just look at them how happy they were

my life got 100% better when I started dressing how I wanted to dress and not how I thought I should dress. I stopped caring if stripes were unflattering, I just wore them. I started wearing bold prints because they made me happy. I ordered huge shirts, pink trainers, heart shaped sunglasses. I started to let myself look on the outside how I felt on the inside, and let me tell you, I have never felt freer in my entire life 

This post was triggered by something that @roachpatrol​ said over here about the expectation for girls to be sweet and clean and harmless:

Holy shit, if I was eight years younger and wandering into fandom for the first time, I can guarantee that the culture right now would’ve fucked me up and ground me down and taken away all my healthy outlets.

Picture: you are a girl at the tender young age of mumbledyteen. Up until this point you have been taught that all dark thoughts are literally hand-delivered into your head by the devil, and that the only correct method of dealing with negativity is to ignore them and pray harder. Concentrate on what is good and righteous and pure to the exclusion of all else, this is how you be a good person.

You are also a fully-functioning human being, one who can feel stressed or lonely or angry or any number of bad things. Mostly, with emotions that are still working themselves out, you feel this rumbling, white-hot white noise under everything, all the time. Sometimes it rolls in like a thunderstorm and everything else gets drowned out, and sometimes it’s only quietly muttering in the distance. Either way it’s always there, and the sound shreds uncomfortably at the inside of your brain.

When you were younger, before you were in charge of your own media consumption, your brain would shred up a myriad of saccharine stories to try and match the noise of the shredder in your head. Bad things happening, people getting hurt, characters trapped in unhealthy relationships of all kinds.

Fanfiction, the product of a hundred thousand other mumbledyteens whose brains are all screaming the same way, makes something in your brain go ping

Unfortunately, if the planet had ever been united on any single message, it was probably that no matter how you feel: 1) your feelings weren’t unique 2) they didn’t matter 3) they didn’t matter because they weren’t unique, they were shared among millions of hysterical, worthless teenaged girls just like you.

Fandom was confirmation of the first, but (with some hiccups along the way) outright rejection of the last two. Fuck you, our feelings do matter, and this is a story just for us.

A disclaimer: these aren’t good stories, otherwise they wouldn’t have to be defended. Their flavor of topic is not within societally acceptable bounds. Fictional characters have sex and get tortured and raped and abused, but their screaming harmonizes with the pitch of the shredder when it’s burrowing deepest.


As a teenager I never thought that my feelings were important enough to deal with, but these stories let me look at them sideways. Audience catharsis is the whole point of tragedy, after all.

And hell, these days I’m a happy, healthy adult who barely even has the urge to go looking for whump fic when I’ve had a bad week. I’m not going to forget just how much bad stuff that fic helped me air out, though, not ever. (Not to mention that thanks to all of those abuse!fics, I can recognize an unhealthy relationship at 500 paces, even if the fictional abuse was depicted as something loving and romantic. Abusers in real life don’t go around with helpful warning tags on their sleeves anyway.)

But holy shit, can you imagine if I’d found fandom as it is today.

Yes, your church is right, your family is right. Horrible things in stories are only there because they were written by horrible people, and they’re only popular because horrible people read them. The very concepts they address corrupt everything they touch.

That shredder in your head, the one that takes innocent cartoons but then shits out sadness and mayhem? That’s disgusting, you’re disgusting. How dare you think about minors having underaged sex, you minor? How dare you consider another person getting hurt? Your feelings don’t matter, they aren’t unique, they’re shared with all kinds of worthless shitbags just like you.

Every ounce of what you read and write and enjoy is going to be weighed for sin and tested for purity. You know, just like the rest of your life, except this time there’s no deity who’s handing out second chances.

Maybe that’s what bothers me most about all of this. It’s the same petty fandom bullshit as always, but “you’re wrong for liking a ship because IT WILL NEVER BE CANON” is a hell of a lot easier to laugh off when you’re young than “you’re wrong for liking a ship because YOU’RE AN ABUSIVE PEDOPHILE AND IF SOMETHING BAD HAPPENS IT’S YOUR FAULT FOR PERPETUATING IT.”

My fault, my bad thoughts, no outlet for any of them. The message to repress all the bad things so I can look like a good person, but my brain is so full of unprocessed shit that it’s solidified. Nobody actually saved any real children, but my brain sure is getting a second dose of fucked-up.

