just felt the need to point this out

you know, a thing i think isn’t talked about nearly enough in this fandom is the fact that katara actually saved zuko’s life twice during the comet:

once when she actually, physically healed him and,

again when she took down azula without killing her

because, zuko was prepared to do it, he was willing to do it, he was going to do it because it had to be done but if he had killed, actually killed his own sister, who despite everything, zuko actually, truly loves (bc zuko loves, loves, loves his whole family, even though it’s broken, even though it’s bad, even though it’s truly, actually painful, they’re his and he loves them*), it would have destroyed him.

and like, idek anymore, but i can pretty much guess that zuko spent the whole trip to the capital psyching himself up and preparing himself for a lifetime as a kin-slayer and already starting down the spiral of self-loathing and then katara just… katatra just takes that burden from him. outright takes her down without putting a scratch on her.

and like, now that i think abt it, i’m like 95.15678354% sure that a not-unsubstantial part of the reason zuko chose katara to go with him was because he was hoping that she would figure something out, how to take azula down with minimal damage (bc zuko knows that katara is strong and powerful and prbbly the greatest waterbender in the world at that point, but also incredibly, astonishingly merciful).

i am actually 100% sure that if azula hadn’t cheated, if the agni kai proceeded as it seemed to have been going and zuko won, the very first thing he would have done is to turn to katara and say: “help her“.

idk, i guess that the point is that these kids cause me actual, physical pain and i just felt the need to spread it around

*and if anyone wants, i’m 100000% willing to give you canon evidence of this, starting from “the fatherlord“ to “i remember when my family was actually happy“

anonymous asked:

I think we all know that jungkook is just generally obsessed with jimin's everything but there's just something about him holding jimin's waist that's just so heart warming and boyfriend-y and natural there's literally nothing cuter

Okay but…listen…..you really wanna know what’s cuter? Jimin loving Jk’s waist just as much


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Enough is Enough

Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,067

Warnings: slight panic attack, language, asshole Dean 

Request: Can I request an imagine where the reader lives with the brothers at the bunker & Dean is always a jerk to her & then one day she has a panic attack & then fluff ensues…

Summary: Reader has lived & hunted with the boys for 3 years & usually puts up with Dean being a dick pretty well. One night, she can’t take anymore and has a panic attack.

A/N: Enjoy!! Feedback greatly appreciated!! And thank you to @mamapeterson for just reading over this before I posted it lol wasn’t too confident on it tbh but I hope y’all like it!!

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Best Friends (Part 1)

Summary: Meeting in college, you and Bucky strike up a friendship. And that is all there is, until Bucky realizes he’s in love with you. But it might just be a little too late for that. 

Word Count: 882

A/N: Another one, Tesla? Yep. I’d apologize but nahhh. This is based off of “Made of Honor.” Hope you all enjoy!

Originally posted by duckybarness

The words were becoming blurry on the screen and you knew you had probably written an entire page of incoherencies by now. Rubbing at your eyes with the heels of your hands, you took a deep breath and exhaled through your mouth, lips flapping at the force of the air leaving. Scratching behind your ear in frustration, you knew you had to go to bed and finish your paper the following morning. You were hopeless. Sleep was necessary, no matter how ahead you wanted to get on homework.

The party outside was still in full swing, but you were used to that by now. Your dorm was known to have the best parties in the campus and tonight was a Thursday. Tonight’s party was a prelude to tomorrow’s they said, but that didn’t make it any less rowdy than any other rave.

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Right Here

Logan Howlett x Reader, angsty fluff. 

“Breath, you idiot.” Logan muttered as he cradled your body in his arms. “Come on, kid.”

Your eyes remained closed, arms limped at your side. Logan’s heart raced and he cursed under his breath just as the Blackbird appeared from the sky, landing down a few yards away.

“About damn time,” Logan stood up with you in his arms and raced toward the aircraft. He was supposed to protect you, but he had turned his back and you were hit in the chest. The bleeding hadn’t stopped and a sinking feeling came over the man. It was stupid, he had promised himself never to get close to another person again. But then you walked right into the mansion, all attitude and grace, knocked him on his ass once while dueling and he felt himself slip. After so many years, he had let you in. And now you were dying in his arms and there was nothing he could do, except hope and shit he didn’t have much of that left in him.

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it’s a song about kids writing to me and some of the time it’s really heavy and inappropriate, like kids telling me they’re going to kill themselves that night, which is really unfair on me because I can’t do anything about it. So, “Don’t Lean On Me” is “don’t lean on me, because I’m having the exact same fucking issue right here”. I try and give kids help and point them in the right direction, but there’s only so much I can do.” “I don’t feel physically equipped to handle some of these notes. I have felt physically ill after reading some of these letters, just hearing the sheer desperation is enough to bring tears to my eyes…  I am dealing with depression and anxiety, so I can fully empathise with everyone out there that has it, to whichever degree they are dealing with it, but I remain an inadequate as an advice-giver. Sometimes the only advice I need is knowing that someone out there understands and I hope I can give that to you personally” – Joel Birch on “Dont Lean On Me

anonymous asked:

So how do you really feel about the whole thing? Like where do you stand?

Alright, this is my take on it, this is how I feel, and frankly, I don’t care what the rest of fandom thinks so there ya go.

Personally, I feel like they both fucked up. Something was lost in translation, and they’re both guilty of their own demons in this. Before Ohm even said anything, he was filtered out of Bryce’s comments, so that means something was going on before hand. Whether that be with what I said about fans previously, or something else, who knows? 

Ohm has since clarified that he wasn’t throwing shade at Bryce. I don’t know if you lot have fucking forgot, but Ohm has an eating disorder. He forgets to eat because his body has adjusted from the time he was homeless, to not being able to afford food every day. That being said, with everything going on with Toonz and now Bryce, Ohm probably felt the need to throw in his point that it’s okay if you’re not ripped, that there is more to being healthy than just eating right and the physical aspect. That getting a six pack won’t automatically make you healthy, you can be ripped and still be sick as hell. Too much of a good thing is a bad thing. Ohm wasn’t trying to pick fights, but he was speaking out for the people who may be struggling, people who look at Toonz and Bryce and see the amount of progress they’ve made in such a short amount of time and feel like they aren’t doing enough or that they aren’t good enough. 

