it's nice...yeah

you know with all of these posts going around about how not to idolize rick or bojack its only a matter of time when people are going to be “calling me out” because those two characters also happen to be my favorite in their respective cartoons.

not because I idolize them but because I also suffer from depression and its nice to see it being represented but not in the romantic way this hellsite promotes. theyre both good reminders that you shouldnt excuse your shitty actions just because youre depressed or whatever because it doesnt fucking matter what mental illness you have if you treat people with disrespect you gotta fucking own up to it you know?

its also nice to see characters that are also suffering from substance abuse disorder and not have their disorder being just for “comic relief” or taken lightly. its not “fuck yeah dude you party every night and get hammered tell some funny jokes because youre drunk and high hell yeah” and thats it. yeah both of these shows do have those moments but at the same time they make sure to remind you that substance abuse disorder isnt some glamorized fun zone. its a real disorder that results in the sufferer doing real, shitty actions towards those they care about. 

so yeah its nice to have mainstream cartoons that are actual good representations of substance abuse disorder and depression and what can happen if its not treated properly. I love both rick and bojack because of that and they both remind me that its never really too late for me to overcome my depression.

  • me: oh yeah i love old music!
  • some shithead: yeah!!!! its nice to see another young person with an OLD SOUL!!!! Someone who appreciates the CLASSICS not the DEGENERATE GARBAGE todays so called "MUSIC INDUSTRY" pumps out!!!! you must be a fellow intellectu-
  • me: hey I just remembered Tik Tok by Ke$ha is my favorite song, like, ever, i totally have to go and never speak to you ever again, those hashtag selfies wont take themselves, hashtag yolo smile emoji!!!!
[#12] hansol → 100 ways to say i love you

Originally posted by sneezes

12:『 “take my jacket, it’s cold outside. 』 

pairing: choi hansol x reader insert 

genre: fluff 

word count: 862 

→ 100wtsily prompts | masterlist

As golden sunlight begins dripping through the open window like honey and sets your skin alight, you’re reminded with a start of how the time has flown since arriving at Hansol’s apartment — he’s sitting beside you, headphone tucked into his ear, its twin in your own and a laptop half on his leg and half on yours. He’s still rather occupied with browsing through selections of music and talking animatedly about his favorites, far too preoccupied to realize that you aren’t fully paying attention to what he says. 

You’d been distracted by the little permanent grin on his lips that blooms when he goes into spiels on his passions, nodding your head and giving the occasional inquiry during appropriate pauses in his speech, but most of your concentration had been laser-focused on tracing his facial features with your eyes and knocking your fingers on your thigh to the rhythm of the music. He’d glance at you every now and then, grin bashfully with a flush to his cheeks, and you’d do something similar upon being caught, but neither of you said anything.

You could’ve stared for hours. But you didn’t and you don’t because that’s not something that friends, and only friends, are supposed to do. 

At this thought you sit up a little more upright against the surface of the headboard and the mountain of pillows piled up behind you, interrupting Hansol’s question of, “How do you like this one?” when queueing up another song. 

“It's… nice. Yeah, I like it,” you hum after another short minute of listening to the cacophony of bass and lyrics, bobbing your head once before tugging the headphone from your ear. “Um, hey, I should probably get going… The sun’s going down and I wanna head out before it gets too dark.” 

The look of disappointment only darts across his features for a moment before vanishing into his easy smile again. “Alright, that’s cool. See you tomorrow, yeah?” he asks expectantly, socked foot nudging at your own at the end of his bed. 

This starts an absentminded foot fight, and as you kick back at his own halfheartedly, you adjust the pillow you had clutched to your stomach and nod. “‘Course. I don’t have anywhere to be except for school.” Your nose scrunches up in exaggerated disgust, dissolving into a flushed, but laughing grin when Hansol reflexively places his forefinger on the bridge of your nose. 

As you both have been for the last two months, you don’t acknowledge the accidental, very un-platonic touches and pretend it never happened. And frankly, you’re growing exhausted with the facade. 

