i think i chose good pieces for this

Hate Me

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Trigger Warnings: Language, suicide (kind of), violence, asshole-ness, death

Word Count: 2858

Summary: All Dean wants in this world is for you to be safe and he doesn’t believe that is with him. So, in an effort to keep you safe he makes the ultimate sacrifice: his heart. Knowing you would never leave him he comes up with a stupid plan that backfires on him completely. What happens when he not only shatters his heart but yours as well?

A/N: This is for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing Anti-Valentine’s Challenge. So basically the goal here was to write a story that included a really sad song chosen from her list and make it angst to the fucking max. The song I chose here was Hate Me by: Blue October. This story is all angst and all heartbreak sorry no fluff this time. But with all done and said I think this came out pretty damn good. I almost teared up a bit writing some pieces. Any who as always feedback is always welcome and wanted but hate isn’t so if you don’t have anything nice to say keep it to yourself. BTW Happy Valentine’s Day Y’all !!!!

Bold Italics = Song Lyrics 

Regular Italics = Flashbacks 

Originally posted by violet-phantomhive

Originally posted by raquel-lostgirl

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BonRin Week Day 2: Secrets


It had been difficult to sneak out of the dorm. It had been nearly impossible to get past the teachers and leave the campus. Yet Bon had managed to find the bus stop and lean against a street lamp, waiting to be picked up. His heart was racing and his chest was tight with guilt as he watched the scene around him. He had never left campus without permission before.  It wasn’t as if he snuck out to do anything wrong, though; he just needed to buy some supplies. Then he would return immediately and no one would be the wiser.

Bon’s internal turmoil was interrupted by the bus pulling up, brakes squealing. The doors opened and he climbed aboard. Finding a comfortable seat near the back, Bon settled in for the ride. His thoughts began to gather once more.

This is stupid. I should have ordered it online. Leaving campus could get me a detention, Bon thought. What if someone saw me? They might tell Okumura-sensei. He would put me on probation. Or what if they told Rin? God, if Rin found out, he’d be pissed. Well, maybe not pissed, but definitely worried.

Bon shook his head. No one was going to find out. He’d make sure of that. No one would know he left and if they did, they wouldn’t know why. He was safe.

The bus came to a stop and Bon made his way to the front, walking down the steps. He began heading down the street, hands in his pockets and his head low. His destination was only a few minutes away. It was already in view, with its rich purple awnings and its racks of bright colors and patterns. His heart flutter with anticipation instead of nervousness and guilt.

Finally, Bon stood in front of the store, staring at all the new items in the window display. His lips curled up slightly as he walked in.

“Welcome to Fabric Palace! Can I - oh, Ryuuchan, it’s you. I haven’t seen you in here lately! You always order online.” A feminine voice said.

Bon scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah. Been busy with school. How you been, Katsuka?”

The woman, Katsuka, beamed. “I’ve been great! The shop is doing well. We even have a few classes now. Any chance you’ll come teach beginner’s sewing?”

“Nah. I got too much going on. I’m not even that good.”

“My daughter’s wedding gown begs to differ! You made it look so beautiful, Ryuuji. The beadwork was as stunning as the stitching, too!”

Bon looked to the ground, cheeks pink. “It wasn’t much. Just wanted to help. You made all those robes for the temple.”

“Enough about me, Ryuuchan! What are you doing lately? Do you like high school? Are you working on any new pieces?”

“School’s good. I’ve got straight A’s. I ain’t working on anything, but I want to make an apron.”

“You’re a good boy, Ryuuji. Let me show you some patterns. Who are you making it for?”

“Just some idiot. He likes to cook and he drops stuff in my dorm. Figured I should at least repay him.”

Katsuka smirked. She knew this ‘idiot’ was probably more than that, but she would keep it to herself. Bon would admit it when he was ready. She pulled a few patterns out of a filing cabinet and spread them on the counter for Bon to see. He cringed slightly.

“Katsuka, you got anything a little less…girly?” Bon asked.

Katsuka gave him a look. “What do you mean?”

“I like the patterns, but they’re kinda all ruffles and ribbon. I just want something a little more masculine. Rin’s kind of weird about that stuff sometimes. Plus the moron is prone to catching things on fire. I’m not putting that much effort into something that’ll end up destroyed.”

“Ah, so his name is Rin. I guess I could give you the pattern for a plain one. It won’t be as fun, though.”

Bon looked over the patterns once more. Maybe something a bit feminine wouldn’t be so awful. After all, Rin would probably look good in something frilly, maybe a baby blue apron with some pretty ribbon piping. Bon picked up a pattern for a simple apron with a ruffled edge. It would look nice.

“Good choice. I’m sure Rin will like it.” Katsuka said.

“Maybe. He gets defensive about people thinking he’s feminine.” Bon said.

“Sounds like a boy I know. About sixteen, looks like a delinquent, hates people knowing that he can sew because he thinks people will make fun of him for being girly. Let me tell you something: boy and girl activities don’t exist. Sure, you’ve got masculine and feminine, but that’s preferences. Anyone can do anything.”

Bon frowned and chose to ignore her. “Okay. I need baby blue fabric for this piece and maybe a white patterned piece for the pockets. Have anything that looks like toile? And lace piping.”

“And the genius is back. Follow me.”

Bon followed Katsuka through the aisles, picking out his materials. He couldn’t wait to see Rin’s face when he saw it.


“Nii-san, I will be back late tonight. Please stay in the dorm.” Yukio said.

Rin nodded as he watched Yukio shut his briefcase. His brother had nothing to worry about; Rin planned on staying in all night. He had his own plans, plans so shameful that he couldn’t even tell Yukio. Rin felt hot just thinking about them.

“No problem, Four-Eyes! I’ll make bentos for tomorrow!” Rin babbled happily.

Yukio offered a soft smile. “That sounds nice. Have fun.”

“Be careful, okay, Yukio?”

“Of course, Rin. I promise.”

With that, Yukio left for his mission, closing the door behind him. Rin rushed to the window. He watched, waiting for Yukio to leave the dorm entirely. Yukio turned back to wave at him and went on his way.

With his twin gone, Rin could finally do it.

Reaching under the bed, Rin pulled out a plain cardboard box and lifted the top. He began pulling out its contents, spreading them across the bed. Careful fingers ran over each item, enjoying the feel of soft fabric on his skin.

“Blue or yellow?” Rin asked himself, looking between his choices.

Before him were two simple dresses, one in blue and one in yellow. The blue one was Rin’s favorite; it had capped sleeves and the skirt fell to his knees, the mesh-like fabric swishing freely. The yellow one had its merits, too, though. It was sleeveless and the skirt was bowed out slightly, giving it a more formal look. It had a bit of glitter, which always made Rin feel pretty.

Rin’s hand hovered over both for a few moments before picking up the blue one. It would be the best one to cook in; Shiro had always called it his housewife dress.

The memory made Rin smile. The old man had found out about his hobby only a year after he had started it. He never teased Rin for liking feminine clothes. In fact, he had bought Rin a few dresses and skirts when he had the money to.

Pushing away the sadness swelling within his heart, Rin began to undress. He pulled on a pair of appropriate underwear - a pair Shiro had gotten him after he had caught Rin wearing boxers with a skirt - settling them on his hips before pulling the dress over his head. He smoothed out the skirt, twirling a bit.

Not bad. Wonder if I could find some cheap heels to go with it. It would probably make my ass look great, Rin thought, laughing to himself. He reached into the box and pulled out a pair of white flats, slipping them onto his feet. They would do for now.

Before he left for the kitchen, Rin stood in front of the mirror and grabbed the clip Bon had given him. He pinned his bangs back, wondering what Bon would think of his outfit. He’d probably get upset and say ‘what the hell are you wearing? Don’t you have any decency,’ Rin thought.

Rin headed to the kitchen, set on making rice balls for tomorrow’s bentos. He began taking out ingredients and placing them on the counter, ignoring Ukobach’s questioning eyes. Kuro hopped onto the counter and nuzzled Rin’s arm.

“You look pretty, Rin!” Kuro exclaimed.

