i believe i might be of service

Send my muse some flowers and they'll react to their meaning

Begonia — “We are being watched.”
Blue Flax — “You are very kind.”
Blue Hyacinth — “I will give my life to your service.”
Bronze Chrysanthemum — “Though I value your friendship, I cannot love you.”
Daffodil — "I do not return your affections.”
Deadly Nightshade — "I believe you to be false.”
Foxglove — "You are not really in love.”
French Marigold — "You are unreasonably jealous.”
Hawthorn — "Despite your answer, I shall strive to win your love.”
Iris — "Your friendship means so much to me”
Lavender — “I like you very much, but this, I am sure, is not love.”
Mistleoe — “Kiss me”
Myrtle — “Be my sweetheart.”
Ox-eye Daisy — “I might learn to love you.”
Pink Carnation — “I’ll never forget you.”
Purple Hyacinth — “I am sorry, please forgive me.”
Red Rose — “I love you”
Scarlet Geranium — "I do not trust you.”
Spider Flower — “Elope with me.”
Sweet Pea — "Thank you for a lovely time.”
Tea Rose — "I’ll remember, always.”
Viscaria — “Will you dance with me?”
White Camellia — "You’re adorable.”
White Rose — "I love you not.”
Yellow Rose — "I love another.”

Growth and Failure

The longer the story, the more failures there should be and the greater the change that should occur.

This is the case for anything you write, but the more episodic the series is, the more this holds true. TV series, ongoing web series, and web comics are the most obvious examples of this.

Basically what this means is that your characters can’t succeed at everything they try to do. One thing about shows like Supernatural (the early seasons) is that you as the viewer know that, for the most part, by the end of every episode, the Monster of the Week will have been defeated and everyone you care about will still be alive and healthy. There are overarching plots, but they are tangential to most episodes and don’t affect much.

In Stargate SG-1, on the other hand, they spend eight season facing one major enemy (the Goa’uld), and they spend many of the episodes fighting the Goa’uld in some form or another. And sometimes they fail and the Goa’uld win, and sometimes they win and that later helps the Goa’uld win, and sometimes they don’t fight the Goa’uld at all, and those missions may be either successful or not to a lesser degree. Beyond that, there are lower level failures: they try to make a spaceship and it almost kills some of them, they try to make a new spaceship, it doesn’t work as hoped at a pivotal moment and they almost lose the entire planet, they build a giant spaceship and it gets stolen (briefly), they build more giant spaceships and one gets shot down over a planet and then later they need to get that spaceship home and it (temporarily) gets stuck in a giant sentient gas cloud. All of this means that sometimes they don’t have a spaceship that can do what they need even though they’ve been trying to build one for most of the show, but at the end of the show, they end up with spaceships whose capabilities and weaknesses play a pivotal role in the show.*

My point in recounting all of that (other than to get you all to watch Stargate) is to show that, especially when you have a long series where you want to show a great deal of growth (and I’ll explain why you need that in a second), you can’t just have them win every time they try to grow or every time they try to defeat an enemy. You have to have them fail, too, or there will be no stakes and it will be hard to suspend disbelief.

So…why do you need growth?

Basically, if you end up in the same place that you started, what was the point of your story?

Well, you cry, they defeated the major enemy. Isn’t that enough?

And to that I ask (because I like holding imaginary teaching sessions): If they could defeat the major enemy (or if they could get the girl/boy/non-binary person, or if they could get into the school they wanted, or if they could do whatever else they want to do) with the capabilities they had in the beginning, why didn’t they? There is no need for a story if your characters have everything they need to succeed when the story starts.

And as for why you need failure? Here are three reasons.

One, failure is realistic. Things rarely work well on the first try, especially more than once, which means that the more things a character (or group, organization, etc.) is trying, the more they should fail. If you think about someone trying to learn a language, they basically never (without an eidetic memory) remember all words the first time they see/hear them, or use grammar perfectly on the first try, or pronounce every word correctly. They will get some, but they will rarely get all. The same should go for someone who is trying to learn how to fight, for example. Even if you get everything right the first time you are shown it (which may or may not happen), you’re not going to get it right every time. You might fail more at some things than at others, or fail at the same thing over and over. Sometimes it’s because you don’t understand how to do it, sometimes it’s because your brain and your body aren’t communicating well, and sometimes it’s because your muscles just aren’t strong enough or your body isn’t flexible enough for it to work. Those are all failures that can and do happen in real life.

Two, failure raises the stakes. If you know the main characters are going to succeed at everything they try, or that their failures aren’t going to have any consequences beyond that episode (or chapter, etc.), there are no stakes. There is no concern for whether the character will do well or whether they will be ready in time, because they always are. There is no risk, because there is no failure.

Three, failure is interesting. As we see in Stargate, entire episodes can be built around failures. Failures make for interesting storylines, and sometimes successes that turn into failures can turn into even more interesting storylines. You defeat the Big Bad only to have a Bigger Bad rise up because of it? That’s a great storyline, and shows what was ultimately a failure by the characters. You stop someone for personal reasons at the expense of stopping someone for strategic reasons? Great storyline, because it not only prolongs and changes the conflict, it also adds an opportunity for personal growth and/or conflict into the mix.

With that, failures can also cause really interesting interpersonal interactions. Let’s so all of the characters are counting on Bob to pull off one part of the plan, and despite trying his best, Bob fails. Now everyone blames Bob (or maybe some subset of them blame Bob, depending on their personalities) and it causes tension in the group. Maybe this tension ultimately leads to Bob leaving because he can’t take the blame anymore. Now you have a splintered group all from Bob’s one failure.

What types of growth and failure can you have?

(I’m glad you asked, me.)

Here are some examples (primarily for militaristic/adventure type stories, but there’s a mix)**:

  • Building an army (or a group of people)
    • Not be able to convince people to join
    • Have traitors in the midst
    • Have large numbers die/be killed
    • Have people defect
    • Have ideological/strategic differences with allies
  • Building a new form a transportation
    • Not have it ready in time
    • Have it not go far enough
    • Have it not go fast enough
    • Have it fail mid-journey
    • Have it explode mid-journey
  • Building a weapon
    • Not have it ready in time
    • Have it not work
    • Have it explode in testing
    • Have it fail during use
  • Learning to fight
    • Not be ready in time
    • Hurt self while training
    • Not have the strength
    • Not have the endurance
  • Learning magic
    • Lose control
    • Not have the magical capacity
    • Not understand the theory
    • Not perform key rituals
    • Perform key rituals wrong
    • Not have key materials
  • Learning a language
    • Forget vocabulary
    • Forget grammar
    • Not understand grammar
    • Be unable to pronounce words
    • Be unable to understand spoken words
    • Misunderstand nuances
  • Translating/decoding something
    • Misunderstand nuances
    • Mistranslate words
    • Know the wrong dialect
    • Have the wrong key
    • Looking for something
    • Follow misleading clues
    • Have someone else find it first
  • Taking territory
    • Not have sufficient forces
    • Not have sufficient ability to break walls
    • Lose too many forces
    • Be unable to hold territory
  • Getting a romantic partner
    • Cheat
    • Make bad decisions while intoxicated
    • Forget significant dates/events
    • Say inappropriate or mean things
    • Misunderstand what is being said
    • Miscommunicate
  • Getting a degree
    • Not having enough money
    • Not studying enough
    • Not getting good enough grades
    • Not having the time
    • Having other life issues that distract from it
  • Forming a government
    • Have ideological splits
    • Have political splits
    • Have factions form
    • Have coup attempts
    • Be unable to govern
    • Be unable to create a working organizational structure
    • Be unable to create adequate civil service (police, roads, etc.)

*Of course, Stargate has some of its own issues with this, like the fact that Daniel has been brought back to life more than once, so the viewers stop believing that Daniel is ever actually dead.

**When I use the term failure, I don’t mean that it is the fault of the character or organization (necessarily, though in some cases it might be). I just mean that it is not-success.

Show Me That You Love Me

(ao3, buzzfeed article that inspired this nonsense)

(Monday, Feb 6)

Clarke: FYI, I’m telling my coworkers that we’re dating so this creep will stop hitting on me
AT WORK

Bellamy: You can’t just leave it at that.
How creepy are we talking?  
You know if I don’t get specifics my mind jumps straight to the worst-case scenario.

