i hope you at least like it

I drew a boyfriend for my boy [x]

4

Drew my favorite witches 

7 hours and 75 layers later at least

This is a gift for @kinkypoptarte for creating such lovely aus, creating gorgeous artwork, supporting other artists, and being such kind and sweet person.

You inspire so many people including myself and this is the least I could do to show my appreciation 

In case you wanted to see my work progress, it’s under the cut 

Keep reading

Day 1

((Thank you for your kind response!!! I hope you all enjoy this part too!!

CW: mentions of neurological disorder, some cursing ))

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New to the story? Check out: The Story So Far: Masterlist

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“…should we do? Logan?” 

“I told you, just give him a minute. I’m sure it was a shock to see us for the first time.” 

“Must’ve at least been a shock to see Roman.” 

“Hey!” 

“Virgil, that’s not helping.” 

“Wasn’t trying to help.” 

“Should I get the smelling salts?” 

“Only if he fainted in the 1920s.”

“Actually, more like the 1880s. Smelling salts were used most frequently when corsets were in fashion, due to the–”

“Aaaand there he goes.” 

“The point is, I seriously doubt he has smelling salts, Patton.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“I don’t even think those are a thing anymore.” 

“They most certainly are. They were traditionally composed of ammonium carbonate, though modern solutions often include things like lavender and eucalyptus, and–”

“Fascinating as this is, I think he’s coming around on his own.” 

“Thomas? Can you hear me? Open your eyes.” 

Thomas didn’t want to open his eyes. Thomas very much didn’t want to open his eyes, because he knew if he did, there would be one of two outcomes. In outcome number one, he would open his eyes and the room would be empty, and this would all have been a very strange dream. A good, if oddly disappointing and bittersweet, scenario. 

Outcome number two, on the other hand, was a good deal more…complicated. Outcome number two involved looking up and finding his Sides staring down at him–four identical copies of his own face, existing as if they had any right to do so here in the real world. And as incredible as that might be, outcome number two came with baggage; baggage to the tune of hospital visits, MRIs, CAT scans, Therapists, and a barrage of medication. 

And the closer his brain swam toward consciousness, the more likely option number two was sounding. Because those voices weren’t fading away like a strange and vivid dream. If anything, they were getting clearer. 

And then there was the fact that someone was touching him. 

Someone was touching him. 

There was a hand on his shoulder someone was someone was touching–

He yelped, eyes flying open, and four startled faces drew back from where they’d been leaning over him. Four faces that were completely identical to his own, save for the tiniest of differences (the glasses, for one; Patton and Logan both wore them and they were real, there were lenses, not just frames, and Patton really did have freckles, and Virgil’s face was gaunt and paler than the others’ and was Roman’s jaw a little more squarish than the others and oh my gosh why is he worrying about what they look like when he should be–)

“Don’t,” Virgil said abruptly, voice strong and almost commanding, and Thomas’s panicked train of thought screeched to a halt. He stared up at the personification of his own anxiety, and saw Virgil was taking deep breahts through his nose. 

“Don’t,” the side said again, softer now. “You’ll set us both off if you start on that.” 

“Start…” Thomas found he had to swallow, as his voice came out a mere croak. “Don’t start…?” 

“The panic thing,” Virgil explained. “Normally I’m all for it, but right now…”

“It’s not going to be particularly productive,” said Logan, and oh God, it was Logan, he’d know that sharp, shrewd expression anywhere, and–

“Am I…dreaming?” Thomas managed. 

“If so, I’m not doing it,” Roman said, sitting back a little with a sheepish shrug. His voice was rich,deep and full and somehow…regal, even though he looked like he felt anything but. “Not this time.” 

“Then…then how…?” 

“To be honest with you, kiddo, we’re all kind of wondering the same thing.” Patton, and was it Thomas’s imagination or was the paternal side a little…softer around the edges than the others…? 

“All we know is we were doing our thing, safely tucked away into your mind, and now…well, here we are.” Logan spread his arms to encompass all of Thomas’s apartment. All of his one bedroom apartment, Thomas thought suddenly, and the absurdly panicked thought about where he would put all of them surfaced along with an insane urge to laugh. 

The sides were looking at him warily, and Thomas wondered just how much of his thoughts and feelings they could pick up on. Were they still…his sides? Were they still capable of influencing his decisions and his thoughts and emotions? Was he still even him, without–

Okay, why was he thinking about all of this like it was real?

“I’m losing my mind,” he mumbled, dropping his head into his hands. 

“No; we’re all right here,” Patton said. 

Thomas peeked up at them in time to see Logan rolling his eyes and Virgil smirking. Roman had situated himself half-behind Thomas, and laid a supportive hand on Thomas’s shoulder. 

A supportive, real, solid hand. 

What the actual flipping fuck? 

“Okay,” he managed. “Okay. So. I, uh…” 

“Yeah,” Virgil said dryly. “That’s kinda where we are on the whole thing.” 

“How long have you been here?” Thomas asked, remembering that they’d all been asleep, sprawled out on his couch when he’d come down the stairs. 

“Since about midnight,” Roman said with a sigh. 

