i'm a terrible person and i'm okay with that

anonymous asked:

so i really wanna start writing this nessian long fic but i'm so afraid bc there's so many talented writers in this fandom like you and i just don't know if anyone will like it or even read it idek any advice for people like me who are hesitant to start writing fic for this fandom (or any fandom really)??

Okay okay okay (I suck at advice but I will try okay okay trying:) 

So first things first if you have a thing inside your head that you want to write write it. Get it out of your head. It is doing you no good in there (well okay it kinda is because story ideas are fun to sit and imagine and that’s nice) but it’s even better putting it down on paper!!! Set the idea freeee. Seriously. If you have that itch to write give in to it. It’s a rare enough thing that it should be cherished and indulged in when it deigns to appear. In short: JUST WRITE THE THING!!!! 

The second part of that is posting the thing. Which you do not have to do. You can just write things for you, you know? In fact I think that’s the better way (and it’s Hard, dude, I know it is, because sometimes you’re just like….could ppl pls shower me with love it makes me want to keep writing (one nice comment will power my scribbling for days I know how it goes)) but these ideas are yours and you should own them and enjoy them just for you. Just because it feels good to have written this thing and put your ideas out there whether other people respond to them or not. 

Posting fic is scary af I still don’t like it (I scuttle off to bed…pretty much as soon as I’ve posted whatever it is I’m posting I GET IT DUDE) but it’s also a lot of fun? Most of the awesome people I’ve met through fandom I’ve met through fic too; it gets people talking and that’s good. This fandom is actually pretty responsive towards fic in that…I think a solid 70-80% of them actually read it/go looking for it/interact with it in some way and that’s really cool? So if this is your starting point it’s good!!! 

Also okay, I’m blatantly ripping this off from some post or other I have seen floating around this website but it’s like. Fic authors and fic readers see their fic in very different ways. Fic authors look at their fic and then they look at someone else’s fic and they do this: :( because that person’s writing is so much better than mine, their fics are so much better, I will never be as good as them I should just not even try. Fic readers look at other people’s fic and they go: :O Fic readers look at your fic and they go: :O Fic readers look at fics and are like omg a giant juicy chocolate cake and a glorious cheesecake. Different cake is still cake and all cake is good (the original post explained this so much better than me I’m just like…pointing that out in case it needed to be said) 

The point is that no fic reader in the universe reads one fic and really likes it then goes and reads another fic and likes it a little bit better and then right, well, that last one was obviously garbage. I’m not bothering with them anymore what’s the point. I have found it. This is the one. This is the ultimate fic. We have found The One And Only fic author in this fandom we are ever going to read we don’t need any others, we don’t want any other fic ever because we have this one and it is perfect and what is the point of any of the other ones? Fic readers are like omg someone has written a fic of my otp! Omg someone else has written a fic of my otp! omg they’re both amazing I’m going to read them both 16 times and drown in them. 

Fandom isn’t a competition, producing fanworks isn’t a competition either (listen I am aware this shit is difficult to actually take in okay I’M AWARE BELIEVE ME)  But I think if you love something enough that you have all these ideas for it and you want to write them you should write them. and then if you want to post them and share them with people you should do that too? 

I mean…Maybe you will post it and…maybe no-one will read it or like but….I mean atm you just don’t know? At the moment no-one can read it or like it or love it because it hasn’t been written yet?? So I can’t tell you that people will love it but I can tell you that no-one will while it’s stuck inside your head, you know? 

But, I don’t know, I suppose, if you can drag anything out of this quagmire of wiffle it’s that…If you care about something enough that you want to write it you should do that. At least try. Stick your pen on a piece of paper and see what happens. Maybe it goes nowhere and you can’t get through it. Maybe you write 10k in a night and fall in love. But just sort of hovering here in limbo all that’s going to happen is eventually that idea will fade away and maybe one day you’ll be sad that you didn’t just…try to see what might come of it? 

TL;DR: Write the thing. You have enough of a passion to want to write, don’t ignore that. Post the thing if you feel able to once you’ve written the thing. What’s the worst thing that can happen if you try?? 

Children were in need…
         They didn’t need this.

