in fact i think i might have to write this

“did he break your heart?”

“no, i don’t think so,” she answers, but she sounds uncertain. the question’s made her reconsider.

after a moment, she says, “he hurt me. there’s no use in denying that.”

he looks at her. “how badly?”

she shrugs, looks down at her shoes. “enough to make me cry. enough… just enough. he hurt me enough.”

he blinks, and rolls a lighter between his fingers. he’s not a smoker, but she is, and he thought he would give it to her, maybe. just to try and get through to her. “did you love him?”

she laughs at this, and tucks her knees into her chest, “nah, not even close.” she sighs, “i could have though, i think.” her eyes darken, “if he’d given me the chance to.”

he’s unsure of how to respond, so he hands her the lighter. “it’s for you,” he mumbles, and she smiles for a fleeting second, takes it from his grasp, and then hands it back.

“no thanks,” she says, and then explains, “i’m trying to quit. i wanna go somewhere, live a long time. can’t do that if i smoke, ya know?”

“yeah, i know, i just thought–”

she squeezes his hand, “i know what you thought, and it’s sweet. you’re sweet.”

he smiles, and for a moment, she smiles back at him. then it slides off her face, and he waits for her to speak.

“it just, it just sucks getting fucked over, ya know?” she runs a hand through her hair, “like, he was so important. it wasn’t that i wanted to date him or any of that, but he was just important. he used to say that i was important too, and that’s what hurts the most, i think. the fact that he just randomly decided that i wasn’t anymore.”

he opens his mouth, but she keeps going. “so i guess, in a way, he might have broken my heart. not enough for me to feel it for a long time, but just enough to remind me that he meant something to me and he fucking walked away.”

“he hurt you enough,” he echoes her previous words.

“yeah, yeah,” she wipes a tear away with the palm of her hand, “he hurt me enough.”

—  “excerpts from a book i’ll never write #2” -c.h. // Instagram: @evanescent.love (via @poeticaffinity)
3

Alright, HERE we go! Awhile ago I had an idea for a MP100/Voltron crossover, and after mentioning it to @x-i-l-verify​ and loooots of brainstorming later, we have…*gestures vaguely* this. These are more or less screenshot redraws just to kind of get across who is who. :) More info, reasonings and musings under the cut, because well…it got long…

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Fantastic Beasts Headcanon:

Newt would have made an excellent Slytherin.

There are countless reasons why our favorite Magizoologist is perfect for Hufflepuff house.  However, I think it would have been almost as easy to place him in Slytherin. 

Yes, he is unconditionally kind and gentle, but he will also bend most rules to get what he wants.  He’s ambitious to the extreme- willing to go to new countries and continents, and break countless laws just to set one creature free.  Despite his social awkwardness, he has no problem lying about his case to muggles and wizards alike to keep his beasts safe from harm.  He’s cunning, despite his outward appearance.

When Graves confronts Tina in the Wand Permit Office and asks to see inside Newt’s case for a look at the creature she brought him in for, we see that little side glance from Newt.  It looks like nerves.  But let’s back up a bit.

This is the case that Newton Scamander has spent his entire career on.  Every creature he adores is inside of it.  Does it really seem plausible that he wouldn’t realize it had been switched for another?  No.

So.

Newt knew that Jacob had taken the wrong case when he escaped.  Newt made to follow, but was apprehended by Tina.  When he realized just what he was being taken in for, it made much more sense to follow along quietly, pretend the muggle’s case had been his all along, and track down Jacob later rather than admit to having an entire menagerie of dangerous creatures on his person. 

In fact, Newt displays most of the tributes Salazar Slytherin himself valued most in students- cleverness, resourcefulness, and a large disregard for rules.  I definitely think that Newt belongs in Hufflepuff, but when you look at it from a different angle, it isn’t so hard to see why one of his closest friends from Hogwarts was very likely a Slytherin herself.   

nekocookiechan  asked:

Has no one asked for a story of Hawkmoth and chat noir being a team with ladybug being the villian? It would be pretty amazing to see a father son duo with ladynoir fight scenes. Hawkmoth could send out some assistance for his son.

No, from I knowledge no. And given I like this, here have a oneshot. Also, I’m soooo sorry, this had been in my inbox for over a week, but I was caught with school and had no drive to write anything at all >.> Also I feel like I made Marinette maybe a little to mean in this oops.


Chat didn’t hate Coccinelle. In fact, Chat didn’t hate anybody, not even the ladybug themed thief. But she was annoying him, exasperating him and he certainly had a dislike for his supposed to be partner. Or so he kept telling himself. But more often than not he wondered how would it be if the situation was somehow different. If they were partners like they were meant to be. But whatever alternative universes he might have been thinking off, were kicked out of him. Quite literally. He stumbled back, losing his equilibrium because of her hit. Goddamit, she had good legs.

(In more senses than one, but it wasn’t appropriate for him to think about that.)

The champion of the day appeared in front of Chat guarding him from the next attack. This one wasn’t his father’s best work, but isn’t like people lingered around museums in the dead of the night. The keeper of the museum was the only possible champion around and he wasn’t exactly eager to jump in the fight first thought.

“Oh, I’m not in the mood to deal with you. Can’t you two just chill and let me keep the dress?” she asked, in an almost bored tone, dodging the hits of the akuma easily.

“Why do you want it anyway? Isn’t like you can wear it.” Chat asked finally picking himself off the ground. Seriously now, the dress was a collectible, the first model of the little black dress created by Coco Chanel. That thing was almost 90 years old and extremely fragile. Isn’t like she could wear it at a party.

“Not all dresses are for wearing, you know. A rare piece sometimes just gives you happiness by simply looking at his.” she gave the champion a once over and scrunched up her nose. “Not that I’d expect you to understand.”

The temporary superhero, stopped dead in his tracks and Adrien could have sworn he just heard his father scream in indignation from the other side of Paris. Rolling her eyes, Coccinelle sighed, obviously bored by the entire ordeal.

“Oh, well, it isn’t you I want to play with.” and with that she round kicked the champion, sending him flying down four flight of stairs. Adrien winched. That must have hurt.

Coccinelle turned to him with a smirk, curling her index finger in a come to me motion. “Minou, minou, minou, come here and play with me, pretty kitty.”

Trying to hide his blush (She was beautiful okay? He could stay lost in those blue eyes forever), he attacked. Their fighting had been always more of a dance. Adrien knew enough about the cat and ladybug miraculous to know they were meant to complete each other. And it was quite obvious when they were fighting, Chat being swifter and more defensive while Ladybug was a force to be reckoned with, not pulling any punches. And while they were at it, well, it usually required a big mistake for one of them for the fight to come to an end. And for once, luck was on his side. He managed to catch Coccinelle, sizing her hands behind her back. She looked up at him, obviously surprised, before those really soft looking lips curled in a smug smirk. Adrien blinked in confusion. Why was she smirking? She lost. He got her. He could take her miraculous now.

But before even more question could pass through his brain, she got on her tip toes and captured his lips. Adrien felt his heart jump out of his chest. He closed his eyes, moaning against her mouth. She tasted so sweet, he could feel strawberry and vanilla and honestly, that must be what nirvana tasted like. He let go of her hands, rather pulling her against him and wrapping his arms around her waist. She moaned approvingly, then bit on his bottom lip. Adrien opened his mouth, allowing her tongue to sneak past his lips. Honestly, he could stay like this forever. But sooner than he would have liked, she pulled away from him.

“We should do that more often, chaton.” Coccinelle suggested, while extracting herself from his embrace. Adrien could only nod, his face still hot from the blush and his mind still fuzzy from how wonderful that kiss was. “See you later.”

She blew him a kiss, before grabbing the box with the dress and disappearing through a window, not before dodging the useless attacks of the champion. Chat Noir snapped too late from his little brain shortcircuit to realize what he had just done.


Adrien knew when his father called him in his office to speak with him, shit was about to go down. He looked up at his father, who studied him with a thoughtful look before he sighed.