“The witching hour,” Virgil intoned, wriggling his fingers. 

“Right.” 

“Did that have something to do with–?” 

“Heck if I know.” Roman shrugged. “The dragon witch is only a figment of your imagination. It’s not like she has any real power.” 

“Excuse me, but I was under the impression that all of you were figments of my imagination,” Thomas grumbled. “Yet here we are.” 

“Here we are indeed.” 

“We’re not imaginary,” Roman said slowly, as if he were thinking it through. “Not precisely. We’re part of you. We are you, just…you in pieces.” 

“Yeah, I know. I created you that way. For a youtube series.” Thomas climbed to his feet, agitated, and began to pace what little bit of his floor didn’t have a side on it. “You can’t be here. You’re not real.” 

“While I’d normally be inclined to agree,” Logan said dryly, “even I have to take empirical evidence into consideration. We appear to be very real indeed.” 

“How are you okay with this?” Thomas demanded, pausing to glare at Logan. “You’re supposed to be my logical side. I’d think this would be driving you crazy.” 

Logan tilted his head in a kind of shrug. “Logically,” he said, “there have to be plenty of things that are within the realm of reason and possibility that I simply do not know about.” 

“More things in heaven and earth,” Roman quoted softly. 

“And you’re just…okay with this being one of them?” 

“Thomas, I may not know what’s going on, but I’m quite capable of seeing that our current course of action is not getting us very far,” Logan said, a hint of sternness in his voice. “You have the evidence of your senses that we are real, and here. What more would you have?” 

“But you’re my characters,” Thomas exploded. “I play you. I put on make up or costumes or both and I read off the script that Joan and I–”

He froze, looking down at them, as the answer clicked into place. He saw it dawning on the rest of them, as they glanced at each other, then back up at him. And then, as one, they all spoke: 

“Joan.” 

“Thomas, that’s brilliant!” Patton cried. “Call Joan! They’ll know what to do!” 

“More importantly,” Logan said, rising to his feet, “they’ll be able to tell you whether or not we are really here. If they can see us–”

“Then I’m not having a nervous breakdown,” Thomas finished. 

“And if they can’t?” Virgil said. 

“Let’s cross that bridge if we come to it, kiddo,” Patton told him gently. “Thomas is freaked out enough already.” 

“And that is a very good sign,” Roman concluded. When the others looked at him, bewildered, Roman shrugged. “Well, think about it. If he were really having a nervous breakdown, this would feel…normal to him. Wouldn’t it?” 

“Putting that time you played Sigmund Freud in middle school to good use, I see,” Virgil said dryly. 

“He may have a point, actually,” Logan said. “Much as it pains me to admit it. Thomas, you’re aware we shouldn’t be here. Which means that you are, at least, still aware of how reality should function.” 

“And aware of the fact that it’s decidedly not,” Thomas said. He sighed, and pulled out his phone, thumbing in Joan’s number. “They’re going to have me committed,” he mumbled.Then, when Joan answered, their voice groggy, Thomas said, “Hey, uh…Joan? Could you come over, please?” 

“Thomas?” Joan’s voice sharpened. They sounded worried. “Is everything okay?” 

Thomas looked at his sides each in turn, then huffed softly, a not-quite laugh of bemusement. 

“I’m going to need you to tell me,” he said. 

Keep reading

Warmth on Their Fingertips

Hello friends! 
I’m catching up on my request, or at least trying to.
This is a part2 to this story here: Cold on Your Fingertips
I hope you’re all well! 

Plot: H tries to win Y/N back.

Warnings: It’s angsty and sad but nothing triggering I would say.

Pic wasn’t taken by me even though I wish dearly that it was. 

“I made you breakfast.”

Harry stood rigid and with jelly-like legs in the space of our small kitchen, from where he had a direct view onto me where I lingered in the doorway. The state of my body matched his as I stood as frozen as he did when at the same time my limps felt weaker than ever. 
I hadn’t expected to see him. 
When I rolled out of bed after waking from a night’s sleep that had been hunted by nightmares, I’d expected to be as alone and lonely as I’d been almost every morning. Harry had been gone for so long without giving my feelings a second thought, so why would he care all of a sudden?
Because I’d cried in front of him, where he had to actually see what he did to me for a change instead of only hearing it in my desperate voice-messages? 
Well, I suppose my distraught state the night before must’ve left its impression on him. After all, voice-messages could be deleted and ignored, my break-down however he’d had no control over.
I almost smiled when I thought about how much I must’ve shocked him with my reaction to how cold he treated me. 

“Eggs,” Harry tried to tempt me and he raised the plate in his hand almost shyly so I’d have a clearer view on what he’d made for me, “With tomatoes even. I don’t really like them in m’egg but- mean I know that you do so… you like that, right? Figured you might want to eat a proper breakfast today.”

His eyes were wide and I watched with a heaviness settling in my chest how the pink lips of his I loved so much were bitten and pulled at roughly by his teeth. 
I knew he wanted me to reassure him that he’d done good, that his gesture would help make things between us okay again. 
Of course Harry wasn’t oblivious and he wasn’t stupid either, he knew that it would take more than just breakfast for us to be alright, but perhaps, he’d hoped, perhaps a good and proper breakfast together would help the process along. 

