i should just start a queue

Okay I would like to admit to let everyone know that this isn’t just my project. Given I started it but you guys are the ones who are helping out with it. So this is your project to.

I’m struggling a bit right now with what I want to do for everyone who cannot go to the You’re Welcome Tour. Some of you even know that and that being said I’m down for taking suggestions on what we should do. The only thing I’m truly trying to avoid is a video. There are lots of people who do videos and it just seems extremely over done. It’s a cute and sweet idea but I believe we could come up with something!

Once again thank you for everyone who is taking part in this

Also yes I made a tag because I’m really scared Ethan might find out about the project sooner than expected if I keep using the main tags.

Functional miniature crossbow! Made with a chopstick, metal wire and elastic thread.

Art by EoD, 24/8 2017

Keep reading

me: I love this new show so I should just not get into the fandom [opens tumblr] just like keep it to ~myself [follows 10+ blogs] so I can just enjoy it for a while [opens photoshop] like just let it be entertainment [queues up 100 gifsets] and not get sucked into the fandom black hole [opens 20th ao3 tab] just keep things simple you know [changes url and icon and sidebar, puts show on endless loop in background, liveblogs every new ep, starts 30 conversations] I’m gonna be smart this time around

Out of our two dancers, I feel like Rin’s probably the one that comes up with the meme worthy choreography that gets super popular when their MVs come out and basically anyone who’s anyone has seen the dance and done it and

Eli just has to stay strong

Look After You - Derek Hale x Reader

Request: Can I ask for a Derek Hale x Female Bestfriend Reader based on The Fray’s Look After You? Something like the reader being the type of girl who takes care of everyone around her but herself. Then in a misunderstanding, Lydia tells her that the pack actually doesn’t need her. So she walks out but Derek goes after her and comforts her. Angsty with a fluffy ending please. Thanks so much!

Pairing: Derek Hale x Female Reader

Derek Hale Masterlist

Derek gently shook (y/n)’s shoulder, she was fast asleep, her head resting on his rarely used table with work spread around her. He hated seeing his best friend like this, she exhausted herself by looking after the pack and never seemed to have any energy to take care of herself.

Throughout the evening, she’d helped Stiles study for the FBI entrance exam, cooked for Liam, listened to Lydia rave about her chosen university and had willingly taste tested Malia’s first attempts at baking. She did all of it with a smile on her face and genuine interest. Derek briefly thought that she would make a great mum one day as he continued to try and rouse her.

“Sweetheart, wake up” Her head shot up, nearly coming into contact with Derek’s before he jumped away.

“Oh god, did I fall asleep again?” She groaned, thumping her head against the table. A sympathetic smile pulled at Derek’s mouth as his eyes warmed with affection.

“C’mon, I’ll take you home” (Y/n) shook her head frantically, gathering her work in front of her and picking up a pen.

“No, no, I’m fine. I need to finish this or my professor will kill me. I’m already on my second extension. If I go home, I’ll fall asleep” She caught her hand in his, smiling at him sleepily. “Thank you though”

Derek squeezed her hand, sighing heavily as he fell into the chair next to her. “(Y/n/n), this isn’t healthy. You need sleep”

She brushed him off, mumbling about how every college student was sleep deprived. As she stared at the work in front of her, she continually rubbed her eyes, struggling to focus on the words she’d already written.

“Not every college student is also dealing with supernatural beings” His tone was just this side of pleading as he tried to get his best friend to listen to him.

(Y/n) looked up at him quickly, a smile on her face. “Guess that makes me special then”

Derek sat back in his chair, exasperated as he watched her chew her lip as she searched for the right words to eloquently make her point. “Have you even eaten today?”

Her brow furrowed before she shook her head absentmindedly, her eyes never leaving the page. Derek threw his hands up in the air, but his exasperation when unnoticed as she continued to work away. After realising he wasn’t going to be able to get her to rest, he made his way into the kitchen, searching for something he could cook quickly.

Half an hour later, he returned from the kitchen, a bowl of steaming pasta in his hand. He set it on the table slightly harder than necessary, making (y/n) wince as she thanked him sheepishly. Just as she was about to take a bite, Issac’s desperate shouts echoed through the loft. Derek barely had time to register what was happening before her fork fell onto the table and she was running up the stairs. He gave them a couple of minutes alone, knowing how forlorn Issac got after nightmares and that (y/n) was the only one he would let see him like that.

Making some hot chocolate, Derek waited another couple of minutes before carrying the mugs upstairs. With three mugs in his hands, he struggled to knock on the door, tapping it with his foot instead. Issac’s voice cracked as he told Derek to come in. He was pressed into (y/n)’s side, clutching onto her like a lifeline. She shot him a worried look before happily accepting the mug Derek offered her. Hushing Issac’s whimpers, she pulled him closer, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Not knowing what to do, Derek patted Issac’s shoulder before leaving the two of them in peace.

By the time (y/n) came back downstairs, the pasta was cold and the sauce had congealed. Shying away from Derek’s unimpressed glare, she sat down heavily, the weight of her bones seeming to have doubled as she fought to keep her eyes open. (Y/n) blinked at her work, trying to find some hidden reserve of energy so she could finish it. Coming up with nothing, she rolled her shoulders and prepared to power write a paper that was due two weeks ago as she thanked whoever was listening that it didn’t count towards her final grade.

Derek was shocked out of his day dream when (y/n) let out a triumphant squeal. He watched in amusement as she did a little happy dance from where she sat across from him. “It’s finished. It’s finally finished”

She sat back in her chair, a happy laugh tumbling from her lips before she remembered that everyone else was asleep. Stretching, she stood up on shaky legs. Derek copied her movements, catching her wrist as she started to walk towards the door after collecting her work. Warmth spread through his chest when she titled her head to the side.

“Stay here, (y/n/n)” She shook her head before a loud yawn escaped her mouth. Derek’s eyebrows rose as he stared her down. After a brief staring contest, she set her work on the table and fell into his arms.

