i wanted to make something different and good but it turned out like this

13 Reasons Why controversy

Because the response to 13 Reasons Why has been so controversial, I’d just like to point out some things.

As explained in 13 Reasons Why: Beyond the Reasons, the suicide scene was shown BECAUSE they wanted it to be painful for the audience to watch, as well as the rape scenes. Not because they wanted to be gruesome or inconsiderate, but because it is REALITY for so many people in the world and a lot of people like to pretend these things don’t exist or shield themselves from the reality of it; they ignore it because they’ve never gone through it, so they don’t care so much. So then when they see these scenes, they will be made uncomfortable and see what people are really truly experiencing and that it is not something that should at all be sugarcoated or ignored. IT IS REAL.

Secondly, for those saying it’s disgusting for them to show these scenes, THERE ARE WARNINGS AT THE BEGINNING OF THE EPISODES THAT SHOW RAPE AND/OR SUICIDE TO NOT WATCH IF IT WILL AFFECT THE VIEWER IN ANY WAY. These warnings are given specifically so that if you are not comfortable watching or believe it would cause a trigger, you should not even watch. So the fact that people are bashing the show for showing these scenes in relation to them being a trigger, the warnings are already made very clear in the beginning. They did take this step to make sure it wouldn’t just pop up and be any sort of triggers. The producers knew very well to be wary of that.
The show also worked with a lot of psychiatrists, psychologists, and leading experts in teen-suicide prevention. Though this still may not be enough for you to think they did everything right, they again did have the warnings. They are very aware that it could cause triggers and put some people in danger, but THAT IS WHAT THE WARNINGS ARE FOR. DO NOT WATCH IF IT COULD DANGER YOU. VIEWER’S DISCRETION IS ALWAYS ADVISED.

THE SHOW WAS NOT CREATED FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES. IT IS TO SPREAD AWARENESS FOR ALL THE ISSUES (suicide, rape, bullying) AND POINT OUT HOW LITTLE THE SIGNS CAN BE AND HOW MUCH MORE CAREFUL AND HELPFUL EVERYONE IN THE WORLD NEEDS TO BE TO THE PEOPLE AROUND US. As also talked about in Beyond the Reasons, they want to promote teaching boys the proper ways to approach a girl and gain permission to become intimate with her, always getting the YES to teach boys respect for women. This is very important because as most people know, it has always been extremely hard for rape victims to get help because of the “what were you wearing” “were you flirting” “did you lead him on” “did you directly say no” arguments that are so wrongfully executed—instead, 13 Reasons Why knows that this is an issue, as somewhat shown in the scene with Mr. Porter as he questions Hannah. So in the after show, they speak about how parents need to be teaching their children more about consent and less about just protecting yourself, covering up, etc. They are aware that the real issue is with proper consent, and that is a very important message to get across.

Coming from someone who has battled depression and suicidal thoughts and attempts, I must also point out that EVERY SINGLE PERSON, EXPERIENCES, THOUGHTS, REACTIONS, ETC ARE DIFFERENT. What one person suffering depression thinks may be different than another. Hannah Baker’s story is very unique in many ways yet also extremely relatable in many ways to many, many people and girls around the world. JUST BECAUSE YOUR STORY MAY BE DIFFERENT DOES NOT MEAN HERS IS INCORRECT OR LESS/MORE THAN ANOTHER’S. There are a lot of people who can relate to feeling as though you are NOTHING and of no worth to the people around you, just a burden that only disappoints everyone and makes their lives worse. This is a very real state of being and depression and feeling of complete worthlessness that people can reach in their lives, especially some young teenage girls, like Hannah Baker, and even myself, that will lead to suicidal thoughts, attempts, or completely following through with, like Hannah. They believe the world and their loved ones would be better off without them. Again, as someone who has attempted suicide as a teenager and worked for years to fight depression and overcome it, I can say that while the suicide scene did make me uncomfortable and was extremely painful to watch, I was not offended. I knew of the warning at the beginning of the episode, read it, and continued to watch because EVERYONE HANDLES THESE THINGS DIFFERENTLY. I UNDERSTOOD the purpose of including the scene and making it so graphic and realistic. IT’S REALITY, THIS IS HAPPENING TO PEOPLE EVERYDAY AND IT SHOULD NOT BE SUGARCOATED OR SHIELDED FROM THE WORLD; it needs to be made more AWARE OF by those who like to turn a blind eye to it, but it is exposed WITH WARNING. So again, if some feel as though a scene like this would be a trigger, IT IS ADVISED YOU DO NOT WATCH. Everyone is affected differently and they did not just insert it with no consideration for the affect it could have on those battling the same wars as Hannah.

To say Clay was an easy solution and could have saved Hannah by loving her—no, he could not have saved her by just loving her, that is not what this story is even saying. Hannah does explain at the end of her last tape as she exits the school that some people cared, but she felt it was only mediocre, not enough for her to want to stay and feel NEEDED and truly LOVED. So no, they are not saying Clay could have kept her alive by simply loving her, or that love can save someone, it is much more complex than that. What they are saying is that people can care, but not showing how much they truly care can affect someone in the ways it affected Hannah. It was not just one boy’s love that could have saved her, but the love and care of many people, for them to show that they truly cared about her being alive and DID NOT see her as worthless, an object, just another person on earth. She needed to feel as though they NEEDED her to stay, that they genuinely cared about her as a person and that her life was truly worth something, because she did not feel it was. When Clay says he could have kept her alive if he wasn’t so afraid to tell her he loved her, he simply means he could have given her a sense of hope, a sense of belonging on the earth, that someone truly, whole-heartedly valued her life and her as a human being, not an object.

The actress who plays Jessica also explained that she reached out to a family member who is an actual rape survivor, and she stated that she was pleased that the show was “not shying away from the ugliness” of these scenes because viewers will see what these people really go through–again, another topic that is usually sugarcoated and instead needs to be addressed.

13 Reasons Why is a unique way of telling the story of a teenage girl who committed suicide, and the reasoning for bringing it to screen was MOSTLY to promote awareness and shine light on things that are not talked about enough that the youth suffers every single day, things adults see as “normal teenager struggles,” “small stuff,” “it only feels like the end of the world and really isn’t,” etc. This show is being spread more than even expected, and that is a very good thing for those who are in need of help and have parents or peers that once ignored their problems and will now tend to them.


**an issue cannot be tended to/made aware of/more properly prevented if it is just sugarcoated rather than slapped in people’s faces (those who don’t realize how severe it is) like this show does. it can really change things and leave an impact.

**if you are at risk for triggers and do not feel you are currently healthy enough to watch this show, please take care of yourself and do not watch. or, skip episodes 9, 12, and 13 and read up on them instead. these are the episodes that can be triggers for those at risk, if you weren’t yet aware.

**also feel free to stop by my inbox and talk to me if you need someone to talk to, or just would like to speak more on the subject.

anonymous asked:

Yo could you share some of your headcanons for the deh kiddos :O ?! I'm really curious!!

*cracks knuckles* HEADCANONS UNDER THE CUT (these are generally feel-good and going off of a Connor Lived And Everything Gets Better AU set of ten [+ one extra] headcanons for the kids where they’re all friends)

Keep reading

I’m tired of being sad and having no clue as to why I am this way, so I’ll write about the happy bits of me and why I smile. I dance when I’m alone, when the music gets just right and I’m sure that no one is watching, it’s okay to feel lonely, I used to not like the idea of it, but once you’re comfortable in your own skin even depression starts to feel like a breeze. I’m reading a book that says we are the beliefs and thoughts that we think and believe in. So if I say that I’m happy a thousand times, one of those will come back as true. So if I say I’ll find the love of my life some day, some day she’ll appear in front of me while I’m writing another poem. It’s good to have goals, the only goal I’ve ever had up until recently was to keep myself happy with someone else, that’s not a goal, but an illusion. You can’t live your life for someone else, it’s called your life for a reason. Happiness must happen when I say so, so I’m saying so. We bring into this world the kind of kindness that we’ve been dealt, so when I fake a smile, my mother is omnipresent. Although it’s not real, fake it until you make it, right? The book also says, spend more time doing things that make you lose track of time, so I decided to write again and more often than not, to not compare myself to others because once you start doing that, there’s no going back. I don’t write like someone else, I write like myself. I don’t think like anyone that I know, there’s just you and the beautifully twisted world, we’re all trying to find redemption inside of coral skies and trustworthy friends. I would break my own hand to contain my anger, it is contained. Happiness is what we make it, so if I say that it exists, then it will be so. Listening to your guidance, that makes me happy. You know who you are. Breathless to the words, you paint the sunrise with your pinky and promise that as long as I’m here today, tomorrow will not be filled with sorrow. I keep writing letters to the future person that I will be, I wonder if I’ll change. I probably will, we all do in one way or another. I’m the kind of person that snaps a picture of the sky while I’m driving, I’m reckless, but we’re still alive. Life’s too short and I need to be more careful, I’m certain that death has given up a few passes for me. Do you ever feel like you’re running out of time? Like there’s something trying to make a statement, a lost word that even google couldn’t even get its hands on. Do you ever feel like no one’s really listening? We’re all selfish in the end, but the ones that truly listen– they are the ones that I live for. I maintain online friendships better than I do with my siblings, I guess our thinking is just on different frequencies. On the topic of frequencies– the you that you would like to be is out there, you just need to listen. Hear the right words said by the right person and you’ll be in the right spot to be the you that you’d want to be in this life. Do you ever feel like you’re not good enough? Remember that thing I said about thoughts? Sometimes we just need to let go a little bit, embrace the art of it. To be left to the wind, the unknown will bring us to more adventures and you may not be loved by many, but there’s a chance that you will be– why not take it? I would like to break out of this, I want to smile more and to laugh a little louder, I just want to make myself proud of who I will be versus who I used to be. And you can’t turn back the hands of time, you cannot change your mistakes– they are permanent, but you are not. There is a fire inside of your chest and if you keep suffocating yourself with an indescribable pain then you’ll only suffer in a incomprehensible way. I just want to fill this world with more love and less pain, I see a butterfly and I’m easily distracted– how beauty will fly past you if you’re not even paying attention because you’re so damn sad all of the time. So I drop all signs of negativity and lean towards the positive, I am the only vibe that’ll alter my moods, so I must feel more wealthy than a million silver spoons even if I don’t have any, so I must create the art that likes to spill from my fingertips, we live such short lives– why not be the best version of yourself? Who will you be if tomorrow was your last day on this planet? Will you cry because it’s over? Or will you search the ends of the earth until you’ve found the fountain of youth? I’ve got a secret to share with you. You can be a 100 years old and still have the sweetest smile, you can be in your 20s and have a soul heavy enough to sink the titanic, life is strange, life is strange. We live our youth to buy pretty things, but live our oak days trying to make up more time– it waits for no one, the wrong turn will break you, a simple kiss will turn your thoughts into poetry and a life of self-hate is a road that needs constant validation– why not be your own way out? Be your own lover, be your own brand of music, be your own kind of poem, be your own story of kindness, and if you’re not perfect just look around– nobody is. I’m tired of dreaming, I want to build it instead. You can’t be who you want to be if you’re still having the same thoughts from last year– you can’t change or heal in the right way if you’re not willing to break a few pieces of your heart because the clutter inside of our minds often match the attitude that we give off. So like a quote, so like a poem, so like a bedtime story. If I repeat it enough times, I’ll be happy. I just want to be happy. I just want to let go of the bad feelings. I just want to love myself enough to see a brighter day. You can’t change the world if you can’t even change yourself, right? If I repeat it enough times, then it must be real. I will be happy. Sadness is a crucial emotion because without it, being delighted and euphoric wouldn’t be so dense, but that’s the beauty of the intensity to which we should love ourselves. I want to be so fucking glad to wake up today that it’ll just drown my depression into the white noise. I want to glow in the dark and live like the jellyfishes, give my poetry the immortality to always bring a smile onto the faces of those that love who I am even if I’m a bit flawed because at the end of the day– you’re the only one sleeping on your bed, you’re the only one who’s going to determine if you’ve got enough room to breathe, you’re the only one to have the last say if you’re art or not.
—  I wanted to write something happy for you–
yes, you. The person that’s reading this.
Cheap Thrills (reader x Bucky Oneshot)

Characters: reader, Natasha, Sam, Clint, Tony, Bucky, OC Mark. 

