if i can't have it i want someone i love to get it

Stuff My Mom Has Told Me During Hamilton (Act 2)
  • What'd I Miss: "Where'd his accent go?"
  • "That's Thomas Jefferson mom."
  • "No that's Lafayette."
  • "Same actor. Different character."
  • Cabinet Battle #1: "Why can't the debates be like this?"
  • Take A Break: "....where the fuck is Peggy?!"
  • Say No To This: "That God damn note what in the shit?!"
  • The Room Where It Happens: "So is Burr like, the person who tries too hard to be cool? Also there was three so what does he mean he arranged the seating?"
  • Schuyler Defeated: "Why do half these songs start the same?"
  • Cabinet Battle #2: "Fourth wall break!"
  • "What?"
  • "They mentioned Lafeyette! Fourth wall break!"
  • "Mom, same actor, different character. Lafayette and Thomas knew each other."
  • "Not important."
  • Washington On Your Side: "I've never been so ready to drop kick someone."
  • *Casually scoots away*
  • One Last Time: "Alex has such daddy issues..."
  • I Know Him: "I had actually forgotten about the King..."
  • "How?"
  • "I don't know! I thought he died!"
  • The Adams Administration: "This song is so short."
  • "It's not the full bit."
  • "What?"
  • *plays full one*
  • "Alex has a lot of anger issues."
  • We Know: "Wait - why do Jefferson and Alex hate each other so much? Is that sexual tension?"
  • "Mom..."
  • Hurricane: "You know I was in a hurricane once..."
  • The Reynolds Pamphlet: "Wait why do the three sound shocked? They already knew! They read it as if they hadn't!"
  • Burn: "Hello tears I forgot about you..."
  • Blow Us All Away: "I forgot they had kids...wait wasn't he just nine?"
  • Stay Alive (Reprise): "My God...you ever try and take a gun to fight someone and I may just kill you."
  • "That is /not/ the point of this song."
  • It's Quiet Uptown: *she just refuses to stop hugging me*
  • "Mom...please..."
  • "Shhh let me show my love..."
  • "Mom your tears are in my hair!"
  • The Election Of 1800: "What the shit?! Stop having depressing songs then a fun one!"
  • "Please let go of me..."
  • Your Obedient Servant: "This is so passive aggressive..."
  • Best Of Wives And Best Of Women: "This sounds so cute but...it's so sad?"
  • "Have you learned nothing throughout this?"
  • "...I want to hate it. I can't."
  • The World Was Wide Enough: "He...does know when people get older they need glasses right? Glasses don't mean murder. Otherwise you and your four eyes would be killing every day!"
  • Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story: "That's Washington! I recognize that voice! It's so deep and sexy!"
  • "Mom this is an emotional song."
  • "I know! That voice deserves more action!"
  • "Mom..."

In case ya’ll don’t already know, I feel obligated to tell you that Anya has to literally stand on a box to effectively kiss Dmitry in the Anastasia Broadway musical and it’s honestly too adorable for words.

  • what she says: I'm okay
  • what she means: Can I say my shit? Can I say my shit? I've got lots of shit to say. I've got lots of shit to say. I can't fit my hand inside a Pringle can, I have a huge amount of trouble fitting my hand inside of a Pringle can. I can get my hand like four inches into the can but then I have to tilt the can into my mouth but then a bunch of crumbs have accumulated at the bottom of the can so they all go spilling onto my face. What I'm trying to say is the diameter of Pringle cans is way too small. I'll say it again. The diameter of Pringle cans is way too small. Two radiuses of a Pringle can is way too small. If you feel me, put your hands up, Come on! If you feel me, put your hands up! Look at all these hands that are way too big to fit inside of a Pringle can! Your hands are too big to fit inside a Pringle can, your hands are too big to fit inside a Pringle can. You think you can, I know you can't, you think you can. Pringles! Listen to the people, I am sure ninety percent of the complaint letters you get are about the width of your cans?! Just... make them wider?! I've overdone the Pringles thing, sorry. I want to have a daughter. I want to have a daughter so I can finally have someone around the house who can fit their hands in the Pringle can. Yes, I'm still on the Pringle cans thing! Yeah! I'll move on, alright? But that is priority número uno. I don't go to the gym because I'm self-conscious about my body but I'm self-conscious about my body cause I don't go to the gym. Irony can be so painful. That's a Catch-22. Let's do this! I went to Chipotle, I went to Chipotle, got myself a chicken burrito. I went down the line and I got all these ingredients and at the end of the line the guy tried to wrap the burrito but half of the shit inside the burrito spilled out. He still wrapped it. I was like, dude you should have warned me! You're a burrito expert, you should have told me halfway through: "Hey, man. You might be reaching maximum burrito capacity here" Do you fucking think I want a messy burrito? No one wants a messy burrito! The whole appeal of the burrito is that all of the ingredients are contained within the confines of the tortilla. I wouldn't have gotten half of the shit if I knew it wasn't gonna fit in the burrito! Alright? Look I wouldn't have got the lettuce if I knew it wouldn't fit! I wouldn't have got the cheese if I knew it wouldn't fit! I wouldn't have got the peppers if I knew it wouldn't fit! I wouldn't have got half of it! Like, I'm okay with small mistakes, if you've got no more chicken I'll take pork. But I'll blow my dad before I eat a burrito with a fork. I wouldn't have got the lettuce if I knew it wouldn't fit, I wouldn't have got the cheese if I knew it wouldn't fit, I wouldn't have got the peppers if I knew they wouldn't fit. Man, I wouldn't have got half of it, like half of it, like, half of it, like, half of it, like half of it right now,I think it's time I think it's time, I think that we break this down. I can sit here and pretend like my biggest problems are pringle cans, and burritos. The truth is, my biggest problem's you. I want to please you but I want to stay true to myself. I want to give you the night out that you deserve but I want to say what I think and not care what you think about it. Part of me loves you, part of me hates you, part of me needs you, part of me fears you. And I don't think that I can handle this right now, handle this right now. I don't think that I can handle this right now. I don't think that I can handle this right now, I don't think that I can handle this right now, I don't think that I can handle this right now. Look at them, they're just staring at me like, "come and watch the skinny kid with a steadily declining mental health and laugh as he attempts to give you what he cannot give himself." I don't think that I can handle this right now, I don't think that I can handle this right now. They don't even know the half of this right now, they don't even know the half of it. But I know I'm not a doctor, I'm a pussy, I put on a silly show so I should probably just shut up and do my job so here I go. I wouldn't have got the lettuce if I knew it wouldn't fit, I wouldn't have got the cheese if I knew it wouldn't fit, I wouldn't have got the peppers if I knew they wouldn't fit, I wouldn't have got half. You can tell them anything if you just make it funny, make it rhyme and if they still don't understand you then you run it one more time. I don't think that I can handle this right now (Haa!) I don't think that I can handle this right now (Hoo!) If you think that I can handle this right now (Haa!) Right now (Haa!) Now, handle this right, handle this right, handle this right now.Thank you, good night! I hope you're happy.
First-Meeting Sentence Starters
  • Several different scenarios that can be combined or modified for your pleasure:
  • "Uh, hi there."
  • "I was here first. Go to the back of the line!"
  • "Excuse me, is there any way you could let me go before you? I'm in a hurry."
  • "Service here is TERRIBLE today!"
  • "Is this seat taken?"
  • "Do you have a moment to talk?"
  • "Hi, listen, there's someone following me, and I'm paranoid so can you talk to me for a few minutes to make it look like I'm not alone?"
  • "Here, take this and run with me. I'll explain later!"
  • "Do you have some cash? This vending machine just ate the last of mine..."
  • "Hey, were you going to use this machine next? It gave me a free bag of chips, and I don't need to eat that many!"
  • "Do you work here?"
  • "Look, I'm not an employee, but the ____ are right over there."
  • "Hey, is this yours? It was by your feet."
  • "Are you from ____ or ____?"
  • "Hello, ____."
  • "I swear I've seen you on TV."
  • "Yes, I'm ____, and I can take a picture with you if you want."
  • "Oh my gosh, can I pet your dog?!"
  • "Sorry, there was a hair hanging off of your sleeve, and it was bothering me."
  • "Oh I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to walk into you!"
  • "Wait a minute! I think they mixed up our orders."
  • "Ugh, this isn't my food. Did anyone here order a ____?"
  • "You look so cold. Do you want to borrow my jacket?"
  • "H-Hey, I'm freezing. Is there any way I can s-stand close to you and maybe get warmer?"
  • "You poor thing, you look like you're cooking! Here, take a bottle of water."
  • "It's so hot I think I might pass out. Can you help me?"
  • "Are you okay?"
  • "Oh, good, you're awake. What happened to you?"
  • "Where am I?"
  • "Get in! You're in danger!"
  • "Please, let me ride with you. There's someone after me!"
  • "Grab the spare helmet and jump on."
  • "Are you playing ____?"
  • "Hey, do you want to trade friend codes?"
  • "Hi, my date just stood me up, so now I have a free ticket."
  • "I'd love to take that free spot as long as you don't mind sitting next to me."
  • "Have you seen a lost child around here?"
  • "I found this child, and by the look on your face, I think they're yours."
  • "That coat isn't real fur, is it?"
  • "If you can't tell the difference between real animal pelt and fake, you shouldn't be harassing people on the street."
  • "Are we locked in here?"
  • "Can I use your phone?"
  • "Here, take my phone. No questions asked."
  • "What's cookin' good lookin'?"
  • "If you're trying to flirt with me, you may want to try again."
Kitten’s Got His Tongue | M | 01

Yoongi & Jimin | BTS | 5.5k Words | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07.

Yoongi orders Jimin and you from a hybrid companion service, but when he receives the two of you, he has no idea what to actually do with you.

