i wish i could have seen this live

The signs as letters between Virginia Woolf and Vita Sackville-West
  • Aries: "Do you really love me? Much? Passionately not reasonably?"
  • Taurus: "But I do adore you — every part of you from heel to hair. Never will you shake me off, try as you may."
  • Gemini: "I always have such need to merely talk to you. Even when I have nothing to talk about — with you I just seem to go right ahead and sort of invent it."
  • Cancer: "I wish I didn’t love you so much. No I don’t though; that’s not true. I am glad I do. I don’t know what to say to you except that it tore the heart out of my body saying goodbye to you."
  • Leo: "Yes, I am glad you miss me, even if it is ‘damned unpleasant.'"
  • Virgo: "You have no idea how stand-offish I can be with people I don’t love. I have brought it to a fine art. But you have broken down my defenses. And I really don’t resent it."
  • Libra: "The flowers have come and are adorable, dusky, tortured, passionate like you—"
  • Scorpio: "I wish you could live in my brain for a week. It is washed with the most violent waves of emotion."
  • Sagittarius: "You may have discovered entire new countries in your own soul."
  • Capricorn: "I find I get more and more disagreeably solitary; In fact I foresee the day when I shall have gone too far into myself that there will no longer be anything to be seen of me at all. Will you, please, remember to pull away the coverings from time to time?"
  • Aquarius: "I like the unreality of your mind; the whole thing is very splendid and voluptuous and absurd."
  • Pisces: "I suppose it is good for the soul to be hurt and perplexed perpetually. I know at least that I miss you damnably: that is a good fixed star."

Types as Roommates (based on actual roommates I’ve had as an INTP)

ESFP:  Rarely around, because they are always out with friends.  When they are home they usually talk about how cool their lamp is.  And you don’t disagree, because it’s a pretty cool lamp.  “I really appreciate you, dude” they say everyday after their shift, until you hate them and their stinky socks all over the bathroom floor.

ENFP:  They are SO! EXCITED! that you’re finally home to hang out with them even though they’ve been going and doing things all week.  Dishes are everywhere.  The rabbit is out of his cage and has chewed through the electrical wires.  The fire alarm is going off again.

INFP:  The best thing about living with them is their music taste.   You keep asking yourself if they are really as laid back as they say they are?  Their poster selection is haphazard, their trash can is filled to the brim, and they show everyone who comes through their dorm their collection of vinyl sex feet.  However, one day you get a terrifying message via text.  You drank from their cup.  That was the special cup.  You shouldn’t have drank from that cup.

ISFP:  THC is more important to oxygen to them.  They line their room with trippy tapestries, and a list of “cartoon conspiracies” is listed on their door.  During that really promiscuous phase of yours, they didn’t say a thing every night you must have waken them up moaning.  You couldn’t believe that anyone could be so laid back.  Then, exams came.  No one had ever been more vigilent, and more terrified than they are during exam week.  “Aderall” your friends say, “They’re hyped up on amphetamines,” but you know what they’re like on amphetamines, and this is a step above.

INTP:  You’ve watched the same anime from start to finish 3 times this week, but you don’t have the nerve to tell them that you’re tired of it.  They’re taking up all of the couch space too.  Because while they might have spent the first 2 weeks of being moved in creating the perfectly efficient and comfortable bedroom (complete with a pillow fort), they fall asleep in the living room most nights with their heated blanket and a wikipedia article up on their laptop.  You peek at their laptop expecting to see something related to their favorite video game or the classes they are taking, but “substitutional insect genitalia”  doesn’t fit either of those categories.

ENTP:  When they have friends over, they don’t just have friends over.  The banter is endless and it almost always lasts until 5 am.  Their is only so much existential philosophy you can take, and that is literally none when it it is being shouted by drunken satanists during the golden hour.  

ISTP:  They really like sex.  Sex is their favorite subject and they feel the need to tell you that frequently.  If you don’t update them on your current sexual status, they might get a little bit grumpy.  Their pet names for you include “slut” and “bitch”.  They read trashy novels and their television choices are questionable to you, but it matters little because you have finally found a roommate that simultaneously respects your boundaries and recognizes you for the asshole you are.

ISFJ:  Tea has suddenly become very important to you.  You memorized your roommates favorite teas for every occasion, every ailment and every time of day, before you even realized it was happening.  You wonder how you know this, without even knowing their last name or what they do for a living.  What time do they come in at night?  Do they have friends?  What kind of music do they listen to?  You imagine that they spend most of their time with their family, and at work, but it’s anybodies guess.

ENFJ:  The greatest sin of yours, is the sink that you leave untouched.  Once a week, they clean it begrudgingly.  With passive-aggression with more fervor than all of the crusades.  They are experimenting with brewing beer and cider.  They are also studying seminary.  They never sleep.  You try to explain to friends of friends that your roommate is going to be in the ministry, but they never believe you, because they’ve only ever seen your roommate black-out wasted.  “Before I was a Christian,”  your roommate says drunkenly  “I would have considered myself bisexual”.  Your eyes have never rolled so far back into your head.  You really wish you could light a joint about now.

ESTJ:  Late night chats about the economy have never been so interesting, but really, they are not interesting enough.  Why in the fuck are you living with a business major?  You down another beer and go to bed with a nauseous feeling in your stomach.

INTJ:  You constantly wonder to yourself if the moderately clean kitchen is worth your roommate’s “quirks”.  They haven’t really done anything, but you’re afraid of them.  You’re too afraid to tell them that they are listening to their audiobooks of The Foundation Trilogy too loud, and you’re too afraid to tell them that you don’t like how they’ve replaced all of the regular lightbulbs with red ones.  Your sense of reality starts to disintegrate.  Is that blood in the fridge?  Are those dildos?  Their is a stack of papers on the coffee table which, as far as you know, are comprised entirely with the digits of pi.

ESFJ:  You still can’t get over the fact that your roommate has a sex schedule.  And more importantly, no concept of respectful noise levels while they do it.

INFJ:  You finally found that roommate that will just share quiet, peaceful company with you.  You play Okami, and they work on their novel.  You write your essays, and they put on Star Wars.  No words, just good vibes.  However, things have started to get weird since their SO broke up with them.  They adopted a dog without your permission, and they’re taking it back to the shelter tomorrow because a two bedroom apartment isn’t big enough for a greyhound.  They keep asking you to cuddle them, and you are running out of polite ways to say “fuck off”.


Sorry that I missed a few types ..

the houses

 (a rather abstract description of the houses, what they could look like and things they contain)

first house: You open a giant, dark wooden door. The knob is hot as you touch it but you don’t flinch and enter a even hotter room, you immediately start sweating. The air is burning and the windows are wide open. Bright light is shining trough some kind of living room, full of possessions of the creature living there. You look around and already know who must be the owner. Still,you ask who lives there and the strong Aries enters the room, his aura is radiant, vibrant, lively, present. “I am life”, he speaks clearly. “I am energy, physical appearance,the self, the will and the doing. I show you how you approach the world and open yourself to it.” 

second house: This door is made out of silver, with blue ornaments. It looks beautiful and must be of high value. With a ‘click’ the door opens, but it really is heavy, so you got to put more effort into the act of opening it. The room is rather minimalist, but some of the furniture and paintings must be old and very expensive. The Taurus stands in front of the high windows and looks out of it, the eyes tired, even a bit melancholic. “Is there something I can do for you?”, the Taurus asked, the voice deep and kind of magnetic. “I want to know who you are”, you ask slowly. The Taurus blinks slowly and answers: “I am development, self worth and win and loss, materialistic and emotional safety, setting limits and fighting for protection.” 

