i need to stop making these and get some help

Quotes I've Said While Reading Fics PT. 4

*thinking to myself* Oh god, how do I respond? How does one respond when your mother asks what you’re reading. I’m reading smut, mom.
*Out loud* Oh, just an online story.

“She seems too nice. This won’t end well…”

“I can’t even focus on the words, it’s 2 am, the screen is swimming. I need to go to bed.”

“Oh! I know the perfect song to go with this chapter!”

“Did you make a fucking Frozen reference? Followed by a Mean Girls reference? No.”

“That’s inaccurate.”

“What is punctuation? This person doesn’t know.”

“This is just words. Where are the paragraphs?”

“This isn’t proper grammar or spelling. Stop it. Get some help.”

“Wow, what a sick burn!” *Ironically dabs*

“In the words of Daniel James Howell: back thE FUCK UP.”

“Don’t these characters know that death is bad for someone’s health?”

“Oh my god! Clean and sharpen your knife! If you keep using it without proper care, it won’t kill people as easily!” *Whispers* “I’m sane, I promise.”

“I swear if he does what I think he will, I’m throwing my phone.”

“I’m talking to myself, shit.”

there’s a rule about taking Doctor Who seriously and it’s that to take it seriously you need to not take it too seriously 

this show doesn’t take itself seriously, no matter how dark it might get at times

this isn’t some fucking gritty Edgelord show, this is a show watched by millions of children about hope and belief and trying to help people even when it seems hopeless and even when it doesn’t work, we should never hope that anyone in it stays dead, especially not anyone that represents so much for so many

above all we should never as older fans want anything for it that would take away from the enjoyment of the younger fans

you can’t treat it the same way you would a lot of other shows. its demographic is anyone who is willing to believe in it, anyone of any age. 

this is a show about an idiot in a magical box who fixes things with a screwdriver and a belief in the goodness of people

an idiot who gets into ridiculous situations that are often also dire, who saves the day always but only uses violence as a last resort, who tries to win with words and cleverness first 

over the last few years it’s been one of the only shows on television still trying to tell a hopeful story in a world obsessed with Edgy Cynical Realism, while never shying away from how harsh the universe can be

it is a show about possibility where almost any thing or person or story that can be imagined could be plausible (hello, people being killed by plastic inflatable chairs, a small box being infinitely huge on the inside, a lesbian being saved by her magical star girlfriend)

it is a show created by lifelong fans, it is a constant love letter to itself with stupid little in jokes and nostalgic trips, and above all it is a message and lesson of hope and kindness

take it or leave it but that is what it will or at least should always be



“Hi, I’m new here, can you show me around?”
“Uh.. I think I’m lost.”
“Wow, those are some awesome threads!”
“Don’t mind me, I just like making new friends!”
“Oh dear, do you need help?”
“You look like you could use a hand.”
“You look a little lost, can I be of assistance?”


“Watch where you’re going.”
“Oops, did I do that?.. Oh well.”
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
“Get lost, would ya?”
“I don’t have time to play tour guide.”
“Thankfully, it’s not my job to help you.”


“Wait! Stop!”
“Don’t let them find us.”
“I don’t wanna be left alone.”
“Get out of the way!”
“Are you dead?”
“Hurry! Run!”


“Can I skip dinner and go right for dessert?”
“I think I just found the most beautiful girl in Japan.”
“Hey there, Foxy Mama.”
“Huh? Oh yeah, this view is nice.”
“How about we go back to my place? I’ve got board games.”
“All you have to do is say, "yes”.


“Wow, your eyes are the most beautiful, that I’ve ever seen.”
“I’ve been enchanted by your amazing voice.”
“Ah, I’m sorry, I could have sworn you were an angel.”
“Am I dreaming, or do you really exist?”
“I wasn’t aware that Goddesses/Gods existed.”
“No flower or scenery can compare to your beauty.”


“At long last! I’ve finally found you! Now I can kill you!”
“What an ugly mug, it’s a good thing I won’t have to see you for long.”
“How would you like to be full of holes?”
“You know, I think your head looks better detached from your body. ”
“I will make you experience unimaginable pain.”
“Beg all you want, but your fate is going to end the same way.”


“Love is illogical, it means nothing to me.”
“The more you cry, the more reasons I find to leave your pathetic being.”
“Do not touch me, I don’t require affection from anyone.”
“Why are you hugging me?”
“He’s dead, let’s move on.”
“Why is family so important to you?”.

