i get it from

let’s talk about aron.

because I’m in my emo mood, but let’s talk about aron.

i’ve been in this fandom for the 5th year now (i joined post hello era) and in some ways, i’ve felt like I’ve not only just watch these boys grew up, but grew up along them. so, let’s talk about aron. i was an aron stan before i truly knew it - i just liked how he seemed so fun-loving and derpy, how he can sing and rap and writes his own lyrics.

and what really sealed the deal for me was him on radio with music access. it’s not the most stellar of his records - we all knew about the past that haunt him till this date. but this post isn’t about that because it’s long over. for those that had never, ever heard music access, you wouldn’t know how much the radio meant to international fans. aron not only hosted the most successful radio show in arirang that he got an article written about him connecting international fans to kpop during his stint, he also helped to build this community known as music access family.

loves who tuned in from all over the world sort of knew each other, some closer to others as they’ve interacted. i kept to myself more, so i don’t really know others, but i remember hearing certain names from different regions, seeing certain ids over and over again. and aron does too, because he might not have seen our faces, but he remembered our stories if you write in to him enough. he remembered the time he name a pet or the time you’ve met a slump, he gave words of encouragement to people who felt like they’ve hit a wall, he made us laugh at some of the silliest things.

there were moments where you can tell that he’s not in the mood, that he’s sick and he’s tired, but aron is human and we know that. so we appreciate even more the effort he tries to keep focus on the show. and he has helped so. many. people in ways that people don’t seem to realise.

aron lost a ton of fans after his supposed controversy, and as an aron bias, this hurts a lot. it hurts a lot because we see how his apologies are buried over by sheer hate; we see how a man so confident and straightforward has changed for the better but ignored and dragged on for months, even now. it hurts because we know - he knows - that no matter what, this thing has stained his history and there’s no turning back.

and yet, at the same time, we have taken steps forward. aron’s changed a lot. but him appreciating fans a lot is not new. in many fancams you can see how aron interact with loves, and how he make his rounds during fanmeeting to shake as many hands as possible. someone i knew said that she missed out on a high touch with aron during a fanmeet, but aron rounded back on his way to the stage; personally, i’ve see them twice in real life going down the stage to greet fans and twice, aron has impressed me how thorough he is with high touch or greeting them.

it’s the reason im an aron bias, after all.

aron always had very little korean fans, and even lesser fansites. a lot of his old fansites ceased operations, not because they disliked him, but because real life has taken over. a fansite i knew stopped because they wanted to focus on their career. another left the country. and then…for what seemed like close to a year or two, we had to look at aron through previews of other members. on some days, it felt like aron wasn’t there - he’s cut away from the previews or only an arm’s showing in the next; his face was blurred and there were none of his personal photos.

it got to the point where other member fansites posted photos of aron because there was none if they didn’t, because they wanted to help their fellow friends and fansitemasters who weren’t able to make it to the event. and we cherished it, all aron-stans. for every preview we had, we cried in joy, hyping it in our social media and kakao chats. we’re glad to see a photo of his full outfit, because most of the time, an arm or a leg or part of the back of his head is all we got.

( and even then, we told ourselves that we were lucky, because at least we knew the color of the shirt he wore. )

and it hurts too, frankly speaking. i’ve shed tears over this because of how more aron seemed to be hidden away and invisible. i’ve pondered why my bias doesn’t seem likeable to others when i firmly believed otherwise. i wondered, worried, if aron actually knew?

and i think he does. because he tries.

