i'm going to try and start working through my messages now

anonymous asked:

Hello there; I've been looking through your blog and, as many others say, I just ADORE your art! I was also wondering if you could give me some advice. For quite a few months now I've utterly lost all motivation to draw. I want to go into something with art, so this devastates me, and whenever I try to draw I just get so easily frustrated. I've been an avid artist since I can remember, so for me to suddenly not want to draw for months on end really concerns me. Any suggestions to fix this?

(hi!! apologies for the late reply. i hope this can still be of some help to you despite that!)

i think that’s a feeling every artist struggles with at some point. you love art, you love making art, and it’s immensely frustrating when that suddenly doesn’t work out despite all the effort you’ve been putting in. and then you start to lose motivation, question yourself and everything you’re doing, and it’s a vicious cycle that’s really hard to break out of. so what can we do?

well, here’s a thing. let’s call it the productivity branch.

i feel like my own creative cycles are very seasonal. not in the sense that my creativity depends on the season, but rather that my creativity itself goes through different seasons.

  • spring: new ideas, motivation, productivity still low 
  • summer: lots of ideas and very productive
  • autumn: still productive drawing leftover ideas, but new ideas are harder to come by. and then 
  • winter: nothing. art-block. lack of ideas, everything-sucks-syndrome, no motivation, the creative part of my brain is basically hibernating

that’s you up there. you’re in a creative winter right now. and without any inspiration or motivation it’ll be hard to find a way to cross that gap over to a new spring (pls bear with the cheesy analogies). and if your cut yourself off from inspirational influence you might start to think that, hey, this isn’t so bad. i mean, who needs spring right? just means you have to do things. be active. yikes. winter’s pretty chill. haha. 

but don’t do that. it’ll come around and bite you at some point, because that lack of motivation and activity might start to seep into other parts of your life, not just the creative one, and you don’t want that.

so! when you don’t have ideas and motivation to create, then don’t create. but instead make an effort to inspire yourself. inspiration entails motivation (and vice versa).

  • read books, short stories, poems, science articles, anything
  • go on walks, explore your surroundings, if affordable maybe even go somewhere farther away
  • let people tell you stories
  • listen to new music
  • try things you haven’t done before (deliberately break old habits)
  • go through other people’s inspiration blogs
  • collaborate with a friend
  • get really invested in something, talk to others about it
  • watch movies, animated shorts, documentaries 
  • or speedpaintings and art tutorials
  • try different techniques, or new brushes
  • look at art that’s so inspiring that you can’t believe you’re still just sitting there not drawing anything yourself
  • and most importantly, be receptive. take in the world around you, rearrange it in your head, and draw whatever you end up with. that’s the core of what creativity is

think about what you want to achieve. make your friends smile? draw something really cool you can print out and hang up in your room? touch people’s hearts? deliver a message? whatever it is, and however small or inconsequential it might seem, keep it in mind. it’s your light at the end of the tunnel.

if want to keep drawing for the sake of muscle memory while you’re still looking for your inspiration: 

  • illustrate your daily activities
  • draw a random shape or find one in a photo (clouds are ideal for this) and turn it into a character or object
  • pick different pictures and combine elements from each of them into one drawing
  • do plain ol’ studies 
  • basically don’t try to come up with things completely from scratch. find something to work with and go from there. that will save you the mentally draining task of coming up with a subject, so you can start actively drawing right away

if you still can’t make yourself pick up a pen, make a schedule. train your brain to turn its creative gears at a specific time of the day, make that a habit. do it for pavlov

approach drawing with the awareness that what you create might suck, especially when you’re out of practice, but this doesn’t mean that it will always suck, and it doesn’t mean you suck. if you learn to dissociate your current creative achievements from your worth as a person and your future potential you will get back to work a lot easier, improve faster, and be more resistant to setbacks. 

find something that makes it worth the effort of working through the frustration. 

you might need to try a lot of different things because everyone copes with this differently, and even when a method worked once that doesn’t mean it always will. so start trying! you can only find inspiration if you start looking for it. 👍

anonymous asked:

I'm feeling so sad right now and I keep crying. Emma Swan is the best character I've even know. I love your fics but I need more so I was hoping you could rec me some of your favorite, long captain swan fics. Thanks, I hope you feel better soon.

I could go on for hours about how much I love Emma Swan and how devastated I am but I’m sure that’s not what you’re here for so yay!! fic recs!!!!

First of all, if you haven’t read Light of All Lights by @ripplestitchskein , what are you doing w your life?? It’s Dark Swan and Deckhand Hook and it’s so beautifully heartbreaking and so wonderfully smutty and so gloriously glorious. Seriously, it is one of the best works of fiction (fan or other) I have ever read so do yourself a favor and read it. 107k words. Rated E

This next one might be my all-time favorite CS fic. I’m like a puzzle (but all of my pieces are jagged) by @somanyfandomssolittletime. A friends to lovers hockey AU w an integrated NHL. This one’s a little bittersweet for me rn because the Blues just got knocked out of the playoffs. I’ve read this one more times than I can count. It’s a blessing and I’m actually about to go read it again. 18k words. Rated M

Harbor in the Temptest by @acrobat-elle is a Neverland canon divergence and who doesn’t love a good Neverland fic? This one’s a bit of an emotional doozy, let me tell ya, but it is so so worth it. 18k words. Rated T also by @acrobat-elle Breathless a post-Underworld fic in which Emma and Killian come back sharing more than just a heart. Idk what’s more intense the feelings or the smut. 31k words. Rated E

Love, Kindness, and Other Useless Things by @joneskillian is a thing of beauty. A historical AU set in 1815 and the slowest of burns. Emma works for Killian, taking care of his lovely daughter Grace. This one’s a wip and it’s like the highlight of my day when I get the notification saying it’s been updated.

Talking Body by @killians-dimples is another fic that I’ve read too many times. Rockstar AU, guitar player Killian Jones is in love w his media agent Emma Swan. BED SHARING!! and dry humping, god bless. Her writing is a breath of fresh air and I guarantee you will be satisfied and your spirits will be lifted upon reading any of her fics. 10k words. Rated M

@nowforruin is a multi-chapter Goddess. She has written soooo many of my favorite AUs. I honestly don’t know where this fandom would be w out her fics. To name a few of my favorites, Dropping Anchor a broke, both in heart and finances, Emma returns home. Her mother gets her a job working for the Jones’. 37k words. Not Rated. The Trouble With Faking It A fake dating AU and by golly is it beautiful. Emma is hired by Regina to date Movie Star Killian Jones to clean up his image and help him land a role. 124k words (YEAH BUDDY) Rated E. A Change in Wind I can’t even form words for how great this baby is so just read it. 65k words. Rated M.

Lonely Hearts Club by @niniadepapa. If you want to read something just absolutely adorable and lovely, an AU in which Killian starts conversing with a random stranger through messages written on a table at Granny’s. Two guesses as to who the stranger is. 16k words. Rated T

Strangeness & Charm by @bluestoplights. OK first of all, I just wanna give this girl a shout out because back in the day when I was still a mostly Hunger Games blog, I watched OUAT but didn’t blog about it, and I followed her for Veronica Mars and it was basically her Captain Swan blogging that made me want to join this fandom so kudos to you for giving me the love of my life. This fic is probably the longest on this list and every single moment of it is spectacular. Pirate Captain Killian Jones and Savior Emma Swan unite to liberate the kingdom. 243k words. Rated M. Also, give her 1989 fics a try, Wonderland is probably my fave.

Something About December by @high-seas-swan is a 12 Days of Christmas fic in which Killian gifts Emma something new every day leading up to Christmas. And it has a bunch of flashbacks throughout their relationship. Beautifully fluffy, A+ and I’m not just saying this because it was my CSSS gift from her. 7k words. Rated T.

Lastly for this list, Her Crowning Glory by @captainnagata a Princess Diariesish AU in which Emma Swan has to find a husband or else lose her crown to Killian Jones. Beautifully written and tons of fun. 66k words. Rated T.

I just want to thank every person on the list for bringing such beautiful content to such a beautiful fandom. Shipping Captain Swan would not be the same w out you guys. ♥

phazerstorm  asked:

I just adore your art style, it's so cute! I'm thinking of making comics myself. Do you think you could give me some tips on angling or facial expressions or overall detail?

Thank you so so much! I really appreciate that! Like, a whole lot. ^^

I’m not exactly sure how much I’ll be able to help you, though I can at least give you some pointers on expressions! I’ll do my best. I’m sorry this is coming a bit late! 

I’m going to use Bendy for my examples, just because he’s super easy to draw and I have him on hand/mind at the moment. But! These can be used on just about anyone.

Keep in mind: this is just my way of doing things. There isn’t one “set” way to create great art! There’s a lot of experimenting, testing and growing when it comes to artwork.

When it comes down to expressions, there are a few things to consider: what are they feeling? How intense is this feeling? How far can, or should you push it? How can you make this feel realistic? In visual storytelling, showing what a character is going through is far more important than telling the reader. In a comic setting, there’s a very fine balance–since you have images to go with the words, but you can’t convey each minute action… At least in a reasonable amount of panels, the dialogue and the images have to work together when they’re used in tandem.

When a character is shouting, you have to push their expression further–it won’t be enough to show them with their mouth slightly open, or with a flat face. Give them wide eyes, or shut their eyes completely with frustration. Open their mouth wide, maybe even get their body language involved if you have enough room. Throw their arms in the air, have them pulling at their hair!

Likewise, if what they’re saying is quiet or somber, soften their expression. Have their gaze ill-focused, or looking to the ground. Their shoulders could be slumped, their brow could be low. Their mouth could be almost, or entirely closed. Or are they happy? Raise their eyebrows, widen their eyes with joy! Bring out that smile! Use as much variety and as many shapes as you can!

Because I’m a visual person, here are a few examples to give you a better idea of what I mean:

(I’m sorry if my handwriting is hard to read)

Which facial expressions are more interesting? Sure, the ones on the left are going through the motions of emoting, but the ones to the right REALLY show how the character is feeling!

Body language is also immensely important when it comes down to expressiveness. Every part of the body can be used to convey a message. The crossing of arms can indicate disgust, or even put a small barrier between two people. Slumped shoulders show disappointment or sadness. Every little movement a character makes can have a massive impact on their overall tone. Here are a few examples like the above:

Even minute changes to a static pose can make a BIG difference! Test around and see what works best.

I’ve noticed that some animators have mirrors near their desk. This is so they can look up at their reflection and make a face into the mirror. They project their character’s feelings onto themselves, that way they can see what sort of facial expression would be best suited to that emotion. Nowadays we can just google this, but it’s still a good idea. Don’t be afraid to look up references whenever you need them. I know I do frequently! There’s no shame in using references!

My friend linked me to this wonderful guide, which goes more in-depth than I did here. Take a look!

I’m sorry I can’t help you quite as much with angles. I feel that I’d need to do a little more research in order to be able to articulate this more fluently. Perhaps some other time I can try and revisit this and go more into depth about perspective and foreshortening, but for now, here’s another great guide that might help you along in the right direction. I use a similar structure for my own drawings! 

Speaking of foreshortening, here’s another tutorial! I don’t use this particular method, but it may work for you!

I know you didn’t ask for it, but I’d like to give you some tips about comic making. If you don’t want them, then I guess you can just stop reading, pfff. Either way I’ll put it under a cut so this post doesn’t take up so much of the dashboard.