I think one of the fears that comes up when you talk about setting and respecting very firm boundaries is that someone is going to game the system.  That they’re going to claim that every one of their dislikes is an absolute hard limit, and find ways to argue that they have a boundary against not getting their way in everything.  And every time you try to make some kind of argument about which boundaries are unusual-but-reasonable and which are just them being a tiny dictator, they’re going to say “so you’re deciding which of my boundaries you’re okay with violating?”

In my experience, this fear is… totally well-founded and the only solution is to stop being friends with people who do that.  Sorry.

(I could add something here about “it’s not spite, this is to help both of you be safe since you clearly have incompatible needs,” but it’s totally spite.)

superhero sentence starters 

  • what’s the point of fighting if no one appreciates it? 
  • why do you keep doing this? why do you keep trying to protect people when they never give you a word of thanks? 
  • you’re so brave. i don’t know if i could ever be like that. ‘
  • i’m your biggest fan! autograph? please? 
  • you… you saved my life. 
  • don’t worry about it. it’s what i do. 
  • what’s it like being able to fly? ‘
  • i could show you, you know. you okay with being carried? ‘
  •  ‘ stay down! it’s too dangerous! 
  • get behind me. ‘
  • oh my god… it’s really you. ‘
  • just try to fucking stop me, ‘hero.’ ‘
  • you can’t save anyone. you can try, but you’re never going to make a difference. ‘
  • i try so hard to help people. i try so fucking hard. but i’m just not strong enough. 
  • it’s going to explode! get out of here, get out of here now! ‘
  • put. the gun. down. 
  • i can help you. you don’t need to do this. please. 
  • what’s the point of protecting people when i can’t even protect you? ‘
  • you tried so hard to save other people that you stopped caring about yourself. ‘
  • i know you have powers, but it’s still too dangerous! you’re going to die in there! please, it’s not worth it! ‘
  • i know i act like i’m not scared of anything, but the truth is… i’m terrified. ‘
  • everyone hates you. you can’t protect this city, you’re only making things worse around here. just leave. everyone would be better off without you. ‘ 
  • i don’t need some hero to save me! i’m fine on my own, thank you very much. ‘
  • i hate heroes. they always try to get involved in everything. just leave me alone, okay? i don’t need your help. ‘ 
  • help! please! someone! ‘
  • who knew the hero would be the one getting saved? ‘
  • you’re out of control. you’re hurting more people than you’re helping. just stop. let the cops handle this. ‘
  • how do i know i can trust you? ‘
  • you never give up, you never stop fighting. why?
  • you need to take a break. the city will be okay without a hero for one day. get some rest. ‘
  • i can’t take a break, what if someone needs my help? what if someone gets because i was too busy taking a nap?! i don’t need a break! ‘
An Open Letter to Leigh Bardugo

Hello, Leigh ( @lbardugo )! It’s your friendly-neighborhood Baillie! 

I wanted to address the presents I’ve been giving (maybe shoving?) your way. While it’s been fun for me to create things that you (and whatever authors I end up latching on to) might enjoy–someone I volunteered with yesterday at the festival warned me to stop because you were probably uncomfortable with the gifts. 

And it broke my heart.

A little background on why I started giving you gifts: 

The last time I tried to give a friend a present, a personalized and signed copy of Vampire Academy, she accepted with a “Nice! I’ll add it to my collection!” And while I know she meant no harm–instead, meaning to make a joke about how many copies of tVA she had–it kind of made me recoil. It was a present that took hours of action (and standing in line) and a bit of planning to make sure we could get her this present. And my gesture was brushed aside.

I’ve enjoyed giving presents to friends for years and since then I stopped. Which is heartbreaking since I also feel inclined to stop keeping in contact with my friends because, in my mind, this brushoff is some sort of rejection. Even now making friends at my university is kept at a no-present policy so I don’t scare anybody off.

So I turned to authors because I figured they deserve presents and goodies after writing so much and I know I appreciate them to the moon and back. And I know some authors have to deal with mean people a lot and sometimes just need something nice.

I’ll be the first one to admit that my obsession with you increased tenfold when I ended up with SoC at SDCC (and I actually cried walking away from the Fierce Reads booth). Actually–I walk away from almost every interaction with you about to cry because I’m always in such complete and utter awe of your presence. The more I hear you talk at signings and at panels and even just on twitter– it’s more and more clear that you’re a fantastic and amazing person. 

And by no means do I want to make you uncomfortable with my presents.

But please, please, please let me know if it makes you uncomfortable or you truly want me to stop. I just had never stopped to even consider your side of things. 

It makes me feel incredibly selfish.