Keep reading

My Chemical Romance Asks
  • <p> <b><p></b> <b></b> I brought you my bullets, You brought me your love<p/><b>Romance:</b> Who was your first love?<p/><b>Honey, this mirror isn't big enough for the two of us:</b> Is there a side of yourself that no one knows about?<p/><b>Vampires will never hurt you:</b> Vampires or angry men?<p/><b>Drowning Lessons:</b> Plan on getting married?<p/><b>Our Lady of Sorrows:</b> Are you religious?<p/><b>Headfirst for Halos:</b> Are you hopeful? If so, what for?<p/><b>Skylines and Turnstiles:</b> An important event that changed your life or perspective?<p/><b>Early Sunsets Over Monroeville:</b> What's your favorite horror movie?<p/><b>This Is the Best Day Ever:</b> Ever been to the hospital?<p/><b>Cubicles:</b> Where would you be without My Chem?<p/><b>Demolition Lovers:</b> Would you die for your current lover?<p/><b></b> Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge<p/><b>Helena:</b> Have you lost a family member or friend?<p/><b>Give 'Em Hell, Kid:</b> Have you ever considered committing murder?<p/><b>To The End:</b> Corpse Bride. Yay or nay?<p/><b>You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison:</b> Ever committed a crime?<p/><b>I'm Not Okay (I Promise):</b> Ever felt out of place?<p/><b>The Ghost of You:</b> Ever cried while watching a movie?<p/><b>The Jetset Life is Gonna Kill You:</b> Ever been cheated on or have cheated?<p/><b>Interlude:</b> Favorite My Chem song?<p/><b>Thank You for the Venom:</b> Ever wrote something stupid on a t-shirt?<p/><b>Hang 'Em High:</b> Ever shot a gun?<p/><b>It's Not a Fashion Statement, It's a Fucking Deathwish:</b> Who's your best friend?<p/><b>Cemetery Drive:</b> What's the hardest drive you've experienced?<p/><b></b> The Black Parade<p/><b>The End:</b> Ever thought it'd be the end for you?<p/><b>Dead!:</b> Ever wanted to die?<p/><b>This Is How I Disappear:</b> Ever done something to someone that you can't forgive yourself for?<p/><b>The Sharpest Lives:</b> Are you anxious?<p/><b>Welcome to the Black Parade:</b> What's your favorite memory?<p/><b>I Don't Love You:</b> Have you ever stopped loving them?<p/><b>House of Wolves:</b> What is your favorite era?<p/><b>Cancer:</b> Old or new?<p/><b>Mama:</b> Ever disappointed your parents?<p/><b>Sleep:</b> Any bad dreams?<p/><b>Teenagers:</b> Are you scared of people your own age?<p/><b>Disenchanted:</b> What changed your life for the better?<p/><b>Famous Last Words:</b> What changed your mind about things?<p/><b>Blood:</b> Any hidden secrets no one knows?<p/><b>Danger Days:</b> The True Lives of The Fabulous Killjoys<p/><b>Look Alive, Sunshine:</b> What time do you wake up?<p/><b>Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na):</b> What gives you strength?<p/><b>Bulletproof Heart:</b> Do you miss anyone right now?<p/><b>SING:</b> Who is your idol?<p/><b>Planetary (GO!):</b> Biggest accomplishment?<p/><b>The Only Hope for Me Is:</b> Do you consider yourself hopeless?<p/><b>Jet Star and The Kobra Kid/Traffic Report:</b> What's your favorite go-to outfit?<p/><b>Party Poison:</b> Do you speak different languages?<p/><b>Save Yourself, I'll Hold Them Back:</b> What is your biggest wish?<p/><b>S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W:</b> Biggest regrets?<p/><b>Summertime:</b> Who's got you excited for the summer?<p/><b>DESTROYA:</b> If you could save anyone in the world from danger/poverty/war/etc. Who would it be?<p/><b>The Kids From Yesterday:</b> What do you wish you could tell your past self?<p/><b>Goodnite, Dr. Death:</b> Opinions on standing for the National Anthem?<p/><b>Vampire Money:</b> What is your catchphrase irl?<p/></p><p/><
Basically, This is Basically What Every Dr. Phil Episode is Basically Like Basically
  • Dr. Phil: Hello, I am Doctor Philip, and today we'll be tackling an issue that is very widespread, but rarely spoken about. Gaming addiction. Now, I know many of you know at least one person in your life who plays video games, whether that be a child or, in some cases, a spouse.
  • Audience: *laughs*
  • Dr. Phil: But, when unregulated, gaming can lead to serious addiction. Today I have with me a mother who's home life has been torn apart as her very own son descended into gaming addiction.
  • Mother: *sniffing and wiping tears away* Hello, doctor. Will you cure my son?
  • Dr. Phil: Well, dear, that's... uhh. Let's just bring the boy out already.
  • *dramatic music plays*
  • Gamer: My name is Gregg, I'm 19 years old, I'm a gaming addict, and I don't give a f*ck.
  • Audience: *gasps*
  • Gamer: Yeah, I game for 19 to 20 hours a day and the other four hours I use for looking up sick gaming strats or beating it to anime porn. I once sucked off a dude because he offered me minecraft diamonds. I don't give a sh*t, I would've sucked him off even if he didn't have the diamonds.
  • Audience: *gasps louder*
  • Gamer: Do I hate women? Yes, I hate women. I've emailed Anita Sarkeesian my address. She knows where I am if she wants to fight me. Feminists, square the fuck up. People always ask why I don't do anything other than gaming. I ask them why don't they mind their own f*cking business. I don't think I have a problem. Dr. Phil can honestly eat my whole an*s.
  • Gamer: *walks out onto the stage*
  • Audience: *boos*
  • Gamer: F*ck all y'all! I don't give a f*ck! *flips off the audience*
  • Dr. Phil: Please take a seat, son.
  • Gamer: *sits very disrespectfully*
  • Mother: *starts bawling*
  • Dr. Phil: Son, do you think that was acceptable behavior?
  • Gamer: The only behavior I care about is the behavioral patterns for enemies in the S.T.A.L.K.E.R. series. I love video games: Master chief, Mario, uhm, Blinx the Cat... Blasto. Love those guys!
  • Audience: *boos*
  • Gamer: I don't care! You think I care! F*ck all y'all!
  • Dr. Phil: All these people are booing you, doesn't that make you feel bad?
  • Gamer: Are you deaf? Have I not articulated the fact that I absolutely 100% do not care about anything except for video games? I. DON'T. GIVE. A. F*CK.
  • Mother: He's always like this, there's no changing him. It didn't used to be this way... just *starts bawling harder*
  • Dr. Phil: I think there is a way to change him, and we'll find out more about that after these messages.
  • *Dr. Phil theme plays*
  • *The lights dim and every goes empty eyed and slack-jawed*
  • Gamer: Heh, this is weird. *nudges mom and whispers to her* Hey, we're getting paid for this, right. Hey, mom? ...Mom?
  • Mother: *completely unresponsive*
  • Dr. Phil: *completely unresponsive*
  • Audience: *completely unresponsive*
  • Gamer: Heh... this is REALLY weird. *looks around nervously*
  • Audience member: Hey!
  • Gamer: Huh?
  • Audience Member: I'm in the audience! Over here! My arms are strapped to the chair! You have to help me!
  • Gamer: *runs to the audience member*
  • Audience Member: Thank god, I thought I was the only one here left with any brains.
  • Gamer: *hastily undoing the straps* What the fuck is going on?
  • Audience Member: I don't know, but this definitely isn't Dr. Phil's show.
  • Gamer: Then what is it?
  • Audience Member: No clue, but we have to get out of here before the commercial breaks ends.
  • Gamer: *successfully undoes the straps*
  • Audience Member: C'mon! Let's go. *grabs the gamer by the arm*
  • Gamer: *resists* Wait a fucking minute. Why am I supposed to trust you?
  • Audience Member: Because I'm normal and everyone else is braindead if you haven't noticed.
  • Gamer: Yeah, but I'm not going anywhere until I know what's going on. Being on Dr. Phil is a huge opportunity for me to, y'know, advertise my brand. I'm a gamer if you haven't noticed.
  • Audience Member: Are you insane? Have you had a look around you? Does this anything happening right now seem normal to you? Who cares about your "brand". Do you even remember how you got here?
  • Gamer: Well... now that you mention, I can't really remember exactly.
  • Audience Member: Yeah, now let's get the fuck out of here.
  • *the gamer and audience member run through the back exit into the hallways*
  • *the Dr. Phil theme blares as the show returns from commercial break*
  • Gamer: My ears!
  • Audience Member: Move it! *jerks gamer's arm*
  • Gamer: Okay, calm down.
  • *the entire audience screams in unison*
  • Gamer: What the fuck is that!?
  • Audience Member: It's the reason we're running! Quick, in here!
  • *the duo duck into a cramped broom closest*
  • Gamer: Listen, you have to tell me what the fuck is going on right now!
  • Audience Member: Shh.
  • Gamer: Don't shush me!
  • Audience Member: *covers the gamer's mouth*
  • *agonized screaming and violently rumbling passes by the broom closest*
  • Gamer: Holy shit!
  • Audience Member: Stop yelling.
  • Gamer: How can I not yell when it sounds the gates of hell just passed by us!
  • Audience Member: You want it to turn back around and find us?
  • Gamer: Alright. I'll calm down... I'll. *start sobbing*
  • Audience Member: Please, please stop crying. You're too loud.
  • Gamer: I can't! I'm under a lot of stress!
  • Audience Member: You'll be dead if you don't shut the fuck.
  • Gamer: I never wanted any of this, I just wanted to go on Dr. Phil so people would recognize me on YouTube and I could become a popular Let's Player!
  • Audience Member: If you don't shut up right now, I'll-
  • *a snake bites the audience member's neck*
  • Audience Member: *eyes roll up*
  • Gamer: *screams like a baby*
  • *snakes slither under the closet door*
  • Gamer: *stumbles out of the closet and falls into hallway covered with snakes* Fuck me! Fuck me!
  • Gamer: *attempts to run away but falls beneath the snakes and into and empty void*
  • *agonized screaming echoes from all around*
  • Gamer: Am I in hell? I have to be in hell. You don't fall through a pool of snakes and wind up anywhere else but hell.
  • Dr. Phil: THERE IS NO HELL.
  • Gamer: Doc, is that you? If this isn't hell then where am I?
  • Dr. Phil: YOU'RE IN MY REALM SON. *Dr. Phil's face appears glowing in the distance, his eyes are empty sockets and his mouth hangs open*
  • Gamer: What the fuck are you?
  • Dr. Phil: I'M DOCTOR PHILIP.
  • Gamer: You're not Dr. Phil!
  • Dr. Phil: I NEVER SAID I WAS, SON. *a wall of gray human bodies lights up surrounding Dr. Phil's massive head, dr. phil's giant snake body slithers towards the gamer and opens its third eye* I'M DOCTOR PHILIP.
  • *the wall of bodies screams in unison as Dr. Phil devours the gamer*
  • *Dr. Phil theme plays loudly*
  • Dr. Phil: THE NEXT EPISODE IS STARTING. I'M LATE. *slithers into the wall of bodies and his snake body slowly transforms into a normal Dr. Phil's body*
  • Dr. Phil: *crawls onto the stage*
  • Dr. Phil: *dusts himself off* Woo, I went on quite an adventure.
  • Audience: *laughs*
  • Dr. Phil: I'm glad we can all find some time in our lives to laugh, but today's episode is covering something that is most certainly not a laughing matter. It's one of the most serious addictions striking America today and it's rarely talked about. I'm talking about people who love to pee on their mattresses and then pay people exorbitant amounts of money to suck their disgusting mattresses clean.
  • Audience: ... *someone clears their throat*
  • Dr. Phil: What's the matter?
  • Cameraguy: Spsss, Doc. That's not what the episode is about. It's about people with terrible gambling issues.
  • Dr. Phil: Oh, ah, fuck! Cut to commercial!
Harry's interview on Quotidien
  • I: Can you hear me?
  • H: Yes
  • I: Welcome to Paris!
  • H: Thank you
  • I: How are you? Can you answer in French?
  • H: Good! A little bit. A tiny bit. Très bien et toi ?(very good and you?)
  • I: Very good, thank you. We start our interviews with “can you give us your five favourites words in English or French. Or a French sentence”. Someone told me you knew a French sentence.
  • H: Comment vous faites un café si délicieux? (How do you make such a delicious coffee?)
  • I: OK, that’s good.
  • H: That’s all I have.
  • I: Do you say it very often?
  • H: No... Yes
  • I: What does France mean to you? Is it something, someone etc...?
  • H: Best people I’ve known... I think her, *shows a fan* I guess. Fabien Barthez.
  • I: Yes, Fabien Barthez. Harry, you’re 23 years old and you’re one of the best known pop-star in the world. Everybody has expectations with your new album and single Sign Of The Times. Why did you choose that song? This is not what people were expecting.
  • H: I think I wanted to.. I've always liked music that made me feel something. You know I think writing it I could feet something I wanted to bring it out. I think it's a good indicator for me of what the album is to me. That's why I wanted to go with that first.
  • I: Billboard wrote that the single was "one of the more ambitious opening statements in pop this decade". Not bad, isn't it?
  • H: Thanks!
  • I: Do you have friends working at Billboard?
  • H: I don't know anyone at Billboard.
  • I: When we listen to the song we think of David Bowie, Queen, who else did you think of?
  • H: I mean, I think everyone, anything, any song you've ever listened to growing up or throughout your life or you've enjoyed, inspired you. There are a lot of different things. I wanted to just write and see what came out. I didn't know what I sounded like to make an album. So this process was as interesting for me as I think it will be for people listening to the album for the first time.
  • I: Do you know French singers other than Serge Gainsbourg? That's a tricky question.
  • H: I know Woodkid. He directed my music video.
  • I: Why him?
  • H: I think his videos are amazing, he's a really talented guy and I love French people so I worked with him.
  • I: When you're in Spain, do you say that you love Spanish people?
  • H: No!
  • I: It seems like everything has been easy...
  • H: Great tie.
  • I: You think so? It's French.
  • H: It's not a Spanish tie, isn't it?
  • I: Can I see your loafer? Oh yes! What is the brand? That's not French, isn't it? It's Italian.
  • H: No.
  • I: That's from the European Union!
  • H: Probably yeah.
  • I: It seems like everything has been easy for you, is it true?
  • H: Was what simple?
  • I: Your life, everybody wants a life like yours, with One Direction...
  • H: I mean, I feel very lucky to be able to make music, I feel very lucky to be able to make this, I feel very lucky today being in France and performing my song. I love this song. I can't complain.
  • I: What were the unpleasant things?
  • H: *thinking*
  • I: I don't know, say only one thing.
  • H: I think when you care so much about something, it's hard to get to the point where you feel like it's finished and it feels like you're adding and it never ends and it adds up. So I think the hardest part was getting into that point and be like "ok that's finished."
  • I: You said to the Rolling Stone magazine that most of the album was inspired by a woman. Really?
  • H: No I think, honestly, the album is much more about me than it is about anyone else. I think if I said the album is about a woman it kind of feels like, I don't know, I put a lot of work into this. I don't feel like it revolves around woman. It's a lot about me and things I've never said before. It's more about me.
  • I: How did you start with a boy band and end with a solo career? Is it complicated?
  • H: It's been a lot of fun. You know we were very lucky to get to do some amazing things and at the moment in our lives, we're in a time where everyone is trying their own thing and have a good time. It's been amazing to see everyone doing their own thing as well. If I can do as well as the others, it'd be amazing.
  • I: Do you call them everyday or text them? Do you use What's app?
  • H: I don't have that.
  • I: Why?
  • H: Yes we talk, absolutely. And everyone is bringing stuff out. It's been a lot going on. It's been a good time.
  • I: This is the album cover! Can you describe it? Why did you choose this picture?
  • H: Yeah. So, I don't know. I worked with photographer Harley Weir, I'm a massive fan of her work. And that's amazing and I was lucky enough to work with her. I felt like this was what I wanted.
  • I: Why is it pink? Why the water? Why your back? Why? It's beautiful but why is it pink?
  • H: I don't know, man!
  • I: Really? You don't know?
  • H: I don't know. I don't think I want...
  • I: Apparently pink is Rock'n'roll's colour.
  • H: Apparently so. I don't know. I think it means something to me and if it means anything to anyone else, I wouldn't want to take away from that by explaining it. I think the cool thing about stuff like photos and art is you can just leave it. You don't have to explain it.
  • I: Everybody sees what they want to see.
  • H: Yes exactly.
  • I: Have you seen this?
  • *video of people reacting to Harry's single*
  • I: Your fans record themselves while listening to the song for the first time. You can hear relevant analysis and apparently they all really liked it. Do you read what people say about you on social media? On Youtube, Twitter, Instagram? Do you use Instagram?
  • H: Yes I use it a little bit.
  • *The public disagrees with Harry*
  • H: Yes I use it a little bit. I mean I wish everyone was having as good time as the girl who was like that with her hands. That's what I do when I listen to the song.
  • I: Are you the one using your Instagram? Do you use your own fingers or someone else does it for you?
  • H: Yes, I do mine.
  • I: Do you still vote in Redditch?
  • H: In?
  • I: Redditch!
  • H: That's where I was born?
  • I: Yes.
  • H: I don't live in Redditch.
  • I: So you don't vote there. Where did you vote?
  • H: London, yeah.
  • I: What do you think of the Brexit? Welcome to Europe!
  • H: Thank you very much, thanks. I mean, I don't really comment on politics. To me, anything that brings people together is better than things that pull people apart. That's ... yeah.
  • I: Yet, you are in favour of equality of rights, men, women, gay people, straight people... That's politics.
  • H: I don't know. It doesn't feel like politics. I think stuff like equality feels much more fundamental. I feel like everyone is equal. That doesn't feel like politics to me.
  • I: Your fans are fetishists. They know all of your tattoos, piece of jewellery, they have heart attacks when you cut your hair. Right now you're playing with their feelings. Do you know that?
  • H: Oh ok.
  • I: Yes! What is your favourite tattoo?
  • H: I think... I have a.. probably. I don't know, actually.
  • I: Which one is the latest?
  • H: The latest is this one there. *shows Arlo* And this one. *shows Jackson*
  • I: Jackson? All of them?
  • H: Yes.
  • I: What's the story behind your haircut? How much did you spend on hair products with One Direction?
  • H: Yeah, like a lot. I used a lot, yeah.
  • I: You're in Dunkirk, Christopher Nolan's new movie.
  • H: Yes.
  • I: How did you do?
  • H: I auditioned.
  • I: Look at you there.
  • H: I am, that's me.
  • I: Yes.
  • H: I auditioned and it was great. It's going to be a really cool movie.
  • I: Harry, it feels like we know you since you're a baby. The whole world discovered you in 2010 on X Factor.
  • *video of Harry's X Factor audition*
  • I: You auditioned alone but Simon Cowell had an idea... he put you in a band with Zayn, Louis, Liam and Niall. You became One Direction. You found the name One Direction and you sold millions of albums. One Direction are soon considered as the new Beattles and you filled the biggest stadiums. The whole world was talking about you. When you go out we prayed for your eardrums. You became UK's pride. David Cameron is in one of your music videos, your sang for the Queen. But in 2015... bang! Zayn left the band, fans couldn't get over it. But don't worry, their favourite is now on the cover of the Rolling Stone magazine, he's in Christopher Nolan's new movie, he's Mick Jagger on SNL... What you don't know is that we've met in 2012. You were in France to promote an album and now I have questions. First one! When you're in a car and fans are all around you, do you see that?
  • *video of fans around a car*
  • H: I think I've actually lost my shoe there. When I got in the car... I got in the car and I was like "how many shoes do I have?" Yes I lost my shoe.
  • I: I have another question! Do you still do that before going on stage?
  • *video of Harry and Lou*
  • I: Can we do it?
  • H: No.
  • *does it anyway*
  • I: What is the weirdest question someone asked you?
  • H: I think it was actually a French interview. I got asked if I would pee in a sink... Yeah.
  • I: Ok, that's weird!
  • H: It was the first question, the first question.
  • I: It puts you in the mood.
  • H: Yeah.
  • I: What is the question you never want to be asked ever again? Did I asked you that question?
  • *Harry asks the public*
  • H: Which one? Oh crush.
  • I: What?
  • H: Crush.
  • I: Oh ok. I didn't ask it! Did you know that a French author wrote a novel about you. It's called "Styles", it's about his obsession with you. It's in French. You can translate it.
  • H: Oh! Is that true?
  • I: Yes it's true. He dedicated to you. It's called "Styles" and it's a really good book. Read it!
  • H: Thank you.
  • I: Thank you very much Harry Styles for coming tonight. His first eponymous album comes out on the 12th May. Thank you Harry Styles.
  • H: Thank you.
  • I: Have a safe journey home.
THE SIGNS AS THINGS I'VE SAID BEFORE
  • Aries: People hold hands? Psh I can't relate, I throw hands like a real man.
  • Taurus: [puts on fake glasses] It's time to read some hoes.
  • Gemini: Me actually liking someone? Sounds fake, I just like the validation that I'm not complete trash.
  • Cancer: I'm internally screaming right now because the one day I decide to wear makeup I keep crying. My eyelashes are clumping together and I cannot. I refuse.
  • Leo: Do you ever see the sun and you're like ... Man, I'd love to punch it because same. I want to punch the sun so hard. My only chance to be fist-kissed by a hottie.
  • Virgo: I feel bad that I don't recycle. I just can't be inspired to do it because I still feel terrible about life after doing so. [throws water bottle in recycling bin] Oh look, I still have depression!
  • Libra: I want to have a flowery aesthetic... I need a group of friends that are always willing to take pictures of frolicking through flower fields.
  • Scorpio: I love the fact that no one really knows anything about me, but it also makes me kind of sad at the same time. What is my legacy besides being the mysterious and hot one?
  • Sagittarius: The only person in this world who will never break my heart is education connection lady. She's still in 2009 singing about her education experience and I refuse to believe anything different.
  • Capricorn: I've spent 10 hours of my life listening to the education connection song. If I don't make it to college, then I may as well just die.
  • Aquarius: Other people around me are always like "I LOVE YOU! OMG, I LOVE YOU!" Meanwhile I'm just eating my imaginary popcorn thinking about how much I hate everyone.
  • Pisces: I'm eating five hour old chicken nuggets and I'm sad. I don't think I'll finish them... I have to throw them away... This is probably the worst thing I've ever done in my life.