“Well, Adrien, I think it is time for us to have a discussion about the hormonal drive of you, teenagers.”

Adrien blinked surprised, before the sentence was properly processed by his brain. “What?!”

“You know Adrien, the talk, the bees and all that nonsensical excuses parents like to use. Your sex drive had obviously taken a tool on you and it is affecting your performance as a superhero and it should be discussed why villans aren’t the proper people to share your sexual desires with. Look, I even got flyers.” he said shoving a bunch of coloured papers onto his desk.

Adrien was mortified. “FATHER NO!”

“How you teenagers are saying nowadays, father yes!” he adjusted his glasses before opening a flyer. “I’m also considering creating a quality condom line, had you seen the colours they use for these? No son of mine will ever use a neon orange condom, that’s so five seasons ago.”

Adrien slammed his head on the desk.

Woe is me, he thought bitterly.

The Final Countdown

Request: Hi!! I was wondering if you could do one with either Dan + Reader or Phil + Reader about that story that goes around tumblr about how you have timers on yourself (I think your wrist?) that count down the months, days, hours, and seconds until you meet your soulmate, maybe when they meet at a meet and greet?? Thanks!! :D 

Pairing: Dan x Reader (I might do a Phil one in the future based of this sort of request, but I’m already working on one for him so I figured I’d write one for Dan too :)

Warnings: Literally none, other than the fact that this is probably terrible writing. 

Fic:

47 days, 12 hours, 5 minutes, and 26 seconds. The arrangement of numbers blinked back at you from their place on your wrist. They were supposedly there to tell you how long it will be until you meet your soulmate, but in all honesty they were just stressing you out more than anything right then.

You pulled a baggy sweater on over your head, watching as the fabric ate away the little blinking numbers. And then you were just Y/N. Awkward, socially stunted, nerdy Y/N, minus all that soul mate business. Funny how a little chip of metal could start to alter all of that. 

You pushed a bagel down into the toaster, making a mental note to yourself to actually pull it out before it ended up burning like the last few ties. And then  moved on to your coffee, realizing way too late that you had ever so conveniently forgotten to pick up coffee rounds at the store (again) and were stuck with one of the little packs of instant coffee that you had saved specifically for this sort of occasion. You pulled your mug, the white one with little cat whiskers at the top of it, from the cupboard. 

After filling it with water and sticking it in the microwave for the right amount of time, you did what a good Samaritan, such as yourself, should have done and started to respond to emails- that is until a little notification popped up saying that Danisnotonfire had uploaded a new video. 

It’s not like you could actually be expected to do something productive when there was a brand new YouTube video to watch. And so that’s how you spent the next four minutes of your life (and also how you managed to burn your third bagel that week).

                                                          ~

10 days, 1 hours, 52 minutes, and 8 seconds. Over-sized hoodies, sweatshirts, and really just anything with long sleeves became your go-to outfits of choice . Your timer had gotten you panicked over the past few days, the continuously dropping numbers starting to make your anxiety rear its ugly head. 

You were grabbing groceries, your earbuds loudly playing Fall Out Boy as you went along, throwing bread, eggs, and Oreos in to your cart. on second thought you tossed in a pack of Mac N’ Cheese too. A dinner for champions, really. 

                                                           ~

5 days, 6 hours, 12 minutes, and 26 seconds. You’ve never been this stressed. Not even when you had to do speeches back in secondary school. Your fingers curled and uncurled around your mug of tea. It was probably cold now at that point, as it had been sitting on the table for a good twenty minutes, but you drank it anyhow. The TV played an old rerun of Friends, a marathon most likely, and you took a few deep breaths, trying to focus on the show.

                                                            ~

1 day, 4 hours, 20 minutes, 14 seconds. You were ecstatic, you had actually managed to briefly push the thought of soulmates out of your mind. You were meeting Dan and Phil tomorrow. The Dan and Phil. 

You quickly poured food in to your cat’s bowl, sitting down on the floor next to her as she ate. 

“It’s freaking tomorrow. Holy crap. I’m so nervous,” You said aloud to yourself. “Or maybe I’m excited. I have no idea.”

You purposely kept your wrist down, averting your eyes from the numbers. The last thing you needed was more reason to be anxious. 

                                                              ~

0 days, 0 hours, 10 minutes, 51 seconds. You were there. You were actually there. In the same building as Dan and Phil, surrounded by some of the most wonderful people you’d ever met. The entire idea of timers and soulmates was wiped from your head, and you let yourself laugh with the others in your group as a sweet girl named Eden made a joke. 

“What do you think they’re like? Dan and Phil I mean,”Kathrine, the girl standing next to you asked to no one in particular, looking around as she spoke. 

“Tall,” Another girl answered with a laugh, and a few others agreed. 

“Nerdy,” Someone from the back of the group quipped. 

“Nice, I’m sure,”Added the boy to your right, whom you’d helped draw whiskers on earlier. You nodded in agreement. They would be overly nice, surely.

                                                                ~

0 days, 0 hours, 0 minutes, 40 seconds. Dan and Phil gave you a matching a set of grins, and you smiled back so hard it hurt. You gave Phil a hug first. And told him you were doing very well when he asked you how you were. 

You gave Dan a hug next and before you could stress out about the fact that you were nearly crying on your favorite Youtubers, you heard a soft beeping and felt a strange tingling sensation in your wrist. 

He must’ve heard it too as he pulled away quickly, staring down at you with wide brown eyes as he gently pulled up his sleeve, his timer blinking up at the two of you. His blank timer blinking up at the two of you. 

You mirrored his actions, tugging your sleeve up far too slowly before coming coming face-to-face with dashes rather than numbers. Your heart beat ten times faster than normal and your stomach was filled with butterflies as you looked back up to him. 

“It’s you,” He said, a massive grin on his face.

The Mysterious Protagonist

Anonymous asked: “How do I create a main character? I have so many side characters and a decent plot. I like them better with a bit of mystery. I want my main to be interesting enough to not be the plain, boring, ‘chosen one’ stereotype. Help?”

Who ever said your protagonist can’t be mysterious? I’ve read novels where I don’t even get to learn the protagonist’s name or others that I go along thinking I know a lot about this character only for them to flip a switch and show I know nothing about them at all. 

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anonymous asked:

you should definitely talk about size differential!kink bc absolutely same

I mean, okay anon, TWIST MY ARM why don’t you.

Let’s talk about–

That first time, when Sam’s eighteen and hitting that second-to-last growth spurt, still mostly skinny because he doesn’t eat enough but that doesn’t seem to be stopping him–he just goes up and up, and Dean’s buying him new jeans again and Sam tries them on in the grody Goodwill dressing room and comes out and Dean thinks, what the hell. Sammy’s long long legs in jeans that fit, for the most part, though his shirt’s too short and pulling when he stretches so that line of bare stomach peeks out. He comes up to Dean’s side and Dean’s conscious for the first time of looking up and there’s a moment where his stomach goes weird and hot. Oh.

Or–

Dean doesn’t like being shoved around. Has enough of that out in the field, and he’s been thrown into enough walls for a lifetime. And–it’s not that Sam shoves him around. That’s not it. But–sometimes, if it’s been a long day and they’re tired, and Sam gets that kind of intense look around the eyes, sometimes then, Dean will find himself caught up by the hips and–urged, maybe is the word for it, pushed step by step back until his shoulders are up against the motel-room wall, and even if he’s standing up straight Sammy’s standing up straighter, looming, his shoulders blocking out the lamplight, having to bend his head to look into Dean’s eyes, and that, that Dean doesn’t mind, so much.

