i haven't posted anything in a few days because i was gone

A Morning After: SnowBaz Fanfic
  • This is the only way I could post this without the formatting having weird symbols. I've contacted the help center for tumblr, but I haven't heard anything back yet. Sorry for this delayed fic and the inconvenience.
  • Request from so-many-lines for a rewritten after chapter 61. Hope this is what you wanted! I had fun writing this one. For the Nonny with the other request: that was the fic I was trying to post, but it got really bleh when I copied it. Sorry, but it's coming soon.
  • link to their blog- https: //so-many-lines.tumblr.com/
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  • Baz wakes like a grumpy old man, though I don’t know why I expected anything else. He cracks his back and groans in satisfaction, and I can’t help but stifle a snicker to myself. He reminds me so much of the runners of the many orphanages I spent my childhood in, waking up with dissatisfaction every morning and cracking their necks and backs before starting the day. Though, none of the heads of the orphanages kissed me silly before falling asleep in my arms.
  • I don’t really know what I’m supposed to expect this morning. The only place I’ve ever been kissed is my mouth, and Agatha never really wanted to kiss me anyways. I’m not even sure what my neck looks like now. I have the vague memories of Baz biting down and myself giggling at the ticklish sensation mixed with the strange feelings of…something stirring in my stomach.
  • Baz notices I’m awake and looks at me over his shoulders, yawning as he stares me down. I’m still flush against his couch, his plain shirt riding up to reveal the little patch of hair on my stomach that disappears into my boxers. I see his eyes trail across and over my body, and I smile sleepily as I stretch my arms above my head.
  • “You don’t just get to watch me,” I mutter, still stretching, “because we’re snogging.” Baz huffs out one of his indignant breaths and looks back over his shoulder away from me.
  • “Because we’ve snogged,” he corrects, rising from the couch and walking over to the door. He turns around to look at me and then reaches into his wardrobe, searching around for something before he throws a few articles of clothing at me. “Get dressed, Snow. The girls are coming over.” He exits the room before I can ask any questions and leaves me to dress myself. I stand slowly and shrug off his posh pajama pants before tugging on the trackies he threw at me. I turn around to the window to take my shirt off, and before I can slip the new one on, I hear the door open behind me.
  • I look over my shoulder to see Baz dragging in a whiteboard, his back turned to me. I chuckle quietly to myself, balling the shirt in front of me before turning and walking over to the board. Baz has taken a purple marker and is now making column labeled Everything we know and Everything we still don’t know. He hasn’t turned to look at me, and he’s writing things under the columns when I speak up.
  • “You know, we could figure this out without the girls.” He turns to look at me with what I assume was going to be a frown and a snappy remark, but he stops when he realizes I’m shirtless. He just swallows and turns back around, continuing to write things under the columns.
  • I place my hand over his on the board, messing up the word he was writing. He puts the marker down and turns to me, looking down with a heavy expression on. “Snow,” he begins, taking in a deep breath.
  • “Don’t tell me that this doesn’t mean anything,” I say, cutting him off and pressing closer to him. I bring my hands up to his chest and look up at him through my lashes. “I mean,” I begin, my voice dropping as I continue, “I know you wouldn’t have kissed me like that if it didn’t mean anything. I know how people kiss when they don’t mean it.”
  • “Snow,” Baz repeats, clearly trying to collect his thoughts. “You don’t even know if you’re gay.” I squint up at him and let out a laugh.
  • “I don’t need to be gay to know that I at least have somewhat of a liking towards you,” I retort, my hands beginning to curl into themselves. When he looks at me again like I’ve disappointed him, I let my hands drop. However, he catches one of them in his hand, and Baz presses his forehead against mine. It’s obvious that he’s as weak when it comes to me as I am when it comes to him. “Kiss me,” I whisper.
  • And he doesn’t object as he leans in and cups my neck with his hand. His lips move away from mine seconds later to kiss along my jaw and eventually my neck, and he begins to leaves small love bites instead. As my eyes roll closed and my head falls back, someone clears their throat. Baz is off of me in seconds and three feet away from me, and I turn with my hand to my neck where he just kissed me. My ears and cheeks are burning bright red, and I bring my other hand up to cool them. I hear Baz talking in hushed tones with someone, and then someone leaves the room. Baz comes up behind me and presses a longer, open-mouthed kiss to my neck before saying, “You should probably put a shirt on. I don’t want to jump you while the girls are here.”
  • He’s gone before I can even blush at that, and I quickly pull on the shirt I abandoned on the floor minutes before. The footsteps and voices from the hallway draw my attention to the door. It opens, and I see Baz again, but behind him are Agatha and Penny. Penny’s eyebrows draw together when she sees me, and I look down to avoid her eyes. Agatha and Baz are speaking to one another about something, and Penny sits down on the couch behind me. My hand is still covering my neck, and I look up to see Baz and Agatha staring at me.
  • “What?” I ask, a bit harsher than I meant to. Baz shakes his head and looks away.
  • “I’ll go get tea,” he announces, leaving the room with just me and the girls inside. Agatha walks over to me with a hard expression on her face.
  • “What the hell, Simon?” she demands, inches away from my face. “Why are you here?”
  • I look over to Penny for help, but she’s not looking at me. Her eyes are trained on the whiteboard behind me. She rises from her seat and walks by me, studying what Baz has written before adding something to one of the columns. She then turns to me and points at my arm. I sigh before letting my hand down, and Agatha’s quicker than Penny, though she’s wrong.
  • “Did he bite you in your sleep or something?” she demands, moving my head to get a better look at the bite marks there. “What the hell were you honestly thinking?” I pull back from her grip and turn around.
  • “It’s not that,” I mutter, walking once again toward the window. “It’s none of your business, okay? It’s nothing.” Baz walks in with the tea then, and by the fake smile on his face, I know he heard what I just said, but he completely ignores me.
  • Hours later, when I’ve escaped the prying eyes of Penny and Agatha and the horrid ride away from Baz’s mansion, I’m standing in Baz’s room uncomfortably, and he’s purposely looking away from me. The awkward dinner we just sat through is over, but he still hasn’t said anything other than what he did in the foyer about two hours ago.
  • I walk over to his bed and sit down on the edge by his feet, swallowing thickly before speaking. “I didn’t mean what I said to the girls earlier today.” Baz frowns at his pantleg and picks at a crease in his dress pants, still not looking at me. I stand and walk up to where he is, walking back to where he’s sitting and sitting down beside him.
  • He raises his eyebrows seemingly to himself and huffs out a breath. “Of course, you didn’t,” he responds, his voice teetering on the edge of anger and sarcasm. He looks up at me with a painfully neutral expression and smiles sickly sweet. “Why would you?” he asks. I look away from him and draw my bottom lip in between my teeth. “I mean, it’s not like moments before we were doing something the Westboro Baptist Church would kill us for.”
  • I look back at him with my jaw clenched and an angry expression. I move onto the bed and sit in front of him, practically straddling his hips as I take his face in my hands and force him to look at me. “Look,” I spit out, his angry eyes locking with mine, “if I wasn’t afraid of their reaction, I would’ve told them. Penny has a lesbian roommate, for Merlin’s sake, but she wouldn’t come around to this after two minutes when you come in the door and confirmed it. I hardly think she’ll come around to it when I eventually have to tell her that I just don’t like anyone but you.”
  • Baz does that thing where he tries to hide his emotions with a frown, but I can see the cogs wearing behind his eyes. “So just,” I begin, looking up towards the ceiling before staring back down at him, “kiss me and forget about what happened before, because I came back to see you and kiss you and be here with you.”
  • Baz doesn’t wait long before leaning up and gently pressing his lips against mine, slowly moving them and turning his head and kissing me deeper. I move my head and offer my neck to him, sighing in relief when I feel him kissing me like last night. I get lost in these kisses, and when Baz bares his teeth across my neck, I smile and move back down to kiss him.