Summary: A bet within the Avengers becomes a battle of the sexes, with you at the center of it. Who will be victorious and could it somehow help you snag the man of your dreams? 

Song Inspiration: Cheap Thrills by Sia

Warnings: drinking, sexist behavior? Mild violence mentioned, very subtle mention of sexy times. 

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: This was supposed to be a short one, but eh. I’ve been living in the land of heavy angst with You are My Heaven and intense stress in my real life so when this fun, fluffy idea popped up, I ran with it. I’m working on a lot of other stuff so be patient, please! As always, I appreciate your feedback. Love each and every one of you!! 

Masterlist

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Originally posted by luvinchris

“Uh uh. No way.”

“It’s true, trust me.”

“You wanna bet?” Clint challenged the redhead across the table from him.

Natasha leaned forward and held his gaze, not an ounce of doubt in her demeanor. “Absolutely.”

It was too early in the morning for this childish banter, you thought from your seated position at the far end of the long kitchen table. You slumped forward, dipping the tea bag in and out of the steaming mug of liquid before you, then setting it on the small saucer beside it. Wrapping your hands around the cup’s warmth, your eyes unfocused as you continued to tune out the blathering of your teammates. The only other person in the room paying them no mind was Bucky, who was slouched in a cozy chair, thoroughly engrossed in a book.

“Now wait a minute,” a third voice joined the argument, “If we’re gonna do this, we gotta level the playing field a little. Nat could do this in her sleep. We need someone a little more…down to earth. How about Y/N?” Sam gestured toward you.

Blinking a few times, you finally broke out of your stupor. “Hey! I was only half listening to your stupidity, but I think I’m offended.”

Keep reading

Get Out.

Originally posted by tess453

Peter Parker x Reader

Request: Yes

Summary: Deciding to stay in for a date, Peter and the Reader are faced with annoying and embarrassing comments from the whole team, who are unaware of their relationship.

Word Count: 2,428

Warnings: language, fluff, annoying avengers (??), embarrassed!Peter, embarrassed!Reader, cuteness, LOTR trilogy. (Let me know if I missed any)

A/N: Alright homies, I apologize it has taken me so long to upload something. I’ve been reaally stressed. So hopefully this is okay? For the anon that requested this, I hope you like it. I’d love some feedback, as always. Enjoy reading!


Dark, gray clouds blocked any source of light from shining through the big, thick glass windows surrounding every inch of the building.

The entire tower was filled with a solemn mood that spread into every corner and room.

Most of the team dreaded days like these, since it put a damper on their mood, (especially Steve).

You, however, cherished days like these the most.

It’s where you find your peace and inner self, no matter how depressing that may sound.

It helps you relax and release any stresses that corrupt your thoughts.

But the best reason of all is that you don’t have to leave the house, even if you had a date with Peter tonight.

However, thinking that idea through, you realized something.

The whole team would be here.

With Peter and you.

During your date.

Well, fuck.

Keep reading

I don’t even know. I was taking a walk today and this idea popped into my head. I swear I’m still writing the bookstore AU, too. Also, *pops confetti*, I hit 2k followers today! Who ARE all you guys? Anyway, this fluff/ridiculousness is for you. ~1.6k words, rated G. Sterek, of course.

now also on AO3

The whole thing starts with Stiles really, really craving a meatball sub from the place across the street.

“God, someone shut him up,” Erica groans. They’re all kind of at their breaking point by now; they’ve been camped out in this meeting room all day, brainstorming. “He’s been talking about the same goddamn sandwich for seven and a half minutes now, and it’s making me hungry.”

“If only our ad campaign were about sandwiches, Stilinski would have it in the bag and we could all go home,” Isaac sighs.

From across the table, Derek rises abruptly to his feet and storms out. (Or maybe it’s just that Stiles always interprets everything Derek does as stormy. With those eyebrows, it’s hard not to.)

Stiles assumes he’s just gotten so fed up with them all that it’s either storm out or kill someone, and he’s just grateful Derek chose Door Number 1. It’s a good day not to get killed by Derek Hale.

Only, fifteen minutes later he comes back in. With a paper bag from the deli.

As soon as he gets within grabbing distance, Stiles practically collapses across the table in his haste to reach for it. “Oh my god, is that what I think it is?”

Derek holds it up over his head. “Who says this is for you? Maybe all your talk inspired me to go get a meatball sub of my own.”

“Oh, please. Like anyone with your abs eats meatball subs.” Stiles leaps to his feet on his swivel chair—because screw safety, Derek will catch him if he starts to topple over—and snatches the bag out of Derek’s grip. Derek doesn’t fight him for it very hard.

“Why don’t I get a meatball sub?” Erica whines, thumping her head down on her notebook. “Doesn’t anyone love me?”

Derek shrugs and takes his seat again. “You didn’t ask.”

“You just like Stilinski better,” she grumbles, and Derek just shrugs again.

Meanwhile, Stiles rips into the bag and takes a huge bite out of the gloriousness that is this sandwich. He can’t help throwing in a few theatrical moans just to taunt Erica, and she suitably rewards him with a glare of death across the table.

“Mmm,” Stiles says. “Derek, I love you so much, dude. Marry me.”

Instead of the grumpy eyebrows he expects, Derek meets his eye, leans back smugly in his chair, and says, “Okay.”

Keep reading

Sick of Losing You

Plot: Harry and Y/N lost each other when he found someone else.

Warnings: None aside that it kinda broke my heart.

Playlist to the one shot: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL2S-tehb1XqDqkmE4xnz7-SciJy61soVf

Thanks to @interfectorems for being such a good friend, supporter and for requesting this. 
Songs that are mentioned but not on the playlist are “Out of the Woods” by Taylor Swift & “If You don’t Know” by 5Sos.

Pic of this beauty isn’t mine.

I watched from a far how he held on to her hand, his fingers grasping and squeezing hers gently while his eyes never left her pretty face. He watched her speak with such an intensity in his green eyes, as if he literally saw nothing other than her. His girlfriend. Not me.
I took a deep breath, swallowed the thick lump building in my throat and turned away from the sight.
Exactly three weeks ago, Harry and I had shared a kiss. Our first kiss, which had been exactly how I’d secretly always wished for it to be. Of course it had been. Every time you get to kiss the person you love is special and like fireworks painting colors into the sky.

He’d been talking and listening to me all night, similar to how he now was with her and had at some point reached out to hold my hand, just like he was holding hers in this moment.
When the time felt right, he’d leant in and had captured my lips with his. Needless to say, Harry was a phenomenal kisser. He knew when to press further, when to use how much tongue and was very attentive to how my body responded to his. Whenever I thought about it now, my cheeks tingled with the memory of his hands cupping them gently as he cradled my face to keep me close. He’d been so soft, so perfect. Harry had touched me with a tenderness, I thought it’d break my heart. I remembered wrapping my arms around his neck and feeling like they belonged there, like I was meant to hold him close.
Only that I wasn’t. The girl he was with now only proved how insignificant I was.

I couldn’t help peaking and looking over at him again. Harry’s lips. I knew exactly how they felt when pressed against my own, knew their taste and shape. Their warmth. Harry’s touch was impossible to forget.
I watched him kiss his girlfriend with a mesmerized stare, before moving away and into the kitchen, leaving the small gathering of our friends with a murmured excuse that I needed to get a refill of my drink, when in reality I couldn’t bear seeing the man I loved sharing affectionate kisses with someone else.
But not even the kitchen was a safe area for me. t had been this exact kitchen, the one in Harry’s house, where he’d pulled me aside and told me about her for the first time.

“It’s difficult” I think he said. “It’s my fault that this situation has become so messy.”

Was it silly that I could actually still remember every word he spoke to me? That I’d engraved every pause, every take in of breath he made, deeply into my head?

“Listen, Y/N… You’re important to me. I care about you. Need you, it’s just… There is someone. Someone who could be a chance for a relationship and I really want to give this a go. Give her a go, I mean. You can understand that, right?”

At first it’d felt like none of it was real. Because how could he be serious?
Harry. My best friend, Harry.
Only three days after our magical first kiss, three days full of us talking and flirting and texting constantly, he was telling me that he wanted someone else. Her name was Ira. And though he was seemingly behaving the same way with her he had been with me, we weren’t the same. In fact, she was everything I wasn’t. So when he told me he wanted her and not me, that he was picking her over of me, how come I’d been surprised?

I would never be his first choice, not when there were thousands of others he could choose from. And it was time for my brain to learn to not interpret every kind gesture, time to learn to stop overthinking every word. It was time for my head to accept, that there was no way Harry Styles could possibly want me.

So… I had been understanding. Kind even.
I’d lied and told him that yes, I agreed that our kiss had been a mistake. We shouldn’t have done any of that and instead thought of our friendship first, rather than our impulses. I’d kept a smile on my face throughout the entire talk and even finished the short chat by wishing him good luck with her. Another lie.

My fingers shook and so I set the empty glass of my drink down quickly, worried for a moment that I might otherwise spill the last few drops. I didn’t think much when I reached for the bottle of vodka on the counter. There was no getting through this night if I didn’t have something proper to drink. If only I remembered the recipe….

“Need help?”

My shoulders tensed. It couldn’t be him. Please… anyone, literally anyone, but him.

