i really cannot express my thanks to all of you enough

Today is special.

Why?

Because today is the 4th anniversary of a group of boys who started from the bottom and climb, and are still climbing as high as they can.

These boys are Bangtan Boys also known as BTS.

Originally posted by sannal2054

For me BTS is one of the most special groups to exist.

Because not many groups are willing to tell their stories.

BTS does not have to rely on buying song after song after song. After all, they have the freedom to produce, experiment, write and create the art they want to create. It is amazing to see a group of people who write in an industry where many companies opt out of letting their idols write and create and instead choose to mostly buy songs, giving their artists minimal freedom in many cases. BTS, however, does have that freedom and uses it to their full advantage.

Originally posted by meandmyopinionss

Look at the solo songs or any of their solo work as an example.

Rap monster tackles society, Illness, pressures and so much more in his songs. He shows worry for the new generations and generations to come faced with injustice, anxiety and depression. He worries about his members and shows understanding and compassion. In fact, he uses lyrics as an expression of his inner struggle and philosophical thoughts and in turn opens conversations that are very much needed in society. He works hard to communicate with all the fans and in general, he works hard to communicate with people. He does not just show interest in his fans but in society as a whole.

Originally posted by momo-foam

Suga too wanted his voice to be heard. He said it himself, he was not content with just rapping. He wanted people to listen to what he has to say too. And definitely, Yoongi has a lot to say. At first, he seemed like such a closed person, but his mixtape gave everyone such an amazing insight into his mind. From the depression, to self hate, to allusions to suicide and social anxiety he bears his soul to all, in turn trying to help others realise that they are not the only ones going through a hard time. And if he continues to recover(because I believe that even if one gets better, some demons still remain and always have to be fought)  then hopefully so can we. And also, how can one not love a man who reveals a song called ‘first love’ only to reveal that his first love was his piano, when that is such a beautiful and sincere confession.

Originally posted by junghosyub

J-Hope’s mixtape is one I definitely cannot wait to hear. Because I feel like he is a member who also has a lot he wants to say without any constraints. Hoseok ’s song ‘mama’ just showed how amazing he is as a person. He had a solo song in the Wings album, like all the members and he chose t write a loving and sincere song thanking his mum for all that she has ever done for him. For how she loves and supports him in this difficult path. He seems to struggle with feeling like he is not good enough. As a member or son. I hope that’s not true. He also shows his emotion through his dance.

Originally posted by gdiminyoongi

Not these three members show us the most of what they are feeling through writing and producing. However, the other 4 are also working hard on developing as writers, amazing sure to develop and also express themselves.

Taehyung showed his inner turmoils and  guilt over an unknown action or feeling in stigma as he apologise see to his brother and sister and even worked with Namjoon to produce a new song, showing a different side of him, as well as a different singing technique deciding to tell different stories with his voice and songs. Taehyung is also proving himself to be a very good actor, telling more than than just his story.

Originally posted by pjkook

Jungkook, in my opinion, seems to struggle most with expressing himself. And I believe that that is normal. After all from a young age he has been a trainee with means that most things kids get to experience such as relationships, getting in trouble, love, sex and more this teen was not allowed to have. He was too busy being 'manufactured p’, as some may say, to be the perfect idol. However, since he grew up in the public eye for quite a long time we see how his story is his progress as he tries to gain confidence and express himself asking Namjoon for help with his songs 'Begin’ as well as by releasing amazing covers.

Originally posted by jeonity

Jimin, like Hoseok shows his emotions through dance but also has shown us how he can communicate through his vocal colour and his emotional expression. He worked on 'LIE’ showed confusion, loss and heartbreak as he is 'caught in a lie’ and while we do not know the reason for these emotions we can appreciate them better and can relate them to us and our situations.

Originally posted by jikookfantasy

Lastly, Jin is the member, who I believed was the least able to express himself, not because he doesn’t want to but because he doesn’t have the opportunity to showcase his stories as much. However, his solo song 'Awake’ is a true gift. It tells the story of a boy, not a man but a boy, who comes to the heartbreaking belief that yes, he may never be able to reach the top like others but he will continue to work just as hard and give his all to be better and better and better. It shows his loyalty and passion and that is what I love about Jin. But I would really love to see Jin tell other, different stories through acting.

Originally posted by catchsuga

So as you see they all have something to say and they all try their best to say it.
and let’s not forget all the amazing choreographies

And let’s not forget just how close their bond is

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

Originally posted by pkjmnie

Originally posted by yoongiski

So thank you Kim Seokjin for always making us laugh, for being so kind and caring.

Thank you Min Yoongi for opening up to us and inspiring  us

Thank you Jung Hoseok for being a true sunshine, giving strength to all

Thank you Kim Namjoon for working so hard to create and for always choosing BTS and freedom of speech

Thank you Park Jimin for being so supportive, always being there for your me,beds, hugging them and making them feel supported and loved

Thank you Kim Taehyung for showing us your different sides and working so hard at writing.

Thank you Jeon Jungkook for showing us all your different talents and inspiring us to try new things.

Thank You BTS for being a part of out loves.

Thank you to all the staff for working so hard for our boys success, be it makeup lighting or anything else.

Thank you to all the managers, the CEO and anyone else helping them on their journey.

Thank you to the parents and family of the members for giving birth to such amazing, kind and talented people.

Originally posted by trashoferverything

Originally posted by lostinbangtan

As always, I hope BTS is healthy both physically and mentally and  that they know we are here for them and that we will always love and support them.

Originally posted by allforbts

BTS is already perfect as is and it is  we, ARMYs that have to keep replaying these boys because they do so much for us. They say and create so much for us. BTS is kind, thoughtful, they love their fans, show respect to all and are extremely humble, not taking what they have for granted but rather strive forward to improve.

Originally posted by jhopeloviu

So thank you BTS for being BTS

I hope you will remain together for very long.

I hope there will be no serious drama between you.

And I hope that we can stand together, BTS and ARMYs for many years to come.

If we can’t understand we will try to understand your problems. So please do not push yourselves and harm yourselves. We do not want that under any circumstances.

Originally posted by fullfangirling27

I’m so proud of being an ARMY.

Originally posted by btstaehyunged

So thank you and happy anniversary

Thank you for reading

Yuri on Ice interview translation - PASH! 2017/03 (p10-11)

The second part of the episode commentary by Mitsurou Kubo! I have now fixed it with all the italic & bold parts as in the magazine (in the magazine they are actually bold & bolder). If you have any questions please send me a private message and I’ll reply when I have some time.

You can find the first commentary about episodes 1-6 here.

Just a note: when she quotes lines from the episodes I’m not using any of the “official” English translations, I’m translating them as I would translate them myself, so they might not be like you are used to hear them, but I think you will understand which lines they are anyway.

The translation is under the cut because it’s long.

***If you wish to share this translation please do it by reblogging or posting a link to it***

***Re-translating into other languages is ok but please mention that this post is the source***

Keep reading

Rhysand, High Lord of Me Crying

Rhys:

  • Grew up facing racial prejudice (likely from both sides of his heritage) whilst also being taught to racially discriminate against part of his heritage
  • Adored his mother and had to watch her be trapped in a relationship with a man she hated for fear of her losing her wings.
  • Was repeatedly brutalized and whipped from the age of eight and onwards, taught that the only way to survive was to fight and win against others.
  • Had his parents brutally murdered by his best friend and his family (and still tries to stop his own father from returning the favor to said best friend)
  • Inherited a title and court known for its cruelty and malice, despised and feared by the rest of the kingdom, where his own court’s Capital and nobility would view him as weak if he tried to show kindness or mercy
  • Was repeatedly, systematically, and mercilessly raped for fifty years after being robbed of all of his powers
  • Watches the love of his life die before his eyes, and then later has to watch her endure emotional and physical abuse at the hands of Tamlin

Also Rhys:

  • Spends his entire life fighting to destroy racism and unite all species in equality, from lesser fae to humans to high fae. 
  • Tries his damned hardest to be a feminist, despite growing up in a culture where you KNOW feminist critique and writing either wouldn’t exist or would definitely be censored/unpublished and probably considered treason given this whole ‘High Lords Only’ club. Ensured women were a part of his group of advisers to try and learn from own voices on how to be better than society teaches him to be, and made sure that should he ever fall, power should fall to them, not other men.
  • Uses violence as a means to justify the ends (see Feyre’s arm breaking, resolving conflict through battle and war, fighting Cassian to release his post-mating aggression) because he was raised to believe violence was an everyday part of life and a key element of learning and self-imrpovement. Is still able to recognise that these acts were not ideal and apologizes for them (to Feyre) as he did to Cassian and Azriel, who, through he way in which Illyrian conditioning works, he was first set up to antagonize and fight. 
  • Despite his best friend getting his family killed, abusing his mate, aiding in the mass genocide of racial prejudice, he still tries to settle the discord with him without violence and tries to be the better person, be it for morality’s sake or for the sake of others and the kingdom.
  • Finds his own way to exploit the reputation he inherits, preforming as an evil dictator whilst all of his actions are used to help people and try and protect those the system he was born into oppresses and abuses, even if he cannot change it all at once and still struggles at times to identify what is right and what is wrong, and to learn what helps, what doesn’t, and what problems exist with his current attempts to be better. Eventually gives up his ‘evil’ persona when his mate shows him that it is okay and that together they will be strong enough to deal with the backlash and STILL protect the people they care for and have a duty of care to.
  • Has dedicated his own library to victims of rape and abuse, is infinitely careful around his mate who suffered similar issues, and despite never really getting to talk about or reconcile with the hell of sexual abuse, manipulation, and psychological torture he was put through, he still makes himself keep his shit together and stay sane and as compassionate as possible for what he believes in, to the point where the only time his pain is allowed to be expressed is when he’s asleep at night and literally cannot control the nightmares that haunt him
  • Protects his mate and those he loves to the point of being destructively self-sacrificing because he has lost them time and time and time again, but still tries to acknowledge this and let them have their choice, do what they feel they need to do, and not freak out at them when they act on their own accord and endanger themselves because he knows they have freewill and that is their right even when it scares him the fuck to death and probably induces so many flashbacks of all the times he has lost everyone he’s ever loved.

Also Also Rhys:

  • Doesn’t claim to be perfect or the epitome of feminism or ideal morality
  • doesn’t use his reasons to excuse his behavior, but to explain his reasoning as to why he acted as he did
  • Makes mistakes that he still needs to acknowledge, especially regarding Morrigan, but hey ACOWAR is not the end and we know SJM can progress characters a fucking ton over the course of one book (see ACOMAF)
  • Unlike Amarantha, Jurian, Tamlin, and countless others, he never once says he’s ‘the way he is’ because of his past experience. He never uses his own suffering to justify inflicting it upon others. Always, his reasoning comes down to what he thinks will be the best for others and what he thinks will win them safety and protection and happiness in the end, even when those choices are fucking difficult and there is no obvious answer.

Me:

  • He just, he tries so hard and he is so fucking strong in the face of all he’s endured and he cares so much and he just *sobbing* I don’t care if he’s hot or pretty or has the biggest wingspan, he just is such an inspiration for those of us who make mistakes and were raised with views that are harmful to others or perpetrate systems of oppression. HE TRIES AND I RESPECT HIM FOR THAT SO MUCH.

(p.s thanks @my-name-is-fireheart for reminding me why Rhys deserves the world)

Hers

And there he stands in all his glory, laughing at something Chris Nolan said to him, a glass of whisky in his hand and his arm around her waist. And all I could do was stand here, from afar, watching them.

“He’ll notice if you keep staring, darling.” Anne handed me a glass of champagne.

“I-I-I was not staring. Just looking how wonderful they are together.” I could feel my face turn red by the second.

“Oh, darling, don’t try to fool yourself, I know you have feelings for him.” She smiled lightly at me. “Actually, I always thought you’re going to be together.”

My smile faltered and I looked at the floor. Silly Y/N, of course Anne knew. Apparently, everybody did! The boys, Gemma, Lou and now Anne. Clearly, I am not very good in hiding my feelings for my best friend. The guy who knows me better than anyone and yet can’t realize how much I adore him.

Harry and I have been friends since we were kids, really. Eventually we went separate ways: He went out to become the biggest celebrity out there and I went to college. Even though we lived in different worlds, we never stopped talking. We’re still best friends even after all this time.

I love him.

But it wasn’t always like this. When we’re younger, our parents used to tell us we would eventually get married. We’re too perfect for each other, that’s something we always knew, even though we didn’t have this types of feeling for each other.

It was in my senior year of college that this said feelings started to show. I spent a few weeks with him and the boys while they’re on tour and suddenly I started to fall for my best friend. If you have seen any movie out there, you would think that the feeling was mutual and we’re happily ever after. Not how things turned out, I’m afraid to tell you. I spent 6 weeks trying to find a way to tell him my feelings, even asked for the boys’ help, but when I was close to figure a way out, he met her. And gosh, how much he adored her. Since the beginning!

You know that stupid line that said when you love someone, you gotta let them go and find their happiness? His happiness was she and I couldn’t stand in the way of that. Even though I knew I loved him more than she could ever love him, it was time for me to set him free.

So I came back. Came to the UK, finished college and found a job I actually like. My life is all put together, as Harry likes to remind me. He’s right, my life is put together, except for my love life. I tried so hard to get over him, to not have feelings for him. I dated, I tried everything I could, but he was always there, in the back of my mind, even when I met my ex-boyfriend, Daniel. We broke up a few months later because he knew I had feelings for my best friend. Poor Dan, such a nice guy and I couldn’t love him.

Harry came back home. And moved in with her, much to my dismay. They’re together for 3 years now and they don’t seem to be breaking up anytime soon. I’m not gonna lie, I’ve thought about telling him, just to get it out of my chest, but I can’t. I cannot ruin this for him. I would rather suffer in silence than ruin his happiness and our friendship.