After all these years, the thing that still gets me about Hannibal is the idea that someone could see all of someone else’s messy inner workings and still want them - and it’s even more than that, it’s the idea that someone could want someone else because of their messy inner workings.

This seems like such an insane and unrealistic thing to me, but isn’t that exactly what we all want in life? Just to be seen and understood and wanted, not in spite of yourself, but because of exactly who you are?

Like, shit, can you even imagine someone knowing about the awful way you organize your sock drawer, or how you actually take your pizza when you’re only ordering for yourself, or what your workout playlist looks like, or the way you threw on up on the staircase in front of everyone in the fourth grade, or the secret stash of Velveeta you keep in the pantry, or the recurring dream you have about getting lost in a nail salon, or your permanent and unabiding fear that love is fake and everyone’s been lying to you this whole time - can you even imagine someone knowing all that stuff about you, and still wanting you in every way? Damn, that’s some heavy shit.

Hey guys! I’ve told you before that I’m a writer so this is a hella long post because it’s track-by-track. Unapologetically so. Hope you guys enjoy x 

TRACK 1: “… READY FOR IT?

 This song is a battlecry. The thumping bass brings to mind the heavy thud of wolves paws as they race towards their prey, seeking the trail left by a girl who used to leave her heart open and on her sleeve, ready to be snatched at any moment in a snap of their jaws. But no more. From the moment she clears her throat, we learn this battle will be on Taylor’s terms. It is her fight to win.

This is the first love song she’s released and had complete artistic ownership of in three years. It is no coincidence then that there’s reference to the tortured passions of Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. They were a couple hopelessly and dangerously in love with many scars carved on their hearts by the other’s knife. This reference is a throwaway to the long list of ex lovers the girl who bathes in diamonds has had but also a reference to the flickers of hope Taylor feels for longevity no matter what with Joe. Their road may be complicated at times but they will get  there because the game is hers. The constant question of ready for it and in response baby let the games begin is so obviously a call of warning to Joe for what lies ahead but perhaps more subtly it is the call of Taylor’s inner voices and heart to her razor sharp self awareness. Is she ready for the games to begin? Is she ready to open her heart and give Joe a chance to be a better man?

TRACK 2: “END GAME” ft. Ed Sheeran & Future:

This song starts off with Taylor’s declaration that she wants to find a forever. It sounds sincere, gentle, wearied, the tone of the too often heartbroken. But then it shifts, it’s like the rose coloured glasses have come off and she’s reminded of her reputation. Then it’s all tongue in cheek sarcastic satire to keep the smile in place so that we don’t see how much it hurts. She has to weigh up every interaction in the context of her reputation. The addition of Ed & Future speaks volumes; one is a time trusted friend who has finally found a bright love of his own but that was not without heartbreak and the other gives her an edgier attitude that makes her self awareness all the more powerful.

There has been a further loss of innocence in this sharpening of her self awareness, gone are the wistful days of “say you’ll remember me”, that’s all I want. Now it’s all “I don’t wanna touch you, I don’t wanna be just another ex love you don’t wanna see.” She can see the fall right from the start but this time she opts out and says unless I’m your end game… because I don’t want to pick up any more pieces of my broken heart.

Also: Shoutout to Ed for his Cherry inspired verse. It made me feel many emotions too. SWEERAN THRIVES.

TRACK 3: “I DID SOMETHING BAD.”

The girl with the long list of ex lovers is back. However with the casually explicit twist, this narrative seems layered with perceptions and recognition of self-worth, “If a man talks shit, I owe him nothing.” This is drip-feeding the media exactly what they want, she’s stoking the fire herself. But in feeding the fire herself, she’s sending the burning embers back at them. Did you really think the girl who you used as an international rod for slut shaming would stay quiet forever? Nope. She doesn’t care if you burn her like a witch at the stake because she’s already done it. She’s burnt away all of the misplaced guilt and is now revelling in how good they felt in the moment. In fact, watch out she’s blazing with all the fire of a phoenix reborn and you might just get turned to ash.

TRACK 4: “DON’T BLAME ME.”

This & “I Did Something Bad” sound like sister tracks. The girl who jetsets around the world collecting men isn’t quite finished with her tale yet. She reminds us that defining her relationships by their headlines and paparazzi shots is a foolish move because those things are  one-dimensional. Taylor believes in love and this is her way of reminding us that there was love in every escapade of her heart up until now, at least at some point. She’s talking about the heady rushes head spinning intoxication of first glances and hands on skin and it doesn’t matter what the media says about the way she handles relationships because they forget love and that makes you crazy. Maybe in their minds the drug she refers to is not a singular identity but a collective “baby” and to them love will always be something she “uses”. But the heart wants what it wants and Taylor knows that so it doesn’t really matter.

TRACK 5: “DELICATE.”

This is the kind of song that happens when you cut the cord that is the boy crazy perception of yourself. You step back into the shadows and disappear so that they can’t find you. You close your heart, lock your doors and rebuild. And then he shows up. This is a cautionary songpp because Taylor can obviously feel sparks but… she’s just started to rebuild and if they find out the wolf hunt begins again. With delicate disbelieving vocals, we see Taylor start to realise that he can’t possibly want to gain anything from her reputation because it’s so bad… The wheels turn in her head. I imagine the realisation, “Wait so he must like me for me?” With the beat drop comes hope. Details are slowly given and then he stays. He doesn’t run so Taylor gives him pieces of herself; confessions thoughts and then her brain catches up with her mouth and the wheels come to a grinding halt: Her inner monologue screams it was too much too fast. We’ve all been there. It’s too delicate. No going back now. It’ll break and I’ll be left alone. Maybe one day I’ll find someone who doesn’t walk away, one day too.

TRACK 6: “LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO.”

The world tore a girl to shreds, made her play the fool on tilted stages. She retreated and rebuilt. Now the fool is dead. From here on out, she only trusts her army. With high heeled boots, red lips and words as sharp as daggers, she’s cutting herself a path. She is taking no prisoners and she’s accompanied by a savage snake because she and her army will always be better at the game. When she’s finished hunting down your asses, she’ll sit back on her throne with a high pitched giggle and say, “oh look what you made me do.”

TRACK 7:  “SO IT GOES…”

When people are watching, you have to be careful. Cover your tracks. Taylor doesn’t leave her heart open or on display anymore. But then they leave. The door shuts. You lock it with a key and the crashing chemistry you’ve been trying to deny slams into your ribs, knocking the breath out of you. It’s stolen kisses, careless touches, reckless chasing of the high. Body language is a fluency all its own. But a quick reminder before you unlock the door and venture out again; wash the lipstick off your face. *clears throat* you got a little caught up in the moment and you don’t want to blow your cover!