My Best Regards, 



To Better Explain your gift basket from YallWest: 

Blue Eyeshadow + Red/Gold Lipstick= Wonder Woman inspired Makeup

Fan: I thought I would get to you sooner and that it might help with the heat

Eyelashes: They Reminded me of Six of Crows

Justice League Stickers: I gave the same ones to Marie Lu. Just DC related.

Other Stickers: They were cute? 

Glow Sticks: Some events just need glowsticks

How to Begin

Anonymous asked: “How do you get past the planning stage of writing a novel?”

Personally, I try to plan as little as I can. I don’t have the patience to wait. I like to be writing. For major planners though, I know this can be the most daunting step. You’ve worked so hard to plan out a perfect book and now you have to sit down and write it. 

Keep reading

While I’m bored and on the subject of random RWBY things. 

One thing I really love is the idea of Weiss and Yang being team caretaker. Like even for their friends. 

Weiss is always making sure everyone is doing their homework and taking notes in class. She’ll help any of her friends with their work, but she’s the type that will NOT do the work for you. She’ll make you do it and help when she feels necessary. 

Meanwhile Yang is the “you just put in a workout, you need to drink some water and eat something” kind of friend. Or if someone has had trouble sleeping Yang will make them warm milk, sit and talk or just go running with them to help them burn off some energy. 

Weiss and Yang also have kind of flighty partners, for different reasons. I think there have been many nights where Yang has had to drag Blake out of a book and remind her that she needed to go to bed. Just as Weiss has pulled Ruby away from weapon maintenance because they had a big test the next day. 

Then it gets more serious when Yang (as we’ve seen) has to reach Blake to make her stop thinking she needs to save the world with every breath she takes. That it’s okay to relax and do things for herself. Many nights have come and gone where Yang is up texting Blake even though they’re on the same bunk beds, just listening as Blake opens up about all the things she wants to fix and all the things she cares about. As determined as Yang is to help her with them, she’s just as determined to make sure Blake doesn’t get lost in them either. 

Then there’s Ruby, who has her own hero complex and wants everything to be right or wrong and that can sometimes be frustrating. Like Blake, I imagine Ruby sees bad things in the news and instantly wonders why she couldn’t fix it. Why she wasn’t ready yet to help more people and do more things and Weiss has to keep her grounded. 

Not to mention that I still believe they had a very good few moments together at the end of V3 before Weiss’ father came for her where Blake was gone and Ruby was still out and it was just the two of them and they both knew bad times were coming and they had a definite bonding moment. I think that’s part of why I wanted them to find each other first in the reunion. If anyone can get shit done. It’s Weiss and Yang. 

anonymous asked:

Aftershock was a gift. We got angsty Jason, Kimberly making dad jokes, Trimberly, Kimberly trying to get Trini to admit she cares for the rangers, Billy helping Zack get past self esteem issues, Trini and Jason being the brotp I didn't know I needed, it was a pure gift

It really was! Seeing more team bonding with my kids always makes me happy. And Trini calling Kimberly ‘Kimmy’ and helping out her big bro Jason while also calling him ‘boss’ all the time because he hates it because she’s a little shit, and some hints about Zack’s dad and how much him not being there bothers him (which I really hope we see more of in a sequel if we get one) and Billy trying to comfort him, they can bond over their dads not being there, and Trini using a ‘Stop’ sign to fight putties because she’s so extra. 


The fact that the artist drew Becky’s flawless jawline never ceases to amaze me

Shirtless Zack is something we needed to see in the movie because Ludi’s abs are truly out of this world (google that. you’re welcome) like COME ON


AND LOOK HOW HAPPY THEY ARE (Jason will be happy with them too he’s just sad he doesn’t know what a flank or counter is rn, give the boy some time)

also super extra they posed and everything

anonymous asked:

AU ~ Izuku and Shouto have been boyfriends for a while and its inevitable that they can't spend as much time as they want with each other with them being heroes. They share a bed and apartment together and they both make a fun bet on who will get a call in the middle of the night. Izuku probably hates whenever Shouto gets the call because then he looses his personal bed heater/cooler. It's a given that they both sleep more peacefully when neither of them get a call in the middle of the night

Even though they can’t spend as much time with each other as they would have wanted to, they definitely are capable of slipping in some of that couplely goodness cuz they aren’t heroes for nothing; i’m talking about quick kisses in the mornings, make-out sessions in the dark corridors of their hero agencies, and, my favourite, banter while they happen to be fighting the same villains:

“The toilet is clogged.” a punch to a villain’s face.

“I’ll call a plumber later; we also ran out of paper towels.” a quick side step, then pinpointed flames.

“We need to start up the laundry again–i think we left the last batch in the wash for three days.” a precise jab to the throat.

