i should have taken my time

simplelink  asked:

Dear Archy, I have three questions for you (again from a personal perspective): At what age did you become interested in architecture? Do you believe that your "now" is the whole fruit of every correct step you have taken, or is it a set of actions that are not well achieved? What does it feel like to be (or have been) the vice president of the Cannon design company? I await your answers.

I was always interested in architecture (and drawing, and math, and a thousand other things). I decided to study architecture at the last possible minute when I had to choose between architecture and engineering before college.

Originally posted by yourreactiongifs

I have taken as many correct steps as incorrect ones. Today is what it is, no sense in crying over spilled milk. If anything, I wish I had not been in such a rush to get everything organized in my life and directed towards such a definite goal. I had everything set by the time I was 25, should have taken a bit longer to explore.

Originally posted by westoftherockies

That is something I don’t think about on a daily basis. I am an architect working with teams to accomplish great designs. The fact that I get to work with a great group of people at CannonDesign makes the daily grind bearable.

Originally posted by heckyeahreactiongifs

Mrs Willison’s Homemade Jam

by reddit user FamilialDichotomy

As a child, I was a picky eater like I assume most children are. As my parents tell it, my eating habits transcended normal childhood proclamations of “I don’t like broccoli!” and evolved into a refusal to eat absolutely anything of substance. Things other children might eat and enjoy like chicken nuggets, spaghetti, or even a hot dog were shunned by toddler me. It got to the point, they say, where they and my paediatrician became concerned for my health.

Keep reading

So I got cancelled on, on my birthday.

Ok so that guy I keep saying Ima leave alone. I gave him one more chance. We were supposed to go out for my bday. He tells me he is gonna take me out to eat.

At the last minute after I’m dressed, makeup slaying, hair popping, nails done. (I’ll show pics in a reblog.) the uber pulling up….he tells me. “Well I only have time to fuck you.”

………….

EXCUSE THE FUCK OUT OF YOU!!!!!

You got me all the way fucked up!

Go fuck yourself!

This is my damn birthday! Where I made sure I looked poppin enough to be taken out and you want to fuck me….prolly in your car no less!

I told him (nicely). I wasn’t about to do that, he can go do what he needs to do. But yeah I’m for real done. I should have known, and I need to stop giving men more than one strike.

Anyway. 😒😒😒😒

Unfortunately Even at 22, while liven with my mom she doesn’t allow m to go out by myself. Especially at night because she thinks I’ll get kidnapped. 😭😭😭

7 Questions to Ask When You’re Feeling Overwhelmed

1. Which of these tasks should I prioritise? Do what’s most important first, and the pressure will subside.

2. Would I achieve more if I got some extra sleep? If you’re too tired to work then you’re usually less productive.

3. Are other people sucking the life out of me? Are there certain individuals who’re demanding too much time?

4. Is there anything at all that I can delegate? Do I have to do it all, or do the whole thing on my own?

5. Have I taken on too much on because “I don’t let people down”, or I’m afraid of saying “no”; or do I fear the negative reactions of others?

6. Is my space full of clutter, and that’s adding to my stress? Do I need to tidy up, or just get rid of some old stuff?

7. Can I withdraw, or take time off to recharge my batteries? Do I really need a break, and need the chance to be refreshed? Would I likely perform better if I made time for self care

Ten Things Trans Men Want You To Know

By Jason Robert Ballard

Over my life as a transgender man I have had moments I wish I could have said something to someone close to me but failed to. Until going back in time is an option, lets move forward with better understanding on things we wish we could tell our close friends and potential partners. If you’ve received this article from a friend, are they trying to tell you you’re guilty of one of these points? Potentially, or they just think it was a good read and you might enjoy it.

1. You’re guilty by association
You will receive more questions about me than I will. People who are confused or curious will typically ask a person they believe can relate to them or think share similar experiences. Talk to me about what I’m comfortable with you sharing when you field these questions. If I prefer not to be outed, you could respond with a simple, yet firm “It’s not my place to answer these questions for you, I’m sorry.” If I’m open about my transition, find out how to appropriately answer or divert harsh questions. This will make you a better ally and allow conversations to flow toward critical discussions instead of focusing on sexualizing the experience. As the topic of transgender lives emerges in mainstream media, questions often fall into one of two categories “genuine curiosity” or “superficial curiosity”. The question, “What are some reasons a transman might not have bottom surgery” is different from the question “Do you have a penis?“ Knowing whether the questioner is coming from a place of good will or being malicious may help you decide how to handle these moments.

2. “But you’ll always be _____ to me” hurts
Transition in life is inevitable. While seeing your little cousin for the first time in years and enjoying the fact that they were once in diapers, one may say “Aw, but you’ll always be little tommy to me!” and be perfectly acceptable. However, in my case I may have struggled with who I was and how I felt about myself before coming out as the authentic me. This is a time in my life of positive growth and happiness and if I’ve chosen to share it with you, telling me that you’d rather remain seeing me as someone I have taken great risks to leave behind is hurtful and damaging to our friendship. Telling me I’ll always be my birth name or birth sex in your eyes can be like telling someone who struggled with depression that you’ll always see them as ‘that pathetic emo kid’ or someone who fought with self image and weight lose that they’ll always be ‘fat’ to you. See what I’m saying? Yes, we may have a long history of knowing each other before I came out and that might be hard for you to let go of or see differently. Let me know you’re trying by not using this statement.

3. Outing me can be extremely dangerous.
As positive as some of the media and support for trans people are, there is still an overwhelming amount of hatred and ignorance. Hundreds of transgender people are murdered every single year and most of these times the killer walks due to failed/no protection laws in place for me. You may think that having a trans friend and talking about it in a public setting is fine, but if the wrong person over hears you or tells their friend who tells their friend, I could be in serious danger. It being a novelty to have a trans friend isn’t worth my life. If you want to talk about it, just don’t use my name and say you’ve ‘got a friend’.

4. My dysphoria isn’t your fault
It can be tough to be emotionally involved with someone who has a hard time with self image. You yourself may feel like you’re solely responsible for their happiness but sometimes their sadness comes from a place you simply can’t touch. It is not your fault that I have places and things about my body that I don’t like paid attention to. Talk to me and find out what is okay with me and what you can do to ease any triggering of my dysphoria, but don’t take the dysphoria personally. Some relationships, trans or cis don’t end up being ‘text book’. If I’m uncomfortable with my breasts and talk about wanting surgeries in the future, being sad about that and saying things like “But I love your boobs!” or “No don’t, I love you just the way you are” isn’t supportive. In fact, it’s proof that you’ve created an image of me in your head that doesn’t match up with who I really am and that’s not a positive basis for a relationship.