When he was sure that I wouldn’t reply he sighed heavily and set the plate down on the table. His attention turned to the counter where he began to throw more food on a plate and I watched with a strange sense of guilt how he so desperately tried to coax a reaction out of me.

“Made you some toast as well,” he continued, “And there’s tea. Coffee as well, of course, but figured you might want tea so… We got juice!”

Since when? I wondered. 
Harry almost smiled, reading my thoughts only by looking at my mildly surprised expression.

“I went and got some when you were sleeping. It’s some multivitamin thing. That’s something you like, don’t you?”

He almost sighed with relief upon receiving my timid nod.

“Thank you,” I added and I shuddered at how scratchy and hoarse my voice sounded. 

Harry’s skin prickled at the sound and once more he was painfully reminded of how much I’d cried last night. Though he had to admit he was glad to hear me speak, by this point he hadn’t expected me to anymore.
For a moment we just stood there looking at each other, both of our heads trying to make out what was going on in the other’s mind. 
Harry swallowed visibly and weakly nodded to the chairs. I refused to move. 

“Food’s getting cold, love,” he murmured, voice as warm as it could be when he was busy trying to ignore the uncomfortable atmosphere around us, “Aren’t you hungry?”

I wanted to say no and keep the distance that was between us, scared of getting hurt should I allow him close again. He’d hurt me so bad and only thinking about it made my eyes water and throat go so dry it was impossible for me to decline his quiet request. Instead I shook my head rapidly and Harry paled when I took a step back. 

“Y/N.”

“Not hungry,” I stammered, though when I wanted to walk away my feet refused to obey my body. 

It was as if someone had pushed against my chest so forcefully it’d knocked all of the air right out of my lungs.
Harry looked sick. Only now did I notice how red-rimmed and swollen his eyes were, indicating clearly that he’d slept as little and probably just as bad as I had myself. He was shaking and the way he held his body screamed insecurity. 
Harry was broken and desperately trying to somehow grasp a tiny part of me that would then promise him that our relationship and what we’d had wasn’t completely lost.
But wasn’t it?
Looking at the guy standing in our kitchen, aware that I loved him with all of what was left of me, I couldn’t even think of being with him again. There was a wall between us, a thick, stone wall that neither of us would ever be able to break through.

“Okay.” 

His green eyes swam by this point and he didn’t even flinch when the first tears spilled onto his numb cheeks. 

“Was stupid of me anyway,” he continued, sounding utterly defeated, “Course you don’t want to have breakfast with me. Not after what I did to you. I get it, Y/N, my love, I do… I… m’just so sorry. Fuck.”

He picked up one of the plates he’d prepared and turned so he was no longer facing me before making me jump by carelessly dropping the porcelain into the sink, shattering it into little pieces. His hands fell onto the counter and I bit back a small cry when his shoulders began to shake. 
Harry felt like his chest was ripped in half after he lost every last bit of hope he’d found in his heart when he’d woken up this morning. He remembered feeling like there still was something to safe after he’d woken up to seeing my sleeping face. But now… now he was sure there was no way we would ever look at each other without seeing anything other than fright and pain in the other’s eyes.

“Harry?” 

Was it silly for me to feel bad for him? Probably. He hadn’t cared much about me when I’d met my breaking point.
He sniffled noisily before slowly facing me again. 

“You have to know that I never, and I mean that, never knew how horrible I was to you.”

“How?” I wondered, and with sudden strength in my chest I continued, “How couldn’t you know? I cried so much, Harry. And I told you, too! You cannot claim that I didn’t.”

“M’not,” he murmured, “You told me things were bad. But I never… I never even realized how bad. Thought we were going through a low, not that we’d reached rock bottom.”

I wanted to tell him that he was stupid. Wanted to blame it all on his ignorance and I so desperately wanted to scream at him for being blind, but all of a sudden I was very still. 
Yes, I’d cried a lot. Yes, I’d called him when I thought I needed him and he wasn’t there. And yes, he didn’t respond the way a good boyfriend should. 
But I hadn’t ever told him what was really going on until yesterday after-noon. I’d never let it shine through just how deep in a mess we were until things went bad enough for them to be impossible to safe.

“I should have told you sooner,” I decided to say, “You couldn’t have known until yesterday when I… well, when I was already down.”

Harry shrugged. “M’a shit boyfriend anyway.” 

“That you are.” I didn’t see any point in denying that, though I regretted my harsh words when his crying only increased. 

“You were,” I corrected myself quickly, “You… you don’t have to be.”

I ached all over. Harry’s red eyes widened slightly when I moved closer and sat down at the table, just the way he’d wanted me to only moments ago. Only now we were both crying, not having the nice breakfast he’d prepared when his hopes had been high.
Harry sat down as well. 

“By the way, I don’t really like tomatoes in my eggs, either.”

Harry huffed and let himself fall backwards into his seat. “Great. I can’t do anything right.”