third house: As you come closer to the third door you can hear people speaking. Or at least someone who is discussing something with someone. Voices come and voices go, you are wondering how many people might be in there? The door looks asymmetrical and as you enter the room you are not sure if it’s an office or plainly a full room. As you look around you see that there are radios everywhere, from old to new and each of them is turned on. So that must be the voices. Notes over notes are gathered on the floor and walls, between them some  pictures pinned to the wall of different people. Right in the middle is the Gemini, both of them talking in a heat with a coffee in the right and a pencil in the left hand, constantly taking notes. “So, you must be..?”
“The Gemini!”, one answers excited. The other one continues, more thoughtful: “We are communication, the image, the way of thinking, and -”
“..the ability to adjust, the close environment, small adventures, our neighbors as well as-” 
“Siblings!”, the other one finishes the sentence and both of them laugh, clear as a bell.

fourth house: You hold on before opening this door. It’s made out of colored, dark blue wood, the knob is glowing and the night sky is painted on the dark background. As you open the door everything seems quiet, but you hear someone humming a lullaby, quietly. The cancer sits in the middle of the darkened room, old photo albums, books and letters are gathered around her and she looks like she would fall asleep in any second. You see that this is a bedroom, filled with belongings of her and you hear the sound of the waves outside somewhere from the opened window. As you sit quietly next to her and watch her looking through the photos, she smiles softly before answering your unspoken question: “You know what I am? I am emotions and the feeling of true belonging. I am the roots of your inner being, family and home, your psychological identification, the connection of the environment and private life. I am the intimacy, age and the unconsciousness.”

fifth house: This door is not wooden. It is made out of the finest marble you could find here on earth. The knob is long and golden, a Latin phrase is written on the shimmering marble, it says ‘Ab imo pectore‘, from the bottom of my heart. You can hear music playing loudly and with an easy sweep you open the giant. You enter an atelier, the light is glowing golden and the Leo dances in the middle of it. Everything look rather antique, but with such grace and vividness, you cannot stop yourself from smiling. The sudden laugh of the Leo sounds like an imitating roar and he tip toes to his lover on the giant bed next to the window. “You are even more beautiful than my paintings, I could never capture your beauty.” As his lover smiles and takes his hands, they suddenly point in your direction and the Leo turns around, his thick hair shining in the light. “What do you want, stranger?” You answer honestly and the Leo laughs again as you want to know who he is. “I am art, your passions, creativity and individuality. The will for live, joy, children, the partner, sexuality, the wish for admiration and appreciation. “

sixth house: This door seems rather modest, but pretty as well. It seems to be quiet smaller than the rest of the doors you have seen so far. It has small little patterns carved in it. You see a note in the middle of it, it’s telling you to knock before opening and so you do as it told you. “Yes, you may come in.” You enter a cold, neatly tidied up working room, the lights are dimmed but the creature - the Virgo - in front of you is uptight, being busy doing some work - whatever it might be - but still keep a gentle smile on the lips. “Sorry, I’m in a hurry, please don’t mind the mess.” Mess she says, but you cannot even see a bit of dust on the book shelf. “Please, sit down, do you want something to drink? I cannot let you stay for a long time, but I already know what you might want to know, if you don’t mind answering you question.” Surprised you nod. “I a, work and service, as you can see. I am duty, social integration, physic healthiness, one ones limits and the limit of the others. the balance between my own needs and the ones of the environment.”

seventh house: This door is already open. You are surprised and carefully look into the room. There is a comfortable looking bedroom, its furniture is held in warm colors, there is much light shining inside since the windows are very high and there are no curtains. The Libra is walking directly towards you, a soft smile on the lips and a glass of water in the other hand. “Hey, how are you? Just passing by?” You nod and ask if you are allowed to sit down on the sofa, Libra nods and sits down with you. “Sorry, I am just, ahm-” He pauses as he notes down something in a giant book with a dark, cracked leather binding.” You blink  a few times before asking what kind of book Libra is carrying with him. “Oh this? Sometimes I need to note everything down, every person that touched me, I’ve met, you know. You learn so much by being in touch with others.” You nod, it seems right what he says. “You know, I am the development of ones own identity by meeting others. Relationships to others, the You, mental interest, contacts and meetings, harmony, joy and beauty. The partner, the person opposite as my projection surface, cooperation, socialization, coming together and working together.”

eight house: This door seems made out of stone. You are struggling to open it. Are you allowed to open it? The atmosphere is tense and you hear a vibrant sound somewhere. Next to you  in the hallway is a small window, which you look out of. There is the deep, blackness of the night sky, golden stars are adorning it, among them the white, glowing, milky moon, who whispers sweet promises and goodbyes to you. Suddenly the stone door is opening, you jump in shook and your heartbeat raises as you see red glowing eyes watching you from the dark behind it. “Hello. What do you want”, a deep, echoing voice asks you. Your hands are shaking, you are frightened and at the same time deeply hypnotized. “You are Scorpio, right?” The eyes keep on starring. “I am.” You swallow and ask if you may enter. “I am the darkness that you desire, the occult, the interest, I am passion, desire, transformation, the taboo, the darker side and death. Are you sure you want to come in?” You do not hesitate, but nod instantly. “Hmpf.” A pale hand grabs yours, the skin tone seems too pale for something living, but indeed the hand is warm and you feel oddly safe. 

ninth house: You had to climb a long spiral staircase in order to get to this room. Exhausted you breath desperately for air before realizing that you are in a giant tower. This door is slightly opened and you hear music faintly whispering in your ear. “Sorry?”, you ask as you see the Sagittarius twirling around in the room, a couple of maps in the hand. The room is full of possessions, pictures, books, paintings and different furniture from all over the world. Suddenly the Sagittarius stops, his brown eyes vividly laying on you. “Oh hi, didn’t see you there”, he says as he lays down the old maps. You remark the exciting and interesting looking room, it smells like jasmine in here. “You are the urge for more and exploration?”, you ask and the Sagittarius smiles. “I am not only that. I am your conscious mind, always growing, always developing, asking for the meaning of life. I am wanting to expand one’ philosophy, higher norms and values, abstract way of thinking, education and different cultures, explorations and the way of understanding. I am your ideal, your religious and spiritual life.”

tenth house: You knocked almost three times but no one seems to open this door. You are wondering what might happened to the person inside it. You try pushing it as you hear a stricter, cold voice: “Try ringing the bell instead.” It came out of the intercom. “Sorry, I-” 
“It’s alright, I don’t mind. Come in.” The door opens from its own and you are intimidated by the big entry. A woman with a suitcase and silky trouser suit walks towards you, the sound of her shoes echoing from the walls. “Hi, I am Capricorn, Excuse me, but I do not like this knocking, there is a bell for a reason.” You look into her grey eyes and even though her facial expressions seems hard you know she is gentle. You apologize but she laughs it off. “I have a meeting at six, and I know what you want - Virgo already called me -, so I am explaining everything now - oh, here take a seat, coffee and biscuits are here on the table.” You do as she said but are somehow a  bit too nervous to eat. “I am the development and realization of ones goals in life or even destiny. I am the public, ones image, law, order and authority. Honor, responsibility, appeal and the position you take in society.”