Bryce started the shit show with assuming that Ohm was being rude to him. Instead of DMing him and asking what he meant by all that, Bryce took it upon himself to make it public that he felt like Ohm was throwing shade. But Bryce is the angel, the goody two shoes of the group that can do no wrong evidently. Ohm isn’t necessarily innocent either when Bryce initially responded Ohm should have said what he just posted immediately. Then the thing with Toonz happened. At this point you have fans, hundreds of people coming at Ohm, demanding he apologize, you have fans fight fans trying to keep the peace and just wanting people to let things be and let them figure it out. 

Toonz has been “picking” on Bryce the last few days, he made a comment about Bryce’s new twitter icon saying he “looks like a cancer survivor” and then on the video itself, made a comment “you look like a Holocaust survivor”. Bryce joked back on both of those, at least liked the comment on his video. Well this was tweeted at Toonz, and he retweeted it making fun of the pause game, and Ohm responded about how Bryce got pissed at him but is okay with being called a Holocaust survivor. To which I agree with Ohm, that’s some backwards fucking logic, and I would be pissed about it too. As for Ohm blocking Bryce, Bryce had him filtered out first, so technically Bryce did block Ohm first, and is playing the victim. 

So where do I stand? In the fucking middle. I sympathize more with Ohm because he is getting the short end of the stick here. I don’t know why, and I don’t know how, but everyone is making him out to be the villain. It’s the same shit I saw with the whole Toonz vs Terroriser drama months back. Neither are in the clear, they aren’t, but fans are making it 100x worse than it needs to be. How the fuck would you feel if someone misrepresented you and your notifications blew up with hundreds of people calling you a monster? Saying they have no respect for you? That they’re unsubbing? That you are rude and need to apologize? His heart was in the right place, he misspoke, but guys, twitter isn’t like Tumblr, I can make these long ass posts, twitter you have 140 characters to get a point across and nobody likes a chain thread! Ohm tried to keep it sweet and to the point and he’s being attacked for speaking up for people who have eating disorders, people who can’t gain or lose weight, people who are suffering from depression, anxiety, people who are skin starved. 

He didn’t get it across correctly but he didn’t mean any harm in it. I’m disgusted how fast fandom will jump ship and start full on war with itself, over a guy who has done nothing but been nice and supportive. Use your fucking brains, stop being sheep, and stop sticking your fucking nose where it doesn’t belong. I don’t care if Ohm apologizes or not, I don’t care if Bryce does or not, I don’t care if they start playing together or never again. I don’t care because it’s their life, their personal lives. So while I do stand in the middle, I will defend Ohm because fuck you all for being so damn quick to stab him in the back.

The Only Exception

MASTERLIST

Requested: no but a little angst never hurt anyone. also shoutout to Emily for being awesome. 

Word count: 3,001

Shawn was the kind of guy that on the outside seemed like such an innocent boy, but those who actually knew him, knew that was the biggest fake facade you could ever come across. 

I couldn’t count how many girls he had slept with only using my ten fingers. I couldn’t keep up on the names of the girls that had walked out of our front door after a night out and I surely couldn’t keep track on how many girls, he snuck in late at night when he thought I was sleeping. 

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Part 2 of Lachesism! Lance

Hey guys! Since everyone has been asking for a part 2 for my lachesism I decided to continue it (also you guys are too sweet seriously)! I hope you enjoy it :)

You can find that post here : Part One

You can check out some of my other mini fics here


There in the middle of the hangar, sat Lance surrounded by a hurricane of black that swirled faster with each passing second. His eyes were squeezed shut, not seeing the paladins, yet they all felt like he just knew. It was when he opened his eyes that all hell broke loose.

Lance’s eyes glowed a pale blue amidst the chaos of the black storm surrounding him. He almost seemed to stare at the team unseeingly, his eyes shining unnaturally. 

“Lance?” Shiro asked,”…What’s going on?” He didn’t reply, the only movement he made was the slow blink of his eyes. “Buddy, I need you to work with me ok? What is happening?” Shiro tried again, only to be greeted by silence. The team was beyond freaked out at this point, because where the Lance they knew? What was this, this thing in front of them?

“Lance you better knock it off! This isn’t funny man!” Hunk yelled, taking a step forward, “Let us help you!” 

Lance cocked his head to the side, his brows furrowing. “Blue is someone here?”

If the team thought they were freaked out before, then damn, they were terrified right now. Lance’s voice was creepy, it was as if someone layered his voice a thousand times, each one seeming farther away than the one before it. 

“Can he not hear us?” Pidge whispered, her voice sounding smaller than usual. 

“Blue can you please tell Lance that we’re here to help?” Shiro asked, but the Blue Lion was not listening. Her eyes were fixed on Lance and Lance alone, who was now slowly standing up, the storm around him condensing to two black orbs that sat in each of his hands. 

“Whoever it is, can you please tell them to leave? I’ve almost got this part down! See,” Lance said, dispersing the two orbs into multiple orbs that circled his head,”I’m finally getting the hang of this thing!” The team stared at the menacing blackness that loomed over Lance, who seemed unaffected by the eerie energy it was giving off. 

“That’s it, the show is over,” Keith growled, stomping over to Lance determinedly.

“Keith no! We don’t know what’s going on!” Shiro shouted, reaching out for Keith, only to just miss him. He could only watch as Keith made his way to Lance and grabbed his arm. 

The movement above Lance’s head stopped as he turned to face Keith, his eyes still glowing that pale blue. 

“Snap out of it Lance! You need to tell us what’s going on!” Keith shouted, gripping Lance’s arm tighter. 

“Keith? W-what are you doing here?” Lance stuttered, his eyes going wide and his breath beginning to stiffen. “Blue? Why is he here?” He began to shake, the black orbs above him started to reform into a storm. “Y-you need to let go of me Keith. Y-you n-n-need to let go of me r-right now.”