I surprised us both by reaching for his forearm and I hesitate for a second only before gently grasping him. Even his skin felt cold though holding on to him warmed us both inner seconds. 

“Don’t be too harsh of yourself, Harry. I do like toast and juice so you got two thirds of your plan right.”

Relief flushed my cheeks when he smiled, not the big and warm smile I knew and loved, but at least it was something. “Better than nothing, huh?”

“For sure,” I agreed and when his own touch found my hand where I was holding his wrist my first instinct wasn’t to shrug him off.

There was still a cold distance between us, one that not even our souls could over come, no matter how desperately we were trying to find each other. 
But I wanted Harry. Not in a sexual way, in this moment physical intimacy wasn’t on my mind at all, but in an emotional way I felt a need for Harry that I couldn’t shake.

“I don’t know what we can do, Harry,” I confessed and when I moved to pull my hand from him he tightened his hold. 

“I don’t either, Y/N.”

So we sat there, puffy and tired eyes locked and our hands holding on to the other in a tight grip. 
Neither of us was ready to let go and when he whispered that he loved me I replied that I loved him, too. 

“But us loving each other doesn’t make saving what we have easier.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Harry agreed, voice heavy with pain and disappointment, “But we could have some of the toast I made. We could drink some of the juice. And maybe…”

“Maybe things will look different after,” I said quietly, “Maybe with a full stomach we can figure out how we can get each other back.”

“Because I really want you back, Y/N,” Harry confessed and suddenly his lips were kissing my knuckles softly before pulling back, “Miss you.”

“I do, too, Harry. You have no idea how much I do.”

That’s it! Hope you enjoyed this and don’t think it sucks… If you did, if you didn’t - leave a feedback! :) 
Rest of what I wrote can be found here:  Masterlist

inkedinserendipity  asked:

if you’re still taking prompts, maybe either kravitz or taako protecting the other? love your art!

I finished this request and WENT TO SAVE IT and as I was saving I kicked out my computer’s cord and lost it forever because I hadn’t saved the entire time because I’m a dumbass!!!!, so this is the second iteration and it’s of course not as good T_T, but I hope you like it anyway!

I like to think that at least half of Taako and Kravitz’s dates between the end of Eleventh Hour and the start of Suffering Game just turned into impromptu little sidequests and they kicked a lot of ass together.

Monika’s Pen, or: how DDLC turned the fourth wall into a Shakespearean tragedy.

You remember the ending to ‘What’s Opera Doc?’ 

The short itself is a classic and  considered by critics to be the best of the looney tunes short. But the ending features Elmer Fudd coming across the body of Bugs, as carries him away in tears he sadly says to himself: ‘What have I done? I killed the wabbit.’ while the music swells, Bugs comes to, turns to the audience, and for the first time in the short, speaks without a tune: ‘Well what did you expect in an opera? A happy ending?’ 

Now if you went up to me and asked what that was, I’d tell you that it’s just a fourth wall break. 

Since most everyone knows what the fourth wall is, I won’t explain it here, just wanted to give a quick example, is all. But the thing about the phrase, braking the fourth wall, is that it’s always been seen as a form of comedy, nothing but a clever wink and nod to the audience meant to get a rise out of you.

Lately though, story tellers have been using the fourth wall in a different way. The Dark Tower novels used the idea of creations meeting creators to bring up some fun ideas, and while I haven’t seen it yet, I’ve heard Wes Craven’s new Nightmare has fun with creators being chased by creations. But where those were just something the writers no doubt were playing around with and testing out, another format of stories have begun using the fourth wall to tell rather disturbing, thought provoking tales. 

Video games. 

Underneath the keep reading tab is my thoughts on what this all means for the future of story telling. But it does contain spoilers for both Doki Doki Literature Club and Undertale, two games that you REALLY should go into as blind as possible, so don’t say I didn’t warn you. 

And please keep in mind that this is just my opinion, I’m just telling you the realization I had after playing both these games. 

Keep reading

Zenith Redux

A Castle Pornado One-Shot


This is a reboot of a universe from a Castle fanfic prompt over a year ago. The original 2 parts can be read under this tag; however since this is a reboot, reading the originals aren’t necessary.


Setting: Caskett AU Circa Season 3


“Ah, c’mon Kate—one more dance!” Richard Castle encouraged the moment his partner turned away from him.

“No,” she laughed as she tried to pull away from him as he scrambled to grab her shoulder, then her elbow, and finally her hand as she pushed her way through the tight dancefloor crowd. “My feet need a break, Castle.”

“Party pooper.” He grumbled at her, but she merely rolled her eyes.

“I never said you had to stop dancing too.”

“But it’s no fun if you’re not out there with me. We’ll break for two songs and then we’ll go back.”

“I make no promises.”

A few steps later they had reached their table in the seating area of the hotel ballroom and Kate turned her chair so she could sit and also watch the celebration on the dancefloor. Once down, she crossed her legs so her left shin balanced atop her right knee and she could examine the big toe of her left foot. Upon seeing the red mark, she grimaced; well that was definitely why her foot hurt. She rubbed gingerly at the angry mark made by the cross-foot strap and winced again.

“Yikes, Beckett; that doesn’t look good.”

