i still don't get how they can't see it

If Jungkook was a hyung, I wonder how Bangtan would’ve fare. Thank lamb skewers things are the way they are now.

Scenarios:  01  02  03  04  05  06  07  -08  81395

bts: *arrive at an airport*

fans: *high pitched screaming,demonic yelling, shouting members’ names in a shrill voice to get their attention*

me: Please Do Not Do That

I hope I don’t regret choosing these hair and uniform colors in a few weeks.

[See in Full Resolution to appreciate the watercolor effect.]

anonymous asked:

Is it just me who can't help notice how glaringly obvious it becomes that Dan and Phil don't put their arms round each other for photos when they do put their arms round other people in photos? (If that makes sense) it's kinda awkward lol. I mean I guess I get why they don't touch in pics but to other non dnp fans it must seem strange

seeing dan with his head resting on caspar like that made me realize how completely uncomfortable DnP are with each other still and then i got sad

yes,,, i mean–hasnt this always been obvious? theyve always seemed to be quite tactile people. just watch their collabs with people theyre moderately close to (louise, tyler, pj, caspar, anthony, etc.) they seem to like hugging and touching and being generally soft and cuddly lmao but obviously their boundaries are different with each other. that’s been true pretty much always. but i don’t take it to be ‘strange’ or ‘awkward’ or a sign of their being ‘completely uncomfortable,’ at least not with each other. as far as we can tell, they seem to have certain baseline boundaries for their behaviors with each other because of a desire to maintain some control over how their relationship is perceived by the public and a calculated knowledge of how much of themselves they want to share with the world at large. so, to me, photos like that are not a sign of discomfort, they’re a reminder that certain things between them are just for them, not for us. hugs are theirs. head-resting-on-shoulder cuddles are theirs. holding each other is theirs. all of the things that are precious to them, the depth of their affection for each other–all of it is for them alone and not for anyone else to see or take part in. and i’d add that on balance, overall, this kind of control over their interactions in public (esp after so many years of maintaining it) likely feels second nature and is completely overshadowed by the rest of their time together. all we see is one or two fleeting seconds captured in a photograph like this. they have hours and hours, endless time really, between photographs and public outings, and all of that time is almost certainly filled with all of this affection that they actively choose to keep precious and closed off and far away from prying eyes. and it is a choice, ultimately. theyre in control of how they behave and they continue to choose this. so even though it might be frustrating from time to time for them (let alone outside viewers or fans, whose potential frustrations or curiosity matter exactly zero percent in this equation), i have no doubt that on the whole they keep making this choice every day, every single time theyre out and about, with thought and consideration and intentionality, because they continue to feel it’s what is best for them, because the benefits of it outweigh any frustrations they might feel, and because (let’s just be specific here) forgoing pda is a relatively minuscule sacrifice in the face of keeping their relationship and love for each other safe (and it’s a sacrifice that lots and lots and lots of queer people have to make in so many walks of life, even without the audience of millions that dan and phil have.) 

No Place Like Home💜

Dedicated to @marvelpotterlove 💜 Thank you for commissioning me and trusting me with your fic. This was a five part series, but I extended it. Basically broke the final chapter in half. Reader is a single real estate agent in Cali. There will be fluff and mild drama. Word Count: 2,338

•▪• ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ •▪• ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ •▪•

Part Five: Boiling Point

“Girl. I don’t understand how you’re related to those haters, but you’d better get out before they drag you down. They ugly, petty, got bad weave, and they evil, child! I’ll be damned if I see you come back with a fucked up closure or damaged leave out all because them city bumpkins can’t take!” Ang is right, the fam is toxic and annoying, and they keep trying you but as much as you complain you can’t just make yourself drop them.. they’re your family.

“They are complete messes, yes, but they’re still blood, Ang. Unfortunately, it’s thicker than water.”

“That’s not how the full phrase goes, it’s a dangerous misinterpretation,” Erik interjects. He’s been lying on the bottom bunk with you, chillin. “The actual phrase is ‘The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.’ You’re more tightly bound to the family you choose than the family you’re assigned at birth. So in essence… Cut them bitches off and level up.”

“Is that restaurant boy?! I wanna see him, I haven’t laid eyes on him yet. Let me facetime. Can he hear me?”

“No, he c-”

“Yes, I can hear you,” he cuts in again and you have to wonder now what else he’s heard. Probably a lot more than you care to think about or unpack. She FaceTimes and you angle the phone at Erik. He salutes with two fingers and her voice goes up what sounds like ten octaves.

“Ok! You are cuuuuteee!” Her grin is so wide showing all her perfect teeth. His answering smile is lazy and sweet, his lids floating shut with long lashes on display.

“Cute? Sis, I’m a grown ass man.”

“You right, Sir. You fine as hell. Damn. Y/N? Damn. I know you better, hmmm.. Girl!”

“She did,” Erik blurts causing your heart rate to spike. You smack him in the arm to shut him up. The screen angle changes and you’re suddenly staring at the seat cushion of Ang’s car. Her grinning face eventually comes back into view.