Are the people getting attacked going to be okay, will they be able to go and address their braingremlins somewhere else? I’d also ask if the people doing the attacking are okay, with all of the denial and repression they must deal with, but it seems like they’ve got venting pretty well handled by taking it out on strangers. 

Hey, c’mon, calm down friends. I bet I’ve read a story that’s got a character screaming at just the same pitch you are.

It helps to read one of those and harmonize your voices, I promise.

“make the princess speak and you will have the crown of kings.”

my knees hurt, as usual, from scrubbing. technically i’m too high of Maid Station to help out with these things, but i like seeing what happens when you clean. the development of things. how a lot of effort can make something. i like learning and trying and working hard to get towards something.

and i’ve seen them, from the back of pillars, from behind cracked doors, from beside her (on the best days) the way they talk to her. oh beautiful won’t you just look at me. oh darling. if you speak i’ll be your prince. if you speak i’ll be your king. 

the princess, i know, finds the lines of suitors boring. it’s in the way her hands are always moving. she hides yawns, leaves early, we make her apologies. once, a man comes and tries to startle her into screaming. she rolls her eyes and looks directly at me. i have to hide my smile behind my sleeve. he is taken away while still screaming.

by accident, i find her once, crying. when we imagine princesses, they always cry daintily. hers is hoarse, angry, and something in it breaks me. in my station i should apologize and bow and leave. instead i am frozen, watching her shoulders heaving.

she looks up and spots me, her cheeks ruddy. i know i should go but instead i make a big show. i act as one of her princes. i make grand gestures and speak in deep voices. i frantically offer her handkerchiefs and trip over my own two feet. a smile crawls up over her, slowly. i dab my sweat away and offer her the used rag. i feign a fluster, turn a terrible cartwheel, make shadow puppets. the sound of her laugh, raw and rusty, sends shivers through me.

for a while, i do not see her after this. but then i am called to her chambers. she is crying again. i offer silly gifts, pebbles and dusting rags and a candlestick from her own kitchen, pretend to steal it, use it as a hat, rock it as a babe. she laughs more easily this time, gladly, and when she laughs i am taken by more important maids, thereby officially Excused.

it goes like this for months. the winter comes. i rarely see her. i spend my week thinking about ways to please her. i knick interesting cookies, show her shiny buttons, learn to cartwheel in a full skirt, and then promptly how to make it look foolish again. i learn how to juggle hot bread and dance as a man would, i learn how to balance on a ball and how to fall down without hurting myself, how to fake a fight with my own body, which colors she likes and which don’t please her.

i show up on a cold eve with a knotted line of scarves hidden down my sleeve, worried and breathless, wondering why she’s been crying. the door opens and she is sitting there, happy. at first i’m confused, but she waves me in. next to her is her small dessert, in two containers. i’m not sure how to respond, so i fake a fall to hear her laugh, and then sit at her feet. she gives me ice cream - so rare a treat. i know what went into making it - the hours of shaking. it’s smooth and tasty. i don’t feign my reaction, but she laughs anyway, kindly. 

it goes like this. i see her more frequently. she likes giving me new things, watching me discover i hate kiwi and love oranges and would die if it made her laugh breathlessly. i’ve made her keel over with cackling and she’s put a fire in me. sometimes we just sit there, quietly, enjoying each other’s company. 

it’s in her hands, always moving. little things i thought were just her, fidgeting. here’s how she says she’s thirsty, this is what her hands do when she needs a second to think, here’s how she shows she’s happy. this is how i learn to speak back to her. around her i spend much of my time smiling. i feel every visit is a gift. a new part to unravel. i find out she doesn’t respond to spoken things, that she needs to be looking in order to know you were speaking. sometimes she has me talk and she holds her hands to the base of my throat, her eyes wide and wondering. sometimes she just looks at me and i forget that i’m her jester in chief. i get caught up in her eyes, in how expressive they are when she’s happy, in how when she’s sad i feel like i’m drowning.

i never see the king or queen, but i know when she’s had a visit with them, because she never comes back happy. two winters i have known her, two winters and now we dine frequently. i am often called to stand beside her, to whisper translations of her desires into the ears of someone more important than i, someone who gets to be the voice of royalty. i can’t decide if i’m her friend or her plaything, but i don’t know i care much of the distinction. every moment i’m near her is a moment free of friction. i take stock of suitors and curtsy to them in daylight only to mock them in the candle’s eye later.

she asks me one night to stay. it has been a bad day. it’s completely not okay. i cannot say no but i cannot, by my station, stay. but she begs with her eyes and her hands and i know i’ll take the punishment. 