eleventh house: “Hi, here do I live”, the shield hanging on the door says. Sadly it does not say who “I” is. You ring the door bell and the bell ringing sounds differently than usual. It is longer and you have never heard this kind of melody as a door bell before. “Come in”, someone says quietly. The light is dimmed, and you see Aquarius in front of his Laptop on his bed. “Sorry, had no time tying up, I am trying to connect to this live broadcast of the speech from this dude here, he’s responsible for this rather extreme party and - ah, it’s not working, damn it.” He closes the Laptop and offers you a seat on his bed. “Nice to meet you, want some coffee?” He offers you a cup but takes it back immediately. “Sorry, paint water in there, not coffee, ha. Nice jacket, you come here often?” You shake your head and smile. He is funny and unusual, you like it. “Actually, I wanted to know who..” 
“I am? Well, I am the development of your goals regarding society. The zeitgeist, friends, communities, reforms, ambitions and change. Emancipation, patronage, rebellion, humanitarian and social ideals, also hopes and desires. 

twelfth house: The last door. Your journey was long but everything has an end and you know that the person behind this door knows this feeling too well - that the circle is closing, ending and repeats itself afterwards. You open the door, knowing you do not have to knock. You step into radiant, glowing, crystal blue water. The water is flowing in circles and Pisces is standing there, the softest smile on the lips, eyes so warm and understanding, the head lightly tilted. You are enchanted by the tingling sensation of the water and as you grab Pisces hands, they are warm and soft. “Do not be afraid. I am endless devotion. Endless devotion without losing ground underneath you feet. I am the other meta-level. Delusional, transparent, drawn to fleeing from fears, but always love deep inside. Come, you can visit the other realm with me now.”

jacytheblue  asked:

I have so many feelings about Steve Trevor in Wonder Woman, jaded and accepting of his fate and participation in the war, clearly used to going at it alone but his willingness to go along with Diana! How he is so charmed by her sincerity and love for life! He seemed weary before he met her, just going through the motions in this unceasing war but how he looks at Diana and thinks, begs of her to believe in humanity, I just weep. I wish he could have seen the armistice, I wish he could have lived.

I was already full of appreciation for steve trevor, and now that we have seen the WEIRD, THREATENED-BY-FEMALE-STRENGTH, SELF-INSERT TRAVESTY that would have been joss whedon’s version of the character….my appreciation for him has ballooned even further.

the world needs more men who will look at the ladies in their lives with an expression halfway between ‘please tie me to the bed’ and ‘I want to be you when I grow up’, (exhibit b: jake peralta.)

Hyrule lives on in you 

Hi-res from the latest Diary Entry. Not my best work, and mostly fuelled by hat related resentment, but it was a lot of fun working the Sheikah/Jomon style patterns into the panels. 

Fanart for @geekenders reboot of Portal 2: The (Unauthorized) Musical! I sincerely wish I could have seen it live, but Vancouver is very far from South Carolina! Regardless, I’m a big fan and I look forward to the YouTube release so I can see what y’all have done with it this time around. I know tonight is the last showing, so good luck everyone! :D

8

Goodbye Rickon Stark (interpreted by Art Parkinson)

“Are we going home? I want my horse. And I want applecakes and butter and honey, and Shaggy. Are we going where Shaggydog is?”

@thatwetwomaybeone asked: We know Murtagh dies at Culloden ,I can’t recall Jamie talking much about him after although he must have missed his god father terribly .Could we have a story about Jamie and Claire talking about Murtagh and how much they miss him in their life .


They stood at the edge of the field, neither wishing to be the first to set foot on it.

“Have ye been here… then?” Jamie asked quietly, as though his voice would disturb someone but there were no living creatures to be seen in the short scrubby grass that unevenly covered the terrain.

“I went once before I ever came here,” Claire responded. “Before I knew anyone who…” but she couldn’t finish her thought.

Their horses stamped impatiently from where Jamie had hobbled them. They were on their way to Lallybroch, having fulfilled their duties escorting the body of one Simon Fraser home to Scotland. Neither had thought much about how close their journey would take them to Culloden Moor until they were practically upon it. Had they been on their own instead of together, neither would have had the strength to face it.

“Is it as desolate in yer time then, Sassenach?”

“In my experience, battlefields––no matter how far removed from the fight itself––are never cheerful places again,” she told him. “There will be cairns and markers. I don’t remember quite where, but for each of the clans… probably where their men were buried.”

Jamie looked around. It was sunnier than it had been the last time but he could still see the echoes of men on either side right down to the desperation and willingness to die on some of their faces; he hadn’t seen it but he knew he’d worn the same expression that day. He took a halting step forward and then another.

“We came down this way,” he said flatly.

Claire followed slowly behind him, willing herself to see what he saw but also shying away from it.

“Then, I moved… this direction––had to… there was such a press of men…” He wandered a little towards the right and down into a slightly lower pocket of growth, not large enough to be a true gully but it had offered a little protection from the canonfire, the angle too much for them to handle.

There were still large gaps in Jamie’s memory of that day. He didn’t recall seeing Black Jack Randall except after the man was dead and lying on top of him. He didn’t recall the face of the man who had slashed his leg and nearly killed him––for all he knew it might have been Randall to do it. He didn’t recall who it was that had struck the blow that eventually killed Murtagh.

But he knew the spot where it had happened as soon as he set foot on it. A chill went up his spine and then he felt a solid hand rest reassuringly on his shoulder. Looking up, he saw Claire watching him from several feet away.

He spoke quietly and used the Gáidhlig so that Claire wouldn’t hear him.

“There are so many things I wish ye could have lived to see, though I dinna ken that ye’d have been patient enough to wait for them all… I nearly wasn’t,” he murmured with a smile. “She looks like my mam… my Brianna does. Takes after her in other ways too. And her wee Jem… Though he puts me in mind of Willie, I ken ye’d have more stories of how he’s a devil like I was at his age.” Jamie’s smile faded and he swallowed hard. “I think their lass, Mandy will favor Claire and heaven help them if she takes after her grannie in finding trouble. And there’s my lad… William––though… callin’ him ‘mine’ still doesna feel quite right… Ye’d have a thing or two to say on the matter, I’m sure. Ye’d have plenty to say on all of them…

“I hope ye ken how I’ve tried to keep ye wi’ me, always…” Jamie’s voice grew thick, the words harder to say. “I was in such pain losin’ Claire… but losin’ you too made it harder. Not havin’ ye there to talk to… I did try to think what yer advice to me would ha’ been… though I’m sure I got it wrong from time to time… I hope I’ve done ye proud, though, and I want ye to know… I ken I’m a better man for having had ye at my side for as long as I did and I’d be better still if ye’d been there longer. Thank ye, for all ye did for me and mine. I’ll no let ye be forgotten.”

The feeling of weight left his shoulder and something within Jamie felt lighter.

Claire watched Jamie with his head bent and his hands cradled in front of him, his lips whispering a quick prayer.

They didn’t speak of Murtagh often the same way they didn’t speak of Faith often. The pain of such loss was simply a part of them the way the scars on Jamie’s back were a part of him or Claire’s curls were a part of her.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say a proper goodbye,” she whispered to the low breeze, hoping it would carry her words wherever they needed to go. “I sometimes wonder what things might’ve been like if we hadn’t gone to Paris; if we hadn’t gotten involved in affairs the way we did. I don’t know that what we did was entirely fair to you.” Tears pricked unexpectedly at her eyes and she reached up to wipe them away. “You deserved more––you deserved better than to end up here on that day… If I’d been here I might’ve been able to do something… If I’d never come at all maybe neither of you would have been here that day… But I don’t regret any of it and I’m sure you understand––you loved him too… Thank you for keeping him safe, for protecting him and watching over him when I wasn’t there. I wish I could have done more for you, that you could have seen Bree and the children… Or maybe you can… They wouldn’t exist if not for you.”

