the screen i can feel that she hated me for like a second-”

“regrets ever saying yes to that first date-” sebastian draws out.

“oh! but i’m glad she did.” tom gushes, much to the amusement of everyone’ “i don’t know what i’d do with out her now. i’m absolutely in love with that girl.”

you’re smiling sweetly as the interview finishes. it’s only after you’ve finished your coffee and drawing a giant bath and sipping tea when you realize what that text meant.

'don’t freak out!!!????’

the cup of tea slips from you hands and into the running bath water.

“i’m absolutely in love with that girl.”

you phone buzzes.

'you’re freaking out, i can feel it!!!!’

How to Deal with Demons-A Guide

As a witch who is bonded with a psychic, along my journey I have found out quite a lot about demons. Heres some information:

NEVER say a demons name out loud. it directly summons them to you, and it gives them power.

Demon oppression and possession are two completely different things, though they likely happen within the same sequence. Oppression is where they impact your mental and physical health. This happens at any given time, and will result in a completely different mood, headaches, sickness etc. Possession is where they have full control of your body, or someone else’s body. That person may “act right” and act like themselves, however that is the demon playing you as a fool. They stalk you before they possess you, learning every single tiny behavior and can mimic you perfectly. I learned that when a demon possessed my mom for two weeks. That was not particularly pleasant. Demons get a kick out of you knowing that they are there, the whole demonic behavior thing that you can see (speaking in tounges, violence, extreme hatred, etc.) is the times that they WANT you to know that you are there,

Don’t talk to the demon directly. Even if you fell it standing right behind you, don’t acknowledge it unless you are going to take defensive action.

Defensive Action-these are things that I use regularly in my practice. These can be adapted for most anyone who is struggling with demonic influence.

Holy water is life. Don’t make it yourself, unless you are a ordained Catholic priest. Get a lot, and put it everywhere. Whenever you feel them trying to invade or opress you, throw that shit all over you, drink it even! Here are some creative things that I have done:

     Holy water humidifiers

     Holy water squirt guns

     Holy water water balloons

     Holy water + purified salt shots for those who may be possessed (don’t do this too much kids, kidney failure does not sound fun

     Bake that shit into everything you eat. Smoothies, soups, stir fries, make rice and oatmeal, cookies, seriously whatever the hell you eat, put that shit in.

    Anoint candles with holy water and salt and burn them in your home.

    Draw protective sigils with holy water on your walls

Salt- pretty much life too. Demons hate this shit.  Here’s how you can use it

    Bake that shit into food.

    I have different banishing and burning powders that i have made that i store in jars with protective sigils on them.

               Burn in Hell powder- salt, black pepper, holy water (just a smidgen, and finally…. Cayenne pepper! You grind that shit up with your mortar and pestle, then you add a couple drops of holy water and have intent to burn the fuck out of demons. As you grind that, here is a quick chant to help keep your intent strong, “burns like fire, hurts like hell, demonic presence feel the power of my spell.

               Spirit Be Gone- salt, and pretty much every single protective herb that you have. First, grind that shit with your mortar and pestle, then draw protective sigils on bay leaves and burn them. Put the ash in, and grind it even more. “Negative energy, feel my bane, i banish you now, your power is in vain”. I use it for casting itty bitty circles whenever bed energy is around, and if you are a psychic, this really helps dispel negative spirits that love to talk/mess with you. It stops the headaches and such.

  Salt cont.

  do protective spells with that shit.

  Use salt baths and make your own bodyscrubs to rid you of negative energy.

 Salt the windows, doors, and floors of your home.

Make bracelets using a 9 knot chant, and annoint them with holy water, salt, and one drop of your blood. pass it through willow, sage, and pine smoke. It usually works to keep demonic entities out of your head, however if they are plaguing you physically, then untie a knot, starting with the last knot you did, and your energy will dispel and weaken them.

Protective stones work really well. keep them near and around you.