“Okay” Her words were muffled against his shirt as she snuggled into his warmth. Taken by surprise, she yelped when Derek lifted her into his arms and carried her to his bed. She fell back against the mattress, perfectly content to fall asleep right away when Derek started to tug her shoes off.

“Let me sleep” He shook his head, snickering softly. It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep, her face pressed against his pillow as her breathing evened out. Derek made sure she was soundly off to sleep before settling onto the sofa and preparing for an uncomfortable night’s sleep.

Weeks passed as (y/n) continued to exhaust herself as she switched between college work and looking after the pack. A new supernatural creature was terrorising Beacon Hills which only exasperated the situation.

(Y/n) stood outside of the cinema, excited to see Lydia away from the drama of the pack and to relax. Just as she joined the queue, her phone started to ring as Lydia’s name flashed on the screen.

“Hi Lyds, I’m about to get the tickets” Her stomach dropped when she heard Lydia let out a heavy sigh.

“I can’t make it (y/n/n), I’m sorry”

“What? How come?” There was a long pause as Lydia debated whether or not to tell her.

“We’ve set a trap for the witch, if all goes well, we should have her in about an hour” (Y/n) shifted on her feet, hurt running through her veins as she realised she hadn’t even known they were going to trap the witch.

“Right, okay. Where do you want me to meet you?”

“You don’t have to come (y/n). We’ve got this, go enjoy the film” Lydia rushed out a goodbye, leaving (y/n) standing in the queue feeling slightly bewildered as her heart sank. She trudged out of the cinema, no longer wanting to see the film. Despite being human, she’d always felt like a valid member of the pack, helping in ways that didn’t require supernatural powers. But now, all of that felt trivial as she dejectedly made her way back to her apartment.

It’d been a little over a week since anyone in the pack had seen (y/n), she brushed off their concerns by saying a big project had come up and that she was working around the clock. They were all lost without her, not realising how much she helped them until she was gone. Derek grew concerned, (y/n) had never let work stop her from seeing the pack before.

After everyone had gone home one evening, he headed over to her apartment, nerves running through his body as he thought of what could have driven her away. Knocking on the door, he straightened his jacket and waited impatiently. A surprised smile graced (y/n)’s face when she opened the door.

“Hi, what’re you doing here?”

“It’s nice to see you too” She rolled her eyes, stepping back to let him inside. As he shrugged off his jacket, his eyes searched the apartment, looking for any sign of sickness or piles of work that would have stopped her from seeing the pack. “Where have you been?”

She frowned at him in confusion as she flopped onto the sofa. “Here…why?”

“You haven’t seen us in a week” (Y/n) looked away from him, pulling a loose thread from the sleeve of her jumper.

“I told you, I’ve been working” Cautiously, he sat next to her, trying to catch her eye.

“It’s never stopped you before” Her shoulders stiffened as she bit her lip.

“Why does it matter Derek?” He resisted the urge to pull her into his side, hating the disheartened tone of her words.

“Because I’m worried about you and we need you” A scoff escaped her lips as glared at the floor.

“Doesn’t seem like it” Derek stood up, opting to kneel by her feet instead, his hands resting on her knees.

“Of course we need you (y/n), everyone is desperate to see you” His heart ripped in two when a single tear tracked down her cheek.

“Why? It’s not like I actually do anything. I’m just human” Her voice cracked as the lump in her throat seemed to suffocate her. Derek wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest as her breathing wavered.

“Sweetheart, you’re so much more than that. You do everything you can for the pack, you keep us together. We’re lost without you” He drew back slightly, gently turning her head towards him. “I’m lost without you”

As she started to shake her head, Derek did the only thing that felt right. He pressed his lips against hers, he’d never been very good with words, deciding to show her instead. Shock ran through him when she started to kiss him back with just as much urgency and desperation. Part of him had expected her to push him away in disgust, they’d been best friends for years and had never once been anything other than platonic. But now, as their lips brushed against one another as they moved together, it felt right. A moan escaped his lips when she weaved her fingers through his short hair, tugging softly. Their breath mingled when they pulled apart, foreheads resting together.  

“It took not seeing me for a week for you to do that?” An embarrassed laugh rumbled in his chest, their lips brushing.

“M’sorry. I’ve wanted to for so long. But something always came up and then you were so busy taking care of everyone else that there was never time for us” Guilt washed over her face, making her pull away. He chased after her, catching her hands in his.

“I didn’t mean it like that, I swear. I’ve never seen a human bond so closely with a pack before, what you do is incredible and it amazes me every day” (Y/n)’s expression softened as she pressed their lips back together.

That evening, she let Derek take care of her, sitting on the counter as he prepared their dinner. Laughter filled her small apartment as she savoured having time alone with her best friend and now boyfriend. It took hours for them to get through their meal as they caught one another up on everything that had been happening in their lives. After Derek did the dishes, they cuddled on the sofa as (y/n) let her work wait until morning and they watched the shows she’d been too busy to catch up on. She didn’t remember going to bed, embarrassment flushing her cheeks when she realised she must have fallen asleep on the sofa, but her smile had never been as wide as when she woke up cuddled into Derek’s side as he pressed kisses down her neck.

Taking care of a pack was exhausting but she knew it would all work out if she had Derek by her side, looking after her.

Dylan request #1

Request: Dylan request — you moved to Littleton when you were in 4th grade, then Eric moved in a little bit later. The 3 of you grew up as best friends. While you and Eric had a small middle school past (that didn’t last long as you both realized you’re better off as best friends) you did develop a crush on Dylan in high school. You don’t know it but Dylan likes you too. It’s senior year, and Eric has realized what’s going on ages ago. You’re at a party, 7 mins in heaven is the game - go from there :)            

((im so sorry this took me so long!! I’ve been working so hard on this. I hope you enjoy!!))

“Hey, Reb, pass the lighter.” I fumble with the cigarette hanging off my upper lip. Eric threw a red lighter to me. I lit my cigarette and inhaled, staring off blankly in the distance before handing it back.