It’s time to take a journeyA VERY LONG JOURNEY–with a new verse for this terrible quality blog based on the classic wilderness years episode of Doctor Who, Dimensions In Time. The Rani has decided to collect a whole bunch of things and stuff them in the roundels on her TARDIS. And to do so has….

uh….

Broken time and made NOT ONLY the Doctor randomly regenerate into previous selves but also ACE. She’s…well…she’s RANDOMLY TURNING INTO PREVIOUS COMPANIONS ALL BECAUSE OF THIS SINISTER PLOT. ALL IN GLORIOUS LOW QUALITY YOUTUBE SCREENSHOT GRAPHICS.

TOM BAKER IS ASKING YOU FOR HELP. THIS IS ALL VERY SERIOUS.

So anyway feel free to like this dumb post for a starter where ace is just randomly turning into a whole bunch of different companions for no discernable reason trust me it’ll be fun.

anonymous asked:

Bokuaka, relief.... for the prompts :))

Akaashi is late.

This is a sentence that almost never happens, and it scares Koutarou a lot. Koutarou himself is often late to a variety of things: school, dentist appointments, weekend hangouts, buses, dates. The only thing he’s not late to is volleyball practice.

But Akaashi. Akaashi is not someone who arrives late—he doesn’t even arrive on time, he arrives early. He once admitted to Koutarou that it makes him anxious when he keeps other people waiting, so he’d rather take the earlier bus and scout out the place where he can see the other person coming. Koutarou doesn’t really understand, but it’s what makes Akaashi Akaashi, so he just shrugged and apologized for being late to their shopping trip.

Akaashi is late today.

Koutarou has checked his phone twenty-four times in sixteen minutes. He’s paced back and forth in front of the train station enough times that the security guard is eyeing him warily. He’s sent thirteen texts and seven voicemails to Akaashi’s phone, but there hasn’t been a single reply. Koutarou’s hands are shaking. He’s scared.

He pulls out his phone again, meaning to dial Kuroo or Konoha or someone who has a calmer, better head on their shoulders than he does. Someone who can tell him to sit down and stop overreacting. Someone who can tell him that Akaashi’s just fine, he’s probably overslept because Koutarou kept him up last night video-chatting him about his latest term paper, maybe he got held up helping an old lady find her cat because Akaashi’s nice that way, even though he doesn’t really like cats. Yeah, Akaashi’s just fine. He’s on his way. His phone is dead. He’s not dead. 

Akaashi is late, and Koutarou is on his knees in front of the station stairs, blocking people’s path but he’s breathing a little too fast, clutching his phone a little too hard, panicking a little too much. There are concerned voices above his head, but his vision is all blurry. Is he crying? Again? What a baby, Koutarou is. 

“Bokuto-san.”

He still doesn’t understand why Akaashi would want to arrive early to his appointments, this waiting game is no fun, no fun at all.

“Bokuto-san.”

There’s a slight pressure on his shoulders, and Koutarou glances up to find familiar green eyes watching him in quiet worry. It takes him a moment to catch his breath again, to recognize the boy with the messy curls kneeling in front of him.

“A-Akaaagsheee,” he says, but Akaashi understands him just fine. “Y-You’re l-l-late.”

Akaashi nods. He helps him up, leading him to the side so people aren’t staring at them anymore. He offers Koutarou tissues from his pocket, always prepared, but he keeps a hand on Koutarou, letting him know he’s here. He’s here. 

“My phone died this morning,” Akaashi says, “and I had to take my neighbour’s kids to their daycare. It’s not an excuse to make you worry though. I’m sorry.”

Koutarou shakes his head. His hand is probably squeezing too hard on Akaashi’s hand, but the other boy doesn’t complain. The panic has receded, leaving behind heavy relief, crashing through Koutarou hard enough to make him want to sit down. So he does. Akaashi follows suit, sitting closer than usual, close enough to press his side against Koutarou.

“You’re here now. It’s okay.”

“I’m here,” Akaashi agrees.


feel free to send in a prompt!

@ the folks who ship karamel because it looks like every other good and accepted couple on mainstream media and because mon el treats kara the way you’ve been told it’s okay for men to treat women: you are not garbage, you do not deserve to be bullied by anyone and especially not by adults who know better, and i offer a personal and sincere apology for every one of the lena stans/supercorp shippers who have done and said terrible things to you.