She blinked back the remaining tears in her eyes. Jamie had made his way back over to Claire and slipped his hand into hers. It was still a slightly awkward fit without that third finger but they held tightly to each other all the same.

With a solemn nod, they redirected their steps toward the horses. They had seen enough of Culloden Moor.

Imagine being pen palls with Peter Parker, living far from the streets of New York and Peter telling you all about his life as Spider-Man, before anyone else knows his secret...

Dear Y/N

It’s been a while since I’ve written you a letter, hasn’t it? 

I’m sorry about that, I’ve just had a lot to deal with.

You might have seen the news, so you know of what happened in Germany… but on the bright side I got a new suit! Mr. Stark did amazing making me one, I wish you could feel the fabric, it’s very soft! 

I hope you’re doing good. 

From Peter

Originally posted by josie605


*gif not mine*

3

Hey AvAc friends!

I guess it’s already been found out, but I’m immensely proud to announce that I voice Amadeus Cho aka Totally Awesome Hulk in Avengers Academy! :)

Like, you don’t even know! Haha. To get to voice not one, but TWO, great Asian characters in this game? Amazing. Really fills that Asian pride within me. 

Not to mention, when I booked the part, I dove head first into “Totally Awesome Hulk” and “Monsters Unleashed”. Had to catch up on what I’ve been missing. LOVE this character. Love who he is, what he’s gone through, and how much of a positive influence his existence is. Not only for kids and the people reading it, but for the Asian community and representation as a whole! The issue where they formed the Champions and it’s an all Asian superhero team?? Like, come on. That’s… totally awesome. Haha.

I hope you guys have been liking the event so far. I’ve been perusing the tag and I’ve seen a mixed bunch. I’m so sorry that he’s premium! But someone had to be, I guess! Haha. I wish he could be more obtainable for you. But for those that have recruited him, I hope you like what you got! Hope he lives up to the Chulk name.
Really wish I could voice lil’ Ammy again for something a little more fleshed out and long term. I love this guy!

Thanks again for being such a cool community! Enjoy the event! I’ll probably be reblogging as much as I can throughout it. Haha.

Making Fun a Priority III

For Ash’s Writing Challenge Round 3. My prompt was Vibrator… never really used kinks in my stories before (intentionally, at least) so bear with me guys… Before I get started though, I think I should mention that I won’t be using the prompt how most people probably think it would be used… I know that might not make sense, but all I can really say without giving up too much is that I’ll be using vibrations and not a vibrator.

Summary: Brandi was on cloud nine. It had been a few days since she and Negan had been together, and she was still coming down from the high he’d given her. But despite how good she still felt, Brandi was sure that Negan was done with her. That he’d had his fun and that it was over… Oh boy is she in for a surprise…

Warnings: smut and language.

Bamby

I felt amazing. I felt like I was on top of the world. My smile hadn’t left my lips once over the last two days. Nothing could ruin the mood I was in. I felt incredible. Well… for the most part I did. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I was still buzzing from sleeping with Negan. I still couldn’t believe it had actually happened. But it had been a short-lived moment.

After we’d had sex, Negan and I had fallen asleep. By the time I woke up, it was dark and I was alone.

Negan had been nice enough to set some clothes on the end of his bed, for me to wear. Seeing as my clothes were still very wet and very muddy, he’d given me a pair of black sweat pants, and one of his white shirts. Of course, Negan and I had completely different body shapes and sizes… Where he was tall, I was tiny. Where he was lean and muscled, I was on the almost-too-unhealthy side of thin.

When I put his clothes on, I had to use my hair tie to tie pants so they’d stay in place. I also had to roll them up and hope I wouldn’t trip- though knowing me I still would. The shirt was baggy, but not to the point where I was at risk of revealing anything, which meant I didn’t have to worry about it too much. Though my anxiety constantly had me checking to make sure I wasn’t flashing anything. He’d left me some socks as well, which were the only form of footwear I had to wear, to get back to my room.

Keep reading

Snowball Part 5!!!

Heyo. Again I’m gonna start this off by apologising for the lack of updates on this, I haven’t even been that busy, I’m just lazy like I have no excuse haha. Thanks to anyone still following this, I really do appreciate it and without messages and stuff this honestly wouldn’t have gone past the first chapter xx.



Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4

Feyre had been working for a few weeks at Mor’s coffee shop now. She worked most days when Tamlin was home, and every day when he was out of town for business. Mor loved having Feyre around to laugh with and had even told her last week that her coffee making skills had considerably improved, but Mor would still politely refuse when Feyre offered to make her a coffee. 

It was long hours and the morning rush could be hectic at best, but Feyre enjoyed the challenge and it occupied her lonesome thoughts. When Tamlin was home he would disappear into his study for hours or be lost in his own thoughts when they decided to go out places for dinner. Feyre didn’t want to talk to him about his work though as she knew it would just worsen his mood, and he had made it very clear he hated talking about work with her. 

Feyre had walked in one morning to see Mor attempting to decorate their specials board with crude attempts at stick figures. Feyre hadn’t meant to laugh but it caught her by surprise.

“I know I’m not very artistic but you know it’s bad when even your stick men get laughed at.” Mor huffed.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed but … does one of them have two heads?”

Mor sighed, “No, it was supposed to be a Christmas hat.”

Hesitantly, Feyre reached for Mor’s chalk, “May I?”

Mor looked surprised but handed the chalk over. She left to keep setting up chairs and tables while Feyre drew. She had a number of paints and canvas’s at home but she hadn’t felt any desire to paint lately, but Feyre got lost in her own drawing and hadn’t even noticed Mor peering over her shoulder.

“Oh my god it looks fantastic!” Mor squealed, making Feyre jump.

Feyre looked it over once, it wasn’t amazing. Done with cheap chalk and in just a few minutes, but it passed for a Winter wonderland scene with snowflakes, reindeer, and people huddled around a fire holding cups of steaming coffee. From then on Mor always got Feyre to decorate the boards after she had written on them.

Mor would sometimes leave Feyre alone for a few hours when it was quiet so she could run some errands and the trust Mor had in her blew Feyre away. Even if she wasn’t always left by herself. Most days Mor’s friends frequented the store such as Amren, a small but wicked looking woman who awed Feyre but also made her want to avoid eye contact. Amren was nothing but friendly towards Feyre and would always leave her an especially big tip so Feyre made an effort to make small talk. Amren owned her own jewellery store where she made her own accessories and was an old friend of Mor and Rhysand’s family.

Rhys’s brutish looking friends, Cassian and Azriel, were also usually hanging around the shop. Their favourite table was hidden away in a dark corner where Azriel would all but vanish in the darkness, but since Feyre had started working, Cassian would drag Azriel to tables that were closer to the counter so they could talk. Despite their imposing looks, Feyre found both of them to be quite friendly towards her and it wasn’t long before she found herself smiling before they had even entered the shop as she could hear their booming voices approaching from halfway down the street. They ordered the same thing every day, just a black coffee for Azriel, no sugar, and Cassian always had the most expensive and extravagant, whipped cream topped coffee they served, complete with chocolate and caramel syrup. 

Rhys had so far kept his distance.

One morning after Lucien had dropped Feyre off for the day, Mor had been telling Feyre about an awful customer she had once had when the door swept open. Mor stopped mid sentence to beam at whoever had just entered. Feyre had her back to the door but she knew who it was was from the intensity of the gaze she felt was trained on her back.

“Well look who finally decided to come and check up on his shop.” Mor teased.

“You know I’ve been busy Mor. As I’m sure you’ve also been, training Feyre to make coffees that surpass even your own.” Rhysand purred.

Mor scoffed, “Who told you that?”

“Cassian.”