TRACK 8: “GORGEOUS.”

 The childish proclamation of the title to begin this next glimpse into Reputation  is hinting at the satirical inner monologue that this song is , reminiscent of the times you write your crush’s  last name instead of your own to see how it fits. It’s all giggles and late night phone calls, the kind Taylor most likely had with Abigail where they talked real slow because it was late and their mamas didn’t know (: However, it could also serve as a projection of the runaway daydream that fills Taylor’s mind from that very first night when she stumbles home alone to her cats, of what a possible future might look like (with kids one day) The lazy liquor loosened rhythms of Taylor’s thoughts tell us things she hasn’t admitted fully yet but will soon on nights at 4am staring at her reflection  in the bathroom mirror, telling herself the bravest thing she ever did was run - that this gorgeous  swoonworthy British boy with his careless touches and drawling accent has awakened the possibility of something better. This realisation rattles Taylor as she contemplates the gaps in her current relationship. *cue wistful sighs of frustration and enchantment, set to the dialogue of every teenage movie where the girl thinks the boy is just too good looking, how unfair is that?

TRACK 9: “GETAWAY CAR.”

The thing about any movie that has a getaway car scene is that they inevitably crash…. And that’s exactly what happens here. Except, the carnage is human hearts. She was running. There was a person she crashed into. It gets all blurred and tangled, she thinks she’s free but the thing about those movies is that the thing you ran from in the getaway car catches up to you particularly if there’s a track you can follow. Oceans of distance weren’t enough, darling. You needed to disappear. And I think she realises that  but she tries to pretend innocence and will the sunset closer. Unfortunately  the only real  way to untangle yourself is to disappear crying in the back of a getaway car in the dead of night. Without a word. That must have hurt a lot.

TRACK 10: “KING OF MY HEART.”

This song happens in tandem with Delicate. She’d sworn off love. Joe turned up. The British boy with the heart of gold who made his American queen believe. He made behind closed doors a paradise of rooftop nights. Before she knows it, he is every love story Taylor has ever daydreamed of. The line “is this the end to all the endings” made my heart swell because it’s clear Taylor hopes he’s the one. Please let there be no more heartbreak.

TRACK 11: “DANCING WITH OUR HANDS TIED.”

Dancing is supposed to be a joyous thing and maybe it was in the beginning. You can reassure with every beat. Sometimes your gut instinct shouldn’t be ignored though  because it does raise red flags. The door only needs to be fractionally ajar for the hunters to find a way in and set your paradise aflame. It sometimes doesn’t matter how much you dance to escape the flames, they will catch you. You will get tired. Dancing is a bliss that is euphoria swimmimg through your veins if the beat enters your bloodstream in the right moment; you feel like you could live forever. And in the end no matter how much it might hurt to walk away again, you would still dance for just another kick of that rush.

TRACK 12: “DRESS.”

Taylor’s caught up in the chemical rush. Every syllable drips with lust and the glory of the high when your hearts crash into each other, slamming the breath from between your ribs. It’s hands in hair and I don’t care what they think. It’s seeing the worst (hi bleachella) and still wanting. It’s realising you made mistakes before this and why didn’t you just do this from the beginning because it feels so good now you can’t ever have imagined wanting anything else. But every mistake is a marker in the roadmap and you woke up just in time to find where you needed to be.

TRACK 13: “THIS IS WHY WE CAN’T HAVE NICE THINGS.”

I think everyone’s been in this situation, right? Someone burns you and it hurts but in the fun of a party, you click and connect again and it all starts to feel like water under the bridge. Maybe there was over-reacting happening. You throw them a second chance. Redemption. You’re the nice girl and you make excuses. But then they do it again, maybe it takes a couple of things and suddenly it’s too much. You lock the gate for your own safety. But they still expect you not to care. To flash a smile and forgive. I’m sorry. That’s not happening. You get hurt when I push back. I guess I should forgive you because we both threw stones. But… that would require me to mean it. Whoops, *laughs manaically* I can’t even say it with a straight face!!!

PS: It’s not too obvious I have personal experience with this song is it? Thanks KS x.

TRACK 14: “CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT.”

This song is difficult for me to process because I never thought it would actually happen. I seem to remember somewhere along the way, a couple of years back, Taylor expressing frustration that she couldn’t seem to write happy songs about being in love like Ed Sheeran could. Well, I wish you could go back Taylor and tell yourself what you know now.

This song is a three minute ode to happy love. It’s smiles so wide you might split your face in half at the thought of that person. It’s blushing and shy giggles and bursts of song and twirls and all caps texts from your girls as they collectively lose their minds over how happy you are. This is every love story and fairytale Taylor has ever wanted but the wolves are always waiting, not so easy to outrun. 

Taylor says it herself in the  opening lines. She was done. The castle had crumbled. The bricks left bruises blooming on her exposed skin. People were tearing her down and she was hurting. Her heart had been shattered but so had her soul, again and again, relentlessly. And then she retreated, went silent and rebuilt. What she didn’t count on was love. A man who saw all the bruises and broken pieces and said it’s OK, I can still find the real you under all that. Taylor like so many of us looked in the mirror and saw all the danger for herself and for Joe, tried to push him away, keep him safe. That’s a very noble action but breaking your own heart so it doesn’t hurt as much when you feel like the other shoe is going to drop requires apathy from the other person. And Joe, god bless you, you didn’t let her push you away. You broke down her walls and showed you that starlight love does still exist. You loved her for Taylor. The person. You got her to give love a chance when she swore never again so thank you so much for that. I can’t really express how much that means to all of us. 

 This is an anthem of hope for every person who has ever been broken and is in the process of putting pieces back together. It can be done. We will find love. We will be radiantly happy again. We will be the strongest we’ve ever been. 

PS: *leans over to whisper in Taylor’s ear*

I think you’re finally clean…

TRACK 15: “NEW YEARS DAY.”

Piano on the final track… This is an ode of pure hope and happiness, a fitting final chapter to a remarkable story. Everyone wants the glory of the midnights and the lover who will be in their bloodstream like the party. But what we all hope for is someone who stays long enough to help us clean up the bottles on New Years Day. Someone who makes us feel like the messy unfiltered parts look like a highlight reel. Good times and bad times and all in between. They won’t leave. You found him. Forever.

This album is fucking brilliant Taylor. I love you. Proud x.

@taylorswift @taylornation @brian-mansfield

anonymous asked:

What do you have against Bex? (Can u also provide evidence thanks 💜)

When I first got this ask, I was tempted to play it off as a joke and say “the fact she exists,” and leave it at that. But I feel like it’s important to stay informed. And if you genuinely don’t know, I’ll give you the complete rundown. It’s long, it’s messy, and it’s nasty, so bear with me.

First, and introduction. When I talk about Bex, I’m referring to the actress Bex Taylor-Klaus, who is the voice actor (or VA) of the character Pidge in the show Voltron Legendary Defender on Netflix.

It all began a while ago when Bex liked a comment of a picture. The picture involved a ship called Shei//th. I censored the name so it doesn’t show up in the tags of that on tumblr. But essentially it’s a ship between two characters, Takashi Shirogane, a 25 year old pilot who is the leader of the team, and Keith Kogane, one of the other “paladins” or fighters on the team. People like me find this ship to be distasteful, since Shiro is an adult, and the others are teens (it’s actually a bit messier than that, since an official Voltron source listed Keith as 18, but the producers of the show, Lauren Montgomery and Joaquim Dos Santos, said they were not consulted on the book so there’s some question as to whether it’s canon or not). Either way, the consensus by most reasonable people is that it’s probably not a healthy thing to depict in children’s media, when you consider the considerable age difference, the power imbalance (leader, senior officer with someone they are in charge of), and finally, the iconic line by the character of Keith himself when he defines their relationship as a familial one.

Nonetheless, the ship persists, as nasty things on tumblr are wont to do. There’s a lot of shipping discourse on tumblr between two distinct groups which can be labelled as “antis”–people who are not in favor of any Shiro/paladin ships, or what has become to be known as “shaladins”–people who ship any variation of Shiro with the paladins.

Here is where Bex got involved. On Instagram there was a picture of a black shoe and a red shoe together and the joke was about the shoes being a prophecy that Shei//th would be canon. A joke, mostly, considering all the evidence above. But here’s where Bex got herself in trouble. She liked a comment on the picture where someone said “Keith is a power bottom confirmed.”

Obviously, this caused a bit of an uproar within the fanbase, especially between the discourse between antis and shaladins. Shaladins were celebrating that an Official Voltron Source liked their ship, and antis were angry about that acknowledgement of the ship at all by official sources, and the sexualization of a kid’s show (more on this later.)

So of course this sparked the discourse on tumblr. One user, @lancehunks, who was receiving asks about Bex, tagged her in the replies.They were definitely unfavorable. 

and 

and a few more. 

Bex, being the big strong, adult, woman she is, decided that she could not take this obviously grievous insult to her name [sarcasm], and decided to reblog them all and respond to them. Keep in mind, that @lancehunks was just 13 years old. And Bex (22) decided that these were appropriate responses:

Yep, you read that right. Not only an adult but employed on a kid’s show! To a 13 year old! The target audience of the very show she’s a part of! (Oh, the hypocrisy). But wait, there’s more:

Just in case you’re confused, let me tell you the many, many reasons why this is unacceptable. 

  1.  Bex is an adult. You’d think she’d be a little more mature by now just in general. It’s the internet and there are trolls.
  2. The person she was addressing was 13!!!! Do I think it was mature to tag Bex in all those posts? No. But it’s… behavior that you can expect from 13 year old’s on the internet. If we swore at and tore down every single one of them every time they did something dumb, we would need a lot more therapists for teens in the world. Plus it’s really disingenuous to pretend that we wouldn’t have done something similar when we were younger if we were in that position.
  3. Bex is famous. While she’s certainly not on the caliber of massive A-List stars like Tom Holland or Zendaya, she has a fanbase that exceeds the normal person’s friend group. Just because she’s been on TV before, she has groupies that will support her no matter what, who will troll for her, who uncritically and unconditionally worship her. I’m not a Bex fan, nor do I really care to know her well enough to know just exactly how many fans she has, to be certain she does have them. When she publicly reblogged those words, that “motherfucker,” those fighting words, she weaponized her fanbase. What I mean when I say that is her behavior gave her groupies permission to behave the same way. By targeting someone who didn’t like her (a thirteen year old!!!!!), she opened the gates to her fans and groupies doing the same thing, to a kid.

This lead to some terrible things happening. The 13 year old was getting death threats, sexual violence threats, and nsfw content, all because Bex just couldn’t let it go. 

What does this mean? Finish it? Finish the kid? If you’re so sick of the fighting, then why did you even respond in the first place? Bex is the one who escalated the situation. Bex is the one who caused the fighting in the first place (by that I mean the fighting between the two that night, the fighting between antis and shaladins has been going on for as long as the show).

There we go. Now he have something resembling dignity. But unfortunately the damage was done, and user @lancehunks deleted their blog. As a direct response to Bex’s actions. Bex caused a 13 year old to leave tumblr. 

When hearing this news, Bex offered a half-assed apology:

This is the most insincere apology I have ever seen. “The internet has Bad things on it and it’s YOUR fault for seeing them” is not an apology. The best part is that she’s a big fat hypocrite. “Sometimes, when it’s harmless, the best thing I can do is shake my head and keep scrolling.” So why didn’t you Bex? Why didn’t you keep scrolling instead of targeting a 13 year old?

In light of recent political events, though there’s one thing that stands out to me: 

Sound like anybody you know? The esteemed President, perhaps?

*disclaimer* I am in no way claiming that Bex is a Trump supporter. I don’t know enough about her–and I don’t want to know enough about her–to know where she leans politically. I’m just drawing the attention to the similarities in moral equivalency going on, here.*

Sure you targeted a 13 year old and weaponized your fanbase, but someone tagging you in a snarky post is just as bad, right? (Wrong.)

You’d think that would be the end. You’d think that Bex would be capable of living and learning, or maybe even just taking her own advice, and keep scrolling. But here we go again.

The next bit of drama started when the possibly canon guide book was released, stating Keith’s age as 18. There was a big celebration on the shaladin side because technically, that would make it “legal” for Keith and Shiro to have sex. Besides the fact that legal  ≠ moral, again, Voltron is a kid’s show. But on tumblr this time, Bex posted this.

This time, the discourse surrounding Bex was a little different., This time, the discourse mostly focused on the fact that even if Shiro and Keith disregarded canon and morals and the fact that it’s a kid’s show ever did get in a relationship, the only thing that matters is how they like to have sex.

