i am the end as i was at the beginning

anonymous asked:

Ash. Ashley. ASHLEY. I've got to work tomorrow but this episode has killedt me dead. Shoutout to my colleagues, who will be working with a ghost tomorrow. Richonne, like water, is life. Thank you for impeccably speedy gif work, also. You a real one.

Listen. I’m supposed to be both writing and in bed right now, but I am instead still staring at my television screen in awe/disbelief that this ship just keeps on giving us so much. They weren’t even on screen that long and they gave us everything. Hand-holding, a hug, a forehead kiss, some teamwork-makes-the-dream-work type action. Literally, on their anniversary, as Rick’s hand is pouring out blood, he managed to find a sentimental gift for his boo, and I screamed even though I knew it was gonna happen. Because that’s how much they kill me. Here I thought 6x10 was going to be my end, but turns out, that was just the beginning of this slow, glorious death. 

anonymous asked:

Hey emma, I am really interested in starting a studyblr but I'm really curious onto how to build it up and where to begin I'd really appreciate it if you could give me tips on how you started yours and how you became so successful

Hey there! Awh, thank you for the comment at the end hah! For a bit of a starting point you should have a read of this post. To build it up your best option is to post your own content. This could be photos, quotes, masterposts, advice, etc! By putting out content that links back to your blog, you’ll hopefully drive traffic to it xx

Lately I’ve just…been thinking, I guess. About this blog.

Am I canon at this point?

Canon divergency normally comes from drastically altering a character’s backstory or fate, yet Araki didn’t give me much to work with (in comparison to other JoJo characters) regarding Erina besides her basic personality and bits of her life.

At what point does fleshing out end and being completely out of character or projecting begin?

anonymous asked:

Im an LGBT witch and truthfully I've used the "in the closet" term. I've only ever been bothered by it when straight witches use it since they have never experienced being in the closet. But to be perfectly honest my parents are more accepting (though not. .. particularly accepting) about homosexuality, than they are non Christian religions. After my mother threatened violence and homelessness against my brother for being atheist, the threat felt familiar and similar to me, personally.

I used it in the beginning because it didn’t seem like there were any other terms I was seeing but it made me so uncomfortable. 

Personally, I am not open to my family about being a witch, I don’t know how they would react, nor do I want to know (I was made fun of for a v long time for just being interested in astrology a bit sooo lol) and coming out to my family as queer wasn’t an issue at all. So I definitely understand this shift of situations. At the end of the day, for me it isn’t about my experience, but other’s and being respectful of that. For me personally my lack of backlash for actually coming out of the closet as a queer lady doesn’t level out the amount of people who have, if that makes sense? That’s just how I feel personally. It just doesn’t feel comparable when you look at the big picture, because the overall argument I’m presenting isn’t about my personal experience, but the big picture in general. 

anonymous asked:

"But it is better to wait for another peek, or deeper clarification from either Hirst or Alex on that matter." You sound like you don't want Ivar to be happy.

                                 { …. No jk. I am not saying that he doesn’t deserve to be loved; I think even he wants to be loved in the right way. I am just saying that it is better to have more certainty about something, and to avoid speculating beyond about something that could mean more than one thing. And I say it by experience–– the internet is cruel, and people will start giving “spoilers” and some of them will turn out to be completely false, and you will end up in complete disappointment. I learned that at the beginning of the year with the season finale; there were some “spoilers” about season 5, and I thought them to be true, I even shared it with a friend and we talked about that for a couple of weeks until BAM the leaked episodes come out, and like three weeks or two after, the sneak peek of season 5 showing Sigurd’s funeral, and POOF disappointment all the way… Is a heartfelt advice, to wait for  and rely on clear and more trusting sources like the actors, or Hirst, or even some visual proof of it, and by that I mean a peek, the trailer, or the episode itself. }

5

A messy little comic where Yuri finds out he’s really dumb.

Part 1/Part 7/Part 9

Guys… I said this was the last part but i was so wrong… get ready for the gay in part 9 (aka the end)

“So What Do We Do Now?”

*pulls your face real close to mine* Listen. To. Me. 

You fucking fight

I’m not american, I can’t imagine how terrified those who are LGBT+, POC, Disabled, Female, Islamic, and any other minority of the US must feel right now, despite how scared I am myself. 

But you wake up tomorrow and you fight. You show that fucking orange dickbag that you will not go quietly. You will survive. You are smart, brave and important to your country no matter what anyone tries to tell you. 

You fight to keep yourself safe, you fight to make your voice heard, you fight for your future, you fight for those around you. 