When we started discussing what we were going to wear for my graduation, my ma quietly and hesitantly asked, “Mai sari pehen sakti hoon?”

Can I wear a sari?

And I was suddenly hit with shame and revulsion for myself. I have in the past asked her not to wear overly desi clothes to celebrations because I was embarrassed. But now, I am deeply ashamed that I had internalized so much hatred for myself, for my colorful culture and traditions, for our beautiful and historical clothes, that I would ever do such a terrible thing. That I would make my own ma think twice before asking to wear a sari.

It was with tears in my eyes that I begged her to please wear the sari.

I love my ma’s saris, and I love my ma’s bindi, and I love my ma. 

My greatest accomplishment on graduation was not my diploma, but her pride. Everything for you, ma. Thank you.

Too awkward to function.
  • *me every time I'm in a restaurant*
  • Don't be awkward, don't be awkward
  • Waitress: how's the food?
  • Me: yes

me, while planning out the original concept for this story: okay, so this one character’s mom was a good person who tried to save her kid and failed but she did try and she’s spent her whole life wondering what happened to her kid

me, a few months later, while actually writing this story: okay, so this one character’s mom basically let her get abducted and never tried to find her and moved on with her life while her kid was put through hell

Actual Wild World Song Meanings
  • good grief: someone close to him dying
  • the currents: wow your political opinions are scary i'm just gonna stop talking to you bye
  • an act of kindness: someone did something good for no reason at all. no seriously. this is easily the most depressing song on this album and it's about a good thing happening
  • warmth: everything is terrible and i need a hug
  • glory: people who focus on heaven are focusing on death but you're so cool that i don't need to
  • power: "why would i put on a vest i expect you to aim for the head"
  • two evils: yeah i'm a bad person but not *THAT* bad
  • send them off!: help
  • lethargy: i worry i'm not as creative as i used to be
  • four walls: jail
  • blame: snitches get stitches
  • fake it: let's end things quickly and pretend to be happy, okay honey?
  • snakes: i'm going to pretend this isn't happening right now so i don't have to deal with it
  • winter of our youth: i choose to look at my childhood as the mess that it was and not as the great time i wanted it to be
  • way beyond: 2016 is fucked up and if you don't care then fuck you
  • oil on water: a woman has sex with a bunch of men and posts about it on facebook
  • campus: the guy who you pay to do your homework has feelings too
  • shame: "ever since i left the city you..."
  • the anchor: you keep me grounded and i love you for that
dating hoseok

here i am doing my first request which is slightly later than i said it would be but anyway,, let’s get on to what it would be like to date this lil ball of sunshine

  • oh my god where to begin
  • so we all know the hobi is like the brightest person
  • your relationship would be the brightest and best thing probably
  • idek how you guys got together
  • it’d probs be some weird way that would be a funny/embarrassing story to look back on
  • like bts dared him to go on this one massive roller coaster by himself & he ended up seated next to you
  • by the end of it you were both screaming & hugging e/o
  • but anyway,,
  • heaps of hugging and skinship
  • cute lil kisses
  • over the top kisses in front of the other members
  • ice cream dates
  • movie marathon dates
  • coffee dates
  • dates where all you do is go to the studio and dance
  • speaking of dancing,,
  • you cooking and him coming up behind you and placing his hands on your hips and being all like “that smells amazing jagi”
  • being all stereotypical and feeding each other
  • you two try to bake a cake together once but let’s just say it didn’t end up well
  • jin was not impressed to find the kitchen covered in flour
  • dancing in public
  • “f/n”
  • “what”
  • “daNCE OFF YOU AND ME LET’S GO”
  • “JHOPE PLEASE WE’RE IN PUBLIC”
  • him picking you up and spinning you around when he’s happy about something
  • piggyback rides all the time
  • cute nicknames for eachother
  • you calling him your hope
  • 3am dance sessions
  • your arms around his neck and his around your waist, your foreheads pressed together as you sway to whatever song is on the radio
  • rap battles
  • lip sync battles
  • dance battles
  • dancing to girl groups together
  • whenever you have a bad day he’s always there to pick you back up
  • doing whatever he can to make you smile
  • his touch my body dance to try and cheer you up
  • tight hugs and him murmuring reassurances in your ear softly
  • whenever he’s stressed you just tug him towards you and tell him that he doesn’t need to talk,, that you’ll be there when he’s ready to say what he’s worried about
  • because he’s honestly such a precious lil sunbeam that seeing him sad is terrible and you feel like you need to do anything you can to make him smile again
  • tbh dating hobi would never be boring bc he’s the brightest person who always tries to make people smile and he deserves to be loved okay