“Right, we need to stop doing that.” shards of ice rise from seemingly out of nowhere.

and so forth. other heroes are baffled and think they should be taking the fights seriously, but thing is, they are, and the banter does nothing but help them focus better. Some of these highly endearing exchanges are caught on camera, and the popularity of Hero Deku and Hero Shouto skyrocket from that alone, cuz domestic heroes are the best kinds of heroes.

despite making a bet of who, of the two, will get called in the middle of the night, they’re both pretty anxious because nightlife crime is significantly worse and more common than daylight crime. oftentimes they will wait up for each other, even if it takes several hours for the other to come back. 

while izuku would miss his heater/cooler, he will also miss the quiet huffs of shouto’s breathing (an audible sign that shouto is alive and safe), watching the rise and fall of shouto’s chest (a visual sign that shouto is alive and safe), and just shouto being there (the most blatant, obvious sigh that shouto is alive and safe).

(okay but I need to say it out loud just once because I just can’t help and I’m thinking about this until the Day 1 we saw Harry playing his guitar and I always want to laugh so i need to get this out of my mind once for good) :

the way he’s holding his guitar very high and the neck so raised up, I always think he’s suddenly gonna stop his song in the middle and play some flamenco music instead.


Hii! I know it’s been long but I kinda got stuck with this one, so this time I took inspiration from real life here and there. Hope you like it!

“I don’t like you" she said bluntly, in the same tone as one would say "I bought a new shirt today”.

He blinked several times, taken aback by her statement. It was completely out of the blue… he was just talking about the new Fleetwood vinyl he got earlier that day, couldn’t see any reason why that would lead her to such emotion.
He knew he could be a bit boring sometimes, loosing himself in frivolous details, - the flat tone and all that - but still that didn’t seem to bother her the times the two of them had engaged a conversation.

“Whaa-?…why?“ He blabbered, very confused. She didn’t know why she said that, or better, she knew why but she didn’t mean to come off so brutal, and besides, it wasn’t properly necessary. She sipped on her drink and looked around the pub, avoiding his hard stare that was burning her left profile, she was trying to think about something to explain herself. Shit, she had this amazing talent to get herself in the loveliest situations.

“I don’t know… I guess you try too much?“ She said hesitant with a questioning tone, as to ask him confirmation, still not meeting his eyes.

“I try what too much?“ He asked back, starting to feel offended at that point.

"To be liked! You try too much to be liked, I guess… I never know if what you say is what you really think or what people want to hear… It’s fucked up man, that’s what it is… And for that, I don’t like you!" She rambled, not knowing how to word her thoughts properly and getting nervous.

Keep reading

I’ll Be There || Jughead Jones

Originally posted by newtmqs

word count : 644

pairing : Jughead x Reader

warnings : being sick, puking (not graphic).

summary : you’ve been sick all week and not at school, so jughead comes to check up on you and makes you chicken soup. 

a/n : a smallish, really fluffy imagine. i was just really in the mood for some fluffy juggie. part two of ‘the news room’  will be put out tomorrow sometime! 

requests are open

     It cam on really quick, it had seemed like one minute you were in perfect and then the next you were puking your guts out. You hadn’t been in the school for the last week; heck you hadn’t been out of your bed. You slept most of the day away and the times you weren’t sleeping you were blowing your nose or vomiting. You could honestly say you wanted to go to school; after spending much more then 120 hours alone in your room you would take any opportunity to get out of these four walls. 

     For what felt like the millionth time, you woke up to the queasy feeling in you stomach. You would give anything to stop that, out of all your symptoms the upset stomach was the worst. You held you hand to your mouth; eyes slamming closed as you tried to focus on anything but the sickness in your stomach. 

     Maybe a few moments later there was a knock on your door then your door slowly creaking open. “Y/N?” you heard a soft voice say. You could recognize it anywhere. It belong best friend and major crush, Jughead Jones. You guys honestly hadn’t been friends for all that long; just a few months at the most, but in that time you’ve become really close to each other. “Is everything okay? You haven’t been in school all work and you aren’t answering you phone…and it’s really dark in here..” He said, basically stating everything in sight. 

     You barked a laugh, opening you eyes and looking over at him. “Thanks Captain Obvious. I thought you were some kind of detective, I’m sick.” You mumbled, voice low and croaky. You could hear his bag slid to the ground and then him coming closer to the bed. “You should have told me, I would have come over and helped you get better. I make a mean chicken noodle soup.” He said, a pout on his lips. “Yeah; a soup I would just throw up.” You replied back, slowly sitting up in your bed. 