However when I turned around, Harry was there. He stood tall and beautiful, his short hair soft and wavy. Harry’s compelling eyes held my gaze with such a tender rawness in them, my knees weakened. All my body burned for was to wrap my arms around his shoulders and have him embrace me, have him tell me that everything would be okay again. I felt like I needed it, but knew that this was a wish I would be denied. Harry must have felt it, too. It was in the air around us. It had changed and… buzzed. As if being in each other’s presence made the world halt still for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” Harry chuckled lowly when I didn’t say anything. How could he smile like everything was alright?

And what was it he was apologizing for? Abandoning our friendship? Ruining any hope I’d had to find a partner in him? Shattering my heart? Hardly.

“For scaring you,” Harry elaborated, a sudden hint of guilt in his eyes, almost as if he’d read my thoughts.

“It’s fine, Harry,” I muttered, bearing a false smile, “All good.”

It was hard to look at him. Especially his eyes. They burned a whole into my chest whenever my own orbs found them. They reminded me of the Harry he once was, the one I could always come to and rely on.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, his head nodding towards the bottle of vodka. His forehead furrowed in a worried expression and I quickly set the container back down.

“I wanted to make myself a drink, but the recipe slipped my mind. I’m not as much of an alcoholic as it must look like.”

“Good to know,” Harry chuckled, then, visibly thinking about it first, took a step forward. “I remember what you like in your favorite drink. Could make you one.”

From how close he was standing, it was easy to notice every detail of his skin. Every curve of his lips, every hair of his barely-there beard. My stomach turned.

“That’d be nice.”

Harry smiled and nodded. “Okay.”

We avoided any touching. I was leant against the counter, he stood with a safe distance between us and only came closer when he needed a different ingredient that happened to be near me. It was awkward and… weird. It didn’t feel like ‘us’. The friends we’d been once seemed to be two completely different people. I knew him and felt he was familiar, but there was a emotional distance between us I knew neither of us could overcome. And still, I was with him and even if we behaved like strangers, being with Harry was nice.

“I think that’s it,” Harry said, breaking the silence. His eyes were set on the pink-orange liquid in my glass, then they drifted to my face. A proud smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

“You 'think’?” I challenged shyly.

I took the glass from him (cautious not to touch his fingers) and took a sip. It tasted great.

“M'not big of a show off,” Harry grinned, “S'it good?”

I nodded and stirred the colored liquid once more. “Thanks, Harry.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” His voice was soft and his gaze shy.

The air around us shifted once more. My eyes teared up. What had happened to us? Harry and I… we used to be the kind of friends who didn’t stopped talking to each other for hours. At first, we’d be loud. We’d laugh and giggle so much eventually both of our tummies hurt. That was when we’d change the subject and speak more quietly, until several hours later our conversations drifted to topics only we were allowed to hear. Then we’d be whispering and sitting closer together, always an eager sparkle in the other’s eyes as we both listened with interest about what was being said.

I quickly turned away and pretended to yawn. My eyes blinked rapidly and I willed them not to cry in front of him. Not because of embarrassment, but because I couldn’t do that to him. I’d given him my okay. I had no right to be mad at him for having found someone else. Harry remained standing close and with his hands in the front pockets of his black jeans.

“I think I should go,” I muttered.

I held my head low and took a deep breath before looking at him briefly. Harry’s eyes held concern and his fingers twitched, as if he longed to reach out for me.

“Y/N, love,” he began lowly, “Do you think we could talk for a bit? S'been a while since I got to see you. Hear your voice. I missed you.”

This time when my eyes met his green orbs, I didn’t look away, even though I could feel the tears forming and coming closer to spilling over. Harry’s whole expression changed. His cheeks paled and his forehead furrowed deeper.

“I miss you, too, Harry,” I admitted, my weak voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” he mumbled, shaking his head slowly, sorrow deeply set in his eyes. His feet stepped closer and his warm hands touched my flushed cheeks before I even had the chance to back away from him. The unexpected closeness caught me off guard and had more tears coming, this time because of how much I hated how uncommon this sort of care from him had become.

Harry embraced me. His head buried itself into my neck and both arms wrapped themselves around my waist so he could lift me up from my feet. “Please no, Y/N, Sweetheart. Don’t cry.”

I couldn’t help it. My heart, the final bit that had been whole still, broke in his caring hands and I was overcome and pulled under a wave of grief. That was what I was doing. I was grieving our friendship and the lost hope I’d had for a relationship with him. And he allowed it. He let me cry against his collarbones without any complaint and instead began to hum quietly, knowing how much his voice always soothed me. Pain shot through my chest. He probably did the same when she was upset.

“I can’t-” I cried, but got cut off by my lungs that burned with need for air.

Harry hushed me, his hold tightening, “Don’t, Y/N. It’s going to be alright.”

I shook my head and loosened the hold I’d taken around his neck. My hands momentarily brushed his soft hair, then I pulled away. Harry hesitated but allowed me to step out of his hold.

“I can’t take it anymore, Harry,” I confessed, my voice breaking halfway through the sentence. I reached up to brush my cheeks with the end of my sleeve and hiccuped. My head felt numb and I knew if I didn’t get out of this kitchen soon, he’d witness a break down I wasn’t comfortable with him seeing.

Harry’s hand reached for my arm. I didn’t fight it when he pulled me closer to him, but avoided his eyes when he leaned down to find my gaze.

“Y/N,” he spoke, his voice rough with emotion, “I promise you, it’ll be alright. M'not leaving, okay? M'not. We’ll figure this out.”

I wanted to scream but all I could was shake my head rapidly. “Figure this out how? What have we become, Harry?”

Another sob wrecked through my chest.

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “But we’re going to find each other again, okay? I promise. Let me say goodbye to the others and then we’ll go for a walk or something. We’ll talk. About everything and nothing at all… Just like we always used to, yeah?”

Used to. So long ago, it seemed.

“Okay,” I whispered, my burning eyes set on my feet. My skin shivered under his warmth and my lips hurt from how much I was bitting them.

I flinched when his mouth pressed a kiss to my head. The skin was left with a burning sensation. “Wait for me here, love.”

Harry’s quick feet carried him out of the kitchen and left me standing by the counter with my heart at the pit of my stomach. I stood up straight and brushed the few remaining tears from my cheeks. My skin tingled and I felt the hint of a smile on my lips, even though my body ached.
Looking back now, I wish I would have stayed put by the counter and had waited for him just like he’d asked me to. I wish I hadn’t been impatient and eager to reunite with Harry, because that eagerness drove me to exit the kitchen shortly after him and turn the corner, allowing me clear view into the living room.
There he stood. His arms around her thin form, his hands in her long hair and his lips kissing hers. All air was knocked right out of me. I could see how his hands gently moved against her neck, bringing her in closer and their bodies flush together. When their lips parted for a moment, I could see how he let his tongue run along his lower lip, as if he wanted to make sure he got all of her taste. And I could see him smile warmly at her, right before he leaned back in to connect their mouths once more. This sight… it burned.
I didn’t wait for him. Because I had been wrong before. My heart wasn’t truly broken until that moment, witnessing the man I loved with my everything, kissing a woman who wasn’t me. And if he wasn’t going to leave me, if he was just going to keep me close and allow my heart to shatter over and over again, then I supposed I would have to be the one to go first.
So that’s what I did. I walked back to the entryway, slid on my jacket, picked up my bag, and left the house. Left, to never come back to Harry Styles.

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Paper Hearts Finale

Originally posted by tbhobi

Genre: Angst/fluff

♡ Pairing: Reader x Jungkook // Reader x Jimin

♡ Length: 6.4k

♡ Summary: It has been nearly a year since you started writing anonymous letters to Jungkook, giving him words of encouragement behind the thin mask of a paper. He never considered you as a possible suspect behind these letters, because you were nothing more than a best friend. And you couldn’t put all the blame on him either, after all, you were too afraid to confess in fear of tarnishing your precious friendship.

1  ♡2  ♡3  4  5  6  7  8 9 ♡10 ♡11 ♡12 ♡13 ♡14 ♡15 ♡Finale
♡JK ♡JM

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The 1 Element Your Flawed Character MUST HAVE

If you’re a reader, you’ve probably experienced this before: you pick up a book, it seems pretty interesting, you nonchalantly decide to read it – “whatever, might be good” – and then … 

A paperback explodes life as you know it.  

Encountering a book like this can give life sudden clarity, it can change the way you look at the world, it can help you overcome something and grow, it can give you new purpose, it can inspire you to change your life, it can transform your future. By the time you’ve finished that book, it has become a part of your life – and will probably remain that way forever. (*Holds up my battered copy of Narnia as evidence*)

This magical experience is pretty much the ultimate goal for a reader. But if you’re a reader AND a writer, the fulfilling moment is inevitably marred by one depressing thought:  

“I’ll never write anything that good.”  

To which I say:

I beg to differ, little discouraging voice. With dedication and persistence, anyone can write a story that will be deeply meaningful to a reader. 

The trick? It needs to be deeply meaningful to the writer first. 

If a writer is going to give a reader a life-altering piece of knowledge, that means the writer already has that knowledge to give. We have all experienced things worthy of a story. We are all characters, journeying through arc after arc, becoming better or worse. From living these stories, we learn and see things more clearly, just as protagonists do. Which means we have something to say, something to write about, something to give. 

But to do so, we have to shoot for art.

The word art seems terribly vague, unattainable, and intimidating. But I don’t think it has to be. By “art” I’m going by the definitions given in two of my favorites quotes about writing (writing is art, so these apply): 

“Art is born when the temporary touches the eternal.” – G K  Chesterton

and

“…It is an art. It is the best of all possible art, a finite picture of the infinite.” – N D Wilson  

Both quotes state the same thing, in different ways. Art is about depicting and communicating something true, something universal, something everlasting about life and humanity, through something tangibly created. A definition which sounds an awful lot like the definition of metaphor: “a thing regarded as representative or symbolic of something else, especially something abstract.” Which sounds a lot like storytelling, because story IS metaphor. It’s life, condensed and magnified, all of its components there for a specific reason – to represent and convey some deeper meaning. So storytelling is naturally suited to being art. Which is good news for writers.

But it can also mean trouble. Storytelling is proven to be one of the most powerful teaching methods there is; a story actually has the power to get into someone’s head and heart and change everything, because to a reader’s mind the events on the page are actually happening. They’re living another life, a life that seeks to prove whatever the author wants to say. So writers have a responsibility to make sure the meaning of their story is true, morally and logically. 

BUT HOW DOES THIS ALL RELATE TO THE MAIN CHARACTER?!

Your main character is flawed, both in ways that only hurt themselves, and in ways that hurt others. These flaws are causing them to ruin their own lives. If they don’t awaken to this unwelcome truth about themselves, they will be lost. What happens to them over the course of the story, as they go after their singular goal, is going to apply pressure to these flaws until someone new – and most of the time, better – is made. The journey will teach them something, and that knowledge will enable them to overcome their weaknesses and forge a better life. 