“i’d work on my korean.” “thank you for coming” “i’d try to post in the fancafe more often” “thank you for cheering on me too”

you’ve heard him said the last sentence in their last fanmeeting as nuest w, but did you know he’s pretty much been saying it since forever?

but now…im glad. there are more and more aron fansites again, and ice tea nim even came back briefly. for all the slumps we’ve witness aron gone through, to seeing his tears on their first win, we’re truly, truly happy for him. because now people are loving him as a member of the group, and people are willing to learn about him.

and most importantly, they knew what he said and they acknowledged his apology, and they’re giving him a second chance like how they’re giving nu’est a second chance, and it’s in this that i cannot be more grateful about. because i don’t think aron - or the boys - are perfect, but they aren’t as mean or an asshole as some people make them out to be, and they learn and matured and poured in their hard work time and time again to be who they are today.

words just can’t describe how proud i am, and glad to know that they’re accepting aron as he is, his changed self and his derpy self, his smart caring self and his hardworking self.

so yes, let’s talk about aron, because he deserves to be loved as a member of nu’est too. and thank you, to every love out there, who may not like him (yet) but at least given him a chance.

as an aron stan, thank you, for giving him a reason not to regret staying for his dream, for his brothers and fellow loves. this boy gave up new york university and was apart from his family members, coming to seoul alone when he speak none of the language nor understand the culture and it would never have been easy. but now, i think, at least he wouldn’t leave with any regrets years down the road.

so, thank you. ; u ;

I’m thinking of coming out to my parents today. I mean, they kinda already know from various factors like I told my mom over the phone when I was upset so idk if she understood exactly, and my dad once brought it up and I was like yeah haha maybe thats my orientation idk. So yeah I never actually sat them down and explained it to them even tho they kinda already know. Wish me luck, probably shoulda done this on coming out day but hey it’s asexual awareness week so thats second best i guess.

Hey, @therealjacksepticeye thought i’d give you a heads up

Some of the ultimates in South Park the fractured but whole are a bit… scandalous. And rather sexy. Theres full frontal nudity there i said it. Particularly in some of the later stages of the game. Theres a pretty big chance this game is gonna get age restricted no matter what. You might have a better shot just streaming some of the game instead

It’s all started by a photograph in the society pages.

The night before, Lockwood and Co had been the guests of honor at a commemorative event celebrating the decline of the Problem. It’s one year to the day from the fall of Fittes House, though most of London is still—and likely will forever be—completely in the dark regarding what actually happened there. The Problem isn’t solved yet, but things are getting better every day, and as far as London is concerned, they have Lockwood and Co to thank for that.

And what better way to say thank you than to throw a gala?

Very late the next morning, and still in his pajamas for once, Lockwood is relaxing over the paper and thinking back over what he considers to be a successful, enjoyable evening. His company is getting the recognition it deserves, the recognition he’d always known they would get, but his professional satisfaction pales in comparison to the deep-rooted contentment and pleasure he’d found in spending an evening with Lucy Carlyle on his arm.

Keep reading

Look at this VERY GOOD BOY!

We sat down for dinner, and Bruno walks over and patiently sits on his pillow without being asked. He knows he gets treats for going to “settle”, and since there wasn’t a bed or mat to lay on he figured a pillow would do. Oh boy do I love this dog.

anonymous asked:

I"m just getting caught up on LoT and I really enjoy your blog and after Mick's awkward flirting with Kara I feel like if he ever met Diana/Wonder Woman, he'd be too awkward to flirt and just stare and bring her food. Like 'youfightgood, madeyouasandwich' and then take off

hahahahahah omg.

We talk sometimes about how Len canonically has a crush on Wonder Woman in the comics, but I think you’re totally right. DCTV Mick would be into her. He’s absolutely got a thing for powerful women, especially (it seems) mature ones closer to his age (e.g., the President, and Agent Sharpe), and more physically aggressive ones? So… 100%. Yes. 

Dammit, now I want to see this happen.

prompt fill for anonymous who said: Soooo…how did Robert get that scar?!?!??!

“Just leave it, Joe.”

Joseph frowns, still tracing a gentle finger over the prominent scar cutting an impressive line between Robert’s pectoral muscles. They’re lounging in the half-light that is Robert’s bedroom at dusk. Robert’s smoking his fourth post-coital cigarette, despite Joseph’s disapproval (“It’s my room, sweetcheeks. You’re free to leave.”), and neither of them have made any attempt at getting redressed. Joseph needs to get home, knows his kids are going to be asking after him, that Mary will be getting anxious to head out for the night, but he can’t quite bring himself to leave, not now that he’s finally worked up the courage to ask about Robert’s mark.