This is not the end, this is the beginning of a long road ahead but I believe in you. 

Stay safe, look out for yourself, stay informed, and survive just to spite them. 

I love you all. Let me know what more I can do. 

I want to be a better person and sometimes I get all stressed out and feel terrible for not doing everything right but you know what? I am human. I will learn from my mistakes and I will treat people better. I am learning and I can’t hate myself for learning. I can’t hate myself for messing up sometimes. It’s all about the things you take away at the end of each day. That’s where your day ends but hopefully that’s where tomorrow begins.

3

“I am really moved and motivated by things that occur that are unjust. I’ve always hated people trampling on other people. I was in quandary, a philosophical quandary, because I tought, if I’m not my brother’s keeper, who am I? Where does my life end and my sense of responsibility for other lives begin?”  Listen to Me Marlon (2015) dir. Stevan Riley

3

Seven and Yoosung accessory swap!! (+ Sleeping LOLOL Prince and double glasses cause Seven looks odd without them-)

I swear I like Zen the most but all I ever draw is Yoosung-

I still have bad days… Days when ‘happiness’ seems more like a mirage than a destination. Every time I seem to get close to it, it jumps further away again just out of reach. Sometimes it feels like I’ll never get there… Like I’ll never be okay.
But when I look behind me at everything I’ve been through, I see how far I’ve come. I see the pain I endured and the inner demons I battled to get where I am now and I KNOW without question that I’m never going back. And if I’m not going back - then that only leaves forwards … And that’s when I turn around and keep going.
I’ve come too far give up because of one bad day.
Bad days end.
New days begin….
and tomorrow will be better.
'THE WINGS TOUR SETLIST'

-Opening Intro VCR-
Not Today
-Members Introduction + Talk-
Am I Wrong
뱁새 (Baepsae)
쩔어 (DOPE)
-VCR-
BEGIN
LIE
-SUGA’S VCR-
First Love
Lost
SAVE ME
I Need U
-RAPMON’S VCR-
Reflection
Stigma
-JHOPE’S VCR-
MAMA
AWAKE
-VCR-
Cypher pt.4
FIRE
-Talk-
N.O
No More Dream
Boy In Luv
Danger
RUN
War of Hormone
21st Century Girl
-Talk-
Intro: Boy Meets Evil
Blood Sweat & Tears
-VCR-
Outro: WINGS
-Talk-
2! 3! (Hoping For More Good Days)
Spring Day
-END-

Enough - A Moriel Fic

(Not edited and maybe not even all that coherent this just sort of…happened and I went with them.) 

For @cuddles-and-chocolate-cake (thank you!! this got a bit longer than a small dabble so I formatted it properly like this instead of just answering your ask!) 

Title: Enough 

Summary: Prompt: Moriel + slowly. Projected towards the end of ACOWAR, the Second War is over and Mor and Azriel finally acted on their feelings. But Az still has some reservations over whether or not he’s ready to completely accept them. 

TeaserThe Second War washed away that line between them, like footprints on a beach, until it was as though it had never been, as though it had always been nothing more than an impression printed on both of their souls, the ghost of their demons trembling before them. Fear and battle and the threat of losing each other, of losing everything had shattered the illusion like a thin pane of glass struck by a hurricane. 

Link: AO3 

Five hundred years. Five hundred years they waited. Half a millennia they spent apart, their entire lives in limbo, watching, waiting, never daring to cross that line between them. 

He would have waited another five centuries, another hundred immortal lifetimes for her and thanked the Cauldron for every second he was allowed to just be in her presence. 

Now she’s told him that she feels the same way. That she waited. Waited for him. That she would have kept on waiting for him, for him to be ready, until her last breath if that had been what he had needed. Sometimes he still struggles to believe her. Sometimes he still wants to step back over to his side of the line where he still thinks he ought to be. But she gently holds his hand and keeps him by her side, always. And that is where he belongs. 

The Second War washed away that line between them, like footprints on a beach, until it was as though it had never been, as though it had always been nothing more than an impression printed on both of their souls, the ghost of their demons trembling before them. Fear and battle and the threat of losing each other, of losing everything had shattered the illusion like a thin pane of glass struck by a hurricane. 

He still does not know which of them moved first. Perhaps they moved together, as they always have, in dance or in battle, seamless, effortless, perfect. As though they were made for this, as though when the Cauldron forged them they were one; one being split into two but never forgetting where it came from, never forgetting what it ought to be. 

All he knows is that one moment that barrier was between them, a rippling veil of uncertainty beyond which lay something neither of them dared look at for too long in all their years. And then it was gone. Gripped by two hands; one large, one small, one callused, one delicate, one scarred, one smooth, and together they tore it down. 