Keep reading

kapower  asked:

I'm a slut for your writing so how about like a progession from 52,73,151, to 184? If not, any of the above would be adorbs in your writing bae😙💕

Thunderstorm Revelations

Pairing; Nalu

Word Count; 2417

A/N; BAE I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG OMFG. But thanks for the prompt!! <3

52: “ Can we cuddle? ”

73: “ Oh, Are you ticklish? ”

151: “ I can’t feel my legs! ”

184: “ Can I touch you? ”

Natsu sat in the center of the sofa, one of Lucy’s books perched on his knee as he flipped through it absentmindedly. Lucy was always weird about him reading her stuff, and so he tried to wait until at least the third draft before sneaking a look at it. Lucy had been in a rut, however, and so Natsu was forced to reread her previous chapters to fend off his boredom.

Magnolia was all but shut down under the heavy thunderstorm outside, Lucy and Natsu trapped in her apartment on Strawberry Street as it had been closer than the guild. She had sent a lacrima message to the guild, letting everyone know her and Natsu were safe but wouldn’t be going to the guild that day. Happy had been especially upset, needing to be talked down from flying through the storm by Lucy. Natsu had been forced to bribe the exceed with the promise of all of Natsu’s catch next time they went fishing.

Natsu sighed loudly, leaning his head against the back of Lucy’s sofa and closing his eyes. She had been drying off for forever, and Natsu didn’t understand why he couldn’t have just dried her off himself. Lucy was so weird she had squawked and turned bright red at his offer, and now she was wasting time drying her hair when they could be playing cards.

A loud boom outside caught Natsu’s attention, the thunder harsh and sudden when he wasn’t watching the flashes of lighting outside the window. The lights flickered overhead, Natsu mentally threatening them if they went out. Lucy got all antsy in the dark with him, which bothered Natsu. She knew he would never try anything, didn’t she?

Besides, it wasn’t like Lucy was even aware of how Natsu felt.

Natsu cocked his head, tracking the soft padding of Lucy’s socked feet walking towards him.

Another crack of thunder rang in the sky, and Natsu opened his eyes with a frown when he sensed Lucy tense beside him. She looked pale, half dried hair thrown in a messy braid and large shirt trailing to her mid thigh.

“Can we cuddle?” Lucy asked, voice timid as she looked at her hands clasped in front of her. Natsu opened his mouth to ask her why she wanted to cuddle when a third boom shook the small apartment, Lucy flinching and curling into herself at the noise.

“Course, weirdo.” Natsu said instead, grinning at her easily. She smiled at him, shy and thankful in response as she slipped onto the couch beside him. Natsu shifted them around, his back now tucked into the corner of the couch and Lucy curled under his arm. She squeaked and pressed into his side firmly when the power shut off, the room falling into pitch blackness while the sky roared.

Natsu ran a comforting hand over Lucy’s back, soothing her small shakes as he tried to think. It had never occurred to Natsu that Lucy might be afraid of thunderstorms, and frankly he didn’t know what to say.

“You, er, alright, Luce?” Natsu asked, watching her face in the dark. The pale light coming from the window behind them was all Natsu needed to easily see in the room, but obviously from the unfocused expression she wore it wasn’t enough for Lucy.

“I’m fine Natsu. Just… don’t like thunder.” Lucy tried to brush off, but another loud crack of thunder sent her head burrowing into Natsu’s chest in fear.

“I think it’s more than a little dislike there, Luce.” Natsu commented dryly, tightening his arm around her and pulling her closer as he spoke.

“Oh shut up.” Lucy exhaled, hand relaxing as she bickered with Natsu. He grinned to himself, proud his plan had worked. He tensed as he sensed the change in the atmosphere, squeezing Lucy tight as a flash of lightning lit up the room, quickly followed by the booming thunder. Natsu looked over her face, tracing the tired pinching and tenseness she held on her face, thinking she was concealed by the dark.

Keep reading

A Note From Gerard Way about My Chemical Romance's breakup if you haven't read it yet

A note from Gerard Way about My Chemical Romance’s breakup:

A Vigil, On Birds and Glass.
I woke up this morning still dreaming, or not fully aware of myself just yet. The sun poked through the windows, touching my face, and then a deep sadness overcame me, immediately, bringing me to life and realization- My Chemical Romance had ended.
I walked downstairs to do the only thing I could think of to regain composure-
I made coffee.
As the drip began, in that kind of silence that only happens in the morning, and being the only one awake, I stepped outside my home, leaving the door open behind me. I looked around and began to breathe. Things looked to be about the same- a beautiful day.
As I turned to step back into the house I heard sound from within, a chirp and a rustle. And I noticed a small brown bird had flown into the library. Naturally, I panicked. I knew I had to see the bird to safety and I knew I had to retain the order of things in our home, and he very well couldn’t take up residency with us. I chased him (still assuming he was a he) into my office, where I have these very large windows.
Just then, and luckily, I heard Lindsey’s footsteps coming down the stairs, and naturally being composed as she is, she grabbed a blanket and stepped into the office. He was impossible to catch, and I began to open the windows, via Lindsey’s direction, only to find out they were screened. The bird began to fly into the glass, over and over and in all different directions.
Smack.
Smack.
Smack!
I heard another set of footsteps, Bandit’s, running down the stairs in anticipation of the new day. Her entrance into the situation caused just the right amount of chaos (she was very excited to meet the bird) and we found ourselves chasing the bird into the living room. Knowing that this where it could potentially get sticky, being the high ceilings and the beams to perch on, I opened the front door as Lindsey did her best to encourage our new friend out the door. After some coaxing, flying, chirping, a wrong turn back into the library and a short goodbye to Bandit, he simply hopped out the front door- taking off on the fifth leap.
We cheered.
I was no longer sad.
I didn’t realize it, but I stopped being sad the minute that bird had come into my life, because there was something that needed doing, a small vessel to aid and an order to keep. I closed the door. I decided to write the letter I always knew I would.

[[/MORE]]

It is often my nature to be abstract, hidden in plain sight, or nowhere at all. I have always felt that the art I have made (alone or with friends) contains all of my intent when executed properly, and thus, no explanation required. It is simply not in my nature to excuse, explain, or justify any action I have taken as a result of thinking it through with a clear head, and in my truth.
I had always felt this situation involving the end of this band would be different, in the eventuality it happened. I would be cryptic in its existence, and open upon its death.

The clearest actions come from truth, not obligation. And the truth of the matter is that I love every one of you.
So, if this finds you well, and sheds some light on anything, or my personal account and feelings on the matter, then it is out of this love, mutual and shared, not duty.
Love.
This was always my intent.

My Chemical Romance: 2001-2013

We were spectacular.
Every show I knew this, every show I felt it with or without external confirmation.
There were some clunkers, sometimes our secondhand gear broke, sometimes I had no voice- we were still great. It is this belief that made us who we were, but also many other things, all of them vital-
And all of the things that made us great were the very things that were going to end us-

Fiction. Friction. Creation. Destruction. Opposition. Aggression. Ambition. Heart. Hate. Courage. Spite. Beauty. Desperation. LOVE. Fear. Glamour. Weakness. Hope.

Fatalism.

That last one is very important. My Chemical Romance had, built within its core, a fail-safe. A doomsday device, should certain events occur or cease occurring, would detonate. I shared knowledge of this “flaw” within weeks of its inception.
Personally, I embraced it because, again, it made us perfect. A perfect machine, beautiful, yet self aware of it’s system. Under directive to terminate before it becomes compromised. To protect the idea- at all costs. This probably sounds like something ripped from the pages of a four-color comic book, and that’s the point.
No compromise. No surrender. No fucking shit.

To me that’s rock and roll. And I believe in rock and roll.

I wasn’t shy about who I said this to, not the press, or a fan, or a relative. It’s in the lyrics, it’s in the banter. I often watched the journalists snicker at mention of it, assuming I was being sensational or melodramatic (in their defense I was most likely dressed as an apocalyptic marching-band leader with a tear-away hospital gown and a face covered in expressionist paint, so fair enough).
I’m still not sure if the mechanism worked correctly, because it wasn’t a bang but a much slower process. But still the same result, and still for the same reason-

When it’s time, we stop.

It is important to understand that for us, the opinion on whether or not it is in fact time does not transmit from the audience. Again, this is to protect the idea for the benefit of the audience. Many a band have waited for external confirmation that it is time to hang it up, via ticket sales, chart positioning, boos and bottles of urine- input that holds no sway for us, and often too late when it comes anyway.

You should know it in your being, if you listen to the truth inside you. And voice inside became louder than the music.

Now-
There are many reasons My Chemical Romance ended. The triggerman is unimportant, as was always the messengers- but the message, again as always, is the important thing. But to reiterate, this is my account, my reasons and my feelings. And I can assure you there was no divorce, argument, failure, accident, villain, or knife in the back that caused this, again this was no one’s fault, and it had been quietly in the works, whether we knew it or not, long before any sensationalism, scandal, or rumor.

There wasn’t even a blaze of glory in a hail of bullets…

I am backstage in Asbury Park, New Jersey. It is Saturday, May 19th, 2012 and I am pacing behind a massive black curtain that leads to the stage. I feel the breeze from the ocean find its way around me and I look down at my arms, which are covered in fresh gauze due to a losing battle with a heat rash, which had been a mysterious problem in recent months. I am normally not nervous before a show but I am certainly filled with angry butterflies most of the time. This is different- a strange anxiety jetting through me that I can only imagine is the sixth sense one feels before their last moments alive. My pupils have zeroed-out and I have ceased blinking. My body temperature is icy.
We get the cue to hit the stage.

The show is… good. Not great, not bad, just good. The first thing I notice take me by surprise is not the enormous amount of people in front of us but off to my left- the shore and the vastness of the ocean. Much more blue than I remembered as a boy. The sky is just as vibrant. I perform, semi-automatically, and something is wrong.
I am acting. I never act on stage, even when it appears that I am, even when I’m hamming it up or delivering a soliloquy. Suddenly, I have become highly self-aware, almost as if waking from a dream. I began to move faster, more frantic, reckless- trying to shake it off- but all it began to create was silence. The amps, the cheers, all began to fade.

All that what left was the voice inside, and I could hear it clearly. It didn’t have to yell- it whispered, and said to me briefly, plainly, and kindly- what it had to say.

What it said is between me and the voice.

I ignored it, and the following months were full of suffering for me- I hollowed out, stopped listening to music, never picked up a pencil, started slipping into old habits. All of the vibrancy I used to see became de-saturated. Lost. I used to see art or magic in everything, especially the mundane- the ability was buried under wreckage.

Slowly, once I had done enough damage to myself, I began to climb out of the hole. Clean. When I made it out, the only thing left inside was the voice, and for the second time in my life, I no longer ignored it- because it was my own.

There are many roles for all of us to play in this ending. We can be well-wishers, ill-wishers, sympathizers, vilifiers, comedians, rain clouds, victims-

That last one, again, is important. I have never thought myself a victim, nor my comrades, nor the fans- especially not the fans. For us to adopt that role right now would legitimize everything the tabloids have tried to name us. More importantly, it completely misses the point of the band. And then what have we learned?

With honor, integrity, closure, and on no one’s terms but our own- the door closes.