“No kidding.”

“And here I thought you could run for miles in heels…you’re ruining the illusion.”

She let out a noise of derision as she continued to examine her foot. “First, those are heeled boots, not sandals. Second, I’m really not sure what’s going on because I’ve worn these before and they haven’t bothered me.” Granted, that was probably almost a year earlier, but how much could her feet have possibly changed between the ages of thirty-one and thirty-two?

“Want me to get you some ice?”

She shook her head and patted his arm in appreciation. “No, no; I’ll be fine. You can go talk to Espo if you want.” Kate pointed towards their coworker who was hovering by the bar, sipping his drink, and watching the crowd. As they had learned earlier that evening, Esposito was not a fan of dancing at weddings; evidently he wanted to use his time to scope out a date so Kate figured he could use a wingman.

“Nah,” Castle replied. “I’m fine right here.”

Kate settled back in her chair and gazed out at the dance floor where she caught a glimpse of the bride and groom dancing, smiling, and laughing; it made Kate smile, too. She was so happy for Kevin and Jenny and was so glad she could be there to celebrate with them. Toe pain aside, the evening had been entirely wonderful starting with a beautiful ceremony and continuing on through dinner and great speeches at the reception. Kate knew that at least in part her evening was enjoyable because of her chosen date.

When Ryan’s invitations arrived three months earlier, Kate had declined her “plus one” without second thought. She wasn’t with anyone at that moment, and didn’t want to waste time trying to find a date that might not enjoy the event at all. There would be enough people there she knew that she wasn’t worried about going solo; she knew she would still have fun. Then, the following day, Castle had asked her about her invitation and as they were chatting said, “Well, if neither of us is taking anyone, maybe we should go together.”

Keep reading

5

01. someone said, apropos of nothing, that i had the “exact same hair” as the guy who plays guitar at the bar on saturdays, which isn’t entirely true– mine has about another month to go before it fully reaches Jack Nance In Eraserhead level gravity defiance. also, i hope not to go gray for at least another 15 years, thanks

02. the best type of t-shirt is a vaguely upsetting reference about half the people you meet won’t understand, and the other half will be like “why the hell would you stick that on a shirt?” and you’ll be like “i can’t explain it; it expresses something vital about the human condition, though, doesn’t it?” and then no one, including you, will know if you’re being snarky or not

a little hello to all you readers out there

Something terrible happened this week in our fandom, something to such an extend I NEVER would have wanted to witness here. This is supposed to be a safe place, at least I see it that way. And when I say safe place, I mean it in so may different ways. This is a place where we support LOVE, JUSTICE and stand behind people who teach us to treat people with KINDNESS and give back GOODNESS. 

Being here isn’t always sunshine and rainbows, I think we all know and have experienced that. It’s come to a point of people leaving, because it’s too much. And I 100% understand them. I’ve been one of them, but I’ve come back.. Because to me this is love, home, passion, compassion, learning things about myself, learning important things about life. I choose to be here and so do everyone of you also. You choose to be here, you choose to act the way you do. Take a step back for a moment, to understand that, to stand behind that person you are. 

I know, being a fic rec blog, that I do post things that aren’t suitable, in my opinion, for underage people. And I would like to take this moment to address everyone who is, if there should be one here scrolling through my blog. You deciding to come here, is your own decision and I can’t make you leave, BUT what I want is you to think and think hard, is this what you want.. When you come across a fic that has explicit content, DON’T open it. There’s a reason these warnings exist! At a certain age, you feel like you´re an adult and you want to experience things that maybe you’re body and/or mind isn’t really ready for, I know that. But maybe take a step back and try to be responsible for yourself. Be responsible. If you start to feel uncomfortable or anxious or anything in that direction, please stop reading, close the page and learn from your experience. You deciding to be here, means you’re responsible for yourself, no matter your age. I haven’t, the writer hasn’t, no one else but you have decided to make this decision. So, please take care of yourself. Rather be safe than sorry. 

To all the writers out there, I would like to remind you of the use of warnings there is in ao3. We all do want to be safe and it’s amazing and important that ao3 has that warning system, so let’s keep embracing it!

To get back to the happenings of this week.. Where is the love? Where is the respect? Where is the kindness? Things and accusations and name calling has been flying around, when the reason behind it all has been wrong. Hurt and anger might have made it happen but the topics that have been talked about and the things that have been accused of these people, are serious and should not under any circumstances be played around. If there was a case of any kind of abuse, it should be dealt with respect and not spread around this site like some gossip. 

Spreading lies about others is unacceptable! Believing in different truths is life. And we have a lot of bullying because of that, in our fandom. And it makes this place feel like hell sometimes. BUT when it comes personal, when the lies and bullying and name calling become things that are directed towards one or two or three people, IT IS UNACCEPTABLE!! When the accusations are so severe, it it not something you can just brush off, YOU DON’T DO IT! (If you actually are in a position where you feel like you are being abused, you find an adult and preferably also a professional who can help you process the experiences and then after that you can contact the person who has abused you if it feels like something you can do.) 