Or–or after, sometimes, when they’re older, Dean broadens out a lot more, takes up lifting in the bunker, and he likes the look it gives him. His shoulders look good. Except–Sam’s bigger, still. Sam’s always bigger. Puts on muscle like it’s nothing and he’s still got those long, long legs, and Dean still doesn’t think of himself like a fainting damsel or anything, but it does something to him if Sam gets all worked up into a mood and yanks him in close and picks him up, being showy, using his strength like he usually doesn’t. It yanks at the pit of Dean’s stomach, lights him up like nothing else, and he pretty much goes liquid, lets Sam lay him out and do whatever he wants, then. They have good sex, fun sex, and they each have their little kinks and foibles, and he’ll maybe never be over how Sam likes his hair pulled, or how he likes to get tied up, sometimes. Sometimes, though, what Dean wants is exactly this, and he doesn’t really know how to ask for it, because how do you ask that? Sammy, he could say, I like that you–that you’re tall. That you’re bigger than me. He’d get no end of shit for that. Still. Doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy it. Doesn’t mean that, when Sam gets into a mood, he can’t go onto his back on their bed, let Sam loom over him with those shoulders, his body just… bigger, his legs longer and his hands huge as they trap Dean’s against the bed. Doesn’t mean he can’t go light-headed crazy with watching Sammy’s bigger dick slide up against his, can’t cup his bigger balls and love the way they feel, the way they weigh heavy against his own lighter skin. When Sam flips him on his stomach and he spreads out, gasping, he can love how Sam pushes up inside, big and inescapable, weight crushing Dean down into the mattress, and watch Sam’s hand twine with his, longer fingers and bigger palm, and love how Sam’s big enough that he blocks out everything else, his arms braced around Dean’s head, his long long thighs bracketing Dean’s, so that Dean’s left feeling–small. Caged, cradled, pinned. He doesn’t say a thing about it, doesn’t ask. Doesn’t have to. It’s just–a fact. Sam’s bigger than him. 

(Thing is–Sam knows it, too.)

Halfway (Lin-Manuel x Reader)

Summary: You and Lin are extremely domestic, but not dating. Lin asks you to move in with him anyways.
Low-key inspired by this quote:
“Date someone who meets you halfway. Date someone who brings you a glass a water when they get themselves one. Date someone who makes sure you don’t spend money on ridiculous things. Date someone your ex hates and your mom loves. Date someone who’d rather spend a Friday night watching movies, than out with 50 people they barely even talk to. Date someone who sleeps on your chest and leaves a little puddle of drool. Don’t date someone who makes you leave oceans of tears.”

Word Count: 1,203

Warnings: Cheesy ending? Mentions of jazz? I’m not sure. 

A/N: Hi! I’m back at it again. Never in a million years did I think I’d ever get a single note on any of my writing, so the fact that I did get notes just has me over the moon. I might have a few fics already planned out because I have a free weekend and zero chill?

Side note: If you don’t know who Miles Davis is and have the time you should watch the movie Miles Ahead. Guy was wack.
________________________________

“Cariña,” Lin softly called out to you, drawing your attention away from your notebook. You looked up to see him offering you a glass of water and you were suddenly aware of how dry your throat was. You had spent a considerable amount of time with your only form of communication being the words you were scrawling across the pages of your notebook. You dropped your pen into the pages and set it aside, flexing your hand before accepting the glass with a grateful smile.

“Thank you, love.” you cooed back, taking a large drink. You set it on the edge of his desk that was only a few feet away from the window seat you were currently sitting in. He sat at his desk, flipping open his laptop, the screen illuminating his face in a way that the diminishing sunlight had ceased to do hours ago. This was your usual spot, Lin working away at his desk while you sat in the window overlooking New York. Your eyes had been drawn back to the pages causing you to miss the way Lin looked up at you, admiring the curve of your lips and the glint of your eyes as your mind seemed to pick right back up where your pen had previously stopped. There was a time when you had used to move straight out of his line of vision the moment he sat down at his desk, much to his dismay. It took a couple of weeks until Lin finally got the nerve to tell you to stay where you were and it had been your designated space ever since.

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Okay, but hear me out:

I feel like JKRow unintentionally sprinkled a lot of drarry/wolfstar/deamus/etc evidence all over the books because she secretly or even just subconsciously ships them af, but doesn’t want to admit it, and then she panicked and forced basically all her still alive main characters into het relationships to play it cool.
The same way one unthinkingly throws a lot of clothes out of the closet while getting ready and then hastily shoves them back in when someone comes to visit, but does a really poor job of it and so then the guest can see a bra hanging from the chandelier, a lone sock peaking from under the bed, the sleeve of a sweater slipping out of the closet’s door… and we’re some really sneaky guests, e.g. some close friends who know her like the back of our hand, who just opened the closet’s doors while she was fetching us a drink and all the clothes came tumbling down and she stepped back into the room to find them all over the floor again and us with a smug face like: “I see what you did there.” And now she’s just trying to make up excuses for it. Not to mention scorbus. Scorbus is the bloody bra hanging from the chandelier which she didn’t notice was still there until she saw us staring at it. Just saying.

Edit: with this post I’m not trying to say that we should excuse her for poor representation nor that this is a fact, it’s just me speculating and trying to cope with the fact that my ships (which I believe have a lot of supporting evidence) aren’t canon.

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Saving Scenes For Another Story

Anonymous asked: “I tend to hold myself back from using a certain scenes even though it fits the mood well because I feel like I can use it for another story. It honestly has me wondering if i can ever write a part with similar emotions better later. Should I just use the parts I write or save them for later?”

In some cases, if you really can’t approach a topic as fully as you might want to, it would be worth it to “save” that topic for another story, but if you feel it can be addressed proficiently in the story you’re writing now, I don’t see a reason not to include it, even if may write other books about it later on. 

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Friends

Hey guys!
This is my very first imagine so this might be not as good as others but I’m working on my writing skills.
Please note that my mother tongue isn’t english so there might be some mistakes, I’d be glad if you could correct me. 

Also, please send in requests so I can write things you want to read! :)

Happy reading, tell me what you think! xx

Originally posted by riverdalegifsdaily

Pairing: Archie Andrews x Reader

Words: 786

Closing my tired eyes, I let my thoughts wander. A lot had happened in the past few weeks.

My parents were constantly fighting, which was slowly but surely driving me insane. Let’s not forget about the fact that my best friend, Archie Andrews, ignored me all summer. And then there’s Jason Blossom’s death. It probably shouldn’t have bothered me as much as it did considering the fact that we barely spoke to each other. But unfortunately it’s the only thing that’s in my mind. No one deserved to die the way he did.

“Y/N!” Startled I opened my eyes to look at the person who pulled me out of my deep thoughts. “What do you want?” I snapped when I realized who’s standing in front of me.

A look of hurt and confusion crossed his face. Annoyed of him I stood up and shouldered my backpack. A hand grabbed as I began to walk away.  “Y/N, please wait” Archie’s voice begged.

Sighing I turned to him, waiting for him to say what he wanted to say. When not even a word left his mouth I let out a pissed ‘whatever’. This time when I started to walk away he didn’t stop me. He just stared at me as I made my way to Pop’s.

A sigh of relief made its way out of my mouth when I sat down in my favourite booth. “Rough day?” Pop asked. “Rough life” I gave him a weak smile. “The usual?” his voice spoke. The response he got was a simple nod.

-

“Oh, you’re home” My mum says as cheerful as always. “Obviously” I rolled my eyes. Her face saddened. She opened her mouth to say something else. “Save it” I said emotionless and went in my room.

Sighing I fell on my bed. Now that I was finally alone I let myself drown in my depressing thoughts. Without realizing tears ran down my face. I didn’t even know why I was crying. Maybe it’s the fact that I felt the loneliest I’ve ever felt. Nobody was there for me, not even my best friend although he promised he’d be there. 'Always’. I guess promises didn’t mean anything nowadays.

I was ripped out of my thoughts by a knock at my door. I sat up and wiped away the tears quickly.

“Yeah?” I asked, trying to not sound so tired. The door opened and a ginger haired boy entered my room. “What do you want, Archibald?” My voice was weaker than I hoped it would be. “I hoped I could talk to you now” he said, sounding hopeful.