anonymous asked:

Hello, I'm just a little curious about this! How come you like Andou so much? I'm just interested to hear your reasoning, that's all, I hope it's okay to ask this!

Ohohhohooh O OOOO yess, I’ll gladly tell you. But my wording is also absolutely freaking terrible so I apologize for my English.
I’ll start with the superficial stuff before getting to the personality bits.

SHSL Confectioner
Okay, this is a bit of a silly reason, but I’m very, very happy that there is a (former) SHSL Confectioner in Danganronpa. My parents both are confectioners and I really enjoy confectionery myself.

Character Design
Alright wow, first time I saw her? Instant character design-love. She’s super cute imo, also, bless that floof of hers. I’m also happy that she isn’t pure pink, with that I mean her yellow hat. It would’ve been a pet peeve of mine if her hat was the only thing that was differently colored, but her shorts are the same yellow too so it’s nicely balanced out for my personal tastes.

Alright with that out of the way, here come my terrible ramblings about how interested I am in Ruruka Andou as a character.

The pressure of this whole killing game
Most of the characters suffer under this game, which is pretty obvious, but some show it more than others. I don’t think we will ever truly understand what it is like to be in a situation like this and we’re most likely not ever gonna be in that kind of situation either (let’s hope so, alright? This would be horrifying). I wouldn’t say that Ruruka’s actions are completely mad and unreasonable. Under pressure and panic we can act reckless and do things we wouldn’t ever have thought of doing in our lives.
To me, she’s one of the prime examples of a character who is just feeling torn. She’s a character who actually behaves like I’d imagine someone in a killing game would. Being selfish is such a human thing and selfishness just grows in a situation like that.
If I had her NG Code, it would absolutely drive me into constant fear. “Letting someone leave the game area.”. You can’t monitor everyone, obviously. You can’t watch everyone and you might never know if someone had just found an exit. Imagine having to worry about dying at any given moment.

Fear of betrayal - What made her become like this?
Her fear of being betrayed is really damn big and we know that. Not everyone will understand and I won’t be able to fully understand it either.
I’m interested in knowing what made her become like this. It sounded super ridiculous at first, but after we saw what “brainwashing” (more like, getting so addicted to the sweets it’s borderline brainwashing), it suddenly made more sense why she couldn’t trust people who don’t eat her sweets. She can’t trust people she can’t control, aside from Sonosuke. I really have my doubts on him having been “brainwashed” his entire life, that love he had for her seemed really genuine to me. But the killing game made her snap and she couldn’t even trust him anymore.
I gotta say, it is still kind of ridiculous and I am not defending her actions at all. I’m merely interested in knowing just why she acts like this. What made her become a human who mostly only trusts people she can have under her control? Just why is she like this? Did something happen that made her world view this twisted? It could’ve been just her being like that without much rhyme or reason to it, but her kind of world view makes me think that something happened that made her turn into this. As a kid she did seem pretty normal, but we probably will never know the entire reasoning behind this.
This does not excuse her actions, it explains them. What she did to Seiko isn’t something acceptable.