Rin blushed. “Aw, thanks, Kuro.”

“Are you gonna make chicken rice balls? Can I have some?”

“You little jerk! You called me pretty for food!”

“Nuh-uh! I called you pretty because I meant it. Food was an afterthought.”

“Fine. I’ll save you some, okay?”

“Yay! Thanks, Rin!”

Rin smiled, stroking the demon’s fur before shooing him out of the kitchen. He began his work, humming happily and swaying his hips to make his dress swish around his legs.


It had taken some time to find a place to work on the apron in peace. The dorm had been out of the question; Konekomaru and Shima could barge in at any moment and catch Bon in the act. The library didn’t make the cut, either. Bon’s machine would be too loud and it also had the added risk of being full of people that could see him sewing. So, he searched high and low and finally found a fairly rundown classroom that he could use and have total privacy. He set up shop in the back corner and started his project.

“Tch, how tall is Okumura? He’s one of the shortest guys in the class. Screw it, I’ll just make it a large. If he doesn’t like it, he can kiss my ass.” Bon muttered to himself, cutting out the pattern carefully.

He began pinning the thin paper to the fabric, a frown of concentration on his face. Maybe he could make the bottom half of the apron flare out a little. It would only require adding onto the pattern slightly, so Bon pulled out a measuring tape and began drawing. He put a large curve on the bottom of the apron, giving it a dress-like appearance. Bon smirked. Wouldn’t Rin look cute, making his cookies and octopus hotdogs in his pretty apron?

When the hell did I start thinking Okumura would be cute ever? He looks like a monkey, Bon thought.

A small voice in the back of Bon’s mind seemed to laugh at him. Bon ignored it in favor of cutting the fabric. Once he had it cut and displayed, he fired up the machine and began the task of sewing it together.


“You made three bentos. Are going to eat extra tomorrow?” Kuro asked, nibbling at a rice ball.

“Huh? Nah. I made one for Bon.” Rin said absently, sprinkling some salt in the pot in front of him.

“For Bon? Why?”

Rin shrugged. “I wanted to. As a thank you for the hair clip.”

“But you made him cookies already. And sushi. And omelettes that time he came to see Yukio and he wasn’t here.”

“Look, Kuro, are you complaining about leftovers?”

Kuro shook his head. “No! But Shiro told me people cook for people they like. So do you like Bon?”

“That stupid rooster head? Hell no.”

“But you cook for him a lot. Are you sure?”

“I’m positive. Besides, Yukio would kill Bon if he ever thought I liked him.”

“Yukio wouldn’t be mad, I think, if you liked him.”

Rim smiled softly. “Probably not. But I don’t have to worry about it anyway. Since I don’t like anyone. Besides, I’m not into guys.”

“Liar! You have all those mangas with the boys kissing and holding hands!”

“Shut up and don’t go through my things, you rotten little cat!”

Kuro laughed as Rin pouted. Rin was so silly; why couldn’t he just admit that he had a crush? If he did, Bon would be able to see him in all of his dresses and skirts and then Bon could tell Rin how pretty he was. Actually, now that Kuro thought about it, he had never seen Rin wear these clothes near other people, not even Yukio. It was unfortunate. Rin always looked happy in his dresses.


Two days later, Bon’s masterpiece was complete. It had taken six hours, using a chair as a mannequin, and pricking his fingers so much that he bled, but it looked beautiful. He took a picture and sent it to Katsuka. She had sent back a winky face and the words ‘I bet Rin will love it. Might even get you a kiss.’ Bon grit his teeth and shoved his phone in his pocket. Sometimes Katsuka could be annoying as hell.

He put the apron in a plain cardboard box despite wanting to wrap it nicely. He didn’t want Rin thinking he actually put effort into it. That could give him away, and then the little hellspawn might think Bon actually liked him. That would be mortifying.

Alright, time to drop it off. That bastard better like it. I should make him wear it everywhere with how much time it took, Bon thought as he headed towards the Okumura dorm. The box tucked beneath his arm felt heavier than it should have been. Maybe it was due to the anxiousness Bon was feeling over someone finding out he had sewn the garment. Or, perhaps more likely, it was Katsuka’s words that had him worried. Did he like Rin? Is that why he had put so much effort into the apron?


Music blared from Rin’s phone, filling the kitchen with obnoxious bubble gum pop and techno beats. His black skirt swayed as he danced through the room, mixing ingredients and chopping vegetables. Ukobach was manning the oven, stirring simmering pots of sauce and porridge. Kuro was sitting on the counter watching them work, enjoying his job as taste tester.

“Yo, Ukobach, can you add some cinnamon to that pudding? Yukio likes it to be really strong.” Rin said.

Ukoback nodded and grabbed the spice, dumping in a healthy amount before mixing it in. Rin smiled in thanks and returned to chopping celery. Yasai no nikumaki was on the menu for tomorrow’s bentos and they were as time consuming as they were delicious. He was glad he had Ukobach’s help; he’d never get done otherwise.

“You’re making three again?” Kuro asked.

“Yeah, why?” Rin asked.

“Because you’ve been making three all week. Who’s this one for?”

Rin looked away from the cat, hiding his face. “Just someone.”

“Oh! For Bon!”

Rin groaned. “Yes, okay? It’s not because I like him or anything, though! He just helped me with some homework!”

“Whatever you say.”

Rin sighed, frustrated. Kuro was so fixated on him liking Bon. So what if he made the guy food? Rin liked cooking. Sometimes he had extra. It wasn’t some conspiracy. Rin pulled at his skirt a bit before bending down to grab another chopping board. The last thing he wanted was anyone seeing his panties, even if the only people around him were people that knew that he wore them.

Pulling out a package of beef from the refrigerator, Rin began slicing it into thin sheets to make the rolls. He threw a slice to Kuro, laughing as the cat scarfed it down.

“Yum! Your food is so good, Rin. I bet everyone loves it!” Kuro praised.

“I hope so. I used to make this for Dad all the time. He’d laugh because I made the carrots look like hearts. He said it was literally putting love into the food. I think he was crazy. Like I’d do that for him.” Rin said.

“You miss him a lot. I do, too.”

Rin smiled softly. “I guess we need to eat these in his honor, then, huh?”


Silence fell over the kitchen for a moment before Rin decided it was too much.

“Hey, being sad in the kitchen is not allowed! I’m going to crank up the Girl’s Generation!” He exclaimed.


Bon knocked on the door to the dorm no less than twenty times before giving up. He looked up to Rin’s window, hoping to see the other boy. Normally, Rin would be at his desk, twirling a pencil, chin resting in his hand. Whenever Bon saw him, he would flip him off, and Rin would respond with a stupid face. However, the curtains were closed. Bon huffed. He knew Rin was there, so what the hell was he doing that was so important that he couldn’t answer the door?

“Okumura! Come open the door, you moron!” Bon yelled, banging on the door.

No response came. He grabbed the doorknob and twisted, finding it open. Bon sighed, shaking his head. Rin really was an idiot, keeping his door unlocked when he was home alone. Bon stepped inside and toed off his shoes before making his way up the stairs.

He find Rin and Yukio’s room and knocked on the door. Again, there was no answer. Bon tried once more, receiving the same response.

“Damn it, Okumura! I’m not gonna wait around for you all night!” Bon snapped.

Bon stomped back down the stairs to continue his search. If Rin wasn’t in his room, the next possible place he could be was the kitchen. Bon walked down the hall, smirking when he heard music. He had found Rin. He quickened his pace, stepping into the kitchen only a minute later.

When he caught sight of Rin, he froze.

The black haired boy was dancing at the counter, his back to Bon. A knee-length black skirt was settled on his hips, swaying as Rin shook and shimmied. Black patent leather flats covered his feet, giving them an almost dainty look. A baseball shirt covered his top half, but it was about two sizes too big, causing it to fall off his shoulder. Bon gulped. What the hell had he walked into?

“Kuro, what’s wrong? I can’t understand you when you talk like that, it sounds like hissing.” Rin said.

Bon’s eyes flitted to the cat on the counter. He seemed to glare at Bon, as if he was personally offended by his presence. The cat let out a loud meow, finally causing Rin to turn around.