And I bet you can guess what that story will teach them. That thing that is deeply meaningful for you, so meaningful you want to share it with readers? Yup, that’s what your main character is going to learn.

It’s going to be the SOLUTION to their inner problems. When it comes to characters, the meaning can be wrestled into three parts, adding up into one concise sentence. 

1) To achieve *a better state of being*

2) One must *moral and mental requirement*

3) Or else *the inner stakes*

To see how this works, let’s look at a fairy tale, the most straightforward example of this concept: 

Let’s see Cinderella (the live-action 2015 version). 

The meaning of the movie is summed up in this scene, and the story seeks to prove it throughout: 

“Have courage and be kind… It has power, more than you know. And magic.”

The story revolves around this notion, and everything seeks to represent it and prove it, in true Fairy Tale fashion.  

So in one line, that Ella’s arc proves: To achieve victory over abusers, one must hold onto their courage, kindness, and goodness no matter what – or else succumb and turn into someone like them. 

Exemplified in her last words to her stepmother, that truly defeat her forevermore:

So! Constructing these sentences can help give our flawed characters a destination to motor towards. Which makes writing their arcs much easier. And maybe we can construct a character arc and story that will become one of those magical reading experiences for a reader. And then, maybe one day, we’ll get letters from our reader, telling us exactly what our stories gave them and how it has saved their life in some small way (or maybe not so small way.) 

If finding a book like this is ultimate goal of a reader, I think getting a letter like that is the ultimate goal for a writer. 

Well, there’s my motivation. Time to go figure out what the heck I want my book to say. 

Hair, Sex, and Make-up

Being the youngest hair and makeup artist for the idol boy group BTS was your dream. Since you finally got to achieve it things were great and although it was hard being the youngest on the crew you knew that they loved you. You became close to the boys, but more so to Jungkook since you were the same age. However it seemed like things were going to change.

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 6k


Originally posted by officialwookkibby



“Yah, ___. Can you grab my makeup bag for me?”

“Yes, unnie.” You frowned in concentration and looked at Yoongi apologetically before running across the room and grabbing the forgotten make-up bag. Being the youngest hair and makeup stylist for the idol group BTS had it’s ups and downs. The boys loved you and you were close to many of them but the older girls bossed you around a lot.

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Sinful. (M)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader
Genre: Smut, smut, smut (with some fluff bc it’s chimchim).
Word count: 5.4k

Summary: In which painting a naked Park Jimin escalates and takes an interesting turn.

WARNING: sub!jimin, teasing, babygirl kink, light choking, dom!reader, handjob, dirty talk etc. just straight up filth ok brace yourselves and prepare some holy water - Reader Discretion is advised.



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vygyvettecarinma  asked:

While reading your Gaston headcanons and just imagined where he picks you up to carry you across a large puddle, only for him to trip on a loose stone. Oops, both of you are covered in mud now. Fluff ensures...?

I said no but i couldn’t stop mySELF.

Originally posted by good-gay-sherlock

Title: Muddy.
Pairing: Gaston x Female!Reader.
Words: 3,104.
Rating: T.


It had just rained not ten minutes ago, and vendors were already back on the street. Some didn’t even bother protecting their produce and products and let the rain do what it wanted. It wasn’t the typical gentle sort of rain either, it was a consistent downpour that wasn’t expected by anyone in the village. You had sought shelter under a small patio of a neighbor as it happened on your way to get some eggs. As a result of the heavy rain, the Earth now smelt clean and fresh. It was a soothing scent, one that made you forget your worries, if only for a few minutes. Giving your kind neighbor a smile for letting you stand under their roof, you waved at them, saying, “I’ll see you later,” before stepping out. A few drops of water hit the top of your head as they dripped from the roofs edge.

Drawing a deep breath in, you began walking. Tightening your shawl around your shoulders, you were appreciative of the sun now peeking through the clouds above. It would warm up soon, drying everything in the process. Mindful of your steps now as most of the ground was either emerged with water or was a seeping puddle of mud, you ran into the sights of a friend.

Friend wasn’t the right word, you thought and looked at Gaston with curious eyes. He was currently checking himself out in the window of the bakery, smiling on and off. Probably checking the wrinkles around his mouth, you laughed to yourself, remembering how he told you that women found them to be rather attractive. ‘It gives me a sort of… Older appearance.’ He told you once with a wide smirk. He was right, they did make him look different than other men you knew, but not for the reason he gave you.

The lines around his mouth gave his smirk, his smiles and his grins even more prominence and seemed to captivate those around him. As if his eyes weren’t enough to get the job just right. In fact, most of his attributes were enough to get anyone he set his eyes on, really. He was the definition of tall, dark and handsome. There were the occasional few that saw passed this facade, and you just happened to be one of them. Not that it came in much luck because Gaston had a keen sense on picking out women and men who he didn’t quite captivate. You supposed this came into play with his need for a chase. Whether it be chasing his next prey while hunting or chasing the next woman in his life, he enjoyed it regardless.

You raised your eyebrows in amusement as Gaston shot his reflection a wink and a kiss. You took this as an opportunity to walk past him quickly, in slight hopes that perhaps he wouldn’t notice you so you could get what you wanted and not linger around to talk.

He was more of an acquaintance, you decided tip toeing your way behind him, not a friend. You both knew each other, acknowledged each other’s existence, spoken here and there, flirted a bit but ultimately kept your distance. It wasn’t as if you hated him, in fact, you didn’t. You just found him to a be a bit… overpowering sometimes and it only elevated when you figured out that he was entirely interested in you. Of course, the smiles he sent your way, the tone of voice he used with you, his gestures and body language were all alarms going off telling you that Gaston thought he was a bit more than acquaintances with you, but it only hit you full on when he finally got around to asking you to have dinner with him.

It’s not like you weren’t interested him and hadn’t thought of being together with him. You figured most everyone in the village had, even the men. Gaston was certainly appealing and was very careful on making himself seem as attractive as he possibly could. But, giving a man his way when he thinks he’s entitled to it is something you didn’t want to feed into. An egotistical man is something you didn’t want to feed attention to. You owed him nothing. You were your own person and he’d have to realize that if he was really interested.

“(Name)!” Your face balled up in defeat. Stopping your movements, you turned on your heel and faced Gaston. In the time that it took you to do that, you relaxed your expression into the most neutral face you could muster. You watched rather intently as he pulled on the bottom of his tan overcoat to straighten it, clearing his throat while doing that.

You swallowed softly and smiled politely at him. “Good morning, Gaston.”

He didn’t miss a beat, grasping your hand and kissing your knuckles gently. He smiled against them, looking down at you through slightly half-lidded eyes. Your heart churned at the meager gaze that held a bit more than invested attention. He let go of your hand, almost hesitating doing so. Your hand was left to drift in the air before making its way back to your side.  “Good morning.” He finally said, his tone dipping into his chest voice. “Any plans for this evening?”

“What’s today? Wednesday?” You thought and looked around, eager to avoid his eyes. Crossing your arms in front of your chest, you thought of an excuse. It didn’t need to be a good one, just a logical one. You spilled out the first thing you thought of, “I’ve got to do laundry.” It was unintentional for your statement to come out as a question, but unfortunately, it came out that way. You just hoped that Gaston bought it as an obtainable excuse.

Slipping his hands onto his hips, you found yourself rather fixated on the shape of his torso. His fingers expanded there, cupping and holding himself as if he didn’t get enough from the women who’ve touched that very spot. He didn’t cock his waist to the side perse, and much rather, straightened his back to make himself appear even larger. The light brown pants were tailored to fit his body specifically, and if he moved just right, it left little to the imagination. His feet were a part giving the absolute definition of confidence and self-awareness though Gaston on more than one occasion, was completely clueless. At this moment in time, he wasn’t. He was thinking about your words. There was really no sense in doing laundry in the evening because if you left it out to dry overnight, the frost would most definitely freeze most of your clothes.

“In the… Evening?” Gaston inquired, his right eyebrow arching upwards in curiousity. The white ruffled shirt under the vibrant red vest lined with gold clung to his torso and defined his shape. Under the tan overcoat, you could see that Gaston was just as gentle on the eyes. Many didn’t see this for many only say the broad shouldered war hero. For a brief moment, you wanted nothing than to reach out and graze your hands up and down his sides. They appeared smooth.

“Uhm, yes.” You tore your eyes away, deciding that walking away was probably the best way to avoid any sort of eye contact. If he’s walking beside you, preferably a foot behind you actually,  it’d be hard for you to maintain gazes. Gaston followed you rather diligently, letting his eyes fall to the back of your head as you began speaking again, “It’s a lot easier to get it done in the evening when no one else is there.” That made complete sense, you reassured yourself.

“Then, can I join you?” You knew that was coming. Laughing quietly, you stopped in front of a rather large puddle that almost looked more like a pond because of its size. “I’ve never done it myself, but I’m sure you can help me.” Gaston informed you, studying the small body of water in front of you and your mild hesitation on how you wanted to get around it.

Without any chance to ask what he was doing, Gaston bent down, grasping your hips and picking you up seamlessly. It was sudden action and with your feet leaving the ground so quickly made your head reel. For a second, you were almost sure he was going to hike you over his shoulder and carry you like a sack of potatoes, but his arm remained around your waist and within moments, he was holding you rather securely while your feet dangled helplessly in the air.

Unable to protest now, he started walking forward through the puddle you were debating on how to get around. You sighed in defeat. He was nice enough to help you so there was no point in arguing now that he was halfway across. “Or better yet, you can do it for me. You see, I usually get women to do it for me, it’s amazing how they throw themselves on their knees for the opportunity really.” Gaston smirked at the thought, readjusting his grip on you.

Shutting your eyelids to reserve yourself from snapping at him, you wrapped your arms around his neck to feel a bit more stable. You could feel his muscles shift under his clothing and found it difficult to ignore the musky smell that seemed to linger with him. He smelt like the woods mixed with the smallest amount of gunpowder. You knew this wasn’t a scent you should grow attached to, but you still found yourself taking deep breaths in just to enjoy. Fluttering your eyes back open you looked at him. Your gaze was a threat in itself, telling him that he’d pay for it if he dropped you. Then, you began speaking, “I won’t do it for you, but I can show you how to do it.”

Gaston laughed quietly. He figured you’d say something of that nature and merely nodded in agreement. He shuffled slightly, feeling something under his feet slip and slide, and before he could really process what it was, the two of you were tumbling down. A few seconds later, you were sitting in a rather large puddle, covered with water and mud. Sitting up, you blinked back the mud near your eyes. You swallowed thickly and looked down at Gaston as he actually managed to catch you and soften your landing. You couldn’t say the same for him for you had actually landed on top of him.

Resting on his back, he groaned quietly and opened his eyes. Gaston looked blankly at the sky for a few seconds before rocking back into reality. Realizing you were on top of him, a small smirk crept its way onto his cheeks. You could feel the eyes of a few villagers digging into you as they watched the entire thing play out, and some villagers who just got there and were met with a rather compromising scene as you were straddling him.