“Like hell I am!” Keith yelled, “You need to let us help you Lance!”

He didn’t seem to be listening, his eyes gaining that unnatural glow to them once again. The hand touching Lance’s arm began to burn, causing Keith to let go briefly. The effect was already beginning, however, despite Keith letting go. Big fat tears welled up in his eyes and hole seemed to form in his chest, this aching feeling setting root within him. 

“Oh god, oh god, oh god, I’m sorry Keith, I-I didn’t mean to give that to you, let me help ok? Let me just-” And just like that, the feeling was gone, contentment taking its place. Keith could only stare at Lance with his mouth open in shock. The glow began to dim from his eyes, returning them back to normal and the darkness practically vanished in moments. 

“How the hell did you just do that?!”

“Umm… what do you mean?” Lance asked, playing with his fingers. 

“What do I mean? How about the whole, my-emotions-just-went-from-fucking-depressed-to-sunshine-and-rainbows in two seconds??” Keith shouted, causing Lance to shrink into himself even more. 

“Um.. well you see-”

“Hold up, wait just a moment. What just happened. Like right now, in this moment, what is going on?? Because there was a huge storm above your head like a minute ago and now its gone??? You had glowing blue eyes and did something to Keith?? What is happenning?????” Hunk interrupted, stepping in between Lance and Keith. 

“Uhhh, well-”

“What the fucK?? Don’t give me that look Shiro, because I just watched some freaky shit happen. How did you even do that? When did you even start doing that? Could you always do that? What even is that? What-” Pidge rambled, gesturing around her as Lance refused to meet any of their eyes. 

“All right, how about we all give Lance some space ok? Let’s all go to the lounge and talk about this peacefully, alright?” Shiro intervened, going to place a hand on Lance’s shoulder before hesitating. “We’re going to need you to tell us what’s going on, ok Lance?”

Lance continued to stare at the floor, simply nodding before leaving the hangar. 


Lance was in a state a shock at the moment. He couldn’t believe how stupid he was, what idiot lets their biggest secret get discovered that easily? He barely even put up a fight and now here he was, sitting in the lounge, about to explain to the team how much of a screw up he was. He let out a sigh and stared at the empty couches in front of him. Maybe he could just take their anger away so they wouldn’t kick him off the team?

No, that would just prove he’s more pathetic than he already was. For once, Lance wished he couldn’t feel, that all these dark emotions would disappear like he had done for others in the past. 

“Lance can you explain to all of us what happened in the hangar?”

Explain? 

“Well umm… I was practicing,” Lance said, twiddling his fingers nervously.

“Practicing?” Allura questioned.

“Yeah I was practicing my…powers. Trying to make them stronger I guess.” He refused to meet anyones’ eyes, choosing to stare at his fingers instead.

“And what are these powers?” Shiro probed, leaning forward a bit,”What are you able to do?”

“I can, I can… control emotions. Not like that! Like I can take away emotions and kinda harvest them I guess? And replace the emotions I took away with different ones,” Lance clenched his fist, forcing himself to explain further to avoid having to look at his teamates, his friends. “I was trying to put them into a physical state, so I could use them in combat and just to get them out of me. I’ve never tested one of the orbs on someone, but I know if you were to touch one you’d feel all the emotion pent up in there.” He created a small one, reaching inside of himself for that energy that was always there, ignoring the slight gasp that came from Allura. Lance shrugged half-heartedly, “It’s something I’ve been able to do since I was fifteen.”

“Have you ever…took some of our emotions?” Hunk asked quietly, placing a gentle hand on Lance’s shoulder. 

“I uh…yes. I just, I couldn’t stand knowing you guys were upset and that I could do something about it. Everyday I could feel your emotions and I just felt so, so guilty that I wasn’t doing what I could to help!” Lance spit out bitterly, rubbing a hand through this hair. 

“Lance… you shouldn’t have done that. Those were our emotions and you shouldn’t just take them from us without even telling us!” Keith yelled, standing up, “You had no right to make that decision!”

Lance looked up at them all, his eyes beginning to glow once again. “What did you want me to do? J-just sit there and let you feel that pain, watch as it festered and boiled inside of you? How could I do that to a person, to my friends?” Lance clenched his fists, his eyes slowly turning to that pale blue color. “Why can’t you just let me feel useful for once?”


Part Three

Sometimes I Forget

Sometimes I forget. I get caught up in the surface of Dear Evan Hansen. I focus on the ships. I focus on the memes. I focus on the headcanons where they are alright and Connor is alive and Evan is happy and Jared shows emotion. Alanna opens herself up and Zoe doesn’t have the weight of her abusive brother sitting on her shoulders. I resort to thinking of that because that is the story I want in the end. That is what I want for all of them; We all want that for them.

But listening to the whole show on live audio, I remember. Connor is dead. He was so sick and unsupported that he felt that committing was the only way out. Evan isn’t just a quirky awkward teenager. He has crippling social anxiety and often cannot ask for the help he needs. Jared hides his emotions because he is incredibly insecure to the point of having to cover it up with sarcasm in order to feel okay. Alanna has trouble connecting with people, so she pushes herself away. Zoe WAS abused by Connor, and it affects her a lot.

This show isn’t happy. This show isn’t a fun show filled with laughs and good times. It’s heartbreaking. And it’s supposed to be. But it’s also supposed to be warm, and relatable, and make you feel things that a lot of other musicals (or media in general) often don’t want to make you to feel. That’s whats so incredibly special about this show. It means something. It stands for something.

As fun as it is to get caught up in the little fun aspects of the show, I feel like at times, we all forget. Make sure to remind yourself sometimes.

DUFF (CHAPTER 5)

Originally posted by theking-or-thekid

Chapter 5

╳ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

╳ Genre: fluff, smut, angst

╳ Summary: Being the Duff has really changed you.”“Excuse me, the Duff?” I asked, my voice rising a little at the end.“You know, the Designated. Ugly. Fat. Friend.”


No missed calls. No missed texts. Nothing.