we lie beside each other. i make sure to turn to her when i speak. in the dark she can’t see me, so i move my hands in the way i’m learning. she asks if i am ever lonely. i cannot tell her that i am always lonely without her beside me, so instead i say i think all people are very lonely and just are pretending. she laughs a little at that and says she thinks her parents are the two most lonely people that ever met. her mother was like her; broke a fairy curse and talked, just once, although nobody knows what she said. well, excepting her father, who was the only one around, and who won her hand in marriage.

from her mother she learned the art of hands, of speaking without words - from her father she learned that who she was included a curse. that she just wanted someone who would make her open like a rose - someone who could fix her. how she stared out into the royal garden and wished on flowers to be what her kingdom needs.

she fell asleep pressed against me. i couldn’t breathe. i was still awake in the morning. 

the punishment never came. we spent nights like this. the handmaidens had grown to know me. whenever their princess was stubborn, i worked magic and made her lovely.

it was a terrible thing. i did too good a job, i think. the princess glowed too much or shone too brightly - or at least, i saw it that way, so who knows what the truth is. every day it felt like we were being rushed with princes. 

her father’s temper at hosting failed. it was the day before her twenty-first birthday and first time i’d ever seen him. he stormed in at the end of the session. “just speak!” he said, “it’s not that hard! do for others what your mother did!” 

“tomorrow is your last day of this,” he warned her, “either you pick a prince or i pick for you. i’m done with it.”

he stormed off. she was left shellshocked and trembling. that night she didn’t ask me to come, but i waited outside, just in case she changed her mind. i understood why she needed space. either she’d speak and be married tomorrow or she’d be married shortly. i heard her crying and it took everything in my power not to rush in and hold her, cradle her gently. but i cannot come into a room of a royal person without being invited. i stayed there, tears in my own eyes, thinking of treason.

the next day was a huge festival. what had been a birthday celebration was turned into a day about princes. i watched her shake her head. i tried to cheer her up. i tried everything. i frequently came inches from causing public humiliation, toed the line of mocking and failing to acknowledge my station. she wouldn’t smile. not once. not even for anything.

the day was long. the bonfire wore down. i watched her crumple into herself. i was out of ideas. i knelt at her feet. her eyes barely looked at me. just wait, i said to her with my hands, i’ll be right back. i took off running.

the price of stealing is losing my hands. these things that i spoke to her with. these things that mattered so much to me, that helped with my comedy and cleaning. 

i didn’t think of them. i bloodied my fingers when i ripped the royal roses from their stems. and then i ran, as fast as i could, back to her feet. i picked them to show you, i said, as she gasped, looking at my treason, they’re beautiful and nobody told them to open to reveal their secrets to the bees. they are unbroken. as you are. as you always will be. 

she fell off her throne and for a second i was beyond speaking, worried something had happened, or she’d fainted, or i’d said the wrong thing. but then she was on her knees, her arms around me, and i heard it. i heard the soft croak of her speaking. just one word, and it sent shivers down me. my name, in her voice, awkward and unwieldy, but full of love and passion, burning fire through me.

i felt a hand on my shoulder. i was pulled away from her. they already had me in handcuffs while i struggled to get back to her, to tell her i loved her, to beg her to run off with me or maybe just hold me around her, maybe just have her for a moment, because i couldn’t live without her for a moment longer.

they put me in the cells. i rotted in there, for a while or for no time at all, i’m not sure. the thorns scarred my palms. i watched the scabs build up and flake off. every time someone came down, i flinched, wondering if i would be the next to be taken and chopped into bits.

but one day the light was different. not the smoky torch of the jailer, instead a bright light in a lantern. at first when i saw her, my breath caught in my throat, mistaking her for my princess.

but she was my queen. at first we stood in silence. and slowly, i moved my hands to speak. is she married? is what came out, even though i should be more worried about me myself and me.

she is not. she bit her father on the arm when he tried to make her. then she fought him. and then ran away. it took us a bit to find her, i’m afraid. she threatened her own life and the life of everyone in this place. the queen was smiling. i was told there was a young woman who could make the princess speak, whom she would die to save, who brought roses to her feet. someone in a cell, rotting. are you her?

the memory of her voice rang through me. i’m she.

yes, her hands said, for even now, aren’t you speaking to the silent Queen?

she opened the door. come, she said, let’s get you cleaned up for the ceremony.

the crown of kings. when she wraps her arms around my neck and laughs next to me, i am royalty. when she smiles or makes a joke or asks to see my cartwheel again, i’m lost in her. i kiss her whenever i can, which is often. we have roses in a vase at the base of our bed, and for all of the kingdom, i’d give my hands if it would keep her laughing.

the next time she spoke was just once, at our wedding, where she said the two words i do to bind us for eternity. she had learned from me, from holding her hands over my voicebox, the way i learned from her how to use hands to speak. sometimes at night she says my name, just because she likes what it does to me.

i’m more blessed than a king. every day i spend with her is a day i spend happily. 