Clarke: It’s not that big a deal? Mostly just annoying
But he won’t take no for an answer so I told him I had a boyfriend

Bellamy: Not a girlfriend?

Clarke: They know I’m bi already because I ranted about gross stereotypes at the Christmas party
It’s why they instituted a two-drink limit
And if he doesn’t respect my hard “no” I doubt he’ll respect my girlfriend’s so
Boyfriend

Bellamy: You sure you don’t want to date him? He sounds like a charmer.

Clarke: I was sure the first fifteen times he asked and my decision hasn’t wavered.
I wouldn’t have even mentioned it to you except I know Anya comes to the bar sometimes and I didn’t want you to blow my cover

Bellamy: Consider your cover secure.

Clarke: Thanks. I owe you one.

Bellamy: What are fake boyfriends for?

* * *

(Wednesday, Feb 8)

Clarke: WTF???

Bellamy: I see you got my flowers.

Clarke: They’re hard to miss seeing as they take up MY WHOLE CUBICLE
It smells like a rainforest
My allergies are killing me
Seriously. Why.

Bellamy: Can’t I just show my fake girlfriend that I appreciate her?
Why must you always assume I have ulterior motives?

Clarke: Because I know how expensive flowers can be and you’re the biggest coupon-clipping Scrooge I know

Bellamy: I’m helping!
I’m just trying to back up your story, Princess.

Clarke: You’re just trying to embarrass me in front of my coworkers is what you’re doing

Bellamy: Remember that time you made me do karaoke with you?
Some might consider us even now.

Clarke: You know Valentine’s Day is next week right? If you do something like this on a random Wednesday, you’re going to have to do something for that too or else Cage will think we’ve broken up

Bellamy: So I’m going to have to top myself is what you’re saying.

Clarke: I don’t think that’s what I said at all

Bellamy: If you insist, Princess.

Clarke: I don’t insist. I STRONGLY DO NOT INSIST.

Bellamy: Unrelated question: what song would you most like to have serenaded to you?

Clarke: If that’s how it’s gonna be then start preparing yourself
Cause it’s on, Blake

Bellamy: Dammit, I did not think this through.

Keep reading

The whole bullshit about not knowing what customers are going through can rot in a hole. What about us?

“Your apron is filthy! You need to go home and wash it now!!” She had the most disgusted face. My shift moved me off the floor before I snapped because oh yes ill just go home to the damn tent I was living in at the time. My family got to do laundry once a month. That woman can go Fuck right the hell off god damn it.


“Smile! Its so early, you have a bright day ahead of you!!” :DDDDD

This, at about 6am, just seven hours after all three of my brothers had been crushed between two cars by a drunk driver. My phone was dead, I had no way to get to where my family was staying, I had no idea if my brothers were even alive at this point. And I had to force a smile through tears and a complete and utter deadness on the inside? On no sleep, and working three jobs during that time? Burn in hell.

When I was a customer during those times I was so fucking polite to everyone. Honestly I wasn’t really feeling much of anything but the fact that my god damned life depended on customers being happy with my service? No, not okay. Working customer service during the worst years of my life really fucking damaged me. It’ll damage anyone, really.

I guess I’m just a much bigger bitch now. That’s okay. And my brothers are (mostly) fine. One has a limp, and the other had his legs crushed, and we live in an apartment now, so…

I might make an offhanded comment to a regular about it or someone will hear me talking about it and they’re completely flabbergasted o had been homeless. It always pissed me off. I can not believe people didn’t notice the bags under my eyes, my short temper, the low drawl I had from exhaustion. Yeah, there’s a reason I’m always there, buddy, its cause I literally had no where else to go.

Hey kiddos, if y'all are going through something, keep fighting. Poverty, or illness, disability or shit even just college. Whatever it is. Those customers, and your shitty managers? They can Fuck right off. Please just keep yourselves safe, and know that someone out there is rooting for you

Episode 3

Dearest Player,

I hope this letter finds you well. I can hear your complaint already, “Gordon Freeman, we have not heard from you in ages!” Well, if you care to hear excuses, I have plenty, the greatest of them being I’ve been in other dimensions and whatnot, unable to reach you by the usual means. This was the case until eighteen months ago, when I experienced a critical change in my circumstances, and was redeposited on these shores. In the time since, I have been able to think occasionally about how best to describe the intervening years, my years of silence. I do first apologize for the wait, and that done, hasten to finally explain (albeit briefly, quickly, and in very little detail) events following those described in my previous letter (referred to herewith as Episode 2).

To begin with, as you may recall from the closing paragraphs of my previous missive, the death of Eli Vance shook us all. The Research & Rebellion team was traumatized, unable to be sure how much of our plan might be compromised, and whether it made any sense to go on at all as we had intended. And yet, once Eli had been buried, we found the strength and courage to regroup. It was the strong belief of his brave daughter, the feisty Alyx Vance, that we should continue on as her father had wished. We had the Arctic coordinates, transmitted by Eli’s long-time assistant, Dr. Judith Mossman, which we believed to mark the location of the lost research vessel Borealis. Eli had felt strongly that the Borealis should be destroyed rather than allow it to fall into the hands of the Combine. Others on our team disagreed, believing that the Borealis might hold the secret to the revolution’s success. Either way, the arguments were moot until we found the vessel. Therefore, immediately after the service for Dr. Vance, Alyx and I boarded a helicopter and set off for the Arctic; a much larger support team, mainly militia, was to follow by separate transport.

It is still unclear to me exactly what brought down our little aircraft. The following hours spent traversing the frigid waste in a blizzard are also a jumbled blur, ill-remembered and poorly defined. The next thing I clearly recall is our final approach to the coordinates Dr. Mossman has provided, and where we expected to find the Borealis. What we found instead was a complex fortified installation, showing all the hallmarks of sinister Combine technology. It surrounded a large open field of ice. Of the Hypnos itself there was no sign…or not at first. But as we stealthily infiltrated the Combine installation, we noticed a recurent, strangely coherent auroral effect–as of a vast hologram fading in and out of view. This bizarre phenomenon initially seemed an effect caused by an immense Combine lensing system, Alyx and I soon realized that what we were actually seeing was the research vessel Borealis itself, phasing in and out of existence at the focus of the Combine devices. The aliens had erected their compound to study and seize the ship whenever it materialized. What Dr. Mossman had provided were not coordinates for where the sub was located, but instead for where it was predicted to arrive. The vessel was oscillating in and out of our reality, its pulses were gradually steadying, but there was no guarantee it would settle into place for long–or at all. We determined that we must put ourselves into position to board it at the instant it became completely physical.

At this point we were briefly detained–not captured by the Combine, as we feared at first, but by minions of our former nemesis, the conniving and duplicitous Wallace Breen. Dr. Breen was not as we had last seen him–which is to say, he was not dead. At some point, the Combine had saved out an earlier version of his consciousness, and upon his physical demise, they had imprinted the back-up personality into a biological blank resembling an enormous slug. The BreenGrub, despite occupying a position of relative power in the Combine hierarchy, seemed nervous and frightened of me in particular. Wallace did not know how his previous incarnation, the original Dr. Breen, had died. He knew only that I was responsible. Therefore the slug treated us with great caution. Still, he soon confessed (never able to keep quiet for long) that he was himself a prisoner of the Combine. He took no pleasure from his current grotesque existence, and pleaded with us to end his life. Alyx believed that a quick death was more than Wallace Breen deserved, but for my part, I felt a modicum of pity and compassion. Out of Alyx’s sight, I might have done something to hasten the slug’s demise before we proceeded.

Not far from where we had been detained by Dr. Breen, we found Judith Mossman being held in a Combine interrogation cell. Things were tense between Judith and Alyx, as might be imagined. Alyx blamed Judith for her father’s death…news of which, Judith was devastated to hear for the first time. Judith tried to convince Alyx that she had been a double agent serving the resistance all along, doing only what Eli had asked of her, even though she knew it meant she risked being seen by her peers–by all of us–as a traitor. I was convinced; Alyx less so. But from a pragmatic point of view, we depended on Dr. Mossman; for along with the Borealis coordinates, she possessed resonance keys which would be necessary to bring the vessel fully into our plane of existence.

We skirmished with Combine soldiers protecting a Combine research post, then Dr. Mossman attuned the Borealis to precisely the frequencies needed to bring it into (brief) coherence. In the short time available to us, we scrambled aboard the ship, with an unknown number of Combine agents close behind. The ship cohered for only a short time, and then its oscillations resume. It was too late for our own military support, which arrived and joined the Combine forces in battle just as we rebounded between universes, once again unmoored.