Summary: Bruce gets caught talking to himself by a curious Dick Grayson



Bruce Wayne had learned to ignore many things in the few years since he’d become Batman. Initial irrigations had even turned to comforting reminders. The chill of the cave was a welcome shock that helped his brain transition from Bruce to vigilante. The long drive from the manor to Gotham proper had turned into a time to plan instead of wasted minutes. And the bats. Chattering. Flapping. Swooping when he was least expecting them. They’d become a welcome presence alongside him. Their noise the background to his work. Their rare visible presence a constant reminder of vigilance.

He had never considered them as companions to speak to. They were only bats, after all.

They had never answered his muttered musings to himself or offered up answers to questions not sent their way. His hushed tone had grown over time to conversational, as he worked out plans, walked mentally through crime scenes, and picked apart toxins. They were much like walls in the way that they soaked up his words and kept them tightly as their own.

He was sure that things would have gone along that way for years longer if a small, ever-curious boy had not entered his life. Dick was always asking questions. Most of which Bruce had ready answers for. Their subjects those that (most of the time) were enriching to his young ward’s mind.

It had been years since Bruce had to curtail his habits to anyone other than Alfred. He’d developed a public persona with strict rules and guidelines for when he was at Wayne Enterprises or public events, and the hours he put in as Batman were done as a man far removed from the man he was in the sun. His home self, the man who was neither smile nor mask was free of those restrictions. Free to frown, and rub his forehead, to be frustrated or pleasantly amused by the misplacing of his favorite book, and yes he was free to talk to himself.