      The raven haired male hand’s shot out to stop you, slowly making you lay back down. “No, you need your rest. Just wait right here: I’m going to make you some soup; just broth since you stomach is still finicky.” He told you as he turned and ran to your kitchen.

     Within an hour, Jughead had made and hand fed you. “Okay, that did make me feel a little better.” You mumbled lightly. “See, I know what I’m doing Y/N. I learned it from my mother.” He said lightly as he moved to get up off your bed. “No!” You blurted without thinking. The loner gave you a questionable look, setting the bowl on the night stand to give you his full attention. 

     Blood rushed to the top layer of your skin and you began to feel thankful your room was a bit dark. “Could…Could you stay in the bed with me for a little? I…just really want to cuddle right now. I think it might make me feel better.” You said softly, eyes anywhere but on him. You could hear him laugh softly; obviously not at you at all though. “Of course; anything to make you feel better.” He said lightly as he slipped off his jacket before moving in closer to you in the bed. 

     The two of you shifted around in the bed until your were laying on his chest, ear pressed into the soft cloth as you listened to his heart beat, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. You allowed your eyes to close, feeling comfortable in his arms. “I’m glad I came over, Y/N. You shouldn’t have to be sick and alone.” He said softly as he rubbed small circles into your back. You only hummed in response as you feel into a light slumber. 

Tips for getting a good nights sleep

2.26.17  030

I hope some of these tips help you guys  ♡

1. Don’t eat right before going to bed

2. Listen to rain on a timer you can do this by going to your timer and select stop playing

3. Don’t play timed games it’ll make you feel even more awake

4. Try not to use your phone if so have to try to use the night shift option

5. Drink decaffeinated tea preferably sleepy time ones

6. Spray lavender or soothing smells helps soothe/ de-stress

7.Try to do everything you need to do have everything thing ready for the next day

8. Read or de-stress right before

9. Clean your sheets it might just be me but i love getting into fresh sheets

10. Write in a journal get those last minute thought onto paper or set up what you need to do tomorrow

anonymous asked:

Can you write a harry imagine/blurb where he gets really sick when you guys are visiting your family and he wakes you up in the middle of the night really upset because his stomach really isn't feeling well and he doesn't know what to do and he's really anxious because he doesn't want to ruin anything? Thanks!!!

This sounds super cute, so for sure! I’m currently working on a longer imagine that wasn’t requested, but I wanted to post something to hold ya’ll over for a little while. Send me requests!

The clock was blinking bright red at Harry, informing him that it was currently 2am and for the life of him, he could not sleep. You and Harry had arrived at your mom and dads home earlier in the day and had spent the evening amongst your family, food and drinks, but now Harry’s stomach felt like it was literally ripping itself in half. He didn’t want to wake you, because he knew you had had a long day of driving, just like he had, and you looked so peaceful he felt bad just thinking about it, but after another 30 minutes of tossing and turning, he knew he had to wake you up.

“Love,” he whispered in your ear quietly, his hand pushing loose strands of hair out of your face before stroking your cheek softly. You stirred for a moment, and after a few more strokes of Harry’s thumb across your skin your eyes were slowly opening.

“Hmm?” You let out a confused hum, your eyes struggling to focus as you stretched slightly, looking at the sleepy boy next to you.

“M’sorry for waking you up, pet,” he frowned, his lips resting on your forehead as you tried to wake up. Harry rarely woke you up, so you knew it had to be something serious if he did.

“S’okay, what’s wrong baby?” Your voice was laced with sleep and Harry sent you an apologetic smile.

“Dunno,” he frowned, falling back into the bed but grabbing your hand and placing it on his bare stomach, “My stomach hurts really bad. Won’t go away, and I think I have a fever,” you were quick to sit up, frowning back at him as you placed your hand over his head, your frown deepening as you were also now pretty sure he had a fever.

“I think you’re getting sick, I’ll go make you some tea to calm your stomach? And then we need to put a cold washcloth over your head, see if we can get that fever down,” sleeping had quickly been forgotten as you jumped into action, and Harry couldn’t help but stare at you fondly; you were always so quick to try and help him feel better, whether he was sick or stressed, and it was one of the reasons he had fallen in love with you. 

“You don’ have to do tha’,” he knew you would anyway, but that didn’t stop him from feeling bad. He was also anxious about how this would affect the plans you and your family had for tomorrow, and he couldn’t help but feel bad.

“Nonsense,” in seconds you were flying out of the bedroom, and he could hear the soft patter of your feet against the hardwood floor until you were too far away from him to hear.