“What is there to talk about?”

Silence. Awkward silence. I rolled my eyes and stood up. “Why?” I asked quietly, looking at everything than him. “Why what?” His voice full of confusion. “Why did you ignore me all summer? Why do you want to talk now? Why do you suddenly care?”

Archie opened his mouth just so close it again. “That’s what I thought” I sighed. “You know what? Maybe it’s best you go now”

“What? No, please, Y/N, let me just explain everything” Archie begged. His eyes screamed at me, begged me to just hear him out. I sat down on my bed and signaled him to speak.

He mouthed a 'thanks’ and sat down next to me. “I didn’t mean to ignore you, you have to believe me. I’d never do this to you on purpose. I- It just happened a lot lately. I know I was a total douche but I’m so, so sorry. I promise it won’t ever happen again. You’re way too important to me. I can’t lose you”

“Arch, I- I don’t know. I really needed you this summer. You weren’t there when I needed you the most” My eyes looked in his. He swallowed and played nervously with the hem of his  white shirt.

We sat in silence. The only sounds you could hear were our breaths and the clicking of my clock. The way he looked at me, the way he spoke, it made me think. I can’t loose him either. He’s the only person that could make me smile without even trying. The only person that made me feel safe.

“I forgive you” I whispered. I heard a sound of relief. Seconds later I felt arms around my body. “Thank you, thank you, thank you” Archie muttered. I was sure he had the biggest smile on his face. “Don’t make me regret it, Andrews” I laughed lightly. A small 'you won’t’ was whispered in my hair.

For the first time in weeks I felt happy. For the first time in weeks I didn’t feel alone.

Supergirl's Alex Danvers is the Original Character Andrew Kreisberg is Most Proud Of

It might be pretty difficult to out-charm John Diggle, but as far as Arrow and Supergirl executive producer Andrew Kreisberg is concerned, that’s exactly what Chyler Leigh’s Alex Danvers has done.

Saying that his previous favorite original character – one who didn’t appear in the comics, not one who was merely drastically changed like Felicity Smoak or Maggie Sawyer – was John Diggle, but that Alex has managed to unseat Oliver’s right-hand man.

“I had previously been most proud of Dig. Now, it’s definitely Alex,” Kreisberg told ComicBook.com. “I think that we’re just the lucky guys and girls who get to tell this leg of the characters’ journeys. You sort of just hope that you can add to it and add to the collective story that is told over so many decades. The idea, like with Green Arrow, that John Diggle has become part of his universe. Now Diggle is in the comic books not written by us. People have just embraced that character.”

And he expects that to happen with Alex, too, considering how much the audience has warmed to her.

“And that future generations of Green Arrow storytellers might have John Diggle as part of his world is just so cool to us,” Kreisberg added. “Similarly, with Alex, that Supergirl has never really had a sister before and yet hopefully now people feel like that relationship is almost indispensable to interpretations of her. And I think Alex is one of my favorite characters I’ve ever gotten to write. I think that what’s so interesting about her is that Alex would be the star of her own show, except for the fact that her sister is Supergirl. She’s a doctor and an alien fighting secret agent. If she played an instrument, she’d be Buckaroo Banzai. She’s this amazing character and she’s only overshadowed by the fact that her sister is the Girl of Steel. And I think that’s so interesting that she’s both her sister’s protector, and teacher, and confidant. But then can’t do half the things that Kara can do and yet is so resourceful on her own. I just think she’s just such an amazingly interesting, complex, and funny, and deep, and emotional. And just the journey that she went through regarding her own sexuality this year. She’s never not interesting. There’s no situation you can put her in where I don’t think she’s the most interesting person in the room.”

(x)

Back to the Past (Hamilton x Reader) 7

Words: 4100+

Warnings: blood mentions, death, violence, attempted sexual assault

A/N: you are all going to hate me and i’m sorry, and i barely edited because i really wanted you to read this so here you go.

Part1 Part2 Part3 Part4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 8

“Hamilton, what are you doing?” You asked him, and he sighed, ignoring you. He was writing another letter for Washington, his hand quickly writing the calligraphy. You admired his penmanship, watching him write. Speaking of Washington, you almost ran into him the other day, and thankfully, Laurens was there to help you stay hidden.


You were sitting on the cot that Laurens laid out for you a few weeks ago. The boys and you decided that it was best for you to sleep behind the partition wall, since it was the only place that could hide you from someone that might come inside.

As you were sleeping there, you heard the rustling of the tent entrance. You glanced up out of your blanket, and saw a large figure standing there. Assuming that it was Mulligan, you closed your eyes again.

“Lieutenant Laurens, I need to see you immediately.” The booming voice surrounded the tent, making you shooting your eyes open.

That was definitely not Mulligan.

You saw Laurens’s figure quickly scamper out of bed, and you widened your eyes. Please don’t let him look behind here. “Laurens, why are you fully clothed?” Washington asked, and you heard a slight chuckle. Laurens laughed.

“Sir, I just like sleeping that way.” You heard a small stutter and nervousness in his voice. You hoped that Washington didn’t hear it as well.

He did.

“Lieutenant, are you okay?” The general began walking around the room, looking for anything out of the ordinary. You saw him walking towards the partition, and held your breath, shaking. You saw his hands touch the corner of the partition, and began pulling it back.

You heard Laurens gasp, and Washington turned towards him, moving away from you. You heard a strained chuckle from Laurens. “Ah, sorry sir. I suddenly experienced this pain in my thigh.” You saw Washington shake his head.

“Let’s take you to the medical tent to make sure everything is fine.” You saw their shadows disappear out of the tent, leaving you alone. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, walking around the room divider.

Lafayette was sleeping on his cot, unaware of the commotion that just took place. You giggled, and he shot his eyes open. “Mon amour, are you okay?” He asked, quickly getting up. How in the world…?

“I’m fine, Lafayette.”


“You know, I’m trying here, I really am. You just need to help me, you cannot let me figure this out without you.” You said softly, and he turned to you, sighing. He placed the quill on the side, looking at you.

“Okay then, how do we do this?” He asked you. “Should we try and say nice things to one another? Should we pretend that we like each other, until we actually do? Should we just kiss and settle our differences? Is that how we are going to do this?” He said, glaring at you. “Or maybe we can forget about this, and live our lives. I forget about you, and you do the same to me. And maybe that will break this loop as you call it, and we can finally die. How about that?”

You looked at him, saying nothing. He stared at you expectantly, waiting for your response. You rubbed your head, annoyed. “This is going to be harder than I thought. How could I like you? Every word that comes out of your mouth is stupid.” You mumbled, and he stood up, grabbing your hand. “Hey-!”

“Since we cannot figure this out by ourselves, maybe the lads can help us.”

“I don’t think it works that way…”

“Do you have a better idea?” He grumbled, and you followed him, no longer protesting. He dragged you to the tent that Mulligan had by himself. He had a needle in his mouth, stitching a piece of fabric. You looked up when the two of you appeared, and he took the needle out, staring at the two of you. He glanced down at Alexander’s hand in yours, and his smile slipped a little.

Lafayette and Laurens were sitting across from Mulligan, talking to each other. Laurens smiled at you, and Lafayette nodded.

“Lads, we need your help. The only thing Y/N and I do is argue, and this is not going anywhere. So we-“

“You.” You replied, and he rolled his eyes.

“-decided that it would be best for you to help us. So, can you?” They looked at each other, and Laurens was the first to speak.

“Um, aren’t you supposed to figure this out on your own? It would be strange for us to interfere on your relationship. Unless we lock you in a room, of course.” He said, grinning evilly. You raised your eyebrow, looks up at Hamilton. He had a straight face, looking at his friend.

“You are no help, Laurens.”

“Well, mon amis, if you do not like each other, why are you holding hands?” Lafayette pointed to your entwined fingers. Hamilton widened his eyes, and quickly took his fingers out of yours, clearing his throat. You saw a blush form on his cheeks.