Defensive Strategies (please be aware that this will either work, or you wont be strong enough to complete the spell. If you can’t this demon or multiple demon will come AFTER YOU. Know for real how strong the demon is, get a psychic to figure this out. Hierarchy will not be too pleased with you if you try to put them in a jar. Make sure you are a very experienced mage/witch, or have one with you. The first night that I bound a demon, my ritual was interrupted, and that bastard took a leap out of my jar and almost choked me to death in front of my parents. Be EXTREMELY careful, and do this in the presence of another. If you need to do this, please send me a ask, and I will try to help you as much as I can. This spell works to capture a demon who is possessing a human.

You will Need:


a jar/vessel that you have enchanted to protect and bind a spirit

both of the salt mixes


ashes (a lot). Add ashes from sigils of banishing if possible

enough candles to make a large circle for you to work in

enough candles for you to seal the vessel

hair from the victim

banishing herbs

stones of protection

stones for power of you


holy water

lavender, rosemary, basil, bay

1. Cast a really strong circle. use rocks and candles placed at equidistant intervals to make it strong. line that circle with salt, burning powder, and banishing powder.

2. Call upon guides, angels, friendly spirits, familiars, etc. Ask them to observe and lend you strength and support.

3. Start by anointing the candle with holy water, salt, and banishing herbs. Intensify your own intent to purify and banish.

4. Light the candle in your circle (all of the other ones should be lit by now, with the formation of your circle) and prepare the hair.

5, Call upon the demon in mention “Demon, thou who hast been plaguing ___, i call you and summon you to this circle. Once you know that it is there, burn the hair and chant, “Christo, this is Gods land” over and over. Pour intent and strength into the words. this is dissolving the bond between the victim and the demon, isolating the demon.

6. Throw the hair into the jar (still chanting) and pour in ashes, protective herbs, marigolds. and pour the rest of the holy water in there. Cap the jar and shake that bitch. Keep chanting.

7. Seal the jar, with wax, ribbons, etc. when the wax is cooling, throw more powder, salt, and herbs on the jar. once, it is sealed, do not touch the jar. Thank the spirits that you have summoned, and say something to the jar like, “In the name of the holy Christ, I therefore bind and banish you satanic spirit, may you never plague the living again.”

8. DO NOT KEEP THE JAR I REPEAT DO NOT KEEP THE JAR. Bury that mother fucker far away from civilization, just get a psychic or clairvoyant to check if you did it right. Do not open the jar for goodness sake, that bastard will be pissed. just get the jar the hell away from you.

I hoped this helped you guys! Feel free to pm or ask me if you have any questions or need help!

anonymous asked:

genderbends are transphobic

It’s more transphobic to scare people out of drawing trans people, trying to make people stop drawing Damien is wrong and just gross. You’ll make people fear to bring up Damien, in fear of getting hate or backlash. You are the problem, how are trans people supposed to be taken as an equal when they can’t simply be drawn in a different way? You are making it so people will fear drawing trans people or mention them, you are erasing trans people from media and that’s just problematic. You are suggesting I shouldn’t have drawn Damien in the first place with the others, which is more transphobic to not add Damien with the rest of the dads. 

gender bending isn’t transphobic, It’s the idea in another alternate universe where the genders and sexes were swapped. It’s a hypothetical idea, Damien is still trans as genderbent, but instead from female to male, their male to female now, still trans, still not transphobic. To be transphobic you gotta dislike or have an negative feelings against trans people, which I personally have no hate or dislike towards them. Why get mad over drawings? go get mad over the fact trans people are dying all the time, being mistreated and not accepted. Yet your here trying to say pictures are the problem, fan art is a transphobic problem. Hell no, go help ACTUAL REAL LIFE TRANS PEOPLE, get mad over the real problems for trans rights.

Also we keep saying gender is a fluid thing yet you get mad anytime someone genderbends something, what happened to gender not mattering? What happened to not caring what gender someone is? I don’t care what anyone’s gender is, I don’t care if someone dresses up as the other gender for fun like cosplay, drag, etc, I don’t care what gender someone prefers and I don’t care if someone doesn’t have a gender at all. We are all equal. I’m not genderbending to make fun of Damien, not to show he should stay a girl, not to push any hate or disgust to him. I just drew Damien in an alternate universe where he was a male to female trans instead. You are literally the one trying to make people dislike Damien by doing this shit, and that’s just the worse cause Damien is an amazing character and shouldn’t be used to push your own propaganda.