It’s been 5 days since Jungkook and I’s little fling.  Most of my thoughts have been swarming around him. Disgusting, right? How am I supposed to act when I see him next? Am I supposed to act like it didn’t happen? Still treat him like the dick he is? But because I kind of liked it, should I act grateful? Okay, fuck that. The last option was too far. And I absolutely did not like it.

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anonymous asked:

I'm new here, sorry to bother, but why won't answer any paperfresh questions?

Warning: Long post so yeah… hence why the read more o-o

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Something There

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Words: 871

Warnings: Fluff

Anon asked “Can you write a Bucky x reader fic where they have been best friends for ages and Bucky loves the reader (platonic) and one day they are doing something and he watches the reader smiling or laughing and it’s he realizes he is in love with her and kisses her or something fluffy please”

A/N: Some fluff to mend your broken hearts after that last request. Let me know if you want to be tagged.

Permanent Tag List: @meganlane84 @mizzzpink @bringmetheemobands@kimistry27 @fireandicewillsuffice @vacam79 @amrita31199 @badassbaker@feelmyroarrrr @aekr @sexy-sea-basss @isaxhorror @actual-bucky-barnes-trash @cassandras-musings @kimistry27 @mo320 @ssweet-empowerment

Originally posted by thecouplesromance

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5

Every fandom needs an avatar crossover amirite

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Yes, but. Think of this:

Newt’s suitcase is bigger on the inside. It’s big enough to live in, even - many of Newt’s creatures do. After a while, Newt does. He adds charms to it bit by bit, step by step at a time, and they layer up and mix and integrate in all sorts of new and interesting ways. Newt doesn’t know what he’s doing, not really (Hogwarts drop out remember?) but he knows enough and he can make up the rest and it all seems to work so why worry? Newt is not the worrying sort.

And then, Newt’s suitcase needs some protections. He likes Tina, Tina is a bro now, but let’s not forget that she closed the lid and sat on his suitcase, picked it up and carted him off to MACUSA like so much laundry in a basket. So, Newt adds some… enhancements. Notice me nots, to begin with, chameleon charms, the usual sort. A few barrier wards - you need a key, now, to open the case (or for Newt, a click of the fingers, but that only works for Newt). And then, his pride and joy, the ability to apparate the suitcase while standing inside it and take everything - case, creatures, all of it - with you, safely out of danger and out of reach of various MACUSA holding cells.

Well. “Apparate”. It’s not quite apparition. It’s disappearing from one place and reappearing in another, and it’s controlled via a runic matrix so huge and complex that he has to roll it up into a giant cylinder and stand it almost directly under the entrance to the case. Except, then, you can’t get in because there’s a giant control cylinder in the way, so he moves things about a bit and shifts the case onto its side so that it’s more like a real door and less like a trap door. It’s different, but it’s all good, even if it takes a while to load up the not-apparition and it makes a funny whooshing sound while it’s working.

Then, then then then, why travel the normal way? Why bother with boats and trains and all of that, why not just move the case? It’s tricky, mapping where he wants to go, and the runes are now unhelpfully rolled away in the cylinder - he’s had to put a barrier round it to keep the creatures out - so he adds all these levers and knobs and twiddly bits and he’s got a control panel going.

He doesn’t always end up where he ought, but he’s close enough. And if he slides about in time a bit, well. The muggles have known about space-time for twenty years now, and he’s usually mostly right. Mostly.

He ends up where he needs to be, and that’s the important thing. He suspects, actually, that his case is interfering a bit here - it’s got so much magic in it now that he wouldn’t be surprised if it’d developed a bit of sentience. He gets in the habit of talking to it as he bustles about, much like he would to any of his other creatures, and it seems to keep the case happy. Why on earth it felt the need to jam the chameleon charms on a phone box of all things though is beyond him, but. It’s still all good.

Then it turns out that “where he needs to be” is at various points “a thousand years in the past” or “two galaxies over” and he runs through space and time (hell of a lot of running involved in this saving-creatures things, which evolves into saving-people things, which somehow become saving-planets and Newt just keeps running) and it’s not all good anymore. It’s friggin awesome.

(And then, just because, Newt drops back into New York in his phone box suitcase. He leans out the door and he holds out his hand and he says, “There’s a whole universe waiting. Come with me?”

The case hums behind him, the slowly spiralling runes of the control column glowing with a faint golden light. The niffler scurries round trying to catch, scuffling paws pressing who knows what buttons and levers that the case carefully puts back behind it. There’s new habitats in the depths of the case, ice tundras where the ood can sing and never be slaves, shadowed forests where the vashta nerada lurk, a pocket of space that stretches impossibly large for when the last space whale in the universe comes to call.

“Come with me?” Newt asks, and Credence takes his hand and steps into the stars.)

(Alternatively: “Come with me?” Newt asks. Graves lifts his coffee and tries to drown himself in it.

“How illegal is that contraption?” he asks from behind his mug.

“It’s perfectly legal!” Newt protests. “They don’t get around to outlawing it until at least the twenty eighth century.”

“The twenty eighth century oh god.”

“On this planet. It might be more illegal on other planets. Maybe.”

Oh god.”)

2AM - part 9 (A Minseok Series)

Genre: Angst / Romance

Characters: Minseok X You

2AM [M] - Canon AU - Angst / Smut part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10

”Love?” Minhee’s voice rang out from behind the door and you knew the meaning behind her incredulous tone in an instant. “Are you seeing him again?”

“We are friends again. That’s all.” Your defense was quick, as was the speed of you moving aside so she could walk through your door. Saying it outloud felt strange. You could still feel the wet kisses he had playfully smacked against your cheek before he left. Your fingers longed to run along the softness of your own face the more you lingered on the recent memory.

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I’ll Wait (1/2)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Words: 3,709

Summary (request): Bucky declares his love for Y/N on a day he shouldn’t. 

Warning: Angst, but some adorableness as well. 

A/N: So this was also a request by a darling who wishes to stay anonymous, she said I could write whatever I wanted and dedicate it to her, so here goes, darling. Hope you enjoy! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated, much love to you all! 