I would like to ask everyone to have a moment to think, to reevaluate this situation. Not only to think about others actions but to think of your own. Do you believe in something because others told you to believe in it, or because the topics were so serious you just have to believe or because you listened to all the information and made a decision yourself? 

Remember love and kindness. Remember the reason you are here. Be an adult and know respect. 

Thank you for reading. 

ps. Hope this comes across okay with my english. 

anonymous asked:

“You’re the most important person in my life.” Logan to Roman? Emotional Logan :0

Summary: Roman thinks Logan is trying to break up with him by letting him down gently, it’s quite the opposite really. 

Warnings: icky things called emotions (none really)

Word count: 820

Tag list: (ask to be added or removed) @tssanderssidestrash @hanramz-the-fander @alwaysmy-lilith


It had been around four days. Well, four nights that Roman had spent alone and he’s sick of it. He knew dating Logan wouldn’t be a breeze, they had their differences and disagreements but now it was almost smooth sailing. Until Logan withdrew himself. He shut himself in his room for days, not spoken to him either. Roman deduces this can only mean one thing… he’s going to break up with him.

Keep reading

français // Jack (pt 2)

part one <3

(1,168 words)

a/n: hey everyone! i’m terribly sorry for cranking this out so late but i got to writing and i finished! although it’s quite choppy and it has a strange ending, i finished! this is noT my best work, whatsoever, but i hope you will at least enjoy this a teensie bit (:

ps ~ lol #jachary is real k bye 


“Hot dog or hamburger?” Jonah asks me.

“Eh?” I shake my daydreams away, “Oh, hot dog, please.”

He grabs tongs and gets a weanie from the grill. Corbyn passes by and smiles slyly, “Looks like you’re putting that sausage between those buns, huh?”

I burst out laughing at Corb’s dirty joke and fall to the floor, howling, “PPPFFFFFTTTTT,”

Jonah rolls his eyes and pushes Corbyn away with his forearm, “What are you, an 8th grader?”

Corbyn smirks, “Mayyyyyybe,”

“Get out of here unless you’re gonna help.” Jonah plates the hot dog and gives it to me. Corbyn shrugs and sits down on a stool, starting up a conversation with Jonah.

As I walk away, I look for Jack, wanting to sit down by him. I expect to find him sitting by himself, scrolling through his phone as he eats his food but instead I see him and Zach sitting in the grass, Jack’s head against Zach as they talk about something. I walk around them from a distance so they wouldn’t see me and I sit down on a rock under the shade. I vaguely hear them talk about dogs and Selena Gomez. I laugh, listening to their dumb conversation.

“Whatcha doing?” I hear a voice behind me and I jump about 3 feet into the air. I turn to see a toothy grin on Dani’s face.

“You scared me, Seavey!” I scold him as he chuckles, sitting down beside me.

“But really, what are you doing?” He asks again.

I bite my lip, “Nothing, nothing. Just eating, you know how it is.”

Daniel smiles and nods. I pull the Coca-Cola, that I had grabbed when Jonah was serving me food, to my lips and take a swig.

“You were watching Jack and Zach, weren’t you?”

I almost spit out my soda, “W-what?”

“You haven’t touched your hot dog.”

“I was about to,”

“You bite your lip when you lie.”

“I don’t.”

“You’re doing it right now,” He points out.

I roll my eyes and realize he’s right.

“(y/n), do you like Zach?”

I shake my head rapidly.

“Do you like Jack?”

I hesitate and realize that hesitating means yes, and Dani knows that. I shake my head even faster, not saying a single word.

“(y/n),”

“No.”

“(y/n),”

I look down.

“Let me ask you again: do you like Jack?”

I don’t say anything.

“Hm?”

I nod slowly.

“Does he know?”

I don’t do anything.

“(y/n), does he?”

I look at him. He scans my face, reading my eyes the way Zach had.

“He… he does, doesn’t he?”

I nod again.

“(y/n)…”

“I don’t know how to break it to the boys.”

“Wait… you’re d…da…”

I bite my lip.

His blue eyes widen with realization, “Oh.”

“Mhm.” I mutter.

“Oh. Oh.” He says, “Do you want me to tell them?”

“NO! No, no! Don’t, please.” I say a bit too loud. Jack lifts his head from Zach’s bare shoulder and looks over to me. I wince in disappointment at myself. Jack stands up and walks to us.

“What’s going on?” Jack asks.

I look up at him with an expression that only he can read. Jack’s eyes widen, “Really?”

I nod. He brings his fingers up to his temple and rubs, “Crap.”

“Does Zach know?” Daniel asks.

“Know what?” Zach appears with a mouthful of food and his phone in his hand.

Daniel and I stand up instantly, “Nothing.”

Zach’s eyebrows knit together, “What do you mean nothing?”

“It doesn’t concern you, Zach,” Jack says.

RUDE,” Zach frowns, “Just because I’m a few years younger than you guys doesn’t mean you can ex-”

“ZACH!” We all yell.

“WHAT!” He yells back.

Ne lui dit pas [Don’t tell him],” I say to Jack.