Here’s some trans people in the comments saying how they don’t consider genderbending transphobic, and their the real deal. Their comments should mean the most seeing how they area actually trans. I’m sorry for the blow out but I really just needed to point out how problematic saying “genderbending is transphobic” Anyway all that aside I hope you all are having a good day, and to my trans lovelys, keep being you ^^

Defense Mechanism

Summary: Everyone deals with life in their own way, sometimes you’re smiling through the pain, other times you’re an ass. Park Jimin is far better at the latter.

This is for the request that my lovesly @g-d0818 sent in to me so long ago!!




Part Two

Jimin couldn’t help but stare at you as you practiced up on stage; it wasn’t because you were beautiful–you were average, flawed–and it wasn’t because you had amazing talent–he’d often told you that you were talentless–and it definitely wasn’t because he thought you were worthy of attending the same prestigious university for the arts as him. Rather, Jimin stared at you because he was an artist who strove for perfection and you had a run in your tights.

How the hell was he supposed to sketch what was happening on stage if the subject matter itself wasn’t already perfect?

He was an artist, someone who strived for perfect technical abilities–someone who never once created something that wasn’t admired by all professors and students for its formal qualities, even if few (practically everyone) thought that his subject matter was boring and lacked originality/ purpose. So, when looking at you, the OCD running through his brain could only focus on that stupid run in your tights, and now he was noticing even more things about you that he hated. It always started like this, he would be doing something and you would be loud even if you never spoke–you would walk into a room and he would feel the compelling desire to point out all your faults. You irritated him in a way that he didn’t know was possible.

He ran his pencil across the paper, one of the few from his advanced III painting class that had decided to go to the auditorium during the interpretive dance class in order to sketch out poses and ideas for compositions and models. Once again he was distracted by your lack of care–you weren’t even wearing shoes and now your tight-clad feet were blackened because of it. He hated those tights. So much. You would have to toss them, though he knew you wouldn’t. You had once told him that it seemed pointless to get rid of something for one small flaw, as if he was a monster for suggesting that you better yourself and your appearance. You’re a dancer, how could you be so careless? How are you supposed to create a work of art without an already perfect canvas?

Keep reading



I can not stress enough how disrespectful this is.

I didn’t even write it and I’m embarrassed that someone in our fandom did this.

I get it, Yuzuru is an adorable cinnamon roll and to the yoi fans, like a real life yuuri. But he’s NOT Yuuri. The similarities stop at being a japanese skater and having a plush tissue box (seriously that’s it).

Yuzuru is a FOUR TIME GOLD MEDALIST, and just won gold again. He’s a clean, professional skater, and while i love Yuuri, comparing Yuzuru to Yuuri who, while being a great skater, placed last at the last gpf, and may possibly not win this one, is wrong and disrespectful. You might as well be comparing Yuuri to Victor when it comes to skating talent, and we all know Victor is ten times better.

Fans of Yuzuru are lashing out at the yoi fanbase because of this, and i cant apologize enough to them because someone in our fandom thought this was a good idea.

Thanks to the idiot who did this, because now the real skating fan community hates us. 😰😤😠😡.

Please, go watch Yuzuru skate, and you will understand why it is important that you dont compare the two. As a hardcore yoi fan myself, i found that disturbing.

I hope our fandom doesn’t start doing that to other skaters. 😓i get how fans like yuzuru bc of yoi, hell i found an interest in iceskating period bc of the show, and the show did draw my eye to him, but they’re not the same.

God why cant ppl just like both without having to do this?