“Oh my God, Kuro, you can have some when -” Rin began.

His words trailed off as his blue eyes met Bon’s brown. Rin felt his cheeks heat up and he tried to pull down his skirt more, but the damage was done. Bon was staring at him, eyes fixated on his skirt, face unreadable.

“What the hell, Okumura?” Bon asked after a few minutes.

“Look, it’s not what you think - you know what? I don’t have to explain anything to you. Get out.” Rin said.

“Wait, I-”

“I said get out!”

“Shut up for a second! I don’t give a shit what you wear! Why didn’t you answer the goddamn door when I knocked?”

Rin’s eyes widened. “You - you aren’t mad? Not even a tiny bit?”

“I’m mad that you didn’t open the door.”

“But you aren’t mad about the skirt. You aren’t going to make fun of me.”

Bon snorted. “Like this is the weirdest thing you’ve done.”

Rin let out a sigh of relief. “Please don’t tell anyone. Not even Yukio knows, okay? You can’t tell.”

“Whatever. Here. This is for you. Thanks for the food.”

Bon tossed the box in his hands to Rin and shoved his hands in his pockets. Blue eyes looked at him curiously before opening the gift. Rin grinned as he pulled out the apron.

“Wow! This is so cool! Thanks, Bon!” Rin exclaimed.

Bon grimaced. “Don’t call me that. We aren’t friends.”

“Did you make it? I’ve never seen an apron like this.”

“What? Do I look like I know how to sew, Okumura? God, you’re a damn moron.”

Rin watched Bon’s eyes dart around, avoiding his eyes, and his smile widened. So Bon had made it. Rin didn’t see what he was embarrassed about; the apron looked awesome. Rin put the garment on, tying it around his waist.

“You’re pretty good. Who knew your big mitts could handle a needle?” Rin asked.

“I already told you I didn’t make it! And who knew your hairy damn monkey legs could look good in a skirt?” Bon shot back.

“You think I look good?”

Bon spluttered for a moment before crossing his arms. “No way in hell. Shut up.”

The two were silent for a moment, not looking at each other.

“Hey, uh, thanks. For the apron. And for promising not to tell.” Rin said quietly.

“Thanks for the food. You better keep your mouth shut about me being able to sew.” Bon said gruffly.

Rin simply nodded, taking what he could get. He smoothed out his apron and got back to work. Bon stood awkwardly in the doorway, contemplating what to do.

“Grab a knife, stupid. The cucumbers won’t cut themselves.” Rin said.

Bon grumbled as he followed Rin’s orders. He supposed he could do what the guy wanted just this once. It would be their secret.

sternbeere  asked:

Thanks for your wonderful posts about Snapes background and class system in Great Britain, which seems very singular in the way that it has so much impact. I am not saying that social class does not exist else where , but it seems to matter more in Great Britain (Same goes for networking). It is very illuminating for people who are not from Britain. Also one question: How do you think about J.Ks decision for Lily to chose James, does not it actually go against her intentions?

Social class exists elsewhere, but it permeates British society in a way that is very hard to describe adequately; I am never quite sure I do it justice, so I am glad it was of interest to you.

I mulled on your question for a good couple of hours.

I feel that no author can ever intend everything that the audience reads into a piece of work, because each reader draws - both consciously and subconsciously - on their own experiences when they interpret text.  Potter is curious, because the films have caused many of us to agree a consensus on many aspects of the series – but even so, the characters and locations I see in my head when I read do not necessarily match up on screen, and will differ to everyone else’s.

Secondly, I do not necessarily believe that authors always deliberately intend some of what is said in their work.  For instance, I have complained at length in the past about JK’s stance on Dumbledore’s sexuality, but whilst I am unhappy about it, I do not think her intent was negative.  On the contrary, I personally believe she intended the revelation to be positive and the wider context and insinuations of her own text simply hadn’t occurred to her.

When answering this question, I originally wrote quite a lot about James and Lily and agency and character function…but really, when it comes down to it, I think the answer is that JK was writing a rather simple story – Harry and his parents were the good guys, there were some bad guys fighting against them, and one of the bad guys turned out to be good all along because he loved one of the good guys.

The problem is, as with any media, unless your story is instantly wrapped up in one instalment, the original story starts to spin off lots of other stories – lots of unintentional stories.  You write a scene because it serves one narrative purpose, and the actions in that scene influence something else.  Sometimes, as an author, you realise this and address it.  Sometimes, as an author, it simply doesn’t occur to you that the scene would imply x or y or z, and you might be surprised when the audience finds it and gives credence to it.

Personally, I find the implication of some aspects of Potter rather…concerning – but I think that’s partly because it’s of its time, partly because it’s being consumed in a way other than it was originally designed (i.e. it was a junior series which was meant to be read, loved and forgotten – not analysed to its zenith two decades later), and partly because I do not think that some of the implications were considered by the author with the gravity they deserved.  I feel this is most clearly seen with the crude parallels to both Nazism and HIV, which I do not believe hold up under scrutiny, and yet are sometimes mentioned outside of the text as if they are cast iron.

I also believe that this is where some of the friction comes between author and audience, where the author believes they have written one tale, and the audience walks away with another.  I think this has been exacerbated by the films – we saw this rather clearly when JK bemoaned some of the audience’s love for Draco, as if her writing had nothing to do with his character’s appeal, and the attraction was all at the door of Tom Felton – and also with the rise of the internet.  JK has experienced a continued interaction with her audience, and the etiquette of such interactions is still – even now – being decided.

So to answer your specific question, although I think the broad strokes of the Severus/Lily/James triangle can be read through the prism of class, I do not think JK set out to write a working class / middle class / upper class triangle – and I think that’s why sometimes, what JK says externally from the text doesn’t always seem to marry with what she wrote, because occasionally, she didn’t see - or she chose not to give credence to - an alternative implication.

Elixir Vitae

AU XF fanfic set around the time of IWTB.

A/N: English is not my first language and I’m doing this without a beta reader, so please be kind and overlook language and grammar mistakes.

I simply had to post something today. Posting always makes me feel good, receiving friendly feedback even more. And since tomorrow is going to be a shit day, I need to enlighten today with starting a new story….

Chapter I

Her auburn hair is the first thing I see of her. It’s not done the usual way. It’s not neatly blow-dried in an effort to get rid of the frizz but has obviously been neglected. It falls oddly onto her shoulders in untamed curls, but it reflects the light of the afternoon sun as it always does when she sits on our porch with a cup of tea after a tough day, watching the sun go down.

I instantly know it’s her.

Her hair is quite a bit longer since the last time I saw her about three months ago before she had once again been taken from me. This time by a psychopath we’d been chasing together, not by alien colonists, nor by a bunch of governmental conspirators.

I’d been asked by the FBI to help out with my profiling skills to hunt down a serial killer and, of course, I had to drag her into the case with me. She’d been working as a doctor in the children’s ward at the local hospital close to where we’d settled down. She’d put the FBI behind her for good, hell, why hadn’t I let her? Well, I know the answer to that question: I simply didn’t know how to work on a case alone anymore, without discussing it with her and seeking her advice. And, as was expected, she had given me the final hint I needed to put the pieces of the puzzle together and identify the guy. I still don’t understand how I could’ve been so blind and not see that the killer had turned the tables and had started stalking me. It hadn’t even occurred to me that he might change the favorited target he’d been pursuing until then - brunette, rather plump women - to a petite, slender redhead. I, acclaimed profiler Spooky Mulder, had overlooked that taking away the person I simply couldn’t live without, might be the killer’s next move to react against me.

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A Conversation with Royla Asghar

Recently, I had the pleasure of interviewing our May Poet of the Month, Royla Asghar. Royla is a 20 year old student who was recently accepted to Malmo University, where she intends to study human rights. She is half Romanian and half Aghan, and she was born and raised in Romania. She currently lives in Denmark. In her free time, Royla enjoys cooking, reading, and learning how to be patient. She spends much of her time exploring Copenhagen and visiting her friends and family. Royla plans to publish a collection of her poetry in the near future, so stay tuned!