Liking a character who acts nasty isn’t a bad thing
I’m sure many people who like a character whose behaviour is nasty realise that too. Though, there will always be some people who think they’re innocent even if they’re not, but I’m positive the majority of people who are interested in a character that doesn’t quite fit the standards of goody-two-shoes should know they’re not innocent. There can always be exceptions for a few characters though.
I wouldn’t judge someone based upon what characters or ships they like. If someone likes a villain character from a movie or a game, so what? (No I don’t count Ruruka as a villain, it’s just an example) It doesn’t mean someone’s personality is like that character’s. I’m interested in knowing more about Ruruka Andou as a character. I want to understand her better (not justify her). And that’s why I like this character, she makes me question many things.
I know many people don’t share this opinion, but I would’ve loved for her to survive and learn from her actions. I would’ve liked her to change her world view and try to become someone better. And with that I don’t mean that more people should start liking her, because really, I doubt many would change their mind on not liking what she caused, but I just wanted to see her realise. But she was never given that chance.


Ruruka Andou is a character that isn’t very likeable and I understand that. I understand why people don’t like her, but I do, I’m interested in this character but we most likely won’t get to know more about her.
I usually am not a person who likes character’s whose personality is more nasty than nice. My top favorites are Chiaki & Chihiro after all, but I guess Ruruka made an exception in my list of faves.
I will never excuse her actions. But I want to know more about her and why she is like that.

Widowmaker whispered French into Lena’s skin.

“What’s that?” She found it difficult to choke out the words between breaths. Widow chuckled into the small of Lena’s throat. She raised her eyes to meet the younger girl’s and cocked her head to the side.

“Like being devoured by the sun.” she repeated in English.

“Oh you’ll be devoured alright.” A playful spark danced in Lena’s eyes as Widow raised an eyebrow. They were tangled up on the couch of the library enjoying the quiet of an empty base. Most of the others were running drills while Lena was tasked with observing the newest convert. Widow still wasn’t trusted to roam the base alone, not that Tracer was opposed to “observing” the assassin. They chuckled and lazily bumped their smiles together. The door to the library flew open. The two women froze and slowly turned to see a worn, scarred Soldier 76 standing in the doorway. He pulled his mask off and pinched the bridge of his nose, allowing a long sigh to escape beneath his hand.

“Really?” The low gravelly reprimand made Lena smile sheepishly and Widow sit up at Tracer’s knees.

“Relax, Jack, she’s keeping close tabs on me.” Widow replied with a wicked grin on her face, winking at the smaller girl.

“What did you call me?” The room went frigid as Soldier swiftly crossed the room, extending his free arm and an accusatory finger. Widow’s eyes searched the man. “No one here calls me Jack.” He stated more clearly furthering his advance towards the women. Tracer sat up in a defensive position next to Widow. Unwavering, Widow stood to lock eyes with the soldier. Lena hopped up, half inserting herself between the two. She attempted to head off an impending fight, even though she was nearly a head shorter than both the contenders.

“What does it really matter, Morrison?” The British woman prodded. She had been working so hard to incorporate Widow into her family of Overwatch members, she wasn’t about to let a slip of the tongue ruin that.

“No one here has called me Jack. No one.” He passed his glare from woman to woman. “If she remembers anything from before,” he spat the words at Widow, “then she has no excuse for what she’s done.” They stood tense, Lena’s arm being the only barrier between the two. Soldier took a few steps back, refusing to break the stare down, then turned on a heel and marched out the door. Lena let loose the breath she had been holding and Widow continued to stare after the soldier as he slammed the door. Lena plopped back on the couch and watched the assassin.

“Do you actually remember anything?” Lena softly prodded after a couple minutes of silence. Widow crossed her arms and shook her head.

“Fragments. They slip through the cracks you’ve made.” Finally turning to meet the hazel eyes analyzing her. There was something in those freckle framed eyes that she couldn’t pinpoint. The gaze made her stomach turn and she looked away. ‘Hope.’ she thought, ‘She still holds out hope… Foolish girl…’

“What do you remember?”

“You broke me.” Widow whispered under her breath. Turning to Lena, she elaborated, “Whatever they did, it’s not reversible-”

“I know that. Winston said it would be nearly impossible-”

“But you broke the pretty little mask they made for me. The cracks allow very few things to leak through.” She started rubbing her arm and slowly sat down on the couch next to Tracer, refusing to make eye contact. “It’s why I’ve refused to share a bed with you.” Lena blushed slightly at the implication. “You smell like a memory.” The wind was stolen from Tracer’s lungs. She wanted to press further but found no words cooperating with her. Blinking finally, she struggled with a response.

