inspiration from the imagination

AH i’m too excited for this tbh . okay anyway hi im chevy n this is my lil badass winona, aka winnie.. below the cut are some lil things abt her. she’s a tattoo artist and tries to act #hardaf but in reality is a soft teddy bear !! ya ok like my post for plots but i’ll end up mssging everyone anyway

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“I’ll protect you… no matter what” 

Will never be over the fact, Victor and Yuuri tried doing lifts while fooling around during practice, and thanks to that, they ended up incorporating them in Yuuri’s, final, exhibition program.

JUST IMAGINE THE LAUGHS WHILE TRYING NOT TO LET THE OTHER FALL. IMAGINE THEM TRYING TO LIFT EACH OTHER, NOT BECAUSE OF THE ROUTINE BUT BECAUSE THEY JUST CAN’T KEEP THEIR HANDS OFF ONE ANOTHER. AND WHILE DOING IT, THEY BOTH AGREE IT MIGHT BE A GOOD IDEA TO GO ALONG WITH IT AND MAKE IT PART OF THEIR PAIR ROUTINE.

IMAGINE THEM MAKING RIDICULOUS PUNS ABOUT HOW ONE IS BETTER AT IT. TRYING TO LIFT EACH OTHER TO SEE WHO’S STRONGER. OF COURSE, VICTOR IS THE ONE WHO ENDED UP, DOING ALL THE LIFTS. (But Yuuri is not complaining.)

Having them fooling around after hours of practice, tired, but immersed in their own world, together. All the domestic bliss. Thank you, Kubo.

Based on what Kubo-sensei had to say, regarding episode 12, in interview from Pash! (2017/03). Credit for the amazing interview translation: @toraonice (Full translation of the interview).

Ruin

AN: There’s definitely some cheesy usage of the lyrics in Ruin. lol hope you guys enjoy it !


Originally posted by thugshawn

“He’s not good for you, Y/N. You know that, so why do you keep going back to him?” There was so much pain in Shawn’s eyes. He was the last person you expected to show up at your doorstep on a Saturday night.

“Shawn..why are you here? It’s late and I’m too tired to even comprehend what you’re saying.” You rub your temples, squinting against the light illuminating your front porch.

“Then think harder, Y/N. Please, because all I’m trying to do is help you.” Confusion has filled your mind, and you’re wondering where this is all coming from. Shawn had never shown signs of interest in dating you, or ever seemed to pay such close attention to your current relationship.

“I’m kind of taken aback right now. What made you think of this?” He walks closer, coming up the stairs. His hands deep in his pockets.

“I don’t like your boyfriend.”

“I’m getting that, but why?” He bounces back and forth on his heels and you can tell he’s trying to decide what to say next.

“Be honest,” you say, wanting nothing less.

“Do you think about me?” ‘Do I what?’

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Imagine hacker!you and hacker!Woozi simultaneously shaking your head and facepalming yourselves when spy!Mingyu accidentally set off a hidden trap.

You’re eating cake with Jimin and he gets some cream on his chin. He jokingly suggests that “you should lick it off for me~” but is completely startled when you really do it, his eyes wide open and a blush up to his ears "…o-oh"

6

Variations of Gothitelle’s evolution line based on different types of Lolita fashion. Click on each for a full view.

The standard Gothic type is the most common one people come into contact with. Designers became very influenced by Gothitelle’s black and white color scheme, which helped give birth to a new fashion, Elegant Gothic Lolita. 

As soon as other varieties were discovered, such as a very “sweet” looking Gothitelle with pink and blue colors, designers took notice and created more Lolita designs based on these variations.

If Lolita brands existed in the pokemon world, I’d like to think that some of them took inspiration from the Gothitelle line.

I imagined the brand name “Baby, The Stars Shine Bright” was based on the fact that Gothita kind of looks like a baby, and Gothorita/Gothitelle get their power from the stars. The brand name “Metamorphose“ could have also been influenced by how Gothita evolves and changes each time, lol. 

[I’m so proud of myself for finally finishing this thing. My depression made me not care about drawing anymore for the past several weeks, but I’m trying to get back on track again.]

Notes:
★ “Wa” = “Japan, Japanese;” Is used as an adjective in some compound words (washi = “Japanese paper”)
★ “Hime” = “Princess”

Please do not delete the caption.