“Have you thought about telling him?” She asked me while we watched the couple from afar.

“I did.” I whispered. “I just can’t. He’s happy, Anne. He deserves to be happy.”

“My son is a fool, darling. He doesn’t know, but he does have feelings for you. A mother always know and I’m telling you he does. But I understand your side, I just don’t wanna see you both losing time with other people when you could be together!”

I breathed a laugh. Anne was always our biggest supporter, so it’s not a shock to me she would rather me with her son than his actual girlfriend. The poor girl is not a bad girl; she’s just not right for him.

She doesn’t get it how he can be such a morning person, always waking up at a 100%, telling everyone ‘good morning’ in his raspy voice. She thinks its annoying, but the truth is if he doesn’t do this, we’ll go back to sleep and miss his whole day. She doesn’t get his obsession for good health, but if she just asked him about it, she would understand he actually believes that those junk foods can kill you slowly, and he can’t lose anyone in his life, so we all have to eat health food. At least around him. She doesn’t understand how he can feel so down after reading mean comments on the internet, because for her how could The Harry Styles feel anything less than perfect?! He thinks he’s not worth it, even though he truly does deserve everything good that ever happened to him. However, he has insecurities, because by the end of the day, he is just Harry. And all he really wants is cuddles and a few reassurance words that those people are just mean people and are not telling the truth.

She doesn’t know him and a part of me thinks she just doesn’t want to. Yes, she knows what he likes for breakfast, what calms him when his in a bad mood, but she doesn’t know the little things I do.

It’s sad, if you think about it. He’s been with her for 3 years and she doesn’t get him. Maybe that’s why when he needs someone, he runs to me. He runs to my house at 3 A.M just so he could talk about his bad day. She never saw him cry, because he only cries when we’re alone and he can truly show his feelings. I’m the first person he calls when something good or bad happens. I’m his emergence contact in the hospital, I’m his safe place to go when he needs to just take a break. I’m the one who could leave her whole life on hold, just to take care of him when needed.

It’s sad because even thought I am his person, I’m not his and he’s not mine. She has him and I can’t truly express how much I wish that could be me.

“He looks nervous.” I pointed out to Anne.

“I was about to ask you this… Do you know why? He’s been like this for a few weeks now.” She looked deep in thought, trying to find a reason for her son odd behavior.

“I think…” I was interrupted by Louis, who looked out of breath.

“You need to stop him, he will make a terrible mistake, please Y/N, stop him!”

“Louis, what’s going on? What are you talking about? Breathe, Lou.”

“You don’t get it, he’ll…”

“Can I have everyone’s attention, please?” Harry called out from the center of the room. The party quickly died down, waiting for his speech. “I would like to thank you all for coming to my Dunkirk party. It’s so nice to enjoy the movie’s success with all of you, so thank you!”

Everyone around the room clapped and Louis was fussing by side. He looks nervous and I couldn’t understand why.

“As you know this is a special night for me and I wanted to be even more special. Lexa, can you come here, darling?” He asked his girlfriend to join him and I could already feel the tension growing around me. Anne, Louis, Niall, Liam, Lou and Gemma surrounded me and we all were just waiting for something to happen. Anything.

“Lexa, we’ve been together for 3 years next week and I feel so blessed to have you by side. I was smitten with you since the moment I saw you, you can ask Y/N for confirmation.” Everybody laughed a little and I could feel a knot in my through already. “So, in this special date for me and surrounded by friends and family, I would like to ask you…” he got down on one knee. “Will you marry me?”

And just like that my world stopped. I couldn’t hear anything, but I could see her nod and everyone clap for them. I think the boys were talking to me, but I could barely understand what was happening.

He proposed to her.

He is hers.

She is his.

And just like that I realized that all these years loving him, taking care of him, weren’t enough to make him fall for me. I was a silly girl who believed in the fairy tale that everyone thought we would live. I loved him with everything in me, I was always his but he was never mine.

And just like that I ran out of the party, leaving everyone – including the love of my life – behind.

I was always his.

He was never mine.

He was always hers.

*** 

Part 2

It’s been a while, I know, but I hope you’ve liked this. Please, leave me your thoughts about this oneshot, talk to me pleeease. Sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language!

All the love, B. 

MASTERLIST

anonymous asked:

IDK if you saw the post about how, before the Death Star plans were captured, the asset Bail was sending was *Leia herself* to Obi-Wan. But I'd like an AU based on that. No Death Star Plans, only a 19-year-old-girl strong in the Force, trying to beat the Empire.

She didn’t—

Luke cocked his head, watching the girl in white move through the marketplace. He couldn’t figure out what it was about her, why one minute he had been engrossed in Waing’s new shipment of power converters and the next he was staring at her, totally unable to tear his eyes away. He wasn’t entirely sure how he’d gone from one to the other, except he had, and now he was watching her. It was important he watch her, he knew it was important, though he couldn’t figure out how he knew that, or why.

It wasn’t that she stood out—sure, no one wore robes of that clean white, not unless they had a lot of slaves or droids to do the laundry for them, and yeah, she was the sort of pale you generally only saw in traders, who spent more time in artificial grav than sunslight. But she could be a water merchant’s daughter slumming it in Toshe, or an off-worlder, taking in the sights. (Not that they had many sights to see in Toshe, Luke thought with a snort.) And nobody else seemed to notice her; she stopped at Kinqua’s stall and dipped her fingers into the bowl Kinqua left out for tasting, and lifted it to her lips, licked the droplets away.

Luke had seen Kinqua casually lop off a child’s hand for that.

Skywalker,” Waing said, startling Luke out of his thoughts. “You made a decision? Or are you just going to keep feeling up my tech until it agrees to go home with you?”

“Cool your drives, Waing,” Luke said mildly, but he was still staring at the girl in white. She had two droids trundling after her, he realized belatedly—an astromech and a protocol droid, though he couldn’t make out what they were saying at this distance. Their lights were flashing, though, and he wished he could read visual binary.

“Oh, I see,” Waing said after a minute, and Luke could hear them smirking. “My tech isn’t all you’re hoping to take back to the Whitesun-Lars homestead.”

Luke felt his face go hot, and he forced himself to look back at Waing. They were smirking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said coolly, but he couldn’t focus on the power converters anymore. The girl in white, had she—

“Pardon me.”

This close it was abundantly obvious that she wasn’t from Tatooine—no one from this planet carried that air of interestingness with them, like they had a secret that might change the whole course of your life. She must be an off-worlder. “I’m looking for Obi-Wan Kenobi. Do you know where I might find him? I was told he lives near here—”

“Old Ben?” Luke cut in, before Waing could answer. “Do you mean Old Ben?”

The girl in white looked at him for a long moment, and Luke felt the back of his neck heating up. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “Is he near here?”

“Oh, sure,” Luke laughed, more out of relief than anything else. “Old Ben’s just a few klicks from here, he lives near the western gorge—I could take you, if you want,” Luke said quickly, because she looked increasingly put-out, and he felt something in his chest twinge in answer to it.

But she shook her head. “Thank you for the offer, but this is a personal matter.”

“It’ll cost you serious credits if you charter a speeder,” Luke said. “I’m headed that way anyway, let me take you. And your droids. Really,” he said, because she still looked uncertain. “It’s no trouble.”

She looked at him for a long moment, and her dark eyes were very serious. (He liked her eyes, for no particular reason he could figure out.) “My name is Leia,” she finally said, sticking her hand out. 

“Luke,” Luke laughed, taking it and shaking it. It was cool and smooth, and if he’d needed any confirmation she was from off-world, that was it. “Skywalker. My uncle owns a moisture farm in the eastern hemisphere.”

“I’m—not from around here,” she said, and Luke almost laughed because—well, obviously.

“Consider yourself lucky,” Luke said, and something of her tiredness and tightness (why did he know she was tired, down to her bones?) eased. She smiled back, a small smile. Luke counted it as a victory.

“I am C-3PO,” the protocol droid cut in, sticking his head between them as though it would stop them from looking at one another. He was burnished gold, and in the high sunslight it hurt to look at him. “And this is my companion, R2-D2.”

The astromech whistled a greeting, and Luke laughed. “Pleasure to meet—all of you. My speeder’s docked by the Ithorian, if you want…?”

“Hey, Skywalker, aren’t you going to buy anything?” Waing interrupted, and Luke winced, barely managing to tear his eyes away from Leia, who was still smiling, very slightly.

“Sorry, uh—maybe next week?” Luke offered lamely, but he was already ushering Leia and her droids away, and he could hear her laugh, very softly. (His chest fell too full, hearing it.)

It felt strange, formal and right, to help her into the speeder. Her hand in his was a kind of symmetry, inexplicable, the way he knew how a speeder was supposed to fit together, how a full tank of moisture sounded when you rapped it with a knuckle. Organic and totally without reason, their hands fitting together. She still hadn’t told him her surname, if she had a surname. Where she was from. What she was doing here. What her droids were doing here.

Luke couldn’t help but trust her utterly. Otherwise, why did her hand feel like that, resting in his?

What do you need to see Old Ben for?” Luke shouted over the rush of air around the speeder.

I told you,” Leia shouted back. The white hood she wore had fallen back, and her hair was dark. Even carefully styled, those loops over her ears, strands came loose, whipping around her face. “It’s personal!”

They stopped at the farm first, just to refuel and drop off the handful of things Luke did buy—rations, holonews downloads, some sucrose-candies for Aunt Beru. But when they touched down, Owen went white beneath his sunsburn, staring at Leia like she was a creature from another galaxy. “Your Highness,” he breathed, and Luke had to correct him, just an off-worlder looking for Old Ben; don’t pay her any mind. Look, Uncle Owen, I brought you your Almanac—

Leia was silent; picking at a loose thread in her white, white robes.

(Afterwards, she was silent, her arms crossed over her waist. They sped across the desert, which was gathering dark by the armful. “Sorry,” Luke said, trying to keep himself from shivering, “I know it gets cold at night.”

“It’s all right,” Leia said. “On—my planet, it snowed. We had mountains, and we would build whole castles out if it, out of snow. It was beautiful.”

“I’d like to see snow,” Luke said, but he thought it was lost in the sound of the speeder, because she didn’t reply.)

By the time they reached Old Ben’s place, it was dark enough for a lamp to be burning, the light spilling beneath the door and out the window. Luke watched as Leia knocked on the daub doorframe, shivering.

Still, it was worth staying just to watch the flicker of Old Ben’s expression from surprise to shock when he greeted her. He called her by a name that was definitely not ‘leia’ and Luke watched her shoulders hitch. “No,” Leia said finally. “I am Leia Organa, Princess of Alderaan. I am the daughter of Queen Breha Organa and Viceroy Bail Organa, and I am—I am here to beg your aid for the rebellion.”

Luke wasn’t so surprised that he didn’t notice Ben’s eyes cut to him, and then away.

“Princess,” Ben said finally, with an awful heaviness. Luke had brought him ration packs and listened to his stories he had never sounded like that before, like it was something awful and deep beyond saying. “If they sent you to find me, they must be very desperate.”

“No,” she said quickly, and Luke knew she was lying. “No, but—we need Jedi. We cannot go forward, we cannot fight, if the Force is not with us.”

This time, Old Ben’s stare lingered on Leia, then on Luke. He seemed to be making up his mind about something, though Luke couldn’t say what. Old Ben had always struck him as a sort of harmless religious sort; in another world he might have been a Jedi like in the stories, but instead he was a desert madman, talking to the air and clutching at a bit of carbon tubing like it was a lightsaber.

There was nothing harmless about the way he was looking at them now.

“I’ve been happy here,” Old Ben muttered, quietly, like an apology.

“Fine,” Leia said, almost a snarl. Luke could only see her in silhouette, against the light from Old Ben’s hut. He thought suddenly of a predator, something that could leap on the unsuspecting. “But no one ever promised us happiness.”

Luke could see Old Ben’s throat work. “Come in,” he said at last. His gaze darted to Luke, and Luke caught his breath. “What I have to say is—for both of you, now.”

Luke shut off the speeder.

(He had followed Leia into Old Ben’s hut, and didn’t come out the same man. No, not the same man at all.)

Some hilarious prompts #2

(bcs why not) Finally my collection of text posts will get in use omgg :D:D:DD:

(is possible to be customized)
(Send me requests with 1/1+ prompt/s. I write about a lot of fandoms and also a lot of different things : one shots/scenarios/imagines/headcanons/chats/conversations/aesthetics/alomst anything) REQUESTS ARE OPEN! (for promts from this list and from the first one)

82. Do you ever talk to a person and your heart starts doing some dubstep shit.

83. If you can’t deal with my sarcasm, I can’t deal with being your friend. 

84. I’m nothing but a constant state of internal screaming at this point.

85. I went to the beach once, 500 years later I still have fucking sand in my shoes.

86. How long after arriving at someone’s house is it appropriate to ask for the WiFi password?

87. Getting real tired of my own bullshit.

88. Thanks elevators, for bringing me up when I was down.

89.  Here’s a little song I like to call “I cherish our friendship so I won’t tell you I would totally have sex with you if you asked.”

90. A: Do you ever get the urge to get up in the middle of the night while everyone else  is fast asleep and just walk places and be completely and entirely dedicated to your thoughts?
      B: Yea, but the problem is I don’t want to get murdered. You feel me. 

91. Let me sleep in your stupid t-shirts and hold your dumb hand, you piece of shit.

92. need a gang to follow me around all day and clap when I make jokes.

93.  You know that feeling when you’re not your favourite person’s favourite person, and it kind of feels like you’re constantly swallowing sand.

94. “Stop being so dramatic” they say, “I don’t know what you mean” I say as I descent from the ceiling, surrounded by mist.

95. Just because you’re trash doesn’t mean you can’t do great things. It’s called garbage can, not garbage cannot.

96. Studies show that I literally did not ask.

97. A: It doesn’t matter what you look like on the outside…
      B: Whew!!! good
      A:…It’s who you are on the inside!
      B: Ah, fuck!