“Next time I’m locking him outside in the cold.” Mor laughed despite her icy tone. “Seriously though are you just passing through or staying for a bit?”

Rhys sighed, “I think I need to just sit down and clear my head. Wanna make me one of your famous coffees?”

“Coming right up!” Mor smiled.

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Rhys said, before flashing me a grin and taking his seat.

“How tragic. Disowned by my own cousin.” Mor said shaking her head. “He likes a cappuccino with two sugars.”

Feyre worked at the machine alongside Mor as she made other orders but Feyre could feel that violet gaze fixed only on her.

“How come Rhys hasn’t been around? Cassian and Azriel are always here.” Feyre asked Mor quietly.

“I think he’s just been really busy lately. He gets restless when he’s stressed so I doubt he wants to hang around here all day.” Mor replied as she turned on the coffee grinder.

The loud machine drowned out most sounds making Feyre nearly having to yell for Mor to hear her.

“Is it work related? The stress I mean.”

“Sort of. He works also as a spokesperson for the Illyrian community, making sure no one treats them badly.”

Feyre hadn’t had much experience with these Illyrians as she had only recently moved to town to be with Tamlin.

“Have people treated them badly in the past?” Feyre ventured.

“Oh Feyre, I wish I could say people in this town weren’t discriminatory but the world just isn’t like that.”

“I’ve never heard of Illyrians.”

“Well you live with Tamlin right? He lives in the flashy part of town, the opposite end to the Illyrian people so you probably haven’t ever seen them.”

Feyre finished making Rhysand’s coffee and moved to bring it out to him when Mor added, “He’s fussy about his coffees, sometimes I have to remake them a few times before he’s satisfied so don’t feel bad if he doesn’t drink it.”

“If he complains we’ll see how much he likes hot coffee poured in his lap.” Feyre said before freezing. Mor had turned the coffee grinder off just as Feyre had started to respond allowing Rhys to hear every word.

Deciding to play it off, Feyre continued on her path to Rhys and set the coffee down before him, arching her eyebrow in a challenge.

Rhys grinned up at her before painstakingly slowly, lifting the cup towards his lips. Feyre watched in anticipation and nearly screamed when he suddenly placed the coffee back on the table.

“It’s a little hot. I think I’ll wait for it to cool. Thank you.” Rhys said while giving her a cocky grin.

Swallowing her annoyance, Feyre marched back behind the counter with a grimace. Mor only laughed, before handing Feyre some new orders.

A few coffees later and Feyre looked up as an empty cup was set on the counter. She looked up to see Rhys gazing at her thoughtfully.

“… Was there anything else I could help you with?” Feyre asked, suddenly remembering that for all his jokes, Rhys was technically her boss.

“You changed the coffee.” Rhys said without any hint of emotion on his face.

Mor, who had been out the back gathering more stock, suddenly reappeared and miserably failed at looking like she wasn’t eavesdropping.

“I tried a different blend. Mor’s been encouraging me to experiment.”

Feyre felt the back of her neck dampen with sweat as Rhys failed to respond, only staring at her mutely.

“Did you like it? I can make another if you didn’t. I’m sorry, I know you like it a particular way-” Feyre babbled before Rhys cut her off.

“It’s okay. I liked it. Could you make me another?” Rhys asked, almost shyly. “Please?” He added as an afterthought.

Feyre nodded unable to speak she was so relieved. Rhys moved back to his table while Mor swooped in on her.

“That was incredible, you even got him to use his manners! I didn’t even see you change up the recipe.” Mor gushed.

But Feyre had already begun making a new coffee and wasn’t really paying attention to Mor.

“He always asks about you.” Mor said quietly.

Feyre froze.

“Nothing weird, just asking how you’re going at work. If you seem happy.” Mor continued.

Feyre said nothing as she went to take out the next coffee to Rhys. He smiled again at her as she placed it down and this time drank from it immediately. Mor watched them from the counter, an odd look on her face.

Over the next few days Rhys would come into the store and ask Feyre to make him a coffee. Sometimes he stayed to chat with her or Mor, other times he would have to leave quickly. Cassian and Azriel asked to try the special coffee that Rhys kept having but neither of them seemed to like it. When Amren asked to try it, she all but spat it back in the cup with an apologetic look at Feyre afterwards, “Sorry, I guess everyone likes their coffee differently.”

Feyre never made Rhys’s coffee for anyone else from then on.

One morning, Rhys was sitting in his usual spot by the counter where he could talk, and more often, tease Feyre, when Mor rushed in.

“I’m sorry I’m late Feyre! Everything’s been okay?” She asked.

“It’s fine, everything’s been going good today except for that weird guy who keeps trying to talk to me.” Feyre laughed while motioning at Rhys.

Rhys just winked and said, “I can’t start my morning without a coffee and your sweet face anymore Feyre Darling.”

Feyre responded with her usual, “Prick”, before turning away to serve a customer.

“She seems to have warmed up to you.” Mor said breezing past Rhys.

When there was no longer any people to serve, Rhys joined Feyre and Mor at the counter. He was staring at the specials board which still showed part of Feyre’s Winter wonderland scene and now also had a drawing of a coffee with a Santa face dusted in the foam.

“Now I know you didn’t draw this Mor.”

“First, I’m offended you think I have no artistic skills. Second, I’m impressed with how well you know me. Feyre is our resident artist.”

“You’re very good, ever think about doing an arts degree?” Rhysand said to Feyre.

“I have… but I don’t really think it’s for me.”

“Why not? You clearly have the talent for it.”

“I already told you, I can’t.” Feyre said angrily.

She turned from him and went to clear some dirty tables. When she returned Mor and Rhys abruptly stopped their conversation.

“Well I’m going to go do a stock order, Feyre do you think you could update the specials board? Thanks!” Mor said chirpily before disappearing out back.

Fear seized Feyre as she wiped clean the board. Rhys hadn’t said anything since she’d finished cleaning and she didn’t appreciate the way his keen eyes watched her. Feyre held up the chalk just inches from the board but couldn’t bring herself to write anything.

“What’s wrong?” Rhys asked, concern tingeing his voice.

“Nothing. I just don’t feel like doing this right now.” Feyre was horrified to feel tears beginning to well up.

Now Rhys seemed really concerned. “Feyre?” He asked. “Are you okay? Talk to me.”

Feyre couldn’t even look at him she was so embarrassed. She fought with herself for what felt like hours. On one hand she wanted to tell Rhys about her biggest weakness. But on the other, she knew she could be mocked for it or even worse, lose her job over it, and Feyre did not want to stop seeing her friends.

She almost said nothing. Almost brushed it off with an excuse. But when she looked up at Rhys’s face, his eyes were so open and trusting. Nothing but understanding touched his gaze and Feyre knew he had already guessed as much.

“I can’t read.”

Rhys nodded as if he knew all along. “Does Tamlin know?”

“Yes.”

“And he never thought to teach you? Or get someone else to?” Now there was anger laced in his words. It instantly made Feyre recoil.

“It’s not like that. I’ve never really had to learn. And it’s not like I’m completely stupid, I’ve memorised a few basic words.”

Rhys paused.

“I’ve upset you. I’m sorry, I don’t think you’re stupid at all.” Rhys quickly apologised.

There was an awkward silence before Feyre spoke again. “I had only just started school when my mother died. My father lost everything to his grief. I dropped out of school to help out around the house. I did paper rounds to get money for food.”

“Where is your family now?”

“A few towns over. When I met Tamlin he wanted me to move in with him almost immediately but I couldn’t leave my family alone. So Tamlin promised they’d be looked after if I went with him.”