“If I clip that wire, and solder it here the whole thing will run a lot faster.” He said, his hands already angling the wire clipper towards the blue line. “Then if I just–”

“Hey B. Who’re ya talking to?”

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Long Ass List of Daredevil Sentence Starters
  • "Scream all you want. Come on, let me hear you scream. Scream loud. Nobody gives a shit down here."
  • "I gotta go bribe a cop."
  • "But seriously, yeah, I gotta go bribe a cop."
  • "Please stop giving my mom cigars."
  • "Look, I'm not asking you to do anything immoral."
  • "You've never done this before?"
  • "Maybe we can help each other."
  • "All I did was ask him for a drink."
  • "Define yourself by what you have, value the differences, make no apologies for what you lack."
  • "I thought I detected a whiff of virtue in there."
  • "But I'm awkward and unfashionable. Those things don't seem to apply to you."
  • "I just don't feel like going home okay?"
  • "So let's hop a few bars, not think about it."
  • "Your outfit kind of sucks, by the way."
  • "You haven't told me anything about you."
  • "Okay, good because I was starting to worry you might be in love with me."
  • "I drank the eel. Not a euphemism."
  • "And we are now filled with mighty eel strength!"
  • "After what you told me, I'm never going home again."
  • "I know you're scared, but I'm here to help you. Okay? - You don't have to be scared anymore."
  • "I make a heck of a latte, if you're interested."
  • "Facts have no moral judgment. They merely state what is. Not what we think of them, not what we feel."
  • "I know how hard this must be for you."
  • "You have no idea how any of this is for me."
  • "They have to pay for what they've done."
  • "They won't listen."
  • "We'll make them listen."
  • "You do not want to test me."
  • "You think this is still about you?"
  • "You should have just killed me. You coward."
  • "This is an offer, not an order."
  • "I did some digging into your, uh past activities."
  • "A man/woman that can be bought isn't worth having."
  • "I said you should move on. Didn't say anything about me."
  • "Even though our perception of it changes, one thing remains constant. The past can never be completely erased. It lingers."
  • "I've been lied to before by men/women. Some were even decent ones but they still felt the need to be dishonest about things that mattered."
  • "Hey, that's not a reason, it's an excuse."
  • "He's/She's like a sexual Rain Man."
  • "I want you to touch my face."
  • "Just tell me what you feel."
  • "You need anything else, you know where to find me."
  • "You want the short answer or the long one?"
  • "We need to contain this."
  • "Lying to that woman is impossible."
  • "Choose a side."
  • "I'm the closest he/she has to family. He'd/She'd do the same for me."
  • "That wasn't very smart, but it was fun watching you bleed."
  • "Life is not a fairy tale. Not everyone deserves a happy ending."
  • "Animals don't stop fighting. Not until one of them is dead."
  • "Admittedly, I'm a work in progress."
  • "Let's get this started."
  • "You know what they call stuff like that? Gifts. The special kind. The kind that very few people have. Or deserve."
  • "Smart don't come out of books, kid. Smart is making the right decision at the right time."
  • "Big world. Not all of it flowers and sunshine, and the only way guys like you and me can survive is to grab it by the throat and never let go."
  • "Are you gonna lie there all night or get up off your ass?"
  • "What a shithole."
  • "This is my life and I made something of it, without you."
  • "Relationships are a luxury men like you and me can't afford."
  • "Is that why you left? Huh? To protect me?"
  • "You got heart kid, but heart's not enough."
  • "Anger is a spark, good. Rage is a wildfire, out of control, therefore useless. Just like you."
  • "We all pay for our choices."
  • "I've learned a lot since you've been gone."
  • "You're a dick."
  • "Say that you want my help."
  • "I want you to help yourself."
  • "I don't need a friend. I need a soldier."
  • "In war, people die. If it's not you, it's the guy next to you."
  • "I swear I will not kill anybody. Pussy."
  • "Never is a man more good looking than when he is in love."
  • "You do your job, I'll do mine."
  • "On occasion some dickery may leak out, but doesn't mean I'm wrong."
  • "So, how long before I do something that pisses you off?"
  • "You can't listen to people like that. You have to just block them out."
  • "Yeah, you're just a guy, right? A really, really good-looking guy."
  • "If you weren't half dead, I would kick your ass."
  • "We're gonna be the best damn avocados this city has ever seen."
  • "Misspelling 'Hanukkah' is a mistake. Attempted murder is a little something else."
  • "Well, we seldom get everything we want. Not in this world."
  • "You were really something back in the day. When you had a soul."
  • "I'm not afraid to die."
  • "We'll be together, that's all that matters."
  • "You really think that this will change anything?"

anonymous asked:

Could you do the “I forgot my gym shirt and no one is letting me borrow theirs so can I have yours, even though it’s several sizes too large? Thanks, but you can stop telling me I look really cute in your clothing because I can’t stop blushing.” AU from School Prompts for connor/evan (if you haven't already done so) please?? thank you:) love your writing!!