5. “It isn’t the T”
Beginning hormone replacement therapy can be a HUGE moment in my life. However, following that achievement I may lash out at you or be a jerk. If I say things like “It’s the testosterone”, you have my permission to not believe it. I am well aware of the emotional changes that I’ve decided to undertake and there are countless support systems and advice articles for dealing with extra tension and shorter tempers all over Google. My mood swings and hormonal imbalance are mine to control, not yours to tolerate. I have no right to be rude to you or push you away and blame a substance.

6. How do those egg shells feel?
Don’t get so hung up on words that the conversations never happen. You know me, if we’ve been close for any period of time you know what and how to phrase questions and statements to not be offensive. Though I may not want to be an educator all day every day to strangers at the grocery store, you’re my friend and it shows me you care when you’re excited about my transition with me. Many transgender people don’t have or lose their entire support systems when they come out so I’m lucky to have you. If you’ve been around the web a time or two you’ll notice our community gets hung up on terms and words. Don’t let this frighten you into bailing on me.

7. Don’t date me despite me
If you’re interested in dating me, make sure you’re interested because of who I am, not despite my trans status. You’re not doing me a favor by being interested in me ‘even though’ I’m trans, you’re making it seem like to you it’s something that makes me hard to handle or below you and THANK GOODNESS you’re here now to be interested in me because who else would? Rude.

8. What you say behind my back is what you really think of me
When I first come out, some people might say things like “It’s about time” or “I always knew”, some may say they had no clue and some people might not believe me due to the rise of something called “trans-trending”. Whether you think I’m doing this for attention or because my friend is doing it too isn’t for you to decide. The locals don’t get to get together and vote to approve my trans status. There is no way for you to tell what has been going on in my mind for years and what I’ve struggled with personally. There are many ways to transition and no one way is perfect or the way it has to be done. Talk to me about it, find out my story if you feel so inclined. If not, just leave it alone because it doesn’t affect your life at all.

9. My pronouns mean a lot to me
Chances are I’ve chosen a new name and have preferred gender pronouns, you using them is a big deal to me and when you do it shows me that you support me in bettering my life for myself. Which should be qualities of all friends! At the beginning, you may slip or mess up but I promise I’ll be able to tell if someone is genuinely trying or if someone is making a point to use the wrong ones.


10. Thank you
If you’ve taken the time to read or share this article with someone close to you, you’ve sought out advice on being a better Trans Ally and that to me is admirable. Wanting to educate yourself to make me and any other transgender person in your life more comfortable in this time of great community and media change is worth a big thank you. There is a lot of anger and hatred in the world and in our small community and sometimes Allys can be pushed to their limits or be afraid to use the wrong words or do the wrong thing. Every single person behind us and in support of us is valuable. Thank you for your patience, your friendship and your love.

2

“Several times during the last three years I have taken up my pen to write to you, but always I feared lest your affectionate regard for me should tempt you to some indiscretion which would betray my secret.”

                                                                                           The Empty House

The Kissing Booth

A SnowBaz fanfiction


Simon

Once a year, usually in the spring, Watford stages a carnival for the students.  It’s usually quite humble, mainly consisting of booths selling small magic trinkets, or snacks like cotton candy, sweets and other classic carnival fare.  There’s always the tiny petting zoo over near the Cloisters, and some years Watford even scrapes enough together to bring in a carousel.  Most of the booths are run by student volunteers, and though everything is by donation, all proceeds go to whichever charity the student body has voted on.

           I go every year, mostly for the caramel apples and sweet cider, but this is the first year I’ve been behind the scenes of the carnival and helped at a booth.

           In truth, I didn’t even sign up for it, but Agatha hadn’t had a break all day and needed some cotton candy of her own.

           I should have told her to find Penny, or Trixie or even Minty.  Anyone but me.

           It doesn’t take long for the word to spread that Simon Snow has taken over the Kissing Booth, and mortifyingly the line has doubled in length.  Mostly first or second-year girls, blushing and stammering or swaggering up to the counter with a pronounced sway in their step, with the odd boy interspersed through the line.

           It’s not the worst thing that’s ever happened to me – that honour goes to the time in second year that Baz stumbled upon a spell that made my clothes slowly dissipate, garment by garment, in the middle of the dining hall – and after the first two or three quick, cold kisses I start to calm down, but I’m counting the minutes until Agatha comes back.  How she endured hours of this, I cannot comprehend.  That’s just Agatha, I guess.

           A redhead drops her donation into the tin and her eyes flit around, meeting me for only a split second at a time, her cheeks aflame.  I try to look as non-threatening as I can and lean forward enough that she can close the rest of the space.  She darts in with a kiss that’s no more than a peck before running over to a giggling pair of who must be her friends, a triumphant grin on her face. She must have been dared.  Poor girl.  I hope I wasn’t her first.

           “Well, well, well.”

           My stomach lurches at the cold drawl I know only too well.

           “What are you doing here, Baz?” I say in as civilized a tone as I can manage.

           He stands there with his arms crossed over his chest, his mouth in a twist that’s a bit too amused to be a sneer.  “When I heard that the Chosen One had taken over the Snogging Booth, I simply had to see it for myself.”

           “Well, now you’ve seen it, so now you can go.”

           “Saving the World of Mages one kiss at a time,” Baz murmurs with a chuckle.  “Not exactly what I was envisioning.”

           “I’m only covering for Agatha,” I retort, “she’ll be back in five minutes if you’re wanting her services.”

           He scoffs.  “I’d rather not snog your girlfriend, thank you very much.”

           “She’s not my – forget it,” I shake my head.  I’ve told him at least a dozen times, but it never stops him.

           “She must have been really desperate for a break to put you in charge,” Baz drawls on, his voice smooth like honey but with too much of a bite to be sweet.  “You’d think she’d at least pick someone attractive for the Kissing Booth.”

           It stings, but I don’t flinch.  “What, someone like you?” I spit back too fast.

           His eyebrows shoot up in delighted surprise as I realize my mistake.  “You flatter me, Snow,” he purrs, and I feel my cheeks heat up, but I furrow my brow tighter and hope it passes for anger.

           “Is there a reason you’re still here?” I growl as the burning spreads from my cheeks to my ears.  

           “As a matter of fact, there is,” Baz says, and his gray eyes look cool enough to staunch the flames at the tips of my ears, but the more I glare into them the more the fire rages.  “I’m here to torment you.”

           “Great, well you’ve done that.”