What happened next is even harder to explain. Alyx Vance, Dr. Mossman and myself sought control of the ship–its power source, its control room, its navigation center. The ships’s history proved nonlinear. Years before, during the Combine invasion, various members of an earlier science team, working in the hull of a dry-docked vessel situated at the Aperture Science Research Facility in Michigan, had assembled what they called the Bootstrap Device. If it worked as intended, it would emit a field large enough to surround the ship. This field would then itself travel instantaneously to any chosen destination without having to cover the intervening space. There was no need for entry or exit portals, or any other devices; it was entirely self-contained. Unfortunately, the device had never been tested. As the Combine pushed Earth into the Seven Hour War, the aliens seized control of our most important research facilities. The staff of the Borealis, with no other wish than to keep the ship out of Combine hands, acted in desperation. The switched on the field and flung the Borealis toward the most distant destination they could target: Arctica. What they did not realize was that the Bootstrap Device travelled in time as well as space. Nor was it limited to one time or one location. The Borealis, and the moment of its activation, were stretched across space and time, between the nearly forgotten Lake Huron of the Seven Hour War and the present day Arctic; it was pulled taut as an elastic band, vibrating, except where at certain points along its length one could find still points, like the harmonic spots along a vibrating guitar string. One of these harmonics was where we boarded, but the string ran forward and back, in both time and space, and we were soon pulled in every direction ourselves.

Time grew confused. Looking from the bridge, we could see the drydocks of Aperture Science at the moment of teleportation, just as the Combine forces closed in from land, sea and air. At the same time, we could see the Arctic wastelands, where our friends were fighting to make their way to the protean Borealis; and in addition, glimpses of other worlds, somewhere in the future perhaps, or even in the past. Alyx grew convinced we were seeing one of the Combine’s central staging areas for invading other worlds–such as our own. We meanwhile fought a running battle throughout the ship, pursued by Combine forces. We struggled to understand our stiuation, and to agree on our course of action. Could we alter the course of the Borealis? Should we run it aground in the Arctic, giving our peers the chance to study it? Should we destroy it with all hands aboard, our own included? It was impossible to hold a coherent thought, given the baffling and paradoxical timeloops, which passed through the ship like bubbles. I felt I was going mad, that we all were, confronting myriad versions of ourselves, in that ship that was half ghost-ship, half nightmare funhouse.

What it came down to, at last, was a choice. Judith Mossman argued, reasonably, that we should save the Borealis and deliver it to the resistance, that our intelligent peers might study and harness its power. But Alyx reminded me had sworn she would honor she father’s demand that we destroy the ship. She hatched a plan to set the Borealis to self-destruct, while riding it into the heart of the Combine’s invasion nexus. Judith and Alyx argued. Judith overpowered Alyx and brought the Borealis area, preparing to shut off the Bootstrap Device and settle the ship on the ice. Then I heard a shot, and Judith fell. Alyx had decided for all of us, or her weapon had. With Dr. Mossman dead, we were committed to the suicide plunge. Grimly, Alyx and I armed the Borealis, creating a time-travelling missile, and steered it for the heart of the Combine’s command center.

At this point, as you will no doubt be unsurprised to hear, a Certain Sinister Figure appeared, in the form of that sneering trickster, G-Man.  For once he appeared not to me, but to Alyx Vance. Alyx had not seen the cryptical schoolmarm since childhood, but she recognized hi, instantly. “Come along with me now, we’ve places to be and things to do,” said G-Man, and Alyx acquiesced. She followed the strange grey man out of the Borealis, out of our reality. For me, there was no convenient door held open; only a snicker and a sideways glance. I was left alone, riding the weaponized research vessel into the heart of a Combine world. An immense light blazed. I caught a cosmic view of a brilliantly glittering Dyson sphere. The vastness of the Combine’s power, the futility of our struggle, blossomed briefly in my awareness. I saw everything. Mainly I saw how the Borealis, our most powerful weapon, would register as less than a fizzling matchhead as it blew itself apart. And what remained of me would be even less than that.

Just then, as you have surely already foreseen, the Vortigaunts parted their own checkered curtains of reality, reached in as they have on prior occasions, plucked me out, and set me aside. I barely got to see the fireworks begin.

And here we are. I spoke of my return to this shore. It has been a circuitous path to lands I once knew, and surprising to see how much the terrain has changed. Enough time has passed that few remember me, or what I was saying when last I spoke, or what precisely we hoped to accomplish. At this point, the resistance will have failed or succeeded, no thanks to me. Old friends have been silenced, or fallen by the wayside. I no longer know or recognize most members of the research team, though I believe the spirit of rebellion still persists. I expect you know better than I the appropriate course of action, and I leave you to it. Expect no further correspondence from me regarding these matters; this is my final episode.

Yours in infinite finality,

Gordon Freeman, Ph.D.

=======================================

Marc Laidlaw
[: source:]

The Last Letter of a Kamikaze Pilot,

My Thoughts,

I am keenly aware of the tremendous personal honor involved in my having been chosen to be a member of the Army Special Attack Corps, which is considered to be the most elite attack force in the service of our glorious fatherland.
  My thoughts about all these things derive from a logical standpoint which is more or less the fruit of my long career as a student and, perhaps, what some others might call a liberal. But I believe that the ultimate triumph of liberty is altogether obvious. As the Italian philosopher Benedetto Croce has proclaimed, “liberty is so quintessential to human nature that it is absolutely impossible to destroy it. "I believe along with him that this is a simple fact, a fact so certain that liberty must of necessity continue its underground life even when it appears, on the surface, to be suppressed—it will always win through in the end.
  It is equally inevitable that an authoritarian and totalitarian nation, however much it may flourish temporarily, will eventually be defeated. In the present war we can see how this latter truth is borne out in the Axis Powers themselves. What more needs to be said about Fascist Italy? Nazi Germany too has already been defeated, and we see that all the authoritarian nations are now falling down one by one, exactly like buildings with faulty foundations. All these developments only serve to reveal all over again the universality of the truth that history has so often proven in the past: men’s great love of liberty will live on into the future and into eternity itself.

Although there are aspects to all this which constitute something the fatherland has reason to feel apprehensive about, it is still a truly wonderful thing to feel that one’s own personal beliefs have been validated. On every front, I believe that ideologies are at the bottom of all the fighting that is going on nowadays. Still further, I am firmly convinced that the outcome of each and every conflict is predictable on the bases of the ideologies held by the opposing sides. 

  My ambitious hope was to have lived to see my beloved fatherland—Japan—develop into a great empire like Great Britain in the past, but that hope has already been dashed. If those people who truly loved their country had been given a fair hearing, I do not believe that Japan would be in its present perilous position. This was my ideal and what I dreamt about: that the people of Japan might walk proudly anywhere in the world.

  In a real sense it is certainly true that a pilot in our special aerial attack force is, as a friend of mine has said, nothing more than a piece of the machine. He is nothing more than that part of the machine which holds the plane’s controls—endowed with no personal qualities, no emotions, certainly with no rationality—simply just an iron filament tucked inside a magnet itself designed to be sucked into an enemy air-craft carrier. The whole business would, within any context of rational behavior, appear to be unthinkable, and would seem to have no appeal whatsoever except to someone with a suicidal disposition. I suppose this entire range of phenomena is best seen as something peculiar to Japan, a nation of spirituality. So then we who are nothing more than pieces of machinery may have no right to say anything, but we only wish, ask, and hope for one thing: that all the Japanese people might combine to make our beloved country the greatest nation possible.

  Were I to face the battles that lie ahead in this sort of emotional state, my death would be rendered meaningless. This is the reason then, as I have already stated, that I intend to concentrate on the honor involved in being designated a member of the Special Attack Corps.

When I am in a plane perhaps I am nothing more than just a piece of the machine, but as soon as I am on the ground again I find that I am a complete human being after all, complete with human emotions—and passions too. when the sweetheart whom I loved so much passed away, I experienced a kind of spiritual death myself. Death in itself is nothing when you look upon it, as I do, as merely a pass to the heaven where I will see her once again, the one who is waiting there for me.