“Um, Laf, that was because I had to drag her here after me. She insisted that we figure this out on our own.” He responded, shaking in his voice. You never saw him this nervous before, so it was a shock.

“My friends, I agree with Y/N. It takes two people to love each other, not five. You need to figure this out on your own, Hamilton. She loves you already, you just need to learn how to fight through this curse, and see that beautiful woman that you have right in front of you.” Mulligan said, continuing to look at the stitching. “And do it before it’s too late, before she realizes that there’s someone that cares for her just the way she is.” He whispered, never looking away from the fabric.

“Let’s go, Hamilton.” You said, tugging on his arm. Hamilton stayed in his place, staring at his friend curiously.

“Am I standing in front of the man who wishes to take her away?” Alexander said, and you could have sworn there was anger in his voice. You pulled on his arm, and he ignored you again.

Mulligan chuckled, barely hesitating on his work. “Of course, Hamilton. I believe you’re the only one who does not know this. And I do plan to do so, since you cannot stand her. She deserves better than you.” Hamilton began moving towards his friend. Laurens and Lafayette got up, stopping Hamilton.

Mon ami, this is not good idea.”

“Lafayette’s right, Hamilton. We all know who would win in a fight.” Mulligan laughed. You frowned, hating where this was going.

“Just because I do not like her now, does not mean anything. We are meant to be together, and I will try my best for that to happen. I better not see you try and bother Y/N.”

“Lads, I don’t think this is-“ Laurens started, but was interrupted by Mulligan pushing his tools to the side. He stood up, towering over the rest of you.

“What are you going to do about it, mon ami.” He hissed sarcastically, glaring at the shorter man. You moved in between all the commotion, putting your hands on both of their chests. Lafayette moved closer, standing next to you. Laurens did the same, standing on the opposite side.

“Stop. Stop fighting, this is stupid. I can decide for myself who I would like to be with, I’m not some pawn you guys could use. I am a human being, so treat me like one,” you turned to Mulligan, “Hercules, stop threatening your best friend. He’s just asking for help because he can’t figure this out, give him a break.” You turned to Hamilton, “And Alexander, stop acting like such a hot shot, you both love each other.”

“I don’t want this situation to break up your friendship. I want all of us to love each other, despite what might happen in the end. For all you know, I’ll just die to stop this from happening. I just want you to make this work, okay? So, stop this childish behavior.” You said, looking between both. They stopped glaring at each other, Hamilton being the first to hold out his hand.

“Truce?” He asked, and Mulligan looked at his hand, raising his eyebrow.

“You know I don’t shake hands, Hamilton.” You moved out of the way, and he pulled Hamilton against his chest, giving him a bear hug. The man laughed, and you saw the Hamilton that you once knew. He was genuinely smiling, like he used to.

“Okay, Herc, I cannot breathe anymore.”

You smiled at the two of them, happy they settled their differences quickly. Hamilton looked at you, the smile struggling to stay on his face. You nodded slowly, understanding. He nodded, the smile going into a straight line. “Let’s go, Y/N.” He said, touching your fingers with his. “We’ll figure this out.” Before you walked out, Mulligan called out.

“Better take care of her, Hamilton. I’m still here!” Hamilton laughed, closing the tent door behind him. The two of you walked quietly back to his tent, his fingers rubbing your palm. It was comforting, much different than holding his hand earlier.

“Y/N, I’m trying. I’m trying to deal with this. But it’s terribly difficult.”

“I know, Alexander. But you’ve been getting better. Remember that night when you could barely look at me without wanting to kill me? Now, you’re holding my hand without even flinching.” He laughed, looking down at your hands together. He played with your fingers, absentmindedly.

“I’m sorry for being rude to you for this long, Y/N. I think, I think I’m beginning to tolerate you.” You smiled at him. “You are a very beautiful human, Y/N. You are much different than Erin.”

“She told me that you liked her.” You whispered, and he laughed, shaking his head.

“I believe that is the completely opposite of what I think. In fact, I could not stand her. She talked about herself most of the time, and never let me say a word. She might have taken my kindness as liking, but that is not what it was. I just wanted her to stop dancing with me, so that I could dance with you.”

The two of you entered the tent, and he let go of your hand, going back to writing his work. He did not stop talking, though. “When I saw Hercules dancing with you, I, I did not know what feeling was coming over me. But I knew that I did not like that he was the one making you smile, and not me. These emotions come out of me without my permission, and they cover the hatred that was bestowed upon me. Just now, I wanted to kill Mulligan for trying to take you away from me.” He shook his head. “I do not know what I was thinking.”

“You still don’t feel that way, do you?” You asked, and he shrugged.

“No, I do not want to hurt my friend. But I cannot stand him being in the same room as you, if that is what you mean.” Hamilton said, writing away. You said nothing, just watching him write. His writing was beautiful, and yours was chicken-scratch compared to his. He glanced at you ever so often, a small smile on his face.

You got off the cot, wiping off your dress. Hamilton stopped writing, looking at you in confusion. “Where are you going?” He asked. You pointed out the tent.

“It’s late, and I need to get back to Laurens’s and Lafayette’s tent before the sun sets too low. You know that’s when all the men start to come out.” He bit his lip, looking at his cot. He then looked at you. You began walking out.

“What if you stayed in my tent tonight?” He asked when you were halfway there. You turned back to him, and there was a smile on his face. He looked nervous, his leg moving up and down quickly.

“Are you sure?” You asked. “You don’t have to, I know it’s hard.”

“No, I can handle it. If we want this to work, we must fight through it, right? Please stay with me in my tent tonight.” He blushed at his phrasing, and began to babble, “Um, no, that was inappropriate. I did not mean it that way.”

“It’s okay, Hamilton. And I would love to stay in your tent tonight.” You winked at him, and he shook his head. You began walking over to an empty spot behind his cot, clearing it off.

“Y/N, I’m not going to let you sleep on the floor.”

“It’s fine, sleeping on the cot is like sleeping on the floor anyway.”

“Do the men in your time let woman sleep on the floor during a battle?”

“Well, it would be kind of hard to say, Hamilton. The soldiers fight overseas, and I don’t know any men or women in the army. So, maybe. I hope they treat each other equally. That’s how it should be. And you did make me sleep on the floor, don’t you remember?“ You teased, rolling out a blanket. You felt his hand on yours, and you looked at him. He gave you a smile.

"I do. And I also remember that I am a gentleman, and I’m not going to do that to you again. Now, go to sleep on the cot, or I’ll pick you up when you’re sleeping and put you there myself.” There was no joking in his tone, so you rolled your eyes, but listened.

You laid your body on the cot, pulling the cover up. It was freezing tonight, so you piled it over your head, only your mouth and nose showing. Hamilton laughed at your cocoon, and you peeked out. He went back to his desk, and began writing again. It took you a while to fall asleep, but soon enough, you were unconscious.


Hamilton’s tent opened, and he looked over, seeing Lafayette walk in. “Hamilton, have you seen-” His gaze flicked over to your sleeping figure. You were sleeping soundly. He smiled, looking back at Hamilton. “Ahh, so you have made up? Are you courting?”

Hamilton laughed, shaking his head. “No, we are not, Lafayette. In fact, I asked her to come and sleep in here. I wanted to get to know her more. She’s a very interesting person.” Hamilton smiled to himself, sipping his quill in the ink. Lafayette nodded slowly.

“So you like her?”

“Not necessarily. More like fascinated. She’s from the future, Laf. We can learn so much about it-”

“Mon ami, I believe that you are missing the big point. Have you forgotten about the curse? Have you forgotten about us being reincarnated? This is no joke, Hamilton. We need to figure this out.”

“Lafayette-”

“No, do not try to explain to me about the future. We need to get her home, the future does not matter. If we do not figure this out, we will be in the future. We will be stuck like this.” He looked over at you, making sure you were sleeping. “Y/N loves you, mon ami. She has not given up on you yet. But if you continue to treat her like this, she will. And remember, Mulligan is waiting for you to do so,” he hinted, “I will be gone, then.” He nodded at Hamilton once, then walked out the tent.