 With a loud groan as you stretch out your limbs from hours of sitting in the same position, you step out of bed and slip your shoes on, only to frown upon noticing the further darkening sky outside. Ever observant Hansol clearly takes note of the vague distress in your expression and takes a quick glance around his room. 

“Here, uh…” When you glance at him curiously, he hastens to pick up and awkwardly sniff the many sweatshirts he has laying around on the floor, only to deem them unsuitable for his unsaid purpose and peer down at the navy blue one he’s currently wearing. It’d only been washed yesterday, and who knows how long the rest of these had been laying on the floor— 

 “Here,” he blurts again before he can change his mind, reaching for the hem of his sweater and tug it off above his head. Unprepared, you unintentionally catch a glimpse of the skin of his stomach and feel heat rushing to your neck as you cram your lips together to keep from squeaking. It’s ridiculous, you reflect, because just years ago he could walk around half-naked and you’d only cringe. “Take my jacket, it’s, uh— it’s cold outside.” 

 He holds the article of clothing out to you, and with a swallow past the dry lump in your throat you accept it, not even daring to breathe as you pull it down onto your body. The sweatshirt’s baggy in the torso and comes far past your hands, but it’s warm and it’s Hansol’s and you find yourself not caring. 

 “T-Thanks…”

This is when you make a decision. A reckless, spontaneous decision — one that you’d certainly laugh at later as an adult when reflecting upon your teenage years — that you act upon without sparing it a thought.

 Neither of you can quite register what happened until you pull away from his cheek, the skin of your lips burning as hot as the entirety of your upper body, mustering up a flustered grin at the dazed gape on Hansol’s face. And just when he’s gathering the ability to form coherent sentences again, you’ve already disappeared out his bedroom door with a call of, “Bye, Hansol, see you tomorrow!” 

 When you step outside, you immediately hug his hoodie tighter around your form, completely torn between grinning like a madman and being so embarrassed that you’d never step foot outside again.

This is most definitely not something that friends do.

I want domestic Victuuri but I also want domestic Yuuri x Yurio

I mean yeah its nice to think Victor and Yuuri cuddling on a couch but have you ever thought of Yuuri knitting and Yurio catches him doing it and instead of mocking him or something, Yurio sits down and stares at Yuuri knitting and Yuuri eventually gives him his own pair and some yarn and mutely teaches Yurio how to knit and then they’re BOTH knitting and by next week, everyone has their own scarves www

OR Yurio getting sick of Victor and Yakov (as coaches) so he drags Yuuri away from both their coaches and goes shopping and he dresses Yuuri up in ridiculous leopard prints and its so adorable that Yuuri doesn’t care, he even has a leopard print tie that Victor threatened to burn but Yuuri takes it and locks it away from Victor cuz Yurio chose that tie for him and screw Victor, that kid is precious and Yuuri loves it.

Imagine Yurio slowly growing taller than Yuuri and starts leaning his chin on Yuuri’s shoulder or head when he gets lazy or getting scolded at (his version of sulking). Imagine Yurio getting touch-craved and slowly starts cozying up to Yuuri. Yurio being in Yuuri’s space, Yurio leaning against Yuuri’s back, Yurio having inside jokes with Yuuri. Yurio watching videos with Yuuri while sharing earphones, Yurio bodily protecting Yuuri from the press when they ask offensive questions, Yurio being comfortable around Yuuri. Yurio stopping Yuuri from drinking too much (but doesn’t fret too much when Yuuri gets too drunk and he has to help if Victor isn’t there). Yuuri and Yurio blanket snuggles when Yurio comes over to Victor’s apartment for movie nights and no, Victor is not jealous that the two of them are cuddling and cocooned in one blanket, he also DOES NOT take a picture for blackmail purposes.

Let me have platonic but loving Yuuri x Yuri please because they deserve to be each other’s friend AT LEAST.