And another opens-

This morning I awoke early. I quickly brushed my teeth, threw on some baggy jeans, and hopped in my car. I gently sped down the 405 through the morning fog to a random parking lot in Palo Verde, where I was to meet a nice gentleman named Norm. He was older, and a self-proclaimed “hippie” but he also had the energy of Sixteen year old in a garage-rock band. The purpose of the meeting was the delivery of an amplifier into my possession. I had recently purchased the amp from him and we both agreed that shipping would jostle the tubes- so he was kind enough to meet me in the middle.
A Fender Princeton Amp from 1965, non reverb. A beautiful little device.

He showed me the finer points, the speaker, the non-grounded plug, the original label and the chalk mark of the man or woman who built it-

“This amp talks.” he said.
I smiled.
We got coffee, talked about gold-foil pickups and life. We sat in the car and played each other music we had made. We parted ways, promising to stay in touch, I drove home.

When I wanted to start My Chemical Romance, I began by sitting in my parent’s basement, picking up an instrument I had long abandoned for the brush- a guitar. It was a 90’s Fender Mexican Stratocaster, Lake Placid Blue, but in my youth I had decided it was too clean and pretty so I beat it up, exposing some of the red paint underneath the blue- the color it was meant to be. Adding a piece of duct tape on the pick guard, it felt acceptable. I plugged this into a baby Crate Amp with built in distortion and began the first chords of Skylines and Turnstiles.

I still have that guitar, and it’s sitting next to The Princeton.
He has a voice, and I would like to hear what it has to say.

In closing, I want to thank every single fan. I have learned from you, maybe more than you think you’ve learned from me. My only regret is that I am awful with names and bad with goodbyes. But I never forget a face, or a feeling- and that is what I have left from all of you.
I feel Love.

I feel love for you, for our crew, our team, and for every single human being I have shared the band and stage with-

Ray. Mikey. Frank. Matt. Bob. James. Todd. Cortez. Tucker. Pete. Michael. Jarrod.

Since I am bad with goodbyes. I refuse to let this be one. But I will leave you with one last thing-

My Chemical Romance is done. But it can never die.
It is alive in me, in the guys, and it is alive inside all of you.
I always knew that, and I think you did too.

Because it is not a band-
it is an idea.

Love,
Gerard

anonymous asked:

I know sketchyy-pencil makes fan art for the ship and well... I'm an angst whore D: can you please make an angst one shot where she cheats on you or something... To tie it with mysme lets pretend she is Jaehee and you are MC lmao

Fuck MC and Jaehee this story is about me and @sketchyy-pencil ( also if you want to send HCS for the ship I guess you can since this was really easy for me to write lmao) 


I never knew life would treat me this way. My life was actually looking great; I had an angel as a S/O, my job was amazing and I was finally happy. Hah. Life’s a bitch. I never knew taking my love to dinner would actually turn into the worst night of my life. During our dinner conversation I noticed she seemed distant. Hell she’s been distant for months. I thought it was her job stressing her out so I made sure everything was in place: having the apartment cleaned, making sure we have everything ready, and having a hot meal waiting for her. Yeah it was hard working and taking care of our home but she was worth it. She was worth my blood sweat and tears. She use to enjoy my cooking till gradually, she stopped eating my food. I already ate don’t worry or I’m not hungry  was the constant excuses she gave me. One night I even decided to run her a bubble bath but she yelled at me saying I was too nice to her. Her words did hurt me but I didn’t pay attention to it because I knew she was stressed. I didn’t pay much attention to her because at the time, I didn’t want our arguments to escalate.

During dinner, I remembered I asked her how was work and she simply took a sip of wine and told me “ I’m in love with someone else”. My heart stopped beating because I looked into her eyes and I knew she was telling the truth. I continue eating my food and told her to answer my question and she did. We didn’t talk much after. We finally made it to our driveway and I went to her side of the door and opened it for her like I always had. Now we are sitting on the couch acting as strangers. I was speechless because I was still trying to comprehend those six words that caused agony within me. I took a deep breath and looked at the floor “ How long was this going on? I won’t get mad at you I promise” I whispered. She ran her fingers through her hair like she always does when she’s nervous “ For 5 months now” she sighed. I cleared my throat and laid down at the couch “ I hope the person makes you really happy. You deserve all the happiness in the world my angel. I love you so much that I prefer your happiness over mine. So I understand why you cheated on me. I was no longer your happiness. I’m sorry for not being enough” my voice hitched.

I felt her eyes pierce through my skin and she started to cry while punching my shoulder “Why aren’t you crying ! Why are you not ha-hating me! Please hate m-me! You were enough you were more than enough! Fucking hate me! Tell me off!! Say you never want to see me again!! ” she screeched. I just laughed while she was hitting me. I finally looked into those beautiful eyes again “There is no point in hitting me angel. Your words already hurt me enough to where a bullet won’t even do shit to me. I might as well add that I can never hate you. I respect and love you so much that my ass will support you in every decision you made. I told you from the beginning, I will stand by your side even if you make the wrong choice. Even if it means you loving someone else.” I uttered. I stood up from the couch and kneeled between her. I grabbed her hands and gently kissed it for the last time. I closed my eyes for a quick second and I felt hot tears rolling down my face. I gazed into her eyes “ I need to know one thing. Just one thing. When did you stop loving me?” I managed to say. It’s easy to see her emotions through her eyes. Tears were rolling down her cheeks and it took all the strength that I had to not wipe her tears away. That was no longer my job no more. She decided to pick someone else for the job and that caused pain to ache into my bones. I felt her fingers try to wipe my tears but I slapped her hand away from my face. Her breath hitched “I ne-never stopped loving you” she whispered ever so gently. Her eyes were telling me the truth but I knew her heart was lying to her mind “Bullshit. You don’t hurt the people you love” I hissed. Tears were caressing her face ever so lightly. She grabbed my hand and forced her fingers to interlock with mine. She brought my hand to her lips and kissed it every so gently. I took my hand away from her and held her hand to my heart, “Remember way back then when we first started talking, you were so hard yet so easy to figure out. Your eyes showed me your soul and it captured my heart. You were my heaven and hell. I’m curious though, do you remember that long message I sent you because you teased me that I couldn’t be sweet?” I mentioned. She laughed and it sounded like angels singing to my ears. She nodded while cleaning her eyes. I fixed her hair because it was covering her face “I still mean every word from it” I stuttered while I got up and kissed her forehead.

She gave me a puzzled look while I went and grabbed a suitcase to pack all my clothes and belongings. It was a half hour later till I had my suitcases at the front door. She told to that she wanted to leave and I told her that I didn’t want to stay because I didn’t want to be surrounded by memories of her. She sat down at the couch and I went to her and outlined a cross to her forehead “I hope God gives you many more blessings and I hope you are happy with your new life and love” I said. She looked at me with fresh tears in her eyes and there was a lump in my throat. I was ready to leave but I stopped and looked back “I will never know where we went wrong but there is one thing that I know” I whimpered. I walked closer to her and I put my hand inside my right pocket taking out a blue velvet small box. I opened it revealing the engagement ring and placed it on the table in front of her. I examined the living room once last time and my eyes finally laid on hers “ I was suppose to give it to you after dinner. It doesn’t belong to me. It was meant for you so you can do whatever you want with it. Thank you. It was an honor having my heart broken by you” I said while tears were running down my eyes. I gave her one last look and walked away.

Goodbye my love.

Extra Angsty Bonus:

I ran down the stairs with the little belongings I had. I heard my name being yelled by her but I kept going down the stairs faster. I finally reached the lobby but she took the elevator and she tried to stop me from leaving. She went on her knees begging me to stay but I pushed her off me and told her to never put her pride down for anyone. I ran through the double doors and made my way through the streets. The cold air was burning my throat and I decided to look back at her for one last time but suddenly everything turned black…..

Date Night

Kai X Reader(female)

Summary: You start to date Kai Parker and Damon gets very angry and overprotective. 

Requested by ANON 

Originally posted by drunkonkai

Originally posted by valentinasarm

     You snaked your hair around the curling iron once more and looked over to see Damon laying on your bed clutching your pillow on his chest. “What are you getting all dolled up for?” He said while eyeballing you in the mirror. 

        “Does there have to be a reason, Damon?”  You said as you finished curling your hair. He raised his eyebrow and looked you up and down. 

       “And you’re in a dress. There has to be some kind of party going on.” You looked at Damon and groaned. Damon quickly took up the role of your best friend the moment you moved to Mystic Falls. At first, you were not so sure if his friendship was reliable, then you questioned if he had a crush on you, then you just realised that he just wanted someone to talk to that wasn’t his brother, he just wanted someone to understand him and you were willing to be that person for him. 

        “There is no big occasion Damon,” You said as you grabbed your phone off the charger. “maybe you should just go home and drink some bourbon.”

       Damon scoffed and rolled his eyes. “that is a tempting offer, but I would much rather sit here and pry into your little mind.” He grinned and changed his position on the bed. You wanted badly to just throw something at him, or yell at him for being stupid, but you knew better than to start a fight with him. 

        “Damon, what I do on my Saturday nights is my business.” You plopped yourself on the bed and grabbed Damon’s hand. “I’m not doing anything dangerous I promise.” His form softened a bit with your touch, but you could tell he still hadn’t given up on finding out your plans. 

         “Fine don't tell me, but I'm just going to assume you're going to a strip club or something.” You groaned and pushed his cold body down onto the bed. 

      “I’m not going to a….” You stopped when you felt the slight brush of a cold hand go across your arm. Damon had grabbed your phone and was going through it. “Damon! Give that back!” You clawed at him and tried everything to get your phone out of his hands, but you couldn’t. 

      “Oh look, you have a message from the little Psyco witch boy.” He suddenly got stiff and his face became rigid. Kai must have said something about the date, otherwise, Damon would have never known a thing. 

        “Damon, look I..” He cut you off once more.

         “Kai parker? Out of all the Psychopaths in the world. you choose the one that I know, you choose the one that is trying to kill our friends.” He was mad now and you could clearly see it. 

        “Damon calm down. He is different with me.” You realised how stupid you sounded, but Kai really was good to you. He was calm, charming, and caring. You really liked him. 

        “What the hell Y/N, do you hear yourself right now.” He yelled. “He could hurt you in an instant, he is crazy and will do whatever he wants no matter how brutal it is. “ 

          “Sound like someone I know.” You said as you folded your arms across your chest. 

       A low growl escaped Damon’s lips. “I am nothing like him.” He said as he slowly pushed you up against a wall. His arms were by your head and his eyes were glaring into yours. “You can’t go out with him tonight.” He whispered. “I won’t let you.” 

       “You can’t stop me, Damon.” You whispered in his ear. You shoved him away and to your surprise, he moved. 

        “Fine, go, but I will be within shouting distance the whole time. And If you even sound uncomfortable for 2 seconds I will rip his head off.” You put your hands on your hips and just looked at him. 

        “What are you like my protector now? last I checked Damon I can take care of myself.”  His form softened because he knew you were right. “I’m going on a date with Kai Parker, Damon. I’m telling you now, I know what he can do and I’m telling you he is different and he would never hurt me.” Damon quickly got annoyed and you could tell. “Now can I have my Phone back?” 