— ask and you shall receive | pt 2 (m)

pairing— jung hoseok x reader, sugar daddy! hoseok
genre/warnings— smut, oral, dirty talk, (cute) dom! hoseok
words— 15,413

summary— your sugar daddy says you don’t have to sleep with him if you don’t want to…trouble is, you do want to. You’re just nervous and a little inexperienced, but he catches on quick and begins to teach you the true pleasures of sex, and boy, are they good…

 » pt 1 :: pt 2 :: pt 3 :: pt 4  ✓

Keep reading

AU where Until Dawn is an award winning movie and all the characters are actors in it. Just imagine.

  • Josh and Chris aren’t allowed to do interviews alone together for reasons that no one is allowed to say
  • Sam constantly brings the cast and crew coffee and hot chocolate every time they shoot in the snow
  • Bloopers of Mike constantly falling on his face as he’s doing his “heroic” run to save Jessica
  • Jess in the background laughing at him every time he falls on his face
  • “Fuck nuggets”, “Scared the blue out of my jeans”, “Jesus hot sauce Christmas cake”, and everyone other creative curse was completely improvised by Mike
  • Emily accidentally hitting Ashley while filming the slap-scene and Emily freaking out and apologizing
  • Theres a tabloid rumor that Mike and Matt hate each other and got into a fist fight on set, when really they just had a heated argument over who gets the last donut (Josh stole it while they fought)
  • Josh and Jess constantly forgetting their lines
  • Ashley going out of her way to meet fans and sign pictures for them
  • Mike taking every sexist question that Jess gets during interviews
  • Chris doing the same for Ashley and Josh doing the same for Sam
  • Matt not needing to do that, because Emily can handle the situation on her own
  • Matt visiting sick fans in the hospital
  • Hannah and Beth being famous twin actors, and the marketing purposefully misdirected it so it looked like Beth and Hannah were the leads to make their “deaths” more shocking
  • Josh and Hannah staying in their “villain” makeup (ie the psycho mask and wendigo makeup) and hiding in people’s trailers to scare them
  • Matt and Jess, during their first interview together, ended it with Jess beatboxing and Matt freestyle rapping. It becomes the most liked video on youtube
  • Emily being the queen of dubsmash, and it spreading to the whole cast constantly doing them inbetween shots
  • The guys having paintball games in between scenes and Ashley and Sam joining in only to destroy them
  • There’s several bloopers of Josh and Chris leaning forward about to kiss only to start laughing
  • “what were all thinking it” is Josh’s reasoning for ruining so many shots
  • Interviewer: “Who was your favorite member to shoot with?” Beth: “My sister of course. She’s my best friend and I wouldn’t want to do this without her”. Hannah: “Awww… mine was Mike”
  • Interviewer: “What was your favorite scene to shoot?”. Ashley“The Saw scene since it was so intense and and special effects were so amazing that it looked so real”. Chris“When i got to kiss Ashley” *Smirks*
  • Sam confirming the fan theory that her character is gay
  • Interviewer“Which fate would you want, death or wendigo?” Josh“how about a happy ending for my character instead”
unconventional things you can do to feel good:
  • listen to any of these songs through a pair of earbuds, turn the volume up, and get down bb. shake ya booty. throw your hands up. get your groove on in the mirror and give no fucks for 3 whole minutes [x] [x] [x] [x]
  • wear a matching set of lingerie or fun, festive boxers (you know the superhero boxers with the capes attatched? those ones) 

  • shave. your legs, your face, your armpits, shave it all off 

  • curl your lashes. you don’t even have to put on mascara. sometimes it’s the little things you learn to appreciate about yourselves 

  • pay for the customer behind you. it’s just something nice you can do while getting coffee. the customer behind you will appreciate it a lot and making others happy tends to make you feel happy too