“BITCH! Are you two a thing now, or? Because this needs to happen. Here I am expecting you to look depressed and you’re there thriving. Look at you all boo’d up.”

“We’re not a thing. He was just helping me.. de-stress.”

“Righhht… His dick just happened to slip inside of you for therapeutic purposes,” Ang’s angular brow rose in faux judgement.

“Aight but tell her about the bachelorette party,” Erik interjected. Your deep sigh gave away the nature of the story.

“What they do,” Ang demanded to know, protective as ever.

Screams mingled with a loud masculine voice in the living room, “Get down! All of you! On the floor!” Instantly you and cousin Shaquel dropped to the floor behind the counter, silent and out of sight, listening. Your heart heaved in your chest. “Looks like you women were having a party,” a second man’s voice yells. “All you need is the.. Strippers!” In unison they yelled and the women’s fear turned into loud hoops and aggressive cheers.

“Damn.. I dropped my cheesestick,” Shaquel groaned kissing her teeth. You were just glad they were strippers and not robbers. Heading into the living room, you found a space in the audience and sipped on your third canned soda of the night. Jamila’s future in-laws were long gone. Mom and Aunt Iris were gone. That one was probably for the best. Looking at the strippers, only one was cute. The cute one was chocolate with small dark eyes are bow shaped lips. He was cut but still thick and a bit stocky. The way he danced, he was working hard for his coin. The other guy couldn’t really dance so much as grind and thrust, but the cute one was putting on a show. 'When We’ by Tank came on and he killed that dance like he was auditioning for the next Step Up movie. You took a few dollars from your pocket to throw out of respect. That man was working.

“I know you ain’t thirsting over a stripper when you got that delectable piece of ass you don’t near deserve. I’ll never understand that one,” Jamira said cutting her eyes. Why she was staring at you, you didn’t know. It was actually hilarious because here she was engaged and still flirting with your man in front of you. You were tempted to tell her about herself.

“Jamira, I’ve been real patient with you.. Don’t try me right now.”

“Or what? My nigga you mad 'cause I’m right. That nigga too cute for yo ugl'ass. Die mad.”

“Jamira? Turn around and enjoy your strippers,” you cautioned, “I’m over here minding my business.”

“If you wanted to watch the stripper, you’d watch the stripper, but you running ya mouth. Obviously you got some shit to say!” The party was shifting, the animosity growing. Jamira was drunk and starting to really speak her mind. A bridesmaid came to her side, rubbing her arm to calm her but she snatched away, clapping to emphasize her words. “Nah, this fatass bitch always wanna sit back and judge some shit like she somebody important and she ain’t, but she think cuz she got a little money or whatever she better than us.”

Whoah, never had you uttered those words and if you ever thought ill of them, it all stemmed from the way they treated you. You’d never dare to treat anyone the way these folks treated you and they called themselves your family? The disrespect was real. “I don’t know what gave you that impression, but I never disrespected any of you guys. That’s something unique to you, mom, and Aunt Iris.” Jamira couldn’t hear nor was she listening, she just kept yelling and it was obvious she was trying to find a way to hurt you with her words. It was what the family did best, lash out.

“She just a stuck-up, nappy-ass nobody trying to be special in Cali and I hope that pretty ass nigga runs right over through her ass because she ain’t shit and ain’t gone be shit.. and that’s what the fuck I got to say.” She collapsed into the sofa and commanded the attention to return to the strippers with an aggressive hand gesture. Immediately, the onlookers refocused on the dancers unwilling to piss off the bride-to-be.

Part of you said drop it and let her have it, but the part of you that had grown stronger and stronger since arriving back in New York told you to stand firm. You’d let Jamira, your mom, and your aunt 'have it’ way too many times over the years and honestly you were beyond fed up.

“If I’m stuck up, Jamira, I deserve to be. I work for everything I got and I do it well. This nappy ass hair? It’s healthy, it’s thick, it’s strong, and it’s long.” You flipped your pressed inches. “..Just like my man’s dick and no matter how many times you come onto him like a cheap prom date from Hell, you will never get it.”

“That’s what you think? Heh. Watch me. I’ll be sitting on his face before you leave town,” Jamira replied boldly. No one in the room knew what to do, but watch the spat. The strippers stopped moving, unsure of whether to continue.

“No. You watch yourself because the next time you say or do something trifling to me I’ll really embarrass you,” you pointed willing to take it there.

“Bitch, you can’t do a damn thing,” Jamira snapped jumping up. She stood inches away looking as if she was ready to swing and she was inching closer like she was about to.

“If you want to get married with a black eye, touch me. I beat your ass in high school I can do it again–”

“NO! ..No. We not doing this. Jamira, sit down! Y/N? Just leave, okay? Nothing against you, but leave,” Shaquel waved toward the door and without a glance backward, you exited stage left. You were still heated. Once outside, you had to call an uber. All this ubering made you wish you never came back to New York in the first place. It was pricey. After standing outside for fifteen minutes, a car finally came to take you back to the house.