    A/N: Sorry this took so long, I feel like this isn’t my best work so I apologize , but I do hope it doesn’t stink too bad. :) 

captainsolaceandneeks  asked:

Could you do number 6 for the prompts? It sounds so angsty

(yeah sorry heh i don’t really do angst so this is what you get i’m sorry i tried)

6. “Help me pack or get out. You’re in the way.”

When Will comes out to his mother it does not go well.

There’s tears. A lot of tears. And screams, and two broken vases and a photograph ripped in pieces. Then three slammed doors and a timer set for one hour.

One hour for Will to pack his things and get out of the house.

His mother has always been dramatic, so the first twenty minutes of the shouting Will was still hopeful. Maybe she’ll calm down. Maybe she’ll come around and understand. But now, picking up his duffel bag with trembling hands and trying to think what necessities he need to pack, Will can see that that’s not going to happen.

Will ignores his tears almost as well as he ignores his ringing phone. He sets the phone on silent and keeps it in his pocket, not wanting to look at Nico’s name flashing on the screen. The tears make his vision blurry, and he wipes them away angrily when he storms around his room and picks up things he needs.

He has thirty-seven minutes left when he sits down on his bed and catches his breath that comes out in huffs. His heart is stuttering. He has given up trying to stop his knees from shaking. He tries to recall where he put his old backpack three months ago when he bought a new one.

His door creaks open.

“Do you need something, Will?” Kayla asks, her voice small and cautious, like she’s afraid Will will lash out on her. “Maybe if I talk to her it would - “

“You and I both know that’s not going to work.” It scares Will how hollow his voice is, how little emotion he’s able to pour into the words. He feels so empty and angry and betrayed he wants to scream, but his body is slowly turning numb. “She’s made herself clear. I’ll be out of her hair soon.”

Will gets up and finds the backpack from his closet. When he starts stuffing his clothes in it he hears Kayla step in the room and pace around nervously.

“Where will you go?” she asks, quite fairly, and Will doesn’t even think before he answers.

“To Nico’s, for now. After graduation I don’t know. We’ve been talking about New York.”

“Will you come visit?”

Will opens a desk drawer, decides he doesn’t need any of the stuff there, then closes it and opens the next one. “I don’t know, Kayla. You know I hate leaving you behind, and I’m going to miss you, but I don’t think I can see Mom for a while.”

Kayla shifts from one foot to another. “Surely, once she’s cooled off, she’ll come around. Just give it a little time - “

“No, Kayla, she won’t! She’s made it perfectly clear she has no intention to even try to see things from my perspective. You didn’t see her face.” He checks the time on his phone and sees he has six missed calls from Nico. He types a quick message, telling him he’ll be there in twenty minutes. “Now, Kayla, I love you, but help me pack or get out. You’re in the way.”

Will doesn’t look at her when he starts picking a few scattered items from his nightstand and hears her leave the room quietly. He hates snapping at Kayla, she hasn’t done anything wrong, but he hopes she’ll understand. He’ll call her once he’s calmed down a little.

He has fourteen minutes to spare when he walks down the hall with two backpacks and a duffel bag, digging for his car keys from his pocket. Kayla waits by the door and wordlessly hugs him once he reaches her. He can feel her tears soaking to his shirt.

“Promise me one thing, Kay”, he whispers to her hair. “Promise me you won’t tell her you knew all along. I don’t want things to go bad between you.”

“They’re already bad.”

“Promise me.”

Once she whispers her promise, Will giver her one last squeeze before letting go of her. He walks to his car and throws his stuff to the passenger seat, then turns to look at the house. He can see his mother peeking through the curtains of the living room window. Only a small part of her face is visible, but Will can see the anger and disgust in her eyes, even from the driveway.

Will climbs to the car and leaves.

(i’m not crying you’re crying god help me)

anonymous asked:

At first I found the joke about jimin around whit people funny, because I'm a POC that works in retail that's my face all the time with rude costumers but then I just started disliking the joke. Cause you can tell my baby just shy and he doesn't know what to do exactly. He's in a new culture and country so of course he's going to act a little confused and mono tone. The he was getting hate that seriously was so stupid. I hope he doesn't see any of it because I don't want him to beat himself up.

Thank you for agreeing with me! I’m just furious about how people can overlook the fact that at least some people that has the same point of view as mine and disagreeing with the “joke” were not thinking about how it would hurt the “white” but JIMIN!!!! 

Why use color? Why use his pics in such a joke? I am offended by the joke, not because it uses the word “white”, but because you use Jimin for your ridiculous vendetta. Do you know how much hate he will get by people who misunderstood things? Do you know how many people are now looking at the boys and into the fandom thanks to Billboard? And how many there are that just now joining the fandom and might not get the joke?

No, I’m not talking about how it’s hurt people in that skin color, or any certain race. But how it will hurt Jimin. Don’t you people know how easy it is for them to get access to everything we put online? Even if you’re going to say “no, the boys don’t have tumblr”. This is the internet! People in twitter has access as much as we have to theirs and they can spread our posts as much as we can spread theirs on our blogs, and it’ll be no problem for that “joke” to reach their eyes sooner or later. Stop overlooking that fact alone, and please consider how Jimin would feel if he sees, when he must’ve already feel bad that day for being so out of place and nervous about the award and the event itself. He was in a foreign land. If only you use the caption “Let me go home” instead of that caption, then I will laugh along with you.


Anonymous said: It’s a joke. Don’t worry it won’t be affecting white peoples privilege in the end of the day :-) I don’t care if they get butt hurt over a joke when they don’t get discriminated/oppressed in real life. Poc get murdered for just their skin color and lots of other things I can say.

This message just came in at the same time I was typing that long answer above, so I’m just going to put this here because I know there are many of you who thinks the same as this person and I hate having to type my answer all over again, when I know for some reason our logical answers can never get through to your heads. Please read my long answer above your message, my kind person. And tell me this, have you watched the current interview on Kiisfm FB live? Did you see the interviewer mentioning to the boys how the phrase “third guy from the left” becomes a trending topic? Now when you do see this, please imagine if the boys go to the internet, and not only they find those posts about Jin and Jungkook, but also the Jimin’s “joke”. Now try to imagine how they feel about it, and come back to me. Please don’t point your fingers at me calling me whitey as you guys did to my POC friends. I’m Asian. My skin color tone is yellow and I have nothing against others with different skin color than mine.

This will be the last time I answer this matter. Like I said in the previous tag, anyone coming in trying to talk about this again and disregard my long ass answer above will be ignored. I’m done talking. And if you’re not going to listen then so be it. I’m just praying no hell is going to be let loose. And praying that Jimin is having a hell of fun out there.

I’m Staying - Unknown’s story

…This is one of my first requests.  And I’ve finally gotten around to writing it.  Because no more school!  And I’m finally catching my breath with my job.

Summary: In my Ideal World, after the Secret Endings, and after they are an established couple, Unknown discovers something about MC that she’s been trying to hide. (2nd person narrative)

Rating:  M for mature, because it’s not explicit, but it is there.

Length:  Almost 1600 words


Keep reading

hithering  asked:

Joy do you have any advice on how to make yourself sit down and write? (I couldn't find a post you might have made about it, but if you made one sorry for asking!) I have five different things outlined and fiddled with, and a fair few projects that got started and died around 20k words. I can't seem to keep myself interested or focused, and I have a very hard time forming habits enough to write daily. Any advice?

I go through this a lot, either due to mental health stuff (I can literally be screaming internally at myself to do something and my brain just…doesn’t do the thing, like I’m fully capable of it but the message gets lost somewhere between thought and action) and also just plain creative burnt out.

The latter is easier to remedy because I allow myself to rest and let my brain reset by doing something like reading a book, playing a game or visiting somewhere interesting.

The former…not so much.

The thing that helps me the most when I am well and truly struggling to write (so most of the latter half of 2016) is to set myself realistic goals. While some days I can churn out a 5000 word chapter, there are other days when I will struggle to write 5. And on those days five whole words can seem like a god damn epic.

So what I do now is I set myself a goal, every day, of achieving 500 words. 

It doesn’t have to be a good 500 words, or even words that end up in my book, just so long as it is 500 words. Even if you never use them, they still count towards the developmental process of your manuscript. It’s engaging your brain and getting you into the mindset you need to be in in order to turn out the work you want to finish. One of my favorite exercises which I’ve talked about before, is the cafe exercise.

If a story stalls or I start to lose my way with a character, I take them out of their world, and drop them into a cafe somewhere in the world. Doesn’t have to be anywhere interesting, London, Paris, the Starbucks two streets away where the tea tastes like pond swill but the wifi is free*. I let them people watch, I let their senses meander through new experiences, the smell of coffee, the copper tang of their change lingering on their fingers from the coins, the sharpness of their tea, the mellowness of the flowers behind them, the way the light makes things look like they’re not quite real, the sound of traffic, the ugly sweater that person is wearing, the way they feel right then and now. I let them have silly conversations. I do all the inane little things with them that humans enjoy doing without the stress of over arcing plot (and we wonder why there’s so many coffee shop AUs) and just generally…gives you a break from your own world, while still letting you develop your characters and practice writing. And that’s the main thing.

And you do need to be in a habit of writing every day. It’s a skill that needs to be used every day, and it has to become habit otherwise it withers and dies. Great plot was never completed by talent alone. Even Stephen King, master of writing entire novels in mere days, had a dry spell where he thought he’d never write again.

It doesn’t have to be prolific and it doesn’t have to be profound.  The wheel is already invented. Fire is discovered. You’re not trying to be original (I hate that word) what you are in fact trying to be is interesting. You are trying to engage and light up the parts of the human brain that says “hey do you know what would be cool, if the wheel was on fire.”

And if the 500 words isn’t going to be achievable, well, I allow myself 250. Because any progress is better than none, and tomorrow I will try again.