Also, give me Yuuri Yurio hugs at the airport damn it because Yurio will miss the heck out of Yuuri when Yuuri goes to Japan (temporarily/permanently) and Yurio will never admit the manly tears he sheds during the hug. And Yurio texts for updates like every day and they even Skype because Yuuri knows that Yurio needs it but will never admit it.

Lastly, when they’re alone, when Yuuri is confident and wants to give elderly advice, or when Yuuri is trying to console Yurio, he lowers his voice and starts with a very soft but affectionate “Yura…” And Yurio will lower his head and listen because Yuuri is more than a friend, he’s family damn it.

So that Joji “Complation” album is on Spotify now and that makes it even more concerning. I noticed it has the older songs as well as the Boiler Room performances so I don’t know why he’d upload something like that, without any info on it as well.

Which means if it isn’t his, someone posted his music without his permission

And if he doesn’t know, he definitely should.
I think we should all go on Twitter, Facebook, etc. and ask about this so called compilation, because I really don’t think this is his doing. And if it in fact isn’t and he’s not okay with it, it should be taken down. Like yeah its nice to have a platform to listen to the songs on, but it wasn’t put forward by him as his album.

Every Breath Becomes A Prayer

commission for @whouffaldi-that-is-all, art done by @luluxa (who Tumblr won’t let me tag for some reason, sorry!), fic by me

AO3 Fic Link


The water is warm. Given how many planets the Doctor has been to in his lifetimes, there shouldn’t be anything on a level as basic as this that surprises him anymore, but it does, this time.

It’s probably the thunderstorm. The howling wind and the chopping waves that had raged so fiercely underneath Clara as the pirate held her over the side of the ship by her throat, and threatened to drop her if the Doctor came any closer.

The Doctor had been sure he could talk the Sarkanian down. He’d been wrong.

In his mind he can still see Clara falling, still hear the sound of her scream, feel the blood pounding in his ears as he had watched with horror as her tiny form had hit the waves with a clap and instantly disappeared.

Of course, within a second he had forgotten about the Sarkanian’s existence and dove overboard after her with no preparation but a shout of her name.

And now, the warm water envelops him as he tries to see her, tries to make out her form in the darkness. It’s hopeless. He digs in his pockets for a light, anything that might help, and finds a little flashlight he is able to shine through the dark, churning depths around him.

Panic seizes his hearts when he still can’t see anything, but then they leap in his chest when he sees the familiar shape in the water some distance away. It’s an effort to swim over to her, the churning current working against him with every push of his arms and legs, but he eventually gets to her.

She isn’t conscious.

He can’t let himself focus on that now, he can only hold her to his chest with one arm and use the other and his legs to push him towards the surface.

His respiratory bypass stops him from getting too oxygen-starved, but it still takes much longer than he would like, if only because he’s worried about Clara.

Finally, he breaks the surface and gulps in the humid air, looking around. The TARDIS had landed on a tiny island, one he can just make out now, not too far off. The island, when they had landed, had been occupied by a band of pirates - well, mercenaries, they called themselves - who had stopped to restock on water and food.

It hadn’t taken long for the Doctor and Clara to be taken as hostages, but then things had gone sour quickly, and now they were both overboard.

But he can get to the island. He can do it. Humans might have pitiful lung capacity, and pretty much laughable physiology in general, but they are also surprisingly resilient, especially when it comes to clinging to life, and there is none stronger than Clara Oswald.

All the same, worry has a tight grasp on both of his hearts. It almost chokes him as he swims for shore, but he ignores it, letting the mantra of she cannot die she cannot die she cannot die drive him on. She is still against his chest, and he shifts her to get a better grip, kissing her hair almost absently.

“Almost there, Clara, just hold on,” he murmurs. There is, of course, no reply.

The waves carry them in for the final leg and the Doctor and his aching arms are relieved.

The Time Lord and human are washed up on the dark sand, the warm water lapping at their legs, and the Doctor coughs out seawater, before pulling Clara just a bit higher up the sand.

“Clara,” he says, leaning over her, hands ghosting over her face. “Oh, Clara, Clara, why did you have to be so… obtuse?” He feels his lips twitch. “Yeah, I know, this coming from me.”