  • make your bed- but not in the cleaning way. got a super nice matching pillowcase/sheet set? go put that shit on and make your bed feel comfy as possible. throw on all your stuffed animals and lay in one big cuddle puddle. bonus points for taking all the pillows in the house

  • power poses dude. do them! stand with your hands on your hips and chin up high! or if you’re sitting down, spread your legs out wide. make yourself look big. this one usually helps me feel more confident 

  • invite friends over for dinner. make the dinner together. even if you fuck up and it turns out burnt to a crisp and totally inedible, it’s gonna be super fun to make! (you can buy a cheap frozen pizza as a backup ahead of time)

  • change your hair up. cut it. dye it. curl it. crimp it. gel it. shave it if you’re daring enough! temporary dyes are always fun to play with if your hair is light enough. if not, find all the hair clips and pins in the house and stick them on ya! bonus points for going out to the McDonald’s drive thru with friends looking like that. It’ll be a fun time for you and your cashier

  • send your followers nice anons and then look back to see how happy they were to get it! this one is always super nice for everyone 

  • for those of you with longer nails: sharpen them. file them so that they look like cat claws and start ripping paper or drag them along your skin. it feels super weird but in a nice, ticklish way

  • teach yourself how to wink. smooch the mirror after putting on a bright shade of lipstick. twerk it. just have fun and be silly

  • get an eyeshadow palette (something cheaper) and make your brows look THICC. I mean HUGE and DARK. wiggle them in the mirror and take some funny selfies or snaps. send them to your crush and see what they say 

  • go to a thrift store with $10 and see what neat thing you can find! you can treat yourself with a brand new curling iron, clothes, a new blender, or even a fucking COUCH for just $10 if you go to your local goodwill. just go off and venture! you never know what cool items you’ll find and you won’t feel bad about getting it when it costs little to nothing

  • go to a plant nursery and pick up a few nice house plants. I bought 3 nice house plants for just 9 bucks when I was sad one day and now I have a bunch of fresh herbs that make my room smell awesome 
Safe Places.

Based on an ask I received!
I apologize, the story had to be edited so I rewrote the whole thing here!

Original idea by: @lightderin

Lance looked around at the accusing glares of his teammates, all different intensities. He smiled nervously, “Oops.”

They had been mapping out locations in the observatory of safe planets to land, or easy places to wormhole, in the case of an attack that needed quick escape.

The team had been at it for hours, and had over 120 spots pinpointed over multiple galaxies.

Lance, who had found the entire ordeal quite boring, had strolled away to check out the little holograms floating around.

He couldn’t help that it was hard for him to pay attention, ADHD did that to a person. Focusing just wasn’t his gig.

The blue paladin had started across the other side of the room, hands in his pockets and he just looked.

Until he thought he found Earth.

He should know what it looked like, he stared at its little hologram nearly every night.

Lance missed home.
He missed the people back there.

Without much thought, Lance reached forward to zoom in, a happy little smile on his lips.

Home.

Look at it, just right there—

“Aw, what the heck?!” A chorus of shouts came from behind and Lance jumped.

He turned to see the team staring at him, looking annoyed and tired. “Hm?”

Pidge motioned frantically to the hologram around them, “Lance, we lost our spot! We lost our points!”

Lance blinked, “…how?”

Keith groaned, “Idiot, because you were screwing around with the screen!”

Lance frowned, looking back at Earth, and saw how zoomed in it was and how the constellations and stars around him had changed too.

Oh, he didn’t think that one through.
Lance looked back at them and smiled nervously, “Oops?”

He was answered with grumbles, and a yawn from Hunk. They were tired and now were too frustrated to get significantly angry.

“Let’s go to bed, we can start again in the morning.” Shiro said, rubbing his forehead. “You too Lance.”

Lance rubbed his neck, looking at the ground as the team and the Altean duo walked past him.

He grunted when Keith bumped into him, “Watch where you’re going, Lance.” The red paladin spat.

Lance frowned.
Keith was the one who bumped into him!

“Oh yeah, mull—”
He was alone in the observatory.

He took a shaky breath, watching the doors close behind his friends, and sulked.

Great.
He had annoyed them all, again.

Why could he just keep his hands to himself? Look don’t touch, his mama had always said.

Lance sighed, arms coming up to pull up his hood and put it over his head. A safe place, where he could only see forward, and no one could see him.

Hoods were nice.
When you can only look back at your mistakes, they allow you to dream ahead and block out any side distractions.

It was a new world, your own world, and provided the blue paladin with a sense of security.