(*If you suffer like I do at the mercy of your own inability to focus, fucking turn wifi off. Just, don’t let yourself get bogged down by shiny. Don’t start writing then go “oh actually I should look that up”. Make a mark in your document to go back to it later during a rewrite and insert the relevant researched info afterwards, it doesn’t fucking matter on the first write, you’re just trying to tell yourself the story and get the lay of the land right now, you can fill in the interesting tourist info spots after we’re sure we’re not about to walk off the edge of a cliff.)

anonymous asked:

Hello! I'm 14 in high school and I was just wondering what to do if I don't get into my dream schools for university? My parents put a lot of pressure on me and I compete with another kid at school because we don't want to be what my parents call 'useless children'. A's aren't good enough for my parents, they won't talk to me or refer to me by name unless I beat all of the other children in my class. I was just wondering what you would do? Have a lovely day, your blog is goals <3

Hello! I’ll start by saying, I don’t want this to come across rude or disrespectful in any way. I don’t know much about your life and parents but from what you’ve shared, I feel what they’re doing to could be counterproductive. It might help in a way but you could end up seeing any form of studying as a chore and come to resent it. At 14, you honestly shouldn’t be worrying about university. Yes, perhaps be starting to think what you’re interested in pursuing as an overarching career but already thinking about the potential you don’t get in seems so unnecessary. You’re incredibly young. You have so much life experience and learning to get through before university applications are even something to consider. At 14, I didn’t even know what I wanted to study. I choose my degree at 18 and ended up hating it. I switched my major and my current degree didn’t even exist when I was your age. Your interests are bound to change but having university as a goal is a good thing to have. There are so many ways and options for getting into university or even getting a degree. Since you’re 14 you have a lot of time to practice for your senior year and help reduce the chances of rejection from universities. However, universities tend to look beyond grades now-a-days. They consider other things like social and extracurricular activities. Plus, depending on where you live you might have to do a personal essay/statement. There are also many instances of people who don’t go to university or drop out who end up extremely successful. University isn’t the only way to do well in life. It makes me extremely upset to think your parents won’t call you by name if you don’t beat some classmates on a test. You’re not defined by a grade or whether you can beat Fred at long division. You’re so much more than that. Please remember that if they ever make you feel like you’re not enough. I understand that your parents could see beating others as ‘success’ but it shouldn’t be a requirement. I don’t think you should be pitted against classmates, especially at 14. Friendly competition with friends is okay and probably quite motivating but putting that kind of pressure on you seems unnecessary. I think it is really important for you to keep studying about learning and not about the grade. What I don’t want to happen for you is that you get overly worked up about the grades, either burnout or cheat because the marks are more important than you learning and improving. I also want to say that your parents are, more than likely, trying to support and help you succeed. I admit it is a funny way of showing it but deep down they’re probably just wanting the best for you. If they refer to you as useless, please remember that you are not. You  have so many lovely traits and qualities. A good grade or high mark is not the only thing that is important about you. Being a good person, having life experience, and understanding yourself are much more important things to have than a test with 99%. I hope this has helped. If you ever need to talk, please message me xx

anonymous asked:

hi! I was wondering if I could request an angsty turned to nsfw Jumin scenario/imagine/hc (whatever you prefer for it) where he gets back from a business trip and MC is mad at him because he barely called her the entire time he was gone and they argue a little but she ultimately ends up teasing him as a "punishment" I need frustrated Jumin in my life (omg I'm so embarrassed requesting this hahaha)

Hello, anon! I couldn’t angst for the life of me, but I think I got a little carried away with this one. 

I know I’m cutting this at a crucial part, but should I make a part two, or just be a tease and leave it at that? Teehee.

~Nao

Reversing Roles (Jumin x MC)

It’s quiet and a little unsettling.

I’m tired and sleepy, but I don’t think she would appreciate it if I dozed off.

She told me to wait for her, but it’s already been a couple of minutes. Where did she go?

These were some of the thoughts that raced inside C&R director Jumin Han’s mind as he was blindfolded and tied to the bed. He was starting to feel queasy and frustrated, and his stomach churned at the thought of you cruelly leaving him in this condition all night as punishment.

He was used to always being the one giving orders and tying you to the bed, but how exactly did your roles reverse?


2 hours earlier…

“I’m home, my love,“ Jumin greeted as he opened the door to the new home that you and him started to share until recently. However, instead of you welcoming him, it was Elizabeth the 3rd who greeted him alone at the entrance. 

“Meow~“ 

“Hello, Elizabeth,“ Jumin carefully placed the paper bags he had been carrying onto the floor and bent to stroke under Elizabeth the 3rd’s chin. He smiled, as he was rewarded by a series of purrs.

That’s strange. MC and Elizabeth the 3rd usually greet me together, but it’s only Elizabeth who welcomed me home this time.

“Where could MC be?“ Jumin thought out loud. As if answering his question, Elizabeth the 3rd started to make her way to where you were. 

Picking up the bags, he followed her, and as he neared the living room, he heard you talking to somebody on the phone. “…no, he hasn’t called ever since. All I’m left with was a handwritten note from the day he left for his business trip, and I’m worried…..it’s been a week, but he said he’d only be gone for three days…“ 

You were facing the window overlooking the nightscape. There was also an empty bottle of wine and a half full wine goblet on the side table. How long had she been drinking alone? 

“No, we didn’t fight or anything….yes, I tried calling him multiple times, and all I got was voicemail. I even asked Jaehee to have him call me back if he calls her, but she couldn’t get a hold of him either….I miss him, Zen….yes, yes, I know, thank you for worrying. I’ll call you back when he gets home. Bye,“ you ended the call and started to cry. Jumin couldn’t bear that he’d unexpectedly made you upset, so he dropped the bags, crossed the room in a few strides, and embraced you from behind, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“I’m sorry to have worried you MC, but I’m home now my love,“

“J-Jumin??? How— how long have you been there? “

You dried your tears, broke away from his embrace, and observed him. Aside from the sad look he gave you, he was put together and clean shaven. At least he came home safe…

“Why didn’t you return any of my calls and messages? Didn’t you know how lonely and worried I was?!?“

“Oh, about that, I—-”

“I try to understand how busy you are with work, but sometimes, I wonder if you’re just using that as an excuse to ignore me.“

“MC—“

“Am I not worth your time anymore, Mr. Jumin Han?“

“ENOUGH!!! You were talking with Zen earlier, shouldn’t I be the one getting angry instead?“

“What? Am I not allowed to talk to anybody anymore? Zen was only trying to reassure me that you’d be coming back, Jumin! Who knows what you’ve been up to in that trip? Even Jaehee couldn’t contact you!“

“If you’re trying to accuse me of cheating on you, then you’re mistaken, MC! You know how I hate that my father changed women as if he were just changing his clothes! I would never do that to you! You know how much I love you; how could you suspect me like that?“

His broken tone had you coming to your senses, and you stood there in stunned silence as Jumin pinched the bridge of his nose, a frown marring his handsome face.It took him a while to calm himself, and he looked straight at you when it seemed like he had regained his composure. 

“Sit down, dear,” he motioned for you to sit down on the loveseat. He sat beside you and attempted to embrace you, but you were still sulking, so he settled for holding your hand instead. “Will you let me explain, my love?“ you were pointedly avoiding eye contact, but you nodded.  

“The reason the trip got extended was because the negotiations almost didn’t go through. I thought I was only there to finalize the deal with the client, but I found out that somebody on our side messed up, and I had to fix it somehow,“ “…but the lack of phone calls?“ Jumin chuckled and sheepishly rubbed his nape. 

“Well…that was because part of the condition was to spend time with the client’s 3-year old child, and the brat somehow got hold of my phone and he threw it in a lake. By the time we found the phone, it was already unsalvageable even when one of the staff thought to put it in a bag of rice overnight,“ by this time, you could tell that he was distressed because he wouldn’t normally use such words as “brat“, but you couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the thought of the C&R Director chasing a toddler around.

“Oh you poor thing! So that’s why. But you could have asked to borrow somebody else’s phone and called Jaehee at least. She was also worried because her calls wouldn’t go through either,“ you almost wanted to forgive him, but you were still holding out.   

“If I could call somebody at that time, I would have called you first… but then, all my contacts were in that phone, and I didn’t have any numbers memorized. I’m sorry, MC. Please let me make it up to you,“ he looked hopefully at you, like a child expecting to get a present that he always wanted.

“Hmm… I don’t know, Jumin. I told you to carry a copy of your contacts list in a small notebook before, but you never listened.“

“I know, and I’m sorry. I’ll order Assistant Kang to make me a copy of my contacts first thing in the morning.“

You shook your head. “No dear, you have to do it by yourself. Jaehee was already neck deep in work the last time I checked. You could at least lessen the projects that you give her.“

“Alright, no more unnecessary projects. Please forgive me, I’ll do anything you want.“

You perked up at the thought of your husband offering to do anything for you. “Really? Anything?“

“Yes, my love, anything.“

“Well, there IS something I’ve been meaning to try…“


Jumin heard the door open and close, followed by the sound of somebody moving around the room. “MC, is that you?“ “Did I permit you to talk?“ “No ma’am,“ he had used that tone on you a couple of times, so he knew not to address you casually.

There was a soft thunk by the bedside table, and he felt the bed dip, and the smell of your citrus and green tea shower gel permeated his nostrils as you sat beside him. “So, what shall I do to you first, Mr. Han?“ your tone was seductive, like honey smoothly gliding over his soul. “You do know that I intend to get payback in full after this, don’t you… ma’am?“ there was a sound of rummaging from his right side.

“Cheeky bastard. If you’re going to get payback after this, then I might as well make it count. I wonder though, should I just take off that blindfold and eat a sandwich in front of you? Or should I build a block tower instead?“ “MC…“ there was a hint of warning in his voice, and a tick in his jaw. It was  fun teasing him like this, but you knew not to push your luck.

anonymous asked:

Yeah, now I'm convinced 100% Lena is Morgana 2.0 and Rhea will be her Morgause. Only diference is that Morgana didn't have a Kara that promise to always be there and protect her and I HOPE that changes the outcome

I definitely see the road that they are trying to take with Rhea, but I am still not convinced enough to dial Lena down to Morgana 2.0. There are way more things to consider than the negative aspects that make them alike.

First, let us consider those that Morgana was against. By the time Morgause moved in on her, Morgana had already started down her dark path. She wanted Uther (a “good” character) dead. She hated a canonically good person. She had even gone as far to make an attempt on Uther’s life before changing her mind. Of course she had excellent reasons to hate him but in the battle of good vs. evil trope, she went to the wrong side. Morgause’s manipulation only continued to ease her down the path that she had already started on. Let us not forget that while Morgause did use her, Morgana went to her first. She told Morgause what she wanted and what she initially tried to do. Following Merlin’s attempt on her life, Morgause had a whole year to finish poisoning Morgana’s heart and mind against those she used to love. Morgana knew what she was, just not exactly what she was capable of.


Lena isn’t there. And I don’t think she will be. At least not anytime soon and not by Rhea’s doing. It is clear that Lena is not going to be initially aware of who Rhea is and what her intentions will be. I mean, give her some credit. I find it extremely hard to believe that Lena would be so open and welcoming to someone that approached her with an evil plan. Yes, she is vulnerable. Yes, she is going through a hard time experiencing loss. But in light of all of that, she is still quite self-aware. She knows of the dangers she faces of being just like Lex and Lillian and the fact that she not only knows that but is afraid shows that she wants to make sure it doesn’t happen. The fact that she has Kara to hold on to helps her with that. The only ones that Lena is against at the moment are her mother and Cadmus. There is not a good character that Lena is at odds with.

She is at a point in her life where she wishes to surround herself with people that can positively influence her. She doesn’t know many at the moment. So when someone approaches her under a seemingly genuine guise of friendship, reaching out when she is in need, of course she is going to be trusting. It is the perfect manipulation – taking advantage of her vulnerability and her good nature. Rhea knows how to capitalize on that. She knows what Lena is missing and can sense what she wants.

I have no doubt that Lena will have a sense of attachment. But I also have no doubt that when she learns the truth about Rhea, she will definitely feel betrayed. Because there is someone else that wanted nothing more than to use her and her resources for ills. She’s been used and hurt by a lot of people in her life so she would not be willing to help someone that did the same – especially if that person not only aims to hurt her but others as well.

We already know that Lena will be Team Supergirl and she will be working with the DEO and Lillian to take down the Daxamites so let’s guess where that will leave Mother Figure Rhea. Gone. Back on Daxam. Dead. Who knows? But her grip on Lena – also gone. It has also been stated that Kara and Lena’s friendship will continue to develop and be explored into the next season.