20 minutes later you were walking back into your childhood bedroom, a cold washcloth in one hand and a cup of warm tea in the other as you crawled onto the bed, helping Harry sit back up as you handed him the tea and placed the washcloth on his forehead.

“S’got ginger in it,” you were referring to the tea, letting Harry rest on your chest as you both sat up, your fingers running through his hair as he drank his tea and you made sure the washcloth stayed on his forehead, “Supposed to help calm upset stomachs.”

“Thank you, I really do love you,” you could hear the soft smile in his voice as he spoke, your lips pressing a soft kiss to the back of his shoulder, “M’sorry for getting sick, I hope I don’t ruin the plans we have with your mum and dad tomorrow. Couldn’t go ahead and get sick next week, could I? Had to be this week,” he was frowning once again, and you were quick to shake your head.

“No no no, stop that. You can’t help when you get sick, love. My parents will understand if you’re too sick to go out, and just gives me the chance to dot on you more than usual. My mum will also probably jump to take care of you, she always loved taking care of me when I was sick. Reckon you’ll get some nice home cooked chicken noodle soup,” Harry let out a quiet laugh, because he knew your mum was the kind to go overboard when someone was sick, even if it was just a cough. 

An hour passed and Harry’s tea was long gone, the fever had gone down and so had the stomach ache, though he wasn’t feeling completely better, he was sure he would be able to sleep finally. You were both lying down now, Harry cuddled into your side as you rubbed his head softly, your other hand running up and down his shoulder slowly

“Have I told ya’ m’gonna marry ya one day?” Now his voice was the one laced with sleep, his arms tightening around you as he spoke, his lips placing a soft kiss on the exposed skin of your chest.

“You’ve mentioned it once or twice,” the way your heart jumped at the words confirmed that no matter how many times he said it, you probably weren’t going to believe it even when you were walking down the aisle.

“Well I’m gonna mention it a million more times. I’m so in love with you,” he was drifting to sleep, you could tell by the slight slur in his words, but your heart still melted at the sentiment because you knew he meant.

“I love you, so much.” Soon he was falling asleep in your arms, and you weren’t too far from him

And you had been right, the next morning the second your mum found out Harry was sick she was forcing him onto the couch with a mountain of blankets, hot tea, endless rom-coms, and she began to work on that chicken noodle soup.

3 Years (John x Reader)

Word Count: 3,977

Warnings: Swears, Alcohol, Smut (It’s hella fluffy smut)

Authors Note: So we hit 800? I’m dying I love you guys so much I don’t deserve any of you. Anyways, I wanted to celebrate this milestone with some smut yeah? lol. Get ready, it’s so sweet you could get a cavity. Big thanks to @adolescenthowell for dealing with my smut writing process shit. Go follow her! I LIVE TO HEAR FEEDBACK FROM YOU GUYS AND I LOVE TO JUST HEAR FROM YOU IN GENERAL. PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THOUGHT. I LOVE YOU GUYS!

Requests:  Reader x Laurens where they go out with the squad and reader looks really hot and Laurens whose like in love with reader can’t control himself and maybe leads to smut if you’re ok with that

John Laurens + reader teasing him while they’re at a bar?


Friday night meant going out with your friends for drinks, especially after you had met Alexander. You and Alex had met in college and after that you two hit it off instantly, doing everything together. You would be lying if you said you two hadn’t hooked up once or twice but you both mutually agreed that you two were better off as friends, you even helped snag Eliza for him. Being friends with Alex meant being friends with his friends, and thankfully they all liked you. All but one. John Laurens. For some reason, you two had created a friendship of your own filled with nothing but dry, sarcastic humor that nobody seemed to understand. You greeted him with insults and he would happily take them and throw one back at you.

You stepped into the taxi and gave the driver the name of the bar as you smoothed out your barely there dress. The forest green silky fabric felt like air to your skin, and you had to make sure you had actually worn clothes out. If the short length wasn’t enough, the dress also was backless as the fabric in the back started below your ribcage. You didn’t know why you had chosen to wear that dress. On Friday nights you had usually opted for a pair of jeans and a nice top but today you felt like dressing up a bit more, and you were definitely feeling yourself. The taxi came to a screeching halt in front of the bar, and you thanked the driver as you handed him a ten dollar bill. You swung your legs out of the cab and gracefully stood up as the New York City breeze hit your body. You smoothed out your hair before walking into the bar.