Then his lips were on hers or her lips were on his but his fingers were in her hair and her hands were gripping his shirt and pulling him closer and…And he was kissing her. Her lips were parting for his tongue and her taste was filling his mouth and he was drowning in her. Azriel was no stranger to staring the waiting abyss in the eyes and denying it just once more. Death and he were old friends now, a friend he visited regularly, delivering others or himself it made little matter. But this.

 When his lips met hers he knew he had never truly courted death at all. Death was not a dark, cold apparition like the shadows that flitted about his skin, his soul. Death was not a hooded male shrouded in lies and gleeful smiles for the souls he could claim. Death did not taste of sorrow and bitterness and frozen ashes, no. 

Death was a lover. Death was a woman wrapped up in silks, gilded in sunshine and drenched in wonder. Death was warm and tender and gentle. Death tasted like the whiskey they had shared in his tent just before the call to arms was issued. Death smelled like citrus and cinnamon and cherry scented shampoo. Death was this moment, this kiss, rich and deep, that he had waited for for more than five centuries. Death was worth every second it had taken to claim him. Death was a love so deep he knew it would now be impossible to live without it, without her. 

Azriel is still afraid, still so afraid of everything. That kiss seems to mark a break in time, there was before that moment and there is after that moment and it feels impossible to reconcile the two.

 Before the kiss was safe, was structured, was known and familiar and comfortable. They had lived in that for five hundred years and it had been good. Not everything he wanted, not everything he secretly hoped for, not everything he had dreamed but…It had been enough. It was enough. His mantra for the five centuries they’d spent apart. Her mantra too, she had whispered to him one night as she lay curled in his arms. A position that felt, so right, yet his demons still hissed snidely was so wrong. 

After the kiss is unknown, unpredictable, and wild. Like trying to fly through a storm he has no say in where the sky will carry him to, he can only flare his wings and pray it does not let him fall. It has not yet but if it does some day, he thinks, he will gladly tumble into that waiting void and there will be a smile on his lips. He thinks that means they did the right thing, no matter what comes next. 

That does not stop him wanting to be careful. Always careful, always precise, and in this above all things…He wishes to handle her with care, with the tenderness and delicacy that she deserves. He wants to take his time and had quietly insisted they move slowly with this. The last thing he had ever wanted to do, and the thing he had been most afraid of, was doing something that she might later regretted. 

It has been almost a month since that first kiss and though everything has changed, in some ways nothing has. He still hovers, still hesitates, still resists her and holds himself back from doing everything he wants. She sleeps in his bed, in his arms, her head pillowed against his shoulder as though this has always been the way it’s been. But still he insists that they wait. He wants her, Cauldron he wants her more than anything in this world but…He swore to himself that he would give her time, time to change her mind, time to leave, time to realise she deserves better… 

Groaning, Azriel rolls his shoulder and flexes his wings, shaking out the stiffness that’s gathered in them. Meetings. In some ways, fighting in the war was preferable to sitting in all of these discussions listening to the High Lords and Ladies talk over one another as they debate politics. But he’s free now, free to seek her out. 

Opening the door to his, their, chambers, he pads inside and freezes in the doorway, blinking. Mor stands just inside, obviously waiting for him, obviously just having stopped pacing up and down his usual path in front of the fire. She looks stunning, the dress she has on a deep, rippling cobalt, the same shade as the siphons he bears. She also looks nervous. 

Shutting the door quietly behind him Azriel walks towards her, concern darkening his hazel eyes. “What is it? What’s wrong?” He asks softly, reaching out to her and instinctively tucking a lock of her thick, golden hair behind her ear so he can see her face. So odd, so odd not having to fight those instincts, so odd to be allowed to touch her this way, intimately, lovingly, the way he’s always wanted to. 

She shakes her head, “Nothing’s wrong, Az,” she says, but her voice trembles slightly as she says it and he’s sure she’s not being honest with him. Before he can question her further however she stands on her toes, curling a hand behind his head, the tips of her fingers brushing the hair at the nape of his neck as she coaxes him down to kiss her. 

Each one still ruins him in a way he never thought anyone could. He never expected to give anyone else this power over him, only her, and he never expected that she would ever wield it in this way. Her tongue brushes his and he melts for her, every mask cracking and crumbling to dust, every bit of armour sliding from him as though molten, pooling on the floor at her feet and leaving him bare before her. 