98.  A (puts their hand over their crush’s): Ha ha how’d that get there?

99. I express my emotions in long groans at different octaves.

100. I mean you piss me off, but I’d do anything for you.

101. Honestly, sometimes you just gotta let me be dramatic. Because I will get over it. But let me be dramatic first!

102. Do you ever feel like a 4 times divorced 45 year old woman that smokes cigarettes in her fur coats on a grand piano? Cause I do and it’s sad.

103. Single, not sure how to mingle.

104. I love it when people rant to me, like yes, I am entrusted with your hate.

105. My idea of flirting is making fun of each other, until one of us fucks up and says something nice.

106. A: I hate playing “never have I ever” because I’m a fucking slut.
        B: I hate playing “never have I ever” because I’m a fucking virgin.

107. Do you live on Elm Street, because you’re a nightmare.

108. Remember your parents told you to take out the trash? I’m the trash. They were telling you to take me out. Date me.

109. You know, liking someone and pretending you don’t is a lot of hard work.

110. How do you politely tell someone that you want them naked and on top of you?

111.  A (whispering): I really like you and want to kiss you a lot.
        B: What?
        A: I said you suck.

112. Have you ever accidentally befriended someone who is very very irritating?

113.  If you step on a person’s foot they open their mouth, just like a trash can.

114. How do I get over someone I never even dated?

115. Things I want - snuggles. Things get - struggles.

116. If you see me and I’m not wearing black, you saw wrong, that’s not me.

117. Why do we need to watch the sky to enjoy the stars, when the ulitimate star is me.

118. I hate when It’s so hot outside and a bitch tells you to take your jacket off, like bitch no, this is my outfit.

119. If karma doesn’t come around and hit you in the face, I will.

120. I don’t think I’ve ever shut up in my entire life.

121. A: You don’t talk much.
        B: I’m observing your weaknesses since you’re so freely verbalizing everything about yourself.

122.  A: My kink is when people actually care about my feelings and what I have to say
         B: Too unrealistic, settle for bondage like the rest of us.

123. A: Your future self is watching you right now through your memories.
        B: Not if I get drunk enough.

124. A: Is there a word between angry and sad?
        B: Malcontented, disgruntled, miserable, desolated.
        A: Smad.
        B: Oh my gOD.

125. Does the pale glow of my computer make me look hot?

126. Rest in peace to all the hours of sleep I’ve lost to overthinking.

127. You know it’s really rude to talk while I’m interrupting.

128. Is “no” an emotion, because I feel it?

129.  I always look sleep deprived is that hot?

130. If you listen carefully you can hear me whisper “shut the fuck up” at least once every five minutes.

131. I’m kind of hurt, kind of offended, kind of not planning on saying anything about it.

132.  I’m tired 8 days a week.

133. I don’t trust people who look good with messy hair.

134.  I may be a shitty friend, but I’m your shitty friend.

135. Seven billion people on this planet and I have 2 friends. What is wrong with people, like put some effort in it, I’m not just gonna come and do the job for you.

136.  I’m sorry, is my swag distracting you?

137. I aspire to get to that level of hot when my hair looks like shit and I smell like black coffee and yesterday’s eyeliner is smudged under my eyes, but I still look fine as hell.

138. A: No, listen! What if one day you just turned into an almond and you couldn’t do anything about it because you were just a fucking almond?!
       B: You need to get laid, you weirdo.

139. A: You wear that a lot.
        B: That’s because I’m the main character of the story here, peasant.

140.  I don’t “dress to impress”, I dress to depress. I want to look so good that people hate themselves.

141. Behind every great man is me, checking out that ass.

142. The future is now, old man.

143. Seriously, all you do is bitch.

144. Are you trying to seduce me? Because so far you’re doing a great job.

145. Forgive and forget? More like resent and remember.

146. I’m that kind of person who between two choices always picks the wrong one.

147. I know what you’re going through, I read “The Perks of Being a Wallflower”.

148. Excuse me, I hate to go and vomit.

149. A: One day I hope I am the girl that walks into a room and all eyes are on her.
        B: The trick is to get a really big hat and scream.

150.  So tired of being human, I want to be a flower.

151. Screenshots don’t scare me, I know what the fuck I said!

152. I’m sorry for what I said, I was hungry.

153. A: Don’t buy a girl flowers. Flowers die. Buy her a dragon.
        B: Because dragons don’t die?
        A: Because it’s hard to say “no” to something that can murder you instantaneously.

154. I want to be rebellious, but I don’t want to get in trouble.

155. A to B: Breaking news: being an asshole all the time doesn’t make you complicated and mysterious, it just makes you an asshole

156. You know it’s really rude to talk while I’m interrupting.

157. One of these days I’m going to roll my eyes too hard and I’m gonna go blind.

158. I’m not a hint taker, you need to speak up.

159. Why allow yourself to be full of hate, when you can be full of pasta instead?

160. I’m an angry person and I want to let it all out and be an asshole, but I’m also a nice person and I don’t want to actually hurt anyone’s feelings, do you feel me?

Pride and Prejudice, and Consent

Time to cleanse the palate with a bit of positive relationship analysis!

One of the tropes that plagues, and has plagued, romance fiction ever since the invention of the novel is the idea of female consent not being necessary as long as the male is desirable and/or really wants her. Often, the heroine will succumb either to her own desires or his, whether she is entirely willing to do so or not, and that is framed as being analogous with passion—even love.

Well, two hundred years before Fifty Shades of Grey played fast and loose with consent issues, I present to you the antithesis of this trope in Mr. Darcy of Pemberley.

Elizabeth Bennet, the heroine of Pride and Prejudice, receives two proposals of marriage that are eerily similar, despite the outward differences of her two suitors. Mr. Collins and Mr. Darcy both spring unexpected and unwelcome proposals of marriage on her, calling to light her family’s lack of financial security and connection, seeing themselves as condescending to offer for her, and being completely perplexed by her refusal to accept them.

Elizabeth to Collins: You could not make me happy, and I am convinced I am the last woman in the world who would make you so.

Elizabeth to Darcy: I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry.“

Elizabeth’s words leave no ambiguity for either gentleman: she soundly rejects them both in a similar fashion. From this, readers may infer that since Darcy and Elizabeth end up together, it is Darcy who is persistent in his romantic intentions after Elizabeth has said “no.” But in fact, it is Collins who refuses to take no for an answer, and Darcy who never oversteps his bounds.

The first thing Collins says after he hears her rejection is that she cannot be serious in her refusal. 

 "I am not now to learn,” replied Mr. Collins, with a formal wave of the hand, “that it is usual with young ladies to reject the addresses of the man whom they secretly mean to accept, when he first applies for their favour; and that sometimes the refusal is repeated a second or even a third time. I am therefore by no means discouraged by what you have just said, and shall hope to lead you to the altar ere long.”

So elevated is his own sense of self-worth that she has to explain to him that she did, in fact, mean what she said:

  “Upon my word, sir,” cried Elizabeth, “your hope is rather an extraordinary one after my declaration. I do assure you that I am not one of those young ladies (if such young ladies there are) who are so daring as to risk their happiness on the chance of being asked a second time. I am perfectly serious in my refusal.”

What is the result? Collins still doesn’t take no for an answer, again:

  “Were it certain that Lady Catherine would think so,” said Mr. Collins very gravely – “but I cannot imagine that her ladyship would at all disapprove of you. And you may be certain that when I have the honour of seeing her again, I shall speak in the highest terms of your modesty, economy, and other amiable qualifications.”

  “Indeed, Mr. Collins, all praise of me will be unnecessary. You must give me leave to judge for myself, and pay me the compliment of believing what I say.”

And again:

  "When I do myself the honour of speaking to you next on this subject, I shall hope to receive a more favourable answer than you have now given me; though I am far from accusing you of cruelty at present, because I know it to be the established custom of your sex to reject a man on the first application, and perhaps you have even now said as much to encourage my suit as would be consistent with the true delicacy of the female character.”

  “Really, Mr. Collins,” cried Elizabeth with some warmth, “you puzzle me exceedingly. If what I have hitherto said can appear to you in the form of encouragement, I know not how to express my refusal in such a way as may convince you of its being one.”

And again:

   "You must give me leave to flatter myself, my dear cousin, that your refusal of my addresses is merely words of course. My reasons for believing it are briefly these: – It does not appear to me that my hand is unworthy your acceptance, or that the establishment I can offer would be any other than highly desirable. My situation in life, my connections with the family of De Bourgh, and my relationship to your own, are circumstances highly in my favour; and you should take it into farther consideration that, in spite of your manifold attractions, it is by no means certain that another offer of marriage may ever be made you. Your portion is unhappily so small, that it will in all likelihood undo the effects of your loveliness and amiable qualifications. As I must therefore conclude that you are not serious in your rejection of me, I shall chuse to attribute it to your wish of increasing my love by suspense, according to the usual practice of elegant females.“

   ”I do assure you, sir, that I have no pretension whatever to that kind of elegance which consists in tormenting a respectable man. I would rather be paid the compliment of being believed sincere. I thank you again and again for the honour you have done me in your proposals, but to accept them is absolutely impossible. My feelings in every respect forbid it. Can I speak plainer? Do not consider me now as an elegant female, intending to plague you, but as a rational creature, speaking the truth from her heart.“

And again:   

"You are uniformly charming!” cried he, with an air of awkward gallantry; “and I am persuaded that, when sanctioned by the express authority of both your excellent parents, my proposals will not fail of being acceptable.”

In fact, Collins only stops pursuing Elizabeth when her father puts his foot down and backs her refusal. Pride and Prejudice is a comedy, and so the tone is light on the surface, but beneath the satire is a very real, earnest desire to communicate how often women’s words—even their consent—are dismissed as fickle or inconsequential. Seeing our heroine not fleeing dramatically from a villain, but pursued by an entitled man who doesn’t take her words seriously, we feel Elizabeth’s sense of outrage and how belittling it is for Collins to act this way.

By contrast, though we might imagine a love interest like Darcy to be overcome with passion and try to make her his own by any means, Darcy is remarkably restrained and respectful without ever losing his ardent love for the woman he wants to marry. The first divergence of his response from Collins’ occurs right after he has been rejected:

   "And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little endeavour at civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of small importance.“

The wording here is important. He doesn’t demand that she explain why she rejected him, but rather why she was so impolite about doing so (since he has no knowledge of her dislike of him). He continues to be honest about his objections to her family’s behavior and place in the world, and to be angry at her for defending the duplicitous Wickham, but he never tries to convince her that she was wrong in rejecting him, even though he still views her as a social inferior.

After their heated conversation, Darcy leaves with an apology that he has occupied her for so long:

   "You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.”

This is a far cry from Collins following Elizabeth around after the proposal and trying to go over her head to her parents for support.

But wait—doesn’t the love interest write Elizabeth a letter, convincing her to give him another chance?

No. Both Darcy’s letter and its method of delivery are respectful of Elizabeth’s boundaries and her refusal of him.

It should be noted that an unmarried gentlewoman receiving letters from a man she was not engaged to resulted in scandal if it were ever exposed. If Darcy had wanted to compel Elizabeth to marry him, he would only have had to deliver the letter publicly, or through the post. Instead, he delivers the letter in person, when they are alone in a park and there is no chance of discovery. It is still a bit of a risk, though, and so he asks (not demands) that she read it:

“Will you do me the honour of reading that letter?“

Right from the beginning, Darcy reassures Elizabeth that he is not trying to impose on her or get her to accept him after she has made her wishes clear:

 "Be not alarmed, madam, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentiments or renewal of those offers which were last night so disgusting to you. 

While it is more than apparent that her rejection stung and he is still in love with her, he never brings up the subject of the proposal again—the contents are a defense of the charges she had laid against his character, as well as a warning against Wickham for her own safety. He doesn’t ask for a second chance or demand she reconsider her words, even in light of this new information. Moreover, he trusts her with the knowledge of his sister’s near-elopement with Wickham (which could cause a scandal if discovered), thus risking as much by delivering the letter as Elizabeth does by accepting it. In every way, he trusts her judgment and keeps her wishes in mind.

When they meet again at Pemberley, Darcy is trying to reform his behavior. He is cordial to her tradesman uncle and aunt, and has divested himself of the haughtiness that prevented her from seeing his true worth initially. Darcy does not give himself permission to pursue Elizabeth as a result of this change in character; it is only after they have met and talked cordially that he asks her, not to speak with him alone, but to meet his sister. In fact, he resists making romantic overtures for the duration of the visit, which ends abruptly when Elizabeth discovers her sister’s elopement with Wickham. And even there, when she and Darcy are accidentally alone during her distress, he makes no move to use the occasion as an excuse to “comfort” her with his advances. His reaction is, in fact, quite the opposite:

 "I am afraid you have been long desiring my absence, nor have I anything to plead in excuse of my stay, but real, though unavailing, concern.”

Another opportunity arises for Darcy to compel Elizabeth to marry him, this time out of gratitude. Unable to see Elizabeth so wretched, he finds Lydia and Wickham in London and, at great expense, convinces them to marry. He saves not only her sister’s reputation but that of her entire family. Yet rather than use that as an example to Elizabeth of what a good person he is, he forbids her aunt and uncle from mentioning that it was he who saved the Bennets’ good name. Elizabeth doesn’t even know he was involved until Lydia thoughtlessly gives the game away (after she, too, was sworn to secrecy).  

How then, do Lizzy and Darcy get together? It is Elizabeth herself who gives Darcy a reason to believe her opinion of him has improved. During a verbal duel with Darcy’s formidable aunt, she comes out the winner and point-blank refuses to give Lady Catherine a promise not to pursue Mr. Darcy. Lady Catherine petulantly tries to cut the problem off at the source by relating everything to her nephew. It works about as well as you’d expect.