Safe.

He sat down, back in front of Earth, letting it float nearer to him and he watched it carefully.

The blue light illuminating the white space his head was tucked into, and it was just those two.

Lance and Earth.
She was such a pretty lady.

His sadness escaped through a sigh, and he allowed himself to be calm.

Tonight, he would fix it.
Lance would stay up all night and go through the map an replot every point.

And as morning came, the hood would come off, and Lance would feel a little better.

Everything would be okay.

It had to be, otherwise what would have been the point of staying up all night to do all of this for his team?

He skipped breakfast, as that time came the following morning. Not that he was incredibly hungry anyway.

“203…204, wait, no…” Lance put down another point, rubbing his eyes and swaying in his spot.

Lance had marked down every point they had previously plotted, and finding he hadn’t been able to sleep, continued on.

The blue paladin barely noticed as a door opened behind him, and the team entered.

“Wh— Lance? We thought you were still sleeping, you weren’t at breakfast.” Princess Allura said with a hint of surprise in her tone.

Lance chuckled, “Nah, thought I would finish up some of our plotting.”

Team Voltron and the Alteans were staring in awe at the color coordinated dots that glowed amongst the light blue holographic model.

“What is this?” Shiro asked.

Lance looked over, rubbing an eye.
“I felt horrible last night, messing up the work you guys did. So I stayed up and fixed it. I even took the time to color coordinate them by condition, size, and whether or not they are open at certain times.”

Each had their jaw dropped, staring at their blue paladin. He had done all of that?

“Did you sleep at all?” Hunk spoke up, brows furrowed as he stared at his friend.

The poor kid looked drained; skin paled, bags under his eyes, and red in the corners.

He was exhausted.

It took them a moment to process this, watching as Lance sat down and smiled at them. “I even found more. In at over two hundred charted locations giving the correct conditions.”

Keith said it. “Idiot.”

Lance blinked, visibly flinching at the sudden words, not what he had expected at all.

“What…?”

Pidge looked annoyed, although it was probably at the fact Lance had done something tech related better than her for once.

“You stayed up ALL NIGHT? On a map that wasn’t even that important?” She said, gaping.

Lance paused, “Not that…Wh… But you guys got so upset when I messed it up, an worked on it all day!”

Keith rolled his eyes, “Yeah, it needed done, but it wasn’t life or death. Look at you!”

Shiro, in a nicer tone, agreed. “He’s right, Lance. You didn’t have to do this, and it’s not healthy putting yourself through such stress.”

Hunk bit his lip, “I mean, you’re really tired right? What if, What o Zarkon attacked and you just fell asleep durin battle?”

“He would KILL you.” Allura confirmed. Coran nodded.

“You’ve got to take care of yourself.”

Lance looked around at his friends, not believing what he was hearing in the slightest.

How could they accuse him like this?
How could they be so rude?

Lance had done this for them, staying up all night to fix his mistake. He had wants to make them happy!

The blue paladin wanted to be apart of the team and help out for once, even if it was in a simple manner.

He hadn’t wanted to be reprimanded for a deed he believed was good.

Frustrated tears appeared, and Lance crossed his arms. “Fine, whatever, I’ll go to bed. Do what you want with that.”

He stood up, swayed, and nearly toppled over with exhaustion. Lance couldn’t stand the worried looks he was getting.

The hood came back up.
Things were supposed to have been okay.

Lance marched to his room, rubbing his nose with an aggravated sniff and glaring the tears away.

It wasn’t okay.
Why couldn’t it ever be okay?

Remember that we only have this one life.

Only one.

And yet, it is so short. We only have so much time. Look back, and it will seem like you were just born yesterday. See how fast time has flown by? It’s astounding.

So take a moment. Right here, right now. Remember how valuable you are.
Remember how short life really is.

Are you living your dreams? Are you working on yourself? Your relationships? Your talents and goals? Are you genuinely happy? Do you feel contempt?

We only have so many days. So many seconds.
Please, make sure you don’t waste a single one of them, for they will continue to fly by faster than we can even notice.