Hamilton stopped writing, and glanced over at you. There was something about you, something that he thought he finally figured out. But as Lafayette’s words drifted through his head, he grew uncertain.

Did he actually hate you? You moved a little, and Hamilton jumped, hoping you did not hear what he said. He then remembered that it was all in his head, and he was being ridiculous. You grew silent again, the only noise being your breaths.

He chuckled, admiring you. He placed his hand under his chin, watching the cocoon move up and down. He soon grew tired of writing, so he blew out the candle, and walked over to the blanket on the ground. You were still shivering, so he gave his last blanket to you, laying on the hate ground. He did not know how he felt about you, but one thing was certain:

He did not want to imagine his life without you in it.


You woke up quickly, hearing a loud boom sound. You turned to Hamilton, and he was already up, throwing his jacket on. He looked at you. “We’re being ambushed, I need to go.” He grabbed his musket from the table and began marching towards the entrance.

“Alexander!”

“Yes?” he asked, turning around. You gestured around you.

“What do I do?” He widened his eyes, then slapped his forehead.

“Oh no…” He glanced you over once, then grabbed your hand, pulling you Lafayette’s and Laurens’s tent. He looked around for something, then grabbed a uniform. He gave you it, and you stared, confused. “Put on the uniform, and hide behind the paper wall. Do not move, Y/N. Do not do anything until you hear from one of us, okay? This is no joke, one of those red coats could come and…” He trailed off, staring into the distance. He blinked, looking back at you. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. See you soon.”

“Alexander?”

“Yes?” He said, anxious. There was excitement in his eyes, like he was ready to fight.

“Be careful, and don’t do anything stupid. I need you.” His eyes grew wide, and a smile tugged at his lips. Before he could say more, a loud horn rang out. He gave you one last look, before leaving you behind.


You followed his orders, making sure that you stayed silent. You heard gunshots and screams outside, and a part of you wanted to run away from all the chaos. But you stayed, hiding behind the wood. You heard the tent flaps open. You were about to climb from under the cot and greet your friend, but recalled what Alex said.

You stayed silent, listening.

“This is better than my cots, lads. Look at the embroidered quilt. Does a woman live in here?” The man joked. You immediately knew that this was no one you were familiar with.

There was nothing you could do. Your friends were probably somewhere on the battlefield, far away from this tent. You were visibly shaking, not knowing what to do. If you stayed there, there was a high chance of you getting caught. But if you ran out, they would definitely see you.

You decided to stay.

“You know these colonials, they are always comforting each other.” Another joked. Okay, only two, you could get out of there if something happens.

“Lads, we are here for supplies. Stop chatting and get to your job.” Three. There were three men.

Shit.

You grabbed the nearest thing that looked like a weapon, and pulled it close to you. It was a short, broken stick.

Perfect.

The partition was pulled back quickly, and you held up the short stick, looking at the man standing in front of you. He was wearing a red coat, blood dripping from it. You were terrified, but you didn’t want him to see that. He snickered, crossing his arms against his chest. “Look at this, lads, a woman-“ You kicked him in the balls, and he groaned, crumbling over. You leaped off the cot, running towards the entrance. Before you could, another man stuck his leg out, causing you to trip and fall onto the ground.

You face hit the ground, and you felt blood seep out of a wound. You tried crawling up, but a foot landed on your back. You hissed, knowing that the hit would leave a bruise.

“What do we have here? What are ya, a woman soldier?” One asked, peering down at you. You spat in his face, and he laughed, wiping it off. “Ha, she’s a feisty one, eh?”

“That means she’s gonna be fun.” Another said, pulling on your uniform. You tried kicking and moving around, but they grabbed your arms and legs, holding you down.

“Stop! Leave me alone!” You cried, and they just laughed, continuing to pull at your clothes.

“You know, I haven’t seen a lady in a while. And you don’t look too bad.” He sneered, and you cried, trying your best way possible to escape. But it was to no avail.

Before he could take off any more of your clothes, you heard a gunshot. The man that was tearing off your clothes was pushed back by the bullet, the shot landing in his chest. His blood splattered on you, and you gasped. You looked up, and Hamilton was standing there, holding his musket in his hand.

“Get off of her, or I’ll kill you too.” He said, holding out a smaller gun in his hand. The men let go of you, holding up their hands in surrender. You scrambled off the ground, going right next to Hamilton. He pointed his gun at them, walking out slowly. Once he was a distance away from the tent, he sighed, looking down at you.

“Y/N, are you okay? Did they do anything to you?” He touched your face, concern in his eyes. You were speechless.

He didn’t look like he hated you. He was worried, scanning your body. He looked at the cu on your face, and sighed, shaking his head. Tears gathered in his eyes, and he pulled you close to him. Your back still ached, so you groaned, and he let you go quickly.

“I’m so sorry, I should have never left you there alone. This would have never happened if I thought of a better plan. It took all of me not to go back there and kill the other two. I really wanted to, but I had to make sure you’re okay. Y/N, are you okay? You haven’t said anything. I need to know that you are fine.” He looked at you, the tears finally falling. You laughed, staring up at him. He was puzzled, his eyes searching yours. You wiped the tears off his cheek, a smile on your face.

“I’m, I’m okay. Are you?” You looked at the fresh blood on his uniform. “Are you wounded? Where are the others? Are they okay?” You asked, looking around. He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you lightly this time. You closed your eyes, listening to the fast pace of his heartbeat.

There were still gunshots and screaming going on, but the two of you were in your own bubble, ignoring the outside world.

“I love you…” He whispered into your ear. “I love you, Y/N, and I am sorry I did not realize it before. I’m sorry for treating you so horribly, I’m sorry I called you all those names, I’m sorry I wanted to hurt you. I never want to feel like that again, I-“

You silenced him by pressing your lips against his. He froze against your lips, and your heart dropped. You quickly moved away from him, your heart beating faster. “Oh no, I just thought it would be a good idea. I mean, you were ranting and I just-“

“You kissed me.” He said, looking down at you. There was a deep blush on his face. “You kissed me.” He repeated, like he was waiting for me to answer. You nodded.

“Yes.” You replied, your nerves still getting the best of you. He ran his hands through his hair.

“You like me, Y/N? After everything I’ve done, you still like me?” He said, his voice shaking.

I love you, Alexander. I told you I did, and I still do. I wasn’t going to give up on you.” You said simply, and he laughed, looking at you again.

“Can I kiss you?” He said, putting his hands on either side of your face. He touched your cut, but you ignored it, nodding. He pressed his lips against yours, his tongue scattering across your lips. You wrapped your hands around his head.

As you pulled your face away from his, you felt a sharp pain on your spine. You gasped, your hands becoming limp. Hamilton looked down at you, holding your body up. You blinked slowly, feeling the pain course through your body. You looked at Hamilton, his face in shock. You could barely think, closing your eyes.

“I, I think I’m shot.” You said, touching your back. You opened your eyes a little, looking at the blood stained on your fingers. “Alexander…” You choked out, fluttering your lids.

“Y/N, Y/N! No!” He laid you down on the ground. You touched his arm lightly, trying hard to open your eyes. Once you were barely able to see him, you smiled.

“Take your time, I’ll see you on the other side.”


Tags:  @ghcstflower @princessoftrash1234@theamazingfeministunicorn@caswhatareyoudoingstahp @fanagelbagel@thefoundingfuckboys@batgurl32467 @21phantasticromances @live-to-the-fullest18@looneylovegoodx @onelastfic @sbobsessions@gonnamurderyou@goldensabriel @chvck-shvrley @insane-hamilton-imagines@justfangirlingaround @heiloveee @carry-on-my-fangirl @queentyna@feral-tomcat-hamilton @mehrmonga @gum-and-chips @yarahasfaith @night-persona @kanadianwithashippingproblem@haleychristineeeee @blueoceansandyellowstars @22cupsofcoffee @unknown1200

Writing about Cults

Anonymous asked: “Do you have any advice on how to write about cults?”