“What memory?”

“Strawberries. And a sundress.” Lena ran through her memories, memories of idolizing Overwatch as a child, of joining the Royal Air Force to become the hero she wanted to be, of being recruited by the very heroes she worshipped, of being lost in the time stream, of loss, of the recall, nothing she could find resembled strawberries and sundresses. She tilted her head.

“I don’t…”

“It could just be a dream… It hurts to remember…” Widow stood. “I believe it’s time for bed anyway.”

“Yeah… Yeah, I’ll stay here if you need me, love.” This revelation weighed heavy on Tracer, finding herself unable to move from the couch. Widow quickly retreated to Lena’s room, her temporary resting place while the whole of Overwatch learned where her loyalties lied. She crawled reluctantly into the bed that was not hers, and tried to usher off the thoughts that demanded to escape through her cracks.

A young woman with long jet black hair walked into a field of ankle high grass. A soft breeze played with the hem of her cream colored sundress and threatened to take her large-brimmed sunhat. She held her hat against the wind as a dazzling smile spread across her face. She turned, a man meeting her gaze with a basket and a matching smile.

“Should we be worried about those clouds?” The woman gestured towards dark gray clouds on the horizon.

“No, my darling. There isn’t to be any rain today.” He pulled a strawberry from the basket and held it to the woman’s lips. Biting down, she braced a hand under the juicy berry. She chuckled as the flavor exploded in her mouth and nearly stained her dress. The clouds advanced faster, just as the woman was about to express her worries again, a crack of lighting split the sky. A jet came into view from the storm, the billowing clouds turning into smoke coming from the jet’s tail. The woman ran further into the field, shock spreading across her face and a tear biting at her eye.

“Don’t worry, love, I’ve landed worse.” A cockney voice came through laced with concern and crackled as if spoken into a radio. Another crack of lightning smacked the sky and everything was gone, the jet, the smoke, the clouds.

“Lena!” The woman screamed.

Widow sat up in bed gasping for breath, a hand on her arm. A soft blue glow outlined the alarmed features of Tracer.

“Just grabbing a blanket, love. Didn’t mean to scare ya.” Widow roughly grabbed Lena’s arm as if to check her grasp on reality. “You’re alright, you’re here. I’m here with you.” Lena went through her script that Angela had taught her. The words, as short as they were, managed to pull her into reality whenever she struggled. It was her best bet to help the gasping woman. Widow’s breath slowed as her head erupted in pain. She wrapped herself in Lena’s arms and a strange warmth ran a track down her cheek.

“I know.” Her world was being devoured by the sun that Tracer was, but she knew in this moment she would be okay.

Don't worry I hate myself enough for all of this :3

I love Markiplier, romantically, as anyone who follows my blog would know. But, I do not like five of his friends. Friends he is fanatical about. Bob(muyskerm), Ross(GameGrumps and RubberNinja), Danny Sexbang(NinjaSexParty and GameGrumps), and the guys at Cydago. And I feel like this would hurt my chances of marrying him. (GOD DEITY[IES] WHY AM I SO CREEPY!?) Why i am explaining this is after the explanations

I don’t like Bob and Ross for really the same reason. I feel like Bob and I wouldn’t get along at all. And Ross, just seems like a jerk, he REALLY irks me. They are probably good people and I understand that, but I don’t know them on a personal level, so as of now, they have not been redeemed.

I don’t like Danny, because of NinjaSexParty. The songs I’ve heard are rather offensive, such as the “If we were gay” song, and I feel like Danny doesn’t actually sing his songs, but he does, it just feels like he’s just talking. Danny is also rather ostentatious, which kinda irks me. But again, he’s a good person, I know that, I just feel like I wouldn’t like him.

Cyndago’s humor just feel’s really cheap. Just…eh. Again: good people, blah blah blah.

I feel like I had to explain myself because I know I’ll get hate for this. I thought logical personal views would be okay and make me seem less stupid. I am willing to, if I ever get the chance, hang out with them and give them a chance to redeem themselves in my eyes. I am presuming a lot, but I am willing to hang around people I don’t like right now to make them not unpleasant in my eyes. That right there is worth at least one second of not self-loathing.