(eek sorry this is so late, i have been busy and ugh)

Thank you!! Gah this is so cute im already dying just thinking about it

Important: my school does not have P.E or gym or whatever? So changing into gym clothes is an actual thing that people do? what???? Ok while reading this keep in mind i literally have no idea what a changing room or gym stuff is like.


Evan stared at his locker for a few moments in disbelief. He stared at his empty locker. There was nothing in it. This was his gym locker, there should be his gym clothes in it, but there was nothing. All there was in the locker was a small pile of fabric. Pulling it out, Evan saw that it was gym shorts- not his, and a size too big, but it would have to do.

But there was no shirt. Evan looked frantically in the locker some more, but that was useless seeing how there were not hidden doors or anything that would hide stuff in the locker.

Evan continued staring into the locker though- maybe it was the shame of probably having to wear his button up shirt during gym. The other boys around him laughed and talked to each other, all changing into their clothes. Usually, Evan was in one of the bathroom stalls by now, changing into his own gym clothes. He hated changing in front of the other fit and toned boys.

Who would have taken his clothes? The only person that came to mind was Jared- fucking Jared. God, he probably wanted to start some prank war or something. Evan himself hated pranks, he always worried that something would go wrong and they would get in trouble or the inflicted person would get angry. In a short burst of anger, Evan slammed his locker shut.

People had begun to leave already, so not many noticed Evan’s little outburst. It wasn’t like he could straight up ask people for a spare shirt, god that would be mortifying. Evan’s face was burning, and he could really start to feel the panic begin.

“H-hey,” Someone spoke next to him. The sudden voice startled Evan, and he jerked his head in the direction. “Evan, are you okay?” It was Connor Murphy.

Jesus, this day kept getting better and better, didn’t it? Of course Evan’s crush would be here to witness Evan breaking down. How wonderful. Evan shrugged. He briefly considered being sarcastic, but he realized that he was on the verge of tears so humor was not going to happen.

“Peachy. My friend stole my gym shirt.” Evan did all that he could to keep his voice from cracking. This was mortifying. Connor didn’t say anything for a few moments, but then stepped back.

“Here. Take my shirt.” Connor leaned into his already open locker and pulled out a spare shirt. Evan stared at it with wide eyes. “Take it,” Connor insisted after a few moments of silence.

Evan took it. He didn’t know what else to do, class would be starting in like 5 minutes, he had no other option!

“I- uh- I’m just gonna go- um- change,” Evan said awkwardly. Connor smiled a little, and nodded. “Thank you.” Evan practically ran to the bathroom stalls.

After he slipped the shirt on, he noticed the biggest problem.

Connor was a very different size than Evan. The shirt hung down halfway down his thighs. When he looked in the mirror, he had to stifle a giggle. The arm holes were two times too big. Everything seemed to just hang loosely on Evan’s body. It did smell like Connor though.

No, Evan stop that. That is creepy. Evan mentally chided himself.

Evan made his way back into the locker room, expecting Connor to be long gone.

But he wasn’t. Connor was leaning up against the lockers, on his phone. He looked up when he heard Evan approaching.

“Damn, Hansen. You look adorable in that.”

That was the last thing Evan expected him to say. His cheeks went pink, no, red, and he couldn’t bring himself to even look at Connor.

“I should tell Jared to take your clothes more, so you would wear my shirt again.” Evan’s ears went red as well.

“Stop,” He mumbled. Connor laughed, and stood up straight.

“Fine. Ready to go?” Connor paused, thinking. “Or, we could just skip, and go out on a date?”

theimaginatrix27  asked:

Hey. I just found your blog and you seem to be annoyed with the part of the fandom that's upset at Goku's treatment in Super. Going by what I've read, since I haven't watched more than one episode of Super, Goku has gone from someone who cares about his friends and family enough to die for them to someone who will sacrifice entire universes for a good fight. Part 1

“PT2: Yes, I know Goku likes a good fight. I’ve known that since I started watching Dragon Ball Z at age 9. But he also cares about the innocent, and sacrificing whole entire universes worth of innocent people just so he can battle it out with the best fighters from them is just … really messed up and I’d never have believed it of him.
PT3: This is the guy who became a Super Saiyan because Freeza killed his best friend. This is the guy who convinced Vegeta to join him in what he knew was a permanent fusion through one of the most passionate and beautiful speeches I ever heard from him. The guy who died to save Earth from Cell and stayed dead to protect everyone he loved.
PT4: I’m not going to be mean-spirited or anything, but if Super doesn’t acknowledge these parts of who Goku is, they have made me very very sad. I only watched the dub but I was a hardcore DBZ fan from age 10 to age 14 and I know Goku’s not the brightest but he DOES care about people, even those he does not know personally.”