I feel like I must have read something about them once in a psychology textbook, but not the memory is pretty foggy. With that said, there’s a few things that come to mind.

Keep reading

Update on my forcing my students to watch the VM pilot...
  • I had to devote two classes to watching the episode, which meant that I watched half the episode last week and the other half today. Well, what do you know? A couple of my students couldn’t wait that long and found their own ways to watch it online… (”I think my computer got a virus, I couldn’t get to watch episode two”.
  • A student mentioned how information-loaded the pilot is. It’s something I don’t usually notice since I know the show’s mythology so well, but he is right. There’s too much going on for a first episode. (Of course, VM does not underestimate its viewers…)

  • All of them think Logan is a jackass. Which, yeah, that’s exactly how you should feel after watching the pilot. Someone asked me if he was the one who raped Veronica. I almost started laughing, which they interpreted as confirming that claim. I told them they should watch the show and find out for themselves.

  • Some of them questioned Veronica’s resourcefulness. Well, not so much her resourcefulness as the fact that things always seem to work exactly like she planned them. They find that hard to believe. I have to agree with them, but it’s definitely one of the reasons I love the show.

  • They were pestering me about A) who killed Lilly, and B) who raped Veronica. I didn’t, and won’t, tell them. Maybe that way some of them will actually watch the show? Keeping my fingers crossed!

  • It’s not all fun and games. After we finished watching the episode, I gave them an assignment. They have to write a report titled “Who killed Lilly Kane?”. They must describe three characters who, in their opinion, are the main suspects and explain their motives as well as the way in which they think they might have killed Lilly. I did give them a clue… the fact that the murderer was shown and/or mentioned in the episode. The suspects so far: Logan, Duncan, and Lianne/Jake (because of their meeting at the Camelot.) 

You guys. Service alert here.

If you haven’t watched Amazon’s The Man in the High Castle yet, drop everything and go see it–like, now.
I’m serious, that’s what I call some A+ television. I think I haven’t loved anything so much ever since Avatar (and that is a few years ago now). 

Also, though making parallels feels like a big reach–I might say it does have some things with characters and their choices and their relationships and dynamics… things that might just slightly remind you of some of our beloved Avatar characters now and then. In a complete different context, of course, but, you know. KINDA. I guess it’s just the fact that it’s really well witten and for me Avatar is the epitome of good writing, I don’t know. It’s just really, really good. really well done and amazingly developed so far.

Just some random thoughts but I had to pour all these emotions somewhere and I hope you guys can give this show a try because it’ really worth it

anonymous asked:

Hi, I read recently that some people consider Home to be a gay anthem. This interpretation had never crossed my mind, I have to say. I would love to read an analysis of this song. Is it a gay anthem because of larrie interpretation or does it have a more universal message. I am a soft larrie (I love peeking into the Larry fandom when life gives me enough time) but I prefer asking as Anon to avoid any drama. Also, I love your analysis, way of thinking and writing: always informative! Thank you :)

Home was released on 22 October 2015, as part of the Perfect EP. It was was written by Louis Tomlinson, Liam Payne, and Jamie Scott. I’m going to make a more complete post, just for my own record. 

Here’s what Liam said about it:

While Liam Payne said “Home” (available on the “Perfect” EP) is the most meaningful song for him but demurred about exactly why that is, he revealed Tomlinson…tapped into his emotional side while writing and recording.

“Having seen different things he’s gone through and different stuff this year – and obviously I’ve written a lot of songs with him – he can really get into that sensitive mindset to write songs, which is pretty cool,” said Payne.

The circumstances of the leak were a bit strange. If you recall, October 21, 2015 marked the first cancellation, ever, of a One Direction concert (in Belfast), caused, reportedly, by the Great Payne Bowel Run-off. Later that night, the EP was seen on Spotify, and then later leaked. 

Louis appeared to be anticipating the leak. Shortly after fans discovered the songs on Spotify U.K., he tweeted:

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Glitch In The Matrix Stories #33

I Think I Just Played Against Myself In Tetris

There’s a site on the internet in which you can play Tetris 1v1, called Tetris Friends. My name on the site is IWantToTellYou, but when I’m playing it doesn’t display full name, so I can see just IWantT…

So the thing is, I’m playing and I start a new game and I see my enemy has the username IWantT… and I can’t see the rest. The user also has the same icon as I do, then I think it’s a coincidence.

So I just play, but I notice that my enemy isn’t playing and he’s just letting the blocks fall down as if he was AFK, and I just beat him in 15 seconds, and move on. I was just rushing like usually so I didn’t pay attention to his username in after-game screen. The next game I open, I’m playing vs. the exact same user, but this time he’s getting the same blocks I did the last game and he does the same moves I did.

I fucking froze, got so scared I couldn’t move. He beat me in the exact same way I beat him the last time. The games were identical. I stuck around in the after game screen and saw that the username was in fact IWantToTellYou just like mine. I clicked on the username and it brought me to my profile. WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED.

As I’m writing this down I’m shaking as fuck, I’m still fucking disturbed.

Credits to: TheresAPlace

I Saw Myself On Omegle

It was weird. It looked exactly like me except I was wearing a shirt and sitting up, and the other me was naked and laying on his side. I was thinking it might have been a recording from another time- but I have a beard that I’ve never had before, and so did the other me. 

I only saw it for a second before the cam re-rolled. I don’t get on Omegle often cause it’s usually just other dudes wanking but I decided to try my luck at finding a random hot chick one more time. Google says the last time I visited the page was May 2015. It was freaky.

Credits to: 19Kyle94

Ended Up On Opposite Side Of Fence After Sledding Into It

This has always been the weirdest thing I can remember.

When I was a tween, my brother and I would visit these family friends who had daughters our age. They lived on the edge of a modest hill facing a running track surrounded by a regular chest-high chain link fence. We would play around this area whenever we visited since it was open and hardly anyone was around but joggers. 

In the winter we could easily sled tubes down to where the fence began. The hill was never so steep that we would ever crash into the fence even at its highest point, especially since there was plenty of flat space to slow down on.

However, I remember a single occasion where I picked up enough speed to make it all the way to the very bottom of the hill. I was worried I would impact the chain-link very hard, and though I was bundled in a heavy coat and snowpants I squeezed my eyes shut to prepare for what I thought would be the inevitable crash. When it never came I waited to stop moving and eventually opened my eyes.

I was on the running track behind the fence, about 20 feet from where it began. My brother and our friends were at the top of the hill about to descend, not really paying attention to me. I had to climb over the fence in my bulky winter gear to get back to them, as there was no gate on the side we were playing against. The others didn’t seem to notice what had happened but I have always been concerned with how I didn’t crash out and seemed to teleport or phase through the fence to safety.

For a while I thought I had picked up enough speed and somehow managed to slide underneath the fence. I do not think that would have been possible as it had freshly snowed a few inches, compacting the bottom of the fence and making it impossible to move easily. Plus, I imagine the chain at the bottom would have scratched me in a way I would have been able to notice. But again, I simply came to a halt as if the fence had never been there. I have no reasonable explanation for how this happened.

Credits to: vailarian

My Reflection Was Looking The Other Way

I have had a couple of of odd things happen, though none of them close together. 

One that springs to mind happened about a year ago. I was in a restaurant with my husband and kids, and there was a big mirror on the wall opposite me. When I looked at myself in the mirror, my reflection was not looking back at me, then a moment later, it was. In the mirror, it was as if there was a time lag, and my reflection hadn’t quite caught up. It totally unnerved me. 

A moment later it was back to normal, but I can still picture the image of my own eyes looking sideways instead of straight back at me. Like looking at a photo instead of a reflection. I could understand if my brain was the one taking time to catch up, with nerve impulses transmission and a kind of processing delay, but is it possible for my brain to actually beat reality, and see it before it happened? 