This is a problem for a lot of reasons. There’s a culture, pretty prominent on tumblr of women, mostly white, who are obsessed with gay sex. They write fanfiction and p*rn solely for their own personal gratification. This, of course, is a gross misinterpretation to wanting LGBT+ representation. If you aren’t a mlm (an acronym for men-loving-man, that includes many sexualities) then writing p*rn about is sexualizing them, using them as a tool to get yourself off, and not like complex human people. Mlm are more than how they like to have sex. In fact, that shouldn’t be a part of a discussion for anybody except between willing partners. This also feeds into the popular and damaging stereotype that gay men are predatory by nature.

So, as a whole, not good. 

And again, we have a whole situation escalated by Bex. The worst part is, to people who tried to explain this to her, the only response they were given was a gif:

So once again, a minor dared to express their distaste for Bex on tumblr. But this time, they didn’t tag her. This time, they censored her name. But Bex found it anyway. And she decided to do the exact same thing that led to a minor leaving the website, and to stop watching the show. 

Have no fear, this time though. This time, Bex is going after a 14 year old, at least she’s not going after kids anymore, right? [sarcasm]

Some final notes. 

Bex claims to be an LGBT+ rights activist. I’m also pretty sure she’s a lesbian herself (again, I already know too much about her, I’m not looking to get to know her better.) So, you’d think, as someone who wants equality for LGBT+ people and communities, she’d have the wherewithal to listen to specific subsets of that group when they say something about themselves, like, for example, young mlm who don’t appreciate being sexualized by a white woman. So I couldn’t help but laugh out loud when I saw this on her blog:

Now, I happen to agree with the above statement, but it’s so ironic, so hypocritical that Bex is talking about the sexualization of anything. Because kid’s shows aren’t safe from her sexualization and mlm certainly aren’t. How can one person be so incredibly oblivious? A mystery that I don’t have any interest in solving. 

I also want to address something a little more devious and a little more dark. I personally know of at least 12 different people who sent Bex asks, politely explaining some of the things I’ve talked about here, or relaying how her words hurt them personally. Bex never answered any of them. But she did answer this:

Just to be perfectly clear, I do not condone or encourage hatemail. Do not send people anything wishing them death or harm in any way. I have never sent nor do plan on sending hatemail, and you should be ashamed of yourself if you do.

However, this is incredibly nefarious. Bex doesn’t answer any of the many asks she got that were polite, but proved her wrong. She didn’t answer any of the young mlm who gave her their personal stories and who weren’t anonymous. Instead, she publishes this. And she did this on purpose, to make her look innocent, to make her look like she’s the one being attacked. I get hatemail every single day too. Things along similar lines to this. I block the user. Delete them, One, because I don’t want to expose my followers to that kind of negativity on a daily basis, two, a mature person knows that deleting them is the best kind of revenge because the user will be constantly looking for a response and they will know they had no effect on me and three, because if you do that, eventually they stop. This is intentional on Bex’s part to make the people who don’t like her look bad. I don’t like Bex at all, and I certainly do not support that message. Any reasonable person wouldn’t. Also the fact that it’s an anonymous message adds a certain air of doubt as to who sent it. 

The point is, Bex is purposely ignoring polite and well-meaning people and posted this to “prove” she’s the one on the “good” side because no good person would send that message.

This is also worth noting: 

This was posted after the lancehunks debate but before the power bottom comment she made. In this post, Bex admits that a relationship between Shiro and any of the paladins is predatory in nature. She said that. Her words. And then after that she said that Keith was a power bottom. 

The last thing I want to say, is that Voltron is a kid’s show. It’s rated US-TV-Y7. Which means for years 7 and older. Regardless of the ship, there should be no sexual content, be it fanart, of fanfiction of Voltron characters at all. We are all collectively responsible for keeping content age-appropriate for the target audience. So, stop it. All and any ships. 

For minors, this is my advice to you:
Bex is a predator, a hypocrite, and a liar. Do not engage with her. Block her. Do not tag her in any of your posts. She has a history of targeting minors. Protect yourself. Do not engage.

fictionandmusic  asked:

wow your writing in the gods and monsters series is amazing! i've always loved greek myths and you bring them to life and add a different twist that makes it better than anything i've ever read about mythology!! if you have time, could you do a continuation of the Hades and Kore story? Kore/Persephone is one of my fav goddesses and i can't wait to see where you take her story!

(continuation of: x, x)

The first time Kore throws herself into the River Styx, she is reckless and stubborn and feels like she has so little left to lose, only an overbearing mother she yearns to escape.

The first time Kore throws herself into the River Styx, she fights and swims and survives. She is picked up on the shore and carried to safety in Hades’s arms.

The second time Kore throws herself into the River Styx, she is reckless and stubborn and feels like she has everything to lose. She lets the water take her, and she drowns.

The second time Kore throws herself into the River Styx, it kills her.

~

Kore wakes up after falling unconscious while being carried by the King of the Underworld. Her skin is fully healed, no longer blistering and burning. She’s naked under the soft blankets, but she was naked when she dove into the river, so she’s not too worried about it.

“I didn’t know you were a goddess,” someone says, and she turns her head to see a little girl sitting by her bedside with black skin and grey eyes and hair. She’s glaring at her, “I wouldn’t have tried to kill you if I’d known. You shouldn’t touch my water – it’s not good for you. It will kill you. It does not care what you are.”

“It did not kill Achilles,” Kore says, pushing herself up so the blanket falls to her waist.

The young Lady Styx huffs and gets to her feet, pushing open the long wardrobe on the other side of the room. “It did, actually. What my river takes, it keeps.” Kore raises an eyebrow. Styx doesn’t explain further, only places a dark blue gown on the bed. “Hecate put some of her old things in here for you. She’s taller and thinner than you are. But you are a goddess. You can make it work.”

“I can,” Kore agrees, amused. She pushes herself out of bed, and her hair falls into her face.

Her hair has been a dark brown her whole life.

She strides over to the wardrobe and pulls it open, starring at herself in the mirror.

Her hair has turned pure, snowy white. The hair on her head of course, but the rest of it too. Her eyebrows, the light hair on her arms and legs, going down her navel, the hair between her legs – all of it white.

“You’re lucky nothing worse happened,” Styx scolds. “My river usually does much worse than that.”

Kore touches one of her new, pale eyebrows. “That is an excellent point, Lady Styx.”

With some clever magic, Kore pulls on the now perfectly fitting gown. Hecate doesn’t tend to bother with them, only dresses up if there’s some sort of celebration that requires her attendance – something that hasn’t happened in a long time, ever since she irritated Zeus and Poseidon to the point that they called for her head on a spike. The gown is old, even by their standards, but its beautifully crafted, stars plucked from the heavens and sewn into the bodice, waves from the seven seas curling around the long skirt. “This is very valuable,” she says, “Is Hecate sure she would like me to have it?”

Styx shrugs, “She said it was a young woman’s dress, and however she may look, she’s not a young woman any more. It’s my favorite dress of hers – I was quite cross that she gave it to you, but I did almost kill you. So I suppose that’s fair enough.”

“Ah,” Kore says, not quite sure how to respond to that. “I see.”

Styx grins at her and grabs her hand. The child goddess’s skin is freezing to the touch, but Kore doesn’t flinch back out of fear of being rude. “Come with me now. Hades wants to see you.”

The girl leads her through the twisting hallways to a polished wooden door. It’s not the throne room, where Kore thought that the girl would take her. She’s seen the grand inner chambers of Poseidon and Zeus’s homes before, of the lesser gods even, and Kore braces herself for something just as grandiose and intimidating.

Styx opens the door and pushes her inside before vanishing.

Kore blinks and looks around.

The room is smaller than she expected. It’s lined with shelves packed with scrolls, and mounted on the opposite wall is large map that’s constantly shifting and changing, and it take her almost a full minute of looking at it to realize it’s a map of the underworld.

“You’re looking better.”

Kore’s eyes snap down, and it’s only then that she notices the figure of Hades, King of the Underworld, hunched over his desk. His hair pulled in messy low ponytail, and there are dark bags under his eyes. He’s in a simple black chiffon, one no more presumptuous than any mortal noble would wear. He’s the most unassuming, unremarkable thing in already unassuming, unremarkable room.

Suddenly, she feels over-dressed.

“Thank you,” she says, not knowing what else to say. She feels – awkward, almost, in front of him, which isn’t something she’s ever felt with anyone. She wants to climb into his lap and rest her head against his shoulder. She wants to force him into some proper clothes for a king. She wants to put him to bed and make him sleep until he loses those bruises under his eyes.

She’s never wanted to do any of those things for anyone before. She doesn’t even know him.

Although – she knows he came for her. That he found an intruder into his realm and picked her up and soothed her, carried her to safety and washed her of the corrosive water of the Styx. He placed her in his palace and did not touch her as so many other men would have touched her.

So perhaps she does know him. At least a little.

He rests his chin on his hand while he looks at her. “Hermes came with a message from your mother, demanding your return.” She doesn’t even have the time to panic before he continues, “I denied her. If she wishes to speak to me in person, I told her she is welcome to step into my realm herself.”

“She won’t do that,” Kore says, “She fears your realm. She fears how her power means nothing in your domain.”

Kore had never known her mother to fear anything – except the land of the dead. She’d grown up thinking Hades must be a hulking, formidable figure to pull fear from her mother’s breast, but that’s clearly not the case.

He smiles, and it’s the first hint of sharpness she’s seen from him. “I know. There will be consequences, of course. But those are my concern. You are a guest of my realm, Goddess of Spring. Walk where you please, and do as you please. No one will stop you.”

He’s already looking back down at his papers, eyebrows drawing together as he scratches out a series of numbers and rewrites them. It’s a clear dismissal, but Kore can’t bring herself to move.

She’s never met this man before. Yet he stands against her mother, yet he welcomes her to his realm, yet he permits unrestricted access to his home, yet he grants her every freedom he’s able.

“Thank you,” she says again. He gives an absent nod, already reaching for another scroll.

She leaves as quietly as she came.

Keep reading

Sentence starters
  • Based on famous text-posts
  • "Bro, you look so cute right now. Dude, you are so fucking adorable."
  • "Wanna watch this murder documentary with me?"
  • "I may act like I'm sassy but if you're mean to me there's a 900% chance I'll cry."
  • "I may act like I'm clueless but actually know what's going on at al times."
  • "ATTENTION: I need attention."
  • "I don't have a nervous system. I'm a nervous system."
  • "Drugs? No thanks, the only 'high' I need is the natural rush you get from commiting a murder."
  • "I think I'm subconsciously trying to ruin my own life."
  • "Why fall in love when you can fall on the floor and never get up?"
  • "I try not to sound like an asshole but it's really hard because I am an asshole."
  • "I don't want to look 'pretty', I want to look otherwordly and vaguely threatening."
  • "I'm the nicest, sweetest, most rage-filled person I know."
  • "Girls are so soft and amazing and nice and beautiful and mysterious and complex and loving and caring. I don't remember what I was going to say but I'm just gay."
  • "I'd love to relax but that's just not realistic."
  • "Contrary to popular belief I'm actually soft and have feelings."
  • "This could be less hetero."
  • "To be honest I just need a hug."
  • "Why can't I be mentally chill instead of mentally ill?"
  • "This is it, this is how I die: Lack of attention."
  • "Are we just friends or is this flirting serious?"
  • "I have this problem where I isolate myself from civilization and then get upset because I'm lonely."
  • "I may be ugly but at least I have an ugly personality too. Consistency is key."
  • "I don't wanna get involved in drama I just wanna know 103% of the information on what happened."
  • "I am bysexual as in I'm not interested, goodbye."
  • "I could win an Olympic gold medal in being ignored."
  • "Fill your heart with bees. If someone breaks your heart then they have to deal with the bees."
  • "I'm so tired of not being a multimillionaire."
  • "I panic alot of other places besides the disco."
  • "Which layer of hell do you think you're going to?"
  • "My kink is being right."
  • "My kink is being home alone."
  • "You're really sensitive for a selfish asshole."
  • "I can tell myself to be heartless but in all reality, I have a big heart and can't treat people badly, that's just not me."
  • "What about netflix and kill?"
  • "No offense but why does everyone hate me?"
  • "I'm a strong independent introvert who don't need no social life."
  • "Why do I get struggles instead of snuggles?"
  • "If a conversation goes on too long without being about me, I'm out."
  • "I'm small, queer and something to fear."
  • "All this sadness is bad for my skin."
  • "I'm cute and perfect but also unstable, violent and self-destructive"
  • "I'm beautiful and underappreciated."
  • "She's beauty, she's grace, she's me."
  • "Sorry for being awesome, loser."
  • "Is 'no' an emotion? Because I'm feeling it."

anonymous asked:

So Peggy starts the best bar fights? Elaborate, please.

oh man, those were the good old days. 

the howlies got in a lot of bar fights. you might think that the last thing a bunch of soldiers would want to do with their free time is fight people, but actually bar fights were a great stress relief. nobody really got seriously injured, and we tried to keep property damage to a minimum.  (and we also almost never started bar fights, for the record. most of the time it was guys from another unit who wanted to prove how badass they were by taking on the infamous howling commandos.) so bar fights themselves weren’t that unusual.