“Why you back here, ain’t you supposed to be at the bachelor party,” India said letting you in. Obviously, you’d interrupted her slumber. She yawned loudly. Erik must’ve been upstairs in the room. “I got sleepy and decided to turn in early,” you lied. “Bullshit. I heard you was out causing problems,” she sighed accusingly. Instead of responding, you headed for the stairs.

“Don’t walk away from me in my house, get your ass back here and answer me,” India croaked. “Why you out here causing problems with my daughter like you ain’t got no damn sense?”

“Did you know your daughter tried to sleep with my boyfriend?” He may have been a fake boyfriend, but she didn’t know that!

“Hmph,” India scoffed with a slight smirk, “That’s what ya ass get for parading him. If ya’ll so tight, why you worried?”

“You know what mom? I let a lot of things go and I shut my mouth and maybe that’s why y'all think I’m some doormat, but I’m done holding my tongue..”

“Child please, save the dramatics for Cali. We’re all adults in this house. If you bold enough to say something, say it!”

“I’m not doing this tonight,” you sighed knowing a whole guilt trip was coming. “I’m going to bed.”

“You going to bed.. hmph. I carried you for nine months and then I carried you and your sister until you were eighteen, but you going to bed. Must feel good to be spoiled with all this damn freedom. Leaving whenever the hell you please. Hell, I wanted to sleep but you done woke my ass up knocking on my damn door! The sacrifices I made for this family, I did to keep us together and then your lil raggedy fast ass wanna run to California and rub elbows with the rich and famous like we ain’t shit. If anything you need to look inside yaself and get that straight. You’re ungrateful and you’re selfish. Your daddy was a selfish deadbeat and you turned out just like his ass, despite my teaching. I was your mother and your father.. and you just gone leave across the country? What about us?”

“I sent you guys money and I visited, but how often do you expect me to visit when every time I come all you do is tell me I’m ugly, I’m fat, I’m selfish, I’ll never get a man. Every time I come here you do anything you to try to break me down. Since I was fifteen! That’s all you’ve done! Of course I don’t wanna be around that!”

“You just can’t take criticism. You never could. Just like ya big-headed daddy. I hope to God you have a kid one day. I do. One who will ruin your damn life and expose to you just how selfish you are so you can see!”

“Goodnight,” you waved dismissively walking to the stairs. She kept talking as you ascended, but you tuned her out. Everything but the threat.

“Be at the wedding rehearsal tomorrow. Grown heifer. And I swear if you mess things up we’re gonna have a real problem.”

Without a response, you turned the corner spotting Erik. He was standing in the hall, listening. He stretched out his arms and you walked into them resting your head against his chest. You stayed like that for a while before the two of you went back to the room. You were so over this wedding, India, and Jamila.

“You finally snapped,” Erik said staring at you in awe. You’d wanted to do that for so long and you still didn’t say what you could’ve said, but as irritated as you were it felt good to talk back. It was obvious he was trying not to say too much, but it looked like he had lot to say.

“You should’ve heard me at the the bachelorette party,” you offered and his eyes begged for more information. You recounted the whole night from the time he left up to the point where you almost fought your sister at her own party.

“What would you say if we didn’t go to the wedding,” you asked trying to figure out your next move. Erik shrugged, leaving the decision in your hands. “I’ll do whatever you want. I’m here for you,” he stressed. Hm. You could go to the wedding like planned, suck it up and then disappear right back to Cali. You could pack up and leave the house right now to stay at a hotel. You could even go back downstairs to say how you really felt. The options were limitless. You decided to think on it longer. In fact, you’d sleep on it. Decide tomorrow.

“You need some head to clear your mind?” Erik smirked. He’d been watching you brainstorm. It was an interesting offer, an option you hadn’t considered. “Get some head, go to sleep, and whatever you choose to do in the morning, I’ll roll with it,” he suggested. It was a solid plan.

“Okay… but I need to work off some of this tension and negative energy so let me suck your dick instead.”

He jerked back slightly in surprise, “Who said we can’t do both? But I’m going first.”

“Who’s this supposed to be for, me or you,” you teased feeling lighter already. There was something about his energy that could lift a person out of any cloud of negativity. It was like he’d been through so much personally, he could relate to anything. His presence was a miracle and a blessing.

“So I interrupted y'alls little sinfest,” Ang smiled. Throughout the story her expression had changed more times than Kanye’s allegiance. She was on an emotional rollercoaster and you knew she was right there with you in all that you were saying. “Don’t go,” she said firmly. “Leave those chickenheads where they are and check into a hotel. I will finance it myself, just leave.” She was so serious. She never liked the fam, especially Jamira. The white couch incident was still clear in her mind.

“I’m going to sleep and then I’m going to make a decision tomorrow. I’ll keep you updated.”

“Alrighty. Well you two kids have fun and 'de-stress’,” Ang said with air quotes. She couldn’t stop smiling, though it was slight, you knew your friend and from the bottom of her heart she believed you and Erik were together or about to become an item. To be honest, it would be nice. He presence alone did so much for your mood and he was so wise and considerate. You needed him around in your daily life to keep you emotionally and mentally stable. After signing off with Ang, you curled up with Erik behind you on the lower bunk and went to sleep.

@hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @simplyyamberr @whoramilaje @bitemyxxx @bonita-juanita @eriknutinthispoosy @blackpinup22 @thadelightfulone @yaachtynoboat711 @youreadthatright @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @bidibidibombaclaat @priya212 @romanceoftheeveryday @muse-of-mbaku @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @kreolemami @myboyfriendgiriboy @loosewindmill @wakanda-inspired @madbadsiren @theunsweetenedtruth @panthergoddessbast @allhailnjadaka @amethyst1993 @ange-sensuel @thehomierobbstark @purplehairgawdess @supersizemeplz @blackpantherismyish @drsunshine97 @thiccdaddy-mbaku @wawakanda-btch @killmongersmisstress @imaginewhoever @nemesispawn @niggarachi15 @hidden-treasures21 @pupyluv247 @phoenixxx1225 @violet-ines @indigoxsummers @janelledarling @imasmille  @sweetsexysavagery @mermaidchansons @destinio1 @ash-moneyy @ljstraightnochaser @forbeautyandlife @iamrheaspeaks @elle-luring @yoyolovesbucky @ilovebubblesz @awkardlyabstract @beautifulqueenflaws @slimmiyagi @sidneebleu

anonymous asked:

I know you said you're too busy for more right now but I would LOVE to see a how to ride a bee and can't resist suggesting it. As a beekeeper it's a daydream I've definitely had before. Obvs, if you don't get to it nbd - good luck on your paid work!

This one’s actually a bit tricky! The immediate thought would be to put the rider between the wings for the best balance, but you wouldn’t be able to strap a tight saddle to the thorax of a winged insect and still fly. This is because bees and most winged insects actually flap their wings by distending their thorax (indirect flight mechanism), rather than moving the wings by a direct muscle like birds and mammals. For reference, a diagram of bee flight muscles, and slow mo video of a dragonfly’s back as it flaps its wings (dragonflies do use direct flight mechanism, but you can still see how mobile the thorax of a winged insect is).

The best solution, I think, is to put the rider on the abdomen… bees hold their back pretty straight as they fly so it shouldn’t be too much of a visibility issue. The reins go on the antennae, of course.

  • What she says: I'm fine.
  • What she means: Seriously, why couldn't Lin Manuel Miranda have at least made "Satisfied" a duet? I love him, but honestly, it's not that hard. Drawing from what insight we have into the life of Angelica Schuyler, it was very clever to base the musical's romantic subplot off of that, but really? I mean, it just feels like Laurens got so snubbed. LGBTQIA allyship and the importance of recognizing queer history aside, it really comes down to one thing: telling the truth or telling the truth. After a certain point, it's ridiculous to act like there's still "debate" and "uncertainty" over whether or not Laurens and Hamilton were involved in a romantic/sexual relationship and to downplay their interactions into "homoerotic subtext" and a "did they or didn't they" situation. The way certain historians are going that could be reasonably applied to every assumed cis male/assumed cis female relationship and presumed heterosexual romance in history. Did Cleopatra and Mark Antony fall in love with each other? Guess we'll never know because we don't have concrete evidence of every time they touched. When is it ever going to be enough? Love literally stares these writers and historians right in the face and they still brush it off as "the sensibility of the time" and make some idiotic mumbo-jumbo excuse about the punishments for sodomy in the 18th-century. It's time to get rid of the double standard for queer people in history, even some of the internalized bias within ourselves.
  • I enjoy the ingenuity and quality soundtrack of Hamilton almost to an unhealthy extent, but I don't think I'm ever going to be able to get over its blatant erasure and "closeting" of Alexander Hamilton's bisexuality. Like, literally, Lin drops one line of "Laurens, I like you a lot" and something about Laurens x Hamilton being close friends? Yes, he supported the ship and retweeted Lams fanart and confirmed the subtext between the two, but I still can't get over it. And I shouldn't feel like I have to. I admire "The Laurens Interlude" because I've forced myself to see the upside of its problematic ambiguity and how it's already sent a lot of fans to do their research surrounding the relationship, but besides that, the musical basically just brushes it aside. Do I feel like I'm overreacting a bit? Yes, I mean, I haven't exactly seen the show and there could be a lot that I'm missing. Including whether the actors want to play body language and deliver certain lines in a way that leans toward the Lams friendly interpretation. But the researched and concluded sexuality of a historical figure and the representation of an already marginalized group shouldn't be subject to an interpretation or a fan theory. It should be hard text.
  • But of all these tiny aggressions in Hamilton, the worst of them might be "A Winter's Ball." This song literally HAD chances. "If you can marry a sister, you're rich, son?" Yes, that's it right there. Why, why, why, Lin, couldn't you say anything about the letters? You're cutting out part of the narrative right there. If I'm not mistaken (haven't actually seen the stage show), the rest of the short song doesn't do the best job of portraying Laurens either. He was reliable with the ladies? Not really. When I first got into Hamilton I saw a meme with Antony Ramos's distracted face captioned "when you know you're not reliable with the ladies." It was a funny and spot-on meme, but in all, when is queerness going to stop being a joke and more of a reality to face and explore in film and Broadway? The Hays Code is done. I'm no director, but isn't it mostly just prejudice we have to deal with now? What's stopping you from writing queer characters? It wouldn't be without backlash to depict a bisexual founding father, but people will just have to get over it. It's the truth. What do you want me to say?
  • In conclusion, so many wonderful things could have been done with the Hamilton-Laurens relationship in the script and on stage, but it just all feels like a thrown away shot, another missed opportunity for desperately needed LGBTQIA representation in theater. I love how the storyline between Eliza Schuyler and Hamilton is done. It's more than I could ever ask for with them, but wouldn't it have provided a much more rich and truthful experience to show the man's other relationships? Another profound revelation at the show's close, "Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story?" about the way certain points of a person's life get taken out of the narrative just because they were too scandalous or uncomfortable for the time period (like JCH burning the letters?). Lin Manuel Miranda is such a wonderful writer and creator I would trust his story writing skills with my life, but I think he needed to try harder with that.