My final point: They have put way too much development into Lena having her lean a certain way to have her go bad at the end of the season for someone she literally just met. Lena Luthor, the woman that saved Supergirl a number of times, went out of her way to see justice done, worked late hours to help find kidnapped aliens – with a smile on her face – and single-handedly saved the aliens of National City (possibly even the world), isn’t going to turn on a dime and fight for the big bad. She just won’t. It literally goes against everything that they have put in place for her. It goes against nearly every message and moral of this season. Our girl will be just fine. Lena and Morgana are two different entities. There are negative aspects in the stories that are shared, but as Kara said:

There are too many things to consider in Lena’s favor. Kara’s influence is only one of them.

Let’s see what happens on tonight’s episode.

anonymous asked:

Can I get UT, UF Sans + US, SF Papyrus reacting to a close friend texting them and asking if they've eaten dinner, the skelly hasn't eaten in a while and replies with something like "nah, i'm already too fat/i'm tryna lose the weight of my problems" and the friend never replies back. Five minutes later the door to their house bursts open and the friend is there with bags of food and aggressively yells "I SPRINTED THROUGH MULTIPLE BLOCKS AND YOU'RE GONNA F'KIN EAT, YA HEAR ME!?"

Okay so sorry for all the texting in this, but I can’t explain how much I love domestic texting between friends. This turned into small drabbles btw and sorry if they didn’t turn out the way you wanted them to, I got carried away. 

I also put a keep reading on this, I think I’m going to start doing that on the very long posts. Tell me if it doesn’t work on mobile and I’ll remove it or try and work around it.

UT!Sans: -When he gets the first message he just thinks you’re looking to invite him out for some grub, but he’s honestly not feeling like heading to Grillby’s right now. Still, he doesn’t see any reason to lie to you. So he sends a quick message back.

5:21 pm - nah, but my bones are big enough already. dont need extra weight on them.

He waits for a few minutes. Nothing happens. Did you just forget to reply back? It says that you read it… He figures that you probably just forgot though, or you headed out for dinner by yourself. He’s content with this reasoning as he turns back to the TV, sinking deep into the couch cushions. He gets two more minutes of TV watching before the front door is slammed open, and for a second he’s sure that Undyne is here, until you step into his line of vision. Your face is red and you’re trying to catch your breath. You also have a slight manic look on your face that is making him question if it’d be wise to ask why you’re here.

‘’Um… Y/N?’’ he says trying to make sense of your messy form.

You’re still panting as you set two delicious smelling bags on the coffee table in front of him. You bend over and put your hands on your knees, breathing almost normally now.

‘’What are you doing here?’’ he asks again.

You look up at him, takes a deep breath while you straighten yourself and then from nowhere you yell at him.

‘’I JUST SPRINTED THROUGH MULTIPLE BLOCKS AFTER GETTING THIS FOOD AND YOU ARE GOING TO EAT IT OR SO HELP ME!’’ you yell angrily with a fierce look in your eyes.

Normally he’d say a joke, or argue just for the fun of it. But your eyes are showing genuine concern, and you did go out of your way to make sure he’d eat. So instead he moves over on the couch and pats the seat next to him.

‘’Jeez, kid. Talk about home delivery,’’ he laughs while looking away from you.

You make your way over to him and plop down on the couch with a sigh. Leaning back and stretching out your limbs you make a grabby gesture for the bags, which are still sitting on the table. He smiles wryly and gestures with his hand making the bags float towards you. You grab one of them with a contented smile and then rips it open, digging in on whatever is inside. Handing him the left over ketchup packets, which he stores in his pocket for later use. He does the same and you both turn to face the TV. When you’ve finished the meals, you both sit in a comfortable silence. Enjoying each other’s presence while watching one stupid show after the other.

He can’t help but feel like this is the kind of friendship he’s always wanted.

UF!Sans: - An annoying electronic chime woke him up from his sleep. He grunted and fumbled around in complete darkness until his hand felt something hard on his bed. Reaching out he grabbed ahold of his phone and tried to find the home screen button. He winced when the bright light blinded him, trying to cover his eye sockets. Swearing, he turned the brightness down and opened his new text message. Your contact named showed up as the phone loaded your recent conversation, you’d sent him a couple of texts while he’d been asleep and he read through them carefully.

6:34 pm - Yo Red, what’d you eat for dinner today?

6:44 pm - RED

6:46 pm - Red answer me I need to know

6:47 pm - Did you fall asleep again?

6:58 pm - Okay that’s it, I’m coming over and I’m bringing food. You better be up and ready or I am dragging your bony butt out of bed

Wait you were doing what? He looked at the time. 7:00 pm. Shit you’d be here soon. He threw himself off the bed, but his legs got tangled in the bed sheets and instead of standing up, he fell on the floor face first. Grunting he tried to get up, when he heard someone knock on the front door. Panicking he flailed around even more, managing to get the sheets stuck between his fibula and tibula. He stood up on one leg, and hopped around while trying to untangle himself from his prison of bedsheets and blankets. Just as he was standing there bent forward and hopping on one leg, the door opened. He looked up like a deer in headlights and saw you standing in his door opening. Flushed face, panting and desperately trying to hold back a grin.

‘’The fuck you lookin’ at,’’ he grunted as he once again fought to get free.

‘’Oh nothing-’’ you said, leaning against the doorframe -’’just enjoying the performance.’’

He muttered something that sounded like a quiet fuck you, and then finally got his leg free and stood up straight. Stretching, he managed to pop his back in a few places and he grunted in satisfaction. He walked past you and into his living room. Turning to look as you followed him out.

‘’Did ya bring food?’’ he asked.

‘’Yes,’’ you replied simply. ‘’And you are going to eat it’’

‘’I don’t need any more food, I’m heavy enough as it is.’’

You turned around and gave him a dangerously calm look.

‘’I just sprinted through a lot of blocks to get you this food,’’ you said walking closer to him. ‘’And you are going to eat every. last. fucking. bit. You hear me?’’ Your voice was low and almost threatening, and your eyes gleamed of determination.

He never thought that he’d call his small human friend scary, but that look you were giving him chilled him to the bones. And the smell of the food broke his will down, you bought him food for hells sake. He wasn’t about to turn that down.

‘’Fine,’’ he muttered and sat down on the couch.

You smiled and joined him, tossing him one of the bags while opening your own. You ate in silence, the only sounds coming from the TV playing in front of you both. It wasn’t until you had both finished your food and was sat quietly watching the show that a thought entered his head. He never gave you a key to his flat…

‘’How the hell did you get in here??’’

US!Papyrus: Papyrus sucks at looking after himself. And he never pays attention to when he should be sleeping or eating. Meaning that when he’s up playing video games in the middle of the night, it’s safe to presume that he has not been eating anything other than a few snacks for the past hours. This night was one of those nights.

He just never bothered to keep track of time.

He did know that it was late, though. Way too late for anyone to be texting him. Which is why he jumped when his phone went off next to him on the floor.

He glanced at it quickly but then looked back at the TV, doing his best not to die before the event had been completed. About five seconds from pulling through, someone shot him from behind and he fought the urge to yell in frustration as his characters sank down on the ground. He flopped backwards with a sigh and lifted his phone to read the message. Smiling slightly when he saw your name on the screen.

12:54 am - Heyyy you up?

Were you drunk or bored? Scientists can’t tell he thought and snorted at his own joke. He typed out a lazy text and waited a few seconds on your reply.

1:01 am - yea im up

1:02 am - Can’t sleep?

1:02 am - wasnt tryin, you?

1:03 am - Me neither, what’d you eat today?

1:04 am - I dont think i ate anything tbh, why

No reply. Did you fall asleep or just ditch him? He should probably go to bed then. But he can’t be bothered to get off the floor. And he’s not feeling tired enough to fall asleep where he is. Maybe he should just stay there for a while. Meditate or something.

His phone chimed again and he unlocked it as he lifted it to his face

1:09 am - Open your door

1:10 am - what ?

1:10 am - I am outside your house, open the front door or I’m climbing through your window

There was no way you were outside his house. And he didn’t feel like getting up and walking into the prank willingly

1:11 am - i call bluff on this

He waited for your comeback, where you’d desperately try and get him to go out and check the front of his house. But he wasn’t going to do that. He wasn’t about to let you own him like that, he’s not stupid.

A knock on the window made him jump and scramble to his feet. You sat on the roof under his window in a crouch. When you saw that you had grabbed his attention you started frantically gesturing for the lock. He stared at you for a while, to your obvious irritation, until he walked forwards and opened the window. You jumped in and opened your backpack on the floor, pulling out two bags of take out food. You checked the content of them both, and then handed him one while you started eating from yours. He took it from you but continued staring at you.

‘’Are you going to open it?’’ you asked with your mouth full of food.

‘’It’s the middle of the night,’’ he said. ‘’What are you doing here?’’

‘’I wanted take out food. And I wanted to eat it with you. And since you’re so stupid that you can’t even get your own food, I decided to bring it to you,’’ you said simply, still munching away on your food.

He sat down in front of you, but still didn’t touch his bag. You looked up at him, and this time you looked even more irritated then before.

‘’Listen dude, I worked hard for that food, so you better fucking eat it,’’ you said in an angry voice.

‘’Listen dude,’’ he said mimicking your voice. ‘’I’m trying to loose the weight of my problems here.’’ He tried giving you the food back.

Your eyes widened a little, and your face softened. You leaned forward and pushed the bag back into his hands.

‘’Please eat, Papy,’’ you said in a much softer voice, your eyes almost pleading.

Deciding to give up he sat beside you and picked at the contents of his bag. For take out food, it looked surprisingly non greasy. Still good though. He picked it up and started eating, while reaching for his TV remote to put on some night tv. You ate in silence for a while, until you stood up and flopped down on his bed. He did the same and crawled over you so he was laying facing the wall. Saying your goodnights, you slowly drifted off to sleep.

He woke up the next day to an empty bed and an open window.

SF!Papyrus: When Rus gets in a low mood, taking care of himself doesn’t seem all that important. He’s not lazy, really. More apathetic. Doing chores and errands for his brother and superior keeps his mind busy and his hands occupied, letting him get through the day a little easier. But when he’s alone at night, everything becomes a little harder. And self care turns into a chore he’s not motivated enough to do.

He’d rather just wrap himself in a blanket and quietly suffer in silence, waiting it out. Hoping to feel a little better soon.

Alone…

He’s drifted off to sleep without even noticing, dreamless and exhausted despite it not even being 5 pm yet. When he slowly drifts back to conscousness he feels like he could sleep for a week more. But something woke him up, and he should probably see what that was.

His phone lights up with a soft ding. Showing two text notification and several others from social media. Grunting softly, he flipped over and reached out for it. Fumbling before his fingers got a good grip. He brought the phone closer to him, trying to unlock it while rubbing the sleep off his face. He got the passcode wrong three times before he managed to steady his hand enough to tap it in. Insisting on doing it with his thumb instead of holding the thing with both hands.

Your name shows up on the screen, along with the many emojis you’d used when you added yourself as a contact on his phone. He feels like smiling at the thought, but he’s too tired to move his face. So he starts reading the messages you sent him instead.

5:07 pm - Hey Papyrus

5:07 pm - What’d you have for dinner today?

He wants to type out some made up bullshit and go back to sleep. But you don’t deserve lies when you’re showing concern. This thought actually makes him smile, you’re so sweet.

5:10 pm - Haven’t eaten yet

Good, that wasn’t a lie. But he still wouldn’t worry you enough for you to take action. Meaning he could go back to sleep again.

5:10 pm - Papyrus you have to eat!!!!