Mor breaks the kiss between them but keeps his face cupped in her hand, her eyes searching his for something. He wishes he knew what it was, wishes he could gift it to her, wishes he could stop her looking so uncertain. But then a smile is spreading across her face, slow and warm and deliberate as the rising sun and he can’t help the ease that settles over him too in answer. 

“I love you,” she whispers softly, sincerely, without a trace of doubt or hesitation in her as she looks into his eyes. 

He swallows, blinking, startled at this. She hasn’t said those words to him, not since their kiss and never in this way and he can’t breathe. His chest is tight, as though his heart has swollen up and crushed his lungs, leaving no room for anything inside him but the way she makes him feel. 

“I love you too,” he breathes onto her lips. The words come without permission, without thought. Because they’re true. He loves her. He’s loved her from the moment their eyes met and she looked at him the way she did, smiled at him the way she did and he has never been able to deny her that love. 

That smile on her face broadens until it’s radiant and he feels like it could sustain him for years. Then she draws back slightly, fishing in her pockets for something he can’t see before she turns back to him. 

“I know tattooing is traditional,” she begins, her voice strangely breathless. “And we can do that if you want, I I’d like that,” he blinks at her, utterly lost as she moves closer. He’s never seen her so anxious, so unsure of herself before and he wants nothing more than to take her in his arms and make her feel safe and secure. 

“Mor-” He begins softly but she continues on, heedless of his interruption. 

 “But…I wanted to do it this way.” Swallowing she reaches out and takes his hands softly in hers. Placing one over the other she covers them both with her own and he jolts as the realisation of what she’s about to do hits him a moment before she does it. 

“Morrigan,” he rasps out in warning, his eyes wide, his throat constricted as he stares at her. 

She smiles, a hint of sadness in her molten brown eyes. “I’m sure,” she whispers, nodding her head. As though she’s heard every protest, every doubt in his head she goes on, one hand reaching up to caress his cheek, stroking with her thumb. “I love you, Azriel,” she breathes quietly. “I’ve loved you almost our entire lives. I will always love you, Az.” She kisses him then, quick and brief, as though she can’t help herself, as though she needs the contact, needs to express what she’s feeling in some physical way to try and make him understand.

Taking a deep breath she straightens, holding herself like a queen, like a goddess carved of mortal flesh, she looks at him, looks into his eyes and he knows she sees everything. She’s been there for it all, every shadow, every demon, every stain upon his soul and still. Still she looks at him like that. As though he’s as precious to her as she is to him. As though she might burst from the depth of her love for him, even as he thinks he will for her. As though…As though she truly means every word she’s just spoken to him.

“You don’t have to say yes,” she tells him quietly, “I know you,” she tells him quietly, “I know you’re scared. I know you don’t- I know you wanted to take it slow, to give me time to run, to change my mind, to find someone,” she breaks off, jaw tightening as she refuses to force the word out, the word that’s haunted him for centuries.

Composing herself enough she gets out, “But…I’m not going anywhere, Azriel.” She blinks rapidly and a single tear slips from her eyes. He brushes it away without thinking and she continues, “I’ll wait for you. For however long it takes until you’re ready.” He opens his mouth but no words come out, emotion clogs his throat and tears slowly fill his own eyes but he holds them back, watching her, awe in every fibre of him.

“I will wait for you, I promise. But I need you to know that…I want this. I’m surer of this than I’ve ever been of anything in my life.” She swallows, breathing deeply as she presses something small and circular into his palm then tenderly closes his scarred fingers around it. “I want to marry you, Azriel.” His heart stutters to a halt as he looks down at his hand, almost afraid to open it. “Now. In a month. In a decade. In a millennia. I don’t care. I just…I want to be your wife.” He looks up at her again in time to watch her say softly, “If you’ll have me.”

Swallowing tightly past the lump in his own throat he reluctantly looks away from her shining eyes and down to his hand. Slowly uncurling his fingers Azriel looks down at the ring in his palm. Simple, elegant, three thin bands of silver that are woven through one another endlessly with no clearly defined beginning or end. It had belonged to his mother and it’s the only thing he has left of her.

He glances back up at Mor again and finds her staring at him, visibly trembling as she waits for his reaction. “Az?” she whispers hesitantly, voice straining with nerves, hands clenched into tight fists at her sides.

Slowly, deliberately, Az moves forwards and lifts her hand gently and coaxes her fingers to unclench. Tears flow freely down both of their faces as he lovingly slides the ring into place on her finger, marvelling at how well it fits. Her face splits into a broad grin and she throws herself into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist and Azriel finds himself laughing as he slides his arms around her, holding her close. Her lips meet his in a deep, slow kiss and he folds his wings tenderly around them as he carries her slowly back towards the bed.