Part 2


“I’m in love with you,” Bucky said as confidently as he could. His steel blue eyes were boring into yours as his heart beat at a frantic pace.

You didn’t answer him, only stared at him with a blank expression. It was only because he knew you better than you know yourself, he could see your lower lip slightly trembling.

“I know I have no right to say this to you,” he quickly added, taking a small step towards you. You didn’t move, only looked at him with stern eyes and lips pressed into a thin line.

“Especially not now,” the sadness in his words lingered hard in the room as he looked at you from head to toe. His eyes met yours again, and he knew his eyes displayed the heart-wrenching sadness he was feeling in his chest.

“But I knew I would regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t tell you,” he took another small step towards you and when you didn’t move, only looked at him with an unreadable expression, he slowly lifted his left hand to cup your cheek. The corners of his lips lifted in a small smile when you didn’t flinch or move. His hand was centimeters from your face when you abruptly stepped back, eyes never leaving his.

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~*~Bath Time!~*~

Here is my list of tips and tricks for of bathy goodness. This is just what I like to do and have done in the past. Keep in mind it can all be taken with a grain of salt [literally!!]

Preparing the Bath

🛀🏻 HOT water. I find it super cleansing and sweating is really good for you. I like to sit in the bath and my face sweats and im like YEAH lets cleanse this bod inside and out. pls dont burn yourself though peeps.

🛀🏼 Oils! My go-tos are lavender + coconut oil. I do 7-10 drops of lavender and one or two spoonfuls of coconut oil. Lavender for smell and relaxation and heavenly goodness, coconut for super smoothness of skin. If you are going to use other essential oils please do your research and make sure they are skin-safe! I also generally tie up my hair to keep it out of the oiliness.

🛀🏽 Epsom salts if you got em!

🛀🏾 Candles + crystals can line the tub as desired. I usually have all the bathroom lights out + 4 candles going at the foot of the tub. dont light your towel on fire.

🛀🏿 Cup of tea on the side! I like this for the added internal + external cleanse of the bath. Hot + nourishing on the outisde and hot + nourishing on the inside.


This is what I do and think about in the bath!

💧 oh my gosh water how healing you are, how cleansing, how warming.

💧 the water and oils im sitting in are literally soaking into my skin right now. the essence of this tub is entering my body

💧 touch your body. you’re naked right? perfect. time for some self body love. tell yourself you love your legs, while touching them. “i love my little toes.” “look at how nice my hands are.” “i love my pretty/handsome face.” “my brain is so smart and quick and calm.” “i love every little hair on my body.” “i have the coolest belly button” tell yourself things that you dont instinctually believe. go after the parts that you’re self conscious about “i love my tummy” “my bum is amazing” “my arms are the perfect size” “this is my favourite flabby bit” etc.

💧 drinking the tea if you have it- the heat and intent of that tea is permeating through all your internal organs. feel the heat through your mouth, esophagus, stomach, feel it blend in with the heat from the water entering your skin. full body heaty hot heatness

💧 the other day when i was in the bath i put my forehead/third eye on the faucet and pictured the vast network of pipes around the city supplying water to everyone. I thanked the water source and sent my energy throughout the pipes to hope that everyone was using it for good and healing and nourishing ways

💧 deep deep breathing. this is cool if your chest is below the water because when you exhale it sinks down and when you inhale it rises up. you can sync this motion with a prayer, mantra, chant, intention, whatever you wish!

💧 meditation. feel the heat, listen to your heartbeat, imagine all the little water molecules full of heat energy, vibrating, sending you their little blobs of heat energy into your skin, fueling your own little internal fire

💧 my FAVOURITE thing is the end of the bath. I sit in it, sometimes cross legged or curled up in a ball with my head on my knees and unplug the drain and stay like that while the whole tub drains. I picture the water whisking away all the negative in me and draining away. It’s like a re-birth! you can slowly feel your body get heavier and heavier as the water gets lower. Keep picturing the water taking away the bad and keep thanking it for cleaning you and nourishing you and healing you. seriously, how generous of the water to not only GIVE YOU it’s nutrients and warmth and thirst quenchy goodness, but to also take away all your badness, all your negativity, all your dirt and grime and leave you revitalized. water is so selfless. water is the best. thank you water.

💧 now that you are reborn as a new human (or otherwise) you can breathe and feel the differences in your body and just marvel in the smoothness of your skin and warmth of your body and heavenly bathy feelings that just soaked into you.

💧 another thing that might be cool is to weigh yourself before and after the bath. Your weight will go up like 2 or 3 pounds after you get out of the bath, which i find super cool. PROOF that the water is literally entering your body through your skin and staying there to heal you up real nice.

The most important thing IMO:

Do what comes to you naturally. all of this stuff just came into my head at different points in bath time and felt right for me to do. meditation might help you connect with that intuitive part of you that tells you what you need. if you get an urge, follow it. if your brain/body/soul tells you to stand up and sit down a bunch of times, or to dunk your head in or to blow bubbles or to splash with your feet, DO IT! just be safe and don’t hurt yourself or light anything on fire.

🐳The End🐳

OK sorry this post got out of hand but as you can tell i really like baths and water and bath meditation. This is something i’ve been doing for a while and it all came to me kind of naturally so forgive me if it is not specifically inclined toward a perspectives or approaches that you normally adhere to. I’m open to questions n things <3

ENJOY PALS!!

anonymous asked:

What If one of the fakes had a high school reunion or something like that and just took the crew and it somehow ended in a shoot out with the cops.

Let’s just be clear, it’s not a pride thing. Geoff has never cared what people said about him, not outside a professional sense anyway; he knew exactly who he was, what he was capable of, even before he’d taken an entire city to its knees. So it’s not that he felt the need to prove himself, it’s just that there’s something particular about high school trauma, isn’t there? Something that lingers, even when it shouldn’t, something that emerges from even the most upstanding adults when thrown back together for a reunion, the bullies and the bullied, all desperate to show what they’ve become.