but peggy’s bar fights…oh, they were glorious. 

see, peggy never got in a fight for no reason; she was smarter than that. but when she did fight, it was truly beautiful. ive never seen a better right cross, before or since.

so one time we were on leave, sipping drinks in this english pub. the howlies were at the back table, enjoying a couple pitchers, while peggy was up at the bar, chatting with the barmaid. many of the bars and pubs back then had female bartenders–filling the gaps with the men off at war. and generally barmaids (which was what a female bartender was called back then) were the sort of girl pegs got along with–sensible, dependable, and not willing to take shit from any man. so she often enjoyed commiserating with the barmaids while we drank. she used to say she had to be free of us ‘charming gentlemen’ before she wound up blowing things up as erratically as we did. which was hurtful. our explosions were very intentional.
mostly.

so peggy got to chat about the best ways to hurl drunken idiots out doors and we got to ply steve with alcohol to see how much booze it would take to make him drunk. (tragically, we never found out.)

on this particular occasion, peggy was sitting at the bar when this mountain of a man came in. and i mean huge. thor-sized. like the hulk’s pinker younger brother. and with him came a dozen or so of his closest friends, all locals. (they may also have been poorly disguised orcs. im not sure, but i wouldn’t discount it as a possibility after seeing all the nonsense ive seen) the group of them made their way up to the bar, wedged their way in, and started harassing the barmaid. 

now, i don’t know what they said. peggy refused to repeat it. all i know is that one of the larger idiots said something stupid, laughed, and reached out to grope the barmaid. his hand made it about six inches from her chest when peggy’s fist broke his nose. he hit the floor like a tree falling, and the bar went quiet for a split second before one exceptionally suicidal idiot lunged at peggy.

everything went crazy. there were a good few dozen of us 107th guys in the bar, and all of us knew and adored pegs, so when the mountain-men went after her, every fine man of the 107th went after them. but it turned out that the locals defended their own, and we were pretty evenly matched for numbers. within seconds, everyone was throwing punches. bottles were thrown. dernier used a tablecloth to blind a man and threw him out a window. dumdum used one guy’s fists to hit another guy. i hurled bottlecaps at people’s eyeballs, because it’s fun.(im a sniper. we like distance) steve tried to wade through the chaos to get to peggy, but people kept punching him and then clutching their hands in agony, so he got kind of bogged down. 

at the bar, peggy was demonstrating exactly why she was the 107th’s darling–because she could put a grown man twice her size on the ground in two seconds flat. she knocked out six men; seven more promptly fell in love with her. 

as the chaos began to wind down, most of the locals had either been beaten down or fled, and only the mini-hulk and a couple others were left, brawling like berserkers. we were just about ready to turn steve loose on them when the barmaid handed peggy a stool. peggy took it, walked up behind where most of us howlies were still duking it out, and broke the stool over the big guy’s head. 

he went down hard. the rest of them surrendered out of terror. 

(and, possibly, they had also fallen prey to abruptly-in-love-with-peggy-carter syndrome. but really, who wasn’t?)

Borrowed Time

The series where Harry is mute

Part 1

Masterlist linked in bio


Y/n never went back home. Instead, she spends winter break in the confines of Harry’s apartment—wrapped up in between his bedsheets to keep warm.

The usually cold and brutal winter that always made their skin numb is now warm to them—skin always accompanied by one another’s and feeling more than ever before. And with the mix of never ending company and the feel of the music that always seems to be playing in his apartment, they couldn’t have asked for a better way to start off their relationship.

They never do anything extravagant—never do anything that could take time away from one another. It’s in their simplicity do they find a sense of comfort throughout the festive season. They feel happiest in their own little world—away from everything and everyone, just focusing on them being together without any distractions.

With being so consumed by one another, they’ve learned more about each other than ever before—spending most days watching their favorite movies and baking new recipes they found in Harry’s favorite Christmas cookbook and spending the nights cuddled up against one another as Y/n somehow finds new things to talk about.

Each day, they fall in love with each other all over again. It’s as if their hearts unravel and trap each other in—giving them no means of escape, but neither of them want to.

Whenever she spends the night at his apartment, Harry has to spend nearly an hour each morning just to fight her from getting out of bed. It’s become a routine, Harry having to pull her from the edge of the bed so that he can cradle her back in his arms while she giggles and mumbles some excuses he doesn’t have the energy to listen to.

He just really, really, really loves the feel of her first thing in the morning, especially when the brutal feel of the blistering winds finds its way to his apartment. She’s much warmer than usual and her eyes are brighter and always glistened against the sun. Her lips, too—they are always so much fuller somehow that even in his mild awareness, he finds himself kissing them before he finally lets her slip away from the comfort of the sheets.

But this morning—this morning is different.

After a Christmas night filled with passion and inexperienced intimacy, Harry really doesn’t want to let her go. He’d much rather feel her uncovered body up against his all morning—soaking each other up and holding one another until the sun sets into the night.

It just sounds so right, to keep each other near and close after giving each other their last bit of innocence. Everything they had to offer one another was taken and used to make them whole, so that’s how they should be—together and whole for as long as they possibly can.

But when Harry feels Y/n begin to stir her way out of his arms, he knows she has very different plans.

And he’s just not having it.

He whimpers in his slumbered state, pulling her back against his chest with eyes half-lidded and breathing still steady. He’s holding onto her like never before, refusing to feel her side of the bed empty. He needs her, her, her, anywhere and everywhere as long as it’s with him. And despite having every bit of her last night, he hasn’t gotten enough and he needs her more.

She giggles softly against his neck, gingerly kissing the exposed skin as her fingers run along his jaw. She can already feel him falling back asleep from her touch, a content sigh leaving his lips at their closeness.

“Love, I gotta get up. Y’know me, can’t stay in bed once I’m awake.”

He groans as he shakes his head, somehow filling up the smallest of empty spaces between them and tucking his head into her shoulder. His nose is right up against her skin and he can smell her usual scent—vanilla and lavender from her usual body wash but much more filthy than usual.

She giggles again when she feels his bottom lip poke at her shoulder, her fingers reaching to his hair as she combs through it.

“Oh, none of that, H.” She tisks, thumbing the very exaggerated pout on his lips. “I’ll be right downstairs, won’t be going anywhere far.”

He rolls his body off of her, his back hitting against the mattress with a whine. His eyes remain closed but there’s a very noticeable furrow between his brows, and Y/n begins to wonder what he’s so worried about.

She frowns down at him, observing the rise of his goosebumps from the morning cold on his bare chest. It looks empty and lifeless without her head upon it, and though his body is no stranger to her, there’s something about it that seems much more inviting and she yearns to keep it closer than ever.

And she gets it—she gets his exaggerated whining and the worry in his eyes. After everything that happened to them the night before, he can’t leave her—he can't—and that’s exactly what she’s doing to him, even if it’s only a floor away.

Almost as if to reassure him, she goes with the feel of her heart and decides to spend the next couple hours of the freezing morning right beside him.


Harry loves watching Y/n in her most natural hours.

Her chest and elbows are leaning against the surface of the kitchen counter, one hand holding a mug of coffee while the other flips the pages of her favorite poetry book. Her upper body is clad with Harry’s favorite sweatshirt—ending right at the end of her underwear—leaving her legs exposed and on full display for all of Harry to see.

Despite her hair fully knotted and having an overall disheveled look to her, Harry decides that she looks best this way—in a way nobody other than him has gotten the chance to see—as if she was made for his eyes only.

And he has never seen such a beautiful sight in his life as she looks at him with the softest and most delicate of eyes, a small smile resting on her lips at his presence. Every bit of her looks inviting—like a place of comfort Harry could forever shield himself in.

She’s become so much more than his girlfriend—so much more than someone to call his own—she’s become his muse and his home, his haven and everything in between.

“You always look at me with longing even when I’m right here with you.”

He blinks at her, watching as her cheeks flush with pink under the watch of his amused eyes, loving how easily tranced he becomes in her.

She’s never been confident in herself. Ever since she was a little girl, she used her friendliness to somehow distract people from what she truly felt on the inside. She never truly touched base with her insecurities and never wanted to, so she always found ways to push the most damaging thoughts in the back of her head.

But Harry changed everything. He made her feel beautiful and loved in every way possible, she almost doesn’t understand how he could have so much of that love in him—especially for her. From the way he holds her all throughout the night to the small kisses and gestures whenever he has the chance, she feels it everywhere and she almost feels it in herself.

His sheepish smile confirms her statement, knowing fully that there will never be a moment he doesn’t want her, no matter where she is.

He walks slowly over to her, the smile never fading from his lips and the blush creeping back to Y/n’s cheeks as she turns her body to stretch her arms out at him. It’s the smallest moments like this that make them grateful for the kind of love they share—together.

He presses his lips to hers tenderly when he feels her fingers run across his stomach, his own fingers pushing the material of his sweatshirt up towards her breasts so that he can brush against the swell of them.

“Beautiful.” He whispers, quickly returning back to her lips as they softly release a whimper from the detachment.

She tastes so good—a mix of bitter and sweet from her coffee, leaving his mouth wanting more and more with each passing second. And what was supposed to be innocent turned to lust before they knew it—their movements much more haste and impatient.

In the midst of their desperation, Harry pushes her hips further against the edge of the counter, fingers digging into her skin as his mouth parts open with hers. They both moan into one another, completely consumed by the feeling of their relentless hands and feverish kisses.

Her hands are against his stomach, rubbing along his torso when he hitches her legs around his waist, leaving Harry in control of whatever it is that’s unfolding. Her squeal turns into a moan when his hips collide with hers, the friction making her head spin and body yearn for more.

He feels her hands creep toward the waistband of his sweatpants while his hands bundle up the sweatshirt over her breasts so that they’re fully exposed to him—revealing the most delicate parts of her.

And right as his lips attach to the valley of them, the ringing of the telephone breaks them from their moment.

“H—Harry, the phone.” Y/n gasps.

But he shows no sign of stopping when his teeth sink into an already bruised hickie from the night before, leaving her with shaking fingers between his hair and withering from the soreness. And he really can’t stop, because she feels like no other and she’s so addicting in every way possible. He wants her all to himself.

The answering machine almost dissolves into pure background noise for the both of them, too caught up in the moment.

“Hi, Harry, it’s your mum.”

Only five words and Harry feels the air being knocked right out of his lungs—seizing all his movements and thoughts as Y/n is left completely confused and panting upon the kitchen counter.

"I know it’s been a while and a lot has ended quite messy, but your father does miss you and well—we all miss you, Harry. We would really love for you to come over for dinner tonight as a late Christmas celebration. You don’t have to, but we’ll have an extra seat for you. And—uh—I love you so much. I wish you the best. Please call me soon.”

It’s as if the world around him is spinning faster than ever before—his brain overwhelmed with scrambled thoughts and ears ringing from the anxiety.

There would have been nothing to prepare him for this moment. He never thought he’d ever see his father again—much less be invited back over to his house after everything that’s happened. It’s been so long, he genuinely thought it was over—he thought all of the pain and fear was over, but his biggest nightmare is coming to life and he feels sick to his stomach.

His father is why he’s like this—mute and anxious in social situations. If his dad hadn’t repeatedly torn him down for never being good enough—hadn’t made him believe nobody would ever talk to a little shy boy—he would have probably gained the confidence to speak the more he matured.

But because his father shunned him for being shy and never making any friends, Harry was terrified of what people would think of him if he ever did make friends. Because if his own father didn’t love him, how could anybody else?

Y/n notices the tears in his eyes and his shallow breathing, which she’s quick to mend when her hands reach up to his cheeks. They’re hot and flushed, but all for the wrong reasons.

She frowns, lips peppering small kisses along his face in an attempt to bring him back to her. She doesn’t know much—or really anything—about Harry’s family life; all she knows is that she has never seen a picture of them in his house or any validation that he ever truly had one.

But as she catches the glimpse of fear in his eyes and the small quivering of his lips, he knows very well that there must have been something that went wrong. And even if she doesn’t know what it is that he went through, she knows that if he decides to do this or not, she’ll be right there with him.

“You’re scared.” She whispers, thumbs rubbing against his cheeks softly. “What is it you’re afraid of, baby? Talk to me, please.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, his lips pursing together as loose tears fall from his eyes.

He’s never talked about his family problems and because all of this has happened so quickly, his words get trapped in his throat. To genuinely talk about his family and come to terms with his emotions seems all too much for him, especially when it’s hard for him to speak in the first place.

Y/n clicks her tongue while shaking her head softly, wrapping her around his neck as he nests his cheek into her shoulder. His muscles instantly relax in her arms and has a sense of clarity in her comfort, but there’s still an undeniable thumping in his chest that just can’t seem to go away.

“You don’t have to talk about this, love, but maybe this will be good for you. You know, to test the waters with your family. Maybe this could help you in the long run.”