Eric had been my best friend ever since seventh grade, even though we had a little fling in middle school. We made out one time, behind the shed where they kept all of the P.E equipment. All of those raging 13 year old hormones were pumping and we smooched. I expected it to be magical, like in the movies, but no. It was wet, sloppy, his tongue was like a dagger stabbing in the back of my throat, it was wayyy too toothy, and he left half of my face covered in spit. Needless to say, we decided to go back to being best friends a few days later and agreed to never speak of the event again.

“Yo, y/n.” Eric calls, taking a puff off his cigarette.
“Sup.” I looked up at him from where I was sitting.
“You coming to that party tonight?” He leaned against the fence stood behind us.
“Probably not,” I shake my head. “Everyone that goes to those stupid parties makes me want to kill myself.” I said with a harshness in my voice. I meant it, I really did hate the people that went to our school.
“Okay, listen,” he paused to take another drag of his cigarette, “I hate those fuckers just as much as you, if I had the chance to blow their fucking heads off I would in a heart beat. But this really hot girl invited me and-”
“absolutely not.” I cut him off. “I am not going to be your wing woman at some fucking party.”
“When have I ever been invited to a party by a hot chick before?”
“Never.” I sigh, a slight bit of guilt in my voice.
”Exactly. Fuckin never. Just do me this solid.”
I didnt want to, I really didn’t, but Eric was my best friend. I exhale sharply, “Fine.” The way his face had lit up made it all worth it.

Me, Eric and Dylan had all grown up together. I moved to Littleton, Colorado when I had just turned 9. I met Dylan on the first day of 4th grade in school. I was late for school due to my stubborn Mom who insisted she knew a quick route to the school, despite having lived in the town less than a two weeks. By the time I reached my classroom, I knew that all of the seats would have been taken and I was frantically searching for a place to sit. The class teacher was nice, she spoke sweetly to me and asked my name. I saw one kid gesturing for me to sit next to him. It just so happened that the boy who offered me a seat was Dylan. We instantly hit it off. When you’re 9 and 10 you don’t care who your best friend is or whether you have common interests, but me and Dylan did. After school every day, we would rush home as quickly as our legs would take us so we were home in time to watch our favorite cartoons. My Mom would always have baked goods ready for us as soon as we got home for me and him to binge on. He was like an addition to our family. Dylan struggled a lot when middle school came around, as he was excruciatingly shy and quiet. We got picked on a lot for being weird and quiet. We were outcasts to everyone else. We sat by ourselves for the first year, neither of us having many friends other than each other and Nate. Over the years there, Dylan was my security blanket. He would make me feel better about all the horrible things girls said to me. We boosted each others confidence a lot. We met Eric in seventh grade, and became pretty close rather quickly. We would all hang out every night and play video games.

Me and Eric were standing by our lockers when Dylan approached us.
“Hey, V, guess what.” Eric said through a toothy grin.
“You got invited to a party by a hot girl.” Dylan replied with a slight bit of annoyance in his voice.
Eric’s grin quickly vanished, “Yes. How’d you know?!”
“You’ve told me at least six times, dude. I’m still not going.” Dylan hissed back.
“C’mon, dude, y/n is coming.” Eric nudged Dylan.
Dylan looked towards me in confusion because he knew I hated parties, “I’m being forced too, V.” I shook my head.
Dylan laughed under his breath a little bit, “Nah, dude, I’m not-”
“I swear to God, Dylan. I know where you live and I know how to make pipe bombs.” Eric said in an almost threatening tone but it still had a slight playfulness to it.
“Fuck, fine I go. Don’t blow up my house, Jesus.” Dylan let out a barely audible laugh under his breath and smiled towards us.
“Fuck yeah, V, cya tonight.” Eric smirked like a kid who had just won first place in a race.
Dylan walked off to whatever class he had next, leaving me and Eric alone. I lean against the lockers, throwing my head back and let out an audible groan, “Why is he sooooo cute.” I whimper out.
“This whole ‘crush on Dylan’ thing needs to stop.” Eric sighed.
“Yeah…” I suspire heavily whilst I followed Eric to our next class, “I know.”
“You know what I hate?” I prepared myself for one of Eric’s long-ass speeches about bitches standing in the middle of a corridor or something but the words that escaped his lips were actually quite wise. “When girls wait for the guy to ask them out. Like, Dylan’s a shy guy, he can hardly look at a girl without cumming in his pants. What makes you think he’s going to get the balls to ask you out? Like, I know we’re just friends ‘n’ shit but fuck, y/n, you’re pretty fucking attractive.”
“That was over in middle school, Reb.” I joke.
“Shut the fuck up and listen for a second,” He pauses while he thought of something to say, “What I’d do in this situation is 1 of 3 things. 1,blow their fucking head off, if you can’t have them then no one can. 2, get the fuck over them, no time for moping over some pussy you’re never going to get. Or 3, get over self, walk your ass over to them and tell them you fucking like them. Like a bitch can’t blame you for trying, right?” 

So many questions ran through my head after he said that. Should I really just get over Dylan? How? Why? Should I tell him how I feel? Should I blow his fucking brains out? I know i was thinking irrationally but I really cared about Dylan. Ever since my first year at Columbine High School I had feelings for him. I don’t know when the feelings began but after it had a been like a roller coaster. That’s the perfect simile actually. It was like a roller coaster. When I first started getting feelings for him it was like being in the queue, thinking what the hell am I doing? This is bat shit crazy! Who’s idea was this?! This isn’t safe at all!  And then when I realized my feelings for him was like sitting in the seat, waiting for the safety barriers to come down. Just wanting to jump off and scream ‘I WANT TO GET OFF!’ but then it was too late. The ride started and I couldn’t get off. Every time I would see him was a big, steep drop shooting down; every time I heard his voice it was like going around a big loop; every time he touched me there was a big twist. I wanted him so badly, I just didn’t know what to do. I loved the roller coaster but it terrified me at the same time. Whenever I thought I had it under control, there would be another drop, loop or turn thrown my way. I couldn’t believe something Eric fucking Harris said made me have this epiphany.
Me and Eric arrived at the house where the party was being hosted. Eric pulled out a cigarette. Needless to say he was shitting himself. None of us had ever been to a proper party before. A party to Eric was 4 of us sitting playing Doom with a bottle of some sort of alcohol but now we were at an actual party. It was filled with at least 50 people.