Jennifer: Hi Royla! I have been following your poetry blog on Tumblr for a few years now. I’ve always been attracted to the brutally honest nature of your style. Your writings are so paradoxical - heartbreakingly realistic yet sweepingly romantic at the same time. Have you always been so upfront in writing about your emotions?

Royla: Hello Jennifer, I am so flattered and so happy that you feel that way about my poetry. It is always so delightful knowing someone can feel like that about my poetry. It’s amazing. But to answer your question, no… I haven’t. And honestly, sometimes even now I feel like I can be more upfront, so when I write a poem, it’s always to make it more honest, rawer than the last. I used to dress many of (my) poems in great metaphors - you can see that in my Astronomy Series. Everything is written behind a metaphor, and even though it can make the poem delicious, it takes away the “up fronting.“ Now I am very focused on less metaphors, more nudity in my poems.

Jennifer: What inspired you to begin writing? Are your current inspirations the same?

Royla: I have always been writing. Since I was a little girl. Not poetry, at first, but I always had a journal writing in it. And then I got into quotes. I read a lot of those and then I kept a scrap book with all of my favourite quotes - I still got them, haha! And then I remember at school in 6th grade, we had a modern poet visiting our class and “taught” us poetry, and then I got a crush on a boy and he did not like me back. I wrote him a bad poem and then I wrote him many bad poems cause I was mad, and suddenly everybody knew I was poet. And it stuck with me. And then I wanted to get very serious with my poetry and I made my Tumblr. And I’ve been publishing my poems since 2013 or 2014 maybe.

My inspiration came from everywhere, but love and the city, Copenhagen, were always the main themes in my poems, and not to forget. My sense of narcissism has always been the mastermind behind most of my poems. Like the poems Boys Are Dogs and I Want Fame And Your Tears. And also my girlfriends’ lives and troubles have played major roles in my feministic poems. I get inspired very easily and so I am always writing

Jennifer: You incorporate lots of religious imagery and political themes in your poetry. How does your personal faith or spirituality influence your writing?

Royla: I am Muslim, but I haven’t always been religious. I guess when you are young, you kind of take God for granted. It’s only recently, that I felt like I need to be more close to God. Now more than ever. With that being said, I’ve always had a special relationship with God. I used to get in trouble a lot, and I knew that my religion would save me. And it did. Indeed, it did save my goddamn life. The way my religion affects my poetry is like this: because we (muslims) believe that everything happens for a reason. Everything is a part of a greater plan. Therefore, my poetry always reflects my submission to that belief. I think a lot about God. And it makes me aware of life and the people I have in my life. I love in the name of God, and my poems are pious in that way. The only time my poems are humble and pious are when I think of God and my love.

I have also written many poems with a political content, like The Immigration Series. I think you get inspired, if you like it or not, the madness that happens in the world - it inspires you to write about it

Jennifer: Are there additional themes you haven’t yet explored and would like to dive into in your future pieces?

Royla: I would love to write a whole series about marriage, and just in general to (in)corporate the concept of marriage into my poems. I haven’t really read poems with that theme. And I don’t mean it to make it sound cliché, cause marriage and getting married is so much more than white dresses and cooking breakfast. It’s a very complex theory. I want to expose the raw sides of marriage, you know? That side that makes you want to marry someone who gives you a headache, and the way you love and forgive them endlessly. Many poets, I believe, are running away from commitments, and it seems to me that they are hopelessly in love with someone they can’t have. Or, they have multiple lovers and so they never commit. But I want to write about what happens when you are loved by the person you wanted the most, and how that can still break your heart from time to time

Jennifer: As a writer, I feel that each piece I write makes me vulnerable. I have struggled with writing honestly in fear of exposing what I believe to be the rawest parts of myself. Have you ever experienced the same feeling? If so, how do you deal with it and what motivates you to be vulnerable regardless?

Royla: I have definitely experienced that feeling, I still do. It is terrifying every time I write a poem. I know true poets will scold me, but I do care about how people would react to my poetry. Especially the people I am writing about - I don’t want to hurt them. And sometimes I want to write very honest and hurtful poems, but I have a conscience. It is always a battle within myself and sometimes I publish the most outrageous pieces and I don’t think about it twice. A poem that has been hard publishing was my “Sex Tape” poem. It is the most personal poem I have ever written. I can never talk about that poem. Never. But right before I published it, I said to myself, “You know what? You deserve that poem. They need to read it.” Sometimes it feels right, even though it’s terrifying - you get impulsive and do it. I think what motives me to write recklessly is that I feel entitled to my own madness. I never feel vulnerable when writing my poems, but powerful.

Jennifer: If you could give your younger self some advice, what would you tell her?

Royla: I would tell her she has a good heart. I needed to hear that when I was younger.

Jennifer: Some writers hope to achieve a mission - political, social, etc. through their writing. Many writers aim to open readers’ minds to issues and perspectives they have only experienced in dreams. What are your long-term goals as a writer?

Royla: I am a true romantic. And so my long-term goals are to leave a legacy of love poems that make people gasp for air. I want people to love like I love. Fiercely.
I don’t want to get involved in politics and all that, but if I do, I want my poems to make refugees and immigrants proud of who they are. Simple, like that. I want love and culture to live side by side

Jennifer: I notice that much of your writing focuses on infusing, or clarifying a pre-existing state, depending on how you look at it, women with omnipotent, goddess-like characteristics. Yet, some of your other pieces feature women who are so deeply in love that they are rendered powerless. Do you identify with one of your “narrators” more than the others or do you see pieces of yourself in all of them?

Royla: It’s a very difficult theory to explain. I will try anyways. When I started writing poetry, I swore to myself that I would never write about suicide, bad self-esteem or self-harming and depression. Because I did not want to make that a ‘’thing.“ Growing up I saw a lot of girls having trouble with themselves, and I never understood why. They were so beautiful, but there was always something “ugly” about them. I never saw that in myself. I was raised in such matter, that my parents never allowed me to be insecure, ever. They would actually scold me out if I did. Therefore, I would always, as my friends said, give confidence out from myself to other people. I got very good at make people confident, and so I think that reflects a lot in my poems. When I got into Tumblr, back in 2012, there were a lot of poems about suicide and depression, and I felt like the poetry community on Tumblr needed a fresh empowering theme, and that was self-confidence. It got very hard to swallow all those posts of young girls cutting themselves. I am not sure what the purpose of all the suicide posts needed to do, bring awareness maybe? I felt like maybe those girls, with low-self-esteem would read my poetry, and feel powerful, and hopefully change their view of themselves. And this is how I created the goddess-like character in my poems. She is a huge part of me. She is dangerous if not tamed, so that’s what love does to her.

The other woman, as you said - she is deeply in love so therefore she is weaker maybe. I love her, because she is so full of love, you would drown in her. She spills love all over the place. And let me tell you what I found out about her: she is actually stronger than the “goddess-like” character. Because, my good God, it takes real strength to love a person the way they deserve to be loved.

I don’t think I identify with one of them more than the other, I see pieces of them both in myself. And it’s a struggle to keep them in balance. But I manage.

Jennifer: How has your point of view as a woman impacted the way you experience the world?

Royla: Being a light-hearted woman, I’ve always chose to see the beauty in the world. At times that makes me really naïve, but I am like that. I cannot help it. I notice details about the world most people don’t. The little things like the stars (in) the night sky. For some reason they are very important to me.

And being a light-hearted woman, I usually suffer a bit more than I should. It’s a price I am glad to pay.

Jennifer: What are you in love with?

Royla: My husband. Truly.

Jennifer: Onism, the word this magazine derives its meaning from, is defined in the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows as "the frustration of being stuck in just one body, that inhabits only one place at a time, which is like standing in front of the departures screen at an airport, flickering over with strange place names like other people’s passwords, each representing one more thing you’ll never get to see before you die–and all because, as the arrow on the map helpfully points out, you are here.” But what does this definition mean to you? Does it have any special significance to you as a writer?

Royla: Oh, I love that definition. Beautiful.