And he wants to believe her—he really, really fucking wants to believe her—but he knows he can’t. Anywhere in his father’s path is detrimental to Harry’s social anxiety and he knows it’ll only make this worse for him in the long run.

“Y/n.” Harry groans, detaching her arms from his neck so that he can stand properly. His teeth are grit and eyes are distant—looking anywhere but her own and he swallows thickly around his words. “There’s a reason I don’t talk to anybody.”

His words are cracked and desperate—like a plea for Y/n to understand that this is different, that there will never be a day he’ll be able to face his problems. There have been too many times he’s found his way back and he always walks away with a damaged heart.

Y/n watches the way his fingers fiddle around one another and how he can’t stand still, it’s like watching the battle in Harry’s head and watching him fall apart from it.

And no matter how much she loves him now—the way he is now, even without much speaking—she doesn’t want to watch him suffer for the rest of his life. He’s the most undeserving man, he deserves the world and she knows he does.

His heart is nothing but pure and damaged—in need of mending and love. It’s the best part of him, really. It’s what brought them together and she feels the need to protect it at all costs.

He doesn’t feel it, though. He doesn’t feel what his heart has to offer and doesn’t see how it makes him so strong. He only sees himself as a ruin—a lost cause with nothing left to fight for, and he doesn’t deserve it. After what he’s been through, she needs him to understand that he is so much more than he thinks he is.

Because he is—he really is—no matter what he believes.

She holds his head in her hands to distract him from his consuming thoughts. His eyes shift in her gaze as he lets out a small breath.

“I just think it’ll be best to try again. I know—I see how hard it is for you to live the way that you do and I want to be here for you through everything. Things could be different this time—things could actually end well and you might be able to push through this. Because I know you, Harry, more than anybody else right now and I know you can push through this.”

She presses her forehead against his with a sigh leaving her lips, her thumbs running along his knuckles.

“And if there is any point you feel uncomfortable or upset, we can walk right out and leave. Just know that I will be there for you no matter what, okay? Just asking for you to try.”

It’s because she sounds so sure of herself that Harry actually agrees to go to the dinner. He knows that if it were a matter of him going alone, he would never even consider it. But knowing she is going to be right by his side—holding his hand through it all—maybe he doesn’t have to be so scared.

Maybe, it’ll actually be different this time.


It’s not different.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, it’s really not any different than he expected it to be.

Upon their arrival, Harry’s mum and sister nearly fainted from seeing him at the front door. They thought their invitation would go dismissed, like the way Harry’s ignored them for the past three years. But looking at him for the first time in what felt like forever, they were nothing short of thrilled.

And to make it even better, he brought a girl. Harry was holding her hand tightly, keeping her tucked right into his side so that he could feel her with every step he took.

Anne and Gemma swore they had never seen something so heartwarming in their life—to the point where tears sprung from their eyes and arms flinging around their bodies. Y/n didn’t even have to introduce herself properly for them to love and approve of her, anybody who gets Harry to open up—in any way possible—is enough for them.

He was calm when it was just the four of them, Harry watching Y/n hit it off with his family so effortlessly. He noticed the fondness in all their eyes and this was how he wanted it to be forever.

But once they sat down for dinner, Harry knew something was about to happen.

His father didn’t acknowledge neither him nor Y/n in the slightest. Instead, he acted as if they weren’t there and only carried conversations with the rest of his family. And Harry wasn’t sure if he preferred it that way or not—wasn’t sure if he’d rather have his father at least notice him and hate him or have his father neglect him.

Y/n was trying to make the best out of the situation and he could tell. She found her way to the conversations even if his father didn’t respond to her, and still remained her perky self while doing so. She seemed unfazed through it all, almost like she didn’t feel the overwhelming amount of tension that surrounded the room.

She does it for him, though. She knew that if she showed just how uncomfortable his father was making her—he’d never be able to survive this dinner. She had to play strong enough for his sake.

But now that dinner has passed by and all that’s left are empty plates of food and mindless mingling, Harry feels nothing short of uncomfortable and misplaced under his father’s glare. It’s as if he’s waiting for Harry to speak out in the conversation, or do much of anything to make his presence known.

Y/n can see the soft shaking of Harry’s head and can feel the sweat on his palms with each passing second—just waiting for the end of the night so that they can go home and be alone at last.

“You know, Y/n, I never thought Harry would have a girlfriend.”

It’s the first time tonight his father spoke to Y/n directly, making the conversation she was having with Gemma come to a pause as she looked over at him with confusion. There’s a small pout on her lips as she tilts her head in question, almost unsure as to what he was implying. He has no expression on his face, only a small scoff and disapproving look in his eyes.

“How so? He’s lovely, any girl would be very lucky to have him. I’m just happy it’s me who does.”

Her fingers squeeze his thigh under the tablecloth; as if to tell him that there’s nothing to worry about. If his father wants to try hard enough to get to Harry, he has to try to get through her, first.

His father grumbles, his eyes shifting away from hers. The tenseness is his body seems to lighten, though, when an almost sadistic laugh falls from his lips—finding whatever he’s thinking quite amusing and entertaining.

“Isn’t it disheartening? Doesn’t it get boring, to be with a little boy who can’t even get his mouth to open? You seem to be a very intelligent, mature lady—I can tell by the way you talk. Don’t you think it’s a man’s purpose to be with somebody like you?”

Harry squeezes his eyes shut, trying to silence the sudden voices in his head and focus on the feel of Y/n’s tightening hand.

All the childhood fights, all the times Harry had crawled underneath his bed during the night to get away from it all, and all the times Harry almost had the guts to speak up for himself only to be shut down from his father are all replaying in Harry’s head.

The anxiety creeps to his bones and in his muscles, straining him of all that’s left of his strength and leaving him with nothing but a shaking body and lack of control. Every part of him that felt alive before all of this is slowly dying at the seems—ready to be ripped out on his father’s account.

In any other situation, Y/n would have kept her mouth shut if it meant getting the support and approval of Harry’s family. But this—the way he’s talking about Harry as if he’s not right next to her, disrespecting him for something beyond his control is just not okay with her.

She’d rather stand up for the man she loves and believes in instead of watching him suffer in silence—the way his mum and sister are—with fear.

“Harry may not be a man of many words, but he’s the best thing I’ve got. There is so much more to him than his voice. There is so much more to him than you will ever know because you decided to be a shit father and give up on him without giving him a chance. He holds so much more potential than you could ever see, and that’s what’s wrong here. Harry’s not the problem, him being mute is not the problem, it’s you. Because why is it that everybody else can accept him and love him for who he is besides you?!”

The aftermath of her words silences everything around them. Nobody moves, nobody dares makes a sound besides their harsh breathing, because there could be something that makes either one of them snap and nobody wants to be the one to do so.

Y/n’s hands are in fists upon the table, eyes locked with his in fury and jaw so tight she almost doesn’t even look like herself. She’s turned into an entirely different woman with just the thought of Harry getting into harm’s way.

And although Harry really wants to show her appreciation for her words, he’s too panicked that he’s going to die from not being able to fucking breathe.

The silence is overwhelming, but Y/n is not giving up on him—on Harry. He had to live through this for far too long and she’s not allowing it anymore. He deserves better than this treatment—deserves better than to be looked down upon by somebody who’s supposed to be his provider.

“He’s the best thing you’ve got, yeah?”

His father is playing with his bottom lip, eyes narrowed and eyes in the same unpleasant manner as before. His voice is softer, though, more understanding than before and they both don’t know what to expect out of the conversation.

Y/n nods without hesitation, “He is.”

He watches as Y/n looks more determined and positive as ever, not a doubt or a trace of a lie in her features.

She means it—with her whole heart—she means it and she’ll never let anybody make her go back on her word. And she doesn’t have to say it twice, because Harry knows she’s genuine when she says it.

“You must have a very pathetic life, then.”

Harry’s eyes don’t move from their trance on the table—his body doesn’t make a move under his words. This is just how it always ends, and he just don’t know why he still fucking comes back here every goddamn time.

His throat is tight and his eyes are filled with tears. His skin is full of sweat and he swears his heart is beating much faster than it should. And even though he’s experienced this all before, knowing Y/n is being belittled by his father too makes it worse.

"We’re done here.” Y/n says sternly, grabbing ahold of Harry’s hand.

Y/n could have stood up for Harry much more, but she knew that if she started an even bigger brawl than what was already unfolding, Harry wouldn’t have been able to handle it.

He’s already drained of color and crying silently within his lost mind, and she’s absolutely terrified for his health.

She’s nearly dragging him out the door, Harry occasionally tripping over his own feet as he’s being drowned with the voices and the thumping in his chest. The world around him seems to be drowning and he can’t keep up with it all.

He just can’t.

“You can’t only keep her around because she’s the only one that’ll fight your battles for you, Harry! It’s only a matter of time before she realizes that you have nothing to offer her! You can’t give her anything with the way you are. You’re worthless!”

Before he could spew any more insults in Harry’s way, Y/n shuts the door in his face.


Harry knows his father was right.

In the long run, he doesn’t have much to offer her. He can’t be the boyfriend that she deserves to have.

He can’t be the boyfriend that can remind her of how much she’s loved or cared for. He can’t be the boyfriend to sing her to sleep whenever she can’t, or be the boyfriend to say his vows at their wedding for all to hear. He can’t be the boyfriend that—God forbid something were to happen to her—can ask for somebody to help her, or be the boyfriend to sway her family’s heart.

He can’t be anything to her besides somebody that she can sleep with at night and wake up to in the morning. Because that’s all it will be, and she’ll get so tired of being the one to be the only one talking to the other.

He’s nothing in her life, and that’s exactly why he can’t look at her anymore.

“Can you please just say something to me, Harry? I need to know why you’re upset with me or else we can never work through this.”

But how can they work through this when he can’t talk to her the way she wants him to?

Instead of answering right away, Harry presses on the gas pedal even harder than before. In the mix of all his emotions—anger, frustration, sad, and absolutely terrified—the only proper thought that can retain in Harry’s mind is dropping Y/n back to her apartment so that she doesn’t have to keep torturing herself with him.

The longer he feels her presence next to him, the more he realizes that he can’t love her the way she deserves to be loved—even if he really, really, really does love her with every ounce of his being.

“It was only—“ He swallows thickly, “It was only a matter of time before this was going to happen, Y/n.”

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion as she turns her head over to Harry, who has his lips pursed in a straight line while his eyes remain on the road.

There’s something different in him, now—something unreadable in his expressions and it’s something she’s never seen before. He seems broken somehow, like a man who’s been damaged one too many times that he’s become numb—emotionless with nothing left to feel.

“Before what was going to happen, Harry?”

She has an idea about what his words meant, but she doesn’t want to believe it. Not coming from him—not coming from the man who’s shown her nothing but how much love he has for her. There’s no way he could be doing this to her. He can’t do this to her.

“We were never going to last, Y/n. This was over long ago, we’re just on borrowed time.”

Borrowed time.

The sound of it leaves an unusually disturbing churn in Y/n’s stomach and a foul taste in her mouth. She feels as though Harry is taking his own hand and digging into Y/n’s chest, just so that he can grab ahold of Y/n’s heart and rip it to shreds himself.

Her hand subconsciously grabs onto the handle of the car door, eyes glistening with tears and lungs not daring to breathe. The air—instead of it being filled with their love—is now thicker and colder than ever.

She’s never been so confused—so lead on and so scared as to what is happening to them. They were supposed to make this last, they were supposed to make each other happy for the rest of their lives. He promised her he would, too—promised her nothing but love and trust in him.

But what is happening to them?

“How long have you thought that?”

She was tentative to ask, but she just has to know. She has to know if she’s done everything she’s done for nothing or if it actually held some sort of purpose at the time.

She’s terrified beyond words to find out the answer.

“Before or after you decided to sleep with me?”

Harry doesn’t want to make it seem like he never wanted this—never wanted her. He doesn’t want to make her think that he went through all that he did with her just to expect them to break up so soon. Because he didn’t, he never did. He would have never let her give him her virginity if he knew all of this was going to happen.

He loves her too much to do that to her, but also loves her enough to set her free.

So he decides to not answer her because not saying anything at all is easier for him than saying something he doesn’t mean. And he knows he will if it means letting her go and letting her move onto bigger and better things.

And it’s in his silence and twitch of his eyes does she find his answer.

“So you didn’t mean what you said last night. That we fit perfectly—that it’s like we’re meant to be? Or were they just words to you?”

A sob rips from inside of her when he still gives her nothing. She has never felt so hurt before—has never felt so betrayed. And suddenly, her skin feels dirty—sickened by what he’s done to her and how she could have been so stupid as to let it happen.

She feels it now, too. She feels the way his hands touched her that night, the way his lips kissed her that night, the way his hips rutted against hers and she feels so fucking filthy—used and used and used just for his own personal gain.

“Stop the car.”