Keep reading

Cold Hearted-Jon Snow x Reader One Shot

Summary: Requested by annonymus: ‘hey could you write an imagine with Jon Snow where the reader gets like cold and badass after the death of Jon and when he comes back idk you decide. Btw loveeeee your blog ❤ keep up with the good work 💫

Characters: Jon Snow x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)= Your name
(Y/L/N)= Your last name



(A/N: Flashbacks will be within the apostrophes ’)


‘I scrunched up the parchment, my hands starting to shake. This couldn’t be happening, he couldn’t be dead. I thanked the man who brought me the message, who quickly scurried away. As soon as he was gone, I collapsed into my chair by the fireplace, bursting into tears. Looking at the message again, I read it out loud, still trying to process it all.

“Lady (Y/N) (Y/L/N), my deepest apologies. I too am in deep sorrow, our Lord Commander Jon Snow has passed away. My deepest condolences. Ser Davos Seaworth.”

I angrily threw the parchment into the fire, crying out in anger. He had left me here all by myself, venturing off to the Wall and now he was dead. It didn’t matter how he died. For some reason, I was furious with him. Now he was really gone, I would never see him again. All of this time spent waiting and now what? What was I supposed to do with my life?’

I stood beside Lady Sansa, looking down into the courtyard. Sansa had never been the same since arriving here, even before she married Ramsay. Although Brienne used to Sansa’s main bodyguard, I too knew how to weild a weapon, now her new protector as well as a handmaid. After Jon had died out on the Wall, I too turned cold and bitter to those around me. The only way it seemed that anyone would leave me alone was if I learnt how to fight, become intimidating. As soon as everyone else heard word of my dead lover, all I received were sympathetic looks. It drove me mad but now they all left me alone, and that’s how I wanted it to be.

However, I tried to forget about Jon. He was dead, I couldn’t let that bring me down. It was making me soft. But there was a huge problem; wherever I went, I would always see him. I knew they were hallucinations, my mind going mad with grief. At first I thought it was sort of wonderful to see him, though it soon became a curse. No matter how hard I tried, he wouldn’t disappear. There were many endless nights where I would drink myself to sleep to try and make him go away.

“(Y/N).” Sansa grabbed my attention.“I must tell you something of great importance.”

I said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

“I am to leave this place soon. However, I must go alone. I need you to stay here, ensure that no one else will be harmed by Ramsay.”

“M'lady, you cannot be serious. What if you can’t get away?”

“I will.” she sighed.“I know that it has been very hard for you recently, but I must do this to get my home back.”

“I do not want you getting hurt. Please, let me come with you, I can protect you!”

She grabbed my shoulders, looking at me head on.“ I need you here. Promise me you’ll look after our people.”

Hesitantly, I agreed.“I promise.”

“The North remembers.”


It had been so long since Sansa had left. Theon Greyjoy had helped her escape, causing Ramsay to go even more mad, if that was possible. As soon as he found out that she was gone, I had been brought in for questioning. Of course he had tortured me. He as a mad man, there was no limit to what he could do. Long cuts and bruises covered my body now, for some reason he had not killed me, not even close. It wouldn’t have mattered to me, but I made a promise to Sansa.

It was obvious that Ramsay was keeping a close eye on me. After getting nothing out of me, he needed to make sure I wasn’t sneaking behind his back. There wasn’t anything to hide, no one has contacted me in so long.

It had been quiet for quite some time in Winterfell. The people living there were scared for their lives. I acted upon my duty, looking after those who needed help. There were families who would go without money or food, I would try to help them without getting on the wrong side of the Boltons. I would go out hunting late at night or during dawn, providing for those in need. That soon had to stop when Ramsay was organising an army, for what I didn’t know. Who was attacking us?

That wasn’t important. The one thing I needed to do was make sure everyone within the walls was ok. Soldiers were everywhere, either trying to recruit more men or escape the battle themselves. Distant cried of the fighting could be heard within in the walls. Everyone was frightened.

“M'lady! M'lady!” I heard a woman scream.

With weapons in hand, I had been sneaking through the houses of the people living here, checking that no one was harmed.

I rushed to her. She was stood by her front door, frantically waving to grab my attention.“It’s ok, it’s ok. Try to calm down, what’s wrong?”

She took a deep breath.“My daughter is a scullery maid in the castle. She was supposed to be home this morning but has not yet returned. I am worried for her, I do not know what to do!” She was crying.

“I’ll go look for her. I am a handmaiden, they know I work there so they won’t question it. Just stay in your home and I’ll bring her back to you.”

I quickened my pace towards the entrance for all the servants, now hiding my weapons beneath my cloak. The servants had to be hiding, it was silent throughout the castle. Trying to remain as silent as possible, I looked in all rooms which servants had access to, seeing if any were hiding. As I went to open one, it was locked and I knew they were in there. Knocking quietly, I called out to them.