Well first of all, thank you for checking out this blog! As for my stance on Goku, I’m not sure what all you’ve been told, but I’ll do my best to address most of what I’ve been dealing with. (Please note: this is in no way a “callout” post, I’m genuinely trying to explain my position.)

To start, Goku did not, at all, “sacrifice” universes for a good fight. In fact, their demise has little to do with him at all. The fandom seems to have convinced themselves that Goku was told not to ask for this tournament or everyone would die, but that’s simply not the case. Beerus told him he didn’t like him being chummy with Zen-oh, the Omni-King, as all it takes is a bad day for him and he’ll erase their entire universe if Goku annoys him. (Remember, he DID wipe out another 12 universes that had existed before in a fit of anger.)

In fact, the demise of the other universes as a penalty for loss was a shock even to Beerus. However, only a few episodes later definitively showed that Goku had not, in fact, been responsible for this fate. In fact, Zen-oh had been saying there were too many universes to keep track of and had the Grand Priest begin assigning said universes a number value in accordance with their quality. Any universe ranked below a 7 overall was to be wiped out. However, Goku reminding him of the Tournament he’d promised inspired him to instead make a competition of it; he would have all universes below a 7 fight it out for the right to remain in existence, with a wish on the Super Dragon Balls as an added boon.

Goku actually, completely inadvertently, saved his own universe and gave all those due for extinction at least a fighting chance to survive.

As for Goku’s characterization… a few things to keep in mind. Toriyama has stated in the past, back when the anime had just finished running, that he hadn’t appreciated how at times they tried to spin him as more heroic than he actually is, going for a more traditional hero role that what was intended; this error was only magnified in the dub version of things for the same reason.

Toriyama had said that Goku’s allure was that he wasn’t a hero, at least not intentionally. His singular drive was to fight strong opponents, period. But, in seeking to accomplish his goal and fulfill his desires, often found himself doing good things as a result of it. This is a description of the character Toriyama has remained consistent on in his manga, in a 1997 interview right after the anime concluded:

Toriyama: Even with characters that appear to be doing the right thing at first glance….
Wired: There’s actually “poison” inside?
Toriyama: Right. There’s how, basically, Son Goku from Dragon Ball doesn’t fight for the sake of others, but because he wants to fight against strong guys. So once Dragon Ball got animated, at any rate, I’ve always been dissatisfied with the “righteous hero”-type portrayal they gave him. I guess I couldn’t quite get them to grasp the elements of “poison” that slip in and out of sight among the shadows.

In a 2014 interview with Masako Nozawa:

“I wanted him to have the sense of being that rare guy who seeks only “to become stronger than before”, so much so that it feels like “there’s no one as pure as this person”. And while he does end up saving everyone as a result of that, he himself at least has a very pure sincerity about “wanting to become stronger”. What I wanted to depict the most was the sense that he might not be a ‘good guy’ at all, although he does do good things as a result.“

AND, most importantly, in one of the recent episodes of Super.

Goku is still very much Goku. The problem is the fandom, many of whom aren’t even watching sadly, majorly jumped the gun and made assumptions of what happened, while viewing Goku through this idealized lens of who he is. But he’s still Son Goku. He’s still that big friendly doof we all love. And he still cares about others and their plights, even if he doesn’t seek them out as some sort of ‘arbiter of justice’. Nor did he ever once intentionally doom entire universes to die for the sake of a good fight. That kind of slander and just plain trashing of the character is just something I refuse to abide by or entertain.

Anyways, I hope I helped clear this up for you, and I hope you enjoy my content. :)

oh, the festivities

1.3k // fluff // no tw // part of a collection of snowbaz memories

happy birthday @eroticgropefest !!! i hope you have the most wonderful of birthdays !!! have a badly timed christmas fic in celebration i now have christmas carols stuck in my head oops enjoy!

december 1

Jingle bells, jingle bells,
Jingle all the way
Oh what fun is it to ride
In a one horse open sleigh

It was snowing outside. And there were Christmas carols playing, sounding suspiciously like they were coming from the kitchen.

Baz, half asleep still, rolled over, only to find the other half of the bed to be empty. Huh.

“Simon, love, why are you up at”—Baz rolled over and glanced at the clock—“six in the morning? And why are there Christmas carols playing in the kitchen?”

Simon bounced back into the room, hands wrapped around a mug. (Was that coffee? Hot chocolate? Baz couldn’t tell.)

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some PJO Mass Effect: Andomeda AU because @suchastart is an angel who puts inspiring things in my inbox and who loves AUs with me, particularly and most especially pjo mass effect au

Already, the galaxy seems full of ghosts.