Geoff’s last high school was nothing like he’d ever been to before, a snobby upper-crust hellhole he was only in because his Ma’s third husband pulled some strings, and the other students were quick to point out just how much he didn’t belong. Between the tattoos and the smoking, the lazy looks and slow sneering drawl, it was always all too easy to label Geoff a loser, a drop out, trailer park trash everyone knew would be washing their cars one day. Never mind that he scored higher than most of his cohort even when skipping more or less every class, never mind that he is possibly the most well-read crime-lord in the country, back then he had an image and teenagers are relentless. Not that Geoff was all that phased even at the time, only a year or so away from the day he picked up his first gun and never looked back, but it’s the principal of the thing.

So when an invite forwards through from an email so old he’d forgotten he’d even made it Geoff has to laugh. Then pause, consider, hatch an utterly ridiculous idea, and laugh some more. Because he might not care, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t enjoy ruining the night for all the pathetic stuck-up nobodies he went to school with; rubbing your success in everyone’s faces is what reunions are for, after all. The fact that it has a theme, that it is masquerade of all things, really just cements Geoff’s resolve to drag his crew halfway across the country into one of the strangest nights of their lives.

Everyone knows the option to bring a guest to these events is, in reality, the offer to bring a romantic partner, singular, but it isn’t technically stated. There are no rules barring Geoff from RSVP-ing for 7, so that’s exactly what he does. Sure he receives a few increasingly less polite emails suggesting he’d been mistaken but he doesn’t even bother opening them, doesn’t try to clarify that he is bringing his friends, his family, not his entire harem. Let them talk; they’d do it anyway. Plus, it’s not like the Fake’s aren’t all entirely too pleased with the suggestion, cackling hyenas who spend the next few weeks laying it on thick, batting their eyes and blowing Geoff kisses, picking out increasingly absurd meet-cute stories to tell his scandalised classmates. Between creating new identities and playing dress up in masks and suits they couldn’t be happier.

Masks or not they catch every eye in the room when they make their entrance and why wouldn’t they; Geoff and his unusual request must have been the talk of the rumour mill and identity hidden or not clearly this must be Geoff, it’s not like anyone else brought along 6 dates. As stage whispers hit a dull roar it’s obvious no one was prepared for what they were seeing, perhaps imagined instead stained tank tops and a string of strung-out baby mama’s, not expensively tailored suits and an attractively refined entourage. Paying the noise no heed Geoff swans into the room with Jack looking elegant on one arm, Gavin at his most Ken-doll glamorous tucked under the other, flanked on either side by Ryan, Michael, Jeremy and Ray, all dressed to impress.

Shock and jealousy aren’t good looks on anyone, let alone rich brats turned elitist yuppies, so Geoff’s classmates behave just as poorly as he’d anticipated, years and newfound maturity doing nothing to stop the tittering laughter, the sneers and judgmental looks, fake pleasantry and condescending questions. But then, his crew didn’t exactly play nice with them either.

Ray and Jeremy immediately beeline to the food table and bar, respectively, and each set themselves up and settle in for the night; loud, obnoxious and tactlessly talking about everyone around them. When asked about themselves or their relationship to Geoff they’re both frustratingly vague, Jeremy chattering away without saying much at all and Ray simply staring people down until they can’t bear the tension.

Michael and Ryan set off together to explore the room but quickly separate to accommodate their vastly different methods of surveillance. Ryan skulks into the background, ducking numerous attempts to catch his interest in favour of fading into unlit corners and empty nooks, frightening the life out of anyone trying to slip away for some private time. Michael, on the other hand, seems determined to be the life of the party, cheerfully making conversation only to laugh in the face of every so-called achievement, ruffling feathers and causing major offence wherever he goes.

Gavin slinks off like a man on a mission and doesn’t come back for over an hour, offering no explanation for the absence beyond a dangerously self-satisfied smirk. His work becomes obvious soon enough anyway, once the yelling starts; Geoff’s two main high-school tormentors, mentioned only in passing stories over the years, simultaneously having huge, public, relationship-ending blow ups with each of their significant others. What are the odds? Across the hall Gavin laughs, all tinkling glass and sparkling charm, smoothly working the room like Michael’s mirror opposite.

Jack stays at Geoff’s side all night, hackles raised into something abnormally cold and unimpressed any time someone comes up to speak to them, protective instincts in full force no matter how often Geoff claims to be unaffected. He fills her in on all the worst gossip about those who approach, and as the night progresses and general unease begins to spread Jack mellows, sinking back into something sweet and mocking, somehow even more unsettling playing docile arm-candy than she was rabid guard dog.

Throughout the night the Fake AH Crew remain a key topic of every casual conversation; they might have been regardless, even this far from Los Santos no one can get enough of their scandals, but with the huge heist pulled just last week there was no way to avoid it, everyone has their two cents, their praise and condemnation. It’s too funny, the whole crew killing themselves trying not to break character, to laugh or correct or manipulate the conversation but all their self-control is well rewarded in the end.

Half the room removed their masks less than an hour into the night; too difficult to eat and talk and drink in, too vain to keep their hard earned looks covered, so it’s not at all strange when the Fake’s start to follow suit. Jeremy and Ray start it, the newest member and the one caught on camera the least often, casually dropping their masks mid-conversation. They each get a confused squint or two, a double glance, a few individuals trying to place them, remember how they’d met before, why they were so familiar.

Next came Gavin and Michael, having goaded each other out onto the dance-floor they were playing as much as they were moving to the music, laughing and grappling and generally making a bit of a scene. They snatch off each other’s masks as they play and the looks double, because alone they’re each distinctive but together, together, people have seen those faces together, somewhere they’ve seen them and so often together..

Last is Jack and Geoff, more graceful than their counterparts and moving with far more purpose they reveal their faces in the centre of the room and, like a party trick, they instantly catch the whole room’s attention. Out of context, in ones and twos where they don’t belong, the members of the FAHC could be mistaken but no one in the country would fail to recognise Ramsey and Patillo, the kingpin and his right hand, rulers of the most well-known gang in the US. And here they stand, casually mingling at a high school reunion.