She isn’t breathing, and when he checks her pulse, it’s barely there.

He opens up her airway, braces his hands against her chest, and starts compressions. Not too hard, not enough to break her, but hard enough. He counts and lets his mind focus on the numbers, because the alternative is thinking about how her pulse had felt like it was fading.

Pause in compressions.

He lowers his head and covers her mouth with his, breathing as much oxygen into her as he can.

come on come on come on come on come on

He starts the compressions again, a bit harder, fuelled by even more desperation. “What was that you said to me, Clara? You die with the next person. You do not die with me.”

Another dip down, breathing into her with everything that he has. He stares, waits, and checks her pulse. He’s not even sure if he can make it out, or if it’s his hopeful imagination.

“No!” He shouts, slapping the sand with his palms before taking a deep breath, planting his hands back on her chest, and starting the compressions again. He will not allow this to happen. To keep Clara Oswald alive, he thinks he might just tear down the very sky above him, and that thought is terrifying, but somehow still not as terrifying as the prospect of Clara being dead.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

One detail I find really intriguing about their relationship is that Murdoc always compliments the things about 2D that might be considered weird or off-putting, like his eyes, hair or pallor. Like, I can imagine that (in universe) people might notice those things first and be like "Yikes" and then slowly have to get used to that to see that Stu's actually a cutie. Yet Murdoc straight up finds him pretty because of those features, not despite them. Idk, I think it's really nice, kinda??

Yeah. Though before it often came across as superficial since he would also insult everything else about him (i.e. personality, intelligence etc.) At the same time, we know there were times when they genuinely enjoyed each other’s company during phase 1 (i.e. staying behind for an extended vacation after the first album was recorded, 2D also called Murdoc beautiful back in phase 1). And idk, if the tone of this phase is any indication I’m hoping things have shifted (or are shifting) more towards the latter.

RoseGarden | "Cuddling" | Ruby Rose x Oscar Pine
  • Oscar: *Hugs Ruby, from behind* Hey.
  • Ruby: *Smiles* Hey.
  • Oscar: *Tightens his grip, a bit, around her waist*
  • Oscar: *Places his chin on her shoulder*
  • Ruby: *Turns her head, a bit, leans forehead light against his cheek.
  • Ruby: *Plays with his hair*
  • Oscar: *Smiles* Your in a good mood, today.
  • Ruby: *Chuckles* I could say the same, about you.
  • Oscar: *Laughs softly*
  • Oscar: *Kisses her forehead*
  • Ruby: *Grins*
  • Oscar: *Pulls Ruby closer, into the backwards hug* Any plans?
  • Ruby: *Thinks for a moment* I think this is fine.
  • Oscar: What? Me holding you like this, and you playing with my hair?
  • Ruby: *Nods* Mhm. It's nice.
  • Oscar: *Sighs* Yeah. I like it, too. *Smiles*
  • Oscar: *Kisses Ruby*
  • Ruby: *Smiles into the kiss*
  • Oscar: *Pulls away* Just so you know, you're never getting out of my grasp.
  • Oscar: *Tightens his grip, a bit more, around her waist*
  • Ruby: OSCAR!
  • Oscar: Oh, you and I, both, know you don't want me to.

seeingteacupsindragons  asked:

Honestly, I love your asks. I wasn't convinced I wanted to follow you when I first discovered the mafia au because of them, but now that I do you ('cause I got too interested in the au), talking to you is really fun and the asks feel like a conversation with everyone who reads it, and yeah. It's nice.

I mean, it’s totally fair to not want to follow someone because of floods of asks XD
Like, I totally get that it can be annoying at times ;w;
GLAD TO HEAR THOUGH, THAT YOU ACTUALLY THINK THEY ARE ENTERTAINING NOW ;A;
It makes me happy knowing talking to me is actually kinda interesting and stuff :’3
And yeah, I think it’s pretty nice to see what other people are thinking and how they feel about the AU ^^