Staring down at him, you came to one conclusion rather quickly. “You did that on purpose.”

“What reason would I have for doing it on purpose? I slipped on a loose stone. It does happen, I’ll have you know. I’m sorry.” He groaned while sitting up, reaching back and holding you close to him. It was unintentional and more of a habit, but you could feel the heat dancing from the tips of your ears to your face at the action. Your eyebrows rose in slow amazement.  He wasn’t usually one for apologizing for anything, even it was his fault. Gaston had a knack of making it seem like things weren’t truly his fault, so why did he take responsibility this time? You were still perched in his lap as he slicked back some of his now drenched hair, a bit offended that you assumed that he did it intentionally.

Your laughter started, soft at first before getting louder and louder. Gaston was shocked, his face twisting into an expression of confusion. “What could possibly be so funny?” He moved his head back a bit so he could see you more clearly and something inside of him slammed against his heart like a giant wave.

“You’re a mess.” You tossed your head back in absolute pleasure. You’d never seen Gaston like this before. Physically dirty and unappealing to most because of the mud, but also a bit more human for having apologize for making a mistake, for having a flaw. Grasping your sides from laughing too hard, you heard Gaston’s laugh mix with yours. Unsurely at first, before he started literally cackling. It was something that you never actually heard prior, because he had many sorts of laughs.

The cocky laughs, the fake laughs, and the hateful or scornful laughs. Those were the ones he used more often than not so to hear his actual, human, genuine laugh made yours die down so you could admire it a bit more. There were wrinkles around his eyes, as they were shut, his mouth forming what you would describe as being one of the most beautiful smiles you’d ever seen. The sound itself was a bit different as well and instead of resonating in his chest like you thought, it was a lighter, more flowful sound. Grasping a leaf that had made it’s way into his hair, you tugged it out gently and tossed it to the side. “I’ve known you for years but I’ve never heard you laugh like that.” You stated and wiped some mud off his forehead. In the process though, you had only managed to smear it with the water on your fingers.

“You best bask in it then. Not many people have heard it.” He whispered a bit too quietly and looked away. Surely, it was a subject you could press and see why he implied that it was rare for him to laugh like that, but you were in no true position to do so. You were acquaintances. If more, then perhaps you could seep into his childhood, the days before you even knew Gaston.

Leaning towards him ever so slightly, you stared into his eyes as if you were reading what emotions were swirling in them. Remarkably, as many people have told you, his eyes weren’t a complete and solid brown. You supposed that you had never paid attention to the flickers of green that were washed around the darkness of his pupil. The sunlight seemed to elevate the appearance of his eyes, giving them a much softer glow than darker light would give. Resting your hands on his chest, you swallowed back any intentions of going any further than this mishap and tried to convince yourself that standing up would be your safest way out.

You tried, but your legs weren’t moving. A refusal would be the best way to put it. Your mind was refusing to move your body, to flee from the scene. Why?

Silence ensued between the two of you as he stared back at you. From the vague expression on his face, you thought that he was going to lean forward and plant a smooth kiss onto your lips. You were positive that was what he would do had any other girl fallen with him. Why else would he need the excuse to get so close to you? His movement seemed almost hesitant and as he rested back on one arm, he reached the other up and wiped some mud off your cheek with the wet sleeve of his tan coat. You didn’t want to tilt your head towards his graze, but that’s exactly what you did. Your action led to Gaston cupping the side of your face, his fingertips damp against your soft skin. You were almost positive he could feel your heart beating against his touch.

It would be so easy to kiss you right now, he thought to himself and let his eyes drop to your mouth before seeking your gaze once again. One swift motion towards you and he’d have his lips on yours, something that he had thought about since the first day he met you. That was years ago. To pine after someone for so long was typically not his style but here he found himself wanting nothing more than to embrace you and to let you have him. Gaston swallowed, the muscles in his neck contracting as he did. He wouldn’t say that he was nervous because he wasn’t. He just found himself… Unsure of what to do now. He could kiss you and change things between the two of you forever or he could stand up, help you up and go on with life the way things were.

He had chased you long enough.

Now was the time to take some action.

You laughed quietly, pulling away from his touch, “We should probably start laundry earlier-” The sentence came to an abrupt stop as Gaston craned his head forward and captured your lips. Your eyes were wide with surprise, though deep down, you knew he was going to kiss you. And, despite that deep down feeling, you did nothing to stop him. The second he started kissing you, you had stopped lying to yourself. You wanted to kiss him just as much. You wanted to hold him closer and never let go.

It wasn’t quite a kiss, as half of his mouth actually landed on the space next to your mouth. He didn’t move for what seemed like eternity, constantly reassuring himself that he had done the right thing. And when he did move, it was to readjust his mouth so he could kiss you fully. Lifting both hands, he cupped your face tenderly while the hands that were resting on his chest rose up to hold onto his shoulders. 

You wondered what it must look like, the two of you kissing in the middle of the village, in the middle of a puddle, both soaked to the bone and covered in mud. You didn’t care about that for very long though as your eyes fell shut. Gaston didn’t completely devour and allowed you dominate slightly. Kissing him back, you squeezed his shoulders and laughed slightly when the small amount of facial hair tickled your face. He laughed as well, pulling his mouth from yours. They remained puckered, almost asking for another kiss, his eyes still blissfully shut.

You didn’t allow him the pleasure, at least, not yet as you finished your sentence from before, “because we need to get the mud out of these clothes.”


Holy crap that ended up way longer than I had anticipated. Reblogs and likes are appreciated guys, thanks for reading!

Seventeen as the Mafia + How He Met You

||| Requested by @dreamiedragon |||


S.Coups/Choi Seungcheol

Originally posted by sevixxteen

  • That type of leader that doesn’t take shit from anyone, except his members because he can’t fight them all at once. 
  • Gets to know and observes people for a long time before recruiting them
  • He’s very stressed lately as they are a relatively new gang and there are a lot of fights going on with others for territories.

He met you in one these fights when you tried to make a distraction for your gang. You were about to go upstairs to the roof when you bumped into him

“Who the hell are you?” he asked immediately taking his gun out and pointing it at you.

“The same goes for you. You’re not from my gang so I’m here to kill you.”

“Oh really.” he asked smacking the gun from your hand and getting your hands behind your back. “You chose the wrong member. You see I’m the boss and now I can use you as a hostage.”


Yoon Jeonghan

Originally posted by visual-17

  • Looks like an angel and he actually is but in reality he’s the one you should be afraid of the most.
  • Nobody has seen him kill anybody because his methods are too cruel to do them in public.
  • Apparently has some beef with EXO’s Sehun. No one dares ask him but it has something to do with Sehun mistaking him for somebody.

By accident you got involved in a weapon dealing incident with him and he has been planing on killing you ever since. You were good at hiding your tracks but he saw you one day in the city and decided to get rid of you just there in the street but then realized that this fight would probably end up in a blood bath so instead he approached you in secret.

“You have to keep quite and come with me, if you don’t want to die here.” he said pressing his gun to your back.


Joshua/Hong Jisoo

Originally posted by jihanlife

  • Nobody knows why he’s in the gang as he was never invited.
  • When Seungcheol first noticed Jisoo he thought he’s a spy or something (as he appeared out of nowhere) and was about to kill him when he promised that he’s good at at least something
  • And he was, to everyone’s surprise Jisoo’s aim and accuracy is the best out of all of them that’s why he prefers snipers.

He was told to get rid of you silently but you noticed him at the last second and he missed the shot causing a massive panic in the street. You used this opportunity to escape which made Jisoo even more angry. He hasn’t missed a shot in a long time and was determined to get you for that. But whenever he thought he got you cornered he somehow managed to miss and after a while he started to enjoy this little game of yours and soon realized that he doesn’t even want to kill you anymore.


Jun/Wen Junhui

Originally posted by jisoos-princess

  • Pro at hand to hand combat.
  • Trains all the members and teaches them different fighting techniques just in case.
  • His training routine is no joke and everyone is practically dead after it.

He met you before he joined the gang. You were jogging at the same park every morning. As it was really early and not a lot of people were out it became like a habit for him to greet you before he ran past. Eventually he wanted to engage in not only small talk and find out more about you and he started slowing down every single day till he was running at the same pace as you.

“Finally decided to slow down?” you asked.

“Only for you.” he winked.


Hoshi/Kwon Soonyoung

Originally posted by fyhoshi

  • Experimented a lot and finally came up with his own method to make drugs.
  • They were incredibly popular and so he quickly went up the ranks and now whenever there is deal going on it has to go through him first.
  • His first idea was to make poison but he somehow made drugs so nowadays he likes mixing different ingredients to try to create a new deadly weapon.

You had the audacity to attempt to take his throne as the king of drug dealing. You were stubborn and despite a lot of orders to report what you’re doing, you made your way around and stole half of his clients. He had enough and thought that the easiest way to fix this problem would be to get rid of you. But he had no idea you thought the same thing and somehow got his whole warehouse blown up. He caught you outside.

“You little shit, now you will have to take responsibility and I’m not letting you go any time soon.”


Jeon Wonwoo

Originally posted by visual-17

  • Likes money. A lot. And doesn’t like sharing. At all.
  • Easiest way for him to get rich was cards that’s why he started gambling at a really young age and now is a pro at it and is amazing at bluffing.
  • Enjoys tricking his own gang members and actually gets the most money out of them.

Played poker with him once. He lost. Now he wants his money back but you keep denying his challenge. He usually shows up at the most random places just to ask you. You got into your car and almost spilled your coffee when you noticed him sitting in the back seat.

“Wonwoo what the fuck?”

“Come on Y/N, let’s play.”

“Can you get over that already? Get the hell out of my car.”

“I guess I have to take some more drastic measures.” he said taking his gun out. “We’re going to my place.”


Kim Mingyu

Originally posted by fuckyeahmingyu

  • Can smuggle anything in and out starting from stolen cars and ending with guns.
  • Doesn’t stay in the city for too long as he always has deals all around the country.
  • But when he comes back everyone is extremely happy to see him as he’s mostly chill and just being near him calms the others down.

He met you when he was away on a trip. You asked him for help when your car broke down and he fell in love at first sight. He stayed in the city for more than two months just to keep seeing you and you eventually became good friends when Seungcheol was done with him ignoring his orders and went to get him back himself. Well Mingyu obviously didn’t want to leave you but you didn’t want to go to another city either so he decided to be blunt.

“Y/N I don’t know how you feel about me but love you so I’m sorry but you have only two choices, you either go with me on your own free will or I take you by force.”

 

Woozi/Lee Jihoon

Originally posted by seungcheofine

  • Somehow the ones who look the most innocent are the most dangerous in this gang. The same goes for Woozi. But he only uses violence when it’s necessary.
  • His specialty - torture. Favourite methods - teeth and fingernails pulling.
  • He charms his targets with his cute appearance and then gets every last bit of information they can muster.