Why does it feel like I see “she would be bi/pan not a lesbian!” used constantly on Yang but never on Weiss, the one who has actually showed interest in a specific guy (and for more than just one throwaway gag in an early episode)?

getting real PUMPED for she-ra! I kinda,,, uh gave glimmer a sword bc i thought she had one, but later realized it was actually adora’s sword that she was holding in that one preview picture.. so i had to change the design a bit but it still looks really similar doesn’t it,,

irleughlivelyatalanteangodfan  asked:

Hello. Hello. Can you help me? They say you know everything here, that you are Archivist -when did we get one- that you can help me. I don't know. I waited on tracks, after They killed-tore-unmade me, but train won't let me on. Conductors don't want to accept me, and over there Beyond they don't want to have me judged. I can't forget H̷̪̻̜̪̘̼͕͙ͮ̿ͧ͐͑ͦͮ̎ͥͪ͊̒̋̍͌̔ͬ̌͆́͝͡Ẽ̢͙̘͈̞̼̑̂̃̈͆͆̈͗͌̋̑̐̌͟͠R̴̿́͛͑̍̅̈́̌ͦ̍͐̅́̚̕҉̛̝̱̖̜̞͉̰͟, you see. I still dream about H̷̪̻̜̪̘̼͕͙ͮ̿ͧ͐͑ͦͮ̎ͥͪ͊̒̋̍͌̔ͬ̌͆́͝͡Ẽ̑̂̃̈͆͆R 1/2

as .S̸̞̹̜̥̥͈̪͌̒͒̿̽͢͜͞ͅH̸̛̺̥̬̹̬̞͗̄́͛̃̓E̢̞̣͇̙̖̜̘͆̾̃̔̿͌͡.. dreams us. Sometimes ..S̸̞̹̜̥̥͈̪͌̒͒̿̽͢͜͞ͅH̸̛̺̥̬̹̬̞͗̄́͛̃̓E̢̞̣͇̙̖̜̘͆̾̃̔̿͌͡.. is woman of light holding sword in glass coffin beneath sea, sometimes dark wings waving in void, sometimes colored wheels frozen beyond flame. S̸̞̹̜̥̥͈̪͌̒͒̿̽͢͜͞ͅH̸̛̺̥̬̹̬̞͗̄́͛̃̓E̢̞̣͇̙̖̜̘͆̾̃̔̿͌͡.. looks so lonely. How does it feel, to dream it all and never experience anything? And why do they call H̩̲͓̫̓̋͗̎̉̆̾͛͟Ẹ̛̱̦̜͕̾̽̆̋͋̀̏͞͠R̛͕̻̣̺̪̭̂̐̀͌̓͒͠. 2/? 

..T̸̛͚̪̣̺͙̘͖̥̄̏̊̅̄͘͡H̡̛͈̥͙̯̰̠̼̏̀͂̃̄͢ͅḚ̷͖̰̳͓̻̾͆̏͆̂͒̏͟͡͞͠ Q̸̨̺͍̹̣̐͊͑̉͘͞Ǔ̢̢̡͓͓̪͚̙̔̽̓̈́̕͘͢E̷̪͓͍̲̣̞̥̋̏͌̉͘͠É̴̜̞̦̭̾̑͑̔̓̎̋̕͡ͅN̡̢̠̗͈͌̒̈̆͆ͅ. Perhaps ..Ş̪̹̖̈́̽̈́͌̐̿͐͡ͅH̸̱̺̥̝̘͈͐͗̀͛͛̅̉̊͘̚͢E̷̞̪̘̯̾̀̑̐͂̂̊̔̕͠ͅ.. wants to be something else, like P̷̉̎̿̑ͮͯͬ̈́͒̂͋̂͡͏̗͙̰̪͇̬̭̘̜͓͘r̛̲̗̘͇̖̼̪̜̙̪̦ͤͫ̈́̍ͬͫ̊͂͊̅ͥͮ̒͆̆̽ͩ̚͞͡͡ͅe͎͎͉̠̱͈̱̪̺͌ͪ̅ͦ͛ͧ̆ͯͮ̕͝s̃ͧ̾̄̔ͨ͂́ͫͮ̽ͪ͆ͯ͢͏̧̱̪̪̦̰͉͍̣̝̭͉į̶̱̼̦̦͈̳̺̼͌ͦ̽͒̐̃͆̽̓ͯ̃ḑ̱̗̪̳̩̺̦͇̫̓̇͐͂̃͠͠ē̵̯̳͔͖͉͍͈͍̩̜̯̭͇̬̣̟̟̬ͮ͌̏ͬ̚͜ͅņ̶̠͕̙͉̖̳͎̯̥̲͓̼̮̺̼ͭ̅͊ͩ̊͆ͧ̓̂͌́͟t̴̨̢̥͔̺̫̭͚͖͎̟̤͓͉͔̱͙̦͕͖̹̎ͬͦ̃͐̈́̿ͨ́̓͊̊̌̍̂̑ͭ̈́̀̚ ? Why didnt 3/?        