I know the feeling, I feel it often…Recently, I have this fantasy I cannot escape, but I want to take the next flight to whatever and change my name and change everything and live carefree. And just be there for a while, I don’t know where, but there. Especially when I am not loved. This fantasy can be very overwhelming

Her Bed Was a Kingdom by Royla Asghar

She was romantic,
perhaps perverted
Love was pouring
from her eyes
She was too beautiful for her
own good.
She was vivid with
her mouth,
and her body
a powerful thing.
She denied every culture,
and cried holy tears
to God.
She was terrifying.
When I would kiss her
it felt like God
created the world in her mouth.
I did not know
how to touch her.
She was a wet woman
on fire.
I did not know how the
hell to love her.
She was too much
and I hated her for that.
She was too much,
and I loved her for it.

In her presence I would die.

Royla’s Poetry Blog: poems-of-madness.tumblr.com

delicatestrawberrymaker  asked:

Hey Roby! I started school a few days ago and I have AP art studio, I just wanted to ask how you got inspired to paint your pieces, especially for the area of concentration?

hey! first off good luck, hope u enjoy the class and it doesnt stress u too much

i had some trouble at first deciding what my concentration was going to be until my teacher suggested i did one based on a visit i had done recently (well, recently back when i was taking the class) to a japanese garden (i had made a video on it on youtube as well as taken some photography there). 

we both agreed it would be a good concentration since everything in the garden is pretty much related and in a similar theme, and i could fully reference my drawings off screenshots from the video i made and not worry about copyright since i took it myself. 

you’re also gonna want to explain why you chose your concentration and what meaning your drawings have (thats when you get unnecessarily deep and start talking about symbolism and what vibe the pieces give off n all that) so keep that in mind! 

hopefully this helps a bit. i think what worked best for me was having a collection of reference photos beforehand that i could work off from (aka the video), so you could consider doing that

anonymous asked:

Can you do a prompt where Emily and Alison are taste testing for wedding cakes and Ali smears the cake onto Emily mouth. With fluff tho. 😉

i couldn’t do too much with this so it’s a little short, but I loved it thank u!! xx

“Ali, come on I want your opinion” Emily begged her fiancee. They were sat in the courtyard of a club hidden away looking out across the Hudson River, thousands of slice of cake spread out across their table.

“Em, I already told you. Whatever you want you can have it” Ali smiled lovingly as Emily licked her fork clean of the chocolate and raspberry piece she was testing out.

“What I want” She said as she took a bite of the basic Victoria Sponge “is for you to have an opinion” At look on Emily’s face, her bottom lip poking out and the little furrow between her brows that always appeared when she was upset, Ali graciously accepted the fork that Em was handing to her, and she smiled widely when she dug it into a piece of Red Velvet.

“Mmm” Ali mumbled contently as she swallowed it whole “that just sends me back to making cupcakes in Hanna’s kitchen with her and Grandma Marin”

“Right?” Emily said with a grin, her mind taking her back to those lazy Sundays their group would spend at the Marin house, before things had become tricky and Tom had moved out. There was quiet for a minute as Ali took a bit of another piece, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as she indulged in the taste.

“I can’t believe a cake has the same effect on you as I do” Emily said teasingly as she took a bite from the same piece. “Woa” She said in surprise “you’re right this is good”

“Is that finally decision?” Ali said sceptically as Emily took another bite, frosting getting caught at the edge of her mouth.

“I think so” She said without breaking eye contact with the cake and shovelling more and more into her mouth “have some more” She encouraged Ali, who sat watching in disbelief as she had finished almost the entire thing “it’s free”

“You’re so cute” Ali said with a smirk, but Emily either chose not to hear her or was too busy eating to pay attention.

“Eat!” Emily ordered. Ali rolled her eyes, and took a smear of frosting on her finger, quickly wiping it across Emily’s cheek so that she was forced to stop and sit up straighter.

“You are so-” Emily groaned, not bothering to finish her sentence as she took a lump of raspberry frosting and coated it across Ali’s face. The two of them sat frozen in their chairs, daring the other move, their eyes not breaking contact and smirks on both of their faces. Emily was the first to give in, as she slowly took her fingers too her face and wiped the cream off her face.

“You need some help babe?” Ali teased, moving closer to her and her eyes falling to the remaining mess on her cheek. She leaned forwards and pressed her lips to the cream, sucking it off before licking her lips and returning to her seat. Now with nothing left on herself, Emily stood up from her seat and bent over Ali, taking her hand and pulling her up, wiping her finger across her cheek and licking it off.

“Come on” She whispered “let’s get out of here”

anonymous asked:

I'm the anon from before. Wow I like the way you think (superbly). I was thinking of that too (not the abuse part) but pretty much the rest of it. Mycroft did say something about every path and decision he's made is his memory of Eurus, so in a way that does explain a lot. I was actually confused with the music and the sex question by Eurus (her surprised question) Anyhoo thanks for answering. And, please continue writing. I love it.

Thank you <3

I actually have a thought about the music.  Headcanon, really, but I think there’s a strong case for it. Anyway, the music he plays is officially titled ‘Irene’s Theme’ on the soundtracks and in the credits and all that.  BUT.  Nowhere in the show itself is the piece given an actual title, like, say, John and Mary’s wedding music (which I’m too lazy to look up the title of right now, something like ‘Waltz for John and Mary’; it’s written at the top of the sheet music).  Yes, it’s heavily implied that he’s thinking about Irene when he’s composing it and he’s Mr. Sad.  But there’s nothing to say that he’s not thinking about Molly as well and ruminating on remorse and lost opportunities there, too.  So I think that there’s a good possibility that the piece itself is a summation of his feelings about women in general, but mostly Irene and Molly and the things they each make him feel.  He’s trying to understand those feelings through the act of writing the music.

And getting back to the Eurus thing about the music and sex—I find it interesting that he chose that piece when she tells him “play you.”  He might be thinking he could relate musically to his sister, a woman, with a thing he wrote about women.  Or there’s something in that song that’s so deeply ingrained in him that it feels the most like the essence of himself—namely, his heart (*cough*Molly Hooper*cough*).  I think Eurus picks up on the innocence/ bewilderment/ purity of sentiment in the music and that’s why she asks if he’s had sex.  We already know she thinks he’s sweet for being a bit of an idealist in a romance, thanks to his conversation with her as Faith, so it was the perfect opportunity for her to put him off balance.

So yeah, TL;DR, I HC that 'Irene’s Theme’ is just as much about Molly as it is about Irene.  

Don’t Tell Nobody ((Scott)) 2

Part 1 // Part 2 // 

Originally posted by bozrh

The sun peaked in through the window, illuminating the cream colored bedroom.  

Scott shuffled in bed wrapping himself around you, only you weren’t bed.  
His eyes fluttered open as he felt the cold spot.  
He used his keen ears to listen to his surroundings.  
A hiss sound of the shower being turned off, the crumpling sound of the shower curtain opening, wet feet planted onto the ground, and the sweet tone of your voice as you sung softly.  