“Is it something completely embarrassing?” he tries again, voice light. “Like, I have a scar on my knee from giving Chris a horsey ride around the backyard and crawling right over top of -”

“Stop,” Robert interrupts, and his tone is such that Joseph doesn’t need to be told twice. “It’s not cute or funny or anecdotey. I don’t want to talk about it, okay? Fucking drop it.” He sits up from his reclined position, dislodging Joseph where he’d been propped up against his chest.

Joseph lets himself be pushed to the side, lets Robert roll his way out of bed, watches him stalk to the en suite and shut the door firmly between them. Light filters out from under the door, too bright in the once-comfortable gloom. Joseph hears the water running, what sounds like Robert washing his face. He shifts onto his back with a sigh, cursing himself for pushing it. If there’s one thing he knows about Robert after all these years, it’s that he doesn’t like to be pushed.

But Joseph also knows that, after all these years, he’s earned a little bit of pushiness, damn it. He’s been there enough, shown up enough, proven himself enough to deserve Robert’s trust. Joseph doesn’t understand why he’s still so closed off, after everything. After what they are to each other. Joseph trusts Robert with his life. Literally because one word to the wrong person could see Joseph’s carefully constructed sham of a marriage crumbling at his feet. But he trusts Robert to keep his secrets. The fact that Robert doesn’t feel the same is a source of endless frustration and anxiety. If Robert doesn’t see this as a relationship, one where trust and communication are key, then what are they even doing? What is Joseph even doing here?

The bathroom door creaks open before Joseph can get up and gather his things in a fit of crippling doubt. Robert stands in the frame, still naked as the day he was born, backlit, but Joseph can see the regretful furrow of his brow.

“Still here, huh?” he says, lowly, but there’s no harshness to his voice now. Joseph recognizes the chagrin that always colors his words after one of his outbursts. He smiles softly, shrugging, and it’s enough of an invitation for Robert to slide back in the bed, farther away than before but still present. He’d left the light on in the bathroom, and it spills across the room through the ajar door.

Joseph watches Robert’s eyes, a washed out brown in the artificial light. Robert is brushing ash from the sheets, shaken loose by his abrupt departure. At least he’d remembered to stub the cigarette out on his way. What he’s really doing is avoiding Joseph’s gaze, but Joseph has four kids. He’s familiar with the tactic. And he’s always been too patient for his own good.

Eventually, Robert blows out a breath, reaching across the space between them to take Joseph’s elbow, pulling him close. Joseph considers resisting, on principle, but he never wants to miss a chance to be near Robert. They settle much like they were before, Joseph’s head tucked against Robert’s neck, Robert’s arm behind his shoulders. Joseph keeps his hands to himself, for now, punishing Rob a little. He didn’t miss how this position gives Robert an excuse not to meet his eyes. He doesn’t speak, either. There’s no need to make this too easy on Robert.

“Sorry,” Robert finally mutters, low enough that Joseph could ignore it. Robert probably wants him to. But after all this time, he knows better than to expect Joseph to keep quiet about anything.

“I’m sorry, too,” Joseph says immediately, shifting so the words aren’t mumbled into Robert’s collarbone. “I know I’m a little pushy sometimes, but I can never get you to talk to me otherwise, Rob. And you know I only ask because I care about you, and I want to know things about you because I want to know you better, and I just wa-”

Robert closes a hand over his mouth, not ungently. Joseph rolls his lips together, swallowing the rest of his rambling. He gazes up at the side of Robert’s face, waiting.

“I don’t see how collecting useless facts about people’s past qualifies as knowing them,” Robert starts, pressing harder when Joseph tries to protest against his hand. “I think it’s enough that we know each other as we are now, without all the minutiae. But,” he says, louder, not giving in to Joseph’s huffs of displeasure, “I know knowing these things is important you. I don’t always like your asking about them, and I don’t always want to tell you, and I won’t always tell you, but I know you like to know. And it’s…nice. That you care enough to ask.”