They-we-anybody ask? And how is it fair that we are all here on price of ..S̵̢̝̤̻̭͇̑́̄̑̃̕͠O̶͓̫̭̩̺̽̌̈́̉̌̀̋̇͟M̨̢̭̣͚̜̪̫͍̱̍̃̃̇̎͝͠E̴̟̯̻̤̦̟̾̽́́͗T͕͙͖͉̹̮̝͎̬̲̒̍̈́͑̀͞Ĥ̜̦̲̭̫͑͑́͊̌̿͒̏͆͢I̸̧̗̯̣͈͂͆͒́̅́̈́͊͛̚Ṅ̡̢̲̙̺̦͔̗̍͋͊͐͢͝͠G̶̩͇͓͙͙̺̖̜̳͚͛̐͊̓̂͂̆̓͞..else? Dreams are nice but isn’t  living better. So what if we will all be gone then?…. I think I want to wake ..H̴̡̧̺̗̫̦̟̟͌̉̅͒͡Ë̡̼̬̻͍̬̤̪́̍̉͂̈̋̾̚R̶̟͚̺̞̖̦̩̮̎͐͋̽͋͊̐͋͝.. up. Advice? Help? Thanks. To try or to wait for train to come? 4/4  

Advice: don’t. Please, please, please.                        

Thinking about Amazon’s coming pre-LotR series has got me thinking again about the Silmarillion being adapted and all the whys I really don’t want it to happen. We don’t know what exactly Amazon’s planning to do, what stories, and I know this isn’t going to be the Silm, thank goodness, but even thinking about this door being opened just drove home the points again. 

Like, you know whatever gutting of the canon they’re going to do is going to bleed into the fandom. But that aside, one of the biggest things for me is the casting. Know that I’m talking about Elves here more than anything. Martin Freeman is my Bilbo, I see Sean Astin’s face when I think of Sam, John’s with Gimli’s, you get the picture. But Elves are so incredibly hard to cast. That’s not to dispute all casting choices (some are excellent, as my praise of Lee Pace goes to show), but it’s like I can already feel the preemptive disappointment at having to say goodbye to the huge amount of originality when it comes to designing these characters, in art and fic. I’m sorry, but I don’t want to see one specific human face for Maedhros, for Feanor, for the Valar, for Aredhel, (especially) for Glorfindel, or Celebrimbor or Annatar or Cirdan now plastered to every fanart. Like now, more often that not, to give an example, it’s always Liv Tyler as Arwen, Cate Blanchett as Galadriel…there’s a reason you rarely see anything of them compared to others from me, because most of the edits/fanart coming across my dash are of those women as them and just…no.

This isn’t a censoring post. Please don’t take it as that. As a creator myself, I don’t do that, I don’t believe in that, and I don’t condone it. But it just saddens me that the level of originality decreases so dramatically when someone is officially cast. As much as I absolutely love and approve of Lee Pace as Thranduil, you don’t see nearly as many original concepts compared to before the Hobbit. Same with Legolas. 

Can you imagine that happening to someone like Maedhros? It’s so fun seeing the various fanart of him, the different ways the scars are placed, just how tall he is, does he have long or short hair after Angband, the type of look in his eyes…Or how about Melkor or the rest of the Valar? Can you imagine these gods being officially cast? How about Mairon? How about Luthien or Glorfindel, both so beautiful and both whose hair would cost a movie budget of their own? Maglor and his voice? So many of these characters are the recipients of the most broadly creative interpretations, their designs and concepts driven by a thought-provoking narrative where you can tell the artist is thinking so much about their story. And to see that decrease just because we would “officially” have a face to the name….

Don’t get me wrong, there would definitely be some perks to seeing the Silm on screen. The scenery, the Two Trees, the epic battles, the music…though if Ancalagon in all his glory isn’t depicted as so great that he could flick Smaug away while taking a nap, I’ll burn down the house.