Or close enough but for the gentle hum of the ship all around him. Percy takes a few steps into the cabin, closes his eyes. He feels the pulse of the Tempest move up through his feet and hum at the tips of his fingers. His heartbeat slows, stops pounding in his ears, and he breathes deep, lets exhaustion sink in and hit him for the first time since waking from cryo. A soft bed within reach for the first time since Habitat 7. Sleep – real sleep – for the first time in six hundred years. 

When he opens his eyes he sees the Andromeda galaxy stretched out before him, endless and beautiful. It really is breathtaking, he thinks, even if everything since first waking in this new pocket of space has felt like a nightmare. Crashing shuttles. Choking on poisonous air. His father’s face distorted by the broken glass of his helmet. Jolting awake in Sam Node, Annabeth’s face hovering over his. Her voice calling him Pathfinder. The Nexus, like something from a horror vid – dark, and vacant, and broken.

But this, this vast expanse of space at his feet, is nothing short of incredible. And this, this masterpiece of a ship around him, feels like the safest place, closest thing to home, since his mother.

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If I close my eyes forever, will it all remain the same?

The Mystery of Suga’s 3rd Muster Acrylic Stand

Yoongi hadn’t seen the standee he’d liberated from the BigHit offices since he’d given it to Jin at that crazy gift exchange / Christmas party a few weeks ago.  He hadn’t seen it and - well - it bugged the fuck out of him.  He’d at least expected Jin to make a big show about standing it up in some agonizing part of the dorm.  YOongi hoped it wouldn’t be in the bathroom at the bottom of the toilet bowl to encourage the Kids to aim better - but thought that a distinct possibility.  

However even that would be preferable to - well - nothing.  And there was no sign of his little gift - not even in Jin’s trash.  Not that Yoongi had looked….hard…

It finally bugged him so much he had even asked Jin, who had smiled his little mysterious smile in Yoongi’s direction and had refused to answer his question. Just shrugged those beautiful shoulders of his and told Yoongi to “not worry about it.”  

So Yoongi tried, and tried again.  And then tried harder.  He would almost succeed in forgetting about the fact that his gift to Jin had gone missing, hadn’t been put up on display, had been apparently forgotten and cast aside by everybody but him - INCLUDING by the person who got the gift, his very own Forever Roommate Jin who he thought would care enough for his face to at least want to see him when he had to pee.  

He would almost forget and then Jimin would come strutting out of the bathroom wearing the underwear Hope had given him, or Namjoon would buy another pack of wet wipes (having gone through the original pack given to him by Jin almost right away and getting addicted instantly), and it would all come back  - HIS gift had apparently been thrown away.  

And ok, maybe it hurt more than he wanted to admit.   So he pouted.  

He was pouting a few days later, when Jin called him from the house one night around dinner time.  He asked Yoongi to stop by his office in the BigHit building on the way home from work to pick up a script he needed for one of his classes.  Yoongi didn’t grumble about doing something for his ungrateful roommate any more than usual, ok not much more than usual - but all of his grumbles stopped when he opened Jin’s closed office door and turned on the light.  

There, in the place of honor right to the right of Jin’s pink keyboard, was Yoongi’s acrylic stand, literally inches away from the script he was supposed to find and bring home.  There was no way he could miss seeing it.  And in that second, Yoongi knew that Jin had known he was upset, and this was how he was gently making it better.  Yoongi was thankful it was after hours because he couldn’t wipe the big dopey grin off of his face.  Here he was thinking that Jin had thrown his gift away, when in fact - he had done just the opposite, done more than Yoongi had ever imagined.  

He got home as quickly as he could, jumping in a car and all but running into the dorms.  Dinner smells were beginning to leak through the apartment, and Jin was muttering at the stove, apparently giving a pep talk to the meal they were about to eat.  Yoongi didn’t say a word and just swooped in for a back hug, firmly wrapped his arms around Jin’s waist - burying his nose in the t-shirt Jin was wearing that smelled like cooking and their room and HOME.   

“Hmmmmm,” Jin said, “Min Yoongi I presume…:

Yoongi didn’t answer.  

What’s going on, everything ok, did you find the script??”   

Instead of crying to Jin about how much it really did mean to him to see his little standee on Jin’s desk, instead of causing a scene by declaring his eternal love for his forever roommate right at dinner time, Yoongi just hugs Jin a little tighter (so tight he squeaks) and tucks his smile closer into Jin’s back while he whispers “Everything’s great Jinnie, I found the script no problem. I’m just really glad to be home.”   

