it just reminded me of legally blonde

I want to get to know my new mutuals (and better get to know the old ones!) Please repost this and tag me and anyone else you want to see the answers for!

A fact about you that is not on your “About the Mun” page:

If you’re friends with me in-person, it won’t take long for you to want to disown me because I will be your personal Greek Chorus, but like, the one-person kind of chorus, so I guess it’s more like a Greek Solo?  I will sing from the top of my lungs whenever any situation reminds me of a particular musical number. And it’s almost always something from Disney, Les Mis, Legally Blonde, or Mary Poppins. Sorry, not sorry! :DDD

A fact about your muse that is not on their “About the Muse” page:

Makoto isn’t even aware of it when it happens because she just sort of eases into the zone? Her diction totally shifts and is very indicative of how comfortable she is around a particular person. She’s inclined to lean more towards the formal side of the syntax spectrum in regards to her inflection and choice of words. The more comfortable she becomes with a person, however, she’ll gradually loosen up. Most notable at the moment would be how shes texts @hisbatsy‘s Sayu and @gutspride​‘s Protagonist. I mean, for Makoto to use emoji’s for like, every single text?!?! She’s more than comfortable, in that case. 

A way that you and your muse are literally the same person:

We’re both bibliophiles and health-nuts. And our books cover the entire gamut of things from Alpha to Omega! Like, give us poetry, scripts, graphic novels, theology, philosophy, children’s stories like Dr. Seuss, anything! Books just give us so much life.

As for the whole health-nut thing, omg! You’ll probably want to disown me for this as well, but aside from the occasional “treat yourself” meals and social outings with friends, we’re both disciplined with taking care of our bodies because it’s so important and necessary for our emotional well-being, given the busy schedules that we have. A whole-foods sort of nutrition is our kind of Ten Commandments. But hey, at least we both love to cook.

A way that you and your muse are complete polar opposites:

Bikes … ? YIKES. Makoto digs the whole two-wheeler thing.  Put her in a three or four-wheeler and she’ll feel as if you’ve suffocated her and taken away all of her flexibility. But as for me, OMG NO. Put me on two-wheeler and I will cry because I’m just … NO. Just don’t. Please. 

One major pet peeve of yours (doesn’t have to be rp related):

I have Misophonia, which is basically a selective sound sensitivity syndrome. For me, it’s repetitive noises that are difficult for me to sit through because every repetition just feels like something physically tapping against my head. 

One thing that always makes you happy (doesn’t have to be rp related):

WHEN MY STUDENTS LEARN SOMETHING. There’s like, that very moment when you can feel and see the lightbulb turn on, like an aha! sort of look on their faces. And it’s just so precious to me. I love it and I get so happy and excited when it happens.

Tagged By: @heromask ( tysm for the tag, MY PRECIOUS TECHIE <3 <3  )
Tagging: @thuskindlyiscatter , @hisbatsy , @ninfc , @gutspride , @pawofmercurius + you see me do it and want to do ?  YOU DO IT TOO <3 <3

Useful shit I learned in my first year of college/and helpful shit for incoming freshmen

I’m watching legally blonde right now and it’s reminding me of my first year of college that just ended HERES WHAT I LEARNED