Scott put his hands on the back of his neck and sighed.  
Last night was truly amazing.  
He got the girl that he wanted for so long.  
Although, under unorthodox circumstances, he was happy.  
The mere thought of your smile makes him smile even wider.  
But when he remembers your naked body, his breath hitches and he’s a little boy again.  
“Am I interrupting your thoughts?”
Scott looked up to see you leaning against the doorway in boy shorts and an oversized shirt.  
He plastered an innocent smile on his face even when he thought about all the dirty things he could do to you.  
You giggled as you ran toward the bed and tackled Scott.  
“I’m not going to school today”
Scott lifted her chin so he could meet her eyes.  
“So what do you want to do then? ”
She shrugged her shoulders.  
“Bake goods? I haven’t made anything in a long time”
Scott thought about for a minute and realized the only thing they have in the house is pasta, leftover pizza, and hot pockets.  
“We don’t have anything to make goods with”
“So we’ll go to my place, problem solved”
You guys grabbed your things and headed straight to your house

Scott’s pov  

“Three teaspoons of sugar”
We decided to go with cookies and cupcakes.  
Mixed together because why not?  
“Now stir it”
While I stirred I couldn’t help but notice her staring at me.  
I looked at her and smiled.  
I couldn’t read her chemo signals because her emotions were so jumbled.  
“You’re not thinking of him, are you? ”
She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked down at the floor.  
After a while she looked back up to me.
“Yeah, but not in the way you think. I’m thinking, why didn’t I do this earlier? Why didn’t I choose you?”
The statement made me smile with glee.  
I pecked her on the lips and give her an Eskimo kiss.  
“Well you chose me now, so no need to think about it anymore”
“I know”

The cupcakes came out good.  
I grabbed the icing from a cabinet and we started decorating.  
She put whip cream on hers and I put buttermilk icing on mine.  
I fed her one and watched the crumbles fall onto her clothes.  
Why was this girl so gorgeous?  
The pieces of Oreo on her lips looked tempting.
It was scattered but pronounced every dip and curve.  
“I dare you to lick icing off your finger”
“You’re not very good at dares”
I picked up the icing and dug my hand in it.
I preceded to lick off all the icing on my hand except the pointer finger.  
Y/N stopped me and brought her lips closer to my finger.  
She slowly slid the whole finger in her mouth all while making eye contact with me.  
She looked down when she started to Bob her head up and down.  
The strange behavior revved me up.  
It brought chills all the way down to my spine.  
I could just feel all the blood being drained from my brain.  
She stopped and smiled at me.  
The next thing I know, flour enters my mouth and the evidence of it being thrown was on her hands.  
Oh it was war.  
I picked up a bowl of flour and tossed it on her.  
Y/N cheated by squirting icing all over me.  
I couldn’t think of what to do next, so I put a handful of whip cream on my hands and slapped her face, gently, with it.  
We laughed for a while at how ridiculous we looked.
Don’t know why, but seeing her all dirty, turned me on.  
I kissed her the same way I kissed her last night.
With desire and a hint of sexual lust.
Y/N wrapped her arms around my neck and jumped up so she could wrap her legs around my waist.
“Fuck me in the shower, Scott”
I gulped and dove for the stairs.
Derek was right, the bite is a gift.
Had I still have my asthma, there would be no way I could carry us both to her bathroom.

Liam’s POV

The steam in the locker room encaptured a large variety of scents.
Stinky socks, gilette shaving cream, axe body spray, worn shoes, and guys.
I stood in front of my locker and checked my phone again.
Y/N hasn’t texted me since last night.
She always sends me a morning text if I don’t send her one.
What’s worse is that she wasn’t at our spot waiting for me like she usually does.
Was I worried? Just a little bit.
I know that if anything bad happened to her, I would be the first she’d call.
She probably just slept in.
A ding went off and I looked at my phone.

Hayden: Last night was great, we should do it again
Liam: Yeah, but we should lay low, Y/N’s been on my back lately
Hayden: I thought you said you were going to break up with her  
Liam: I told you, I’m not going to do that
Hayden: You need to choose Liam, me or that bitch

I couldn’t even text back.
I clutched the phone and in my anger, my eyes began to glow.
Hayden had no right to call her that.
Y/N is my first love, why would I leave her for Hayden?
Sure the sex was great, but that was it.
I love her.
I don’t think I would be able to even function without Y/N.
The bell interrupted my thoughts, pulling me back to the present.
I shoved on a pullover jacket and slung my backpack over my shoulder.

At lunch I sat with the regular crew.
They talked about the deadpool and other suspects.
I pulled out my phone and started texting her.

“Babe, where are you? I miss you here at school”
“Is my little cupcake ((I couldn’t resist)) upset with me? I’m sorry for not calling you back”
“Baabbee, don’t ignore me”

“I wonder where Y/N got that top”.
My head snapped up from my phone, finally listening to the conversation.

Liam: What top?
Lydia: The one she was wearing last night
Liam: Last night? Y/N was at the party?
Stiles: Yeah, didn’t you see her?
Liam: No I thought she stayed home
Lydia: No, I picked her up and we got the house ready for the party
Mason: What’s going on between you two?
Liam: What do you mean?
Stiles: Well let’s see, yesterday she was so distant that she didn’t even eat lunch, she barely paid attention in class, and Lydia had to talk her out of her gloomy trance
Liam: I don’t know, we didn’t get into a fight
Lydia: Well you did something
Liam: Who’d she leave with?
Mason: Scott
Liam: And where is Scott?
Stiles: Home, he said he didn’t feel too good
Liam: Oh, I’ll see you guys later, I have to go see if Y/N’s alright

Before going over to Y/N’s house, I went to Scott’s place.
Melissa opened the door and gretted him with a smile.

Melissa: Liam, what are you doing here?
Liam: I just wanted to talk to Scott
Melissa: Uh, Scott’s not here
Liam: Are you sure? Stiles told me he was
Melissa: Maybe he was just playing a joke on you, I haven’t seen him since yesterday, is everything okay?
Liam: Yeah, maybe you’re right. I think Stiles is just playing around
Melissa: Okay, bye Liam
Liam: Bye Mrs. McCall

He wasn’t home?
That’s weird.
Why would Stiles lie to me?
Whatever, I’ll deal with him later, I have to go talk to Y/N.
I saw Scott’s motorcycle parked in her driveway.
Scott’s here?  
But why would he come over to see Y/N?
I used the second key that was hidden in the fake rock near the plants to get inside the house.
A strong aroma of freshly baked cupcakes permeated the household.
I walked into the kitchen to find it a complete mess.
Flour, whip cream, and frosting was on the floor and on the counter.
It was faint but as I walked near the stairs I could smell Scott and Y/N.
Using my acute hearing, I listened for any sounds.
I could hear the water in the shower running, squeaky tiles, and I swear I heard a moan.
My heart began to race as I continued up the stairs.
I could clearly hear the sound of slapping skin, her silky moans, and a guy’s strained moan.
My body froze as well as my heart.
Scott’s motorcycle is in the driveway, I can smell him, and there’s a man in the shower with her.
The shower turned off and I could hear the glass door open.

~Third Person View~

Y/N stepped out of the bathroom with Scott and giggled.
“Give me back my towel”
“Why? I’ve already seen you naked”

Liam bursts into the room with teary eyes.
It’s true, she slept with Scott.
“How could, how could you?!”
Scott gave Y/N back her towel and allowed her to wrap herself up.
Liam grabbed his chest as his breathing became erratic.
The love of his life was just caught having sex with his Alpha.
The same Alpha who told him to find an anchor; his purpose of living.
The wolf inside him was furious.
His fingernails extended into claws, his facial hair popped out sporadically, his eyes shone brighter than it ever did, and the adrenaline coursing through his veins made him angrier.
He wanted to kill him.
Scott told you to get out because he didn’t want you to see him wolf out.
You closed the door behind you and waited in the hallway. 

“Liam, calm down”
“Calm down?! You just fucked the love of my life!”
Liam threw a desk chair at him then lunged for Scott.
Scott dodged both the chair and Liam and went to a corner in the room.
“She found out about Hayden. She saw you guys having sex”
Liam let out a loud growl and pushed Scott up against the wall.
Scott’s eyes turned red as he kicked him back.
“Don’t make me hurt you Liam!”
“You already did!”
Liam deeply scratched Scott’s face making Scott throw him against the door.
The door broke upon impact, sending Liam to hit the wall in the hallway.
Scott picked him up by the shirt to punch him in face only to have Liam retaliate.
The two fought for a while, destroying vases, picture frames, doors, walls, and the floor.
Y/N tried to break up the fight.
She took a step towards them but a hand covered her mouth and she was dragged into a room.
Luckily she was able to scream before being knocked unconsciuos.
Liam and Scott both halted immeadiately.
Liam widedned his eyes and called for Y/N.
When he heard no anser he looked back at Scott.
The two ran into her mom’s room and saw that the window was opened and a piece of paper was left on the floor.
Scott looked around the room while Liam read the note.
“She’s not here”
Scott looked at a crying Liam.
“What, what did it say?”
Liam handed Scott the note.
He braced himself for what he was about to read. 