 But, unluckily for her ladyship, its effect had been exactly contrariwise.

   "It taught me to hope,“ said he, "as I had scarcely ever allowed myself to hope before. I knew enough of your disposition to be certain, that had you been absolutely, irrevocably decided against me, you would have acknowledged it to Lady Catherine, frankly and openly.”

What prompts Darcy to renew his offer of marriage is nothing more or less than evidence that Elizabeth had seen his change of heart and accepted it.

“You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once.My affections and wishes are unchanged; but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever.”

Above is Darcy’s second proposal. After hearing her first rejection, he takes her at her word, respectfully gives her information that might have led her to mistaken conclusions about him, leaves even before he is asked to, reforms his own behavior, never takes advantage of their being alone to make unwanted advances, assists her and her family without taking any credit, and once he has seen enough signs to think she might accept him, renews his offer once and only once. If she says no again, unlike Collins, he will not continue to pester her or seek her out. He will not try to convince her that her decision was wrong. It is a sad statement on society that this is a remarkable thing, no less in the real world than in fiction, and all too prevalent in heroes of romance even two hundred years later. There is no shortage of love interests who mistake passion for permission, conflict for consent, and adversity for flirtation—but there is also no excuse for this to continue, particularly now. If a novel published in 1813 can understand the letter and spirit of consent, I think we can do better in our own time.


EDIT: Continued here.

Zimbits, 1.6K, Jack has a panic attack and ducks into the first closet he finds. Unfortunately, he’s not the only one in there.


The room was suddenly too hot and stifling, and Jack found himself pulling distractedly at his collar. He gulped down his drink quickly, but even that had little effect on his nerves. He scanned the crowd and saw his parents across the room, but they were busy talking to someone else, leaving Jack to deal with the oncoming panic by himself.

Jack started to walk quickly towards the bathrooms which he had passed in the foyer on the way in. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the ladies he’d spoken to earlier, one of his mother’s friends, start to head in his direction, and the curling dread in Jack’s stomach turned to lead. He hastily ran into one of the building’s vast hallways and opened the first door he found.

Once inside, Jack closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the coolness of the door. He could hear the faint click of heels pass the closet he’d ducked into before they disappeared down the other end of the hallway.

After a few minutes though, someone cleared their throat, and Jack realized he wasn’t alone. He blinked unsteadily even though it was completely pitch black, except for the sliver of light that came from underneath the door.

“Uh, I’m afraid I found this hiding spot first,” a voice said hesitantly. The slight, Southern drawl of the vowels caught Jack off guard.

Keep reading

7 times they noticed. (1/7)

(bc I need to make up for the langst I posted last night so here’s so comfort and a little bit of hurt. This is just Shiro’s, the other ones will be up soon. The only warning is a depiction of a panic attack.)


1. Lance winced as Shiro cut into him with words like he was expertly wielding Keith’s bayard. He would’ve found it funny how dad-like he was being, except: a) probably would cause Shiro to bail him out more, and b) it wasn’t very funny at all.

“Don’t you see how childish you’re being! This isn’t just serious, this is a matter of life or death, and your antics cannot get in the way. At the end of the day, do you want to be responsible for someone’s death?” The question sent a wave of nausea through Lance, and he was almost pulled off his feet by a wave of static that clouded his mind as something inside his chest burst. He grabbed his chest in alarm. His breathing was quickening. His chest was on fire. Oh god. Oh god. He curled inwards. Trying to protect himself.

“…” He tried to speak but no words came out, just harsh breaths as he lent against the wall, staring upwards through tears at Shiro who was frozen in fear.

“…Lance? Oh. Um… fuck.” If Lance was in any state of mind, he would have never let Shiro go for swearing in front of him, but as it was, it made Lance’s breath speed up. Shiro approached him like he would a possible hostile alien, slowly and with his hands outstretched. “Okay, Lance, if you can, put your arms around me and follow my breaths. Is that okay?” His voice was low and non-threatening, and in response Lance nodded slowly. His hands shaking as Shiro sat next to him, putting his hand on Lance’s arm. Shiro started taking audible, slow breaths. Lance winced as this effort made his breathing uneven, alternating from barely controlled slow breaths to shaky shallow ones.

“Thanks.” He choked out. Shiro shook his head.

“Don’t talk, just focus on the breathing.” Lance had enough humour to roll his eyes at him, and melodramatically breathed in and breathed out, causing Shiro to laugh, before his smile melted into a concerned frown.  “I’m so sorry Lance.”

“Don’t be. You’re right, of course.” Lance looked down, not willing to meet Shiro’s eyes.

“Just because you were goofing off doesn’t mean I should have said that. It was way out of line. I just –” Shiro trailed off.

“I’m scared too.” Lance responded quietly. “I know. I know that this is a life-or-death thing, but I just can’t think about it. I’m not like you, or Keith, or Allura. I have to distract myself. If I think about for one second someone else dying on my account I just –” Lance’s breath started to quicken again, and Shiro stopped him, beginning the audible intakes and exhales of breath once more. Lance found his voice again. “You’re good at that. Unsurprisingly.”

“Well, thank Coran actually.” Shiro smiled as Lance scoffed. “No really, apparently they’re quite common for Alteans as well as humans. I still get them occasionally, but they were really bad when, you know…” Shiro trailed off before gathering his thoughts once more. “Listen. Are you alright?”

Lance laughed nervously.

“Yeah, of course buddy, don’t worry about it.” He patted Shiro’s arm, got up from the ground and started to walk away when he felt Shiro’s metal arm on his shoulder.

“Really. We all deal with trauma differently, and I’m worried. These coping mechanisms are all fine and good until they start hurting you and other people.” Shiro was staring down at him and Lance shrunk under his worry. Of course Shiro was worried about the others.

“I’m really sorry I’ve been a pain.” He laughed, rubbing the back of his head in a mockery of sheepishness. “I’ve been distracted but don’t worry, to quote our lord Efron, I’ll get my head in the game.” Shiro’s frown did not disappear. “Seriously, dude, don’t worry.” Lance smiled.

“Just, if you need to talk, please do. Whatever problems you have are important, not just for the team’s performance, but for your health as well. Okay? And if you can’t talk to me, talk to Hunk, or Pidge, or even Keith.” Shiro insisted, gesturing emphatically as Lance rolled his eyes. “Please.”

Lance’s face softened, his mask melting away.

“I’m just so scared. What if I never see my family again?” His already tear-filled eyes began brimming once more. “And I’m so scared that I’ll mess up everything, I mean, how the hell can I compare to you guys? Keith’s an amazing combatant, Coran and Allura are the best at strategies, you’re a great leader, Hunk’s an awesome engineer, and Pidge is just a genius!” Shiro stared at Lance as tears spilled down his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t notice.” He pulled his hands over his face. “God, and I’m supposed to be the leader.” Shiro straightened up, looking at Lance. “I can’t express how sorry I am. I forget, I suppose, that you’re children. But know we’re all terrified; and know that we couldn’t do it without you. Because your joking does help, Lance, it breaks the mood and reminds us why we’re fighting - for our humanity. You’re important.”

Lance stood in shock. He wiped the tears off his face.

“Gosh Shiro, you’re such an old man!” He started laughing.

Shiro crossed his arms and stared at Lance. His frown didn’t reach his eyes.

“Come on you youngin, we’ve got training to do.” He walked out of the room, shaking his head. Lance smiled. Maybe things were alright, even if he was just saying it to pacify him. Still. It counted.

perhaps.


Read the other parts:

(nb as of 6/4/17: Hunk is up (along with the Shiro and Pidge ones) others will follow! Edited to flow better, thanks to the anon who mentioned it.)

(nb as of 7/4/17: Coran is up!)

(17/4/17: Allura is posted!)

(this is platonic btw please do not tag as shance or anything similar.)

Queen in the North {Pt. 2}

Originally posted by ladysarah94

Requested: By myself, because I am Trash™. Also some other absolutely lovely people.

Pairings: Robb Stark x Reader

Previously: {Part 1}

Summary: Y/N was sent to live with The Stark family at a young age, and ever since then, she seemed to fit perfectly, maybe even more than she had ever noticed.

Warnings: I just watched the episode so fluff to the max

Word Count: 2,433

A/N: I am so pleased to see how many of you like the first part to this, and I sincerely hope that the second part is even better! Special shoutout to @secretschuylersister for looking over this/encouraging me to actually post it. If you have any requests, please feel free to send them to my ask box!

It was nice of Sansa to say that she was almost done poking and prodding and adjusting your dress, even if you all knew that it was a lie. Sansa had and affinity for dressing you up, claiming that if she tried it with Arya, she would lose a finger. You couldn’t say that the idea was entirely off base.

The dress was lovely. It looked a bit delicate in comparison to the usual style that ladies favored in Winterfell.  It was somehow different and you’re the same as the dresses that you favored on an everyday basis. Although you had lived in Winterfell for most of your life, your mother and father had lived much farther south.

So, you tended to favor lighter dresses, made of silk and lace in a wide array of colors. Jon liked to tease you that you were the brightest thing to ever live in Winterfell. What you didn’t know is how much Robb silently agreed with him. The dress was white, with layers of gray peeking through towards the bottom. It was lovely, although you had no idea how Sansa had managed such a lovely effect in the short amount of time since she had asked you about making a dress.

“I may have been working on it for a little while before I asked if it was okay,” she said, picking it up off of the bed and motioning for you to change into it. “But I knew that you were going to say yes anyways.”

You laughed, she was right. You had a hard time telling people no, especially when they were doing something so nice for you. After all, the Starks were your family. And if they were willing to put the time in to help you, then there was no way that you were going to refuse. It did make your schedule feel a bit cramped at times, in between dagger lessons with Arya and the boys, knitting with Sansa and tea with Lady Stark, who was forever insisting that you call her Catelyn, there were never enough hours in the day, something you often fought about with Robb.

“Well then, put it on!” Sansa laughed, tossing you the dress and pulling out her needle and thread, claiming that there were a few alterations that needed to be made. Sansa worked in silence, adding a few stitches here and there. And somehow, when she was done, the dress looked even more spectacular. She had managed to somehow make it fit you like a glove at the top, yet have the perfect amount of sway and flow in the skirts.

“Thank you, Sansa,” you said, admiring the skirts in her mirror. If you hadn’t been so caught up in how nice it was for Sansa to make you this lovely dress, you might have noticed the smug look on her face as she admired you admiring her dress. And you might have noticed that you were wearing in the Stark family’s colors. “But I really think that I should go see if your mother needs help preparing-”

“I was downstairs with her all morning. While you were fretting over nothing, I was making sure that you didn’t have an excuse to run away.” She laughed, guiding you over to the chair that was set up in front of her mirror. “Now, you have to stay and let me do something with this.” She sighed, motioning to the braid that you wore every day. Sansa took your braid in her hands, making quick work of fanning it out across your shoulders, running a brush gently through the ends or your hair.

“I cannot understand why you never take the time to style your hair unless I force you to. You know that anyone would do anything for you.” Sansa rain her hands through your hair, twisting it one way and then another, attempting to choose a style for that evening.

“I would rather spend my time with other engagements. And I’m sure that every single person in this castle has at least five things that they need to be doing at any given time. And shockingly, none of them include helping me with my hair.” You laughed, raising an eyebrow at her in the mirror.

“And does one of those things include pretending that you aren’t in love with my brother? Or is that simply a given, considering it is something that you do every waking minute of every day?”

You felt yourself tense, your shoulders locking back into place and your teeth grinding against each other. Sansa, on the other hand, continued brushing your hair into place, humming a soft tune to herself. You wished that you had an appropriate comeback, but you were left to sit there, mouth agape, while Sansa fussed with your hair for longer than should have been possible.

You’d hoped that you would have a bit of time to yourself before the feast that evening, but Sansa had insisted that a bit of rouge had never hurt anyone. By the time that she decided you were ready, the both of you were late.

“A queen never arrives at her own party on time.” Sansa laughed as you hurried down the hall. You hated to be late, and it seemed that the only time you were more than a few seconds late to anything was when Sansa insisted on helping you get ready.

“Then it’s really too bad that I am not a queen.” you reminded her, withholding a glare.

She snorted at you in a very un Sansa-like way, simply brushing past you and breezing easily into the banquet. You, on the other hand, were not nearly as confident. You took a moment to steady yourself, a moment to catch your breath, before stepping into the banquet hall.

The noise and liveliness of the hall erupted around you, pulling you in. You glanced around, taking in the musicians and the dancers that took up most of the space in the large banquet hall. And as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were elated to see Robb standing with Jon and Theon near the edge of the dance floor.

You gathered up your expansive skirts, making your way along the edge of the room to the boys.

“Well don’t you just look dashing in the Stark colors?” Jon teased you, gesturing for you to do a twirl.

You landed a punch on his arm, not hard enough to actually hurt him, but firm enough to tell him to shut his big mouth, paired with an expression that told him you were going to pretend to be cross with him for a while. “If you must know, your lovely sister made me this gown, and as usual I had no say about the colors. But, I’m sure that it is just coincidence.” You attempted to sound sincere, even though you knew what Sansa was most likely thinking when she was picking out the material.

You pretended to listen to the boys ramble on about one thing or another, but your eyes were scanning the room in search of Arya. You knew that she was not particularly fond of feasts, so you always made a point to seek her out and reassure her, even if it was only for a few minutes. After few moments of searching, you spotted her, slumped into a chair, looking like she would much rather be anywhere else but here.

You felt Robb’s hand rest on the small of your back, attempting to draw your attention away from the very important matter at hand. “Y/N, do you want to-”

“Maybe in a minute, Robb,” you said, already making your way over to Arya, not even bothering to look back towards the sound of Jon’s booming laughter.

“Arya!” you laughed, taking her hands in your own and pulling her out of the chair. “Won’t you come and dance with me?”