 Five hundred years. Five hundred years they waited. It’s been long enough.

a song of ice and fire: the night’s watch

“Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night’s Watch, for this night and all the nights to come.”

Cut my resources then put pressure on me to complete a project a month ahead of schedule?

Hi, so firstly a bit of background. I work as part of an evil empire (multinational corporate) and am the lead continuous development and change analyst in charge of a medium sized project.

So at the beginning of December I completed my initial review for a major part of what is to be delivered and advised that it would take until end of January with my current operational resource to complete some of the required actions from the back of it. I also highlighted that I should be given additional 2 full time people to get it completed before January.

Did I get people? Nope.

Did they take a person away from me because “they didn’t seem to be doing that much”? Yep.

Bear in mind this was being done by two people not in my reporting chain and above me on the food chain, so I couldn’t scream blue murder about it.

Last Monday (19th) they pulled me into a meeting and basically gave me a bollocking because “you are putting blockers in place which affect our year end figures” (they actually mean their incentives by this and realised it would affect them when trying to work out how much they would get) and I needed to get things done by the end of the month.

Right. Fuck you guys, you want to see what that guy was doing? You think you are my boss? (my boss was fucking livid and she is cold decking each of their enhancement requests as soon as she is back in office.)

By the end of day Tuesday I advised that I would have a full plan for acceleration of the project ready for review and sign off. But they would need to be available to for a meeting on Friday 23 (today, last working day before Christmas when they were both planning to slope off early for a few drinks)

They didn’t really like it, but they could hardly refuse as I was giving them what they wanted.

Do you think it’s all over?

I book the meeting time for 12. Aren’t I nice, going to let them work through lunch and still get to the pub.

If you have heard the phrase “Death by PowerPoint” then you might think you know what is about to happen.

46 slides with example investigations into issues found in minute and boring detail.

A line by line review of a twelve page document.

At 16:30 with only a fifteen minute break, they had had no lunch. They had glazed eyes. They agreed to the process outline.

Do you think it’s over now?

I then offered to go through the addendums, or if they wished they could take them home and review them, but if I could get an answer before 10 pm today, as I wanted to turn my phone off for the Christmas period and I’d need to get the ball rolling first thing Wednesday. (this was the riskiest part of my plan)

They gratefully said they would study the addendums at home as they knew it was getting late.

I got the messages from both of them within a few minutes of 9:50, all approved.

Lets take a vote? Do you think they read them?

I know they didn’t, the addendums promise me 18 full time operation staff over the next week and given the holiday period the department will fail to meet other BAU targets which has a direct impact on their incentive.

I’ve forwarded the sign offs with the documents attached to my boss who is going to “raise a concern” that this level of manpower was agreed without referring to their boss, with their boss, on Wednesday. She is also going to raise a concern about the tone of meetings they have had with me and the behaviour they have displayed.

Now it’s over.

I feel like I am the only one who doesn’t want Yuri to win

I mean, if he wins, then that’s great, and I’ll be so proud of him, but I don’t think he needs to

1) He has made so much progress over the course of the series, but is it realistic for him to win this quickly? I don’t want a stereotypical happy ending. I want Yuri to rank high, but not win, and be happy with his placement. I want him to be proud of how far he has come, even if he doesn’t win. Yuri was depressed at the beginning, so I want to see him be proud of himself, and to become more motivated for the future

2) If Yuri wins gold, he’ll get married. And I REALLY want Vikturi to be married. But Viktor isn’t that shallow. If we have learned anything throughout the series (and especially from the banquet scene), it is that Viktor loves Yuri for who he is. He is so stricken by this adorable mess that is Yuri Katsuki that he would even put his own career on hold to see him succeed. He has pined over Yuri for around a year now, so I severely doubt that he would leave his own marriage and happiness in the hands of the chance that Yuri might become a champion. While it is a good motivator for Yuri, and it shows how much faith Viktor has in Yuri’s abilities, I guarantee that Vikturi will get married anyway, because they love each other for who they are, not what title they hold.

I want Yuri to lose because I want Yuri to realise his own abilities and further his confidence due to his own merit, not because of a medal. I want Vikturi to get married because they love each other, not because of a medal.

I want Yuri to lose.

Sometimes I get quite bleak thinking about the months to come, but then I remember that I’m going to get a Check Please kickstarter set some time in the coming months and I feel better.

noah fence but i literally can’t get over the fact that isak at the beginning of the season couldn’t even objectively tell eskild if a guy was attractive or not and now at the end of the season he’s telling his boyf how hot he thinks he is…,,, i just love isak & his immense character development so much I could cri