           “I wanted to see what you’d do.”  He leans on the edge of the counter, bringing his face far too close to mine for comfort. “What would the Mage’s Heir do if his nemesis showed up at the Kissing Booth?”

           “You can torment me any time,” I shoot back, “you’re holding up the line.”

           “Oh, yes, well,” he feigns conern, “I wouldn’t want to keep anyone from their kiss.”

           “Then go away.”

           His eyes narrow and he pretends to think.  “Mmm, no.  I don’t think so.”

           “Baz, I’m warning you.”

           “Terrifying,” he drones, “but this is too much fun.  Besides,” his eyebrow flickers up, “don’t you owe me a kiss?”

           I flash him a smirk of my own.  “Aw, Baz. If you were so desperate for a kiss, you could’ve just asked.”

           Baz, to his credit, doesn’t bat an eye.  “You think of that comeback yourself?”

           “There’s a fee, you know,” I ignore him, barely having to raise my voice above a murmur for him to hear me, he’s so close.  “You haven’t paid the fee, so I don’t owe you anything.”

           He doesn’t drop his eyes from mine, and the cool gray takes on the spark of a challenge.  Out of my periphery I see him reach into his pocket, and there’s the clatter of coins dropping into the tin.

           I should punch him.

           I should spit in his face.

           I wanted to see what you’d do.

           I take him by the lapels and crush his mouth under mine.

           He makes a muffled sound of shock.  To be fair, so do I, but mine is more angry than it is surprised.  I kiss him hard and rough, and it’s a bit of a juxtaposition because his mouth is oddly soft.  A face like his, you’d expect his lips to be made of marble, cold and unmoving, but he’s the farthest thing from unmoving.  I can’t tell if he’s struggling or if he’s kissing me back but his lips are so, so soft and I want to bruise them, mark them, bite them…

           I only stop when a series of wolf whistles reminds me that there are at least ten people watching us.

           Trying to salvage the illusion of control, I break away harshly, still gripping him by his collar.  The cocky smirk has dropped from his smooth features and now his face mirrors mine, a matching scowl, like I’ve crossed a dangerous line.  I probably have.

           “Was that what you wanted?” I growl.

           He doesn’t answer, just holds my gaze another few seconds before pushing back from the table, his lapels slipping out of my hands, and stalking away.

*** 

I don’t see Baz at the carnival after that, and I stay as long as the booths are open, perusing the same counters and feigning interest even after having looked through their contents three times.  I keep Penny company where she mans the popcorn booth, drizzling caramel over every few cartons, and I even get bored enough to hang around Agatha back at the Kissing Booth for a little while, until one too many patrons have asked if I’m available for service.  When she and Penny are freed we pet the goats at the petting zoo, the ones that Ebb has graciously volunteered for the event, and take a few spins on the carousel.  Only once the light has begun to fade and the signs are being lowered from their booths do the three of us part ways.  Even then, I offer to help Ebb get her goats back safely.

           Basically, I’m doing anything I can to put off going back to the room, but eventually I can’t avoid it any longer.  I’ve wandered the grounds enough times that the sun has properly disappeared behind the distant hills and I can barely see the ground in front of me. Even then I’m tempted to consider crazy alternatives like spending the night at Ebb’s place, but I’m pretty sure that would be against school rules anyway, and besides, I’ll have to face Baz eventually.  There’s no undoing what’s happened.

           When I finally trudge back into the room, he’s staring out the window at the moat, presumably trying to intimidate the merwolves, but he turns at the sound of the door.  His expression, though I don’t see it for long before I look away, is hard to read. Wide eyes and a furrowed brow, like he’s still mad at me for my stunt earlier, but there’s a bit of a questioning edge there, too.  Almost a where were you edge.

           Normally I have to start any type of conversation, but tonight he wastes no time. “What the hell was that, Snow?”

           There’s no question as to what he’s referring, and I can’t help but get angry again.  “Me? You’re the one who had to start something!”

           “Well, you didn’t have to react so drastically,” he mutters, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall by the window, the moonlight casting its glow on his skin and making him even paler than usual, almost transparent.  I half expect fangs to slide out from his lips for no reason and complete the picture.

           His soft, soft lips.

           “You were egging me on,” I seethe, the memory igniting the rage that I’d felt in the fractured moment before kissing him, “it’s your fault anything happened.”

           “Proud little hero,” Baz says with the slightest smirk, “can’t back down from a challenge.”

           “You know I can’t, not in front of people.”

           “Wouldn’t want them to think the Heir is a coward.”

           I feel like a balloon in me is swelling and deflating at once.  “But that’s just it, Baz,” I insist, anger momentarily aside.  “If they think I’m afraid, what reason do they have to hope?”

           He doesn’t answer right away, and for a second I think maybe he understands. I want so badly for him to understand.

           “No reason,” Baz eventually says, turning to look out the window again, “not with someone like you as the Chosen One.”

           I want to groan, to kick something, to shake him by the shoulders and make him look me in the eye and for once not fight me.  Have we ever in our lives made eye contact without there being some challenge between us?

           “Why did you have to get in that line?” I shake my head.  “There are so many other ways of tormenting me, lower-stakes ways.”

           “To be fair, I’ve already exhausted most of those,” Baz murmurs with a little shrug of his shoulders.

           “When have you ever been fair?”

           “Touché.”

           I’m tired of standing here at the door, so I kick off my shoes and sit down on my bed, trying not to think about how much closer I am to him now, still at the window, looking as vampiric as ever.  His gray eyes are positively silver in the moonlight, and the black of his hair looks silkier than ever, as if it’s soaking the rays directly into him. He almost glows.  I have to laugh a little, because more than once Baz has mockingly compared me, with my bronze curls and sky-blue eyes, to the sun, but he himself wears a halo of night.  If I am the sun, then Baz is most certainly the moon.  Distant, cold, mysterious, almost too pristine to touch.

           His gaze returns to me suddenly.  He raises an eyebrow in a wordless inquiry, and I realize I’ve been staring.

           “What exactly was it you expected me to do?”

           “At what point, Snow?” he gives a humourless laugh.  “You had more than one opportunity to react.”

           “When you paid the fee.”

           His tiny smile disappears.  “It doesn’t matter.”

           “It does.”

           “Drop it, Snow,” he says, the hardness returning to his eyes, and I know I’ve cornered him.  Drop it is Baz’s way of betraying himself, of saying there’s something that he doesn’t want to tell.

           “Was I supposed to kiss you?” I ask.  For some reason I have to know.

           “No.”

           “Then what?”