“You know that I have been skipping my lessons,” she mumbled, refusing to meet your eyes. Somehow, she was in a worse mood than usual.

“I never said that we were going to make our way through the most boring waltz in existence.” You were already halfway to the band, who looked almost as morose as Arya, which wasn’t surprising when you thought about the music that they were being forced to play. “If this is to be the mood for the entire evening, we are all going to die of boredom.”

You let go of Arya’s hands for a few moments to whisper your instructions to the band. They all seemed to perk up immediately, sitting up in their chairs, the light coming back into their eyes. The tune changed from the sullen one that you had grown accustomed to hearing, to one that was jubilant and full of life. Reclaiming Arya’s hands in your own, your spun her around, prancing around in ridiculous circles until a smile finally graced her lips, and then a small laugh bubbled through, and you knew that your work was done.

You gave her one last smile, twirling her in another circle before stumbling off of the dance floor. All of the spinning had made you a bit dizzy, and with all of the skirts that Sansa had swaddled you up in, you weren’t surprised that you had nearly tripped a few times before you had even made it away from the dancers.

Robb’s hand found the small of your back, guiding you away from the mass of bodies that had swarmed the dance floor. You would have been surprised, especially because you hadn’t thought that Robb was anywhere near you, but he had a habit of turning up when you needed someone.

“What was it that you wanted earlier?” You asked breathlessly, collapsing into the chair that he had guided you to.

“Do you remember when my mother was so angry at us for sneaking into these feasts that she made us attend all of those dreadful dancing lessons?” Robb asked, smiling at Arya dancing with Rickon among the masses.

“Of course I do,” you laughed, recalling the many afternoons you had spent with your slightly nasty dance master. “Your mother was so sure that we would never turn up to another ball again if we had to take those lessons, but you were at every single lesson.”

“Naturally, you were so excited, and there was no way that I was going to miss it when you tripped over your own two feet.”

“If I recall correctly, you were always responsible for catching me after I messed up a new step.” You lazily punched him in the shoulder, but the laughter died in your throat as Robb caught your fist and linked his hand with yours.

“And I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

It wasn’t the act of holding his hand in yours that caused your breathing to falter. You had been holding pinkies since you had met, so after that, what was a hand? It was the way that his eyes were staring into yours, unwavering. For the first time in a long time, you felt yourself blushing because of Robb Stark.

It wasn’t something that happened often, the two of you had grown up together, after all. Your mother had been best friends with Cat, and when they passed away, it was no question that you were going to stay with Ned and his family.

You had been quiet when you arrived at Winterfell for the first time. It had only been a day or two since your mother and father had moved on, taken from you suddenly by a terrible affliction. You were assured that your friends would all be waiting for you, but that wasn’t good enough. You wanted your parents.

And even though you constantly reminded Robb of that, he was there for you at every turn. Bringing you a flower he found near a spring, hoping to make you smile, or telling you a poorly thought out joke, just waiting for just a glimpse of the dimples he used to know so well. And as much as you wanted to give him a glimpse of your former self, you needed time. Somehow, even at such a young age, both of you understood. And you had remained solemn, until one afternoon, he heard a giggle echoing from her chambers.

Robb threw open the door to find you sifting through a drawer full of dried flowers, picking them up one by one and examining them. He marched into the room, demanding to know why you had been so sad before. You never had been able to give him an answer, simply handing him one of the flowers and telling him that you were sorry. You never had offered him an explanation for those first few weeks.

“Y/N?” Robb’s voice and both of his hands cupping yours somehow managing to effectively draw you back to reality. “Are you okay?” his voice was soft, almost as if he was afraid to scare you away. He should know better than that by now.

“I was thinking about when I first came to live with you, well everyone. And you worried yourself over making me feel welcome, and you were so confused when you found me with that drawer full of flowers.” You sounded dreamy, still thinking about the days when things felt easier.

“You never did tell me why you kept all of those flowers. Especially when they never made you smile in the first place.” He smiled down at your hands, where his thumb was stroking the back of your hand.

“Because I knew that they were going to make me happy eventually,” You met his eyes, hoping that he understood what you were trying to tell him. “And I was right, wasn’t I?” Robb looked like he was going to answer, but you were finished wasting time moping about when there was a party going on. “Let’s dance, Stark.”

And without another word, the two of you were out of your chairs and headed for the dance floor. The musicians had kept their promise, and the music was lively. You were pleased to see that Arya had dragged Sansa into a group of dancers, and it brought a smile to your face to see that everyone was happy, for the time being. It was rare to stumble upon a moment where someone wasn’t squabbling, and when you managed to find one, you most certainly weren’t going to take it for granted.

Read Part Three Here!

Sincerely, me.

For more than 10 years, I’ve been in this journey. And the more time I spend by her side, I feel the luckiest person. Since I was so young, discovering Taylor’s music was magical, it was an escape and a way to express myself. I was looking for an idol but I found a role model, a best friend, a big sister. It’s weird how much I can feel Taylor this close when she hasn’t even meet me.

Living in my country for the last 6-7 years hasn’t been easy. My country has experienced the worst crisis, for all of you that don’t know I live in Venezuela and also was born in it. The government has damaged the least we have had in the last years and we literally are living in the worst situations. People don’t have enough money to EAT, BUY MEDICINES (if you can even find them), the electric system is a mess and the insecurity increases every day. People are dying, people leave the country to find a better place to live, everything is hella expensive, and I’m still here trying to hold on to my faith and hope that one day, this will change.

This whole situation has influenced a lot in my life, since I can not buy the things I want, or can’t even travel to go and see my fav artists, they don’t come to the country cause is really insecure. So it been difficult to find a way to forget for a moment all the bad moments that happen every single day.

Even if this is for Taylor, I want the world and my swiftie family to know about my country, about how hard is for Venezuelan swifties to even get a copy of Taylor’s albums. I’m so sad that I may not be able to buy it in my country, still, I cannot be more happy for it to be out NOW.

Our love for you has been intact since day one, and for as much as we are going through, we are still with you, relating to your songs, supporting you, loving you, wanting to know you every day.

I believe that one day this whole bad dream will end and we will be able to breathe again. Taylor, I want to thank you for making these days of sadness, doubt, tears and fear, ones day that can go through. Even if it seems like I’ve been living this forever, for some reason your music, your strength, your wisdom and words.. only you, made me feel that there’s a chance for me to have a better life.

I’m still studying my career in collage. I’m on my fifth trimester of journalism or audiovisual communication. I wake up everyday feeling motivated and positive. I believe that walking through a bunch of rainstorms will prepare me for the next years of my life, I’ll be clean and will survive this thirst.

I’m happy, even in crisis, I smile and thank God for my life, my family/friends and for you. I love you baby, I know that one day we will meet and everything will be worth it. I thank you for always being constant when some people weren’t.

I’ve become stronger, I can define myself as a warrior, a fighter. It is cathartic for me to actually believe that I am like this cause I have gone through a bunch of rainstorms that washed me clean, that made me like this. You light up my world, you make me forget the bad, you replace it with only good things, and you are a blessing to me.

Hope you can read and feel the amount of love I have for you.

Venezuelan swifties will be by your side forever.

Te amo. @taylorswift

Sincerely, me. -Arianna

anonymous asked:

The group going on ice cream dates with their s/o?

Me: a sucker for ice cream dates. Thank you so much for this request, please enjoy!


Akira:

  • Akira will likely share with S/O, since he doesn’t eat too much himself.
  • They’ll merely order a milkshake or share a cone.
  • He likes most ice cream flavors, so he’s chill with anything. Coffee has a special place in his heart, though. 
  • He’s definitely willing to try new flavors. a great bf
  • When they drink the milkshake simultaneously, they’ll stare at each other until Akira winks at them or waggles his eyebrows.
  • S/O just giggles and blushes, and Akira thinks it’s so cute that he’ll just lovingly kiss their forehead or poke their nose. 
  • “Gotcha.” help i’ve fallen for him and i refuse to get up
  • He always offers the cherry to S/O, but sometimes the vendor will give them two.
  • They will compete to see who can tie the stem with their tongue the fastest. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
  • Don’t let them share a cone. They’ll smear each other with ice cream because they are children.
  • If S/O gets ice cream on their mouth, Akira will take his time kissing them, then he’ll slowly lick his lips.
  • “Mm, tasty,” he purrs, his icy lips barely brushing S/O’s.
  • Join S/O and I as we have heart attacks.
  • Akira just cannot help but tease them; despite that, he’s incredibly sweet.
  • If S/O begins to shiver from consuming the ice cream, he’ll wordlessly throw his jacket around them.
  • When they goof off, the ice cream will sometimes fall over. S/O attempts to pay for another but he always interferes and pays instead.
  • He loves it when they ramble and then stop mid-sentence just to lick the ice cream or drink the milkshake.
  • He can’t help but smile fondly.


Ryuji:

  • Ryuji’s going to do the thing.
  • You know, the thing where you offer food to your babe and bait them into a kiss.
  • He snickers every time, and S/O just plants a kiss right on his lips.
  • “You could have just asked, dork.”
  • The heat from his face melts the ice cream.
  • He’ll enthusiastically add toppings for S/O.
  • “You gotta try this. Oh, and this too. C’mon, eat up! I’ll pay, so don’t worry about it.”
  • The dessert ends up consisting of roughly 90% of toppings.
  • “Oops. Guess I got a little carried away.” god i just wanna
  • He’s so adorable that S/O cannot hinder themself from kissing his cheek. “It’s perfect, babe. Thank you.”
  • Rest In Pistachio, Ryuji Sakamoto.
  • Since, these two go on a massive sugar rush after they eat, they usually have ice cream at the park so they can run around and play.
  • He would die for Spaghettieis.
  • Ryuji has a very child-like palette, so he’d probably enjoy an ice cream float or a few scoops of vanilla with an obscene amount of gummies and candies.
  • You do you, Ryuji. 


Ann:

  • Ann will eat her portion and S/O’s.
  • Well, she would if they offered.
  • They’ll link arms and eat their ice cream cones like that while they stroll around the city.
  • Sharing is a part of their routine, since they love testing out the new flavors.
  • “Babe, you have to try this.”
  • “It’s good, but it’s not as sweet as you,” S/O replied.
  • “…You’re cheesy as ever,” Ann sighed, playfully dolloping ice cream on their nose. “But you’re pretty sweet too.” i love her? i love her.
  • If Ann is dieting, they’ll get shaved ice, smoothies, or maybe a bit of fro-yo to satisfy her sweet tooth. 
  • They’ll even share one serving, and Ann will give her best effort to restrain herself so that S/O can enjoy it too. 
  • If they get tired of walking, they’ll relax on a bench and eat while leaning on each other.
  • Ann loves topping her ice cream with cake, whipped cream, and mochi.
  • Her favorite flavor would be birthday cake or strawberry shortcake. me too
  • She loves treating S/O, even when they protest.
  • They go on ice cream dates once a week, and they explore everywhere in Tokyo on a quest to find The Best ice cream.
  • Vendors will sometimes give them extra toppings free of charge because they’re just so cute and silly together.


Yusuke:

  • Remember that ice cream vendor that made several cameos in my writings?
  • If you don’t, it’s Yusuke’s and S/O’s favorite go-to for dates.
  • The reason for that is because he loves to decorate his ice cream with the wide variety of toppings. he’s too cute i’m
  • He garnishes it so beautifully that he doesn’t want to eat it.
  • S/O has to convince him since it’s just going to melt and he should just enjoy art in its rawest form.
  • You can bet that they make puns together.
  • “Yusuke, you really topped it all off with the mochi. I am dairy impressed with such cool piece.”
  • “You are very sweet. I am glad it’s to your taste.” They marry each other on the spot.
  • The first time S/O tried to spoon-feed him, confusion was written all over his face.
  • “But S/O, I already have my own portion. I am not greedy enough to deny you your own. We must indulge in such simple pleasures-” 
  • Step 1: Try not to kiss him.
  • S/O has failed step 1.
  • After the kiss: “Hm, that is a… delectable flavor.” He smirks slightly. “Would you think less of me if I requested seconds?” 
  • Boy’s got game, I tell you what.
  • They share their ice cream to experiment with flavor combinations and how they compliment each other.
  • His favorite flavor would probably be something like red bean or green tea.


Makoto:

  • Makoto and S/O wouldn’t go on ice cream dates too often since she’s very health-conscious.
  • She’ll likely order french vanilla, mint chocolate chip, or sherbet.
  • She’s quite fond of the flower-shaped ice cream.
  • S/O will offer her a small bite of theirs so she can try it.
  • Makoto’s eyes widen. “That’s… quite a bit of sugar. Will you really be okay eating that?”
  • “Probably not, but what matters is the experience.”
  • She just chuckles. “You’re absolutely right. Perhaps I should indulge a little, too.”
  • She feels queasy after a few licks. bless her
  • “M-maybe I’ll just stick to my usual order…”
  • S/O has to finish off her ice cream and take care of her.
  • Nighttime is when they have their ice cream dates because they can relax on a bench outside and watch the stars twinkle.
  • They hold hands and kiss cheeks, discussing how much they enjoy the other’s company. i’m not crying
  • ‘Bella Notte’ echoes in the distance.


Futaba:

  • Futaba’s ideal ice cream date is nabbing a few pints from the grocery store and relaxing with S/O while playing games.
  • However, if they go out, they’ll order banana splits or sundaes and see who can finish theirs first.
  • Needless to say, their dates end with brain-freeze or stomachaches.
  • They’ll rub each other’s backs and mope together.
  • They agree that it’s worth it, and whoever loses has to treat the other next time.
  • She won’t share. She’ll probably steal some of S/O’s ice cream if they’re not paying attention.
  • If S/O pouts, she might share. they’ll have to look extra cute
  • These two inhale so much ice cream that the manager of the shoppe they frequent developed a meal challenge for them.
  • Futaba and S/O think it’s hilarious, so they’ll migrate to different shoppes to test if the other managers adopt a meal challenge.
  • She loves to clasp onto S/O’s arm when she’s full.
  • “Ugh, I think I’m gonna die,” she complains. This is one of the rare times she lost. 
  • S/O kisses her head. “There’s always a price to be paid.” When they glance at her, and she’s wearing a weary expression. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay for this one.”
  • She peeks at them from under her eyelashes. “S/O… I’ll never forget the sacrifice you’ve made.” 
  • Critical hit to the heart.


