i take no joy in this

Every time I hear about someone buying a house I get heart palpitations because for all the supposed joy that’s meant to come with ~having your own place~ all I can think is: if something happens to this house, you’re stuck with it. If you want to move, you have to deal with the house first. If some unforeseen accident strikes and the house is damaged/destroyed, it will be you having to sort out the mess – and even if you have money/insurance/what have you, it will take a long time and it will not be fun. And yet owning a house is meant to be the pinnacle of achievements, and the ultimate guarantee of Security. I see literally nothing secure about it. No thank you, I am just 100% going to pass on the house ownership bandwagon.

Announcement - Important, please read.

Alright, so, I’m sure that many of you are aware that I’ve not been in a particularly good place lately. I won’t go into detail, in case I trigger anyone, but I’m not in a good place.

I have to take care of myself, first and foremost. I have to focus on getting better above anything else.

Being in this fandom was, at first, a joy. I loved being in this fandom and shipping Newtina with other people who were as passionate as myself, I loved that we got to share stories with each other and talk about them. I loved all of the other writers in this fandom, and I thought of many of them as my friends, if only online.

But it’s come to my attention that there are some who think that they’re better than others in this fandom; they think that their stories are the ultimate best, they think that it’s their god-given right to reblog stories, only to then explain “this is what you could have done better” – and by reblogging it, it was for EVERYONE to see. They think that it’s okay to ignore or feel superior to other people in the fandom – and these are people who I thought were my friends because they helped me on a number of things with my fics. Said people have no unfollowed me, so I’m trusting that they won’t see – and if they do, then I doubt they’ll care. I’ve tried messaging them but no reply, so… I cannot do anything else.

To add, there’s the hate, and while I could simply ignore or delete it, I’ve still seen it and it hurts. It hurts that people think it’s okay to tear me – or ANYONE – down like that; any time that I’ve felt even a little bit happy, something has come along to ruin it.

It’s for this reason that I’m going to be taking a break from this tumblr, and from this fandom, after tonight. I don’t know for how long – it could simply be a day, it could be weeks, it could be months – but I’m at the point where I was crying in the car on the way home from hospital because of it. I simply cannot do this anymore, it’s not healthy for me, and I have to put my health first.

I don’t know if I will continue to write stories. I wanted to – I had the whole universe planned out, as evidenced by my future headcanons – but after a) being ignored by people I was hoping would advise me on certain aspects and b) recieiving hate, I’m done. I’m so fucking done. I hope that one day I can come back to write stories but at the moment it looks unlikely.

If people – either the people who have until now ignored me or people who have supported me – want to send private messages then I may make an exception for that. But I don’t think I’ll be publically posting for a while.

Look, maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow morning and decide “actually, I can do this” – maybe I’ll wake up and still feel awful. I simply don’t know.

Thank you to the people who have been supportive and haven’t abandoned me yet. I’m getting help, I promise, and I love you all for caring so much about me.

Thanks,

Porps/Megan

Okay, but imagine the first time Oswald calls Ed the Riddler. Not under threats, not because Ed makes him to, not as a mockery, but willingly, proudly and triumphantly, honouring his friend’s achivements, taking pride in his apprentice’s becoming, accepting the fact that Ed is not simply his satellite but a great villain himself, and finally acknowledging him as an equal.

(Not that he’ll never ever call Ed ‘Ed’ again. Of course he will, they have history after all)

Dear readers of IBFY...

Bear with me one last time. IBFY is coming to an end and since I’m feeling very emotional, I’m gonna do as I always do. Take it out on you. Yes, I hear you groan in joy, and don’t worry, I’ve only just begun.

As most know I started IBFY because Nan had been pestering me to write her a fic for a while. In the beginning, I just want to write a silly story but then just I sat down to write I read a fic that pissed me off. Me being me, I threw away all other idea’s away and began writing IBFY. And now, a good 280k words later, I’m done. And naturally, the end product is nothing like I thought it would be. Instead of a bittersweet little fic about falling in love ended up a giant of a character study with more angst than I thought I could ever write. But I’m proud of my story. I really am.
I can’t really say how much IBFY means to me, because I haven’t got the words.