  Tomorrow we attack. It may be that my genuine feelings are extreme—and extremely private! But I have put them down as honestly as I can. Please forgive me for writing so loosely and without much logical order. Tomorrow one believer in liberty and liberalism will leave this world behind. His withdrawing figure may have a lonely look about it, but I assure you that his heart is filled with contentment.
  I have said everything I wanted to say in the way I wanted to say it. Please accept my apologies for any breach of etiquette. Well,then.

—Captain Ryoji Uehara

Uehara was killed during an attack on the US Fleet at the Battle of Okinawa, May 11th, 1945. He was 22 years old. Among his personal effects was a book on philosophy by Benedetto Croce, in the cover of which he had written,

“Goodbye, my beloved Kyoko-chan. I loved you so much;but even then you were already engaged, so it was very painful for me.Thinking only of your happiness,I suppressed the urge to whisper into your ear. That I loved you. I love you still.

Apologies for a long post but I needed to vent a little bit.

I received my first ever complain from a customer today. In three years of working for the company, this is my only ever official complaint and I’m completely shell shocked by it because it’s a complete damn lie.

The customer claimed to have tried so send a next day guaranteed parcel from us and I refused them because they’d missed the time limit even though they’re were there an hour before the final time. (They weren’t, they’re were 10 minutes passed the time limit, and I explained that to them on the day. They literally said I came in at [X TIME] and was refused - when actually they came an HOUR later than they said they did! ALSO I didn’t refuse them at all, I just warned that it wouldn’t reach its destination until the day after the next.)
They also claimed that I ‘didn’t know what I was doing, and needed extra training’ because I told them they would have to pay for their “pre-paid” parcel. (When the parcel had no pre-paid labels or stamps. It was literally just a box with an address on it, not even a freepost address. Your parcel won’t even leave our depo if it doesn’t have any kind of payment label on it. Which again, I explained to them.)
On top of that, they claimed I was unprofessional and lacking in good customer service skills. (Which I’m not even going to justify with an explanation.)

My manager didn’t even bat an eyelid, he didn’t believe for one second that it had happened the way the customer said, and told me not to worry about it, he’d have my back, and I’m really appreciative of that.

But at the same time it just completely blows me away that this person would actually lie to my head office, and report me, with no real concern for how any of this might effect my life or my career, because they couldn’t get what they wanted. How self absorbed, and entitle does a person have to be????

I just??? What? How? Why?

I’m extremely lucky to have a great manager who literally laughed at the very idea that I would act that way, but still,

PEOPLE, CUSTOMERS: Please remember that your actions have consequences. I’m going to come out of this pretty much unscathed, but there are companies and managers who are much stricter than mine, if you feel the need to complain, think about the person your complaining about. Does that one counter clerk or sale assistant really deserve it? Is what your saying completely true? Is it really their fault if they’re just following company policy? Could you live with yourself if this person got demoted, or disciplined
or even fired, because you didn’t get what you want?!

You And I (M)

Summary: In which you and Jungkook fall in love and he remembers you throughout every lifetime he’s had to live without you but now, three lifetimes later you’re here—only there’s a problem. You don’t recognize him, and you’re in love with someone else.
Pairing: Jungkook | Reader + a side of Jimin | Reader
Genre: Angst/Fluff/Smut, Reincarnation AU
Word Count: 11,566
Author’s Note: I FINALLY DECIDED TO WRITE SOME SMUT; major kudos to @kimvtae for reading some of it and reassuring me it wasn’t as trashy as I kept thinking it out to be.

.

Jungkook still remembers the very first day he ever laid eyes on you, as long ago as that memory may seem, those experiences and emotions like a fresh spring breeze brushing through his hair, always reminding him of good times—better times, those simple snapshots in time where he saw you and believed almost immediately that you were the one he was searching for. That you, in all your kind intentions and gracious smiles and adorable disposition, were the being he was destined to search for in every generation, every extension and breadth of lifetimes.

Every past lifetime leading up to the very first time had been spent searching, wandering, dreaming of your features, your smile, every little piece of this strange other. It was very rare that someone be reborn with the same consistent thoughts of another person brewing in one’s mind, settling themselves into deep corners of the consciousness where they could never be ripped away. It was said that individual beings were always renewed with the same features, same name, same passions, same hopes and dreams, same soul; memories, however, could not so easily be recovered. And yet Jungkook remained, knowing in his heart that he would wait forever for you.

He searched each lifetime, traveled far and wide, explored and uncovered and wandered, only to turn up empty-handed—he never knew what he was looking for, but it was just the kind of thing in which he would know when he saw you.

And know he certainly did.

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Taking a Bullet | Sherlock x Reader

This is an amazing collaboration with @prettyxlittlexwriter


She is amazing, and also my mind twin. Prompts were hers and she is lovely ❤️ Hoping for more collabs in the future!

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Anonymous said
Hi, i wondered if you could fill this prompt, sherlock x reader and the reader is seriously hurt and hospitalised during a case and it’s sherlocks fault so he feels really guilty that his love is hurt because of him. Your writing is lovely btw xxx

Imagine the reader taking a bullet for Sherlock o.o

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“John!” Sherlock roared. Distantly, he heard footsteps rapidly approaching, but all of his attention was devoted to you and the massive amount of blood you were losing. He shifted his grip on you, trying as carefully as he could to maneuver you into his lap. You groaned loudly and gritted your teeth against the searing pain and pressed your hand to the wound on your side.
“What the bloody hell happened?” John demanded, dropping to his knees beside you both. “Where is Moriarty?”
“Gone,” you bite out angrily.

“She leapt in front of me,” Sherlock said, his voice laced with panic. “The bullet was meant for me.” John lifted the edge of your crimson soaked shirt and assessed your wound. As you removed your hand, dark red blood poured from the small, round hole above your hip bone.
“It’s through and through,” he said, “I think it’s missed most major organs, but she’s lost a lot of blood.” He applied pressure to the area, desperately trying to stop the blood flow.

“So he’s gone?” the doctor questioned. Sherlock nodded bitterly, “John I believe-” he was cut short by a yell of pain escaping your lips “- I believe that is the least of our worries.”
Keeping one hand on your wound, John used his other to fish out his phone to call for help. As he speaks urgently to emergency services your body begins to shake.
Sherlock grips you tighter, taking in your pale skin, the sweat beading on your forehead as a sense of dread begins to fill his heart.

You might die because of him.

-

Sherlock stormed through the doors of 221B, flinging his long coat onto a kitchen chair. He slumped against the kitchen table, head held in his hands. He should have sent you home, he should have forced you into a cab and gotten you as far away from harm as possible. You’d begged and pleaded and eventually he’d given in. The detective couldn’t help the fact that he had given in because of his own selfish reasons. He had taken an interest in you, believed this was a simple case that he could solve easily, and impressively.

Sherlock thought he could make you fall for him.


And he stood, shaking on unstable legs, unable to believe the had been so foolish. He turned, slamming his fists onto the table, feeling the pain course through him, but it wasn’t enough. He gripped the edge of the table and flipped it, send it and it’s contents crashing to the kitchen floor. How was he supposed to sit here and wait for John to call with an update? How was he ever supposed to look you in your beautiful eyes ever again?

Not knowing what else to do, he bent down, righting the table again and began to clean up the mess he’d just made.

A few hours later, Sherlock heard footsteps approaching the entrance to 221B. He expectantly rose, and flung open the door only to reveal Mrs. Hudson. His face fell at her smile, him wanting to see a particular smirk.

Your smile, the one that could brighten his days after a particularly difficult case, the one that he dreamed of waking up to in the morning, the one that now, he may never see again.

“Yes, Mrs. Hudson?” he spat out angrily.

“Sorry Sherlock, but John wanted to see you.”

He immediately ran down the steps and through the front door. “John?” he asked, his voice laced with panic.

“John, how is she?”

“Out of surgery, Sherlock. She’s alive. And she’s asking for you.”

With the added relief of knowing that you were alive, came the guilt of knowing he’d have to face you.

“Well, what are you waiting for Sherlock, get in the cab!” John rushed.

“John I… I can’t.”

“You what? Sherlock, she took a fucking bullet for you and you don’t even want to go see her?” John was furious at this point.

“She is hurt because of me!” Sherlock reminded him. “Because I couldn’t keep her safe.”