Haru:

  • Haru would adore ice cream dates with S/O.
  • Even more so if they’re having a picnic.
  • She’s very indecisive when ordering; she just wants to try everything.
  • Flavors like wasabi, squid ink, and purple sweet potato are so intriguing to her; she just can’t help herself. 
  • “S/O, would you like to try some?”
  • S/O can’t say no to her because she’s so earnest, so they take the plunge. do it for her
  • They just cry internally and force themself to maintain a straight face. “It’s… interesting.” 
  • Haru nods eagerly. “Yes, it’s very unique! I quite like it, myself.”
  • S/O watches in amazement as Haru happily licks her ice cream with no qualms.
  • Just what power level is she?!
  • She’s one of those people that can eat ice cream with their front teeth.
  • When they arrive at their picnic destination, they lay out a blanket and snuggle next to each other.
  • Both of them hum together since they’re so blissful while eating.
  • Hey Heaven you seem to have dropped an angel.
cave-in (langst fic)

Lance trying to survive a cave in, communications cut off, and the only way the team knows he’s alive is his suit, but they think he’s back at the village bc that’s where Blue is.

thanks for the prompt @tokyoteddywolf!! (this ended up way longer than i planned it to be)


“I am sending you on a different mission than the other paladins, Lance.”

Lance stares at Allura like she just grew another head- which isn’t all too bizarre, considering she is a shapeshifting alien princess.

“Why?” Lance asks. The other paladins agree, looking to the princess for answers.

“This mission is…” Allura hesitates, pointedly looking down at her clasped hands. “… well, to put it simply, it is…”

The princess takes a deep breath. “Well, Lance, this mission requires a certain level of… seriousness… that I am not certain you can achieve. You see, this is a  very powerful kingdom that could be a potential ally of Voltron. And it has… it has a princess. I am very sure she, and her parents, would not appreciate your-” Allura coughs. “-romantic advances. However, the mission you will be carrying out is of much less importance, and therefore should be quite difficult to mess up-”

Lance interrupts Allura with an uncharacteristically emotionless and quiet tone, though the hurt is clear in his eyes. “So you’re not letting me go because I’ll flirt?”

Allura nervously glances up at Lance from her fidgety hands. “I don’t know that you will, but we cannot afford to lose this opportunity.”

Hunk cuts in, his expression dark. “Allura. You know Lance can’t jeopardize the mission, don’t you? He can handle himself fine. Right, Lance?” Pidge nods rapidly in agreement, and Hunk’s expression softens as he looks to Lance, though Lance isn’t looking back. He’s calmly glaring at Allura, who is anxious but clearly standing her ground.

“I can control my flirting, princess. I’m not stupid.”

“I don’t mean to offend you, Lance. You are a capable paladin with many abilities, but seriousness is not one of them.” Allura’s voice is gentle and sincere, but also firm, as if speaking to a mere child. She patiently returns the stare with an equal amount of coolness that amplifies her royalty. “You being there could risk us a very important advantage that could further our progress to defeat the Galra. I’m sure you understand, Lance.”

“So by existing-” Lance gestures to the other paladins, who are concerned and surprised by Lance’s change in mood- “- I’m holding back the team? I thought I was part of you guys.” Lance’s voice betrays him by cracking at the word ‘part.’

Allura is horrified. “No, no, Lance, I don’t mean to say that you are not part of the team, I just mean-”

“-That I don’t belong? That I’m not important enough to go on the important missions? Isn’t that why I’m the only one that has to go on the easy mission so I don’t mess up everything like the stupid mess up of a person I am?” By now the tremor in Lance’s voice is blatant, rising in pitch with every word he spits like venom. Allura shakes her head wordlessly, tears spilling from her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she finally says. “I-I…”

“Lance. You know that’s not true,” Shiro intervenes softly. The other paladins are all gaping in disbelief and sadness. Lance turns away, not wanting to be pitied by his friends.

“Just brief me on the mission,” Lance says curtly to Allura, who nods shakily in response.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

how does it feel to have auditory processing problems? what do conversations and instructions sound like? is music soothing or painful? my character has problems with auditory processing so his speech skills are disrupted, he can only really follow one person talking to him at once, and usually wear ear protectors, is this realistic? sorry for the loaded question ;; thank you!

Hi there!

Speech that hasn’t been properly processed is often described as heard as though it was in another language. It’s not that you can’t hear it, you can hear the sounds clearly, it just… doesn’t make sense.

Auditory processing difficulties can be more or less important depending on the person, the moment, energy levels, the environment… They can range from not understanding what’s been said at all, to only understanding something very approximative (which often translates into mishearing the words as similar-sounding words, think of a game of telephone of sorts), to understanding the words correctly, but with a delay (conversations such as “could you pass me the salt please?” “what?” “I said, could-” “Oh, yeah, of course” can occur).

As I said, the environment can affect auditory processing: a noisy environment or one with many sound sources will probably be more difficult to understand speech in. Being able to only follow one person talking at once is thus definitely realistic.

I don’t know what you mean by “his speech skills are disrupted”. If your character has severe auditory processing problems, it could be that he’s nonverbal because he can’t replicate sounds he cannot understand. If he can process sounds well enough to make sense of language at least partially, I’m not sure his expressive language would be very affected. If anyone has experience with this, you’re very welcome to weigh in.

Ear protectors would help if your character has hypersensitivity to sound alongside their auditory processing problems, but I don’t think they always coexist: someone hyposensitive to sounds could also have auditory processing issues.

As for music, I’d say it must depend on the person and on the type of music. In my personal experience, I’ve never made a connection between my auditory processing issues and how I experience music, but there could be one. Once again, if followers want to weigh in, input would be appreciated.

Have a few additional suggestions: your character may need subtitles when watching videos (if he lives in a modern setting), and he might be more comfortable with nonverbal forms of communication. He may have learnt to read lips to some extent to supplement what he hears. Phone calls in particular could be very difficult for him.

-Mod Cat


With regards to music, I do find that my enjoyment is impacted by sensory processing. While I can usually enjoy music played quietly, music becomes painful when I am tired and struggle more with auditory processing. I find that music that I don’t know and music that is unpredictable becomes painful first, but even songs that I know well and enjoy become painful when I am tired. It’s almost as if I am listening to a poorly-tuned radio - I can understand if I pay very close attention, but there’s lots of static and noise in the way.

Music can also be disruptive. Your character might not be able to have a conversation if music is playing, so music would be an annoyance in lots of situations (shops and restaurants in particular). Ear protectors can help the character filter out the background noise - it physically stops them from hearing some of the background noise, so the speech isn’t competing with so many other sounds - but I am not aware of this commonly being used, at least not for much of the time.

-Mod Snail

anonymous asked:

Rfa+minor trio reacting to mc being the worst cook in history but she looks so goddamn optimistic that they cant say her food is shit so its THE SHIT

✿ i may or may not have done some of these things over the years. which ones? guess.

Yoosung

  • Didn’t realize someone could mess up more than him.
  • It’s not that your food is misshapen. Yoosung’s food is misshapen. Yours positively looks diseased - like, what are those weird spots
  • are those sesame seeds?
  • why did you put sesame seeds in your eggs.
  • Tries to be kind about correcting your mistakes, and is as endlessly positive as you are about improving.
  • “It’s really good now! But I bet if we do this, it’ll be even better!”
  • This man learns to lie like a saint.

Zen

  • Since you’re the perfect person, you have to be the perfect cook, right?
  • WRONG.
  • WRONG.
  • ZEN HAS NEVER BEEN MORE WRONG IN HIS LIFE, AND HE IS THE KING OF POOR DECISIONS.
  • there is absolutely no way he’s going to spoil that delightful expression on his face though so he chugs beer to drown out the taste of Sin Itself.
  • Treats eating your cooking as a harrowing experience he must go through where the reward is your smile.
  • Always has beer with his meals, though. Always.

Jaehee

  • She grew up in an abusive household where her presence was constantly dismissed, derided, and unwanted, and she still has never experienced anything as awkward as this moment.
  • How do you not know?
  • How do you not see?
  • THE MEAT IS BURNED ON THE OUTSIDE AND RAW ON THE INSIDE, HOW DID YOU DO THIS.
  • She tries to tell you but you’re just
  • you’re just so happy and
  • She starts walking cooking shows with you and prays it’ll do something to fix the travesty that is your food.

Jumin

  • Never, not once, has Jumin encountered bad cooking, so he doesn’t actually realize you’re doing anything wrong.
  • He just think’s that putting a cup of black pepper instead of a tablespoon into food is “a thing commoners do”, and treats it like a curiosity.
  • “How peculiar. Does the spiciness disguise the poor quality of the ingredients?”
  • “I see… is the texture both crunchy and hard to compensate for the pasta’s blandness?”
  • “Hmn… do the black parts give it extra flavor?”
  • doesn’t understand why you get mad after that. oops.

707

  • He puts his hands on his shoulders. He stares into your eyes. “MC,” he says gravely, like he’s about to deliver a terminal diagnosis. “I regret to inform you that you cannot cook.”
  • your heart is shattered to pieces, but before you can emotionally collapse, Seven continues.
  • “However, my love! Do not despair. This affords us with an excellent opportunity. Do you know what that is?”
  • You shake your head mutely, and Seven’s grin lights up the room.
  • “I can’t cook either. So together, we’re going to make the worst dish possible, and we’re going to force everyone else to eat it.”
  • It becomes a game. The rest of the RFA thinks you and Seven are unaware of how bad your Ratatouille de Actual Live Rats with Diced Grape Tomato Sauce actually is, and while they’d tell Seven to buzz off, they can’t tell you. So faced with your unending cheer, they eat it.
  • They consume it.
  • You make a corporate heir, a famous actor, and a former secret agent consume your terrible cooking.
  • you are monsters.

V

  • Doesn’t grimace. Doesn’t cower. Doesn’t say a word. He just smiles and says “thank you” when you present him al dente pasta that probably hasn’t actually ever touched water.
  • It’s not a lie. It’s genuine. This man doesn’t care that it’s garbage. You being happy and you trying to make him happy by spending time on something is enough for him.
  • Even when you ruin a slow cooked pot-roast by putting jelly in it.
  • Even then, he still smiles, eats it, and says he loves you.

Unknown (Saeran)

  • Like his twin, he’s also bad at cooking. Unlike his twin, he isn’t going to admit it, and he unknowingly joins you in being a terrifying force in the kitchen.
  • Dishes become exponentially worse when touched by the two of you. Saeran wants to add sprinkles, you want to add frosting, and suddenly your lasagna looks like a birthday cake.
  • “Let’s add candles! It can be dessert.”
  • The person who bears the brunt of your abuse is Seven, who doesn’t have the heart to tell either of you how awful your food is.
  • It culminates in you sending him to the hospital.
  • You’re enrolled in classes after that, becoming a poor home ec teacher’s problem.

Vanderwood

  • Vanderwood wakes up at 3AM to find you sobbing over the stove, its glass top shattered and spices scattered everywhere on the floor.
  • Apparently, you’d been possessed by the fae desire to make gingerbread cookies. Apparently, you were also too short to reach the cinnamon and cloves the recipe called for, and - in your flailing - the glass bottles all spilled out of the cabinet, breaking the stove, hitting you on the head, and scattering all over the floor.
  • In a vacuum, this might be an incidence of clumsy-cute, but you do this constantly. In a previous life you must have angered the god of cooking because kitchen appliances are always trying to kill you.
  • Vanderwood had to save you when you got your hair caught in the mixer. Vanderwood has had to bandage your wounds when you burned yourself on the stove. Vanderwood has had to help you pick up all the groceries from a collapsed fridge, and Vanderwood proceeds to baby-proof the kitchen and ban you from unsupervised cooking.
  • It’s for your own good, they say. I don’t want to come in here and find your decapitated body.
  • there is not a lot you can do in the face of their Motherly Tone.
"Oh my God. You're in love with her."

Harry was sitting at his desk working. Not stealing glances at Draco every chance he could get. They had just closed a case and were filling out the paperwork. Harry finished his report and looked up. Draco was staring off into space, a small smile on his face.

“What are you so happy about?” Harry asked. Draco flushed.

Before he could answer, there was a knock on the door of their shared office space.

“Come in,” Harry called. He made a mental note to pester Draco later about his smiling and whatnot.

A woman with black hair and fancy clothes stepped in. She didn’t even glance at Harry, but instead went straight to Draco’s desk. Draco stood and greeted her with a smile. He gave the woman a hug and a delicate kiss on her cheek. Harry looked away.

“Astoria,” Draco said. “What are you doing here?”

“I was out and about in the Ministry and I thought I should come see you. Is now a good time?” She asked, glancing around at the paperwork on Draco’s desk.

Harry wanted to tell her that it was most certainly not a good time. They were very busy, thank you very much, but Draco spoke before he could.

“I’m almost done. Let me just finish this up and we can go get dinner?” Draco asked.

“That’d be lovely,” Astoria said. Draco looked over the report once more, wrote a few things down, then set his quill down.

“Harry, you wouldn’t mind sending this off for me, will you?” Draco asked.

Harry grit his teeth and without looking up said, “Sure.”

Soon, Harry heard the door open and close. He was alone. He stood to grab his and Draco’s reports. As he approached Draco’s desk, a base exploded behind him. Deep breaths, he told himself. Accidental magic hadn’t been a problem for him for a long while. But, he supposed there was a lot of firsts today.