When I began writing back in the beginning of October I had completely lost my love for writing. Rejection letters from my original work and a stressed personal life had killed my passion and I couldn’t write anything. Writing a little story for Nan seemed like the perfect solution. I hadn’t expected that my little story would give me back my love for words and telling stories, but it did. And for that, I’m eternally grateful.

One thing I’m even more grateful for though, is you. My lovely readers. IBFY isn’t an easy fic to write and it is no secret that I’ve gotten my share of sour readers and anons (usually because of Tae, sigh) and tbh both of us were close to giving up quite a few times (chapter 3 comes to mind…sigh… Tae again). And we properly would have if it wasn’t for the support from all of you. So here’s one last time;


THANK YOU!!!!!


Seriously, from the bottom of our heart. This fic would be what it was if it wasn’t fro some of you and I’ve been so privileged to get some wonderful new friends; Tia, Rose, Yeni, Sasha, feelz, foxi, our lovely Sophie’s and all the other that has either been with us from the start or joined us along the way. The story wouldn’t have been the same without any of you. It really wouldn’t. ARMY is indeed the best fandom, and I’m so glad Nan dragged me into this mess. Not only do I get good music, I also get to meet amazing people.

And of course, A thank you to Nan, my sister and co-author. You’re the light of my life. I couldn’t have done this without you. If IBFY belongs to anyone, It belongs to you.

And since I’ve already written a whole bloody novel already (No Tia, I have so self-control what so ever, isn’t IBFY proof enough) and I even tried to be nice and serious (until now that is) let me finish with a little joke;

What is IBFY?…Pain in the form of fiction

Funny right?

Sincerely yours,

Helena, Queen of Angst, Destroyer of hearts, Cheese cake of destruction armed with a baseball bat of emotion and your very own Hel.

5/28/17 recs

Note: My exams are over but it will take a few days to get back into the rhythm of things. Sorry for short rec lists in the meantime.

1. Eight Days A Week by Mhalachai || rated G, 6.9k

okay but a nanny!AU where Viktor has somehow acquired a bushel of children and needs a nanny to help care for his screaming brood - enter Yuuri, freshly retired from what he thinks was a failed figure skating career, and in desperate need of money to help pay off his student loans.

  • Comment: OH MY GOD I- IT’S SO GOOD. щ(゜ロ゜щ) EVEN THOUGH IT’S NOT LIKE A COMPLETE FIC IT’S SO ENJOYABLE AND JUST. HELL. READ IT. Nanny AU is like such a fucking fandom classic and Mhalachai presents this perfect perfect thing I wish it was a massive longfic but I’ll take this because it’s wonderful and the dynamics are everything and //lies down it’s such a joy to read.
  • YOU SHOULD READ IT 

2. Gentlemen and Businessmen by Theladyofravenclaw || Rated T, 22k

Yuuri Katsuki is a businessman in desperate need of a date for the week and instructions around L.A. Victor Nikiforov is a prostitute just doing his best to find some work to help pay the rent. When these two cross paths Victor and Yuuri are set up for a whirlwind of events as Victor finds himself thrown into the world of first-class society and Yuuri starts to question whether what his company does is right or wrong as they both find themselves falling more and more in love with each other. But as they fall in love with one another they become more aware of the fact that they only have one week together.

And it’s almost over.

(Or in simpler terms my excuse to write a Pretty Woman AU)

  • Comment: I’ve never actually watched Pretty Woman, so I kinda went into this blind. But it was nice. a a little confusing at points and sometimes trite, but overall enjoyable. Also complete!!! 

3. On the Run/True Freedom by mean_whale || Rated M, 13.5k

Viktor has gotten accustomed to his life on the streets, when he’s suddenly abducted by two unknown people who take him away.

Yuuri has a condition that has prevented him from ever having a proper relationship with an omega.

When Viktor, who doesn’t trust alphas, meets Yuuri, who doesn’t trust himself, will their lives change for better or for worse?

  • Comment: an a/b/o au that has me very curious and very looking forward to how it goes on. I want to know more about Victor’s past and Yuuri’s situation soon.

anonymous asked:

Hi B, (and to everyone else's' work that has been stolen)! It disappoints me that the bad and stupid people always seem to winning and killing the joy of what makes other people happy! Even though, like you said it's just fanfics I'd be sad for you and E, who are two of my favourites on here, taking your art down. It's a personal decision obviously but I wouldn't let them do this to me? But that's just my stubborn self talking. Whatever you decide is gonna be the right thing for you! much love x

I can’t talk for @permanentcross but I feel like she would agree that there’s a lot more involved than just the stealing and it’s getting really really tiring.