Eric smoked slowly trying to avoid the huge groups of people within the house. We could feel the vibrations of loud music shake the nearby ground outside. We were nervous, although Eric didn’t want to admit it.
“S-should we just go in?” His voice cracked.
“I guess so…”

I felt like holding his hand as if he had to be guided in by a parent or guardian; my nerves made me want to grab his hand even more. Eric stamped out his cigarette and we etch close to the house.

The scent of cheap beer and the loss of virginity filled my nose, making me cringe. Eric’s eyes scanned the room, most likely looking for the ‘hot’ girl who invited him.
“Maybe we should look around?” I suggested while looking at his scared, little face, which I found adorable.
“Yeah.” his breath rasped in his throat, it sounded as if he just dry-swallowed a big pill.

We didn’t really search, him and I just kind of hid away from the big crowds of people making us feel uncomfortable. Eric had never been good with the ladies, I don’t know how he ever got me in middle school.

We hadn’t really followed a pacific path, we just went where we went and followed one another. I eventually found a drink in my hand and after a few I was beginning to feel a little tipsy. We slipped down some stairs into a room where the party continued, but in much smaller numbers. I, fortunately, glance in a corner where I saw a few familiar lanky figures. I felt relieved to see some people I actually knew in this house, other than Eric. I staggered over to the group of boys. Dylan had his cute little smile on his face as I approached.
“Sup, V.” I beamed at him, wrapping my arm around his neck.
“H-Have you been drinking?” He sounded a little nervous, probably because I was cuddling him.
“Just a little,” I giggle, “ Why? Do I smell like alcohol?”
“No, just…” His sentence trailed off, not really knowing what he wanted to say.
“I think you,” Eric pulled me off Dylan, keeping me balanced, “need to sit the fuck down.”
“Yeah.” Dylan laughed, searching for a place for the group to sit.
We sat for a while, just cracking jokes and laughing, and before we knew it a bottle of Jack Daniels had come and gone. .
Eric shook the empty glass bottle in the air, “Truth or dare, anyone?” He asks the group.
We each nod out head and Eric spins the bottle.

After a few rounds, it landed on me.
“Truth or dare?” Eric grinned.
I think for a moment, “uhh, dare.”
A smirk grew on his face “Seven minutes in heaven,”
“Eric,” I sigh, “I love you ‘n’ everything, but you’re my best friend.” I place my hand upon his shoulder, “this isn’t middle school anymore and I-”
He swiftly interpreted me, his smirk growing wider and keeping eye contact with me, “with Dylan.”
My face was wiped of all expression, I wanted to knock the look of his smug-ass face look of his face so badly. I pause, trying to comprehend what he had just done. “uhum, what?”
“You heard.” He folded his arms, his eyes flicking from me to Dylan.
“Reb, dude I-” Dylan stuttered nervously.
“A, a, a, it’s a dare. You have to do it.” Eric replied, folding his arms.
“Stop being so childish, Reb.” I slur and rolled my eyes.
“I’m not being childish, you’re just being a pussy.” He sneered.
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
“Am not
.” “Are too.”
“Fuck sake, Reb.” At the time I didn’t know whether to punch him or thank him. Then I realised, I was drunk enough to do it without everything being awkward at school if Dylan didn’t like me but if Dylan was into it then I could say I was sober enough to be into it too. Fuck I loved Eric.

“It’s funny,” He snickered, “you’re such a prude, y/n, I knew you wouldn’t do it.”
“Y'know what, fine.” I pulled myself up, “come one, Dyl, let’s go find a closet.” Eric looked genuinely shocked, as did Dylan.

Dylan didn’t have time to comply or protest, before what I had said sunk into his brain I had dragged him up and was already trying to find a free closet. It was more difficult than I originally thought to find an unoccupied closet. Eventually, we did find one, I shoved Dylan and quickly locked the door behind us.
“Sorry ‘bout that, Dylan,” I leaned against the door, “I just wanted to prove Eric wrong.”
“Ah, it’s fine.” He said, sounding slightly disappointed.
“W-Well it’s not that I don’t want, Just I…” I looked down at my shuffling feat, I felt nervous, not too sure what to do.

There was a few moments of silence, during this silence I found myself sliding my back down the door, sitting upon the floor. Dylan eventually joined me. He leaned his head against the door and spoke softly:
“Remember in 5th grade when I had a crush on that Amanda girl?”
“Yeah, what about her?”
“Remember when I spilled apple juice on my pants right in front of her.”
I giggle at the fond childhood memories, “Yeah, you were so sad.”
“Yeah, I know. I think that’s where my fear of walking to women came from,” He ran a hand through his hair, “ That’s why I’ve never been able to confess my feelings for this girl that I’ve liked for a while.”
“Oh,” I look at the ground, fiddling with my hair, “that’s shitty.”
“Yeah. You know,” he took a deep breath, “I used to think you could never get over childhood fears, the little anxieties that would keep you up at night as a kid. Everything seemed so big and important then. Even the smallest thing felt like it would change everything, but it didn’t and it never did. I don’t know anymore. You can’t run away from your fears forever, right?”
“Right.” I nod, turning my head so I was looking at the side of his face.
“I think I’m ready to overcome a really big fear I’ve had for a long time.” Dylan interlocked his fingers around mine, causing me to blush, “I really like you, y/n.” He spoke gently, the words left his mouth softly and soothed my body.
“I really like y-you too, Dylan.” The roller coaster feeling felt really real at that moment. It was exciting, I was loving the twists and turns, even though they made it feel like my heart was going to pound out of my chest.