Pourquoi devrais-je lui parler de notre relation secrète, (y/n)? Ce serait idiot. [Why would I tell him about our secret relationship, (y/n)? That’d be idiotic]” He retorts.

“It’s idiotic to let me have my phone out and translate what you’re saying while you speak French to your girlfriend, Jack!” Zach cries, “Thanks a lot, baby!”

Before Jack can protest, Zach grabs his face and brings him to his lips. Zach presses a kiss to Jack’s forehead and pushes Jack away, “THAT’S ALL I NEEDED TO DO!”

“Zach, I’m sorry, I should’ve told you,” He says.

He stops. He places his phone on the ground and takes a deep breath.

“Let me take a second to process this: my best friend has a girlfriend that he didn’t tell me about,” Zach closes his eyes and starts screaming, “JACK AVERY’S GIRLFRIEND IS (y/n) (y/l/n), EVERYONE!”

“ZACH!”

“What? I don’t keep things from other people like some people! Corbyn and Jonah deserve to know!” Zach turns away and starts to walk to the boys but Jack stops him.

“Zach, wait,” Jack turns Zach around and slams a kiss to his forehead, “You will always be my brother, Zach. (y/n) can’t get in the way of that.”

I watch Zach’s expression melt from anger to confusion then to neutral. Zach wraps his arms around Jack and hugs him tightly, “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Jack smiles.

“But I’m still telling Corbyn and Jonah,” He says, eyebrow raised.

Jack sighs, “Well, go ahead.”

“I love you, bro.” Zach says, grinning.

“Love you too.”

His arm is wrapped around my shoulder throughout the entire conversation. Well, it was more answering questions that the boys had about him and I.

“How long have you two been keeping this relationship a secret?”

“About two mont-”

“Where did you learn French?”

“This one app and we pra-”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“We were hoping that we’d be ab-”

“Do you think we’d judge you two?”

“No, we were just hoping for some priv-”

“Well we don’t! We love you two!”

“We know and we l-”

“You kno-”

Jack gets annoyed and yells at Jonah, “LET ME FINISH”

Jonah rolls his eyes, “FIIIINE! SAY WHAT YOU NEED TO SAY”

Jack looks over to me and smiles. He presses his lips to mine in front of the boys. When he pulls away, I look over to them and they all wear faces of disgust. I laugh and fling my leg onto Jack’s lap and hug him, planting kisses all over his jaw and cheeks.

“EW STOP” Zach pretends to gag.

“You’re just jealous you aren’t the one being kissed, Zach,” Daniel giggles.

Zach’s cheeks turn a brighter red and all our jaws drop, “Zach wants a girlfriend!”

“Do not!” He replies quickly.

“Don’t worry, Zachiepoo! We’ll get you a girlfriend,” I smile and wink. He frowns, “Y’all are pretty fu-”

“Get Zach’s phone! We’re gonna make this boy a Tinder!”

Corbyn grabs Zach’s phone from his lap and throws it at Jack and I. Jack unlocks it and looks through the app store for the dating app, “Don’t worry, bud. You’ll have a girlfriend in no time.”

We all laugh as Jack stands up and runs away from Zach, who’s trying to get his phone back.

At least they were focused on getting Zach a girlfriend that they didn’t care about mine and Jack’s relationship…right?

(Thanks for the ask @mrblade65654654!)

Scout: Telling that one joke to Pauling, it may have canceled his chances at a date ‘Urgh, why did I bring up that lemur and Montana?!’

Engineer: He has 11 PhDs. ONLY 11! Urgh, how embarrassing…

Sniper: Telling his parents he was working as a mercenary… Dark day for Mr. Mundy…

Soldier: HE ONLY PUNCHED 327 NAZIS IN HIS TOUR IN POLAND or at least who seemed like a Nazi, his helmet was too low to see.. That’s just embarrassing.

Demoman: His mum never lets him forget the fact he still has an eye. Jeez, mum, HE KNOWS!

Medic: Well, I can tell you what he DOESN’T regret… Losing his Medical Licence. Worth! IT!

Pyro: Never having enough lollipops for all the babies on the battlefield, they always feel so guilty that not everyone got one :( They hope the bubbles were good enough though!!!

Heavy: Leaving his family behind in Russia, though he’s glad they don’t have to see what kind of work he does.

Spy: (I actually can’t think of one for Spy, he’s very good at either hiding his emotions or faking them… So, by canon standards, there is no concrete evidence of Spy actually showing regret over anything… This including the Dad situation.) 

anonymous asked:

You have any photos of Stevie that show off her figure during Bella Donna through wild heart?

Well, I hate to say it, but I’m going to utterly fail this request.  I can’t find anything from those eras that really show off her figure.  She’s a very covered up gal!  Here are some consolation picks for you.  In the Bob Welch ones, she’s at least showing off some major leg in her mini skirt, and you can really see how tiny she is here.

The only other picks that come to mind are some live Bella Donna ones.