In the calm before the storm the crew gravitates back towards one another, can almost see the cogs turning around them, the lightbulbs flickering on in a slow ripple spreading out across the room, disbelief and the first hint of horror swirling together as people start unconsciously reaching for their phones. As Ryan slips back out and wanders over, the last still masked, always masked, the chatter seems to crescendo then crash into something still and almost silent as a room full of entitled trust-fund babies recognise their own terror.

Finally uncovered and flanked by his family Geoff’s grin creeps across his face, slow and violent and more confirmation than anyone needed as he lets the oppressive tension sit for a long moment, arms spreading out to his sides like a magician revealing a clever trick before he breaks the silence; Surprise motherfuckers.

Guns are pulled from jackets and from there it’s all running and screaming, no honour or courage, just a stampede for the exits to the sound of cackling laughter and the occasional aimless pot-shot. The Fake’s aren’t looking for lives, not worth the hassle really, and this job certainly has no monetary reward beyond the wallets Geoff’s filthy little thieves have no doubt absconded with, but the fear in the air is delightful and even the sound of incoming sirens can’t ruin the mood. If anything it only hypes them up further, all savage grins and ramping excitement as they make for doors, reloading their weapons and pumping themselves up for a whole new police force to terrorise, Geoff’s magnificent little miscreants.

On the way out they pass a wall of yearbook photos, blown up large and captioned with names and all the old superlative awards. Ryan stumbles to a halt and snorts, snatching one off the wall and tucking it into his jacket to take back to the penthouse, though not before flashing the Lads a glance at that all too recognisable face, sending them into peals of screeching laughter as they pour out into the night. Geoffrey Fink; Least likely to succeed. 

Birthday Blues // Jeff Atkins

A/N: Honestly, I wrote this at 1am. 

Named after: The fact that I mentioned readers birthday so much. That and I was listening to the blues.


It was a Saturday. It was the day of the championship game for baseball. But most importantly, it was your birthday.


You had let this small fact take a back seat in weeks leading up to the game, you didn’t want to stress Jeff out. Your boyfriend was already spending more time with Clay to get tutoring for two more classes just to make sure he’d play. He’d exercise in the early morning before school, go to baseball practice after, study and do homework with the smaller boy, and then watch his previous games until it was time to repeat.

It had become a routine, and Jeff normally got like this a few days before his games. You’d grown accustomed to it, you would plan to walk to school or ride with your next door neighbor Alex Standall, pack a few extra protein bars and Gatorade to leave in his locker, as well as massage him during his film.

He was…distant but it was okay because he always felt so guilty after, he’d pamper you for the next week.

However, what your boyfriend failed to let you know, was that for the championship, this routine of his was starting two weeks before you expected it. So when you found yourself arriving at school by 3rd period, after waiting 20 minutes for your boyfriend to show up you were more than angry.

But you pushed it aside, silently forgiving your baseball player. You knew Jeff loved the sport he played. For the most part, it was the only thing he felt he was incredible at. So you slowly adjusted to this behavior for the week, eating lunch by yourself because Jeff didn’t initially tell you he was going to the athletic trainer during your lunch period. Nodding as he asked you if you could find another ride home because practice was running late. Walking when you realized all your friends had already left.

It was fine, you knew it wasn’t intentional or malicious, he just really wanted the game to go well. Scouts would be looking at him. More importantly, you knew that once these weeks finished you’d have him all to yourself, starting on your birthday.

You walked through the bleachers wearing Jeff’s home jersey, 30 minutes before the game started. You saved seats for his parents who had already wished you a happy birthday, your parents who were there to support your boyfriend, and your friends who had helped you survive these past two weeks.

You made three posters all with different puns and cheesy jokes that you were sure Jeff would love,
 ’#1 on the field AND in my heart’
 'No that is not Derek Jeter, it’s Jeff Atkins’

And your personal favorite,
  ‘Atkins, Homerun counter:__’

You brought a sharpie with you to the game and by the end of it, you had edited that poster at least four times. You screamed so loud during the game you barely had any voice left when the team won.

The student section, along with yourself rushed the field and you watched as your boyfriend and his teammates poured water all over their coach. You smiled, more proud of Jeff than ever. Your two weeks of relationship hell were over and you were going to spend the rest of this Saturday night celebrating him and your birthday.

When you finally got the opportunity to get to Jeff, waiting for his parents and your parents to go first so they could leave, you hugged him as tightly as you could you pecked his lips before asking, “Now what champ?”

He smiled at the abbreviation. He let go holding out a finger signaling he’d get back to you. He left, jogging over to his teammates and a few reporters. You waited. Waited as the captains talked to the reporters who covered the game, waited as he greeted the college scout with a firm handshake, waited as the team filed out.

Jeff was the first one on that field and the last one to leave the dugout. He had all of his stuff in his baseball bag, slung on one shoulder while he wrapped the other arm around your waist.

“We’re going to Bryce’s!” He said smiling as you reached his car.

“W-what?” You asked trying to keep it together.

“Bryce, you know Bryce, he’s throwing a party for the win! You asked, ‘now what’ so that’s what!” He replied placing his stuff in his trunk.

You couldn’t lie, it fucking hurt. He forgot. He forgot your birthday of all days. You understand, it was the championship but the last thing you wanted to do was get drunk with a bunch of rowdy jocks. You and Jeff did that almost every weekend. Before you could say anything, Jeff opened the door for you, kissing your cheek.

“Jeff…” you started your voice nearly breaking. But when he turned to you, with the world in his eyes, ecstatic he had just won, you couldn’t bring yourself to ruin it. So you swallowed the lump in your throat and blinked back your tears as you forced a smile on your face.

“Could you please take me home? I’m not feeling too well.” You said, barely managing to make it through your request.

He nods, rushing back over to the driver’s seat. He grabs your hand, rubbing circles on your skin all the way to your house. His grip tightens as he pulls into your driveway and finally looks over at you.

You avoid his gaze and move to get out.

“So no party?” He asks you.

“No thanks, but go and have fun okay? I’ll see you tomorrow!”

He furrows his eyebrows placing another kiss on your hand before letting you go.

“Thanks, baby girl, I’ll see you tomorrow!”