           “I don’t know, Snow, punch me.  Push me. Beat me to the ground.  Something.”

           My brow furrows in confusion.  “Wait. You wanted me to hit you?”

           He shrugs, more with his head than his shoulder.  “One of us has to get hurt, right?”

           I rise to my feet, and I’m face-to-face with him again, only his eyes are different this time.  Whereas at the booth he had betrayed no hint of doubt at our closeness, now there’s a flicker of something in the silver, something that feels a lot like the way my heart is racing in my chest, and it dawns on me.  He was putting on a show at the carnival, acting like nothing I could do would get to him, just as I had been.

           If they think I’m afraid, what reason do they have to hope?

           One of us has to get hurt, right?

           And suddenly it makes sense.

           There’s only a few inches between us, so it feels almost natural when I lean in and press the gentlest of kisses to his lips.

           He doesn’t kiss me back this time, but he doesn’t move away either.  “What was that for?” he asks when I draw back a second later.

           “You act like we’re so different,” I say wonderingly, “but we’re the same.”

           “How?”

           “What do you think we’d be if we didn’t have to fight each other?”

           I don’t miss the split second of longing in his eyes.  “Keep dreaming, Snow.”

           “Because I bet it would involve a lot more of this.”  I bring a hand up to his neck, my fingers instantly lost in the wavy tips of his hair and it’s exactly as soft as it looks bathed in moonlight.

           Baz closes his eyes like he has to collect himself.  “You’re the hero.  I’m the villain.  What more do I have to say?”

           “Fuck that,” I chuckle, “we both know that’s not true.  You’re a boy, and I’m a boy.  That’s all.”

           “Tell that to the rest of the world.”

           “I don’t care about the rest of the world,” I shake my head adamantly, “I want to know what you think.”    

           “About what?”

           “If there was no act, no reputation, no role to play,” I murmur, “if we were just two boys, what would you do?”

           Baz returns my gaze a moment, searching my eyes.    

           Then his lashes close and he’s kissing me, and my eyes drift shut again like I’m sighing in relief.

           I let my fingers tangle higher up in his hair while my other hand grips the front of his shirt like earlier, only without the anger of the afternoon.  He angles his head further and guides the kiss deeper, his hands gently gripping my waist and pulling me closer.  I melt against him, my mouth moving with his, my head swimming with his citrusy scent, and I can’t hold back the moan that escapes my throat when he takes my bottom lip between his teeth in a gentle tug. Suddenly I’m floating, weightless, and Baz gives a muffled sound of surprise when I press back a little harder.

           When we finally break apart, both of us gasping and dizzy, I immediately want more, want to line his neck with my mouth, want to feel his breath hitch when I reach the base of his throat, want to hear my name in his sigh.  Would he sigh Snow or Simon?  I want to know.

           “Please,” I whisper, dotting a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “can’t we just be two boys?”

           When I meet his eyes, they’re full of more longing than ever.

           In response, he kisses a soft, slow triangle pattern on my cheek, and I recognize the pattern of the three moles by my eye, and I can’t help but smile.

“We can try.”

Plagiarized fics - asking for help from the 1D fandom

Hi everyone! I’m poking my head in your door from the Haikyuu fandom to ask you guys for help. I have spoken to quite a few people in the One Direction fandom thus far and I have been overwhelmed by their kindness, support, and how fast everyone I talked to acted to help me and my friend get this sorted out.

It came to my and my best friend ellessey-writes’s attention (confusing names, sorry! I’m Esselle) this morning that many of our fics had been stolen by the Tumblr/AO3 user Fruxoo, who has since deleted her accounts.

Here are two screenshots of Fruxoo’s fics, posted in April. The first is a direct copy of my story Hunger, completed last June 2016. The second is the summary from Ellie’s story Tea and Sympathy, posted January of this year. The entire text of every fic Fruxoo stole has been copied almost exactly word for word from our fics, changing only the names and other relevant character info.

I messaged her privately and asked that she post an explanation on Tumblr, as well as replace the text of her stolen works with links to our respective stories, in order to notify any readers who enjoyed these works. Unfortunately, she didn’t respond. Now that she has taken everything down, that’s no longer possible.

It would mean the world to Ellie and I if people would help spread the word about what happened. Last year, between the two of us, we wrote 626,000 words. We poured all our energy and love (and time!) into these stories, and to have someone copy them word for word, lie to people who were kind enough to comment or send asks as if they had thought up the ideas on their own, and interact with other people in the 1D fandom based off of love for OUR writing, is devastating to us both. This was going on for at least 2.5 months.

Besides the two stories listed above, we know As Long As You’re Smiling was actually copied from ellessey-writes​​‘s fic The Chronicles of the Virgin Asahi. We think this is the first fic they grabbed, due to the note on the summary. Here is a masterpost of all Ellie’s works from last year, and a link to her AO3.

They also took my incubus story Dreamless and reposted it as Lilin. This fic was posted as a part of a collab for my close friend’s artwork. reallycorking​​ drew this (VERY NSFW) art as part of a 30 day challenge, and the two of us worked together for a full month on Dreamless. Here is my fic masterpost for last year, and a link to my AO3.

I wanted to share links to the rest of our work because we don’t know how many stories she stole (it seemed like there were around 10 in total). We didn’t even have time to make a note of everything before she removed her accounts. So we don’t know what people read and might want to re-find (if there’s any interest cross-fandom).

Again, the One Direction fandom has been so incredibly supportive (Gina, Ange, phd-mama, Emmi, Lisa and everyone who was so helpful and understanding). Ellie and I started off the morning crushed, and now I have comments in my inbox on the fics that were stolen, and asks on Tumblr showing support, and it’s nearly brought me to tears. Thank you all so much. If anyone who sees this would be kind enough to get the word out there in any way (reblogs, just telling your friends who’ve read these stories, anything!!), we’d be incredibly grateful.

THANK YOU, to everyone who takes the time to read this.

The signs as Kafka quotes

Aries: 

“I will not let myself become tired. I’ll jump into my story even though it should cut my face to pieces.”

Taurus :

“Once I enjoy a person, that joy knows no bounds.”

Gemini:

“One has either to take people as they are, or leave them as they are. One cannot change them, one can merely disturb their balance. A human being, after all, is not made up of single pieces, from which a single piece can be taken out and replaced by something else.”

Cancer:

“I usually solve problems by letting them devour me.”

Leo: 

“I am strangely tired, not from having talked so much but at the mere thought of what I still have to say.”