—  Nicole Addison @thepowerwithin

I AM SO OVERWHELMED BY THE FEELINGS IN MY HEART RIGHT NOW. MY TINY HEART IS TOO TINY FOR THIS NONSENSE LIKE WHAT IN THE FUCK

EMMA IS MAKING FUCKING PANCAKES

IN A ROBE AND WE ALL FUCKING KNOW WHAT HAPPENED THE NIGHT BEFORE WHILE KILLIAN WALKS UP BEHIND HER IN AN UNBUTTONED VEST WHICH LBR IS BASICALLY HIM BEING NAKED LIKE THE NUMBER OF LAYERS ON THIS MAN AT ALL TIMES IS ABSURD BUT LIKE

THIS IS TOO MUCH. I CANNOT LOOK DIRECTLY AT IT.

THIS IS LIKE THE FUCKING SUN. I AM BLINDED BY THE JOY AND THE HAPPINESS AND THE CONTENTMENT AND THE WAY HE’S GRINNING INTO HER SKIN AND THE WAY SHE BITES HER LIP. THIS IS AHHHHHHHHH MAKE IT STOP

AND SHE LIKE FUCKING POUNCES ON HIM AND HER HANDS DON’T FUCKING STOP MOVING AND HER LIPS ARE SO INSISTENT AND 

SHE KEEPS FUCKING PULLING HIM CLOSER AND CLOSER AND WHAT T H E F U C KKKKK I CANNOT HANDLE THIS EVEN A LITTLE

ALSO CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW WILD HER HAIR IS? SHE CLEARLY JUST WOKE UP AND CAME DOWN TO MAKE THEM BOTH PANCAKES BECAUSE THEY MUST BE STARVING AND HE GOT DRESSED HALF WAY AND CAME DOWN TO FIND HER WHEN HE SMELLED ALL THE NICE THINGS AND THEN HE SEES HER WITH HER HAIR ALL WILD AND HER FACE ALL FRESH AND GLOWY AND HAPPY AND WHO CAN BLAME HIM FOR WANTING TO KISS HER OK?

OK BUT WHAT KILLS ME THE DEADEST IS THAT SHE PULLS AWAY JUST SO SHE CAN LOOK AT HIM. CLEARLY SHE WANTS TO KEEP KISSING HIM BUT IN THAT MOMENT, SHE NEEDS SO SEE HIS FACE, TO SEE AGAIN HOW MUCH HE LOVES HER AND WHAT SHE HAS NOW AND I CANNOT LOOK AT HIS SMILE THIS IS TOO MUCH *SHIELDS EYES*

GUYS, GUYS, GUYS. I THINK SHE LOVES HIM.

AND I THINK HE LOVES HER.

SHE’S SO FUCKING HAPPY AND SHE LOOKS SO YOUNG HERE AND SO HAPPY AND IN LOVE AND SHE LOVES HIM SO MUCH OMG

HE CAN’T BELIEVE IT EITHER BECAUSE WHO WOULD HAVE FUCKING THOUGHT RIGHT? 

AND THEN SHE’S LIKE FUCK WAIT MUST GET BACK TO THE KISSING. HE’S SO GOOD AT THE KISSING. MUST TOUCH SOFT LIPS AGAIN.

AND UGH IT STARTS SO SOFT BUT PICKS UP SO FUCKING QUICK LIKE WTF AND HE JUST RESPONDS WITHOUT MISSING A BEAT LIKE THIS IS TOO MUCH FOR ME BECAUSE THEY LOVE EACH OTHER AND WANT EACH OTHER SO MUCH, IT MAKES MY HEART MELT ALSO SEEING THAT RING ON HER FINGER IS HURTING MY EYES AGAIN.

THE HANDS, THE HANDSSSSSS

WILL NO ONE THINK OF THE POOR FANGIRLS?! WHY WOULD YOU KISS THIS WAY?! WITH THE FRANTIC PULLING EACH OTHER CLOSER AND THE HANDS THAT WON’T STOP TOUCHING. WHY WOULD YOU HURT ME THIS WAY YOU ASSHOLES?!

I CAN’T TAKE IT BECAUSE THEY’RE SMILING THE ASSHOLES DO THEY NOT KNOW WHAT THIS IS DOING TO MY SMALL TINY HEART?!

TO HELL WITH THE PANCAKES. YASSS EMMA, YASSSSS.

AND SHE FUCKING PUSHES HIM INTO THE TABLE AND SHE’S PROBABLY BETWEEN HIS LEGS RIGHT NOW AND HIS HAND IS RUNNING UP AND DOWN HER BACK AND HIS HOOK IS HOLDING HER STEAD BECAUSE SHE CANNOT STOP MOVING HER HANDS

AND LIKE FUCKING SOMEONE HAS TO KEEP THEM FROM FALLING ONTO THE TABLE BUT BY THE LOOKS OF IT, EMMA TOTALLY WANTS KILLIAN TO FALL ONTO HIS BACK RIGHT THERE OK?! LIKE NOPE LET’S JUST DO THE DO RIGHT HERE. SMOOSHING BOOTIES ON THE DINING TABLE.