The last words sound like they took everything in Robert to say, like he’d forced them past years of deep-set, ingrained reticence. Joseph rewards his effort with a kiss to his open palm, still resting against Joseph’s lips. Robert’s fingers twitch, but he doesn’t remove his hand.

“You wanted to know how I got the scar?” he checks, nodding back when Joseph bobs his head, movements kept small with the hand over his mouth. “Bike accident,” he says, then amends it when Joseph’s eyes go wide. “Not like motorcycle.” Robert sighs, closing his eyes. Joseph has given up wondering when he’s going to drop his hand. It seems to bring him some measure of comfort, knowing he can tell the story at his own pace without Joseph being able to interject. Joseph wonders how much he actually talks, that Robert feels the need to silence him. It might be time for a little self-reflection on the matter.

Robert is silent for a spell, breath syncing up with the soft exhalations Joseph breathes against the back of his hand. He smells like nicotine and the generic, dollar store hand soap he always keeps in the bathroom. It’s soothing.

“I took Val for a bike ride at the shitty, slummy park near our shitty, slummy house. She must have been like seven or eight.” Robert pauses, swallowing hard. Joseph can hear his heartbeat beneath his ear, nervous and uneven. He kisses Robert’s palm again, spreading his own against the expanse of Robert’s flat stomach. “I was wasted,” Robert grits out, years of guilt and regret lacing the words. “I was always wasted, back then.” He gives a short, humorless laugh, not robust enough to shift Joseph. “I guess it’s not too much different from now, except I couldn’t hold my liquor as well then. Definitely not well enough to watch a kid, steer a bike, and smoke. I was mostly focused on the cigarette,” he continues, bitterly. “Like, of all things. That was most important to me. Anyway, there was a big hill that lead down to the parking lot. Val liked to ride down there so we could have coasting contests, see who could go the longest without pedaling. We’d fuckin’ book it down that hill, then coast around the parking lot until one of us fell over.”

Robert’s voice sounds thick, rich with memory as much as emotion, and Joseph considers breaking away from the hand over his mouth to tell him it’s okay, he doesn’t have to go on. But now that he’s started, Robert seems determined to finish. He takes a couple shuddery breaths before he continues.

“I don’t even remember getting to the top of that hill, that’s how gone I was. I just remember being pissed at how windy it was that day. I couldn’t get my cigarette lit, and Val was needling me, trying to get me to hurry up. I,” Robert sounds angry now, at himself. At the world. “I yelled at her. Told her to stop being such a needy little shit. She started to cry, and I was frustrated, and was just like ‘fine! let’s go!’ and took off without her.” He shakes his head, and Joseph can see the tension in his jaw. “I was drunk, and mad, and only had one hand on the bike. It was a gravel path. I ate shit. Like, spectacularly. Fucked everything up. Concussion. Broken wrist. This,” he gestures to the scar, disgustedly. “Val had to ride home for help. Seven years old, had to ride home by herself to tell her mom that her drunken asshole of a dad was lying at the bottom of a hill, passed out and bleeding everywhere. She had to see that, you know? She had to see that and react to it and -” He stops again, jerking away from Joseph to sit at the edge of the bed, breathing hard and shaking just slightly.

Joseph sits up more slowly, missing the weight of his hand already. He follows Robert to the edge, kneeling up behind him. He slips his arms around his chest carefully, unsure of his welcome, but Robert leans back into his touch. Joseph lets out a breath, hooking his chin over Robert’s shoulder, hands clasped together over the identic scar.