It makes us not want to post. It pushes us away and it takes away the joy of being here. Instead of just being able to enjoy Harry and writing about him, we have to deal with a lot of unnecessary drama that we don’t want to be a part of. It’s just getting really tiring to be here.

And it’s not that we don’t love you guys, we do. But the fun hasn’t been here for a long time and it’s just hard to deal with it all.

i can’t draw anything bc i have school holy fuck BUT HAPPY BIRTHDAY @ewpilotz !!! I’M SO PROUD OF U FOR EXISTING. U’VE MADE IT SO FAR AND IT’S BEEN A PLEASURE TO KNOW U FOR LIKE 3-4 YEARS NOW EVEN IF WE DID HAVE A GAP OF MONTHS WHERE WE DIDN’T TALK DUE TO UHHH CIRCUMSTANCES. ur a great friend 10/10 and one day when abbie takes u away to go live happily ever after i’m gonna come over and gift u and her w a million cats and dogs. over these years u’ve still been the biggest nerd to ever exist. i love u dude, and i live for the day to see you screaming at the heavens bc of ur joy. i hope u had the best birthday ever!! 🎉🎉

3

Day 6: Protect!!
He doesn’t like being protected….

Kiribaku week is almost over D: What are we gonna do with our lives?!?!!

@kiribakuweek2k17


Cheers,
~Joy

7

I want to have fun. I’m not interested in being a serious actor because I think it’s boring, and I think we’ve got plenty of them. So, I like to do stuff that has a sense of humour, and stuff that doesn’t necessarily take itself too seriously. But equally I’m also now yearning to explore the dark side of life a little bit. The joy of the job is the diversity and the variety – and, if you’re lucky enough, to have the freedom to do different things. I don’t like the idea of a box. It’s nice to kind of defy the idea of a box —- Taron Egerton

anonymous asked:

I hate you, now fuck me

How Until My Feet Bleed by @kazliin Should Have Ended

Part of him still couldn’t believe that Yuuri was finally here with him, that this was real and not just another dream….

Digging one of his hands into the skin of Viktor’s back… slowly taking him apart, Yuuri looked at him, face flushed and staring at Viktor with an intensity that made it impossible to look away.

“I hate you.” Yuuri breathed and his eyes held none of the warmth or joy that Viktor had been feeling just seconds before. “Now fuck me.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut and Viktor felt his fingers still in shock, the words so unexpected and unexpectedly painful that every muscle in his body froze and locked in place….

“What?!”

Victor snapped back, the rush hitting him like he was slamming back down on the ice again. To hear those words spoken outloud was a slap to the face and a plunge off a cliff, straight down the sheer rock face of confusion. Because the last time he was in a hotel room with Yuuri, he had been hearing softly muttered confessions imitating affection, and the sharp twist of reality was too much to ignore.

The chill in Yuuri’s eyes melted at Victor’s outburst, honey brown widening in betrayal of his shock. Whatever haze of lust and alcohol fleeted from them in stark reaction, and Yuuri seemed as frozen as Victor, except for his fingers trembling, curled into the bedsheets.

One breath take in an attempt to calm the mix of emotions threatening to spill forth, and Victor permitted it all burst forward despite himself. “Why are you even here then?”

Just like that, Victor saw all the confidence drain from Yuuri’s face, leaving him pale and then scrambling for shoved aside bedding to cover himself. Victor didn’t bother.

“Yuuri, I don’t-…” Years of questions leapt through every part of his mind, brawling to be the first to fall from his tongue just so he could finally hope to grasp at a single note of understanding. The most and least simple being, “why?”

If emotions and confusion, insistent need to understand were at battle inside himself, it looked like a war was raging through Yuuri. His gaze locked with Victor’s and yet he still looked torn between wanting to cling to it and to flee, clutching at the bedsheets which he brought up to cover himself, suddenly modest. “Why what?”

The tremor in his voice was all that Victor needed. “Why do you… I don’t get you, Yuuri! What the hell did I do to merit you dancing with me one moment and telling me you hate me as you try to sleep with me the next?”