Virgo: 

“Time is short, my strength is limited, the office is a horror, the apartment is noisy, and if a pleasant, straightforward life is not possible then one must try to wriggle through by subtle maneuvers.”

Libra:

“I am a very unhappy human being and you, dearest, simply had to be summoned to create an equilibrium for all this misery.”

Scorpio:

“I can never tear myself open wide enough to people to reveal everything and so frighten them away.”

Sagittarius:

“I cannot rid myself of the feeling that I’m not in the right place.”

Capricorn:

“Should I be grateful or should I curse the fact that despite all misfortune I can still feel love, an unearthly love but still for earthly objects.”

Aquarius: 

“Being alone has a power over me that never fails. My interior dissolves and is ready to release what lies deeper.”

Pisces:

“I do not see the world at all; I invent it.”

anonymous asked:

Hi, what exactly is Stargate (like, what is the plot, how many seasons, that kind of thing)? I've seen it mentioned in combination with Leverage in some of your posts, and I've sort of picked up some of the character names from being on the internet, but I'm still not sure what it actually is. Thanks!!

What a delightful question that I’m going to have a ridiculous amount of fun answering, probably using too many gifs.

First, the bare bones facts: Stargate is a franchise that began with the 1994 movie Stargate, which was then developed into the TV show Stargate: SG-1 which began in 1997 and picked up about a year after the movie ended. SG-1 had 10 seasons and 2 made-for-TV movies. There are also 2 spinoffs, Stargate: Atlantis and Stargate: Universe. Atlantis has 5 seasons, and its first season coincides with season 8 of SG-1, with both beginning in 2004, with some fun but not strictly essential crossover between the two. Universe has 2 seasons and began in 2009, after both SG-1 and Atlantis had ended. I mostly blog about SG-1, but I enjoy all three shows and will at least briefly explain Atlantis and Universe in the course of this post, FOR FUNSIES.

The basic premise of the whole thing is that there are these devices (built by aliens, OF COURSE) called Stargates, which create wormholes that allow for basically instantaneous travel between planets all throughout the Milky Way (and other galaxies as well, it turns out, but that’s later).

The movie involves the US Air Force, with the help of the BEST FICTIONAL ARCHAEOLOGIST IN EXISTENCE FIGHT ME, figuring out how to work the Stargate, using it to travel to another planet, and helping the locals overthrow the evil parasitic alien who was posing as the Egyptian god Ra in order to enslave them.

SG-1 starts with Earth humans learning that “Ra” actually belonged to an entire race of evil parasitic aliens who used the personas of various gods to enslave humans throughout the galaxy. At which point, NATURALLY, the plucky Earth humans say “fuck that shit” and also “ooh, a whole galaxy to explore, HOLD MY BEER” and start having adventures and liberating the galaxy.

Atlantis is about Earth humans finally discovering the lost city of Atlantis over in another galaxy, and the adventures and struggles they have setting up a colony there. Also, space vampires.

Universe is about a bunch of Earth humans accidentally stranding themselves aboard an alien-built spaceship that is going they don’t know where in order to find the meaning of life, the universe, and everything. It’s much darker and more sort of psychological than the other two shows. Also more diverse. I like it a lot, but for different reasons than I like SG-1 and Atlantis.

SG-1 owns my heart, because it’s the show that helped me fall in love with sci-fi. Also, it has Dr. Daniel Jackson. It wrestles with what it means to be human and ethics and all kinds of really good shit. It’s not perfect, and the early seasons especially have some pretty major issues with sexism and white savior complexes in certain episodes, but overall I personally find it more than worth it, and the main reason is the characters, who you now get to hear me yell about my love for.

Keep reading

Imagine falling in love with Jensen while working on the set of Supernatural.


Only You

Characters: Jensen x Reader, Jared, mention of Danneel

Warnings: angst, fluff, language

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: This is the SIXTH fic for my 6k celebration and one year fic-i-versary. The line requested was, “Just because you love someone, doesn’t mean you should stick around and screw up their life.” It will be highlighted in the fic. This is written for @blacktithe7 I really don’t know where this came from. I hope you aren’t too disappointed.

Tags at the end

Feedback welcome and appreciated

Keep reading

Apples and Heroes

Originally posted by kissthejotun

Request: Can you please do a Star Trek story with Bones and the words “an apple a day keeps the doctor away”, “your pulse is weak,” and “all the apples in the world wouldn’t stop me.” They aren’t in your prompts list I hope that’s okay? Thank you!

Keep reading

5

Scott x Reader

Requested by Anon


“Why is he spending so much time with her? It’s stupid!” Hayden growled.

“I don’t know, you’d think someone so quiet would be able to control themselves, I don’t even know why he turned her, she’s always clinging to him.” Liam snapped as Hayden lent against the wall next to him.

“He didn’t stay up all night with me when I was struggling.” Hayden said quietly as she glanced at Liam who nodded.

Keep reading

Star Wars Fic Recs!

and by that I mean mostly focusing on/around Obi-Wan because my bias is showing and I cant be bothered to curb that impulse

(also gonna add in @swpromptsandasks​ who is an absolutely fantastic (not to mention prolific) writer who’d probably have something for everyone)

The Codywan fics

- Hope by lilyconrad - T - 6.7k

The Clone Wars are the backdrop to a quiet and fragile love between a general and a clone commander.

- There Goes The Atmosphere by missmollyetc - E - 45.2k (ongoing) (also a personal fav)

The most dangerous space in the galaxy is the distance between a clone and his general.

- Intertwine by @norcumi - E - 10.4k (also Padmé/Rex)

Padmé survives Mustafar. She and Obi-Wan strike out on their own with the twins, accumulating a far bigger family of clones, Jedi, and assorted troublemakers. Even in the shadow of the Empire, they manage to forge something new.

- Whiplash by dogmatix - T - 13.9k (ongoing) 

The world doesn’t stop just because you’ve won the war, and that goes double when the war might not actually be over.

The Rexobi fics

- Sketch by @peskylilcritter - G - 1k

Obi-Wan undercover as a clone.

- Couple Politics by @punsbulletsandpointythings - G - 2.1k

Rex can handle many things. Most things.

He’s pretty sure he can’t handle this.

- Kind, Sober, and Fully Dressed by @dharmaavocado - T - 23.7k

“You’re punishing me, aren’t you?” Anakin said. “I angered you somehow and this whole thing with Obi-Wan is my punishment.”

“Not everything is about you,” said Rex, hauling the guy up. “And, come on, have you seen him in those cardigans?”

“He looks like someone’s sad grandpa,” Anakin said.