Memory Loss AU

I have seen an AU of fifty first dates floating around a few months ago and I thought of it again, and then thought “what if this ended really really poorly”

Thank @hartwinorlose for making me post it. 😘

Harry wakes up every morning alone in his bed, no memory of anything other than his name. Confused, he looks around the room for any indication of what the fuck is happening, and finds the ‘good morning Harry!’ tape. He pops it in and finds a v handsome young man telling him his name is Eggsy and he doesn’t remember anything and that’s okay. He tells him he’s in his house, he had an injury while on a job and that has effected his short and long term memory. He tells him about Kingsman, how he used to be an incredible spy but since he can’t remember anything, they only use him for consulting purposes now and then. He tells him how he proposed Eggsy for it, how he’s been there for five years now.

He then tells him oh yeah they’re married; they dated for a year and a half and then Harry proposed to him in overly dramatic fashion and shows him photos in the video, then of how they got married with video and Harry watches and is v emotional because obv it’s true here’s proof but he really wants to remember because he looks so happy in the video and photos fuck. The video comes to an end and Eggsy smiles lovingly at the camera and tells him how much he loves him, and that he’s downstairs waiting for him whenever he’s ready. Unless there’s a second tape in the drawer beneath the tv. Then watch that first.

Harry opens the drawer and there is a second one, so he pops that in too. The camera adjusts and Eggsy is grinning from a seat in a plane it looks like, nice suit and glasses on and everything and my he looks dashing. “Hey Harry,” he says, leaning in like he is trying to keep the video hidden from someone. “Lettin ya know I won’t be there today. Got a mission I gotta do. I’m sorry I won’t be there for a few days, but I love ya, okay? Not like you’ll know how long I’ve been gone anyway, eh? I’m bein sent to America, an it’s confidential an all so I can’t give ya my cell number to reach me. But I’ll be back soon. Bring ya a shitty mug from Kentucky, yeah? Enjoy your day, I love ya so much. See ya soon.” And the video ends. Harry is disappointed, he wanted to see him, but nods and gets ready to explore the house and spend the day.

This goes on for years, and whenever Merlin or Roxy comes to check on him or get him groceries, he asks after Eggsy, how he’s doing, and they can’t bring themselves to tell him, letting him keep thinking he’ll be home tomorrow.

anonymous asked:

Haven't heard anything from you for a few days. I hope everything's alright!

Okay okay, explanation time. 

The last two weeks have been awful for me. I had an incident with a racist, sexist professor, who targeted me in particular by labelling my actions as a consequence of my ethnicity (based on stereotypes). I had another incident in which a professor had a violent outburst that ended with things being broken and our class being threatened with violence.

And you know, people sort of just expected me to suck it up and move on. It got to the point that I had to convince myself I wasn’t offended, or you know, insulted, threatened, and alienated from my peers by the things that had happened. Because I told my classmates, and they sort of just went, “Aww that sucks” or “Oh my gosh,” and that was that. I mean, I felt like a Facebook post being scrolled past.

People told me I could report it, and when I pressed further and asked for actual details, they came up blank. In my university, the hope of a student winning a case against faculty is slim to none, with emphasis on none. Students end up getting involved in a long, dragged out process that not only exhausts them, but also destroys their name and reputation. 

At one point, I’d approached a faculty member with whom I regularly consult and when I expressed these concerns, pressing a case included, I was told the school couldn’t do anything unless the students put themselves out there first.

The rest of the week, I continued to tell myself I was too busy to be upset, that I was probably being oversensitive about what had happened (if not other people would react too, right?). It was only last week that I conceded I was upset. That I was afraid, because I thought this would never happen. I go to one of the most progressive and liberal universities in my area. I keep my head down and try not to cause trouble. I don’t make waves. And it was then I realised it wasn’t just the threat of violence, but also the racist comments that made me angry. Violence is bad. But I realised that discrimination can hit so much harder at times, and I wasn’t doing myself any favours by willing my feelings away.

So I took time to process how I felt. I think that the rules that are supposed to protect students in my university are due for an overhaul. It made me especially angry because I was told that if I didn’t take action, others would fall victim to the same thing, but at the same time, my own safety wasn’t guaranteed. No student should have to be a sacrificial lamb for a cause that shouldn’t have been a concern in the first place. The burden of proof is on the students, and it’s a double burden when one considers the dynamic between faculty and student is always in favour of the faculty. 

Theoretically, students could press a case. And then their grades slowly bleed away because now those professors have a reason to be antagonistic. In requirements that are subjective, such as essays, students don’t really have a  way to prove this antagonism.

I’m much better now. I felt very naive for thinking that the academe would have better ways to deal with societal problems. I mean, I knew it wasn’t perfect, but school has always been my refuge and safe space, because in school, things can be discussed, debated, and decided by all parties. It’s about having an intellectual conversation. I know it’s not a perfect place. Now I realise that it’s no different from everywhere else. 

After dealing with my feelings, I feel better. I’ll still have to face these people, at least until the end of the semester, but it’s a little better knowing I can allow myself to be angry. I think problems like these are structural, institutional, and don’t really have a quick solution. I’m not giving up. I will continue to defend myself. It’s just, I’ve lost faith in the systems that I’ve always been told would keep us all a little bit safer.