-Rant over

Edit: i see that the page is back to normal thank goodness. As for ppl saying that I’m overreacting, am i really? I follow many of Yuzuru’s pages and all of them expressed nothing but hate not only towards the person responsible, but the yoi fanbase as a whole, and even the show itself. “Yoi is disgusting leave yuzuru alone” “i hate that show for doing this to Yuzuru” “anime fans have gone too far” “i knew that these two communities could not mix”….i have a screencap of someone saying that last one and it hurts my heart so badly because yuri on ice is such a flawless piece of work and so far we’ve done nothing but love eachothers communities. But they feel like yoi fans are being rude, disrespectful, and going too far because of this and that upsets me because the community we should be respecting the most is the real life community, the one with real ppl, not the one with imaginary ppl, no matter if we love one more than the other. I’d like the yoi community to keep good face as a welcoming community that’s respectful. If you dont see whats wrong here, you’re part of the problem.

Pumping out comics when I hate how I draw. I should do this more often.

THIS IS MY IN-UNIVERSE REASONING for drawing Stormcatcher as a humanoid all the time. (The other reason is that I think he’s really cute and I refuse to let this game make me self-identify as a dragonfucker.)

Hell yeah, I ship the smart kids. They live in neighboring lands, so I like to think it’s routine for one to invite the other over to chat about some new discovery.

[ Imagine #26 ] Insecurities ~ Newt AU

Fandom: The Maze Runner

Pairing: Newt x reader

Word count: 1200 words

A/N: Enjoy reading! Requests are always open^^

A/N: Italics mean flashback



You’ve never been one to be particularly confident with your body, but it had always been enough to wear shorts or a bikini in summer, without feeling too uncomfortable.

But lately, it had reached a point where you refused to wear clothes too revealing for your likings, such as dresses, shorts, and crop tops. Simply because you didn’t feel good enough in your body anymore to wear these, even though it hadn’t been a problem half a year ago.

Your best friend, Sonya, had watched this with concern, especially since you even wore long pants when others wore as little as possible due to great heat.

Two days ago you had been in the mall with her, shopping.


“Come on, Y/N, we have a lot of money to spend!” Sonya was beyond excited, it had been months since the last time you were together in the mall, and shopping was one of her biggest hobbies.

She dragged you through the shop, occasionally picking up clothes until she had a huge pile of shirts and pants and a few dresses in her arms.

Suddenly her eyes lit up and she tried to wiggle one of her hands out of the mess in her arms and pointed at the wall behind you. “Y/N, that’s perfect for you! Look!”

You turned around. At the wall hung different clothing articles, some oversized hoodies and flannels, and shirts with different imprints.

“The flannels? Yeah, they look nice. I think i gonna try one on.”

You could practically hear Sonya rolling her eyes. “Not the flannels, dumbass. I meant the shirts. You hid your body long enough in those terrible baggy flannels, it’s time for something that actually looks good on you!”

Sonya ignored my protests, took one of the shirts and then made her way towards the changing room. You sighed, grabbed a flannel and followed your over-enthusiastic friend.

You were skeptic. Sonya had forced you to at least try the shirt on, and you actually liked it, the only problem was… it was too short.

Yes, it covered everything, but you couldn’t even raise your arms without the shirt riding up and exposing half of your stomach. This certainly didn’t sound like a big deal for most people, but for you it was.

“Y/N! This looks absolutely fantastic on you. You should definitely buy it!”

You tugged at the hem of the shirt. “You’re sure? It isn’t too short?”

“Too short? Are you kidding? Something like ‘too short’ doesn’t exist!”

“In your case maybe. But not for me.”

“Hey. You look great. Believe me. I would never talk you into buying something that looks not good on you,”

Sonya hugged you quickly, “also, i’m sure Newt likes to see a bit more of you.”

You giggled and felt your cheeks heating up. “Oh shut up.”

Sonya smirked at you trough the mirror.“Y/N, if you want to date my brother, then you have to live with this comments.”

“Alright alright, how about you hurry up to pick some clothes and then we get something to eat?”


When you woke up the next day, you quickly made some breakfast and then got dressed, knowing Newt would be there soon to pick you up for school.

Eventually, Sonya had convinced you to buy the shirt, and you had actually felt pretty and attractive and comfortable with your body and had looked forward to wearing it the next day.

But this positive feeling vanished completely when you examined your reflection in the mirror.

You didn’t see the confident and happy girl from yesterday, but the complete opposite.