I leaned in and stroked his cheek softly, which turned his face towards mine. Dylan’s lips brushed against mine, it felt so innocent and so sweet. His lips were like silk that ran across mine. Dylan’s hands caressed my cheek. His movements weren’t lustful, they were kind and I could feel the good intentions in each of his touches. My heart fluttered as he whispered my name into the kiss, he prolonged each syllable which caused me to shudder. My fingers ran through his dirty blonde locks and stroked his soft curls. I pulled him as close as I could, until there was no space between us. Dylan could feel the pounding of my heart in my chest but I didn’t care, I wanted the kiss to last forever. His hand being placed ever so carefully on my cheek, just below my ear, comforted me. He moved one hand to my waist, causing my breath to sharpened. It became heavier, deeper, and more heated. The kiss was becoming more passionate and was rapidly losing it’s innocents.
“Yo, faggots.” A voice, presumably Eric’s, yelled from behind the door of the closet.
“7 minutes already?” He giggled and placed a sweet kiss on my forehead.

Honestly folks, I don’t know what to do with you all.

I took two days away from the blog for some space, and come back to 50 new questions in my inbox wanting a response.

I cannot keep up with that pace. I can answer maybe 40 a week if I’m doing well. I can’t handle 50 new questions in two days. I cannot type and think that fast.

So I have a few courses of action I can consider.

  • Close the inbox. I don’t want to do this, especially because I’ve historically had distressed anons come on asking for help. 
  • Delete asks that wont lead to interesting discussion, or are things that should be asked with your own vet.
  • Allow my inbox to endlessly spiral out of control until I can’t even see the oldest messages anymore and allow the Sisyphean task to consume me.

I’m really, really sorry folks, but I think I have to start deleting some asks. There are just so many, I could sit here answering asks full time and I would still not get them all done. I have just been writing more and more, making the queue longer and longer, in an attempt to get the inbox numbers down so that I feel like the job is done and I can rest, but this never happens. It’s never done.

So I apologize, but I need the breathing room. Some of you wont get questions answered, and I’m not going to keep track of what and why. I need time and brain space for other things.

I want to keep blogging for the rest of my life, but it needs to be manageable and not stressful for me to do that.

Shut Up: The Power of Understanding what Introversion Actually is in a World of People Who Won’t Stop Using it as an Excuse

Since I’ve started tagging some posts as “shitty introverts” I decided to make this post to serve as a reference without being quite as sarcastic and salty as I have been, though I’m pretty sure I’ve already failed with that title. Will I change any minds? It’s doubtful, but if you ever want to know why I’m tearing into that introvertunites/introvert, dear post, you can look at this.

First, a brief definition of introversion in two different systems.

In MBTI: Introverts are people who have a dominant introverted function. Extroverts are people who have a dominant extroverted function. Ambiversion does not exist in the MBTI system - more on that later.

Outside of MBTI: Introverts are people who are energized more by time alone than by time spent with others. Extroverts are people who are energized more by time spent with other people than by time spent alone. Ambiverts are people who fall close to the middle.

In reality, everyone is somewhere along a spectrum (ie, we all need some alone time and some time with people), so arguably we’re all ambiverts, but it’s commonly used for people who find themselves needing a pretty even balance of the two. 

Now, ambiversion still doesn’t exist within the MBTI system. If you want to call yourself an ANFP* or whatever, then you are making things up and that is not an MBTI type - it is a personal adaptation that uses some concepts from MBTI. Does this mean that MBTI doesn’t acknowledge that some people are non-MBTI ambiverts? No! It just means that MBTI theory uses the introvert and extrovert terms in a particular way, and doesn’t fully explain what social situations energize you, just like it doesn’t explain fully your favorite ice cream flavor or whether you like sports. It’s perfectly fine to say “I’m an ENFP, and I’m pretty ambiverted.”

Okay now that that’s out of the way, what does introversion, outside of MBTI, not mean?

It does not necessarily mean shyness, awkwardness, or lack of social skills. There’s probably a correlation, because people who prefer to spend most of their time alone have less of a vested interest in getting over shyness, awkwardness, or developing social skills, but there are awkward extroverts and socially adept introverts everywhere.

It does not mean misanthropy/hating people in general. I personally think hating people is not a particularly great way to be, as it means you’re closing yourself off to a whole lot of great experiences, and it definitely is going to be more common in introverts as it makes extroversion really hard, but if that’s your deal, fine. Just know that it’s not at all synonymous with introversion. Introversion means needing a good deal of alone time. It doesn’t mean that you hate the time spent with others, just that it’s going to require more energy.

It does not automatically make you smarter, kinder, more creative, or ‘deeper.’ Whatever psych studies may say, they’re going to be based on a subset, so even if introverts are, on average, smarter, it doesn’t mean you, arbitrary introvert, are smarter than an individual arbitrary extrovert. Another way to put it: more Americans have Olympic gold medals than Jamaicans, but I don’t have more gold medals than Usain Bolt. Use your alleged intelligence to learn and understand basic statistics.

Introversion, or for that matter shyness, awkwardness, or whatever do not excuse rudeness or flakiness, and nothing excuses expecting people to understand you without any explanation.

Look. I get that if you’re depressed, or have social anxiety**, you may say yes to a party invite only to find that when the party actually comes, you can’t bring yourself to make it or even to call. That’s okay. But it’s also okay for the host to be upset that you didn’t show up or let them know that you couldn’t come, and it falls to you, when you are up to the task, to explain why.

Is that hard as fuck to do? Yes. Is expecting other people to read your mind and know all the details of your life and mental health and accept all of your actions completely unfair to them? Also yes. Because here’s the thing: you can’t control other people’s reactions, and it’s ridiculous  to think you can.

Which brings us to the shitty introvert. The shitty introvert does the following:

Assumes they are in some way better than extroverts - smarter, more creative, better listeners - and may believe that because they let so few people into their lives, including someone is an honor in itself.

Assumes that having emotional responses is unique to them - that no one else dislikes public humiliation or unpleasant surprises.

Either complains that they’re getting dragged to parties, or complains that they’re no longer getting invitations to the parties that they repeatedly turned down, as if the host has nothing better to do than send you an invite they know you’ll refuse***.