I’m talking as if the Silm is in its pre-production stage, but I’m just still glad that it’s not, just because of casting alone. 

night of TLJ premiere (a retrospective)
  • Kylo and Rey: *stare at each other across the universe*
  • me: is that... are they... IS FORCE BOND CANON NOW
  • later Kylo and Rey: *touch fingers*
  • even later Kylo and Rey: *killing for each other and fighting all the guards*
  • me: *poking husband* I'VE READ THIS FIC DO YOU SEE THIS
  • latest Kylo and Rey: *worst marriage proposal ever*
  • the husband: oh my god, don't cry, people are staring
My Take on the DeValier Issue

Look, so, I know that no one really asked for my opinion on this, but I’m going to say it anyway. 

I will admit, that even though I dislike his style and characterization, I am a bit jealous of George DeValier. I’m jealous because he’s been on permanent hiatus for years now, and was when I joined the fandom in the sixth grade, yet he still gets more attention than what my multi-chapter gets after I work on it for months.

And I guarantee you that DeValier worked just as hard as I do on his works, and I can’t- and won’t- force anyone to read my stuff. And reading @basement-prussia and @lluviadinoche s’ posts made me realize that, yeah, I am a bit angry about the fact that he’s idolized, but that isn’t the point.

The point is, we can’t deny the fact that DeValier brought a shit-ton of activity to the fandom. I’m not saying that anyone has said that he hasn’t, I just haven’t seen it mentioned yet. Scroll down through his tag, and you’ll see so much art and edits based off of his work. Even now, I’m seeing fanfiction where the author says that the fic was inspired by his work. And that’s great! 

Hell, it took me three tries to get through the first quarter of the fic, but even that had me thinking, “Hey! I could totally do this!” 

So, yeah. Am I over the fact that his work has cast a big shadow over other writers in the fandom? Absolutely. Do I cringe whenever I see one of those “when will DeValier return from the war” memes (y’all have fun, it’s just not for me)? Yes. But this guy has contributed a lot to the fandom, mostly unintentionally, and is still contributing to this day, so I think that we should be at least a little grateful for that. 

anonymous asked:

Tbh I still love Sherlock. It's still the most important thing in my life. It's still the show that saved me when I didn't know how to cope. It helped me to understand my own sexuality and I can't really see myself letting it go.I'm still part of the TJLC fandom and I can think about season 4 and laugh about it. But I'm bitter. I feel like a fool, I don't understand why things are like this. Why is the writing so embarassing?They owe us some explanation but we'll never get it. I'll keep believin

Hi Nonny!

*HUGS* To be honest, Sherlock and its fandom saved me as well, and I love it to pieces. As I’ve stated before, like you it’s helped me discover myself, and I just will forever love this show because of it. And there are some aspects of S4 that I think are phenomenal, so it’s not a complete embarrassment. 

But the writing, what the hell happened? This show, in past seasons, was a critical darling in the media; they loved it, but even they are aware of the flaws of S4 and they only pay attention on the surface level of the story, so that says a lot about the fuckery of it. It’s okay to feel bitter about it, I can understand completely. Sadly I don’t think we will ever get an explanation for what we received, but that seems to be the norm for us as of late (that or bullshit excuses). But as I’ve said numerous times, Mofftiss can’t take the fandom from any of us; it’s still a wonderful place of amazing people who continue to make this show the story it should have been. I too will keep believing; for me that entails that one day the true story WILL be told about John and Sherlock, and someone will finally be the first to do it. I am sad that this series wasn’t that show, but I think it will happen in our lifetime.

They Don’t Know About Us

This is specifically for my beautiful Latina queens because I write for you too!! Every imagine is for you too!! I write for ALL. Please enjoy!! ❤️

It’s been a very long day. You washed your clothes, cleaned the entire house, ran to the bank as well as went grocery shopping. You were happy that you finally had some time to just sit down relax and just take a break from life. You laid in Harry’s strong arms, your fingers tracing over his tattoos. He always loved when you made this gesture, any gesture really. Your touch soothed him undeniably. You two were laying on the cushioned couch watching some stupid horror movie Harry begged you to watch with him. Though you were watching a scary movie, you kept a smile on your face, chuckling from time to time as Harry constantly jumped at all of the jump scares. He ran his large pale hand through your hair. “How are you not scared?”, he whispered as if his life depended on it and if he spoke too loudly, the killer would get him.

“It’s just not scary”, you shrugged.

Harry shook his head at your bold statement. “You’re as tough as nails”, he laughed, rising from the couch before looking back at you. “Can you pause the movie really quick? Just have to use the restroom.”

You nodded and watched as he walked off. You grabbed the remote, pausing the TV and clutched your phone, flipping through your Instagram as you waited for Harry. You saw you had many notifications and you rolled your eyes, you always hated checking them, but you did anyway. There seemed to be many likes and comments on the latest picture you posted with Harry.

She’s pretty!

She’s cute, Harry’s lucky!

Ew, she’s ugly

Harry was better off with Kendall or Taylor

Why a Latina?