“It’s just me, it’s (Y/N)!”

They knew who I was, I could hear the locks being undone and the door opened. There were many people crammed in here, it was only a small room for some of the cleaning supplies. They dragged me in, bolting the door shut again.

“How long have you all been here?” I asked.

The girl who I was looking for stepped forward.“Ever since dawn broke, when they left for the battle.”

“Your mother is worried for you. I told her I would come looking for you.” she looked guilty though it was not her fault.“And what battle? Who are we fighting?”

A man spoke from the back.“The North.”

The North? The North was finally fighting back! Sansa…she must have had something to do with this. A small smile appeared on my face. What if we won? Would we finally be able to live in peace? Could we really defeat the Boltons?

We ended up staying there for hours. I was going to go out and see what was happening until we heard huge roars that didn’t seem human. Everyone crammed in there was either praying, crying, or holding onto one another. I stood in front of the door, ready for whatever was coming our way.

I groaned.“I’ve had enough of this. I’m going out there to see what is happening.”

The others retaliated, not wanting me to risk their hiding spot. I unsheathed my sword, making them stand back; it was an idle threat, I would never harm them. Walking out into the corridor, I checked my surroundings, everything was clear. Sneaking around the corner, I could hear yells of joy but didn’t know which side had won.

“(Y/N)?” I heard my name be said by a very familiar voice.

I sighed. Why was he here? Why were my hallucinations coming back now? I carried on walking, not wanting to be distracted by my mind tricks.

“(Y/N)! Wait!” His voice was so real.

Stopping in my tracks, I turned around to see him. There he was again, my Jon Snow. However, he didn’t look like he usually did in my dreams. Instead of the fresh faced boy who left Winterfell, he looked more like a man, covered in mud and blood from battle.

“Leave me alone. I am tired of you plaguing my mind. You died a long time ago. I can no longer live like this!” I yelled at him, hoping that would make him disappear.

Jon walked closer to me.“I don’t know what you’re talking about. (Y/N), I’m back. I’ve defeated the Boltons.”

Why did he look so different? How could I possibly imagine what he would look like? I stared at him for a little longer before it clicked.

“Jon? Is it actually you?” I whispered, reaching out to touch his face.

He grabbed my hand, smiling.“It is. I’ve come back for you.”

For the first time in a while I laughed, crying with happiness as I threw my arms around him. He spun us around, placing kisses on my neck before setting me down and kissing my lips.

As we pulled apart, I whispered out.“Don’t you ever leave me again.”

anonymous asked:

How do you deal so well with criticism and trolls? I want to start posting my writing publicly but I'm so scared of assholes and you never seem to lose your cool dealing with them.

Haters gonna hate, they say, but I do think that phrase makes light of just how shitty some people can be. The truth of the matter is there will always be people out there who compensate for their own powerlessness in life by getting online and anonymously tearing us down. They need not invest anything in this, not even their own good name, and there is nothing you can do or say to stop them. The minute you put yourself out there, they will come sniffing, and they will pick and nibble at your most vulnerable squishy bits.

Not constructively. Not in an honest effort to point out a shortcoming and help you overcome it. No. They’re doing it to, by contrast, inflate their self-worth. They think they found the mistake. They think they have superior discernment. They think they alone have the taste, or bravery, or ability to point out every way you have Done Wrong in their eyes. It’s a Zero Sum Game to them. They want to take some perceived quality from you and plaster it onto themselves.

When you realise this, how can you even be upset with them? I feel bad for them. And I almost never engage them. I would advise you to be the same way.

It’s my opinion that anyone who has the courage to put themselves out into the world deserves a baseline of respect. I do not generally talk shit about any artist or writer because I respect their time and effort. I can’t get into the circle-jerky hatred of some books or comics that you’ll often come across (ain’t naming titles) because I know that person put the best of themselves into their work and sacrificed a portion of their finite time on this planet to make their fantasy a reality - for no reason other than to entertain the like-minded.

People who are safely pecking at a keyboard behind a monitor don’t seem to have any appreciation for Creation and the sacrifices it requires. They’re focused on Destruction. History won’t remember them.

What history WILL remember are the creators like you who braved the assholes and immortalised themselves in the public sphere, giving us something to laugh at or think about or appreciate as we struggle through our day.

Laugh privately at the trolls. I do. They can’t tolerate how hard you work and how brave you are. They so desperately want to tear you down. But if you don’t let them get to you, they can’t. And the more they try even as they’re ignored, the more pathetic they look.

Do the thing, Anon! Only you can.