In which Obi-Wan returns from four years undercover, Rex called dibs, the entire squad is not helpful, and Anakin hates his life.

(First in the Title of Our Sex Tape series aka that one B99 AU that I never knew I needed until it was in my face)

- Endure the Burning by @norcumi - M - 4.9k 

Captain Rex and General Kenobi both knew any interest they might have for the other was an impossibility. Then they discover that they are not just an impossibility, but something akin to a fairy tale.

- Two Weeks by scarletjedi - T - 14.7k (ongoing)

After yet another confrontation with General Grievous, Generals Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker, along with Padawan Ahsoka Tano, Captain Rex, and others from Skywaler’s 501st, find themselves crashed on a far-flung planet. With help two weeks away, our heroes must survive on this strange, abandoned land.

- Dancing in the Stars by @charity-angel - G - 9.1k

In which there is a really contrived excuse for Anakin to make an ass of himself, and Rex to be a good ori'vod (and maybe impress a certain other Jedi at the same time).

- In which Rex Doesn’t need his sight to get laid by @the-last-hair-bender (aka emocezi) - E - 2.5k

It had been an accident, or so Echo kept saying. They’d been bored, caught up in another endless round of ‘hurry up and wait’ and they’d been tossing around a flashbang in lieu of playing catch with something more dangerous. Like a grenade.

Of course someone had accidentally pulled the pin out and they’d all hurriedly stuffed their buckets on to protect their eyes. And then, because nothing is ever simple or easy. Captain Rex had walked in the room, sans helmet.

The 501st had, in Rex’s salty opinion, screamed like newborn Krayt Dragons and he’d had approximately three seconds to assess the situation before the world had turned impossibly white and he’d gone blind.

- The Best Cure by inkpenpaper - T - 5.6k 

It was the kind of milksop mission that would have normally been well below the paygrade of either the 501st and the 212th, so it was obvious Command meant it as sort-of leave.

Such a shame Obi-Wan touched something he shouldn’t have.

(Part of the this is not the fic you’re looking for series)

- War Against The Odds by @norcumi - M - 9.7k

Obi-Wan and Rex: from General and Captain in the GAR, to lovers, to survivors and Rebels.

Cody/Obi-Wan/Rex fics

- Waiting (Too Long) by @the-dragongirl - T - 6.4k

Rex waits by the bedside of one of his lovers, waiting (hoping) for him to wake up. Damn the Sith, anyway.

Or - Rex finds proof of the control chips and Palpatine’s treason before Order 66 can be fully carried out, and brings it to Anakin in time. Barely. Unfortunately, he does NOT get there in time to prevent the Order from being sent out to Utapau.

ObiAniDala fics

- Sigh No More by @edenwolfie - E - 131k (ongoing)

Anakin makes slightly better choices, Obi-Wan is a Mess™ and Padmé deserves none of this. AU from Mustafar onward with liberal manipulation of canon to culminate in some angsty, fluffy, domestic fix-it because we all deserve better.

I’m going to fix everything Lucas broke if it kills me.

who cares about your lonely heart by Elenothar - T - 28k

After the Battle for Coruscant, Obi-Wan has wings, a Sith Lord to handle, and a former Padawan who’s still not following a code of conduct for the Jedi. Facing the Sith Lord might be the easy part.

ObiKin fics

- Starbird by @imaginaryanon - T - 8.8k

As far as Anakin’s concerned, Obi-Wan is the picture of a perfect Jedi. or, Anakin thinks he knows everything about Obi-Wan but doesn’t. Anakin thinks a lot of things, actually, and he’s wrong about most of them. Anakin’s whole world view is turned upside down. Obi-Wan is having the time of his life.

- wicked thing by @imaginaryanon - M - 97k (ongoing)

There are rumours of yet another Sith Lord hiding among the Separatists. The Council sends Anakin to investigate. Anakin has a bad feeling about this. or, the story of how Anakin exists in a perpetual state of intense embarrassment, Kenobi is enjoying it a little too much, and everything is, generally speaking, a gigantic mess.

Bail/Obi-wan/Breha fics

- And Yet, I Love You Still by @punsbulletsandpointythings - T - 7k

At 25, Obi-Wan Kenobi met Breha Organa, and fell in love. At 34, Obi-Wan Kenobi met Bail Organa, and fell in love again.

- untinam by @spookykingdomstarlight - G - 2k

“I shouldn’t,” Obi-Wan said, body going rigid at her side. That wasn’t her intention, but she didn’t take the question back. She didn’t contradict him either. “The senator has only just returned. You two should—”

“He missed you, Obi-Wan,” she said, matching him for vehemence. In this, she would fight him. I’ve missed you, she thought, even though you’ve been here all along. “He would be disappointed if you didn’t put in an appearance.”

- As The Thunder Rolls by @the-dragongirl - G - 4k

Breha Organa must face the new reality of the Galactic Empire, both as the Queen of Alderaan, and as a woman. Fortunately, she does not have to face it alone.

Gen fics????

Ghosts of 66 series by dogmatix & @norcumi (because this is Star Wars and whats that without some Pain and Suffering)

Order 66 had thousands of loyal soldiers turning on their commanding officers and shooting them down. A collection of stories about some of these clones and their Jedi, and how death can often be a matter of perspective.

- Legacy by @deadcatwithaflamethrower - M - 18k

“Maul was my pride, my greatest accomplishment aside from the political games that have wrought me control over the Republic. Why should I take a second apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi? Why would you be worth my time?”

“Because I fucking hate you.”

- How Jedi Mourn series by @punsbulletsandpointythings (again, the suffering and pain)

They don’t. Until they can’t help it.

Rogue One fics (because i haven’t actually organised my shit so. i don’t got much for this yet???)

They Have Taken Photographs of Our Footprints in the Dust by @dharmaavocado - T - 4k

"Did you know I’m worth a quarter herd of bantha?”

At Jyn’s sharp inhale, Baze said, without opening his eyes, “My husband is an unrepentant liar. He is barely worth one sick bantha, much less a healthy quarter herd.”

In which Chirrut and Baze have spent more than half their lives together, and Chirrut likes to spin stories of how they were married.

climb, climb by @peradii - N/A - 1k

K-2SO: the droid with existential anxiety and a smart mouth.

Star Wars The Force Awakens fics

the beloved body, compass, polestar by @santiagoinbflat - T - 6k

Poe knows his place in the Resistance, in the galaxy at large–or, at least he thought he did.

But that was before Jakku. That was before Finn.

- tell me about the big bang by @jhholtzmann - M - 37k

There is a part of him that says: you are not human.