You were unfortunate enough to be his target. You were screaming in pain for at least and hour, swearing that you don’t know anything when Seungcheol came in and told him that they got the wrong person. He set his tools aside and stood in silence for a few minutes.

“Fuck!” he shouted shoving everything from the table. You just watched in horror not knowing what’s going to happen next. He turned around and untied you. He was ashamed of himself and couldn’t look you in the eyes.

“At least let me treat you your wounds.”


DK/Lee Seokmin

Originally posted by livinthediamondlife

  • Is responsible for looking after the gang territories and making sure they don’t get taken over.
  • Usually doesn’t think twice when someone trespasses and just shoots them on the spot.
  • But still has incredibly good and friendly relationships with the residence of the areas he’s taking care of.

Trying to bypass through his territories was a big mistake. He noticed you’re not a local and decided to find out what you’re doing here. 

“Hey you!” he called you over but you just looked at him and started running. 

“What the heck?!” he thought as he started chasing you. You didn’t know the streets well and ended up in a dead end.

“I got you cornered. Now you’re going to tell me what you’re doing here or I will have to use violence.”


The8/Xu Minghao

Originally posted by mountean

  • He’s great at annoying and pissing everybody off easily but it’s hard to catch him as he’s incredibly fast.
  • That’s why they send him when their is a need to infiltrate, spy or track anybody.
  •  That doesn’t always work out as he likes to make either a grand entrance or exit and by doing that he attracts the attention of anybody nearby.

He was following you to get some information when he lost you. Suddenly he felt a knife press into his back.

“Why are you after me? Who hired you?”

He tried to take you by surprise by turning around and taking the knife out of your hands but he lost his balance and fell on top of you.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you asked.

“Well this is quite the unfortunate situation you got yourself in.” he smirked. “If you promise not to make a scene our meeting won’t take long.”


Boo Seungkwan

Originally posted by infinitblaq

*Jun shows up out of nowhere*

  • One of the first members who joined and everybody is thankful for that every single day because they wouldn’t have got where they are without him.
  • The missions he plans have a 99% chance of success.
  • Failure is not an option for him so he makes detailed strategies for all type of possible scenarios.

What a surprise You showed up at the wrong place at the wrong time and ruined all his perfect planing. The members haven’t seen him this pissed in a long time when he grabbed you and almost dragged you to one of the rooms. He roughly pushed you inside and you almost tripped on your own legs but his gentleman side couldn’t let a lady fall in front of him even when he was angry so he caught you midair and watched how confused you became by the second.

“Sit.” he said pulling you up and pointing you to the chair. “We have to talk.”


Hansol Vernon

Originally posted by sneezes

  • Knows anything and everything and the others should learn from him how to get verified information as fast as he gets.
  • Good with electronics that’s why he never goes anywhere without his trusted computer.
  • Despite some members protests he tends to sell the rarest info for big amounts of money to the other gangs.

He find out about you when he wanted to sell some info but the gang told him they already have what they need. Surprised that somebody besides him found it, he was determined to track you down. He was even more shocked when he saw that you’re a woman as there was not a lot of them in the industry.

“What? You think only men can do this type of work?”

“No but I find the women who do incredibly sexy.”


Dino/Lee Chan

Originally posted by dino-net

  • Despite being the youngest he knew about the mafia world the most.
  • His father had a gang and was killed during a deal so he asked Seungcheol for help to someday avenge him.
  • Takes all advice given to him very seriously and tries his best to help.

Some trusted former members of his father gang were asked to take care of him so that’s why you followed him and also joined this gang. He found this annoying as he wanted to escape his past and always treated you harshly but when he noticed that you’re not around anymore he got kind of sad. But to his delight you came back after a few weeks after taking care of business.

“Missed me?” You smirked.

“Please don’t ever do that again.” he said, giving you a surprise hug.


A/N: I wonder if I should make a masterlist but I’m so lazyyy… Anyhow, feel free to request more scenarios, reactions etc. I keep up with a lot of groups, both male and female!! 😄

OFF THE CUFF HOMESTUCK THOUGHTS #3: THE SELF PILE DOESN’T STOP FROM GETTING TALLER OR: THE PROBLEM OF DEAD MARIOS

DISCLAIMER

IMPORTANT THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK

[CHECK THE TAG FOR MORE THOUGHTS]

So, a long-ass time ago, Rose and Dave had a conversation like this:

TT: After you go, what do you think will happen to me?
TT: Will I just cease to exist?
TG: i dont know
TG: i mean your whole timeline will
TG: maybe
TT: Maybe?
TT: Is there a chance it’ll continue to exist, and I’ll just be here alone forever?
TT: I’m not sure which outcome is more unsettling.
TG: the thing with time travel is
TG: you cant overthink it
TG: just roll with it and see what happens
TG: and above all try not to do anything retarded
TT: What do you think I should do?
TG: try going to sleep
TG: our dream selves kind of operate outside the normal time continuum i think
TG: so if part of you from this timelines going to persist thats probably the way to make it happen
TT: Ok.
TG: and hey you might even be able to help your past dream self wake up sooner without all that fuss you went through
TT: I think the true purpose of this game is to see how many qualifiers we can get to precede the word “self” and still understand what we’re talking about.

This is the most important sentence in Homestuck.

I am dead serious.

Well, OK, I mean, it’s pretty important for understanding some major Homestuck themes and shit or something like that.

Also, I totally should have said: Pre-Retcon Doomed Timeline Non-Dreamself Rose but ultimately about to become Dreamself Rose who semi-merged with Pre-Retcon Alpha Timeline Rose and Doomed Timeline Dave aka Davesprite AKA future Davepetasprite^2 or as we all call them around the office, Davepeta, had that conversation.

Maybe you begin to see what I’m going to talk about here.

One of the major frustrations a lot of people had with the retcon was that the characters we ended up with at the end weren’t the ones we’d come to love and know throughout the story. Was it even worth it, to lose the characters we loved to the tyranny of Game Over? The victorious kids, with the exception of John and Roxy, were other people, with other histories, other goals, and other choices.

Allow me to submit that that may be the whole point.

SBURB is cruel. We’ve known that for a long time. It’s cruel not as Caliborn is cruel, but as the cosmos is cruel, as a supernova is cruel. It wants what it wants, and doesn’t care about how that intersects with the needs of humanity. It wants to make universes through a complex game-playing method, and drags hapless, vulnerable adolescents along for the ride. And most of the time it doesn’t even succeed, leaving its champions to rot in a doomed timeline or similar! Skaia’s victory is an amoral creation myth where individual human beings are just the carved pieces on the chessboard. (I mean, the other ones. Not the carapacians.)

Again, let’s consider the theme of VIDEO GAMES vs. REAL LIFE.

Homestuck, let’s be real, is basically some postmodern horror timey-wimey Jumanji. For a generation way more familiar with pixels than cute little tokens It’s easy for teenagers and in fact, basically everyone, to fantasize about escaping their life and slipping into some game world forever, where they get to do awesome things and be a heroic person.

Homestuck makes that literal. Congratulations, everything you ever knew is dead. You will never see it again, except your internet friends, who turn out also to be your family and other important people. I mean, from a distance, SBURB sounds like an awesome game, right? You figure out who you are and get to wear a cool costume displaying that identity. You get to make anything you want and enjoy this hyperflexible mythology tailored to YOUR CHOICES. HS fans talk all the time about how cool it would be to play a real version of SBURB. That’s a big part of the appeal of SBURB fan adventures. They put you and your friends in the story. Or your favorite characters! It sounds like a fantasy come true.

The thing is, as fantastical as it is, it’s also really fucked up, and ultimately you and your friends are being used. By a giant frog to let it have its babies. By the universe. By a smug blue cloud thing that doesn’t care about you at all.

SBURB does not care about you at all.

The funny thing, SBURB features a mythology with so many layers and nuances and seemingly human motifs about growth and self that you might search for some grand ultimate meaning behind it, but it’s not even human enough to have a personality, to be something you can argue with or fight. It just is. It’s all the cruelty and power of a god without any of the dazzling personality. It’s empty. It just wants to make universes all day long, or fail trying. It is a great, weird tadpole-making machine that eats children.

One of the big ways it doesn’t care about you is its attitude toward the self. Humans and trolls and whatnot prefer not to be relentlessly duplicated. SBURB says, oh yeah, let’s make tons of copies of the player characters and use them for a lot of different purposes.

There’s the dreamself, an essential bifurcation of identity (you are now and were always the dream moon princex) that sometimes gets merged into god tier but sometimes doesn’t. There’s doomed timeline selves, who exist ultimately to augment an Alpha timeline whose Alphaness is decided very arbitrarily and frequently by Lord English. There’s the you who exists before a scratched session and the you who exists afterward, who are two different people but started as one baby in an act of ectobaby meteor duplication, your player self and your guardian self. Dead timeline yous fill up the dreambubbles made by the horrorterrors and get endlessly confused with each other. Any one of these could be the you experience being at any given moment, and which one it is entirely arbitrary. Don’t like being Dead Nepeta #47? Tough hoofbeast leavings, kiddo.

To top it all off, in Terezi: Remember, we learn that every single time we thought someone changed from one self to another, was resurrected or something like that, it was another act of duplication. For every time someone’s died, there’s another version of them waiting in the Dream Bubbles, surprised that they’re not the main character anymore. And we have no way of knowing which is which. Even John, good old everyman John, may or may not be the person who died three or four times. It’s really impossible to say whether we’ve been following the same person throughout our story, or just the illusion of the same person, like a horrifying cosmic flipbook.

The retcon is a return to this same theme. Ultimately, there’s very little new in the changes John makes to reality except that they drive the point home.

John’s friends all died. John and his friends won the game. These things are both true at the same time, except those things may not have happened to the same people. There was a happy ending. Hooray! For, um, some folks who may or may not be the ones we care about. In fact, it’s very confusing, because from Rose’s perspective, Roxy is dead but came back to life, and from Roxy’s perspective Rose is dead but came back to life, except also she came back to life as a weird tentacle catgirl of pure id and self –indulgence. So there’s that. Um. Which Rose are we rooting for again?

Or wait: is it none of them, because the first Rose died in a doomed timeline, hundreds of panels and a number of years ago?

There’s a tension here which one experiences between saying it’s okay because it’s still the same people, and saying it’s not okay, because it’s not the same people at all. This tension is exactly what we’re meant to wrestle with. To put it another way, Homestuck asks if identity can work in aggregate. Are all Johns John, all Roses Rose, and do they all share in what they accomplish? Or are the final victors only accidents created by the whims and needs of the frog baby machine?

What I’m saying, basically, is that the retcon, in the sense that it pointed out our confused relationship with these characters, was already here.