“Is that why you’ve never applied to college?”

Feyre nodded.

Rhys pondered this. He started saying something before dropping it entirely. Taking a deep breath he tried a different tactic. “First, let me say that I think you’re incredible for putting your family over your own education. And while it makes no difference to me, and it doesn’t change who you are, but, if you’d like, I could teach you.”

Feyre was speechless. To her, providing and looking after her family had been second nature. No one, not even her father or sisters had ever really thanked her for it. And while it had never caused her regret, Feyre had always hated that small illiterate part of herself. She owned a phone but could barely use it. She had a job but only because it consisted of little reading. It was this that made her reach for Rhys’s hand to shake.

“Deal.”

Rhys held her hand for just a little longer than was necessary but it didn’t feel odd to Feyre at all.

Run

MASTERLIST 

Originally posted by chimneytaels

Genre: Angst/Fluff 

Characters: You x Hoseok

Word Count: 1.5K

Plot: Hoseok looks like trouble, so you’re surprised when he keeps you safe when you’re in trouble.

(Y/N) = Your Name


Hey sweetie, you look good in that outfit.

You hurried away from the strange man, but it only made him quicken his pace.

Where’re you going hun’?” The man, walking close behind you, exhaled some smoke from his cigarette near your face. 

“Please leave me alone,” you said desperately, on the verge of tears. 

You didn’t stop your pace and tried your best to get away from the stranger. Wherever you went, he followed. You wanted to run but didn’t– you were afraid that he would chase you and you would end up in the worst scenario possible. 

Sweetie, don’t walk away from me,” the man grabbed your hand and pulled you to a stop. You tried your best to yank it away but his grip was tight. 

“Let go!” You screamed through clenched teeth. This time, your tears poured out. You didn’t know what to do. It was dark and there was no one around to help. It was late, almost midnight, and you just wanted to go home. It was only you versus the big, strange man.

“Please! What do you want?” You cried. The man still didn’t let go of your arm. You didn’t look at his face, it would only scare you more than you already were.

“What do I want?” He laughed. The man stepped closer to you. You felt your heart beat faster and faster, almost like it was going to run out of your body and leave you there struggling.

“I want–”

The man’s words were interrupted when he was pushed. He let go of your hand as he fell to the ground. 

“Oh– sorry,” said a voice from behind him. It was a boy who looked like he was in a rush. "I didn’t see you.“ 

You looked at the boy, then to the man who was fuming with anger on the ground. You wanted to run away, you should have, but your feet were frozen to the ground.

The boy apologized once again to the man then stepped over him. He walked past you, but turned to look at your face. Maybe it was your tears or the fact that you were shivering, but something about you made the boy stop.

He looked back to the man on the ground, then back to you. Then, out of nowhere, the boy quickly grabbed your arm and pulled you with him. 

You were shocked and scared with his sudden gesture. He ran and you were forced to run with him. His grip was tight around your arm, as if he was afraid you would fly away if he let you go. 

Get back here you slut!“ You heard the man cry. You tried to look back, but the boy was pulling your arm so hard that you couldn’t.

After about two blocks, the boy turned a corner and slowed his pace. 

"What are–” you started to say, trying to catch your breath. “What are you doing?”

After panting for a bit, you looked up to the boy who himself looked out of breath. He wore a grey hoodie and dark pants. His hair was black and messed up, like he was wearing his hood earlier. You could see some beads of sweat coming from his forehead. You didn’t know who this boy was, and he looked like danger. 

“I don’t know,” the boy breathed. “I was just trying to help you. Are you alright?" 

He looked down to you with a concerned look on his face. He saw you holding your arm with pain and he sighed.

"Woah, did I do that?” The boy asked, sounding guilty as he looked at your swollen arm. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to! Are you okay? Does it hurt–" 

"It wasn’t you! It was that man,” you assured.

The boy still looked at your with worry. He didn’t say anything, just watched you while you dealt with your thoughts. The silence was too much for you, and you suddenly found yourself in tears.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that man–” you sniffed. “I lost my bus pass and didn’t have any change… I thought it was safe enough to walk home from school but–" 

The boy placed a hand on your back softly and patted it.

"It’s okay. I wish I could help you but I don’t have any change on me. Do you live around here?” The boy asked 

You shook your head with your head low and quietly told him your address.

“Ah, okay. It’s pretty late, we should get going then,” He said.

You looked up at him with a questioning look. He gave off a vibe that made you think he was trouble. But at the same time, he looked like the nicest person in the world. When he saw you looking at him, he looked down at you and gave you the friendliest smile you’ve ever seen. That’s when you decided that he was the latter.

“I’m Hoseok by the way,” he said.

“Y/N." 

The whole walk to your home was silent. Hoseok kept his hood up and his hands in his pockets. He didn’t really look to you much, and he only talked when you told him which way to turn. He still recognized your presence, however. Whenever you walked on the outer part of the sidewalk, he always traded places with you. And he always put his arm out in front of you when he felt like you didn’t see the stop sign at a crosswalk due to your head being hung low.

"I don’t mean to be nosey, but do you go to the downtown university?” Hoseok suddenly asked.

“What?” You asked. You were so used to the silence that his voice shocked you.

“It’s just, you mentioned that you were coming home from school and the downtown university was close by–”

“Ohh, yeah I do,” you said. 

Hoseok looked to you and raised his brows. “Really? Me too!" 

"You do?” You asked in an unintentionally surprised tone. Hoseok chuckled and turned away. 

“I know, I know. I look like a bum who dropped out of high school to pursue a career on my own, who also, in my free time, draws art, not graffiti, on public buildings and buses in my free time,” Hoseok laughed. “But really, I do go to the downtown university.”

“No, it’s not that!” You said in the most apologetic voice possible. You felt so bad and didn’t mean it in the way it sounded. “I just never seen you around or anything. Not on campus or at the bus stop." 

"Well, I take later classes because I’d rather die than wake up at 6 am every morning, and I live nearby the school, so I don’t take the bus.” He shrugged as he spoke.

“Wait– you live near the school? Then why are you walking me home? Do you know how far you’ll have to walk back?" 

You felt worse the more Hoseok spoke. First of all, for assuming that he was trouble when you first saw him. And second, because everything you said to him felt as if you were insulting him.

"Don’t worry about me. I needed the exercise anyways. Besides, it’s a beautiful night.”

The rest of the way to your home was spent getting to know Hoseok better. You found out that he was taking computer science and was in his final year of university. He lived in a tiny apartment above his uncle’s repair shop and worked as a mechanic part time.

Eventually, the two of you reached your home.

“Thanks, Hoseok. You really didn’t have to walk me home,” you said as you stepped in front of him. 

“It’s fine, really.” He shrugged.

You studied his face and could tell he was tired. He had bags under his eyes and some strands of hair stuck down on his face as it was wet from sweat.

“You know… you can stay over if you want. I know we just met and I don’t want to sound like a creep or anything, but in reality, it’s not realistic for you to walk home that far or this late” you suggested awkwardly. 

“I shouldn’t–" 

"It’s fine, really,” you laughed, mocking his tone from earlier.

“I don’t want to barge in your home like that. Plus won’t you get in trouble for bringing home some strange guy you met on the streets?" 

When he put it like that, it did seem kind of strange. Earlier, you wouldn’t have trusted him. But you go to know him and he was really an angel. Besides, you owed him it. He saved you earlier and even walked you home to make sure you were safe.

"Just come on,” you said as you grabbed his arm, pulling him up your driveway and to your door. “You can sleep on the couch" 

Hoseok laughed and finally gave in– not that he had a choice. He was forced to run with you.