Is rude to others and blames it on being introverted instead of considering that other people also have feelings and either putting in enough effort to maintain civility, or apologizing and taking full responsibility of their actions.

Expects to be understood and accommodated automatically without any explanation, and generally does not put in effort to understand or accommodate others.

Sees introversion as an excuse to never try to improve or challenge themselves. If something is hard for them, they will just give up or avoid it.

In summary, they insist they are more considerate, feeling, and creative while being rude, selfish, and stagnant.

Don’t be a shitty introvert.

*For some reason the example fake MBTI type with Ambiverted is always ANFP. I suspect it’s because Ne both is associated with being towards the middle of the itnrovert/extrovert spectrum and with being like “what if we didn’t follow the rules,” and Fi is associated with “your labels cannot contain me” but that is another post for another day.

**Social anxiety and depression are mental illnesses, and I’m not going to go into them or other mental health issues in this post in more depth, but please note that they are not tied to introversion. Will they often make people withdraw from social situations? Yes. That is a symptom of the illness, not an indicator of extroversion or introversion.

***”I want to be invited, I just don’t want to go!” shitty introverts cry, as if the hosts of the parties are not also human beings with needs and emotions. “Oh, yeah, sorry” the hosts are apparently supposed to tell the person they actually want to invite who would show up and bring a decent bottle of wine, “I’d love to invite you but I have a tiny apartment, so I can’t invite any more than 15 people, and I need to reserve a spot for my friend who not RSVP, ignore my calls, and will most likely either text me with some lame excuse an hour after the party started, or just completely flake. But you see their desires are more important than yours or mine.” Honestly what the host should do is just queue up a few automated invites to nonexistent parties, and on the off chance the shitty introvert does indeed show up without RSVP-ing to one of them, the host should just be like “Oh sorry, I know I said I’d have a party but I’m just not feeling it tonight.” GOLDEN RULE IN ACTION MOTHERFUCKERS.

anonymous asked:

I'm so sick of people whining that I don't bring Esuan to Exdeath. It's very easy to forget and often times when I do remember to bring it to the only end game in which you actually need it, the tank rushes in. I always bring protect because it's useful and necessary. Esuna usually just wastes a role action. /sigh

If both healers in Exdeath forget Esuna, that’s two automatic avoidable deaths in phase 1 and those two team members could be both your tanks or both of you. In top of that you can’t rely on the Bard or having a Bard to esuna it for you. Neither can you rely on the party having RDMs/SMNs to raise you or help you raise. It’s actually common sense to have half a mind to swap to Esuna before you even queue up for v4 because you know there’s literally an Esunable Doom not 45 seconds into the start of the fight.

If you have trouble remembering to swap to anything when you’re already in the duty, get in the habit of swapping before you queue. If it’s a new duty you haven’t done before, you should have an automatic set up of Protect, Esuna, Lucid Dreaming, Swift Cast with one free slot to be anything you want. I call this the “just-in-case” set up. It’s better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it.

Don’t get mad at people for getting rightfully mad at you for being the cause of two unavoidable yet preventable deaths. You need to think before you queue. You know the fight.

– Mod Mhi

anonymous asked:

Should we put in the asks if we have drawn something

If you don’t see your art under the #chara’s bday tag on our blog, send in a submission with a link to your post or message me, @mod-ellipsis! I search primarily in the #chara’s bday tag, but I do try to keep an eye out on the caretaker tags. (Once I checked the @ mentions, I realized I missed out on a lot! Many new posts are in the queue, which will start up again tomorrow morning!)

Just an FYI to everyone who is worried that they are too late, please do not fret! Birthday fanart and fanfics for Chara will still be reblogged tomorrow and Monday! (And if you still need more time, that’s fine!)


I was rewatching this episode and after Gintoki says put some boost in it for season 2, they make some really specific suggestions.

Of course I thought of this right away:

“The Final Chapter: Be Forever Yorozuya”

So then there’s this last one and it seems like good foreshadowing to me:

I’d love to see Gintama end where it’s the Yorozuya, the Shinsengumi have returned, everything is as it should be, and they’re all happy.


Aww, that’s so cute. (Theron, you should probably watch out for that rock, pretty sure Teff'ith is planning on chunking it at your head).

Gee, that Matukai technique sounds interesting! Let me go look it up on Wookieepedia!

But then why do you…?

…damn it, Theron.

Lost Lothlorien Princess - Part 1 - High School

Originally posted by every0ne-dies-alone

Warnings: verbal abuse, bullying, finding out your adopted.

Pairings: LOTR X Reader

(A/N) So this is one of the first Lord of the rings Fanfics i ever wrote. i hope you guys like it :D 


I’ve always felt like I didn’t belong. My parents always fought constantly about everything and I was always in the middle of their quarrels. As I grew from a child to a teenager I would always find solace from the turmoil in books of every kind. My favorite books always consisted of knights, elves, princes, and princesses. As I read these books it was as if my mind was always removed from its vessel and transported to these magical worlds it created.

My school life wasn’t much better than my home life. For some weird reason I had been born with pointy ears, and the other kids at school avoided me and mocked me for my ears. They would always come up behind me and jerk on my ears making hateful comments and then run off laughing. It was worse when I was a kid, but as I grew they had started to avoid me saying I was unnaturally tall and beautiful; it was also strange that when they hurt me I would always heal quicker than a normal person.

Today was just like any other day as I sat at my usual lunch table alone reading my favorite book “The Lord of the Rings” but this time as I read through it; it was as if the pictures in my head were coming alive around me. I could see the elves traveling through the woods as if I was standing next to Frodo and Sam myself.

All of the sudden the school cafeteria vanishes from around me making me jump from my seat in shock leaving nothing but a vivid wasteland of ash, rock, and molten rock. “What the?” I say as I start to instantly feel the feel of heat and the eye of something gaze upon me. I turn around to see as if I was standing there in front of his tower the eye of Sauron peering down at me. My eyes widen in fear as I fear his voice inside my head, “I found you, lost child of Middle Earth.”