Y/N Y/L/N  

Scott: I don’t get it
Liam: What don’t you get?! It’s the deadpool Scott!
Scott: But she’s not –
Mrs. Y/M/N: Yes she is   [Your Mom’s Name]
Liam: Mrs. Y/M/N, I –
Mrs. Y/M/N: Not now Liam. Those bastards have my daughter and we need to get her back before they kill her
Scott: I still don’t understand, why would the deadpool want Y/N?
Mrs. Y/M/N: *sighs*Because, she’s a werewolf 

I could not resist!!! Plot twist on the biggie! 40 likes and I’ll write part 3

The Chess Game

This is my opinion, is where we get to see most of the kind of man Marvin is During Act 1. Whizzer and Marvin are playing chess, and Marvin’s controlling nature shows even though this. He constantly asked Whizzer if he needs his help as well as where he should move his pieces to. Whizzer realizes this at the end of the song and retorts things like ‘how should I behave myself’

I’d like to think as Marvin’s life as a game of chess. He’s always the player in the game, seeking to win and move each of the pieces so he can win the game. He’s playing this game with no one other then himself. Marvin is able to control each piece and move them to where he wants them to be. Before the events of the play, it is obvious that Trina is one of his main pieces that he is in control of. And because Trina is so desperate for love and acceptance (and sex lol) she has no problem meeting every one of Marvin’s demand. He loses Trina as a piece, due to his own choices (which happens in chess sometimes. When you sacrifice a piece for for the sake of making a better move after the piece is captured; which in this case, the piece would be Whizzer. Whizzer is a very different piece than Trina is, and Marvin has a strange fixation with pawns (which are only able to move straight across the board one piece at a time) I like to think of Trina as a pawn both by definition and in Marvin’s game. Just as an example, if Whizzer was a queen (lol), the player obviously has control over its pieces, but it does much more and since it can move any way on the board, it’s more powerful.

Marvin wants Whizzer to be like Trina. He wants Whizzer to resume Trina’s role in his game so he can keep putting on fronts and making everything perfect.

Whizzer then proceeds to tell Marvin how to move his pieces, to which he proceeds to win the game over Marvin with a two move checkmate (Fools Mate; I feel like this name has more irony and that Finn chose this particular setup for a reason)

At the end of the song, Whizzer decides to play his own game because he’s actually good at it.

Marvin can’t take the fact that he’s no longer in control of Whizzer resulting in their subsequent breakup.

HI everyone this week piece was really more of an experiment than going for a good piece. What I was trying to do was paint a low contrast in saturation and color variation, with a pastel pallet. I think the piece has its own charm to it, but I would do thing differently next time. I had to add a black out line to the piece to make lars and lion pop from the background. I chose to paint lars/lion as more guinea pigs for this style. Mostly because I haven't painted pink lars yet and I absolutely adore him.  I can’t wait for more Steven universe to come out uggggg. Pirate lars look so cool, I need to know where his story goes.

Print, stickers, shirts are available here

You can also watch me paint this over here on my youtube

Twin Souls

A/N: Feeling kind of good lately. Actually been able to sit down and write a few things these past few days. This one just kind of came together last night. I hope y’all enjoy it!

Big shout out to @impala-dreamer for being my beta, so seriously thrilled that you didn’t have to rip this to pieces (but I did fine tune it like 3 times before I sent it to you..lol)

Feedback is always welcomed. The good and the bad. Let me know what you think!

So, this piece is for a few challenges including my own challenge, Mama and Angelina’s Fabulous 300 Challenge. Angelina ( @atc74 ) chose the prompts for me from our list. They were:

A character steals something, the emotional theme was agitation, and the song Too Much Time On My Hands by Styx

The other challenges were:

@impalaimagining    Taylor’s 1K Followers Challenge

Prompts: Lie by David Cook, and the GIF at the end of the fic

@nichelle-my-belle   Nichelle’s 4K Angst Challenge

Prompt:  had to have some angst and the quote “With that, she walked into the rain and didn’t look back. That was the last time anyone ever saw her”. Nichelle, I used the quote but had to reword the pronouns, hope that was ok.

@inmysparetime0    300 Murder Challenge

Prompt: well it was a murder challenge, so I had to kill someone.

@mrsbatesmotel53     Mrs. Bates Motel Playlist Challenge

Prompts: There had to be a motel scene and Do You Wanna Touch Me by Joan Jett

PAIRING: Dean x Reader

WARNING: blood, murder, one night stand, unprotected sex, oral (giving, self pleasuring

WORD COUNT: 3600 i think, there about

Mama’s Master List

Forever Tags at the end. And as always, if you wanna be added or removed from my tag list, just let me know

Keep reading

bijou156  asked:

Hi, in Sansa's TWOW chapter it is discussed that for the coming joust she will have to choose someone to carry her favor. Who do you think like possible candidates & why? My headcannon choices would be between Roland & Wallace Waynwood. The reason I included Wallace is b/c Sansa may take some compassion on the guy who is made a laughing stock for his stutter perhaps he can proof-himself to be a good jouster? Perhaps Wallace will find a special strength & courage in him tbc

(like Jorah at the Lannisport Tournment) to beat every opponent so not to disappoint Sansa? Sansa/Alayne who placed unexpected a trust & respect on him like no other before her. LF did tell Sansa that “even the smallest of pieces can have a will of their own” so perhaps might Sansa be able to discern that Wallace has some potential? I don’t think Sansa would chose among LF’s knights but I would be interested to see if she would & why?   Thank you in advance.”

Hiya! I quite like Wallace Waynwood (although really, I love everything about that released “Alayne” chapter from TWOW; it was well worth the ten-year wait), but I don’t think Sansa will bestow her favor upon him.

Remember, Sansa’s goal here is to prick Harry’s ego and make him work harder to earn her affection; making Wallace her champion would not further that end at all. Harry would see right through Sansa’s gambit and feel perversely validated instead of rejected. Moreover, for the baseborn daughter of the most minor of lords to presume to offer her favor to a member of a proud and ancient house might be seen as a mild affront, despite the fact that the local bluebloods (outside Lyn Corbray) all seem to get along quite well with “Littlefinger’s bastard.” As we saw during the duel between Vardis Egen and Bronn, the nobility of the Vale care much more about the chivalric performance of class than they do about individual merit.

So I think Sansa will instead select either Lothor Brune or Shadrich the Mad Mouse. Lothor is an upjumped freerider rejected by his own family; Shadrich is the hedgiest of hedge knights. Favoring one of them would be consistent with “Alayne’s” social standing, yet also provoke Harry’s jealousy. He is the heir to the Vale, must he compete with such nothings for Sansa’s attention?

Lothor makes sense from a Watsonian standpoint. Sansa is very fond of him, and for good reason: he’s among the most thoroughly decent characters in the series.

Shadrich makes sense from a Doylist standpoint. He knows exactly who Sansa is, and will unquestionably attempt to kidnap her in order to earn a reward from Varys. Should he wear her favor and win, it would give him an excuse to get close to her, maybe even alone with her, and seize the opportunity…especially if Littlefinger inadvertently provides him with a distraction by murdering Sweetrobin and framing Ser Lyn.

Hoshidan Festival: Dwyer Special Kimono Image Convo

I (Kiyoshi) know that a lot of people don’t seem to actually use Dwyer that often, but he’s always been my best butler (shhh - don’t tell Jakob) and maxed out as a butler he had the largest stat rating for me (253, including statues) out of all my units. And I do in fact love his personality. He’s actually lazy but he’s also a hard worker with a competitive streak, AND he’s pretty no-nonsense, which I like. Plus he’s exceptionally gentlemanly with women and dishes out heartfelt compliments so casually that it feels genuine. Unlike Laslow, Dwyer actually has a shot of being a ladies’ man if he could just clean himself up a bit more…

Something that surprised me in this translation; when it comes to himself, Dwyer is not shy. If you’ve ever walked into him in the bathhouse as a girl, he just casually mentions that Jakob would get angry but he doesn’t actually care. His sprite doesn’t even bother to stand up. Here, he’s totally fine with letting the Merchant help him change clothes. Which is funny because he freaked out when Soleil did it in their supports. Maybe it’s the difference between his ‘same-aged’ peers and people he considers ‘adults’. 