Didn’t Draco say there wasn’t anyone special in his life? He always refused to meet anyone his mother wanted to set him up with. His family was desperate for an heir. Draco always refused, however.

Who was that girl?

A few months later…

“Harry! It was reckless. You could’ve gotten yourself killed!” Draco practically yelled. His face was red and he was running his hand through his hair. He only did that when he was extremely agitated.

“I’m fine. Look at me: not even a scratch,” Harry argued.

“You’re ridiculous. That’s it. I’m filing for another partner. I cannot do this anymore,” Draco said. He turned to his desk, but Harry grabbed his arm.

“Oh c'mon you don’t mean that. You love me as your auror partner. The risk makes it more fun,” Harry joked.

Draco huffed, “It’s not funny. One of these days, you’re going to get yourself killed and then I’ll be left to deal with the backlash and paperwork.” Harry nudged him on the shoulder.

“Okay, okay. I promise I won’t put myself in unnecessary danger anymore. It wasn’t my intention to upset you. I’m sorry,” Harry apologized. Draco was still facing away from
him, but Harry could tell he was slightly more at ease.

“Fine,” Draco said curtly. “I’m still writing in my report that you were impetuous. Don’t come crying to me when Kingsley gives you a talking down to.” He turned to sit as his desk.

Harry smiled and said, “I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Harry copied him and made it to his own desk. He began the paperwork, but was interrupted by Draco.

“I was wondering if I could ask your advice on something,” Draco said.

“Sure,” Harry said, looking up expectedly.

“Well, Astoria’s birthday is coming up, in September,” Draco said and Harry tried not to wince, he really did. “But I don’t know what to buy her. I found this bracelet, but I don’t know if it’s too much. Maybe I should look for rings.”

Harry completely froze at the word ‘rings.’ This could not be happening. Draco stood and walked to the front of Harry’s desk.

He ignored his feelings and said, “In September? It’s July right now!”

“Its august tomorrow. I only ask you because I’ve never gotten gifts for… lady friends. I figured you would know with Granger and the Weaslette,” Draco said.

“Well, that’s hardly the same,” Harry said. They weren’t dating him. Sure, Ginny and him had dating once upon a time, but he never bought her a gift during that time. Buying for your friends was different than buying for your partners.

“Isn’t it?” Draco asked confusedly.

Harry ignored him and asked, “What does the bracelet look like?” Draco brought up his wand, and a picture floated in front of Harry. It was gorgeous. There were more diamonds than Harry could count and they were all aligned in a beautiful design to form what looked to be swans.

“Swans are her favorite animal. Is this too much?” Draco asked self-consciously. All Harry could feel was dreadful. It felt like their was a fifty ton weight in his stomach.

“Oh my God. You’re in love with her,” Harry muttered. Before, Draco could answer, Harry gathered up his stuff. He couldn’t look at Draco right now, he just couldn’t.

“Harry,” Draco said. But Harry couldn’t. He needed to get out of there now. “Harry wait,” Draco said as Harry made his way to the door.

“I forgot I have… plans. I need to go,” Harry’s aid hurriedly and he walked out, leaving Draco behind. He didn’t see Draco’s confused expression, or the patronus message he sent to Hermione.

As he was traveling down the elevator, it stopped on the Magical Creature Department floor. Hermione saw him and immediately pulled him out.

“Hermione! What are you doing?” Harry asked incredulously. He just wanted to go home and drink himself to sleep. Why couldn’t people let him do that?

“Harry, I need your help with something,” Hermione said she was dragging him through the room filled with cubicles and people.

“Can’t it wait until tomorrow 'Mione? I want to go home,” Harry said.

“There’s an office that keeps raining. But it’s not water it’s raining, it’s mud,” Hermione said. She stopped at a closed door. It was an unoccupied office, but Harry didn’t need to know. He also didn’t need to know that Hermione was the one to spell it to rain mud.

Harry sighed and opened the door. Sure enough, the office was filled with mud and it was only getting worse.

“I would think you’d know how to fix this, Hermione,” Harry said. He raised his wand and cast, “Finite incantatem,” not really expecting it to work.

The office immediately stopped raining and Harry raised an eyebrow at Hermione.

“Oh, I didn’t think to use that spell. How silly of me,” Hermione said, a blush covering her face.

Harry stepped around her and said, “Alright Hermione, I need to get home now.”

Hermione waved him off. Again, as Harry had his back to her, he didn’t see a message patronus, this time delivering itself to Ron. He got back into the elevator and made his way all the way to the atrium, where the floo was. As he stepped out, Ron stepped up to him.

“Ron? What are you doing here?” Harry asked quizzically.

“Just wanted to surprise Hermione,” Ron said, holding up a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

“Oh,” Harry replied.

“But while I got you here, I was wondering if I could get your advice on something,” Ron said. Harry remembered being asked the same thing by Draco and he wanted to go home now more than ever.

But he stayed and asked, “What’s up?”

“Er, well Hermione and I had a little argument over… the dishes. Yeah, the dishes. She said that she wants to hand wash them the muggles way, but I said spelling them clean is faster and better. It turned into a big fight. What should I do?” Ron asked.

“Well, the flowers are a good start. I would say to er, hand wash the dishes with her. It’s easy and you can get through dishes fast,” Harry said. Ron nodded.

“I’ll see you,” Harry said. He began to walk away but Ron grabbed his arm.

“Wait!” Ron exclaimed.

“What?” Harry asks, bewildered.

“How do you hand wash dishes? I’ve no idea,” Ron said and Harry sighed.

“I’m sure Hermione will show you. I need to go now Ron,” Harry pleaded. Why did everyone and their mother need to speak with him today?

Ron let him go grudgingly and Harry stepped away. When he made it to the fireplaces, he jumped in and said his address. The familiar tugging sensation overtook him, but before he made it home, he was thrown back into the Ministry. He tried it again twice with the same results. He switched to a different fireplace, but it still didn’t work.

Great, he thought, now the floo isn’t working.

Ten minutes later, he was out of the Ministry and above ground. Once he found a deserted alleyway, he apparated to his apartment. A sigh of relief escaped his mouth as he walked up to steps to his door. He used his wand to unlock the door and bring down his wards.

When he opened the door and turned on the light, yells of “Surprise!” rang through the house. He looked around and saw all of his friends: Hermione, Ron, Luna, Ginny, Blaise, Neville, Seamus, Dean, everyone. At the front was the one and only Draco.

“Happy birthday Harry!” Hermione said.

“You guys didn’t really argue about dishes, did you?” Harry asked. Ron snorted and shook his head. Hermione stepped up to him and gave him a hug. He returned it.

“Thanks you 'Mione,” Harry said.

She shook her head and said, “Oh, don’t thank me. It was all Draco’s idea.” Harry released to look up at the man in question. Draco was biting his lip and looking unsure of himself.

“Thanks,” Harry said and Draco nodded. And the party began.

It was nice for Harry to talk to his friends and drink some beer. He had wanted something stronger, but he supposed he would have to wait. As the night passed on he tried to not follow Draco with his gaze everywhere, but old habits died hard. Draco was seemingly trying to keep to himself. Harry knew it must have been hard for him to contact everyone to invite them. Not everyone has made the best amends with him despite how much he had changed.

Everyone started to file out sometime after midnight. Most of them did have work tomorrow, after all. Harry closed the door behind Seamus and Dean, but didn’t turn around. He knew who was standing behind him. He wasn’t ready to face him even after all of this. Draco put a lot of effort into the party and Harry was grateful. But his heart was also shattered into a million pieces.

“Do you like the party?” Draco asked. Harry nodded and finally turned around.

“It was great. Thank you… Draco,” Harry said and Draco beamed.

Harry feigned a yawn and said, “But it was very tiring. Need rest for work tomorrow, you know.” He hoped Draco would take the hint.
Instead he said something completely unexpected.

“I believe you misunderstand my and Astoria’s relationship,” he said.

Harry’s eyebrows raised, “Oh?”

“We’re friends. Just friends. She helped me with something, that’s all. There’s nothing more between us,” Draco explained. Harry tired to squash the hope growing in his chest. He knew it couldn’t amount to anything.

“Why are you telling me this? Your love life has nothing to do with me,” Harry said.

Draco looked down at his feet and said, “Maybe it does.”

“What?” Harry asked.

“I didn’t give you your birthday present yet,” Draco said. He pulled a black box from his coat and stepped up to Harry. Hesitant hands took the box and opened it. Inside it was a beautiful watch. Lifting it, Harry looked at the back, where there was an engraving.

It said, “Just in case you lose yourself in time xxx”

“It’s marvelous,” Harry said.

“Yeah it is,” Draco said. Harry looked up to see Draco watching him. He was so close. His eyes flicked down to Draco’s lips and back to his eyes. Harry thought he could lose himself in those eyes forever. Draco leaned in until there was only a centimeter of space between them. He looked down at Harry’s lips and Harry lost it. He leaned in the rest of the way and their lips met. It was everything he ever hoped it would be. Draco’s lips were soft against his own. When their tongues met, Harry almost collapsed with pleasure.

After a few moments of this, Draco broke the kiss to murmur, “Happy birthday, Harry.” Then their lips joined again.


It was the best gift Harry had ever gotten.

anonymous asked:

Your villain x hero stuff is destroying me tho I'm just gonna rip out my heart and hand it to you, goddamn. Feed my addiction please: a villain (with somewhat an obsession for the hero) has the hero at their mercy. Sorry for the request and thank you for your writing and just have a good day!

I am so weak, like damn. Your addiction cannot be worse than mine, no need to be sorry, I live for interesting hero x villain dynamics. Okay. Last villain x hero thing I’m going to indulge myself with for at least ten prompts. Maybe some fluff next. 


1) The villain looked down at the hero, held tilting as they watched the hero struggle.
“You’re getting predictable, you know. That saving people thing of yours. It’s going to get you killed.”
“You say that like you’re not planning to kill me.”
“Sweet thing, why would I kill you? You might just be the best weapon I’ve ever seen.”
“I’m not a weapon.”
“All you know how to do is fight me, doesn’t that make you a weapon?”


2) The hero flinched as gentle fingers dabbed at their bruises, stitched wounds, cleaned away the blood alongside a chiding click of the tongue.
“Why are you doing this?” they rasped. “What are you going to do to me?”
“I dislike debts. Consider mine to you paid.”


3) “You’re obsessed with me,” the hero said.
“Me? You’re the one who’s spent the year actively plotting to defeat me and stalking my every movement. You’re lucky I feel the same way or I think that would be considered harassment.”


4) “You think you’re so good.” The villain’s expression turned as cold as liquid nitrogen, all playfulness whether mocking or genuine vanished without a trace. “But you do not hesitate to use my feelings for you against me. Perhaps you imagine that going out of your way to toy with me doesn’t count as cruelty? Why is that?”
The hero’s breath caught in their throat.


5) “I’m going to ruin you.” The villain confessed it softly, like the most intimate of secrets. “Maybe then I’ll stop loving you. Kinder for us both that way.”


6) “I like this, you at my mercy. It’s just like old times.”


7) “You think me a monster, perhaps you’re right.” The villain studied the hero almost clinically as they gasped desperately for air. “But at least I am what I am. You would tear yourself into a hundred pieces if that would make them love you, but don’t you see?” In an instant, they’d stepped close, cradling the hero’s jaw. “You’re never going to be enough for them. They want an angel who will save them all and you are only human.”


8) “Why don’t you just get it over with?”
“You don’t rush art, and you are worth more than a sloppy death.”
The hero didn’t quite know how to respond to that - it seemed sincere.


9) “All this,” the hero managed. “For power? Is it really worth it?”
“Don’t be such cliché – those are terrible last words. Honestly, I expected better of you. If you had power you wouldn’t be on your knees before me now.”


10) “Oh, please tell me you’re going to monologue and give me time to escape?”
“It’s like you want me to kill you.”

anonymous asked:

Heya, can I get 76, Hanzo and genji confessing to their future s/o their feelings and trying to kiss them, only for their future s/o to tell them they don't think they'd be a good kisser because they haven't kissed anyone before?

76

Jack corners you at the edge of the compound. His face unreadable. The last couple of days he has been acting distant and unresponsive to you. You dreaded thinking of the possibility that he actually hated you.

His arms were on your sides, cutting off any chance for escape. His gaze was intense enough as it bore into you, but his silence hurt.

“Did I do something to offend you,” you ask, your voice cracking. “If I did I’m sorry. I just want to go back to being friends and talking again,” you say, eyes downcast, unable to look at him.

You hear his breath hitch and you take that chance to look at him. His eyes were soft; the pained expression on his face confused you further. He took one of his hands and cupped your face.

“I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting,” he says quietly, “I’ve been trying to think of how to tell you…but I’ve come to realize that I care for you, deeply care for you.”

Jack grabbed your chin, tilting your face as he leaned in, his lips a breath away from touching your lips. You quickly turned away, your cheeks red with embarrassment. Jack sadly looked down at you.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I’ll go,” he turned to leave.

“No,” you say grabbing his arm and pulling him with such force that sends you two pressed together against the wall. His hands were on your hips, griping you tightly. Your hands settled on his chest, you could feel the quick beating of his heart underneath them. He was nervous, and waiting for your answer.

“I’m s-sorry for pushing you Jack,” you stutter, “I like you a lot too but…,” you take a long breath and tell him, “I’ve never been kissed before so I don’t know how to kiss anyone and I got nervous and scared and thought you would think I was weird and would think I didn’t like because I didn’t kiss you properly which is why I turned away!”

You looked at his chest, ashamed to look at him as well as scared. You hear him laugh and soon enough he embraces you. You look up at him and he gives you a genuine smile.