- falling, falling by @piyo-13 - T - 9k

Poe makes it out of the First Order’s clutches in one piece, which in and of itself is nothing short of a miracle. Or, well, he says ‘one piece’, but it’s hard to place physical value on mental capacities and anyways, he’s got other things to worry about than dealing with the aftermath of psychic Force-torture.

Such as that cute ex-Stormtrooper who saved Poe’s life, his droid, and most of his jacket.

Unfortunately (fortunately? He’s not really sure) for Poe, Finn knows what Kylo Ren is capable of, and he’s determined to help.

millienery  asked:

Hey marcia:) sorry to bother but I needed to ask...How do you establish commission prices?Lately I've been thinking of opening them myself but I don't really know how much it is okay to charge? I know it's supposed to be according to the amount of time taken per drawing,among other things. I'm not sure anyone would be interested, so I'm afraid it won't work, but at the same time I feel like I should just go for it(?)Like, I dont have the courage to start.. Thanks for reading this♡have a nice day

Hi! I’ll be happy to help :)

Honestly, this topic is one of the hardest and the most subjective things in the semi-private sector of art industry. Basically, you’re forced to ask yourself “how much is my work actually worth in the terms of money?” and this can be tricky. Obviously, no one wants to underprice their art and bring themselves down but overpricing will discourage the potential clients - achieving equilibrium is necessary. And difficult.

Here are some things to consider:

  • How long have you been drawing?
    If you’re rather an inexperienced artist/commisionee, you shouldn’t go for relatively high prices. One of the functions of price is informing the client of the quality of the service they can expect from you and the brand value. A new shop selling shoes cannot charge as much as Nike, you get the idea.

  • What is the service you can provide?
    In other words, what can you really draw? People will come to you demanding different things: their  OCs, favourite ships, fursonas etc. and you gotta know what you are able to draw. If someone wanted a dragon in a forest, you can’t just not announce that “you don’t know how to draw trees in perspective” by the end of the commission process! This goes back to experience - the less confident you are about your skills the less you should charge.

  • How long does it take you to make one piece?
    Usually, the longer you draw the more you can charge for a picture, but! Remember that time taking accidents such as “I cant get this hand right, I drew it 5 times and it still does not look ok” don’t count! That would be the effect of your lack of experience rather than you making the piece more detailed. We’re talking about a theoretically smooth process here.

  • How much time are you willing to spend on a particular commission?
    This is a little bit different from the previous point. The questions asks: how much time are you willing to spend to satisfy your client fully? Are you willing to make several value sketches? Colour compositions? How many times will you go back and redraw something because the client informed you they didn’t like it?
    The more you’re ready to do for your client the more you can charge. However, remember!! Each sketch/idea has to be of the same quality!! You can’t suddenly stop caring halfway through or decide that “this composition sucks, the client won’t choose it anyway, so I can half-ass it”
    You don’t get to decide that, the client does.

  • How much would you spend on your own art?
    Be honest and do not be greedy. You’re only starting and since art is surely your hobby, low prices will not hurt at the time being. First, you have to dip your toe in the water and decide if it’s okay, then make changes and eventually rise prices.

  • Check prices of other artists! 
    You gotta know what your competition is serving :) This should be your starting point, but!! Take as a reference several people with relatively similar art styles/experience to yours, and again, be honest with yourself. Adjust these prices to the criteria I mentioned above.

Additional commission related tips:

  • be as informative and neutral as you can be during the commission process; you can throw in suggestions but never any uncomfortable opinions
  • remember that it is you who has to put effort into pleasing the client,
  • it is not the client’s obligation to jump around you,
  • you can refuse to draw something, moreover, you can refuse the whole service if the client is eg. acting shady,
  • in your commission info state your contact, price info, way of paying and when it happens (before/middle/after work), how the commissioning process looks, how much time it takes, your preferences/info about your abilities (not necessary) and what you expect from the client,
  • the more information you provide the more confident the client will feel, it rises the chances of them commissioning you
  • be professional, be serious; surprise surprise - it is your job! :)


I think that’s all, hope I covered the topic fully and it helped! Now go rock the art industry <3

10

that moment ardyn showed ravus that yes, he’s aware that ravus isn’t here for the empire aka the moment ravus should have taken luna and run for his life

i think more than anything i’m angry about how much i’ve missed out on for the sake of my mental wellbeing. how many times i’ve hesitated or skipped out on something great because it made me anxious. how many days i lived in a fog or didn’t make it out of bed. i feel like so many opportunities and memories have been taken from me. maybe it should make me sad but it doesn’t; it makes me angry.

Queen in the North {Pt. 4}

Originally posted by snows-os

Requested: By some very lovely people, and myself, an actual piece of human garbage

Pairings: Robb Stark x Reader

Previously: {Part 1} {Part 2} {Part 3}

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: Injured!Robb

Word Count: 1,858

A/N: Long time, no see. I don’t know how I let this sit on the backburner for so long, as it is certainly one of my favorite things to write. Now that Robb is absent from my Game of Thrones viewing, I have been coping with this, so I hope that you guys enjoy! Feedback is appreciated, as always!

Somehow, Robb had managed to disappear. You’d made plans yesterday to meet in the library before going out for a ride. Although you didn’t accompany them on hunts anymore, you did love racing through the woods with Robb and Grey Wind. Ever since Ned had brought the direwolves back for the children, you had wanted one of your own.

He had brought them back when they were less like wolves and behaved more like puppies, really. You had smiled and laughed along with your family, happy that such a small creature had brought them such joy. But, try as you might, you couldn’t hide your want from Robb.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asked, tugging lightly on a bit of rope that you had procured for Grey Wind to play with.

“I was just thinking that I would very much like a dog.” You sighed, stroking your hand over Grey Wind’s fur.

“How many times are we going to have this argument?”

“I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.” You laughed, burying your face into Grey Wind’s side.

You knew exactly what he was talking about. 

When you were younger, you had come to Winterfell convinced that their house sigil was a dog. Robb had taken immediate offense, but to his credit, he bit his tongue for as long as possible. He hid his anger for a long time, but after a few days, he felt that he was going to combust if he didn’t correct you. He danced around the subject for days, before gently sitting you down in the library with the big book of house sigils.

At the tender age of four, you had mistakenly read “Wolf” as “Oelf” and Robb had never let you live it down. He brought it up often enough that you knew that one little mistake as a child was not going away anytime soon.

“Oh, Arya!” you called, spotting her hurriedly making her way around the corner. When she didn’t stop, you quickened your pace, easily catching up with her. “Arya, have you seen Robb?”