You stared at the mirror when tears began to brim in your eyes, and you slowly sank down on the edge of the bed, burying your face in your hands.

What is wrong with me?

Suddenly you heard someone knocking rather loud on your bedroom door.

“Y/N? Are you in there? Is everything alright?”


You shot up, frantically rubbing your palms over your cheeks to let you tear-stained face appear normal and quickly answered with a wavering voice: “Newt?”

“Can i come in?”

“Wait!” You desperately tried to get out of the shirt and simultaneously attempted to remove the smudged mascara from your cheeks as fast as possible.

You don’t want him to see you like this.

But your hectic movements only caused you to get stuck in the shirt and finally, you just sank down on the floor, letting out a defeated sob.

Newt seemed to lose his patience out there because he knocked even louder. “ Y/N, i’m coming in now!”

Your boyfriend opened the door, and you could hear him drawing a sharp breath before he rushed over and dropped down on his knees next to you.

“Bloody hell, Y/N, what happened? Are you hurt?”

You managed to shake your head before Newt helped you to sit up against your bed.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m fat, that’s what wrong! I can’t even wear a simple shirt without looking horrible!”

“You’re fat? Who the hell did you tell you this shit?”

You looked down on your crossed arms that clutched your stomach, the stomach you hated so much.

“I don’t need anyone who’d tell me ‘this shit’, a look in the mirror is enough. I mean, look at my thighs or my stomach. I’m just plain fat! I can’t even wear a top or shorts without feeling bad about myself. Why am i like this?”

Newt didn’t answer, so you just continued, even though you’ve never wanted him to know how pathetic you were.

“And you know what? You aren’t really helpful either. Every time i see you, you’re just being … perfect, but when i look at all your ex-girlfriends, i have honestly no idea why you’re still with me. Because they are perfect too, tall, skinny, beautiful and i’m just - i’m just me.”

Silence filled the room until Newt carefully took your hand in his and run his fingers over your palm.

“Y/N, please tell me that you don’t really believe this.”

You didn’t answer, which was answer enough for Newt.

He yanked you up, almost forcefully, so that you stood in front of the mirror, with him behind you.

You looked terrible, mascara smudged all over your face, your previous attempts to remove it had only made it worse, your eyes red and puffy from crying.

“Don’t ever say those things about yourself again. You don’t deserve to feel bad. You know what i see in this mirror? I see a beautiful girl, with an amazing personality and an even more amazing body.”

He gently turned you around. “I love your lips. And your cute little nose. I love your curves, your hips, your thighs and your stomach. I love everything about you.”

Newt peppered your face with featherlight kisses, while his fingers drew little circles on your lower back.

“Stop comparing yourself with my ex-girlfriends. Yes, you’re nothing like them, but only because you are better. There’s a reason why you are my girlfriend and they are not. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He smiled at you, a genuine and warm smile, and then kissed you deeply, causing you to forget everything around you.

How did i get so lucky?

I’m absolutely terrified of posting this, but here is a link to the first writing I’ve publicly shared in over two years. 

a short one shot from ChurchTale- the official name of my ‘Fell bros run a motorcycle shop/Kedgeup project. 

Pumpkin mocha breve


Written for the @carryon-countdown prompt: Coffee Shop AU

Summary: I watch him sipping at the cup and wait for the compliments. Which never come. He grimaces and all I want to do is spit on him. But I don’t. I’ve heard it’s not nice to spit on your customers on your first day at work.

(In which Baz works in a coffee shop and Simon is his first customer)

Word count: 925

Read on AO3


It’s unnecessarily grandiose to create your own beverage on your first day as a barista—especially when you’re not really a barista and you’re just being forced to work part-time at the shabby coffee shop around the corner—but I do it anyway. Because I can. And I might as well make a good start.

I hand a cup to my first customer. “What is this?“ he asks, estranged. I look at his face. He’s got the most unremarkable blue eyes. And bronze curls.

“Pumpkin mocha breve,” I say, with a smirk. “I created it myself.”

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For The Love...

Summary: Rowena has it bad for Sam, but he only has eyes for Y/N. Rowena decides to take things into her own hands to try and make Sam choose her.