Or not…

5:11 pm - I’m on a diet, it’s called ‘’how to loose the weight of your problems by not eating’’

That probably wasn’t the smartest thing to send you he thought. Shit he didn’t want to worry you before, why would he send you that. Like this wasn’t going to make you worry. God that was so stupid.

His phone made another sound, you’d sent him another message.

5:13 pm - Ok that’s it

Wait what

5:13 pm - what

What the hell were you doing? He flopped down onto the bed and put a hand over his eye sockets. Whatever it was he’d started now, he wasn’t feeling up for it. He honestly just wanted to go back to sleep. But instead he waited for your message, where you would explain what was going on. It never came. And eventually he felt his eyes slowly start creeping together. And his hand slid away from his face, coming to a rest on his pillow as he turned his body sideway. A minute later and he was sound asleep, snoring softly while curled around himself.

A sound woke him up, much louder than the first time. He sat up as he heard footsteps approaching. Expecting it to be his brother, he started to frantically straighten his clothing, intending to appear as if he hadn’t been asleep for the last god knows how long.

The footsteps were even closer now.

Suddenly his door flew open, slamming into his wall and most likely leaving a mark in the drywall. You stormed in, closed the door just as hard as you’d pushed it open, and then stormed over to him.

‘’I-’’ you started while still marching towards him-’’just ran like a hundred blocks to get you this food, so you are going to eat every last bit!’’ Your voice was loud and you sounded close to angry.

He blinked at you for a few seconds. ‘’I didn’t need food,’’ he said finally. His quiet voice a contrast to your own.

‘’I don’t care,’’ you answered. ‘’Knowing you, you probably haven’t eaten all day. And even if you have, you’re still eating dinner. Now move over and make some room for me’’

You hopped up in his bed before he got a chance to follow orders. And then you threw one of the bags in his direction, before you opened your own. He caught his bag midair and held it in his hands for a few moments. Then he resigned. Leaning over he grabbed his laptop and set it up on his nightstand, putting on his recently watched show on netflix. He figured that he’d have to right to choose the entertainment after you practically broke into his apartment. Besides, he knew that you had seen the show already.

You both ate in a comfortable silence, caught up in the show. Every now and then, he would glance back at you. Study you. He knew humans could be loyal, a trait that had mostly been lost by monsters. And he didn’t doubt that your concerns were genuine. But in his quiet curiosity one question always came back to him.

Why did you care so much?

In an ideal world I would have written this post yesterday, but I’m afraid my schedule just didn’t allow it.

I’ve continued to receive a lot of asks about the drama from the other day, so I’ve complied a bit of a FAQ under the cut.



The blogger you were attacking never said any of what you’re claiming she said!

Hello friends, I would invite you to improve your reading comprehension, because I literally never made ANY claim about any blog saying anything at all.

I responded to an anon I got, asking my opinion about a terrible TERRIBLE idea and went on a rant about it. I said phrase that went on to cause a tremendous shitstorm (though frankly I still don’t know why), “don’t be a cunt”.  I made a few other posts, because I was ANGRY at the fucking entitlement and stupidity of an idea like that, and answered another ask, making it clear I was talking about the anons doing the rounds, and that I had no idea which blog was supposedly saying what. Then I went and had a highly ineffective rage-shower.

During my rage-shower, I was inundated with messages claiming that a particular blog, the one you’re referring to, was the source of the boycott, and was encouraging other people not to buy Harry’s album. I went to her blog and found absolutely nothing of the sort. What I saw was her answering a series of anons saying about people saying they weren’t going to buy the album, and her answering that people should do what they’re comfortable with.

What I ALSO saw was saw her flipping her shit at me in response to my posts, about my anger, my choice of word, and the way I was apparently telling people how to spend their money, and ~enforcing consumerism~. What I don’t particularly understand is why, knowing that she wasn’t encouraging a boycott, she thought my posts about people who were planning a boycott were about her, when obviously they weren’t. She was particularly upset that I was apparently personally calling her a cunt. Which again, I wasn’t. I was raging at a terrible idea, not at an individual, and anyone who actually read my blog as this was happening would have seen that.

I continued to get anons saying that I was targetting her, and telling me to apologise, because she hadn’t said what I said they were saying - I even replied to another ask saying again that it wasn’t about her, and that I had been responding to the barrage of anons that I was seeing across multiple blogs, but that having seen her response to me, now I was pretty annoyed at her.

My inbox continued to explode, it was 3:30am, I went to bed. Things continued to get messy.

It’s a real pity she now has me blocked, because I went to write her a chat message yesterday clarifying that that I absolutely was not calling her a cunt in those posts, and to say that I could see that she was dealing with as many idiots with failing reading comprehension as I was, and to apologise that some arseholes had been taking on themselves to send her anon hate on my behalf. It’s a shame I can’t do that now, especially because we used to be mutuals. 


There wasn’t even a boycott planned, it was just anons running from blog to blog, causing chaos. You overreacted to something that doesn’t exist!

Firstly a reminder that I was very clear that I was specifically replying about the anons that were going around. Secondly, we’ve all seen the way that ideas, both good and bad, spread very VERY quickly through this fandom. In a very sad way, it doesn’t actually matter what the original message was, or was intended to be, because it’s the way it’s interpreted and the way that interpretation echoes through the fandom that really makes an impact. 

No, it wasn’t a formal boycott with an official blog and a twitter hashtag… because it was still only a new idea. If left unaddressed, I’m pretty certain it wouldn’t have taken long for the “Support Louis and End Babygate by Boycotting Harry Styles’ Album" bullshit to snowball into actual fandom chaos. (Granted, I didn’t think opposing it would have caused the fucking meltdown that followed, but still.)

I think it’s important to take a loud stance against an outrageously terrible formative idea, the second it rears its ugly head, because prevention is better than cure, and I’m going to keep doing that. If you don’t like that about me, or have a completely different view of what is or isn’t a bad idea that deserves shouting down, then you’re more than welcome to unfollow, I’m not holding anyone here against their will. 


You shouldn’t have used a misogynistic slur!

Some of you are spectacularly upset by my use of the word “cunt.”  To you, I say “whatever man, it’s just a word.” It’s a swear word NOT a slur. It’s a fucking BODY PART, it can’t be a slur. I have one, some of you have one, whatever. I could have used literally any other swear word and it would have had the same meaning and purpose. I might have said “fucking idiot”, or “ridiculous twat”, or “tremendous dickhead”, or “unstoppable moron”, or “sad waste of carbon”, or literally any other word or phrase designed to make the point of “terrible idea is terrible and anyone who encourages this terrible idea is also terrible.”

If you’re fixated on the word “cunt” more than you are upset at the idea that some people (and again, by that I mean some anons) were trying to peddle around the idea that we should punish Harry for a situation that he’s already suffering through, then quite frankly, you’re just cherry-picking shit to be offended about and WILDLY missing the point, and I don’t have any wish to associate with you.


You can’t tell people what do to with their money!

You’re right. You’re welcome to do whatever you want with your own money, I can’t spend it for you. But here’s the thing:

If you weren’t ever planning on buying Harry’s album because his music isn’t to your taste, or he’s never been one of your favourites, that’s completely fine. You do you, I probs won’t buy Niall or Liam’s albums and I definitely didn’t buy Zayn’s. You are not obligated to support all of the members of One Direction equally, that’s not what being a fan is about.

If you weren’t planning on buying Harry’s album because you’ve been disengaged with the fandom and it doesn’t bring you any joy any more, that’s completely fine. You don’t have to stay at the party if you’re not having fun, and no one is asking you to.

If you weren’t planning on buying Harry’s album because your financial situation doesn’t allow it, that’s completely fine. Obviously real world stuff like food and rent are more important that paying for music that you can’t afford right now, and if you want to support the album, there are still ways you can be involved that don’t cost money, like streaming, tweeting radio stations, and spreading awareness on your blog.

If you weren’t planning on buying Harry’s album because you want to boycott Sony because of the historically shit things that they’ve done then that’s fine… as long as you’re legitimately boycotting EVERY SINGLE Sony artist (and there are a lot of them), and not just Harry. I also hope you then start doing your research, because all music labels have been and will continue to be, terrible to their artists in favour of profit margins. There’s no such thing as a Fairtrade music record label, so if this is your stance, then I hope you’re prepared to almost exclusively listen to unsigned artists for the duration of your niche stubborness.

If you like Harry and his music, but you’re not going to buy his album in order to somehow ~force~ the people running babygate to end it, then I’m sorry, but you’re a fucking idiot. Harry is more affected by babygate than you, as a fan and an outsider, ever will be. Louis is his partner of nearly 7 years, and they go through everything together. Babygate might have targetted Louis, but because they are support system, they’re BOTH suffering through it.

To shun Harry’s creative imput, the album he’s said he’s worked really hard on, that he’s immensely proud of, that he feels represents himself and the things he’s never said before, because babygate hasn’t ended yet is to punish Harry for the specifics of his and his partner’s forcible closeting. Boycotting Harry to end babygate is like fucking to support abstinence and if this is your plan then you’re an dipshit. Don’t be a fucking dipshit.


You’re right, I sent that blogger an ask telling them they’re being a cunt.

Don’t. Fucking. Do that.

Aside from the topics covered in “The blogger you were attacking never said any of what you’re claiming she said!”, never EVER send bullying messages to someone on my behalf. NEVER use my words to attack someone and actually read what someone has actually said before you accuse them of a thing.

If you don’t like what someone is saying on their blog, unfollow. If you don’t follow someone, then why are you bothered by what they’re saying?  Don’t @ people, and don’t send poisonous anon messages to people. Literally what the fuck is wrong with you?


You’re not a nice person

Things I claim to be: outspoken, passionate, sometimes generous, loud, intelligent, obnoxious, witty (but significantly too pleased with myself about it), unbearable

Things I have never once in my life claimed to be: nice


You’re a cunt

You’re welcome to dislike me, but again, you’re not going to offend me by your use of that word, because it’s just a word. I mean, I’m still going to block you, for being the sort of person who sends anon hate, but please be aware that you don’t have the capacity to hurt my feelings.

anonymous asked:

According to that article, Harry and his band started to record and then he decided they need to be free from distractions and went to Jamaica. What a lovely place to write and record while still having fun getting drunk and partying (he made a point to mention it). But it wasn't compulsory that he recorded in Jamaica. This is when Louis and his family was facing a really hard time. It's just hard for me to justify that if they were as supportive of each other as fandom makes them out to be.

Anon, meet your name Anon Friend who also messaged about that post:

Thank you! The Jamaica thing drives me crazy. Hearing about those fun rom-con marathons and drunken nights of swimming in dresses frustrates me so much given that Joannah was in the hospital terminally ill at the time. Louis adored his mom and i can’t imagine the stress of that situation, the secrecy, maintaining stunts, his family. Why the hell aren’t people more concerned with Harry being in the UK to support Louis? Why?

Anons, let’s talk.

First off, I want to state I am not talking about the actual Harry and Louis. I am not making assumptions about how often Louis was in the UK with Harry, whether or not Louis needed a break or a vacation from handling Jay’s illness, or how often Louis was in Jamaica with Harry. I am not making assumptions or guesses or head canons about what the real!Harry and real!Louis did.

Second, this topic really hits close to home right now for me. I have a family member who has been in the hospital for 70 days straight as of today. My brother and I are the only ones around to take care of him. He’s going to be fine, eventually (probably and mostly), but we were told to start considering end of life decisions when he was still unconscious. It’s been a very bumpy, long road.