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insertcaffeine  asked:

Purple ^_^


What’s your astrological sign? 
I’m an aquarius :)

What’s the best piece of advice you ever received? 
Oh wow. I don’t think someone specifically gave me this advice, but to always take care of myself. I am the most important person in my life - if I’m gone, what does anything even matter? I am worthy of good things. 

When’s the last time you followed your instincts? 
Today, actually. I had a rough day and I was supposed to attend a surgery this afternoon (med student, I’m doing my surgery rotation now).. but I chose to not go. I really needed some quiet and room to breathe, so I went to prepare for tomorrow and then took some time to relax in between. 

What’s your favorite food? 
My own home made pasta dish!

What’s your secret dream?
I don’t think I have any secret dreams. I have dreams I talk about a lot (becoming a good doctor, owning a motorcycle, living together with D) and dreams I don’t talk about as much (starting a family, doing charity work as a doctor). I think the most ‘secret’ dream I have is becoming comfortable in my own skin.. since hardly anyone really knows how discontent I am with the way I look now. 

Thanks for the questions dear :)

anonymous asked:

You're really still going to go see a dogs purpose? Even though they abused the dog? I would have thought you'd be pissed, you seem to love dogs

Okay, I guess I’m not really surprised to have gotten this ask when 90% of my dash is apparently boycotting this movie.

I am mad. I’m extremely upset that a dog was treated like anything less than an angel. However, I think people on Tumblr have a hard time letting go of grudges and are sometimes quick to jump to conclusions, so let me tell you why I’m going to see this movie.

Firstly, this is obviously not a widespread problem in the filming of this movie. Since that video was released, multiple people (trainers, crew members, journalists who visited the set) have come forward to defend the movie, saying that the dogs were always treated with love and respect. When you’ve got a lot of credible people defending something they could go down terribly for, it’s a good idea to take a second look at it.

Secondly, the video that TMZ posted is extremely biased, meant to draw attention, and cut in a way that makes it seem much worse than it actually is. That dog was treated badly in this one instance, that is absolutely true: but TMZ didn’t show the whole story. One of the producers (I think? I’m on mobile so I can’t link) came forward to explain the behind-the-scenes of the behind-the-scenes video. The dog (whose name is Hercules, by the way) had previously done the scene in rehearsals flawlessly, and loved it; he loves swimming and previously had been eager to get in the water, and they had safety divers and trainers in the water ready to rush to the dog’s aid in case he had difficulty. In this filming of the scene, they decided to suddenly switch the side of the pool from which the dog was supposed to go in, which is evidently what made him nervous. It’s inexcusable that he ended up being forced into the water, I will acknowledge that. His head went under the water not because trainers weren’t careful, but because he was swimming through a rougher part than he was used to (since he was on the opposite side of the pool) and it caught him off guard. This is also inexcusable, but the take was unfinished; trainers tried to give him a chance to swim it himself, and the moment it was clear he couldn’t (approximately three seconds later) they pulled him out, and he was fine and unfazed. They switched back to the original side of the tank, let him calm down, and he did the take completely fine.

I think that the trainers should have been more careful and paid more attention to Hercules’s emotions and skill, yes. And I will be vocal about that. Universal is doing an investigation into this incident, as is one of the smaller studios working on the film, and I am confident they plan to find out the exact circumstances that led to this.

This movie has the potential to be an amazing, touching film. Often in movies dogs are used as props (they often die simply to advance plot) or are portrayed as vicious killing machines. This film has the potential to accurately represent the kindness and compassion that dogs exhibit, and overall I think this movie can do a lot of good in this world.

I am not going to boycott it because of a biased, edited piece of video from a website which had the footage for months but chose to release it two weeks before the movie’s release. And also, PETA is a shitty organization that in general knows nothing about the lives of the animals it tries to ‘save,’ and I’m not going to boycott a movie just because PETA calls for it.

So yes. I’ve been looking forward to this movie for months. I’m going to go see it, I’m going to trust that investigations will find who is at fault, and I’m going to enjoy the movie and the amazing dogs that acted in it. And I think you should too.

Oh, GOD. I miss your lips pressed against my skin. I’m so hooked I’ve forced myself to feel something for another just to forget you. But, still I can’t forget you. I feel like a cliche even though I am not throwing pebbles at your window or serenading you a sweet song that conjugates my love. I say the wrong things at the wrong times and I stutter. That’s what I do. I find songs that remind me of you and listen to them on repeat. It’s a method of self harm. I cry. I cry when no one is watching and I have cried with everyone around. I have valid reasons. I feel weak when I cry because you have taught me to be nothing but strong and it feels as if I am betraying my own soul. Do I even have a soul? or do you still have it after I loaned it to you last Valentine’s Day. You used to say you loved me. But love means nothing when you cram those words down the throat of any girl who makes you feel special. You are special. But you are not perfect. You opened up my eyes and showed me that it is not okay to treat the ones you love poorly. Although you and I will always be unfinished business, I no longer ponder at my future, and see you in it. I don’t see you in it at all. I remember when you found I used to smoke. You saw it as a nasty habit. You didn’t want to be with someone so vile as to let their lungs fill with chemicals harmful to their body. I quit in a panicked state. I was so afraid of losing you. But, now that you’re gone I’ve taken it up again. It’s the only thing that makes me feel as good as you do. You’re worse than nicotine. And I continually think about you. Damn. I’m in love with you. But you have someone new. Of all the girls in the world you chose her. It’s silly because I want to tell her you’re awful to protect her. I don’t want her to feel like I do. She’s so unaware of your evil. No. Wrong. You’re not evil. Misunderstood, if anything. But you broke my heart. Scattered the broken pieces all over the floor just so I could walk on them and cut the bottoms of my feet open. You used to care; you used to get mad when I anticipated that we wouldn’t be together forever. You promised forever and so did I even though I thought it was so pointless to even do so. When two people meet at such a young age how could they be together forever? I thought maybe a year maybe a little more but that was it. Then. I fell in. You were a warlock, casted your spell on me and made me fall. It was like an endless nightmare. Every fight we showed claws and fangs and growled and screamed. Every afternoon when I got to talk to you and it wasn’t a fight I fell even more and more deep into the trance your spell caused. I loved you. Oh, man, I still do. Every color in your eyes, every beat of your heart; I’m in love with it. And if you still want me to off myself, God damn I’d fucking do it to please you. I need you. Fill me with your venom again. Please fuel my addiction because right now I am going through withdrawal. Kindness is an allusion when it comes to you. And less than a month from now I expect her to run to me with a thousand tears, and cuts in her feet. And all I’ll be able to say is “I told you so”
—  April 15, 2015 // “happy birthday”

You should’ve told me that you weren’t happy, or that I’m becoming too clingy, demanding and possessive. You should’ve sat down with me to talk things through. You should’ve informed me that you are slowly falling out of love. You should’ve told me what is wrong, instead of acting so cold to me all of a sudden. I thought we were okay. It didn’t occur to me that you are slowly slipping out. I wasn’t aware that I’ve become too much of everything for you. If only you’ve told me sooner, we could’ve fixed this together. We could’ve gotten stronger and we could’ve survived this rough patch. But you didn’t. You didn’t tell me what I was lacking and looked for it in a different person. You chose to cheat, rather than help me fix my issues. You chose to play with my feelings, rather than treasure it. You chose to break my heart over another whom you think have all the qualities that I don’t rather than be patient enough to let me grow in your love and become the best version of myself for you. I could’ve loved you better, but you chose to leave.

I wish you a lifetime full of happiness and love with the person you chose over me. Just a piece of advice: if you have problems with your significant other, talk about it with them. Don’t seek another person to fill in what you think is lacking. Don’t break hearts just because you think they aren’t good enough when in reality, they’re giving you everything they have.

—  My last letter to you (m.b)

Here’s a couple mildly terrible pictures of all the THAC Pops I gave to the boys! (with bonus @admiralskywhale in the background of one :P) Click through for some actual decent pictures of each individual Pop, with a bit of detail on how I made each one as well! :O


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