“Sherlock, she’s been begging to see you. She won’t eat, she won’t take any medicine, she refuses to do anything until she sees you. She doesn’t even want to talk, Sherlock.” John noted Sherlock’s pained expression and softened a bit. “Sherlock, go”

The consulting detective pushed his long coat behind him and jumped in the cab, speeding away.

John groaned. “Sherlock, I meant with me. Go with me.”

-

You could head a pattering of footsteps outside the door, but your mind was cloudy and you couldn’t register it. You felt someone approach your hospital bed and you fought to open your heavy lids.

“Sh- Sherlock?” you mumbled as a pair of familiar eyes swum into your vision.

“Yes, it’s me, Y/N,” he replied, his voice heavy with emotion. You struggled hard against the fatigue and heavy doses of pain medication to focus on him. His blue-green kaleidoscope eyes were downcast, his shoulders slumped. He looked as terrible as you felt.

“Sherlock,” You breathed, the nearness of him already helping to make you feel better. The detective fidgeted, working hard to avoid your gaze. “Sherlock, I’m going to be ok. Please, look at me.” He raised his eyes to yours and you could see them almost overflowing with pain.

“Why Y/N?” He asked, his voice cracking.

“Why what?” you questioned, confused.

“Why did you do it? Why did you take the bullet for me?”

“Oh, Sherlock,” you smiled. “Because I love you.”

thisbirdhadflown  asked:

Here's a prompt: how about Hartwin in a Mr. and Mrs. Smith AU?

I hope this is what you were looking for!

‘’I can’t believe it!’’ Eggsy yells, angry and sharp, when there’s a lull in the shooting and mayhem. ‘’You’ve been a fucking spy all along, Galahad.’’ He’s hiding in the hallway, just next to the door, and Harry’s still somewhere in the living room.

There’s the tell-tale sound of Harry reloading. ‘’And you,’’ he says, quieter than Eggsy, but just as angry, and Eggsy thinks he’s hiding behind the sofa by the sound of it, ‘’a database administrator, really, Eggsy?’’ A bullet embeds itself into the doorframe, some four or five inches from Eggsy’s head. ‘’And you still go by Unwin? How many years have you been Unwin-Hart now?’’

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anonymous asked:

My job is very physical and so all the employees wear shorts and t shirts so we don't die in the 110 degree heat. My arms/legs are covered in old self harm scars. Most people don't notice them or they are polite enough not to say anything. Today, I was loading up a woman's horse feed and she saw my scars and not only asked about them, but tracked down the manager and complained about how 'unprofessional' I looked. My manager defended me but the bitch called corporate and wants me fired. Wtf?

As someone with self harm scars I can totally relate to rude questions or glaring. People need to mind their own fucking business. Employees don’t go around asking them why their head is up their ass so far that they can see the light out of their mouth. You’re giving her a service and nothing more. And for all she knows it’s scars from a cat or something. I look people dead in the eye sometimes when they say something invasive about it and tell them some very grim detailed “accident” and act like I’m completely serious. Adding a “my mother died in that accident” usually makes them uncomfortable enough to stfu. But it helps that I do actually have scars on my face from a cat as well as a couple of bad falls so that might make it more believable. I thrive on making people like that uncomfortable since their aim is to do the same to me. -Abby

I am beyond overwhelmed to have hit this milestone. I don’t even a little bit deserve so many wonderful people, and honestly it just makes me wish that I could know even more of you amazing people better.

I have so much in my head to say, and some of it isn’t just incoherent crying, but I can’t verbalize it to save my life. But know that this, and everybody who is constantly so sweet and supportive of me, absolutely makes my day. I wouldn’t have stuck around here as long as I have if it weren’t for you.

I believe that it is customary to make a list of faves, so I want to take the opportunity to thank some lovely people in particular for talking to me, making me laugh, and impressing the crap out of me with your work. I was going to try to write something for everyone, but if I did that I’m afraid I might be here all night. Just know that I love you all, but if you still need a hype-woman I am all too willing to provide the service 

@10cloverfieldlane @adams-amys @adeles @aliceayres @andsowewalkalone @audreyhepbuns @baby-goose @batwan @brad-pitt @bubbagumps @buscemist @charliecox @chazelle @colinfirth @drivingmradam @emmacharlottewatson @estebancolbert @fassys @filmforwomen @gaelgarciab @gonegurls @grandnutin @guyfleegmans @henricavyll @hoechlin @holybooks @jadeslove @jamesbuchenan @jamesvega @janel-moloney @jessicahenwicks @karlurbansvevo @lesamourai @lizziesolsen @mcavoy @michaellfassbender @misshollyregrets @nicole-kidman @nightgerbil @officerk @patriotevans @pattyjenkins @pedropascals @proglets @reservoirdogma @restlesstymes @rickybakker @ridleydaisy @rileykeogh @robinwright @romanoff-nat @samuelrockwell @saoirseronan @sassthefrass @siochembio @soldiersandsweethearts @stuckinreversemode @taron-egertonn @tekkonkinkreet2006 @thedouble @tolkiens @tomellis @twilightly @vanessacarlysle @viola-davis @waititi @waltwhitmaniac @zhang-ziyis

A very special shoutout to my friends from former fandoms who have stuck with me for all this time, you guys are angels and champions; @alyssaannfrank @magnusgoatee @raveras @suspensionbridges @timgutterson

And on no uncertain terms should anybody at all be following @ethan-coen whatsoever. 

Thank you and good night

Fanfiction - Broken Crown 3.5

Previously

Broken Crown

3.5

Transfixed by the images playing on the monitor, I stood there, a terrible cold taking over my body. Somewhere close I heard Jamie cursing in Gaidhlig, his voice rich with anger and helplessness.

“This morning the sun rises in blood over Edinburgh.” The young blonde reporter stated dramatically, her face serious. “Just as the city was waking up for the day, a bomb placed near the pub “The World’s End” exploded, leaving at least four dead and twelve gravely wounded. The police has yet to confirm a terrorist attack, although it’s certainly treating it as such for the time being. The Prime Minister is expected later today at the scene…”

I felt so incredibly defeated. This was the reason I has been recruited in the first place – to stop such awful things from happening. And yet, I was already losing even before I had been placed on the real chessboard. With weird fascination, I watched the injured crying on the streets, people running hectically trying to escape an invisible threat. A single shoe had been forgotten on the pavement and I worried senselessly for that person limping away, partially barefooted. I knew the names of the victims would be in my mind for the rest of my days – I’d repeat them as a mantra, use them to strengthen my resolve and, sometimes, they would turn an accusing finger towards me in my dreams.

“Do you think…?” I numbly asked Jamie.

“Aye.” He gritted his teeth, his fists firmly closed. I could almost detect the faint smell of blood, oozing from his palms, in the places where his nails had pierced through skin. “It’s them. We were expecting something like this to happen for some time now. I just – we hoped –“ Jamie shook his head, speechless. I wanted to hold him against me, as we had been not half an hour before – to give him whatever comfort my arms were able to. To ease the senseless guilt I knew all too well he must be feeling, with the touch of my fingertips – but settled for a quick squeeze of his shoulder.

“What can we do?” I asked him softly.

“We’re running out of time.” Jamie gave me a harrowing look, as he turned his back on the television – a panel of experts and analysts, swiftly brought together to comment on the possible significance and consequences of the attack, was now debating whether a gas leak was a plausible possibility. “It’s time ye know everything.”

I followed him to the study, our usual working space, looking bizarrely clean and organized after the chaos we had witnessed. He retrieved a thick file from the bottom drawer and placed two surveillance photographs on the polished desk. The two men portrayed were strikingly different - yet they both had a commanding presence, captured even by the lens, that made them much alike.

“Colum and Dougal Mackenzie.” Jamie pointed to each of them with one of his long fingers. “They own and direct Leoch Enterprises – it started as a small distillery but they built an empire over the years, currently worth millions of pounds. Ye may know their most famous whiskey, The Gathering.” And I realized that the name of the company had sounded familiar for that exact reason. “They have their hands in lots of other things too. Construction, tourism, pharmaceutics - even weapons.”

“Busy blokes.” I snickered. Jamie gave me a weak smile - he seemed on edge, his body tensed to the point of breaking.

“Some years ago the MI5 started hearing troubling rumours concerning their affiliations.” He ruffled his red hair. “How they maybe sympathized and supported dangerous people, that wished to take Scotland in a very different direction. I was recruited because they’re my uncles, Claire.” Jamie spoke hurriedly, eager to unveil it all and unburden himself. “Brothers to my mother. For years my father kept me away from them, not trusting their morals nor their intentions. When I allegedly fell in disgrace from service, they were only happy to take me in.”