In interviews and questions put to him over the years, Hussie constantly compares HS and SBURB to other video games, particularly Mario, which he frequently returns to as a baseline of comparison that most of his readers will know. One answer, from a recent Hiveswap interview, is particularly revelatory. To the question of “Why do you kill off all your characters?” Hussie replies:

[…]HS is supposedly a story that is also a game. In games, the characters die all the time. How many times did you let Mario fall in the pit before he saved the princess? Who weeps for these Marios. In games your characters die, but you keep trying and trying and rebooting and resetting until finally they make it. When you play a game this process is all very impersonal. Once you finally win, when all is said and done those deaths didn’t “count”, only the linear path of the final victorious version of the character is considered “real”. Mario never actually died, did he? Except the omniscient player knows better. HS seems to combine all the meaningless deaths of a trial-and-error game journey with the way death is treated dramatically in other media, where unlike our oblivious Mario, the characters are aware and afraid of the many deaths they must experience before finally winning the game.

The big man hass the answer.

Homestuck is the story of those dead Marios.

Other works, like Undertale, have engaged with this topic as well. But one of the major differences between Undertale and Homestuck is that in Undertale, between “lives,” one’s consciousness is preserved. In Homestuck, it’s discontinuous, and the value of the overall trial-error process is called into question by the fact that you, the player, may not even get to experience the victory. What meaning does victory hold if that is the case?

So, to put it in a nice thesis format:

One of the central themes of Homestuck is the challenge of reconciling an arbitrary and destructive pattern of growth and victory with the death and suffering you experienced along the way. Homestuck asks: is victory worthwhile if you’re not you anymore? And would you be able to know?

What even is the self? Is there such a thing?

If you were left feeling somewhat disconcerted by our heroes’ tidy victory and departure to their cosmic prize, or by how which Rose gets the spotlight is so deeply, deeply arbitrary, there’s a good reason for that. You’re supposed to be.

The philosophical problem of Wacky Cat Rose is insignificant next to the bullshit of SBURB.

And don’t forget—John and Roxy’s denizens helped them achieve the retcon. Ultimately, the victory they achieved was mediated by the same amoral system of SBURB, and was a victory over an enemy, Caliborn, whose power was created, perpetuated, and ended by that same system.

Okay, so here’s where it gets contentious. There’s an argument to be made, which I’m not sure how I feel about, that some of the character development that could have been in post-retcon Act 6 was left out precisely to push this feeling and play up this tension. Note that this is not the same thing as saying that they were deliberately badly written, but that they’re deliberately written to make us uneasy.That Hussie deliberately played with the balance between making these retconned characters feel familiar and making them feel eerily different to leave us feeling uneasy with the result.

I’m not sure I like that idea. It smacks a little too much of that “everything is perfect” thinking that comes sometimes from the far Metastuck camp. Some of the differences may also be the result of flawed writing. (See: Jane and Jake’s character arcs, which I might talk about later.) And I want to be able to critique those flaws. Ultimately, I think we still needed more time and development to figure out who these new people were—even if our goal was ultimately to compare them to their earlier selves. And again, more conscious acknowledgement of the problem from our heroes—especially John, the linchpin in this last and biggest act of duplication—might have helped drive this theme home.

Still, I think the Problem of Dead Marios is one of the most fundamental questions of Homestuck, maybe THE biggest question. It’s essential to understand it to understand what Hussie’s doing—or attempting to do— in the retcon and the ending.

I don’t know that Homestuck offers us a clear answer to that question. There are some confusions around the issue, too. Where do merged selves fit in, exactly? Clearly they’re a big part of the discussion, because Hussie spends some time in Act 6, especially near the end bringing the identity-merging powers of the Sprites to the forefront. (See also: the identity-merged nightmare that is Lord English.)  Can we even come up with a clear answer to what it means when a dead Mario returns to life grotesquely fused with Toad? How does he beat the game? Does he tell himself that the princess is in another castle? Or what if he merges with Peach? Are they their own princess? How do they know if they’re in the right castle?

Um. Anyway—

Interestingly, it’s not all grotesque—spritesplosions suggest that personalities that are too different don’t stay together long, so a fusion might rely on some inherent compatibility between the two players. Erisol’s self-loathing, sure, but also Fefeta’s cheerfulness. Davepeta seems to be a way of bringing out the best in their players, a way of getting Davesprite past his angst and Nepeta past her fear. Honestly, I know a lot of people don’t like Davepeta as the ending of these two characters’ arcs, but I can’t help but love it. They’re the ultimate coolkid. Cool enough to know they don’t have to be cool. Regular Dave got there, too, of course. But was his retcon assist from John ultimately any different?

Then, of course, we come to Davepeta’s speech to Jade in one of the last few updates before Collide. Davepeta suggests that there is such a thing as an ultimate self beyond the many different selves one piles up throughout the cosmos. A set of principles that describes who you are that’s larger than any individual instance of you. Your inherent Mariohood. (Maybe this is comparable to your Classpect identity, which attempts to describe who you are?) Davepeta even tells Jade, strikingly, that one might learn to see beyond the barriers between selves. Be the ur-self, in practice, rather than theory. This would be incredible news for Jade, who wrestles with the issue of different selves perhaps more than any other character. (There’s a lot to say about Jade.)

Honestly, I wish this ur-self idea had been developed more, and I honestly expected it to be. It doesn’t fully come to fruition, I feel. (Same goes for Davepeta’s character. Ohhhh, ZING!) I’m not sure it entirely makes philosophical sense, especially with fusion—I mean, doesn’t Davepeta themself disprove it? Or at least complicate it? Like, are they part of the ur-Dave or the ur-Nepeta? They seem to imply they’re BOTH? Does that even work? Does that mean that Marieach is all the Peaches and Marios at once?

(In fact, Bowser/Peach/Mario are but the three manifestations of one eternal principle. Also, Bowser/Peach are the true power couple. Read my fanfiction plz.)

And what, say, of Dirk, who ultimately ends up rejecting aspects of his other selves? It feels like there’s a lot more you could say here, and I wonder if Hussie would have said more, if he’d had time. What’s weird is, none of our victorious kids never reach an ur-self (though to their descendants, they become archetypal to some degree), which one might have expected. They’re just individual selves who happened to get lucky. Does that make them representative of the whole? It feels like something’s missing here, or like something got dropped at the last minute.

Same goes for the idea of the Ultimate Riddle. You’d be forgiven for missing it, but there’s been this riddle in the background lore of SBURB that seems to have something to do with personal agency in this overwhelming, overarching system. Karkat called it predestination, saying something like “ANY HOPE YOU HAD OF DOING THINGS OTHERWISE WAS JUST A RUSE.” But others have interpreted it more positively. My favorite interpretation, from bladekindeyewear: the answer to the Riddle is that YOU shape the timeline through your existence, personality, and choices, even when it looks like it’s all predestination. Ultimately it’s your predestination, your set of events, based deeply on your nature, that you are creating. Someone like Caliborn can use his innate personality to achieve power; someone like John might be able to use it to achieve freedom.

I definitely expected something like that to be expressed more explicitly. Like, a big ah-ha moment that helps John or Jade or whoever understand how to escape Caliborn’s system. Something like that would have been very helpful for a lot of our heroes, actually, who’ve been pushed around by Skaia and SBURB together, in finding a cathartic ending.  Once again, I wonder if something was dropped or rushed because there wasn’t time to put it all in. There’s places where you can see hints of that Answer being implied, maybe? But it’s kind of ambiguous.

You can see how the Answer to the Ultimate Riddle ties into some of Davepeta’s ideas. If your personality, the rules of your behavior are a fundamental archetype that goes beyond each individual self, then the answer to whether it matters if one self of yours makes it through to victory is an emphatic YES. You are all of those people, and by winning one round with Skaia, you’ve won the whole game, despite all the arbitrary challenges and deaths it heaps upon you along the way.

This may strike some as too positive for Skaia’s brutality, or again, some way of excusing flaws in many characters’ arcs, or unfair things that happen to them. To be fair, I don’t know that Davepeta’s necessarily meant to be taken as authoritative or the voice of Hussie. They may simply be offering a purrspective.

Hussie not choosing to come right out and engage with the Ultimate Riddle leaves the question of Dead Marios and what they mean for the victorious versions of our cast very open. I like that in some ways—let the reader decide—but I can’t help but wish we had more to work with in making that decision. Plus, it might have brought the thematic messages of Homestuck all the way home to tie them more closely to our characters and their experiences—character development being one of the things most people found most lacking in the ending.

NEXT TIME: All that wacky gnostic stuff probably

Kiwi: Part One

A little impromptu mini-series based in Jamaica during the writing/recording of Harry’s new album. Enjoy. xo



The music in the bar was pounding as the sounds of the Caribbean flowed through the humid air. It was a small establishment, one that could probably only accommodate for two hundred people at most. It definitely wasn’t a tourist place; most of those were on the other side of the island with the copious amounts of resorts and hotels that offered travellers sanctuary.

Harry wasn’t there to vacation, though. He was there to write and record his new album.

The bar, “Pipo’s Shack”, was about a ten minute walk from the recording studio that Harry had been working in for the past little bit. It had been a productive couple of days; he’d spent the first night there having a few beers and getting to know his team better. After all, they were going to be working together until this thing was done, so they might as well be comfortable with one another. They all got along splendidly, and the handful of songs they’d managed to bang out so far were promising, but not quite right yet. After a couple of days of straight work, Harry decided that he needed a night off to himself.

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FACTS ABOUT CONNOR MURPHY (spoilers)

So I have decided to post all the facts and hints about Connor Murphy’s past that are shown in the musical. It’s hard to make out considering people in the fandom usually focus on the lies Evan tells to figure out Connor’s personality.

To get this conclusion (which I will post in a second) I literally skipped all scenes concerning Evan’s lies and went directly to the Murphy family and what they say. None of these facts/hints involve what Evan said about Connor.

First of all, I’ll say now that I have put my own interpretation on each of these facts.

And so, I will put all FACTS in BOLD.
Anything out of bold is my own interpretation and how I see it to be. It’s up to you to agree with me or disagree.

First, I will post my conclusions on each family member, and then afterwards, I will post the reasons for each one.

Zoe

Zoe was an emotional and verbal abuse victim. There is no evidence of physical abuse, although there were threats that could have potentially led to that. She has all the right to not grieve over Connor, in all honesty, she could have sent him to the police for what he did, but as an abuse victim, that is very hard to do. Connor was probably the cause of most of her insecurities and she hated him for that. The unhealthy habit of taking out his anger on the nearest person to him probably made him lash out at his sister whenever he had a panic attack. Judging by how he really did care enough to keep the creepy letter about his sister, written by Evan, in his pocket for 3 days before he committed suicide, it’s safe to say that he really regretted being mean to his sister and actually cared about her.