And I don’t know, but it’s also this semester that I’ve had the most number of professors randomly digressing into lectures about how “this generation” is weak and can’t handle being screamed at. To which I’d like to say, no one should be screamed at. No one should feel afraid in an environment that purports to be an institution of higher learning, because learned people shouldn’t have to scream and use ad hominem attacks to get their points across.

“This generation” is not weak. Every generation has had to fight its biggest trends of prejudice and hatred. Just because that prejudice is expressed differently now, it doesn’t mean it isn’t legitimate, or that people don’t experience any “real” harms. The underlying assumption behind statements like those, legitimises some forms of hate while demonising others. All hate is wrong. That’s something that should be understood, and it’s disappointing that these words come from the mouths of educators.

anonymous asked:

Sam, ever since I submitted my grad school applications I haven't been able to fall asleep. It's 4am here and I've been reading some threads related to the program I want to get in for the last 5 hours and my anxiety is getting worse by the minute. Did you have to deal with anxiety issues as well before you got your grad school acceptance? Any tips that would help me calm my tits would be greatly appreciated.

Aw, Anon, I’m sorry it’s giving you such nerves!

I can’t speak from direct personal experience here, but I may be able to help. When I applied to grad school it was a super-fast process because applying in the performing arts is somewhat different from elsewhere – you do an audition and then interviews with a bunch of schools at once, over the course of a single day, and your offers usually come in very shortly thereafter. I didn’t really have time to be anxious.

However, this is where my experience in BDSM comes in somewhat handy. Stick with me, I promise I’m going somewhere with this.

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i have been unbelievably demolished by the senseless murder of christina grimmie, a beautiful soul who had a god-given talent and was wise beyond all her years. christina grimmie was one of the first artists to inspire me to do cover songs and gave me the want to play an instrument i so desperately hated at the time. i got up in front of a new school and sang one of her songs for our winter talent show and when my parents asked why i didn’t want to do a more popular song, or at least one by an artist people had heard of, my response was that i believed in that song. that song gave me the strength to stand up in front of my peers, feeling more confident in my own skin than i had in ages, showing them what i was made of. i felt like someone when i sang that song. i saw her when she toured with selena on stars dance and i was probably one of the only people in that arena standing and dancing and singing along with her. to know that she was robbed of her voice, robbed of her dream, robbed of her LIFE all due to violence, and gun violence at that, has made me sick to my stomach. i stayed up until two am last night feeling nauseous waiting to hear any news, praying it would be something, ANYTHING but her passing. instead, i woke up to confirmation she was gone, and my heart shattered. seeing the dedications to her tonight, seeing selena barely holding herself together on stage, seeing the statement from her brother, i have spent all day mourning over the loss of this angel. i have spent all day trying to fathom why someone could ever take away a life that was so precious, so adored, so gentle, how someone could look a girl in the eye as she opened her arms to embrace them in a hug and strip her of her life in front of family and fans without hesitation. concerts are supposed to be safe havens, small pauses in time that bring about joy and happiness and that innocence and safety concerts bring so many of us, including myself, has been shattered. the music industry will never be the same again; we will be the generation that remembers a time where it was easy to access our favorite musicians, where meet and greets were, for the most part, lenient and relaxed and primarily about the fans if they even occurred to begin with and where a wall of security didn’t stand between us and our musical heroes. we will remember what it’s like for musicians to stop in public to greet fans even without the overwhelming presence of security, if any at all because they felt safe approaching their fans, their supporters, the people who are supposed to love and care for their wellbeing. we will remember going into arenas with our bags peered into for only a second and a quick walk through a metal detector. none of that will remain after today, and if it does, i will be disgusted. i will be damned if she died for nothing, if she died for celebrities not being able to voice their concerns about their own safety and be taken seriously, if she died for nothing to be done about the rapidly heightening epidemic of gun violence, if she died for love to cease and hatred to take over. all christina wanted was for the world to feel love and to give it back. we have already failed christina grimmie, we cannot do so again. today was a dark day and the next few days will be emotionally turbulent as well, as death is still a very sore subject with me and i need time to properly sort out my grievances over this senseless tragedy. please be patient with me as my blog will more than likely go dark for a few days so i can focus on the people who need me through this, as well as my writing. if anyone should need me for any reason, please don’t hesitate to send me a message, whether it’s in the inbox or on twitter or via text or wherever you’re comfortable. your feelings are valid, feeling hurt and shock and in pain whether you were a fan or not is one-hundred percent okay and i am here to talk, or merely listen if that’s what you need. if there’s anything you take away from this, spread love and kindness to anyone you can reach, because christina would want that to be her legacy.

pray that something in this world changes because of this.