“Your family – uncles -” I babbled, surprised beyond coherence.

“Aye.” He paced close to the window, to gather himself, before returning to the desk. “But even after these years I still couldna get their complete trust. They see my father when they look at me, I believe – how incorrupt and upstanding he was. Dougal is verra apprehensive of letting me anywhere near their secrets. But ye might have the perfect way in, Sassenach.” Jamie looked at me – there was concern there, but also something warmer, that might have been affection. “Colum has pycnodysostosis. It’s a gruesome disease and it’s verra advanced now – he has a personal doctor to tend him at all times, because the pain is sae great.” He tapped his finger on the photograph of his uncle, with his small jaw and prominent nose, betraying the abnormally dense bone, so brittle under his solemn face. “His previous doctor mysteriously disappeared – and so it happens he needs a new one.”

N.A. - From now on Broken Crown will be scheduled to post Wednesday and Sunday!

Nightmare // Sehun

Mortal enemies accidentally showing up in matching costumes every fucking year.

// Halloween Prompt #1
// Slightly suggestive but not really


“You’re happier than usual,” Yumi shouts from behind her sheer ninja mask and over the fervent music playing in the club. A bloodthirsty vampire wearing a ragged, sleeveless dress shirt dances alongside her. He’s practically thirsting for something else as his plastic fangs glide against her neck with strong, veined arms curving around her waist. She welcomes his advances with her hand entwining into his bed of unruly hair.

They’re in their own little world and my benevolence is in parallel to theirs. My body jumps and sways to the entrancing beats as I answer her with words conveying how happy I truly feel. “I am!” I exclaim. The cranberry vodka she shared with me earlier aids in fueling the adrenaline as the addictive drink trickles through my system. 

She raises her brows at me, “Does it have to do with Sehun?”

“This time—yes, yes it does.”

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Can't believe she tried this on me

TDLR at bottom it might get long

So last night it was super busy, i had just started my 2-10 closing shift on till so I had to throw myself into the job asap when I got there. Not a big deal, I love working customer service most of the time. About an hour in, I get this elderly woman who walks up to my till with one of my stores bags (which always means they have a return for us which takes forever especially since old people usually refuse to give us their information). The convo went like this:
Me: Hi there! Return?
OL: Yes, I have the receipt in the bag here.
Me: (I look through the bag and notice she’s trying to return 2 solar lights- that both came from separate packs of 3) Okay just so we’re on the same page how did you want this return to go today?
OL: well I would like to return these as they did not work and I would like my money back.
At this point I realized she’s trying to tell me to return these 2 individuals for the full price of the packs of 3. Not happening. So I had to call my manager.
M: (after I had explained the situation) sorry Ma'am but unless you bring back one more so we can refund you for one pack I can’t accept this return
OL: but the others worked and these 2 didn’t. Can’t you just take one out of a package here and put it with mine so I can return it?
M: absolutely not. I’m not damaging a product we could have sold for full price so we can give you a return. If you want to return these 2 you will have to go home and get one more for us to be able to give you back your money.

I was silently laughing so hard, the look on this woman’s face while she was trying to comprehend that we just weren’t going to give her her money back just because she wanted it.

TDLR: old woman tried to mess with our return system, grumbled when she found out that she couldn’t.

The Princess and the Slave

I’ve seen a lot of “Happy AUs” that never, ever address the issue of class. However, I think class is the most significant social obstacle that Anakin and Padme would face in such a scenario. In the Fireplace Scene Padme brings up how she is a Senator and Anakin is a Jedi Padawan. Those are the most immediate concerns. If their relationship gets out, he could be expelled, and she would lose all credibility in the Senate. This is concerning for a couple of reasons: She and Anakin leaving their jobs might hurt the citizens of the Republic, and, from Padme’s perspective, Anakin’s young, might not know what he wants, and may resent leaving the Jedi Order for her. Hence, “I will not let you give up your future for me.” Nevertheless, if or when their relationship comes out, these concerns will eventually blow over. Anakin will leave the Order; Padme will leave the Senate, and the couple will find a new normal. What will not fade though is the public scrutiny of high-ranking royalty, like Padme, being married to an illegitimate, former slave of unknown paternity. 

There is clearly a class structure on Naboo. Yes, the monarchs are chosen democratically, but it is also a monarchy. Padme is not the president or the Prime Minister. She is the Queen. The monarchs elected come from one of the various royal house on Naboo. It’s not what most would call equal opportunity. Padme is able to become a queen at the tender age of fourteen, because she was specifically groomed for politics from a young age. She was raised as such, because she was born royal. Such a system of royal houses, all trading favours, and having formal or informal alliances, and all hoping to influence the current of the next monarch necessitates that there be ties between prominent families. For instance, it is hinted at in the Queen Amidala journal that there is fostering between families.  It’s not surprising. A lot of cultures used to raise children from other families, and give their children to be raised by other families to encourage strong ties, or to diminish the risk of conflict via leverage, or even to prevent spoiling a child. However, the most common means of keeping such political, social, and economic ties in such systems is marriage, often arranged marriage. 

We have examples of this in Legends material. Padme’s parents were in fact part of an arranged marriage. They were, however, amenable to the decision as they were childhood friends. Despite the Western impression that arranged marriages are oppressive, and often cruel, even non-consensual, that is not usually the case. (Not that it doesn’t happen.) Most cultures that have arranged marriages introduce potential spouses as children, and encourage friendships between them. In this manner, when the girls are old enough to marry, they are encouraged to accept a proposal from someone whom they know, and of whom both families approve. In such situations, “falling in love,” is nonsense, and “passion” is something that doesn’t last, a fairy tale, often a negative one, told to children. What matters is if you can commit to this person, find companionable, and comfortable love for one another, and do your duty by your family. Essentially, that you just need to be able to get along with the other person, and live contently enough with them. That was the preferred definition of love. The most important things is: “Is it a smart match?” Marrying, because you “fell in love,” is a shockingly modern phenomenon, and one that was once met with deep skepticism. If nothing else, it gets in the way of duty and politics, after all, if you run off with the farmer’s son. It also give the lower classes ideas above their station.

In the deleted scenes of AoTC, we see Padme’s mother fret over Padme saying, “When are you going to settle down?” It could just be the fussing of a worried mother, but Ruwee puts a stop to it, which suggests that this is an old argument, one Padme doesn’t care for. If one reads the novelisation, Padme’s sister, Sola, nags her about it as well before she leaves for Coruscant to vote against the Military Creation Act. She says Padme has convinced herself the Republic cannot survive without her, and that most people who had been in service as long as she would have retired by now, and started a family. Padme insists that what she is doing is important. It’s clear that Padme is comfortable and familiar with politics, and feels deeply uncertain in leaving it behind. We also know from the deleted scenes, and the novel, that she had expected to have a family by now. Padme wants children, really wants them, but she’s not willing to marry just to have them. In fact, the only thing she’s interested in are the kids. “My sister had the most amazing, wonderful children.” The marriage though, likely arranged, gives her pause, but clearly is also an expectation of her: One she avoids discussion of at all cost. She doesn’t want to talk about “settling down,” even if being a mother is appealing. She’s getting to the point where marriage is being discussed, and it is becoming a pressure on her. It is expected…but only to the right person, to foster the right ties. She doesn’t want it though, if it’s not on her terms, if she doesn’t feel right about it. Padme is a doer, not a pontificator. I imagine she’s nervous about marrying a man who might stifle her. Therefore, when the Queen asks her to be senator, she agrees, over the objections of her family. In some ways, I would argue it is an escape for her. All she’s known is politics most of her life; it’s familiar and she enjoys the act of service to her people. It’s what she knows. If she’s going to leave that behind to marry, she needs to believe whoever it is is worth her time. Thus, Padme is very torn between what she wants, and what is expected  of her in AoTC. That’s even before you throw in Anakin.