I am not in Louis’ situation. I understand that. I am not trying to say I understand what he went through–hell no. What I am saying is that I have needed my spouse. Beyond that, I have needed my friends in grad school–people I have only met in the last few months have let me cry on their shoulders (literally). I have had friends help me keep up with assignments and readings. I have needed grace from colleagues. I have had needed fandom friends to help distract me. I have needed my brother. And yes, sometimes I have needed to ignore it all, to avoid the hospital, to negotiate visits with my brother so we can spread them out and take some breaks, live our lives, go laugh at a movie.

What pisses me off is that there are people in this fandom trying to line up dates Harry and Louis weren’t seen as “proof” Louis was in Jamaica. I have seen multiple posts and head canons and analysis of the word “we,” all of them trying to prove that Louis spent a ton of time in Jamaica “supporting” Harry.

And maybe Louis did. Maybe he needed that. There is no judgement here, because anyone knows that people need a break from the hospital, from the draining day-to-day of it. Hell, maybe Jay was still well enough then that Louis didn’t necessarily need Harry’s in-country support. Or maybe Louis had fallen into a routine. I have no idea, and I don’t even rally care. I’m not judging where Louis or Harry actually were.

What I am judging is this fandom and the fact that I haven’t seen people trying to prove that Harry was lying about being in Jamaica. I haven’t seen people trying to prove that Harry was in the UK supporting Louis during any of that time.

I would love for someone to tell me why the fuck it’s a sexy head canon that Louis “supported” Harry in Jamaica, but there is no sexy head canon about Harry supporting Louis while Jay was sick?

Is it because we talk about sex on the beach, but not sitting in silence behind a curtain, listening to someone’s lungs rise and fall with the help of a tube shoved down their throat? Is it because getting drunk and high and writing fake-deep lyrics is a better way to spend a late night than dreading a phone call and wondering if you’re going to need your partner to drive you to the hospital in the middle of the night in an emergency?

I often say I don’t know anything and I try not to make declarative statements, but fuck that right now. Let’s be clear: If there was someone in that couple who needed “support” while Harry was–we are supposed to believe–getting drunk in drag with a whole support crew of people in Jamaica, it was not Harry.

And the fact that the fandom created and reblogged posts implying otherwise is massively fucked up.

anonymous asked:

Well.... Idk what to say. But I'm conflicted because some people think it's a good lesson to teach the kids but according to you it's .... misunderstood a bit? And redeeming Jasper would be a 180 Because she's loyal to Homeworld.

(follow up to the previous anon ask about jasper)

Don’t forget, Peridot is still loyal to Homeworld. That’s the whole reason why she wants to protect the Earth. She explains this directly to Yellow Diamond in Message Received, but Yellow Diamond dismisses any talk of Earth’s value. Peridot is completely correct to question Yellow Diamond’s objectivity when it comes to the Earth, but there’s no sign that she’s given up on eventually persuading her.

I don’t expect Jasper to join the Crystal Gems (not after she fought the war), but I do expect that, like Peridot, she will find a reason to care about the Earth. As with Lapis, though, this will require confronting a lot of pre-existing negative feelings for the planet. I would not be surprised if Jasper learns to love the Earth when she learns to love herself—and that’s not going to be a “180”, it will just be “character development,” something the show has been pretty good about.

As far as the “save everyone” message, I don’t know what more I can say that I haven’t already said (unless there’s a more nuanced argument about it for me to respond to somewhere?) But I’m happy to repeat myself (as many times as it takes) on this one:

Keep reading

Two years after

Ship: Wolfstar
Warnings: none
Thanks a lot to @marvelousmckinnon for doing the beta!

For part 2 click here!


When Sirius left his safe so-called home in June 1996 he knew it was dangerous but he knew as well that this was the only way he would feel useful again. Sitting in that house he grew up in all day would have made him go mad sooner or later. He hated it there. Accompanying the others to the Ministry of Magic was the best thing he could have done. Even when Bellatrix’ spell hit him and he fell back into the veil he thought about how right his decision was. He would go. But Harry would live. And so would Remus. From far away he could hear Harry’s scream. Sirius wasn’t dead. Remus was right about that. But he was in a place he couldn’t come back from.

It was June 1998 when Sirius feet were standing on solid ground again. He didn’t know how he managed to get out nor did he remember what had happened in the place where he had stayed for two years. He didn’t even realise time had passed. It felt like it had only been a few seconds. Holding his wand tightly he looked around. Everything looked like it had back then, as if the battle just have ended and everyone had left. What had happened? Where was everyone?

Arriving at Grimmauld Place he found the house empty and dusty. Nobody was here and nobody had been here for a while. At least not lived here. He could see some traces of people who had been visiting this house. But hadn’t it looked different when he left? The Order had lived here. They had brought a warmth to that place that he never felt before. Now it was cold and dark again. Where was everyone? Where did they go after the battle in the Ministry? But sooner or later they would have to come back. They just had to. Where else would they go?

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Are you taking prompts at the moment? ^-^ bc I saw the prompts you reblogged and thought “You’re not pulling another all-nighter, not if I can do anything about it.” sounded cute, and I also saw you say you like thinking about Killua & Gon sleeping next to each other, and thought it might fit? only if you want to of course! and while I'm here, THANK YOU for sharing your writing, it's so so much fun to read and to follow you because I know my day will be saved whenever you post something new <3

I’m actually trying to hold off on doing requests at the moment bc I have three other projects I’m currently working on hahaaaaaaa ^^; But this was so cute and your message was so incredibly sweet, I just had to write it!!!

This takes place after two-ish years after the killugon separation, so they’re sixteen here! Alluka and Killua are visiting Whale Island (and Gon, of course) for a bit before going off to travel the world again!

I hope you like this! Thank you so much again for your kind comments~


BANG!

Killua jolted at the ear-blasting sound and dropped his DS, heart leaping up into his throat. 

“Killua,” came the familiar, stubborn tone from the open doorway. 

Gon, Killua’s mind sang out silently. 

He immediately stomped that inner voice down. He had thought being separated for nearly two years would’ve gotten rid of the way his insides twisted at the sight of his best friend.

Apparently, he was wrong.

“What, Gon?” Killua snapped as he snatched his DS of the soft sheets. “I said goodnight to you nearly half an hour ago. Who do you think you are, barging into my room like this?”

“Technically, it’s my room since it’s my house.”

“Technically-” Killua shot back, irritated, “- I’m the guest, so its my room. Not yours. Seriously, what do you want? Normally you’re asleep by now.”

Gon shut the door behind him before padding over to the bed. Killua could hear him approaching with the quiet tap-tap of his bare feet against the wooden floor. By the time Gon arrived at his bedside, Killua had pushed himself upwards into a sitting position.

They just looked at each other for a minute, not saying anything. Killua swept his eyes over Gon’s mess of hair, the crumpled green t-shirt and caramel eyes that seemed to glow even in the dark of night. 

He didn’t see anything wrong with Gon. But that didn’t mean anything. Killua had learned that the hard way.

“…Gon?” Killua asked lowly. “What’s-”

“Move over,” Gon said.

Killua blinked. “Um.”

But Gon was already pulling back the sheets and moving to sit down on the mattress. Killua scrambled away until his left arm hit the wall, gaping as Gon shimmied down under the covers.

There was a beat of silence. Then-

“Aren’t you gonna sleep, Killua?” Gon asked and Killua’s mind reeled.

What the hell was going on here?!

“Gon,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Mm?”

“What are you- no, why are you in my bed?!”

Gon peeked up at him. “Sleeping. You still do that, right?”

“Of course I do, stupid!” Killua spat. “Why do you have to do it in my bed, though?! You have a perfectly good bedroom of your own, you know!”

Gon frowned. “I’m doing this for you, Killua.”

…what.

“I’m not gonna let you pull another all-nighter,” Gon explained patiently, like Killua was some temper tantrum throwing two year old. “Not if I can do anything about it.”

“W-Who said I pulled an all-nighter?!” Killua stammered.

“No one. I could just tell. You kept staring off into the distance and spacing out all day. And you never do that.”

Killua’s mouth snapped shut. He could feel Gon’s heavy gaze on his face, even in the dimness of the room. It made his skin hot and itchy.

Killua looked away, ignoring the heat on his cheeks. “So what if I did?”

“Ki-llu-aaaaa,” Gon whined and Killua clenched his jaw hard enough to ache. “Why aren’t you sleeping? Is the room too hot? I’ll tell Aunt Mito if that’s the case and we can open up the windows an hour before we go to bed.”

“No! No, that’s not…” Killua didn’t know what to say. The truth was too embarrassing, there was no way he could tell Gon.

A feather-light touch brushed against his wrist.

“Killua,” Gon said quietly as Killua sucked in a breath. “Tell me. Tell me and I’ll fix it.”

He shook his head. “It’s stupid.”

“No.” The calloused hand tightened around his pale fingers. “Its not. If its bothering you, its not stupid. I promise I won’t laugh. Please, just…tell me. I want you to be comfortable here.”

Gon didn’t say ‘with me’. But the implication was heavy and palpable as it hung in the air between them.

Killua squeezed his eyes shut, inwardly cursing. There was no way he could hold back after that.

“I, um. Its just, that- the thing is, ever since Heavens Arena…”

“Yeah?”

Killua swallowed. His hands were starting to sweat. He really hoped Gon wouldn’t notice. 

He inhaled deeply before starting again. “Ever since Heavens Arena, after you and me started sleeping in the same, uh, bed. I have a hard time…sleeping on my own. I normally sleep with Alluka when we’re in hotels.”

Gon didn’t say anything for a moment. He didn’t let go of Killua’s hand either, though. Killua wasn’t sure what to make of that, but apparently the rapid pounding of his heart could.

The stupid thing hadn’t calmed down since he’d ran into Gon’s open arms three days ago.

“Is that all?” Gon asked, voice cutting through the air, and Killua blinked.

“Um. Yes?”

“Oh,” Gon said. He didn’t sound angry, or upset, or even annoyed. If anything, the little sigh in his tone was relieved. “That’s great! I was scared it was something really bad.”

“I.” Killua was so confused. What was going on. Why was everything always so damn weird whenever Gon was around?! “I don’t get it.”

Gon beamed at him, those tan, freckled cheeks dimpling like they always did whenever Gon got ridiculously happy, and the air in Killua’s lungs disappeared. 

“I’ll stay with you,” Gon said simply. “Every night until you have to go again- we can share a bed, just like we used to when we traveled together! That should fix the problem, right?”

Killua let out a squawk as Gon suddenly yanked him down onto the pillow. Somewhere in the distance, he heard the DS clatter to the floor. 

But that didn’t matter. Because all he could see right now was the tiny flecks of gold in Gon’s eyes.

“G’night, Killua,” his best friend whispered and his breath ghosted over Killua’s cheeks.

Killua bit the inside of his cheek. He could still feel his blood racing through his veins. He’d just have to deal with it. There was no way Gon was leaving now.

“Night, Gon,” he murmured back. The last thing he saw before he shut his eyes was Gon’s tiny but completely genuine smile, like he wouldn’t be anywhere else but here, at Killua’s side.

It wasn’t until the next morning that Killua realized they’d fallen asleep holding hands.