And with that, he drives off. Once he’s out of sight you finally let the tears stream down your face like they had wanted to for the past two weeks.

You decided not to call anyone to make other plans, you would much rather sulk in your own pity. You had a mix of texts come in through the night that you ignored. Most of them from friends wishing you a happy birthday, and a few from a very drunk Jeff who, for the life of him, couldn’t manage to spell out ‘I love you’. That night you cried yourself to sleep, upset and alone trying to rationalize your boyfriend’s actions.


You woke up early the next morning, making yourself breakfast and planning out your day to make up for the previous. You could have fun by yourself. You ignored whatever Jeff texted you when you got ready, putting on some of your favorite clothes instead. Sorting through looking for your sweatshirt, you heard a knock on your door.

You threw on a t-shirt instead, yelling out 'come in’, as you started to put your hair into a bun.

“Hey, you feeling better? I have the nastiest hangover, so it’s fine if you’re not, we’ll be miserable together” Jeff started.

And you shook your head slightly at first, then you gradually became angrier. You couldn’t care less if Jeff had a hangover. Throughout his whole drunk escapade, it didn’t even occur to him that you were sitting at home, by yourself, on your birthday. He had treated you like shit for two weeks, he didn’t just get to waltz back into your life as though it never happened.

“Your parents let me in on their way out. You weren’t answering my texts so I just thought-” he stopped himself as he watched your expression change.

“What’s wrong?” He asked gently.

“What’s wrong Jeff? What’s wrong? Are you fucking kidding me?” You questioned, raising your voice slightly.

You didn’t plan on getting angry so fast, he just was so oblivious to everything it pissed you off, royally.

Jeff was taken aback. His mouth dropped slightly as he tried to figure out where he went wrong.

“FIRST. You didn’t give me a ride to school with no notice! I had to fucking walk! I was late to class and now I have detention next weekend so thanks!” You stood, now pacing around your room as Jeff took a seat on your bed.

“Baby-” he tried to interrupt.

“I’m not done” You interjected.

You were so upset you missed the completely shocked expression on Jeff’s face. Everything he did wrong in the past two weeks was flooding in all at once.

“Then! You made me eat by myself at lunch when you didn’t tell me you weren’t going to be there!”

“Baby girl-”

“Don’t you dare 'baby girl’ me! Then! You made me walk home! …IT’S AN HOUR WALK JEFF!”

He stood to meet you in all your anger, approaching you slowly.

“You basically ignored me, FOR TWO WEEKS! For fuck sake, Clay saw you more than I did!”

You couldn’t help it. Everything was spiraling in your head and pouring out of your mouth. When Jeff reached you, his hands that normally felt so comforting betrayed him. You wanted nothing more than to scream and yell until he left until he felt the way that you did.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, okay? Please calm down-” he said in the most soothing voice he could figure.

Jeff was scared, to say the least. He had never seen you this angry before.

“CALM. DOWN? YOU’RE NOT SERIOUS!” You screamed back at him pushing against his chest to create some distance between the two of you.

As your voice grew louder, the tears came rolling in again. When they fell down your cheeks Jeff had to fight the urge to wipe them. He felt guilty, he was the sole reason you were so worked up.

“THEN TO TOP IT ALL OFF JEFFREY? YOU FORGOT MY BIRTHDAY!”

Jeff could have sworn he felt his heart stop. He knew he had been forgetting something, he just didn’t know it was you. He couldn’t even stutter out a response, he just stood there taking you in.

“I made three fucking posters for you! And I was there for you! Through all this BULLSHIT! I waited after the game! When you did all your interviews, and you met with all the scouts, and you were fucking around with the boys! I let you do whatever the fuck you needed to! And you left me. On my birthday. FOR A FUCKING PARTY!”

You were sobbing at this point and your voice cracked as you screamed at him.

Jeff had tears at the brims of his eyes as well, he had no idea how much he hurt you in the past two weeks.

“A fucking party Jeff…god, you’re such an asshole.” You mumbled, wiping your tears frantically, hoping that they would stop flowing.

Jeff blinked back the tears his eyes before he approached you again. He stood this time, at least two feet away to give you your space. It was the distance that hurt him the most, normally he couldn’t take his hands off of you. Now, he had to watch his first love cry, because of him, and she was too upset to even let him wipe away her tears.

“I’m sorry” he began.

And before you could interrupt him he continued.

“I- I’m so sorry.” He tripped over his own apology as a few tears fell from his eyes. He wiped them quickly, he knew he wasn’t in the position to get emotional when he was the one who hurt you.

“I was such a dick…and I- I fucked up big time…I don’t even fucking deserve you…” he struggled to find the right words that would make this all go away, but unlike your usual insignificant fights, he knew there wasn’t any combination of words that would fix it.

“Lemme make it up to you” he pleaded.

You crossed your arms over each other. Furious and devastated all at once. You wanted him to stay with you for the rest of the day but you also wanted him to get the hell out of your room.

Jeff slowly closed the gap between you two, grabbing at your waist.

“Please. Y/N. Let me fix it.”

He stared at you, searching your eyes waiting for your answer.

“I’ll beg if I have to” he offered up with a sad smile.

You frowned avoiding his eyes, you and Jeff both knew his puppy dog eyes could get you to do anything.

And so Jeff got onto his knees, his hands still at your waist and you finally looked at him.

“Jeff, get up” you muttered.

“Just give me a chance to fix it.” He countered.

You nodded quickly if only to get him off the ground, and he smiled standing to his feet again. He embraced you in what felt like the tightest hug ever.

“I’m really sorry” he mumbled into your hair.

And when he pulled away he was leaving your room.

“Cancel all your plans today, I’ll be back in an hour, I promise this is going to be the best day of your life!” He rambled as he grabbed his keys from your bed.

“Jeff, I don’t want you to le-” you whined. This was the first time he was paying attention to you in a while.

“One hour. If I’m not back……dump me!” He called out as he left your room door.

You sat on your bed, hearing the rumble of his engine begin, and when the sound of his car left your ears you exhaled and leaned back onto your bed. Hopeful for what was in store.


Part 2