I did not say anything to my husband at the time, as I was freaked out, just kept kept looking away and then back, to see if it happened again. I wondered if it may be something to do with the properties of light/reflection/refraction playing tricks on my eyes, but it was definitely weird. The mirror was totally flat by the way, not beveled or decorated in any way. 

Credits to: mellybigbelly

Things I have been reading... (Jan)

Okay, so this one is MASSIVELY late but I blame my pneumonia for the delay and totally not the fact that I was so busy reading stuff that I have only just finalized January’s list!!!  So here are a few things that I have been reading this January and I think you might like them too.  I have been sucked into a few new fandoms thanks to @bkwrm523 , @thorne93 and @sdavid09 and so the last section has kinda grown more diverse.  If you read or write something and you think it should be on my list then please tag me or send me a link or print it out and send it by raven.  Well, without anymore of me rambling, here’s my favourite fics in January 2017.

Originally posted by bookwormirmak

Supernatural:

Cuddled Love@sdavid09  I want to cuddle with Dean after this fic!  If you are having a bad day then just go read this and it will make everything better *well maybe not, but you will feel happier after reading it*

Dancing on my Own – @jelly-beans-and-gstrings I’m a sucker for a choose your own ending and this one is fantastic.  So who would you choose? Sam or Dean?

Dirty Thoughts of an Archangel@dont-hate-relate-pls  By now you should all know how much I adore Gabriel and this fic is just an amazing mixture of cute, awkward and hot. I may or may not have read this one several times.

A Kiss for the Night –  @thethingwewrite This is a smutty Crowley for you should you be that way inclined.  I really liked reading this one, I have a soft spot for the King of Hell.

Whats-His-Name– @l8nitl0vr I think this is one of my favourite Lucifer fics.  For me I think the characterization is spot on and I could totally picture him being like this, plus I would probably do what the reader did too.

A Little Too Late -  @lucifersagents  This series has had me hooked all the way through. There are so many things that keep you guessing and it is so well written I’m kinda sad that it’s finished.

Woman of Letters - @like-a-bag-of-potatoes  I love this series, everytime I see theres a new part it brings a smile to my face.  One of my all-time favourite writers and all round lovely person.  If you aren’t already following her I highly recommend you do.

Originally posted by avengerdowney

Marvel:

Matchmaker–  @callamint Bucky and Natasha playing matchmaker is my new favourite thing and this series is brilliant.

Imagine Wade Wilson introducing you to Matt Murdock - @imamotherfuckingstar-lord  This. Is. Amazing.  Seriously, this little imagine is sooooo good.  I love @imamotherfuckingstarlord anyway because she’s one of my favourite writers but her Deadpool is simply sublime.

Iron Icarus@serzhantjamesbuchananbarnes  Jeeeeeezzzzz, this one hurt my heart.  Poor Tony doing pretty much what Tony does and you want to punch him and shout at him and then give him a huge hug and wrap him in bubblewrap, or maybe that’s just me.  Beautifully written and well worth a read.

Homesick - @thorne93 This series is the perfect blend of fluff and angst.  A reader with amnesia, Steve picking her up in the park, the introduction of Bucky… Go read this right now and then you too can know the delicious torture of waiting for the next part.

Sassy Stark - @redlipstickandplaid  Every imagined what it would be like to be Tony Starks daughter?  Imagine no longer, this fic is super cute and the relationship between the reader and Tony is exactly how I would picture it.  Loving this series.

Mess with Them - @redgillan  I love Friends, I love Marvel, I love this series.  The relationships between all the characters is so on point and fluffy!  

No Regrets@mar-gega  A lovely little series where Bucky is definitely awkward and clueless and it is gorgeous.  

The Lonely Tree @sarahwroteathing  This is one of my favourite series of all time ever and I am super sad that it’s over but the ending is just perfect.  I fell in love with Steve all over again with this fic and I hope you will too.

Road to Schkeuditz@aubzylynn   Being stuck in a car with Steve, Sam and Bucky as you drive across the country!! Set in CACW this is what ‘may’ have happened as they drove to Leipzig airport on their mission to clear Bucky’s name.  I like to think that this is how that journey went.

For Your Convenience@brighterlights  Oh. My. Goodness!!!!  Steve or Bucky?  Bucky or Steve?  This amazing series had me going from one to the other, back and forth.  It is such a good read and I think you should go binge read the entire thing now.

Originally posted by cindyctw75

Star Trek:

Shore Leave@imamotherfuckingstar-lord  This series officially killed me.  I am now dead.  How are you supposed to live your life after you get involved with McCoy AND Kirk?  I will never be able to write smut as well as this genius but as long as I can read her work I think I’m okay with that.

Originally posted by magnusbagginsglitter

Other Fandoms and Fics:

Wrong Number@totally-turtle-imagines I thought this little fic was so sweetand I’m kinda hoping that there may be more parts. I’m beginning to suspect I might be team Donatello when it comes to this fandom.

Flirt –  @plumfondler I’m not usually a massive Lance Tucker fan but this fic just seemed perfect for him.  I don’t think I could just be friends with him either.

Muffins@just-a-little-crazy  So a little foray into the Gotham fandom here and a little fluff with Victor Zsasz.  Even ruthless hitmen deserve muffins.  

Even the Playing Field - @sdavid09  So I have totally fallen in love with Fili after falling back into the Hobbit fandom.  The relationship between Kili and Fili is so well written and I really enjoyed reading this, it brought a goofy smile to my face.

Keep reading

“I prefer to draw a line between canon and fanon”

It seems that a few people are misunderstanding what I wrote here, but this is a very important point actually.
I am not talking about “whether a pairing is canon or not”, I am talking about whether a certain fact is something that happened in the series (or was explicitly confirmed by one of the creators) or not.

Very simple example:

-Does Yuuri move to St.Petersburg after the end of the series?
Yes, we could see that in the last episode and it’s also confirmed by the creators. = it’s canon

-Does Yuuri go to live with Victor in St.Petersburg?
The fact that he is running together with Makkachin in the ending might potentially hint at that, however it’s not confirmed visually nor any of the creators have ever mentioned it. = it’s not canon (not yet at least)

-Do I think that Yuuri is living with Victor in St.Petersburg?
Yes I like to think that because I believe it makes sense, however since it’s not explicitly backed up by any official information that is currently just my headcanon.

It’s the same reason why, even though I personally do think that the scene at the end of episode 7 was a kiss, I will never refer to it as “kiss” in any of my translation notes, because the creators explicitly said that they are not going to provide an answer to that question and they are leaving that scene open to each viewer’s interpretation. To respect the creators’ will (I respect the creators’ will and their work above anything else), regardless of how I myself interpret the scene I will comply with what they say and not force one single interpretation on the readers of my notes.

I am taking interview translations very seriously (maybe even too much, lol) and one of the things I’m most careful about is not to mix my headcanons and/or personal views with facts. For this reason, I try to keep the fangirling to a minimum (mostly I’m just not commenting at all), and this might sound cold to some, but it’s really just because I don’t want to influence who is reading. I want people to just read the interviews as they are. Then of course I might frown if I see some interpretations that I think are completely off the point, but usually I don’t go around flaming people’s posts because of that. I think, however, that translators have the responsibility to convey a meaning as correctly as possible, especially when what they write has an impact on the whole fandom, hence I get more upset if the one off the mark is a translator and not a reader. Then again it’s not like I make a post about every mistranslation I see around.

I am sure that most people reading this blog understand what I’m trying to say and that the ones who are misunderstanding are just a minority, but I wanted to make this one clear since it’s very important to me. If people still manage to misunderstand what I mean even after reading all my last explanation posts, well… *shrugs* You are free to prefer other translations. I am always open to criticism, so if you have doubts about something I translated just message me with the details and I will reply. 

Thank you for reading.