When Anakin arrives in her life, it doubles the conflict. Now, it is not merely a matter of a familiar and fulfilling career of politics, versus the pressures of an uncertain marriage.  Now, it is a career in politics versus a scandalous relationship with a man she desires, but of whom nobody would approve, (unless it was a discreet fling no one would ever mention just to get the youthful foolishness “out of her system.” Then she could focus on a nice, proper, and respectable relationship with someone suitable.) When Padme turns Anakin down, she cites the immediate concerns that the relationship would raise, but there are several long-term ones as well: Most people on Naboo would not look kindly on her falling in love with, and then acting on said dangerous emotions to marry a commoner, and a foreign one at that. Even if the Republic never fell, even if Anakin and Padme got to raise their kids in peace, there would be a fall-out from that, and you can bet that it would be the longest lasting scandal to arise from their relationship: How dare Padme marry beneath her station? We really do need to stop applying our modern Western mindsets onto Naboo and the GFFA in general. There are thousands of planets with thousands of languages and cultures that will affect how they act, what they do, and how they perceive the world around them. I wish this aspect of Padme and Anakin, the class divide and the social expectations they faced, was more acknowledged. 

@intherustlinggrassihearhimpass here’s another one on culture, if it interests you!

ETA: Just to foreshadow the kind of opposition they might oppose from the worst of the traditionalists, Quarsh Panaka gave Palpatine information on Anakin and Padme’s  marriage in the EU, when he found about it, because he was so horrified by it. Meanwhile, his nephew, Typho, was in love with Padme, but never did anything about it, because he felt it  was inappropriate to try and cross the class barrier. I can only imagine what he thought about Anakin.

Shameless - Tom Holland x Actor!Reader

this is a one-shot based off the song “shameless” by all time low (one of the best bands in the world, fyi). the reader is also gender/race/age/sexuality neutral – I don’t know who reads these, but I aim to be as inclusive as possible. 

it is directly based on the line: you talk like you’re famous // you’re shameless

bet y’all weren’t anticipating this – happy new year!!!!!!!! 

comments, feedback, requests: all welcome, all adored.

thank you for everything :) x


In a perfect world, Tom was still dating Y/N. In a perfect world, they are living together, sharing an apartment (maybe), and they have a dog and they have cutlery and china and all that fancy stuff. In a perfect world, they would still be America’s new “it” couple.

But sadly, perfect worlds don’t exist and Tom and Y/N broke up 3 months ago. 

And Tom would like to say he isn’t angry or that he isn’t kind of bitter about the whole situation – he understands that people grow apart and break up, etc – but the way Y/N handled the breakup made it seem like it wasn’t even real. Tom was angry because you made it seem like you took complete advantage of the breakup and boosted your image, while Tom was left sobbing on his sofa for a week. 

And Tom wishes he could say he doesn’t know anything about ‘fake Hollywood relationships’ – but that would make him a very big liar. He’s guilty of those, too – promoting a movie sometimes comes with having to go out to dinner with someone you shared the screen with. Sometimes you have to use those 'coincidentally borderline romances’ to have people talk about you and your movie. He knows that sometimes people will be in mutually-understood relationships like that – but he doesn’t understand why it feels like he was left in the dark about this one.

You dated for 10 months before you decided to call it quits – he knew that it was your decision to break-up (Tom thought things were going really well for you at the time – he even thought about getting a puppy with you in the new year) and everything just seemed to throw him off-guard. 

What with the chatter about your new movie coming out and the talk about you finally being nominated for an Oscar, you were set to have a crazy year – and you never mentioned to Tom anything about needing some time or needing a breather or needing anything really. You had spent the last two months of your relationship talking about how you and Tom were going to look like some high school juniors going to prom – you made jokes about Tom appearing like a trophy husband as you walked the red carpet. Everything was great – up until it wasn’t. 

Then things became confusing and terrible – you were pissed about things that didn’t need much attention; you were upset all the time and Tom tried to help but you always pushed him away; you were always trying to keep everyone away at arms-length. Tom wishes he could say he didn’t care or that he wasn’t hurt, but that would diminish everything he felt during those last couple of weeks. 

Everything he did suddenly became “the problem” of the relationship – staying too close or being too far away and he was suddenly the one trying to ruin the relationship. So when Tom finally suggested doing something about it – whilst holding pamphlets for couple’s therapy – that’s when you decided to call it quits. And that’s when you left.

And promo for your new movie started that same weekend. 


“So, Y/N, how is the single life treating you?” some snobby looking reporter asked.

“It’s good yeah – finally getting some time to myself. Been polishing some stuff up for my new book – I’m really glad I’ve got a great fanbase backing me! Things have been really incredible these last few months.” You tried to smile politely and you were hoping your discomfort wasn’t present in your tone of voice.

“Well, obviously one of the biggest questions we’ve had since the breakup is 'why?’” He smiled.

“It was just like all other breakups really… We just drifted apart – wanted different things – everything ended amicably, though." 

"So, no bad blood then?”

You smiled tightly, “No, no bad blood.”

When the short interview was over (your last of the batch), you posed one final time for the cameras. Considering you weren’t very well-known still, you figured they should have had enough photos of you by now. You smiled – your camera smile of course – and then thanked everyone and walked to the end of the red carpet with your head slightly bowed. 

You were definitely trying to keep your mind clear of all distractions at the moment – you didn’t need to be nervous about other things along with your nervousness for the movie premier. 

You caught up with one of your castmates – although you had never been part of a major movie production before this, you knew that it was normal to feel anxious about how the critics would review the film. All your other roles – all for smaller, amateur films (mostly done by your friends back home) – had never been anywhere near the scale this film had been at. Shooting on location – in Greenland of all places! – had made you very perceptive and had given you loads of experience for any other roles you were hoping of getting. You had even auditioned for a Nolan film last week – you’re also pretty sure you nailed it – if the writers’ reaction was anything to go by.

“Hey Y/N. How’re you doing?” Your castmate Alfred Enoch asked as you began moving towards the giant screening hall. “Press treat you all right out there?” He laughed his big belly laugh and wrapped an arm around you, squeezing your left shoulder lightly. 

“They’re animals!” you joked lightly. “All of them!” Considering you shared a considerable amount of screen time with Alfred, it was nice to be reunited outside of the set. You laughed at Alfred’s laugh and continued to walk to your seats, near the front of the theater

“Well,” he said, “let’s hope they got what they wanted.” You smiled and took your seat next to him. 


BREAKING NEWS: ALFRED ENOCH AND NEWCOMER Y/N Y/L/N, A THING?

DID Y/N LEAVE TOM HOLLAND HANGING IN THE SPIDER WEBS?

Y/N AND ALFRED: HOW THEY WERE KEEPING WARM IN GREENLAND (EXCLUSIVE)

     Just when you thought Hollywood couldn’t get any shadier – newcomer Y/N Y/L/N has managed to do some really gritty stuff. The youngster has managed to create more chatter on the web when they were recently seen getting cozy with co-star Alfred Enoch at their movie premiere last night. The two, who according to sources, were inseparable in Greenland – and it seems the magic continues to follow them. Look at the pictures from last night, here.

And remembering that it was Tom who got Y/N the audition for this movie, and ultimately the role, is Tom to thank for this new couple? 

     What are your thoughts on this new couple? Think Alfred was the reason for the Tom/Y/N breakup? Let us know in the comments below!


@YourTwitterHandle: Can’t believe people take a moment between friends and decide to flip it around

@YourTwitterHandle: Alfred and I have been friends since we started filming – insane to think that friendships are suddenly romantic relationships as soon as someone hugs someone else

@YourTwitterHandle: Anyways – go watch our movie in theaters now!


[@tomholland2013: has posted a new photo!]

tomholland2013: “you talk like you’re famous, you’re shameless”


He picked up on the third ring. 

“Hello, darling. How might I be of service?" 

"I know your Instagram caption was aimed at me, you shady asshole.” You were absolutely fuming – Tom did not have any right to attack you, especially through an Instagram caption.

“I’m great! Thank you so much for asking – how are you?” He spoke in a condescending manner.

“Cut the shit, Holland.” You didn’t want his sassy bullshit. “I want to know what you were trying to say and I want you to tell me what your problem is.”

“My problem?!” You could tell that he was no longer playing the coy card. “My problem is that everything I ever did was to help you – that movie role was my doing. That book deal was me too.” He was definitely not messing around anymore. “A large percentage of your "fanbase” comes from me – so that’s my fucking problem.“

"So you’re mad that I went and stole some of your fans – is that your problem?!”