“That was kinda the last straw as far as me and Marilyn were concerned,” Robert tells him, quietly. Joseph can’t help the questioning noise he looses, because he knows the two of them had stayed married until Marilyn’s death. “Had myself a situation a lot like yours,” Robert clarifies, hands coming up to close around Joseph’s arms, keeping him close. His thumbs slowly stroke the jut at the outside of Joseph’s wrists. “We stayed together but it wasn’t…we weren’t together. Not that I blame her.” Another humorless laugh. “I didn’t even deserve that. She should have left. Taken Val and never seen me again.”

“Rob,” Joseph starts, but Robert squeezes his wrists, tight. Joseph is tired of being silenced, but letting Robert get it all out is more important that Joseph getting a word in edgewise.

“So that’s the story of the scar. Glamorous as you were hoping?” Robert asks, but it isn’t really a question.

Joseph turns his head, resting his cheek on Robert’s shoulder, thinking. “I would have stuck with you, too,” Joseph tells him, quietly. Robert scoffs, and Joseph talks over him. “Listen, I can’t pretend to know why Marilyn did it. Why she stayed. But if she ever felt even close to the way I feel about you, and if she saw the person I see, under the booze and the self-destruction and the cynicism, then she had a reason for -”

Robert interrupts him again, but not with words. He takes a sobbing, shuddering breath, face turned away from Joseph. He drops the hands on Joseph’s arms to cover his face, scrubbing at his eyes roughly. Joseph sits up slightly, mortified but also strangely gratified at finally drawing some kind of emotional reaction out of Robert. He drops a kiss at the back of Robert’s neck, running both hands up through his hair, brushing it back from his forehead. Joseph kisses him again and again, the side of his neck, the shell of his ear, the crown of his head. Robert’s breath catches a few more times before finally evening out. He sighs explosively, leaning back into Joseph’s embrace again.

“I think I love you, you know that?”

Joseph closes his eyes, nose pressed to Robert’s smoke-scented hair. They breathe in unison for a while, sitting naked on the edge of Robert’s giant bed, yellow light warming their features.

“I know.”

anonymous asked:

Okay I really need to get this off my chest? Like? Me + the 5 other people in my class were just forced to watch Get Out? Y’know, the extremely violent horror movie with racism as its main theme? I get if they wanted us to learn about racism but we’re all literally 14. I just had a panic attack bc of that fucking movie and I had to comfort my BLACK bff who was so scared by the movie she sat and cried in the bathroom for an hour. This just pissed me off I’m sorry

why were u forced lmao what class was this even and don’t they have to issue permission slips to watch a movie like that in school? and is it that violent? aside from the ending of course i remember it being more tense than anything which is supposed to make you extremely uncomfortable…i guess that’s beside the point tho seeing as i’m not 14 so younger people might be more sensitive to that sort of stuff. to be fair it would be pretty jarring in an environment like that anyway lmao AGAIN WHY DID THEY MAKE YOU WATCH THIS IN SCHOOL… i really wanna know what class this was like why not just show the malcolm x biopic instead lmao. i loved get out but i also saw it in theatres which is where you’d get the full experience with everyone’s reactions and everything…if you’re into scary movies and have the choice of watching it or not of course, that’s the most important part. it just seems really weird that they’d show a horror movie in school at all regardless of its topic, relevant or not lmao

I’m dying over Jumin’s route everybody, I already spam my poor friends too much how dO I GET OUT MY FEELINGS RIGHT NOW???

tehrevving  asked:

Hypaa my darling, I'm writing a yandere!Ignis to accompany Addi's incredible fic. Would you like a teaser?

Oh holy shit fam

”I know this is a lot to take in,” and he smiled at you. “My name is Ignis. Do you think you could repeat it back for me?” he looked at you expectantly and there was some part of you that compelled you to speak, to say your first words since you had woken up in this nightmare. “Ignis.” The man’s eyes closed and fluttered in their sockets; he took in a sharp inhalation of breath and seemed to rock unsteadily on his feet. “Again,” he demanded.

Fucking hell, Rev, plz come help me retrieve the pieces of my ovaries that exploded all over the damn place due to just that snippet, both you and @eaddi out here wrecking my whole life with this impromptu yandere!chocobros series up in here