You frowned as you continued reading many comments under your picture. Slut. Whore. Bitch. Harry always told you that people were going to hate and that you needed to be strong and ignored it, but it seemed impossible to. You loved Harry, without a doubt, but sometimes you felt that maybe you weren’t good enough for him. That maybe he really was better off with some famous model. You turned your phone off, placing it onto the brown coffee table in front of you with a thud to the surface. You don’t deserve Harry and you knew this. You couldn’t go on like this, acting as if you do.

Harry waltzed back into the room with a big grin. “I’m getting kinda hungry. Are you? I can order a pizza maybe?”

You stayed quiet, your eyes staring at the carpet Harry was running his feet along. “Do you think we’ll last?”, you quietly asked.

You didn’t think Harry heard you and truthfully you were hoping he didn’t, but by the way his features became saddened ones, you knew he did. He stepped closer to you, with arms lazily out as if waiting for you to crawl into them. “Why would you ask me that? What type of question is that? Of course I think we’ll last. I’m hoping we do at least”, he pouted. “Do you not feel this way?”

“Harry”, you started, tugging on the bracelet that slid down your arm. “Maybe it’s not a good idea that we’re together…”, you hated saying this, but you felt you needed to end things with him. The hate was nonstop and getting to you and for all you knew he could have possibly been gaining hate as well. “We can be friends, but-”

“Woah woah woah, where is this even coming from? Thirty minutes ago you were just clinging to my arms, telling me how much you loved being with me and now you’re suddenly opposing to that?”, he questioned sternly. You could hear the anger in his tone and practically see it in his eyes too. “What is even making you say this nonsense?”

You stared at your painted fingernails and shrugged. “Just…I’ve still been getting hate, Harry. I thought the hate would go away and it won’t. I just thought that maybe they were right about us-”

“But they don’t know about us. They don’t know anything about our relationship and how much you mean to me and you can’t let their filthy words define us. I’ve been having the time of my life being with you, please don’t let some rubbish people get in the way of that”, Harry begged, grasping your small hand in his and starting to sway them side to side. You couldn’t help but smile at the gesture, taking a few steps into his arms, resting your head on the dip of his shoulder. “I promise you, I’ll take care of the rude fans. Besides, no one messes with my…what does Cardi B say?….spicy mami?”

You laughed into his arms with a gasp. “You did not just say that”, you hoped with a mental facepalm.

Sometimes you wished this boy wasn’t so lovable and playful so that you could actually grieve when you needed to, but you were happy he was and who would want to change that? After all, he replaced the frown on your face to a bright beaming smile and you loved the fact that only he could do that.

“What were they saying anyway?”, Harry asked, arms wrapped around your figure.

You shrugged. “That I’m ugly, that you would’ve been better off with Kendall or Taylor. Apparently because I’m Latina.”

You felt his arms tighten around and a sigh slip from his lips. “Well, you are far from ugly, mi amor. And you being Latina doesn’t mean anything. As if that was going to stop me”, Harry scoffed.

You smiled into his sweet embrace. “Te amo.”

Harry stood in thought for a moment before speaking. “Yo también te quiero.”

You looked up at him with a twinkling smile. “You’ve been working on your spanish I see.”

He looked down at you with a grin, placing his lips to yours in an instant before resting his head against yours. “Just for you.”

This was crap, but was requested so I hope you enjoy!


ahaha wait, what the heck…? how does UNDYNE know anything about all that…?

i think alphys more than anyone would be very understanding of when someone makes a mistake or keeps a secret. but just what kind of mistakes were happening when they were all underground…?

this is another page that was originally 2 pages of 3 and 4 panels respectively, then combined into 1. so it’s technically like getting two pages! i guess. sorry if it’s one-page updates for awhile. it’s a busy time of year!

Keep reading

my least favorite thing about tgd is how zeke will support mylene through anything and is such an avid supporter of her music and career but then mylene completely disses zeke’s and the get down bros’ music, calls it garbage, drags it through the mud and thinks she’s so above it that she just can’t even support her boyfriend’s passionfor a hot second

Hello Furby community!!

I was drawn to how positive and friendly the furby fandom here on tumblr is, so I made this sideblog! (yet another sideblog…sigh, I know). I probably won’t be super active on here, but this is where I’ll post about and reblog furby stuff now!

I’m a newbie (like, really new…I don’t know much at all yet), and I just recently acquired my first furby at a local antique shop after scouring all the thrift stores in my area for one!

So, this is my first special boy, who I’ve named Sbubby:

He’s a little grungy and is missing an eyelash, but that just means he was well loved. I can’t wait to clean him up and get him looking all spiffy!

He’s still got his original tag, and after cleaning out the battery compartment (and the old crusty batteries…eww), he works! Unfortunately, most of the time, all he wants to do is go to sleep, no matter how many times I wake him up, but that’s ok. He’s just a nap-loving boy.

I’ll make another post for him once I refurbish him. All in all, I don’t know if furbys are just gonna be a passing interest for me or not, but we’ll see how long I decide to keep this blog for…