Before I had a chance to reply I feel something shove me to the floor and I quickly blink my eyes to see that I am once again in my cafeteria. I look around at all the people staring at me as I look back to see who had knocked me over. I Notice right away the Abercrombie and Fitch blue blouse as that of the head cheerleader Susan Evans and let out an annoyed sigh as I push myself up off the ground. “Freaks should watch out where they are having their crazy episodes.” She says as she flips her long blonde hair and then turning away walks off laughing. I roll my eyes as I walk back over to my table and grabbing my books and backpack head toward the office.

I ignore all the judgmental looks and cheesy remarks as I quickly make my way through the hallway to the office where I see the receptionist on the phone. Taking a deep breath I sneak past her and make a break for the front door. When I am safely outside I take a deep breath of the freshly mowed grass and instantly feel my body relax. I feel tears start to sting the corners of my eyes but I quickly shake my head knocking all the bad feelings out of my head and then I start the long road home.

This wasn’t the first time I had left school and it seemed like neither the teachers nor my parents cared. For some reason the thirty minute drive seemed like such a short walk. It never took me too long to make it through the woods and fields until I made it to my sanctuary. My sanctuary consisted of a grassy meadow filled with wildflowers, a clear spring fed stream flowed right through the center, a few shade trees, and all the wildlife you could think of.

I walk up to the stream and tossing my backpack down on its edge throw myself down and let the tears leave my eyes. All I had ever wanted was a place to feel normal and loved but I was just wishful thinking, a place like that could never exist for a freak like me. I sat there for what seemed like hours when I finally felt the tears dry out. I look around to see that the sun had started to set in the sky and quickly grabbing my bag hurry to my house.

As if right on queue I walk through the door to my parents screaming at each other but this time something felt different. “You should have just left her in that ditch where you found her!” I heard my father yell at my mother and my heart sinks. “Are they talking about me?” I think to myself as I silently peek around the corner to hear more of their conversation.

“What did you expect me to do I could just leave a baby no matter what it looked like.” My heart drops as I hear the next words uttered, “Ever since we took that freak into our home everyone looks at us differently they mock us and call us names and I can’t keep a job because of that thing!” I reach up and covering my mouth backing up I end up knocking over a lamp and I instantly see my mother’s face peek around the corner and as her gaze finds me her eyes widen in panic. “_____?” Before she has a chance to say another word I turn and run as fast as I can leaving everything I knew behind.

Before I realize how far I had gone I look around to see that I no longer recognize anything around me. “Elvish Princess I have found you,” I hear that same voice from earlier say and I turn to see Sauron’s flaming eye peering deep into my soul. I suddenly feel fear and anguish overcome me making me fall backwards only instead of hitting the ground my body just keeps falling. I look around to no longer see a ground beneath me but a void of empty space. I let out a blood curdling scream and closing my eyes grab my arms and hold my body tight, silently praying for something or someone to save me. Then as if someone heard my prayer I feel a hand touch my face and I open my eyes to see an older man with a long grey beard his blue orbs gazing down into my (E/C) eyes.

My fears and worry melt away as he says, “My dear ______, it’s about time you find your way home; back to Lothlorien.” 

“Lothlorien?” I say as I suddenly feel the softness of grass beneath my body. “Who are you?” I ask as I feel my strength start to leave me. 

“My name dear princess is Gandalf, Gandalf the Grey.” Before I could even react I black out. My world goes dark but I still feel the presence of the mysterious old man who claimed to have the same name as Middle Earth’s Wizard.

Will Continue In - Rivendell 

Hey, I don’t mind when people ask me to check out their blog/writing…unless there’s no sign that they’ve read any of mine. And don’t come to me and tell me you love my stuff when my activity feed says otherwise. I would think this should be common courtesy and common sense at this point. I know how hard it is to start getting your stuff out there, but some of the people who do this get as many (or way more) notes as I do on posts. Just don’t expect me to shower your blog with love if you can’t be bothered to send so much as a heart my way.

semi-hiatus from 19/03

so starting from sunday i’ll be working on a film! i’m super excited, but the hours are pretty crazy with 6 day weeks and its a location shoot which means a new place pretty much every day which can get p taxing 

it’s the first film i’ve done in a while so it’ll take me a little while to adjust to everything again! i’m going to be relying on my queue a lot since most days i’ll just get home from work and collapse into bed (ready to wake up at 5am again omfg). i should be able to slip on at work occasionally but i’ll be even more slower at my replies so please bear with me! basically, this is my long ass way of giving you guys a heads up my activity is gonna get funny but ily all 

(if you could like/reply to this if i could start building up my queue from you i would love your forever!)

Gadge Day Reflections: My Journey with Gadge

This might be a bit of a rambling mess (I’m running on so much anxiety and so little sleep), but here goes:

I’m the kind of girl who sees romantic ships everywhere - the stray word, the slightly too-long look, the almost-unnoticed touch - and pounces on them. Which is why it’s rather painful to admit that I didn’t see Gadge as a ship till it started cropping up in the fanfics I read, and even then I didn’t understand where the pairing had come from. (This was circa 2012, by the bye. All three books were out and the THG movie was in theaters.) I remember wondering at one point why people would ever put Madge and Gale together and being mortified that Madge bringing the morphling after Gale was whipped hadn’t given me proper shipper pause. It wasn’t so much that I’d overlooked the scene or its significance; rather, I identify strongly with Katniss and she hated the implication (made by Haymitch, who I’ve never been able to stand) that something might be going on between Gale and Madge, and somewhere between that and the wretched post-whipping Galeniss, the notion of any sort of relationship between Gale and Madge vanished like wisps of vapor. After all, Madge was Katniss’s friend, so it made sense (to me at the time) that she would make a courageous gesture to help Katniss by helping Gale.