•read the syllabus, read the syllabus, read the syllabus - know when assignments are due, you’ll thank yourself later
•read the syllabus
•take paper notes - computer notes are fun and prettier but writing the material down helps you retain it better - type it up later
•dress for success - sounds dumb and cheesy but I always feel 100x more productive when I have a tie and a button up on. My go-to productive day outfit is a black button up w/ a blue tie with rolled up sleeves and black pants/“skinny” jeans (if that’s what they’re still called) and sneakers/casual shoes. I can run around in it and I feel successful as all hell. It doesn’t have to be as formal as that, it’s honestly up to you - whatever works for you works for you. I just find that I feel more like sleeping than working when I wear my sweatpants.
•try to score a three day weekend - not for leisure but for studying. You’ve gone 12/13 years going to school for 6 hours 5 days a week, you deserve a three day weekend every weekend. Or a four day one, if you don’t mind piling up your classes. It’s rewarding, trust me. It’s a lot more refreshing not having to squeeze in study time and actually having it.
•keep in touch with your professors especially the intimidating ones. Intimidating professors never scared me because I’m a lot scarier when I’m arguing for the sake of my grade.
•if you bring your laptop everywhere with you, bring the charger as well. You never know if you’ll sit in a class next to an outlet. Same with your phone if you hate having a phone battery lower than 60%. I had a three hour comm class last semester and I sat by an outlet that I used to charge my laptop or to prevent it from dying because I had another three hour class after that.
•EAT! I put off eating a lot in my first semester because I had other shit to do, don’t do that. Eat something in the morning especially. And bring snacks with you throughout your day.

If I think of any more, I’ll totally edit this post. But that’s all I have for now :)

SasuHina: Break-Ups Suck

So I have this headcanon…

Sixteen year old, Neji and Sasuke are working on a school project together and Neji gets put on babysitting duty for his six year old cousin, Hinata. Hinata is always claiming that she loves the Uchiha. Sasuke isn’t bothered by it because she is, in fact, a child.

Sasuke glanced down at the navy haired girl. She was quiet and seemingly smart. “No,” he answered Neji. “I haven’t, have you?”

Neji shrugged and brushed chocolate locks behind his ear and opened his folder. “You can look through these. I’m sure you’ll find one-”

“Nii,” Hinata whispered and tugged on his pants leg. “What color is this kitty?” She held up her coloring book.

“Hinata, please, we have to focus.”

Sasuke looked away from her saddened face. Onyx eyes rolled over the list of titles. He wasn’t reading or rather he couldn’t. The child was staring at her crayons as if it was so hard to color a cat. He groaned. “Look, kid.”

Hinata squeaked and brought her attention to the Uchiha. “Y-yes?”

“Color it whatever you want.”

“Even Bloo?”

Sasuke narrowed his eyes at her lacking vocabulary and had to remember that she is indeed a child. With a sigh, he nodded. “Sure.”

She then picked up seven different blue crayons. “All the bloos!”

“If you want.”

She giggled, showing off a single dimple. “M’kay!”

Neji isn’t happy that a single act of kindness from “an older male” has his cousin so goofy. Sasuke likes to piss Neji off by doing extra nice things for the little girl. The very week she starts school, Hinata begs Neji to take her to see Sasuke. Once there:

“I sorry, Sasu,” she pokes her fingers. “We have to b-break up.”

“Excuse me?” Sasuke humored her.

She climbed in his lap then cupped his face. “I met…” Her cheeks glowed at just the thought of the new blond boy in her class. “I met someone new.”

“Kind of thought we had something special?”

She giggled. “Silly Sasu. We like different bloos.”


Author Note: I don’t know, I just was feeling a platonic fluffy SasuHina. Of course, almost 13-14 years later Sasuke still reminds her of that moment.

April 12th, 2014 - Ugly

AUTHOR: seductive-tonia

April 12th, 2014 - Ugly

Ugly. That’s what Arthur thought of himself. I knew.

I saw the way England looked at himself, in the mirror. I first noticed a couple of decades ago. We would pass by a store, while walking down the street and I would see something I wanted, and my eyes would light up and I would start pestering him about it, that I wanted it for Christmas, or my birthday or Valentine’s Day, or whatever­ and then I’d see it.

I’d see him looking at the glass, and he would frown. His extremely thick eyebrows would knit together and he would begin to scowl just a bit. His expression would become very critical.

At first, for a while, I figured he was just looking at something in the display or someone in the store through the window and scowling in disapproval, in dislike. But eventually, I realized. Arthur was looking at himself. His reflection in the glass.