Characters: Sam x Reader, Rowena, Dean, Bobby

Warnings: Angst, Canon level violence, Minor Torture, a little Fluff?

Word Count: 2,584

A/N: This actually sprung up as a ‘what if’ conversation and became a collaborative piece with @bealg23. Technically his first published writing (Yay, G!) He’s scatter-brained, but a great writer with a vivid imagination. He’s working up the will to post his own things soon. And for fans of Second Chances, he IS Amarus. ; ) It shows absolutely no respect for canon (just FYI). Also, shoutout to @winsister91 for being my beta and helping on the ending (I was stuck!).

Dean, Sam, and Y/N rode in the Impala in silence, en route to Bobby’s house. The boys were preparing to head out on a hunt. Y/N never accompanied them on hunts, preferring to stay out of harm’s way. Instead, she was caretaker and homemaker to the brothers, as well as helping with research when needed, and they were very grateful.

It’s part of what endured Sam to Y/N to begin with. He loved how caring and nurturing she was, regardless of the situation. He was especially grateful that she wanted to stay far away from hunting. He worried less. He loved her and continued to love her more and more everyday they were together over the past year. He smiled to himself at the thought as they pulled into Bobby’s house.

After they said their hellos and Y/N was settled, the boys bid their farewell.

“I’ll call or text everyday, I promise.” Sam said to Y/N, holding her in his arms. She smiled up at him.

“I know. I’ll miss you.” She leaned in for a kiss and Sam happily obliged.

“Alright you two, break it up. Sammy, we gotta go.” Dean announced. Sam sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind Y/N’s ear.

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anonymous asked:

Maybe you should just apologize to the klance fandom and stop being rude! You aren't funny!

Yeah ok sure….maybe the klancers who have been attacking and harrasing me since season 1 about my ship and my art. Sending me anon hate almost every single day. Sending death threats and rape jokes….maybe they should apologize to me first! In fact they should apologize to everyone they have done this to before I should have to apologize for a funny stupid joke i made…..get over yourselves.

Cause klancers have been giving me HELL for like a year now. Countless panic attacks and countless times I’ve wanted to kill myself because the hate wouldn’t stop….i even stopped drawing fanart because I was afraid of the hate….i got cornered in Wal-Mart the other day because I’m supposedly a homophobe cause I don’t ship kl@nce…..ok so the only apology that is needed should be coming from the klancers not me!!

You Promised me Forever

A/N: Something that happened when I couldn’t sleep… Thanks for betaing this @thorne93.

Characters: Dean x Reader

Warnings: All the ANGST. Character death.

Wordcount: 730

*not my GIF*

Originally posted by firsthybridfamily

I have never believed in love, at least not in this life, not as a hunter. The few people I’ve known to have that has lost it, brutally, bloody. No, I have never believed in love, not until the day I met Dean Winchester.

It started for us with a simple arrangement, a kind of friends with benefits deal where we would share a night of passion and comfort whenever we worked a case together. After a while it evolved to texts and phonecalls, and one day we found ourselves going out of our way to spend some time together. I worked more and more cases with the Winchester brothers and within a year of our first night together I found myself living in the bunker with them.

I knew long before then that I loved him, maybe I even knew after that first night, but much like Dean I didn’t think I deserved love. We struggled with findinding our pace me and him. Equally stubborn, equally broken by this life. But somehow we managed and we found what we needed, what we had longed for, in each other. It was like the pieces of our broken souls fit perfectly together.

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Sick again...

Seems like its that time of the year where my body decides to hate me and puts me through the hell of being sick again. 

Though, to be fair, the constant stress I’ve been having could also be a factor in this too. But unfortunately, being sick means I have to limit myself on what I do, including drawing. Commissions will have to be on hold, I’m really sorry guys Dx Along with the few asks I wanted to actually work on, those will also be on hold :( 

Again, I’m really sorry guys! I honestly hate being sick and I just want this to be over with ASAP. At least @minister-of-biscuit and our mom is helping to take care of me. 

Once I get better, I will get back to working on commissions and asks! I promise! ;;