At this point in my little shipper head, Gale was little more than an obstacle to Everlark, especially since I was still in that purist “T-rated canon post-MJ fics only” stage, which meant at the very best, Madge might show up in Katniss’s nightmares. My very first fic - which started as a joke with my sister and quickly turned into a legitimate premise - was Something Good: a gender-reversed (canon post-MJ) Everlark story loosely based on The Sound of Music - naturally, with no Madge whatsoever and Baroness!Gale as a major obstacle.

And just before I could post the first chapter of that fic, in a twist that even I couldn’t have predicted, I was unexpectedly, abruptly, intensely inspired to write an Everlark version of “East of the Sun and West of the Moon.”

“What has this to do with Gadge?” you may ask. For starters, it was the first time I had to be a grown-up and write Gale (in spite of my feelings) as Katniss’s friend, however briefly, as they part in the woods in Ch 2. And then I wanted Madge to come over and say goodbye in Ch 3, which meant that someone had to go and tell her that Katniss was leaving. And that’s where all the trouble started. ;)

Gadge exited Stage Left of the WtMiverse at that point (some four years ago) but they were still dancing around the fringes of my fics, for those with eyes to see. I’d discovered a passionate fondness for AU!Gale, who was easy to make a relative of Katniss and therefore no longer an obstacle-to-Everlark, so I had no trouble writing said Gales as attractive and deeply fascinating (i.e., the gamekeeper cousin in The Threshing Floor and Eomer!Galen in The Steward and the Bow-Maiden), but of equal importance, I think, was the fact that I was starting to envision and even imply Gadge relationships on the fringes of those fics. In Threshing Floor Haymitch accuses Peeta of never noticing Wessex girls till Katniss showed up in the field and makes a special note of “Viscount Undersee’s girl [riding] across your field in her petticoat at Midsummer,” which I always assumed was something to do with Hawthorne the gamekeeper (be it to impress him, get his attention, or meet him for a lover’s tryst), but as I never went back to write the epilogue I’d intended, the question was never answered. Bow-Maiden was supposed to have an epilogue too (”The Bride of Ithilien”), in which a Tolkienesque wedding night would be preceded by Eowyn!Katniss receiving new bride counsel from Queen Anniwen and - guess who? - Madriniel, princess of Dol Amroth and new wife of Eomer!Gale. (Heck, somewhere in there I was determined to write my own version of Marion Chesney’s delightful Six Sisters series, in which Regency era social divide!Gadge was very much on the docket, particularly as Madge would be the only one with prospects for a decent society marriage!)

And then a whole dump-truck of very bad life stuff happened to me (there’s no other way to say it :/) and all things writing fell away for a very long time. I managed to produce a little more WtM from the mire but trying to write anything at all was like trying to walk on a broken leg. (It still is, for the majority of the time. :( The prolific enthusiasm has never come back.) But some way, somehow, from the depths of that morass, I got an impulse to write Six Months to Strawberry Time, or rather, what I thought would be the entirety of the fic: one quick spiky Gadge oneshot to show Madge becoming Gale’s hunting partner (something I’d intended for the WtMiverse almost from the beginning but which wasn’t supposed to come up till Everlark visited the district in spring, by which time Gadge might also be in a romantic relationship…). 

I felt pretty good about the oneshot (for so I thought it would remain) and figured I’d leave the fic in-progress in case other quick oneshot-esque chapters presented themselves…and then this July, as I was trying desperately to work on Honey-God (and binging on adaptations of Jane Eyre, for which we might be partially able to blame my roommate), Strawberry Time suddenly roared to the forefront of my mind in thorough, lavish detail and demanded to be written. Which put me in an awkward place all around, but these were the only words that had come to me in many months and so of course, I had to chase them.

Three months later Strawberry Time is sitting at just under 40,000 words (and counting), and I can only be grateful to the Gadge devotees for letting me crash their party so late in the game and apologetic to my Everlark readers, to whom this fic (and especially my Gadge Day queue) must feel like a massive betrayal. I most assuredly didn’t plan to start a massive multi-chapter Gadge fic but I’m curiously glad that I have - in part to finally explore these characters and their dynamic (and let me tell you, having to write Gale honestly telling Madge about his feelings for Katniss was hard as nails) but also because opening the door in the other direction - into Twelve rather than the woods - has provided a delicious opportunity to follow all the parallel rabbit trails, from Primko’s windowsill courtship to Rooba’s mythical bacon buns. Strawberry Time has already given me opportunities to drop hints about future (and significant past) stuff in the WtMiverse that would never have fit into WtM itself, and of course we’ll soon have Gadge kisses (and very possibly Gadge smut ;D) as the icing on the strawberry cake.

Will I ever write Gadge outside of the WtMiverse (ex. Jane Eyre, Beauty and the Beast)? I truly have no idea. Depression is relentless and brutal, and I had to claw my way to the surface just to produce this Gadge Day queue. But Gadge presents a delicious dynamic all their own (as do Marko/Prim and Jack/Raisa, if you’re me :D) and once they’re a part of your shipping lineup, you start getting besieged by plot bunnies you would never previously have thought twice about - bunnies that could be made to serve other pairings but into which the perfect pairing fits like a key in a well-oiled lock. Which gets you wondering if maybe you should start spending more time with that pairing that fits so well into all these wonderful plots…

I know this isn’t really a “why I ship Gadge” piece - I tried to write one such and this is what came out, and I’m far too tired to try again - but I really hope it will suffice, if for no other reason than to begin to explain to folks following me why I crawled out of my dark hole and spent an insane amount of hours tagging and scheduling over 100 Gadge-centric posts for the blog I haven’t worked on in many months. Thanks for letting me ramble. *hugs*

Admin Note

Hey everyone, just a quick note. 

I put it on my own page two weeks ago that I was emigrating, well yesterday was the day. It took fourteen hours of travelling, starting at 3am, with a 4-year-old child, and a lot of packing, meaning that when there was nothing coming in for the queue, I was not able to put in anything to keep it going, hence the severe lack of stories/imagines yesterday. As it stands, I am going through what has been submitted now, so there should be no more interruptions, I am sorry for the slight inconvenience this may have caused.