“My problem…” He sighed deeply, almost trying to hold back emotion. “My problem is – I did so much for you – nearly ruined my own credibility as an actor – so that you could star in a film when no one knew who you were. I got someone on my team to get publishers to call you. I did so much for you – I fucking created you – and you act like you did it all without me. Without any help.” He mumbled a bit but continued. “You honest to God, talk like you’re famous. Like you built this on your own – but you didn’t. That’s my problem with you right now." 

”…“ You were left without any words. "I di– I didn’t thank you, di-did I?”

“…No, you didn’t.”

“Tom… Tommy…” You could hear his anger slowly dissipating. 

“I’m the worst person in the entire universe…” You sat down on the nearest flat surface and thought about all the months following the audition. “I didn’t thank you – and you did so much for me.”

“No, Y/N… You don’t have to say anything.” You could hear him shuffling stuff around on the other end. “I didn’t mean that I wanted you to feel bad or anything – I was just spewing shit because I was angry. I’m so sorry darling." 

"Tom,” you were nearly whispering into the phone. “I’m so, so incredibly sorry.” Tears were falling from your eyes, but you wiped them as they fell. “I– I didn’t even thank you… I’m such a horrible person Tommy – I’m sorry I never told you how thankful I was…”

You heard Tom try to say something, but you continued talking.

“I was selfish and I never thanked you for everything you did for me. You did so much– and I broke up with you because I was stupidly in love with you – and you were angry throughout the whole thing because of me.”

Tom inhaled and sniffled, “You loved me?" 

"Yes…” you whispered.

“I loved you, too.” He laughed a bit, “Fuck– I still love you.”

You sighed and Tom took that as his cue to continue, “I shouldn’t have said that – I’m sorry. You and Alfred are probably trying to keep things low key and I’m over here ruining everything again." 

"You didn’t ruin anything – ever, Tom.” You hesitated for a second before you continued. “And I’m not dating Alfred or anyone else for that matter.”

“That’s, that’s good – or well, I mean, unfortunate for you. I mean, that’s– that’s if you even wanted to date anyone anyways…”

You laughed at him, feeling good about how naturally awkward Tom tended to be when he was trying to be nonchalant. “Don’t hurt your pretty little head, Tom. I get what you meant.”

“You think my head is pretty?”

“The prettiest.” You smiled and imagined Tom rubbing his hand over the back of his head – which was exactly what he was doing when you said that.

“Thanks,” you could feel his shy small radiating through the phone. “Well… I guess you’ve gotta go get stuff done…”

“Yeah…” You didn’t want to hang up, but you had a plane to catch soon. “Hey, Tom?”

“Yeah?” You hoped you weren’t imagining how hopeful he sounded.

“I miss you…”

“I miss you.”

You smiled and figured things would be okay. 

“We should meet up soon – you know, in the new year and stuff…” You bit your lip.

“I…. I definitely agree… New year, new us, right?”

You laughed, “You’re a dork, Holland.”

He laughed too, “I’ll see you soon, then, yeah?”

“Yeah – bye, Tommy.”

"Bye, Y/N. Happy new year.

"Happy new year.”


ARE THEY OR AREN’T THEY: TOM AND Y/N RECLAIM THE TITLE AS THE NEW IT COUPLE

JEALOUSY, MISUNDERSTANDINGS, MISCOMMUNICATION: HOW TOM AND Y/N GOT BACK TOGETHER

ALFRED ENOCH THIRD WHEELS TOM AND Y/N AT THE BEACH, HOW THEY ALL BECAME FRIENDS

2017: 'WE’RE HAPPY AND TOGETHER, THAT’S ALL THAT MATTERS’ HOW Y/N IS MAKING THIS HER YEAR

    “One of the greatest things to happen to me this year is getting back together with Tom [Holland]. We finally figured out how to get things done, how to be independent, while still being in a relationship. I’m forever thankful for his love and his support.” said the youngster about Spider-Man. 

Considering we’ve seen Y/N’s humbleness through all recent award nominations, we’re sure they’ve managed to gain a new perspective post-breakup. What are your thoughts on their rekindling? 


[@tomholland2013: has posted a new photo!]

tomholland2013: waiting for my person to get home from filming like… @YourInstagramHandle, hurry up!

I think it needs to be clarified that having a preference for a ship dynamic and/or liking yaoi aren’t inheritly bad.

You’re all free to like things so long as you understand the difference between reality and fiction.

It’s not bad to like yaoi. Yaoi is just another form of hentai. What’s bad is to see actual gay people as your fetish. It’s bad to see gay men as a “sinful pleasure”. You should simply know that yaoi is a fictional manga genre with its tropes and stereotypes, and therefore it doesn’t reflect reality.

It’s not bad to have a preference for a dynamic in a ship. Even straight ships have different dynamics and shippers might prefer one or another. It’s a matter of POV.

What’s bad is to claim your POV is more valid because of harmful stereotypes.

What’s bad is to believe there’s a girl and a boy in a gay relationship. You can always ship actual straight ships if you want that.

Just respect others and your preferences will be respected.

anonymous asked:

hello. you don't know me, i know that, but Dev, i need to ask. have you ever had to collect the soul of someone who killed themselves? where did you send them? sorry, i'm not to right in the head at the moment, but i was hoping i could at least hear from you of Darl.

This may be selfish of me, but I can’t humor you in this. I can’t tell you what you want to hear - The implications in this ask genuinely worry me and to think someone might be thinking those sorts of thoughts and I responded by hiding behind a cartoon character… I’d never be able to live with myself if I did that. 

I’m not going to insult your intelligence by playing along, or by pretending I’m in any way qualified to talk about this with anyone. I’ve been struggling with depression for over thirteen years of my adult life, and there have been a few times it’s gotten… Well, it’s gotten very bad. I’m still here, and even I’m not entirely sure how some days. So please believe me when I say I’m not the person to talk to for this sort of thing. 

There are services out there, people who have more experience, and are trained to talk you through this sort of thing. No matter how close you might be or if you’re just… Thinking. They’re not judgemental. They’ll listen, and they’ll talk as much or as little as you might need. 

Tumblr has a great collection of resources for folks who need someone to talk to. 

I don’t know where you’re from Nonny or I’d make a more concrete suggestion, I’m sorry. If anyone else has any links to non-judgemental resources I would most certainly welcome them in the reblogs. Thanks guys. 

- Fara

The Barn 6

[part1][part2][part3][part4][Part5][Here]

Madara took the couch and Sakura woke before all of them, when it was dark and there was still fog from the sea spreading far and thin over the world for as far as she could see.

Sakura stood outside in her nightgown, unable to feel the cold or the damp touch of the morning air. She felt like she didn’t fit inside her body. Her body was one shape, her mind another, and her soul a third completely unique shape. Nothing fit. She was out of alignment and she needed to figure out a way to hide it or ignore it well enough to get on with her life before the fog burned away.

The sun wouldn’t wait for her. The world wouldn’t wait for her either. The demons stirring would have to be put on hold for another daybreak.

So, Sakura built that wall up high in her mind and layered it thick then thicker. She closed her eyes and stepped into the fog barefoot. When she came back her toes were nearly blue but the ghosts were a little further.

‘That’ll do,’ she thought to herself before letting herself back into the barn where the rest of her new friends continued to sleep.

Konan rolled over in bed and cracked open an eye as Sakura prepared a simple breakfast, but didn’t wake enough to roll out of bed. Not a sound could be heard from the loft, and Madara was an unmoving lump.

Sakura waved to Konan, even though the blue haired woman had buried her face back in the pillows and didn’t see the motion. Sakura typed in her code for the day and closed the door behind her.

Hours later Sakura clipped together another stack of graded scantrons and closed out of the grade book program on her computer. It glitches, started to stall, and then proceeded to flash the ‘program not responding’ sign. Sakura held her breath and prayed it didn’t do the dick thing and lose all her grades just as she went to save and close out of the program.

The program loaded, circling and circling until it flashed a new pop up and closed out peacefully. Sakura sighed in relief. She had over two hundred students, and while those grades were only for maybe 40 or so, it would have been a bitch to re-enter them.

“At least this is a problem I can solve,” she muttered out loud, rubbing the skin under her eyes. “Thank God for the mundane things in life.”

“Is that really something worth wasting your breath on?”

Sakura paused in her recline and turned slowly, eyes narrowed cautiously at the figure darkening her cubicle doorway.

“Sorry,” Sakura drawled. “No consultations without prior appointments. You should have called ahead.”

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