Connor’s mom, Cynthia

Connor’s mom was a woman obsessed with reputation. She’s known as the rich man’s wife, and wants more than anything to be a regular family. But because her son had mental illnesses, her perfect image was ruined. She acted as though she was there for him but when it came down to it, she did nothing. She pushed for therapy but after a while, her husband took him out of it because “it wasn’t worth the money,” and she basically went, “welp, I tried.” I will quote what I say later: Connor’s mom might not actually be sad that her son is gone, but rather, she’s ashamed that her family actually doesn’t care. It seems like Connor’s mom is filled with regret for not being there for her son, and she’s forcing her family to act like they regretted it too, because that’s what a real family should have been like. But this is only a personal theory.

Connor’s dad, Larry

Connor’s dad might be one of the main sources of his depression. It is very obvious to me that Connor’s dad believed him to be a disappointment. He didn’t grieve for his dead son and only played along to make his wife happy. He’s annoyed by the whole situation. It even seemed like he hated the fact that there was fake remnants of his son in Evan. Almost like he wished Connor wasn’t friends with Evan so he could just forget all about him and not need to deal with it. At some point he was a kind father. When they went to the orchard together for picnics, it seems like they were a happy family. Connor’s dad had played with their toy plane together and had some great memories. The whole family practically forgot about this, though. Connor’s dad didn’t cry at his own dead son’s funeral. I think that sums it up.

Connor Murphy

Connor was a complicated person. He had many different mental illnesses. I could research which ones he probably had, but there’s probably already a post somewhere on it already. One thing for sure, is that he was unstable. He might not have been like that his whole life, but at the time of knowing him, the time he was briefly alive in the show, he was incredibly unstable. Everything and anything could set him off, and he probably hated that about himself as well. Pushing away everyone near him that could possibly help and hating himself for doing so, spiraling himself into a closed minded world of self-hate and regret, which is something that many people can relate to, including me. He did a lot of horrible things to his sister and to his family. I don’t blame his family for not actually grieving him, he was a really bad person. The problem is, he could have been a good person as well. He had all the potential to get better. He talked to Evan, probably wishing to say sorry about pushing him earlier in the hall. He was trying, he wanted to try. He wanted to get better. He just gave up too soon.

This post is very long! I’m sorry. If you’d like to read more, I’m putting the reasons I’ve come to these conclusions under the cut.

Remember, ALL FACTS ARE IN BOLD. Anything else is my personal interpretation.

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"I'm not your blind date but you came over and I was eating alone so I went with it and now you're calling me by a different name" AU

I found this prompt on a Tumblr blog but I accidentally deleted the post and now I can’t find the prompt anymore

Lena was sitting alone. She twirled the neck of the wine glass in her left hand, her phone in her right as she responded to work emails. Jess kicked her out of the office almost an hour ago, going on about how she shouldn’t be working on her birthday and she deserved one day off for herself. Problem is Lena always had days to herself. Her days were always “her” days if she didn’t have anyone to share them with. She looked down at the red rose on the table before her, Jess’ gift to her, and let herself smile slightly. Jess was a good assistant, she meant well, and she seemed to care when no one else did.

So that’s why she listened and came here to this restaurant when she really wanted to finish responding to her emails and get a head start on tomorrow’s project. The place wasn’t the fanciest she’s been, but she wasn’t about to go to one of the high-class places she frequented when she didn’t have a date. It was nice enough: low lighting, decent wine selection, and she got a small booth in the back so no one would bother her. Her plan was to come out, grab a quick bite, and then finish work at home.

She was so focused on her phone that she hadn’t noticed the woman walk up to her booth. There was a small tap on her shoulder then, and she was slightly annoyed that anyone would interrupt her when she purposely picked this booth to avoid being bothered. She turned to look up quickly, an annoyed “Can I help you?” on the tip of her tongue, when she came face-to-face with a literal angel, the words dying before they formed. Her jaw went slack as she took in the stunning being before her.

The woman had the bluest eyes Lena had ever seen, even under the minimal lighting of the place and the black rimmed glasses she wore. Her hair fell in soft golden waves, across the shoulders of her beige jacket and blue top. She had a pair of black pants that hugged her hips and a nice pair of boots to match. She looked dressed up, yet still casual, and it suddenly made Lena feel self-conscious about the tight fitting black dress and tight ponytail she wore.

“It was supposed to be yellow,” the woman said, pointing at the flower on the table.

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Terms and Conditons. (Jeon Jungkook.)

Originally posted by jeony

Requested – Yes.

Prompt – Jungkook was out looking for a new flavor of the month and his eyes land on a certain previously taken girl.

Warning – This is a sugar daddy Jungkook scenario. Slight angst, more angst in the future and smut. This smut includes daddy kink.

Words – 2,259. 

Requests?

The energy was heightened as groups of individuals danced around the large ballroom held for an extravagant party. Jeon Jungkook was known to be quite a party planner when it came to his business because he always wanted to make a strong entrance plus he wanted to impress the girls that might be lucky enough to land in his bed that night.

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Kinks (Taehyung/Reader)

Originally posted by buisually-appealing

Prompt: Hello! I was wondering if you could please do a Taehyung/Reader where you’re both having a lazy day and you’re watching TV on the bed. The remote falls but you’re too lazy to get up so you stretch across, and he goes “just get up lazy ass” or something and spanks your butt playfully, but you moan- which leads him to (correctly) believe you have a spanking kink ;)) which leads to some kinky smut afterwards!! Thank you so much <3

Genre: smut

Words: 3.5k+

Author: Admin Meyg

Summary: Wednesday was your favorite day for multiple reasons. 

Tags: Spanking, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Face Sitting/Riding, 69 position, etc.

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anonymous asked:

I'm curious about what procedures you think need to change in the livestock industry?

Practically, or philosophically? There is so much that can be talked about in this field

From a practical standpoint, there are a number of areas where current livestock practices are far from ideal. Farming has a huge history behind it, and many of these practices are ingrained and so difficult to change.

Before I go through the list, I should preface that if you’re not comfortable with the fact that farmed animals die for human benefit, if you just want all farms to stop using animals, then you’re not going to find this list satisfactory. If you’re fundamentally uncomfortable with livestock industries, and you haven’t already questioned why you consume the products it produces or what your alternatives are, then it might be worthwhile.

For now, these industries are not going anywhere. They’re certainly not perfect but we could improve them. Regardless of whether you personally believe all these industries should be ‘just stopped’ you have to agree that will not happen overnight, and that other welfare improvements could happen today.

  • Pain relief being more widely used. There has historically been an aversion to using pain relief medication in livestock due to expense, drug residues and the lack of products made for and tested in the species. This is beginning to change so there are not more options for pain relief at castration and mulesing , for example, but this needs to be more widely used. Another hurdle to this is that they are prescription products, and in order for a veterinarian to prescribe them they must have been out to that farm within the last year and be familiar with their set up and stock. Not every farm will call out a veterinarian on a regular basis.
  • Minimize transport time. Transport, whether by road, train, boat or plane, is incredibly stressful for livestock of all kinds. We can measure their physiological stress, so this is definitely not just anthropomorphism. Livestock are more stressed in transport than they are by witnessing death, which is the opposite to what many people would think. 
  • On-farm slaughter and refrigerated transport. Following on from the previous point, we have the technology to transport chilled carcasses. Performing slaughter on farm removes or eliminates a large percentage of the transport an individual animal needs to be exposed to, and will improve their welfare. Animals don’t perceive death the same way we do, having a mini abattoir at the farm entrance isn’t going to bother them.
  • Using genetics instead of procedures. It astounds me in this modern day that we still have breeders of hereford cattle that breed the horned version, and then de-horn the calves, instead of selecting stock with the polled (no horns) trait. If you want horns then fine, but if you’re going to cut/burn/cauterize them off anyway when why not remove them genetically? The polled gene exists! Similarly there are a small number of merino sheep with a ‘bare breech’ trait, which don’t need mulesing. It would be ideal to spread this trait through the Australian sheep population, but with millions and millions of sheep and a ram only about to impregnate about 60 a month, that will take time.
  • Enrichment. Toys. Something for animals to play with, to investigate, to do. This has been historically neglected for a long time because originally animals weren’t though to have souls, or to be thinking, feeling entities. We know differently now. Enrichment only improves the lives of these animals, and often reduces unwanted or destructive behavior, like piglets biting off each others tails.
  • Dam-neonate bonding in certain industries should be reconsidered. In some situations, the dairy industry in particular, neonates may be taken from their mothers within 24 hours to reduce disease transmission in eradication of certain diseases, like Johnes disease, but in other situations it’s because for some mind boggling reason it is more cost efficient for a farm to sell the mother’s milk and feed the neonate on milk replacer.  
  • In a similar vein, giving sows enough space to nurse their litter would be great. They’re kept in sow stalls (basically a cage that they can stand up or lie down in that the piglets can run through) so that they don’t squash their piglets and kill them. That’s great and all, except you can accomplish the same thing by giving the sow more space to turn around it and slopes on the wall of the pen.

So, the important question I hope you’re asking is why don’t we do these things already?

There are lots and lots of reasons someone could grab, but the short (and I dare say more honest) reason is this: Money.

Granting an animal more space costs you money because it reduces the number of animals you can stock in your space. Using more pain relief medication costs you money. Calling out a vet costs you money. Providing enrichment costs you various amounts of money. On-farm slaughter and refrigerated transport is more expensive than the current system.

So if this is all about money, is it the fault of greedy farmers? Well, generally no.

Most farmers actually like the species of animal they work with. And most of them, especially with recent droughts, the current political climate and monopolization of the companies that buy their products, are not making big buckets of cash. More and more farms are selling up and small producers are not keeping up.

They are under constant pressure to lower the prices of their animal products because there’s only a few big buyers, and right now it’s the buyers that dictate what price they’re willing to pay. Because these animal products are perishable, you can’t save them for a rainy day if you don’t sell them, and these buyers are big enough, they can hold out and only pay what they want to pay. This severe downward pressure means farmers get paid progressively less, and these companies make more profits while claiming it’s good for consumers.

^ Look familiar?

So we get cheaper food, the company makes more profit, and the individual farms get screwed.

Especially with milk, there was a huge crisis recently where one of the big milk buyers suddenly declared it had been overpaying dairies, and that not only was it now going to pay them much less for the season (on contract mind you), but that all their dairies now owed them thousands of dollars. After years of downward price pressure on their product many farms could not, and can not, afford this. You can get an overview here.

The point I’m trying to get to is that if these industries are gong to improve, then we need to value the individual animal and its experience of life more than we currently do. 

If we value the experiences of the individual animal, and consequently put our money where our mouth is when it comes to their products, then there should be both motivation and financial ability to improve their lives. We could progress from mere ‘prevention of cruelty’ and minimum standards towards animal welfare and good welfare states.

Changing consumer patterns is probably the only way to do this, and it’s quite hard when you’re already paycheck to paycheck, but a in depth rant/discussion about politics/policy/economics etc is beyond my scope, though I would happily add veterinary and industry specific detail to a discussion if someone wants to tackle that side of it.