Thanks for reading! :)  PS, please don’t invite a stranger into your home, even if he’s as angelic as Hoseok lmao

I don’t get how libfems can all agree that women are raised to be a certain way against our choice (small, submissive, etc) and men a certain way (take up all the space, believe they’re always right, etc) but …not believe that transwomen, having been seen and raised as men for most of their lives, would not also be subject to that? you literally don’t get to choose what part of societal sexism affects you, you DONT get to identify in or out of oppression, it’s not that damn simple to say “but they’re women” like OK but they were RAISED AS BOYS ARE RAISED they were STILL SUBJECT to that. I didn’t get to identify out of being raised as a girl, as much as I wish I could, and you don’t get to identify out of being the oppressor!!! you don’t!!!!!!

Behind The Scenes 3 (17/21)

Author’s note: I know this one is shorter than usual, sorry about that. Sorry for any errors.

Word count: 2192

Genre: angst?drama? idk (Suga, Jhope, Jungkook)

City: Singapore (Day 3)

Summary: Suga and Jhope confront Y/n about her cutting them out.

Other parts: HERE

This is my GIF. I made it based off of this scenario series.


Now that you were back from the concert, Jungkook looked as tired as ever. In your opinion, it was his own fault for being so extra the entire time. Then again, he was probably just happy things were back to normal for the two of you. The whole day before the performance was filled with his non-stop attention to make up for the day you were not speaking to him.

You wanted to see the smile back on his face so you told him a few nice words. “You guys did great today, you especially!” you smiled.

“Well, thank you for noticing.” A bit of life now back in his face.

“You seem extra tired right now, you should take a shower first.” You said.

A smirk grew on his face and he stepped closer to you. “Ok, but how about you join me?”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him. “How about no!”

Jungkook laughed at the rejection. He wanted to keep going, but he held himself back, he knew better than to push things with you. “Well, if you change your mind, feel free to just hop in.” He walked over to his suitcase and began rummaging through it for his sleep clothes.

Oddly enough, there was a knock at the door that surprised the both of you.

“I’ll get it.” you offered and walked over to see who it was.

You looked through the peephole to see Suga and Jhope standing out in the hallway looking like lost and tired puppies. When you opened the door, they jumped up and turned to you with much urgency.

“Y/n, we need to talk.” Suga blurted out

You looked between the two of them blankly, still not wanting to talk to them. You slowly closed the door, but Jhope desperately threw his foot in its path and kept it from closing.

“Y/n.” Suga said in a soft voice. “You promised me that’d we’d talk later, now it’s later.”

He was right. You kept up with the whole silent treatment going on for long enough. Without a word, you walked back in to the room, leaving the door open so they can follow you inside. “Who was at the door, ba-“ Jungkook’s words stopped when he looked up from his suitcase and saw Suga and Jhope step into the room. “Hm? What are you guys doing here?”

“We came to have a talk with y/n.” Jhope answered.

Jungkook looked at you as your eyes wandered around the room. He came up to you and whispered, “Jimin told me everything. Are you cool with this?”

You nodded. “Just go take a shower.”

Jungkook let you all be. He walked past the three of you and to the bathroom. However, without anyone noticing, he only stayed by the restroom door and kept his eye on you as the conversation was about to begin.

“What do you guys want?” you asked.

Jhope looked over at Suga and Suga nodded that he could speak first. “Y/n, what did we do to you that you won’t speak to us?” Jhope asked.

You let out a heavy sigh, preparing for a lengthy explanation.

“Whatever we did, whatever I did, I’m sorry. We just don’t want you pushing us away like this.” Jhope added.

“… I don’t trust you guys.” you finally admitted.

The two of them looked confused and Suga was quick to get offended. “What do you mean you don’t trust us? We are your friends!”

“No, you’re not!” you raised your voice right back at him.

“Of course we’re your friends! How could you say that?!?” Jhope was confused more than anything.

You scoffed at him. “Then it doesn’t come off that way. It hasn’t in a long time!”

“What do you mean?” Suga asked.

You could feel your eyes stinging a bit at just the thought of what you were going to say, but you did your best to kept yourself at bay. “For months the both of you have been brushing me off! I’m always last for you two! You never pay attention to me cuz you were both too busy getting drunk or high, o-or when you were both lying to Aiko and Mei-hui! There was never any time for me, not even when I need you guys!”

“What are you talking about?” Suga snapped. “We have been by your side since the beginning! We have always been looking out for you!”

“But what about now?!?” your voice cracked a bit. “I need you guys now too!”

They both stayed quiet for a moment. “But we have been trying to talk to you! You were the one that was pushing us away!” Suga retorted.

“You only came to me when you were done with everything else. I was never a priority! It took you guys a few days to even realize that I wasn’t talking to either of you! Did you guys know what happened back in Beijing? Namjoon got after me and almost gave me a concussion cuz it looked like I was having “too much fun” on Jungkook’s birthday outing! Afterwards, I was scared and crying so Jungkook went to get one of you guys, but neither of you weren’t able to talk let alone be there for me!”

Both of them stayed quiet.

“Yoongi!” you finally used Suga’s real name. “Remember that little deal you made with Hiro? Big surprise, it didn’t work!” you whimpered. “Back in Os- in… in Osaka, Jimin and I were locked in the room with him! It was between me and Jimin and he came after me first!  H-h-he told me he didn’t care about the stupid money! He was going to take me if he wanted to! If-If it wasn’t for Ji-Jimin, who knows what he would have done to me!”

With tears in his eyes, Jhope asked, “Why didn’t you ever tell us? You still could have come talk to us about it…”

“Don’t say we weren’t there for you y/n! How could we have known any of this if you never said anything?!?” Suga said.

“You could have come to my room and come talk to me like before! You guys never came anymore and when I’d talk to you guys you were always on your fucking phones! It was always Mei-hui this and Aiko that! Both of you doing just as that monster told you, but what about me?!?”

“We had to!” Suga raised his voice a bit. “All this Aiko and Mei-hui stuff was for Namjoon, yeah, but it was also a way to protect you!”

“No!” you yelled. “No, no, no!” you were losing control of your voice again. “Don’t give me that bullshit! I was supposed to be the mule! Me! It was never supposed to be anyone else, but you went and opened your fucking mouth and made him change his mind! Plus, the whole reason I was supposed to be the mule in the first place is so that Hoseok can keep his fucking pills! Everything revolves around those damn fucking pills and I’m sick of it!”

Jhope lowered his head, but Suga kept at it. “I wasn’t gonna put you through having to be the mule for the whole tour! I wasn’t gonna risk anything happening to you or you getting hurt from it!” He insisted as he took a step towards you.

“So it was better to get six other girls instead?!?” you fought back.

“We care about you y/n! I care about you! At the end of the day, they were random girls, what mattered to me was that you were okay and that Namjoon got what he wanted so he wouldn’t use you against us!”

Suga’s words disgusted you. “Fuck you!” you shouted. “Don’t you hear the sick shit that’s coming out of your mouth?!?”. Your eyes shot between the two of them. Jhope had stray tears rolling down his face, while Suga fought to keep his composure. “Both of you make me sick!” you spat. “Back before the tour there was a time that I really needed you guys.” you paused to clear your throat. “I was really lonely and I felt abandoned cuz it was months s-since you guys had even snuck into my room to talk to me…” your voice began to falter, but you tried hard to keep speaking. “This was before anything had happened with Hiro and I just needed a friend. I wasn’t close to Tae or Jungkook or Jimin yet, so I looked for you guys.” you let out an ironic chuckle just thinking back to that day. You felt so stupid that at one point you felt Suga or Jhope could be there for you. “I wanted someone to vent to so I went to Hoseok’s room, but as usual, he was as high as a fucking kite!” you glared had shift from Jhope to Suga. “So I went to your room Yoongi. And no surprise, you were as wasted as can be! Stupid me stayed in your room though. I was that desperate to talk to one of my “friends”.” You studied their faces and they both looked so lost, as if you were speaking a different language. “And you wanna know what happened? You fucking kissed me because you thought I was Aiko!