It’s a weak demand, but Harry is pained to hear it. He has to hold himself back from comforting her and saying how terribly sorry he is for lying to her the way he is. But it’s just easier this way.

“I said stop the fucking car, Harry!”

Her yelling makes him flinch, and without hesitation makes him pull over to the side of the road. And the second he does so, he knows he shouldn’t have because he’d never be able to live with himself if he let Y/n walk in the cold alone, especially at night.

And right as he’s about to turn back, the sound of her hysteria makes his stop everything he’s doing. Her sobs are relentless in her hands and the thickest of tears fall from Harry’s eyes when he looks at the damage he’s done.

She looks helpless and utterly destroyed—he would have never thought of doing this to her if he’d known this is what would come out of it.

His heart is breaking at the sight of her like this.

As if on instinct, Harry reaches his hand over to her shoulder in an attempt to keep her calm. And even when they’re so close, they have never felt more emotionally distant than they do right now.

“No! Don’t touch me! Don’t you ever touch me again!”

She isn’t sure if she means it or not, but the devastating look Harry gives her at her words proves that he knows she did.

The second his touch leaves hers, he feels them falling apart.

It really is over now.

She’s never felt more pathetic and humiliated in her life. Everything she thought was so real ended up being one of the biggest lies she’s ever lived. He had her fooled for months now and she had not a single clue—but she guesses that’s what happens when she falls in love too quickly.

She feels easy.

She swallows her cries as she opens the car door, not knowing where the hell she is or where the hell she’s going, but knowing that no matter where she ends up, it’ll be much better than being with him. 

“I hate you. I never want to see you again, not after this. Not after all that you’ve done to me.”

Harry’s eyes widen at her words, mouth falling open and a gasp falling from his lips. The reality of her words hits him with so much force that he genuinely feels every last bit of him fall apart.

And it’s when she walks away from him—from his life—that he breaks.

He chokes out a sob as his fingers grip the steering wheel, eyes as wide as ever and mouth not daring to shut.

Everything hurts. Every bone in his body feels like it’s breaking and every muscle feels like they’re tearing apart. It hurts so fucking much and Harry can’t stop crying, throwing his head back against the car seat as his hand hits the steering wheel in the midst of his hysteria.

She hates him.

But it’s better this way.

who in their right FUCKING MIND thought it was a good idea to design and create KYLO MOTHERFUCKING REN? a tragic backstory, wears ALL BLACK ALL THE TIME, cries when confronted with murder, and fuckin’ relentlessly makes snarky comments in inappropriate situations? this punk bitch is not even CLOSE to being a punk bitch, either, with his stupid ass cool ass fucking lightsaber that crackles as a physical representation of his instability and his goddamn helmet that he doesn’t even NEED to wear and only takes it off when confronted about it (that motherfucker probably doesn’t even like it, just wants to be cool). he fuckin’ gets shot by chewie’s ‘this shit took down a fucking vehicle with explosions and shit’ crossbow and STANDS THE FUCK BACK UP LIKE SOMEONE MERELY BRUSHED PAST HIM IN THE HALLWAY. WHAT THE FUCK? WHO IS HE? SOME FUCKING GOD? NO, BUT HE’S A GODDAMN FORCE SENSITIVE AND FUCKIN HELD A BLASTER SHOT IN PLACE FOR ONE MINUTE AND 29 SECONDS, ALL WHILE DEALING WITH POE DAMERON, FORMER CHILDHOOD FRIEND. EMOTIONAL ROLLERCOASTER, RIGHT? WRONG. MY GUY KYLO BARELY GIVES HIM TIME TO SPEAK. LATER CHEWIE SHOOTS HIM IN THE GUT AND THEN THIS SHITTY FUCKING BYRONIC HERO PROCEEDS TO CHASE A SCAVENGER AND A DEFECTED STORMTROOPER INTO THE GODDAMN WOODS AND FIGHTS THEM FOR LONGER THAN A NORMAL PERSON WOULD HAVE LIVED AFTER AN EXPLOSIVE HIT THEM IN THE LIVER. BUT OKAY DUDE, WHATEVER REN. DO YOUR THING. FUCKIN RISK DEATH FOR A MAP YOU COULD’VE GOTTEN WHILE REY WAS ASLEEP. BUT WHATEVER. YOU JUST HAVE TO BE A GENTLEMAN AND ALL, LETTING HER WAKE UP OF HER OWN ACCORD, TAKING YOUR FUCKING MASK OFF FOR HER, SPEAKING BARELY ABOVE A WHISPER, TELLING HER THAT ‘IT HURTS YOU TO HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY’ AND THAT YOU’LL ‘GO AS GENTLY AS POSSIBLE.’ EVEN THOUGH YOU KNOW, YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE A DARK SIDER AND ALL. WHY NOT JUST TERRORIZE HER AND NEARLY KILL HER LIKE YOU DID TO POE? KNOW WHY? BECAUSE SHE MAKES HIS INSIDES MELT, THAT’S WHY. AND JUST BECAUSE THIS HOOLIGAN HAS COMPASSION FOR THE GIRL DOESN’T MEAN HE IS ANY LESS OF A BADASS. IT MAKES HIM EVEN BETTER, KNOWING THAT HE’S CAPABLE OF FIGHTING WITH HIS SPUTTERING, DANGEROUS AF FIRE-SWORD AGAINST TWO PEOPLE INEXPERIENCED IN ANY SORT OF ‘CLASSICAL BATTLE TACTIC’ AND STILL ABLE TO, Y’KNOW, FEEL THINGS AND SHOW THAT HE’S A PERSON. HE’S SO EXTRA AND THROWS HIMSELF INTO UNNECESSARY DANGER FOR THE HELL OF IT, ALL THE WHILE LOOKING FLY AS FUCK WITH HIS FLOOFY-ASS FUCKING HAIR AND HIS BLACK ROBES, LOOKING LIKE SOME DARK PRINCE. (on a more serious note, poor kylo fucking hates himself and his life so much that i’m pretty sure he wouldn’t care if he died, thus why he doesn’t care when he’s in such situations. he’s miserable. he ‘wants to be free of this pain’ and all.) BUT HE’S HARDCORE, DUDE. AND HE’S FULL OF SO MUCH SNARK AND SALT ALL THE TIME, DISHING OUT INSULT AFTER SARCASTIC INSULT TO HUX AND FINN AND POE AND IT’S ABSOLUTELY SOMETHING A SOLO/SKYWALKER WOULD DO. 

I FUCKING LOVE KYLO REN.

so who thought it was cool to create him, a fuckin’ lightsaber-wielding, sharp-tongued, unpredictable, angst-filled Mr. Darcy and put him in the midst of ‘pride and prejudice: in space’? i want to know so i can punch you in the throat and kiss you on the mouth.

In Regards to Hate: On Victuuri

I don’t know what suddenly happened again but there’s a shitton of hate for Victuuri/Viktuuri(/etc) in the tags lately. People are welcome to feel however they want for a particular ship, but I just wanted to give my two cents by tackling the common complaints I’ve seen. I’ll start from the beginning so I’ll be addressing basically all the arguments against this ship I’ve seen so far. I’ve tried to maintain some sort of order for these, but honestly I just winged it at some point.  A lot of these arguments are also heavily character-based, so keep in mind that I’ll be deconstructing several scenes as well as character motivations as I go.  (As a note, this assumes you’ve seen the whole show. Also, I’m only using canon evidence from the show itself.)

This is like an informal follow-up to my super old post but also not really.

No I’m not avoiding work why would you say that.

WARNING: This is a massive post/wall of text. Grab popcorn.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Fine! If we can't talk about Clyde ruining Tweeks love confession and Craig ignoring that fact, why don't we talk about the BROTP. Craig, why haven't you been hanging out with Clyde? He's a sad boi.

CRAIG: What?

CRAIG: Dude I got trapped in the mountains with him yesterday, AND we had a sleep over a couple hours later.

CRAIG: And the day before that I was hanging out at his house, too.

CRAIG: Uh, he blogged all of it?

CRAIG: Clyde, are you actually sad or are these people just fucking with you?

CLYDE: [sssssighhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhghghghfhg]

CLYDE: No… they’re right.

CLYDE: I was sad today because you didn’t want to hang out.

CRAIG: Well I was sorta busy?

CLYDE: Yeah, but you didn’t say why. 

CRAIG: I didn’t think you wanted to know why that badly.

CLYDE: Yeah, but… lately you’ve been hanging out with Tweek way more than you have with me and it’s bringing me to major bummed out town, not gonna lie.

CRAIG: But… we’re hanging out now?

CLYDE: Yeah but… but…

CLYDE: I feel like I’m losing you as a BFF, bro…

CLYDE: We used to hang out so much and I guess I’m just getting emotional today, b-because we hung out so much in the last few days and I thought maybe we’d start hanging out a whole bunch again but then– then you said you were busy and didn’t even tell me why, and then you started posting pictures of you and Tweek hanging out and having fun and, and–

CLYDE: It hurt my feelinggggggggggggs…

CRAIG: Is this why you tried to beat up Tweek? Jesus christ, dude!

CLYDE: No I know it was soooo dumb and I’m a huge jerk but I thought it was a great idea when I did it cause… cause I don’t really know why but, but…

CRAIG: Dude.

CLYDE: [sniffle] What, dude?

CRAIG: I didn’t mean to make you feel like you were being shoved away.

CRAIG: I’ve just needed to make time for more than just you. Cause, hate to break it to you dude, but dating someone kind of means you have to hang out with them at least sometimes.

CLYDE: Why couldn’t you j-just tell me you were hanging– hanging out with Tweek today, then, bro…? :(

CRAIG: ‘Cause I didn’t think you were interested in hearing about that kind of shit, dude!

CRAIG: Like, do you know how lame it is to talk about your boyfriend to your best friend all the time?

CRAIG: Especially when it’s your gay boyfriend!

CRAIG: That’s like, super gay!

CLYDE: It is…

CRAIG: You’re still my best friend, dude. Nothing’s changed.

CLYDE: B-bro…

CRAIG: Here, come on dude. Let’s hug it out. I know how much you like hugs.

CLYDE: Bro, I do like hugs, bro!

CRAIG: God, you’re such a crybaby.

CLYDE: [sniffle] F-fuck you. I love you dude.

CRAIG: I love you too dude.

CRAIG: Come on, I think my mom’s just about here. She can take you home so you don’t have to walk in the dark with no shirt on.

CRAIG: Still don’t know why you took it off in the first place.

anonymous asked:

Theory: Chloe redemption would be so distinctly ~her~ that as much as she enjoys fighting akumas with LB, a girl just can't leave her hair and nails undone! So Chloe would just be so tired of her appointments being cancelled by akuma attacks. . .

… She just learns to keep quiet so she could actually make it to a manicure because, girl, fighting super villains takes a TOLL, and … Yea …

see that’s the kind of redemption arc i want. chloe becomes a hero, but she is still so completely chloe. i love that idea up there xD

  • like chloe would be a fucking brutal, bad ass superhero and put her heart and soul into the fight but god forbid she breaks a nail 
    • queen bee: *kicking an akuma’s ass* *suddenly stops and screams in horror*
    • ladybug: oh my god, are you okay?
    • queen bee: NO im not okay i just chipped my fucking manicure
  • she always asks the team if they can reschedule patrols that don’t happen during the new episodes of “the bachelor”
    • “i can’t be behind im gonna get spoiled on twitter and i’ll fucking kill someone if that happens”
  • she’ll purposefully get someone really angry and hope they get akumatized so that her test next period will be cancelled
    • marinette keeps trying to explain why she can’t be doing that but chloe doesn’t get it
    • “we learn more about hawkmoth, another civilian is saved, and i have an extra 24 hours to study for math. find me one flaw with this.”
  • she tries to sneakily drop hints to her father that queen bee and volpina should get a statue too
    • “you know. not that i care or anything. just for….symmetry. and accuracy and all that. got some preliminary sketches of the queen bee statue. again. not that i care or anything”
    • “very important to get the nose right daddy don’t mess that up.”
  • post-reveal situation, chloe’s is hands down the best at coming up with believable covers for her teammates 
    • adrien’s taking forever to recharge his kwami and get back to class and the teacher’s wondering where he is
    • chloe: “the poor darling’s been modeling so much lately that he pulled a muscle in his neck after gym classes, really awful business, he was in the nurse’s office during the entire akuma attack, he should be on his way back.”
      • chloe *texting adrien*: there’s a forged nurse’s slip in the boys bathroom, go get it. also, walk in like you have a stiff neck. don’t ask. just do it. 
  • she low-key supports chat’s idea of having a miraculous hide out for the four of them
    • “daddy knows a guy that can make it happen with no questions asked i just need to make the phone call.”
  • she flat out refuses press interviews unless she has a full face of makeup on
    • “queen bee! an interview for the – ”
    • “darlings, i really would, but it’s seven in the morning, i have no concealer on, and there’s no way im appearing on camera. go talk to ladybug.”