And it wasn’t just in store windows, I’d noticed after a few years. It was any mirror, whatsoever. Whenever England woke up in the morning, and rolled out of bed, out my embrace (dragging me along with him, of course), he would brush his teeth and wash his face and as he would comb his hair, he would look up in the mirror and frown at his reflection.

Needless to say, a he­ a good boyfriend, who loved the person he was with, such as I, was instantly alarmed. And after another decade or two (maybe around the 80s or 90s, when we were Safety and Humpty dancing it through the decade), I began to intervene. Whenever he would look at himself, and make that face, I would intertwine my fingers into his. I’d lean over and kiss his temple or his cheek or his nose or his forehead or maybe his lips.

He thought I was just being affectionate, though. That I was just trying to butter him up, to get him to buy me whatever knick­knack or toy or pair of shoes that sparked my fancy, naturally. But that wasn’t it. I genuinely cared about England’s happiness. I wanted Arthur to see himself as the beautiful man that I saw when I looked at him.

So, I made it my mission. Whenever we had sex, I would instigate it by kissing him, everywhere, and when we actually fucked, I would ask England to let me look at him while we were fucking. He had been apprehensive at first, having promptly turned a deep shade of crimson at the suggestion, the mere thought, of me seeing his “orgasm face” when we had sex. But, we did.

He had undressed for me, and I made sure I watched. I had kissed him, everywhere, taking my time, making sure he knew how much I loved him. And then, once we actually got to having sex, and we looked into each other’s eyes, he turned red. I felt that this was only natural, and continued…that is, until I saw tears form into his eyes.

“Engla-­ Arthur, what’s wrong?” I asked, my voice going from surprised to concerned and soft­toned in a matter of seconds. I pulled out and pulled him close, stroking his back, lovingly. “”Hey, baby, don’t cry. Please. What’s wrong?”

Arthur looked up at me and the expression on his face broke my heart. He looked absolutely mortified, and he was crying, not just tearing up. In fact, he was sobbing. He didn’t answer me, so I just held him there. I let him cry, just let him let it out. We just sat like that for a while, him crying and me holding him. I knew that if I were anyone else, he wouldn’t have let me see him cry. Eventually, he broke the silence.

“I don’t want you to look at me. I’m ugly.” He mumbled, softly, face buried into my chest, his long, narrow fingers playing with the dog tags on my chain.

I just lifted up his chin and kissed him. “You’re not ugly, sweetheart.” I reassured him, softly.

“Oh, cut that crap! I am ugly. I have bushy thick eyebrows and mustard yellow hair and a crooked smile and an upturned nose and I’m just…I’m ugly. It’s obvious.”

“…who told you that?” I asked, feeling sympathy for him. I understood what feeling ugly felt like, even though I haven’t felt that way in years.

“Everyone.” He replied, miserably, burying his face in my chest again. “Oh,” I asked, smiling at how cute this was. “Like who?” “Like France.”
“Do you really care what France has to say? I thought you hated France.” “Well, I do, but­ its just…I­” He spluttered, caught off guard, looking at me. I laughed, loudly and kissed him, sweetly. “England. It really doesn’t matter what France or
Japan or China or Russia or Zimbabwe or what anyone thinks about you.”

“What about you?”
“Not even me! It only matters what you think about you. I don’t think you’re ugly. I think you’re one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met. I love your thick eyebrows. They make you look regal, since they’re arched. And I love your blonde hair­ it reminds me of sand. Or the color of old legal documents preserved in a museum. And your smile makes me get butterflies…” I smiled at him, moving some hair from his face. “Only you can choose who to believe. Your boyfriend, who’s madly, insanely, utterly in love with you…or some random guy you hate.”

England looked up at me, and smiled in such a lovely way, I got butterflies again. He still had tears in his eyes, and I probably did too, from how happy I felt at that very moment, but I’ll never admit it aloud. Right then, right there, he looked absolutely­–

“But you don’t like my nose?” He asked, joking, laughing as he cried.
“Your nose is one of the cutest things about you.” I reassured him, kissing him, holding him, laughing and crying with him.