Sorry I couldn’t do better for you!  Hope you at least like these :)

ellelan  asked:

18. “I’ll be here as long as it takes.” - silverflint

This turned into about 1650 words of something that starts off angsty and ends…hopeful? Happy? Something in between. Nothing explicit here, just some weird pining-y stuff and eventually a kiss. Set several years past the end of season 4. Mentions of Flintham but I’m not going to tag it that way because we all know what would happen then. ;)

I hope you like it, Elle! Thank you! ❤️


Keep reading

anonymous asked:

23 please

Hey anon! Sorry it took me so long… And sorry for any mistakes… I hope you at least like it? :D

Prompt: “How are we getting out of this one?”

It’s cold, dark and Clarke just can’t understand why everytime something has to go wrong. She’s sitting down against the hard wall of tunnel, eyes closed because she can’t see anything anyway, the only sound filling the small space they are trapped is Bellamy trying to move the caved in rocks.

“Come on, Bellamy.” She whispers, lifting her head up and turning on their flash light, pointing it towards him.

He has his back on her, with one hand trying to move the rocks blocking their way out while the other just hangs on his side because his shoulder got dislocated during the cave in.

“Turn off the damn flash light, Clarke. We will need the battery” he tells her but she chooses to ignore him.

“I won’t. Unless you come over here and sit down with me.” She argues, making Bellamy turn around and glare at her.

“Sitting down won’t help us get out of here.” He says, wanting to sound angry but angry is the only thing he doesn’t sound like.

Clarke sighs and lowers the light to his good hand, “Like hurting your only good hand will do us any good,” she nods towards his blooded fingers. He quickly closes them to a fist and hides them behind his back.

“I’m fine” he whispers and turns his back on her again, staring at the wall of huge rocks. Then he hears Clarke moving and snaps to her. “What the hell are you doing?!” he rushes to her and catches her before her broken leg gives in on her.

“I just-”

“You’re just being stubborn” he cuts her off and he sits both of them down, “If you start bleeding again, I’m gonna kill you.”

A small smile cracks on her lips and she leans her head back against the wall again, letting Bellamy hold her hand. “I’ll be fine.” she whispers, more to herself than for Bellamy but he squeezes her hand which means he heard it anyway.

Clarke turns her head to face Bellamy, a single tear rolls down her face, “How are we getting out of this one?” she asks and he can hear the pain and fear in her voice.

He only smiles and kisses her cheek, “Don’t worry. I’m sure Kane already has Raven looking for us. We just- need to stay alive.”

She sighs and closes her eyes, “Yeah, just stay alive… I’m tired of trying to ‘just stay alive’, Bell.”

Bellamy pulls her closer, “I know, Clarke. Me too. But I would appreciate it if you stayed alive a little bit long… Maybe for me?” he glances at her from the corner of his eyes, “For maybe another, I don’t know, hundred years?” he jokes and earns a weak punch on his good shoulder.

“Shut up,” Clarke laughs and closes her eyes again, letting her head fall on Bellamy’s shoulder. “Only if you stay alive with me.” she whispers a few minutes later and next time she opens her eyes, they are in Arkadia.

Send me a number/prompt from this list and I will write a small Bellarke story :D

maztermo submitted to gammaswap:

praying this works

I made some Gamma girls because I love them all. The reason why it’s a gif (or at least, it should be a gif) is because I don’t exactly know what colour Kaegor’s eyes are and I made a dead version of Kionna because ???

Hope you like them! Not sure if I’ll do the boys ‘cause it took me like two weeks to finish this…

THIS IS SO GOOD THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :0 Don’t stress yourself, you’ve done plenty and they’re all super good!!!

-Mod Finn

anonymous asked:

I mean you could ask the same question about the purse snatcher with the gigantification quirk from the very beginning, or AFO who's just chilling in prison while holding onto tons of quirks he could use to escape. From the track record so far you probably won't get an explanation.

i have asked these questions before, and remain perpetually unsatisfied, but horikoshi did bust out that “quirk factor” explanation like 100 chapters into the series instead of introducing it at the beginning as like, a fundamental aspect of his worldbuilding, so im hoping that at SOME point at least i will get a somewhat plausible explanation

barbiebrival  asked:

One quick question~ You write Kino? If so~ (still if not) May I request most to least to accept their s/o wants to adopt and adopting(and why or why not)? :3 Thanks and keep the good work!

Admin Sam : (▰˘◡˘▰) Sure! I’ll try my best.


Most To Least Likely 


  1. Azusa Mukami
  2. Laito Sakamaki
  3. Subaru Sakamaki 
  4. Kou Mukami 
  5. Shuu Sakamaki
  6. Yuma Mukami
  7. Kino
  8. Ruki Mukami
  9. Kanato Sakamaki
  10. Ayato Sakamaki
  11. Reiji Sakamaki

Keep reading

You know what Anezka’s death is a good opportunity for? Letting Petra feel things. I hope the stuff with being paralyzed comes up, how complicated her relationship with her sister was, how she was just starting to make progress with Anezka

Don’t sweep Petra’s trauma under the rug like you always do jtv. Let her to talk to someone, and honestly someone other than Rafael. Krishna or Jane. Or both! She’s emotionally constipated, I get that, but at least indicate that she’s feeling something, and Jane at least knows when Petra is hurting even when Petra isn’t communicating it verbally.