“Huh? I don’t remember that!” Suga said quietly to himself, a perplexed look stayed on his face as you continued to yell at them.

“You should have heard the things you were saying that night! I know you cared about her so don’t fucking tell me she was just “some random girl” or that you were just “following orders”. I started off as just some random girl! What makes me any different from the rest of them?!? Mei-hui, Aiko, Eunhee, Lailani, Chuntao and whoever the next girl is, they were all girls that trusted you guys and were manipulated!… I’ve been stuck with you guys for what feels like years now and I’ve seen all side of you guys and accepted it all… but this, this is something else entirely! My life is not worth the lives of six others!” you cried. “I should be the one that’s dead, not the rest of those girls! It should be my body lost somewhere!” your sobs grew louder and you could feel yourself getting lost in what you were originally trying to say. “I should be dead! I should have died a long time ago! You should have let him kill me!” you screamed. “I fucking hate my fucking life! I wish I was fucking dead! If I knew this was gonna happen, I would have gladly let Namjoon kill me!”

Both boys were now overfilled with guilt and were in tears just as you were. Jhope came up to you and hugged you. He was too distraught and didn’t realize how loud he was when he said. “No y/n! Please don’t say that! Please!”

You tried to push him off because he was basically screaming in your ear.

Suga was about to walk up to you and do the same when Jungkook appeared. He pushed passed Suga and pulled Jhope off you. “Both of you leave her alone!” he ordered.

“You shut the fuck up!” Suga shouted at Jungkook. “I’m tired of your ass always getting in between us and y/n. Mind your own damn business!” Suga shouted, pulling Jungkook away from the three of you.

“It involves y/n, so it is my business!”

Suga could feel his emotions boiling. “Fuck you! You don’t mean anything to her!”

“I mean more to her than you do! You heard what she said, so both of you back off!” Jungkook said sternly, giving Suga’s shoulder a hard shove.

Suga clenched his jaw. “You’re one to talk! How many people are dead because of you, huh?” Suga got in his face and asked something he knew he would regret later, “Why don’t we ask Yoona?!?”

At just the sound of his ex’s name, a look of rage consumed Jungkook. “You fucking bastard!”. He pushed Suga hard to the wall. Jungkook charged at him, his fist drawn back to land a punch.

Suga ducked and Jungkook’s fist broke through the drywall. Suga tackled Jungkook at his core and pushed him all the way across the room and slamming him against the wall and causing a large portrait to be knocked down, shattering the glass table that was under it.

Jhope ran over to you and shielded you from the fight. “Guys! Stop!” he begged.

They didn’t listen and kept fighting. Jungkook shoved Suga off him and as Suga caught his balance, Jungkook landed a solid punch on his eye.

Suga stumbled and caught himself again, this time with the dresser and accidentally knocked the TV over in the process. Still seeing red, Jungkook attacked Suga with a series of punches, each one landed on Suga anywhere from the gut to the top of his head. Suga never had a chance to recover or fight back.

With all the fighting and the crying, no one noticed Rap monster step into the room until his voice boomed. “What the fucking is going on here?!?”

In that moment, Jungkook landed one last punch on Suga’s jaw and Suga fell to the floor unconscious.


Finals are coming up *screams into the abyss* so for any of you guys that also feel like they are drowning, I hope you don’t. *cries and crawls back to textbooks*

anonymous asked:

wait, what's the difference between Cassian's real age and the age they say he is?

I’m assuming this is in response to my tags about the amazing @notbecauseofvictories thing I reblogged about Cassian and Mon Mothma, because I vaguely remember typing something like that, but it might not have been; regardless, if anyone reading this diatribe hasn’t read it, they should go do that. 

Diego Luna is 36. 37 now. Born in 1979, just like me. Look at him, look at his face as he plays Cassian; he has creases around his eyes and the bones of his face are sharp in a way they weren’t when Diego Luna was in his mid-20s. He’s beautiful, he’s not young, he’s weathered and sharp and his life is engraved on his face. He’s not old, but he’s not young. I can’t find the still I want: it’s when Jyn has the blaster and he tells her to give it to him, and she slyly says “Trust goes both ways” and he stares at her for a moment. Every minute he has lived shows in his face in that shot, every moment of pure agonizing bullshit he has ever weathered is just right there to see, and it’s fucking amazing. It’s like a half-second acting clinic in Having A Face While Being In Your Late Thirties And Having Seen Some Shit. It’s absolutely what I wish I could do with my face. (I can’t. I have zits and wrinkles at the same time. No one takes me seriously, I get carded for booze, and I’m also old enough to be invisible. it’s amazing.) I can’t find it, so have this still instead. 

According to Wookieepedia and various promotional materials, Cassian Andor is 26.

It’s not… impossible… for a man of 26 to look like that but… why… 

I’ve just done the Extra™ thing and looked up what Diego looked like when he was 26.

As someone of Diego’s actual age, I feel like that matters. I understand, Cassian would lead a more weathering life than Diego presumably has (I actually don’t really know his RL business but I’m assuming it involved a lot less murder and espionage, and I’m super sorry if that’s an incorrect assumption, but come on Diego is a human sunshine muffin I’m not drawing this out of thin air here).

He’s still not a baby in this photo, of course. He has lines around his eyes, a little bit. Probably if he were frowning his forehead would have some of that crease in it that Cassian has in every frame (because he is frowning in every frame, but, you know). But his cheekbones are still smoothly hidden under softness, there are no hollows above his jaw, he’s soft and smooth and pretty and it doesn’t take anything away, he just doesn’t have as many lived moments in his face to turn wearily on Jyn and visibly decide that he just has no fucks left to give over whether she shoots him or not.

Anyway! A bunch of us writer types were sort of just assuming that Cassian was played by an actor about his age, and have constructed headcanons accordingly, and they are way more interesting headcanons I think than him being a murder baby! It’s the sort of thing, I admit, that at 26 I would have been like “what does it matter” but now that I am 37 I am like “no it matters a bunch, honey”. 

ALSO FELICITY JONES is 33 and I was SO EXCITED that they had a heroine over 30 but NO, Jyn is supposed to be like 20 or whatever, WTF. WTF! WTF! Ugh. COME ON, LET WOMEN AGE. It’s bad enough the only women in star wars have to be under five-three and brunette with large eyes and wide mouths but now they also have to be under 30 whether or not their actress is. (CARRIE FISHER WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME.)

Obviously the casting people weren’t really thinking “not every adventure has to happen to Very Young Adults” which is what I was so excited about, they were thinking “These Hot Young People Should Be Played By Hot Slightly-Older People Because Adventure Makes You Look Slightly Older Than You Are”, which is bullshit

Gvnnin' for my Heart

Lynn Gvnn x reader
​Warnings: language, smut

​A/N: while researching I realized I’ve been pronouncing the band name wrong this entire time, oops! ​​​​



It’s been four years since you’ve heard from her, since her music took off and she moved away in her old, broken down car to find her way to fame.
You missed her, but you wanted her to do well in the world, so you gave your best wishes and let her go, not about to hold her back when you care so much about her.

Keep reading