Arya took your hand, and resumed her earlier pace, explaining between her shallow breaths. “I have been looking for you all morning!” She paused for a moment, meeting your eyes before casting her glance once again to her shoes, tapping quickly on the stone. “Robb is in the infirmary.”

“I was just in the library, wait- what do you mean that Robb is in the infirmary?” You felt your heart beat quickening in your chest. It was your job to get hurt, and it was his job to baby you until you got better, and then do it all over again.

“I mean that Robb was trying to help Bran with his bow work and something went wrong.” Arya took your hand and tried to lead you to the infirmary again, but you were rooted on the spot. Your mind was a blur, you could barely think straight. “Robb is hurt. Robb is hurt. Robb is hurt” ran through your mind, a rather uncomforting mantra that was only making matters worse. 

“Y/N, he’s asking for you,” Arya’s voice was calm, somehow drawing you back to the situation at hand. Robb was hurt, and he was asking for you. Arya took a tentative step toward the infirmary, wanting to make sure that you were with her. You met her eyes, nodded your head, and tried to get yourself together before you got to the Robb.

Arya threw open the door to the infirmary, and you felt yourself holding back a gasp. Arya had insisted that he was barely even hurt, that it practically a scrape, but Robb looked as if he was close to death.

“This is why it does you good to get hurt every once and awhile.” You took a seat on the bed by his side, twining your pinky with his. It was a simple act, something that the two of you had done since you were children, who didn’t want to be made fun of for holding hands. Now, it was something that felt like second nature, even if people smirked when they saw it. He gave you a look, one that you knew meant explain yourself before I wallop you over the head. “Well, Mr. Perfect never gets hurt and now a knick in the side makes you think that you are dying.”

You held your breath, waiting for a response. Jokes in times of crisis could go either way. Robb’s laughter filled the room, and you felt a weight lift off of your shoulders. It definitely wasn’t as serious as you thought that it was if he was willing to laugh at it.

You caught a glimpse of Abigayle over Robb’s head, rolling a bandage and chuckling to herself. At least she was taking your humor in stride. More than a few people had reprimanded you for your particularly unladylike jokes in times of trouble. But they always made your family laugh, and making them laugh was more important to you than being ladylike anyday.

“But you are okay?” You asked in a hushed voice. As much as it hurt you to admit it, he had scared you.

Robb tried to hold back a reaction, but despite himself his mouth quirked to the side in the annoying almost smile that he had developed when the two of you were younger. But you had been though enough with him to notice when he was holding something back.

You hadn’t missed the look that the nurse maid had given the two of you before pointedly laying down her linens and slipping out of the door, taking Arya with her. Robb tried to sit up, holding back a grimace that if you didn’t know him any better, you wouldn’t have been able to notice.

You reached forward to grab him, to help him sit up. But, before you could, his hands came to cradle your face, bringing your forehead to rest against his. If it was any other time, you would have told him to shove off, but after all of the excitement of the last few days, you needed a moment.

A moment to be alone with him, to just breathe, and accept that everything was going to be okay.

“I’m sorry that I worried you.” Robb said, his voice quiet and timid, afraid to break the silence that had taken over the room.

“You should be, it’s my job to worry you.” You said, attempting to muster a laugh. It didn’t sound like a joke, though. Your voice was shaking just the slightest bit, trying to hide the emotion behind it.

“How could I forget? It is your job to fall off of a horse and then immediately walk directly into a wall. The same wall that has been in the same spot for hundreds of years, might I add.” He laughed, a real laugh this time. A laugh that made him throw his head back and made his stomach hurt just a bit, because he really, truly meant it. And after a few moments, you couldn’t help but join him.

“Well, I don’t want to interupt, but I’ve heard that Bran has maimed my eldest.” Catelyn said, letting herself in. You were about to stand, in order to let her have your place at Robb’s side, but she lazily motioned for you to sit down, taking a spot by the fire instead.

“It was really nothing, mother.” Robb said, looping his pinky with yours again. “Bran’s bow work obviously needs a bit more work, but I am going to be good as new.”

You held in a chuckle. Bran needing more bow work was the biggest understatement that you had heard in your life. He would get there eventually, but you knew that this wouldn’t be the last time that someone ended up in the infirmary before he learned to shoot a target. Maybe Arya could help him. She was wonderful with a bow, and even though she was less patient than the boys. Then again, that might be what Bran needed if he was ever going to hit a target. You made a mental note before returning your focus to the situation at hand.

“I’m sure that you will be, after all, it seems that you have an excellent nursemaid with you.” You didn’t miss her glancing down at your hands resting on the bed. You stuck your tongue out at her.

She didn’t reprimand you, knowing that it would only encourage you further.

“Abigayle is wonderful.” you said, eyes shifting to the door that the gray-haired woman had left through a few minutes ago.

Catelyn’s eyebrows arched the slightest bit, and Robb was chuckling to himself.

“I have a feeling that my mother wasn’t talking about Abigayle.” His pinky tightened around yours, not too tightly, but enough to make you understand what he was trying to say.

They were talking about you.

“Well, I haven’t done anything.” You insisted, unsure what they were trying to say.

“We both know that Arya is going to have to drag you out of this room before you leave his side.” Catelyn laughed, standing up from her chair. “Which is why I know that I can take my leave to help Sansa and the girls with their needlepoint.” Catelyn placed a kiss on the top of Robb’s head, and then yours. “I will see you later, my loves. She said, pausing for just a moment in the doorway, before making her way out of the room.

“I don’t see what the fuss is about.” You said, untangling your pinky from his before moving to get a strip of cloth to change Robb’s bandages. Abigayle had given him fresh ones a few hours ago, but with all of the moving around he was sure to need new ones. “I help everyone when they are hurt.”

The look on Robb’s face said that he wanted to say more, and you felt a wave of relief when it seemed that he was going to hold his tongue, for now at least.

You motioned for him to take off his shirt, allowing you a better look at the wound on his side. It was a shallow wound, but it ran the length of his ribcage, jagged and rough against his pale skin. Thankfully, it looked as if it would heal in a few days. Unfortunately, you were left to coddle Robb like a child until he was good as new.

He had a tendency to be clingy when he was hurt. You didn’t honestly know if it was because it truly made him feel better, or if he liked having an excuse to be around you, even more often than usual. Your head said that it was the first option, but it was getting harder as of late to ignore what your heart was saying.

Refocusing on the task at hand, you found that you had been right, and the bandages were nearly soaked through. You made quick work of them, not allowing your fingers to linger any more than was absolutely necessary.