A heartbeat passed. Then two.

Yuuri opened his mouth, no words coming forth, and then shut it. His eyebrows arched high into bangs messed from the heated lead up, and then his expression fell. And hardened. His red, swollen lips pursed into a thin line, and those gorgeous eyes narrowed. It almost startled Victor, to recognize in that moment the contempt he had often seen directed at him when on the podium.

“This! Exactly this!” Yuuri snapped, dropping the bedsheet as he leaned forward, closing the distance Victor placed between them. “The fact that you don’t even care enough to remember!”

“Remember what?!” Every memory of his interaction with Yuuri flashed by, but none of them could account for hate, at least not in Victor’s mind. “What I said to you in the bathroom that one time? That was–”

“No! Before that! You were my idol, Victor, and you broke my heart!”

Before that… Desperately, Victor searched every shred of memory, every hint of an interaction with Yuuri that he had treasured no matter how tense or distant, but there was nothing. “What, Yuuri, I would never–”

“You did!” Yuuri’s words cut in and Victor let him, watching the flush of arousal on Yuuri’s skin turn to one of anger and irritation instead. “I worshipped you and you insulted me. You belittled me. I was just a kid…” Yuuri inhaled a shaky breath and the dam broke. “I went to see you, when you skated your last Junior season. I got tickets as a birthday present, because I wanted nothing more than to see you skate. And after you won, I… I waited outside for you, to get your autograph. And I met you.”

It wasn’t ice in Yuuri’s eyes anymore. It wasn’t fire. It was what Victor had felt so close to, so many times himself, could recognize instantly. Defeat.

“You… you broke my heart, Victor, when I met you…”

Broken did not seem to be enough. Victor shattered, cascading into shards that littered the cold floor beside them. “I… I don’t remember.”

“Of course you don’t. I was just one fan. And you have so many. Why should you?”

He should have. Why didn’t he. “But Yuuri, it’s you. How could I not remember you?” Why would he though. Yuuri was right. He would have just been another face in the crowd. Yet Victor felt like he should. Of all the faces, of people, he should have remembered Yuuri. What had he even said.

“You didn’t. You… I just-… how many other hearts did you break, Victor? How many other dreams did you step on? Or did you forget all of those too?”

The shards fragmented. Stepped on and crushed by each syllable being confessed. He had met Yuuri, broken his heart, and couldn’t even recall how. Couldn’t even begin to guess. “Yuuri, I’m sorry-”

“Whatever,” Yuuri sighed, then shoved off the bed, but Victor reached over and grabbed his hand before Yuuri could grab his clothes off the floor, grateful for when Yuuri stopped and did not jerk away.

“Yuuri, don’t please…” He needed to understand. He would not be content to leave it at that. “You… at the Olympics, you got drunk… you told me that you liked me. Or that you liked my hair, and my eyes. So I know you can’t hate me. Not completely. And Yuuri, I don’t hate you. Please, I just need to understand, so that if I need to spend the rest of my life apologizing to you, I can mean it. So please tell me. Help me remember. Or at least, help me understand.”

Conflict writ itself in bold across Yuuri’s face, but the tension in his shoulders softened and the pull of his wrist in Victor’s hand ebbed away. The digital clock display on the hotel bedstand switched minutes, and Yuuri pulled at his lower lip with his teeth, then nodded. “Okay but… let me put something on first?”

There was a blush tinting Yuuri’s cheeks, softening him into a vision Victor had only seen in Phichit’s photos before, of a delicate Yuuri that Victor had never been permitted to see in the flesh before now. His chest felt too small for his heart as it swelled with the affection Victor had already been so bad at containing.

Without the briefest moment of hesitation, Victor rushed to the corner of the room, grabbing one of his shirts from closet since he had now regrettably torn Yuuri’s. He draped it across Yuuri’s shoulders with a gentleness that Yuuri did not seem to believe.

“I think we probably have a lot to talk about.” Victor tried to smile and felt it bloom into a real one when Yuuri scoffed, a thread of amusement and understatement so clearly wrapped around it.

“Yeah… I think… we really do.”


(The moral of the story: communication can happen, if you behave like a good person and put your dick away for just a hot second)