“You have nothing to be worried about,” he lowers his face to your ear and whispers huskily, “I’ll gladly teach everything you need to know.”

Hanzo

Hanzo sat next to you on the bench, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes closed. You were awkwardly waiting for him to say something to you; he had invited you over after all. The garden was lovely, but you wanted to know why Hanzo asked you over all of a sudden. Yes you liked him and admired him from afar but that was the extent of your relationship with him. It was a normal professional relationship from anyone’s standpoint. So why ask me here?

You open your mouth to say something but Hanzo finally turns to you and starts to talk.

“I’m sorry for inviting you over so suddenly. I have been thinking about certain things and thought it appropriate to tell you immediately than to wait.”

You looked at him confused. What had he realized? He had a slight blush on his cheeks has he turned away and you felt his hand find yours and squeezed it. You gasped slightly, your face reddening.

“I have realized that as much as I try to ignore my feelings for you, I cannot,” he said turning back to you. He was obviously nervous, would glance at your face quickly only to look at your entwined hands. “I like you very much and I hope that it’s not my imagination when I say that I know you have feelings for me as well?”

Your eyes widen, and then you groan looking away. Had I really been that obvious in my attraction to him? He chuckles as he grabs your chin, making you look at him. His smile sending shivers through your body. He pulls you closer to him and leaning closer, goes to kiss you.

“Hanzo,” you whipser putting your hands on his chest and stopping him.  

“What’s wrong,” he asks.

“I like you…but I can’t kiss you,” you say. Immediately you see his expression sadden as he turns away from you but this time, you grab his face and make him look at you. He looks at you and you give him a small smile.

“I can’t kiss you because I don’t know how to kiss,” you say nervously, “I’ve never kissed anyone.”

Hanzo chuckles louder as he brings his forehead to yours.

“That’s perfectly fine,” he takes your hands in his; “we can take this as slow at it needs to.”

Genji

“Thank you for inviting me over for tea Genji,” you say happily drinking your tea. You and Genji have recently started spending more time together and it made you extremely happy but also sad.

You liked him, a lot, and spending all this time with him only added fuel to the fire.  

“No problem,” he chimes, “I like you and enjoy your company very much,” he says smiling.

You laugh trying not to show how it affected you. Genji saunters to you slowly and sits next to you.

“In fact,” his smile getting bigger, “I like you a lot.” He carcasses your cheek.

You open your mouth slightly at his declaration. He actually told you that he liked you! He likes you!

“You gonna say anything?” he says chuckling.

You look away and feel your cheeks get warmer, “I like you too Genji,” you say quietly.

“I’m glad,” he says tilting your face.

“Umm,” you turn away.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he teases you.

“Genji…I’ve actually never been kissed or kissed anyone.”

“Oh,” he says solemnly. He looks at you, surprised at first but then smiles and brings you closer to him, embracing you tightly.

“I’ve sorry for trying to kiss you, I should have asked if you were ok with that,” he instead kisses the top of your head. You relax in his arms, nuzzling closer.

He lets you go and looks at you intently. He puts his hands together and continues to silently look at you.

“Is something wrong?” you ask, scratching the back of your head.

“The artist in me is just swimming with ideas.”

You feel your face get warmer, “Wh-what do you mean?”

the constant changing state of us

HOSEOK / J-HOPE / HOBI | BTS
5,176 words | A TRIFECTA (comedy/drama/romance)
featuring bff yoongi
warnings for language

notes: this was supposed to be a short drabble. oops. I hope you enjoy this plebeian way of writing, I can’t bring myself to wax poetic.

Originally posted by nnochu

To everyone, Hoseok smiles and out-shines the sun, his laughter more beautiful than a choir of angels, he carries that spark within, lifting the mood of all around him.

Except me.

To me, Hoseok smiles too easily, as if everything is a comedy show, his laughter shrill and sharp, a terrible cackle akin to nails on a chalkboard. His spark is more like firecrackers–annoying, loud, and not very pretty to look at.

Yeah, fuck that guy.

I spent most of my time avoiding his company like the plague, and the most unfortunate aspect of my life–and there were many of those–had to be the fact that we shared a best friend. How Min Yoongi, all round grumpy-guss and sleepy baby, got along with the human equivalent of microphone feedback, the world may never know.

Keep reading

No Strings Attached: Pt. 3

Pairing: Kol x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2173

PART ONE | PART TWO


The cab ride to the Mikaelson Compound felt terribly long. You had the need to just blow up Kol’s phone with calls and texts. But, you knew better that he would only ignore them so instead, you held back.

You gazed out the window and started slightly shaking your right leg from being so impatient to arrive at your destination already. We’re you really in danger or is it possible that Kol got jealous? Surely enough, you won’t stop until your question gets answered.

Finally after what felt like forever, you have arrived. You paid the cab driver with cash, letting him keep the rest of your change as you rushed out. Thank goodness Hope was spending the night at Hayley and Jackson’s apartment because you planned on raising hell once you got inside.

“Kol!” You shouted as you marched inside the compound. “Kol effing Mikaelson!”

Klaus and Elijah just happened to be sitting at the table exchanging words while drinking scotch. “Oh, hey guys.” You greeted, then went back to using your eyes to scan around the compound. “I know you can hear me!”

Just as you grabbed onto the railing to walk upstairs, Klaus stops you to get a word in. “And may I ask what my little brother did this time? It seems that bloke has a habit of getting himself into a mess.” If you had eyes in the back of your head, you would be able to see the amused look Klaus has on his face. The tone in his voice says it all.

“Long story, Klaus.” You weren’t in the mood to vent.

“I assume you’ve been drinking, miss Y/N? I can smell the alcohol in your breath from here.” Elijah said.

“Yup. Your sisters too.” You continued to make your way up the stairs without caring if Klaus and Elijah wanted to add on or not, you needed to speak with Kol.

After looking in room after room, you found Kol hanging out on the patio taking his time drinking out of a blood bag.

“Okay so you’re playing the ignoring game now?I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on.” You spat, stopping just a few feet behind him crossing your arms in front of you.

Kol sighed before speaking. “You don’t give up do you?” He turned to face you, setting the now empty blood bag on the nearby table.

You made no answer. “Fine.” Kol sassed then continued, “Well go on, let’s have a seat.” He pointed over at the bed since his bedroom didn’t have any chairs or couches available to sit on. You swallowed, then followed through, perching yourself at the edge of his bed as Kol did too.

“Okay, so?” You questioned, keeping your eyes on him.

“I suppose, seeing you with that vile man made me uneasy. I wanted to snap his neck the moment I saw him speak to you. But seeing as Marcel has these rules, I simply cannot.” Kol said.

“First of all, that man was very polite to me. And secondly, how in the world did it make you feel so uncomfortable that you just had to ruin our night out?” You asked, fixing him with a stare as you await your answer.

“I’m aware that we had these bloody rules about not allowing ourselves to feel feelings for each other. I mentally punish myself for it everyday.”

“Um what?”

Kol took a deep breath. “I, Kol Mikaelson, have unintentionally fallen for my…fuck buddy.” He admitted while forcing a smile.

You stifled a laugh and fell silent for just a moment. If you could, you’d pinch yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. How in the hell did you get so lucky?

“My apologies, darling. I know this is uncomfortable for you since it’s obvious you’re to trying to move forward with your life and all.” Kol stood up off the bed, he frowned, feeling embarrassed because he assumed you don’t feel the same way he does. “You asked, so I answered.”

“Oh no no no. I’m just processing this right now. Sit back down.” You patted your hand next to you on the firm mattress. “So when I told you yesterday that I wanted to start dating again. I actually don’t.”

Not a word came out of Kol. He just sat there trying to read your facial expressions.

“I ended up having feelings for you too, but since we made that stupid vow, I thought you followed it.” You confessed.

“Why not bother telling me, Y/N?” Kol questioned, resting his hand on top of yours.

“I could say the same to you, Kol.” You blurted, then softened your tone of voice. “But I hate rejection, so, I figured if I just distanced myself, the feelings would go away, you know?”

“I understand, love. Well since that’s all in order, what shall we do?” Kol quickly lightened the mood. He can’t ever be in his feelings for too long or else he’d go crazy.

You stretched, then made yourself comfortable on the bed by resting your head on the pillow. “I don’t know, you tell me.”

Even though Kol ruined your planned night out, you couldn’t help but get over it, especially since he looks so hot in his button up and you were still a little buzzed. Laying in his bed gave you dirty thoughts of all the sex you had with him. You flirted with the idea of Kol being on top of you right now. And of course, since you were his play thing for those last couple of months, you knew exactly how to get him in the mood.

You brushed your hair with your fingers to one side and teasingly bit your bottom lip, hoping it wouldn’t look too obvious that you’re trying.

“You’re a daft one, Y/N.” Kol chuckled, then crawled over to place himself on top of you. He planted his lips on yours which led to a hot and steamy kiss. You started to wrap your legs around his waist until all of a sudden, he stops and pulls back, giving you a devilish grin.

“Um, what’s wrong?” You questioned.

“Sorry, but that’s all you get, love.” Kol made known with that grin plastered all over his face.

“You’re annoying.” You scoffed and moved him off of you so that you can sit up on the bed.

“Oh don’t be so cross with me. Now that we both fancy each other on a deeper level, you’re going to have to work for it, darling.”

At first you didn’t understand, but you realized that Kol did have a point. “Yup, you’re right. So how do we approach this then?”

Kol took a second to think about it and then an imaginary light bulb appeared over his head. “I have a thought. How about I take you on a date or two and we move from there?”

“I’d love that.” The smile on your face could be seen from a mile away. You leaned over to give Kol a kiss on the cheek. “Pick me up tomorrow night at 7:00.”

“Brilliant.” Kol agreed.

You left the room so that you could end your night with Kol at that. Waking downstairs, you can still see Klaus and Elijah in the same spot. “Great.” You mouthed to yourself.

“Where’s Kol? Ah, let me guess. You rid of him with that dagger?” Klaus implied, taking a sip of his bourbon. Elijah just sat there and decided to mind his own business this time by keeping his opinions to himself.

“Ha. Ha. Very funny.” You joked, then walked out the front so that you could wait outside for your cab. There was no way you were going to wait in the middle of the compound for your cab with Klaus. You were tired and just wanted to go home and get some rest.

As you were waiting, you thought about how excited you are to go on your first date with Kol. You mentally crossed your fingers hoping that this leads to something amazing.

(The First Date…)

You never thought of Kol being the romantic type. Who can blame you though because you were so used to being his booty call that being viewed as something much more will take some getting used to.

The night sky was pitch black as the time is a quarter to 9. Kol told you to dress up and have you meet him at his house. Arriving there, there was a stranger on the driveway dressed in a suit who had special instructions on where you to lead you. You figured Kol had compelled this man.

The man led you towards the backyard in a path that led to the trees which had beautiful lights and lanterns wrapped around and hanging. The end of the path brought you to a table meant for two with high end looking plates and utensils. The table was also minimally decorate with well lit candle and rose in the center of the table. The best part about it, is seeing Kol sitting at the table waiting especially for you.

“Hello, darling. You made it.” Kol smiled, then he got up to pull your chair out for you.

“I mean of course. But oh wow. You did all of this?” You sat down, still looking around amazed with everything.

“I may or may not have compelled someone to help me.”

“Of course you did.” You rolled your eyes at him playfully.

It didn’t take long for the compelled butler (as you call him) to bring out a cart filled with 3 course meals. “Not too shabby.” You commented.

After lots of food and laughter, the night ended successfully. Kol walked you to the car and innocently planted a kiss on the forehead. Butterflies took over your stomach on your drive home and you laid in bed with a gigantic smile on your face.

(Several Dates Later…)

It has been almost a month now that you and Kol had agreed on this whole ‘dating’ thing. To the fortune of both of you, everything has been going great and you were just dying to have sex with him already. You were hoping he was thinking the same thing too.

Today is your day off, so you decided to invite yourself over to the Mikaelson Compound to hang out with Kol. The plan was to watch a couple of movies and maybe even spend some time with Hope if she isn’t with her mom and Jackson. Today would also be the first time that the both of you had alone time in his room since this all started since Kol’s been really strict on taking you out on dates only.

Walking in, you see Rebekah playing with Hope. Kol was just hanging out on the chair scrolling through his phone. It looked as if he was doing it to kill time as he waited on you. “Hey guys.” You announced.

“Hi, Y/N.” Rebekah greeted you, then went back to smothering Hope in kisses.

After Kol heard your name, he looked up and put his phone in his pocket. “Ah, darling. It’s about time you arrived.” Kol stated, greeting you with a hug and a long kiss on the lips.

“Oh you two lovebirds.” Rebekah stopped to compliment.

“So, I brought my favorite Tim Burton movies that we can watch.” You said to Kol, pulling the movies out of your bag for Kol to see, then put it back inside. You would love to give Hope some of your attention, but whenever Rebekah is here, she always tends to hog her.

“Whatever you like.” Kol said while looking at you with loving eyes.

Of course movie time meant cuddling in Kol’s bed under the warm blanket. 30 minutes into the movie, Kol had his hand over your thigh. It wasn’t long until the temptation got to him which led him to slowly traveling his hand high towards your core. Since you’re the one that’s probably wanted it more than him, you were more than happy to allow Kol to do whatever he wanted to you.

You started breathing heavily and let out light moans while he slowly rubbed his fingers in circles through your panties. One thing led to another and the next thing you know, the both of you were ripping each others clothes off.

Before getting too aggressive, Kol stopped himself so that he can take his time with you. This was a first considering when you two were friends with benefits, you were practically attacking each other. But this moment, at this pace was a euphoric experience.

You’ve never made love to anyone like you’ve done with him and you have the confidence to say that he’s the best you ever had, enough to put you to sleep. As Kol was spooning you while you were asleep, he made sure to kiss you goodnight. “So much for finishing this movie, love.” He whispered in your ear.


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