She looked up at the sky, at the stars, and just stared. Stared for what felt like years but were actually five minutes. Her eyes moved from star to star and, even though all the stars looked the same to me, she seemed to find uniqueness in each one.
While still looking up, she finally opened her mouth and asked, “Doesn’t it scare you?”.
“No” I answered, “it actually makes me feel whole”.
She finally turned to look at my face. “That right there terrifies me” she said while pointing up at the sky, “the fact that that is so big and we are so tiny.
"It scares me that up there, there’s this silence that I - we - are not even aware of.
"It scares me that, in comparison, our fears mean nothing, the tears we cry are meaningless, our laughs have no importance, our deaths and our births are nothing but population becoming larger and smaller.
"I could say that I love you and it wouldn’t be different or unexpected because I am only one worthless person out of seven billion expressing her feelings”.
She looked up at the sky and I just stared at her. I stared at her freckles and her eyes and her lips and her nose. She was so beautiful and I couldn’t understand how she saw herself as something so meaningless and so worthless.
But, although I wanted to tell her what she meant to me, I couldn’t help but wonder: how do I explain to someone that feels so tiny and so unholy that, from my eyes, she is the stars, the moon, silence and noise? How do I tell her that she is the whole universe? How do I tell her that next to her I am the one that’s small and unsurprising and she is the one that is so wonderfully mysterious?
—  Excerpt from a book I’ll never write
Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is non-existent. And don’t bother concealing your thievery - celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: “It’s not where you take things from - it’s where you take them to.
—  Jim Jarmusch

It was 2 am. No text from Mark for days except that one “sorry, wrong text” text a couple days ago.

You were sitting on the couch of your shared apartment with your arms crossed and your frustration growing by the minute. Your head turned as you heard the fumbling of keys outside your apartment door.

You watch as the door open slowly. You continue to watch as Mark places his keys into your key bowl and swiftly taking off his shoes. He completely ignores you as he enters the bedroom. At this point, you’re fuming. You stand up and follow him into the bedroom. 

You usually just shrugged it off and gave him the silent treatment before he would apologize or vise versa. There was something that just… Clicked and you started to argue with him. It wasn’t healthy to start bring up things from the past, but one thing led to another and it escalated real fast.

This was the last straw. All the missed calls, missed dates, the warmth from him was gone. 

“I’m done. I’m done with you. I’m leaving!” You screamed with tears falling from your eyes.

“Fine, go then.” He coldly snapped back. 

You took a deep breath to compose yourself before slamming the door. You angrily made your way to the elevator and climbed on. You were already having second thoughts. You wanted to run back into the apartment and apologize, giving him hugs and kisses. You were about to… Until that feeling clicked again. You let the elevator close and that was the last time you saw Mark.

It was weeks since your fight. Mark kept calling, texting you and even visiting your work place. Every time, you barely escaped him. He was persistent. Where was that persistence when you were together? It wasn’t until you were closing up your work building that you saw Mark again. You tried to hurry up to your car, but he swiftly blocked your driver’s door.

“Y/N. Let’s talk please.” He begged, his voice almost as a whisper

“We don’t need to. You made it very clear that you don’t want to be with me anymore.” You replied, trying to grab onto your car handle. 

“That’s not what I said!” He exclaimed.

“I heard you loud and clear Mark, you ignored me for weeks… No text, no phone calls, not even saying hi to me when you just came back from your tour. Nothing. I don’t want to go through that again.” You spat out. You were angry, tired and depressed. 

You loved Mark. You didn’t know what to do with everything. Your hands instinctively reached out for his hands, but you quickly pulled back. Mark noticed and tried to reach out for you… You swatted his hands.

“… I just need some time away from you.” You whispered before pushing him slightly away from your door. You climbed in and turned on the ignition. You opened your window and lastly said your goodbyes.

“Get home safe, okay?” You said, before driving off.

Mark watched as you drove off. His heart was crushed. He never should have fought with you. He shouldn’t have ignored you all those weeks. He needed a sign. A sign from some higher power or something… He needed you back, no matter what it took. He loved you too much to let you go this easily.

Too Late - Simon Minter Imagine

hey boo boos, a new imagine coming your way! i got slight inspiration from a song called u just cant be replaced by gnash and imagination by shawn mendes. i also happened to think of this in the shower so i dunno. by the way, this is in simon’s perspective, so i hope you guys enjoy it, lemme know what you guys think. 

bel x

word count; 501

pairing; simon x (y/n) x jj


Why did I let her go?

I left her over six years ago, and I still feel so strongly towards her. It was so dumb of me to let my jealousy take over.

But here I am, standing in some dumb diagonal line, looking at how beautiful she looked in her creamy white lace gown walking down the aisle. Her thin veil was tucked nicely into her loosely tied-up curls, a few strands falling infront of her face. A beautiful bouquet of her favourite flowers, which included orangey-pink coloured carnations, baby’s-breath, and white roses, was held with a tight grip as she walked slowly.

She looked so beautiful.

Except she wasn’t walking down the aisle coming towards me. 

She was walking towards one of my best mates.

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