AND LOL THE SHOCK! THEY’RE SO DAZED THIS IS HILARIOUS

AND KILLIAN SAYING LIKE OH YOUR MOTHER HAS A KEY. THAT’S GOOD INFORMATION. YES OK. TRY TO CALM DOWN NOW.

THE SHOCK AND THE WIDE EYES LOLOLOL

BUT OK I FUCKING LOVE HOW EMMA JUST LOOKS AMUSED PRETTY MUCH THROUGH THIS WHOLE EXCHANGE BECAUSE THOUGH SHE REALLY, REALLY WANTS TO DO THE DO WITH HER FIANCE IN THEIR HOUSE (WHAT THE FUCK HOW DID WE GET HERE FROM CLIMBING A BEANSTALK TOGETHER ONE TIME FUCK FUCK FUCKKKK) 

SHE NEVER THOUGHT SHE’S HAVE THIS EITHER? HER MOTHER ACCIDENTALLY WALKING IN ON THEM AND LIKE IT’S LIKE EMBARRASSING OR WHATEVER BUT SHE’S JUST SO FUCKING HAPPY TO HAVE ALL THIS IN HER LIFE NOW? THESE MOMENTS OF PEACE AND LOVE AND SILLINESS

AND LOL SHE’S LIKE NOOOO AND KILLIAN IS LIKE HAHAHA YES WE WERE ABOUT TO BANG YOUR MAJESTY. I HAVE A SERIOUS PROBLEM RN LOL ALSO I LOVE THAT THOUGH SNOW IS RIGHT THERE, EMMA STRAIGHT UP DOEAN’T MOVE FOR FUCKING AGES AND JUST KEEPS RUNNING HER HANDS OVER KILLIAN’S SHOULDERS, SOOTHING HIM  AND TOUCHING HIM STILL AND KILLIAN’S HAND DOESN’T MOVE FROM HER WAIST EITHER

LIKE DESPITE THE DISCOMFORT, IT’S ALSO SUCH A COMFORTABLE MOMENT?! IT’S SO DOMESTIC AND ORDINARY AND EMMA IS STILL STROKING KILLIAN’S ARM HERE AND I AM IN SO MUCH PAIN *CRIES TEARS OF BLOOD* AND THEY ONLY FUCKING STAND WHEN SNOW IS LIKE UMM PANCAKES LOLOL

AND THIS ASSHOLE LOLOLOL HE IS SO UNAMUSED. I’VE LOST MY APPETITE. BRACING FUCKING SHOWER HE SAYS  LOLOLOL

THIS CHEEK KISS, THE PANCAKES, THE KILLIAN’S HAND ON HER WAIST AGAIN. THE DOMESTICITY OF IT ALL

LOOK HOW HAPPY SHE IS. DO YOU SEE IT? DO YOU SEE THE JOY IN HER EYES?! SHE’S SO HAPPY GODDAMNIT

*THROWS ALL THE THINGS*

THIS IS TOO MUCH. I CANNOT HANDLE THIS. FUCKING FUCK FUCKKK

Soulmates

Pairing: Harry and Y/N

Word Count: 1600

Prompt (AU) : Harry took his anger out in sex-and you weren’t supposed to do that. He would go to the bar and find others just as terrible and lonely as him, drink, and then sink his sorrows into anything with breast and a hole were to put it. Niall always rolled his eyes the next morning and say to Harry “you’re a proper dick, yeh know that right?”, to which Harry would lift his middle finger up and respond with, “if soulmates are real she would love me anyhow.”

“Harry when you meet her your life will change,” Anne says, handing him a cup of tea.

Harry rolls his eyes, “I don’t care to meet her. It’s all bullshit,” Harry grumbles.


Y/N was never much of a talker; she had maybe said eight sentences in her whole life time. She wasn’t sure where the fear really came from, the fear of saying the wrong thing, of being too loud, of not being heard, so she kept to herself. People didn’t seem to understand though, they couldn’t comprehend why she chose to not talk, so she was labeled as weird, freak, stupid etc. Then they labeled her as mute (and she was) but she hated that term, she really did, Y/N just hated being labeled. At first it hurt, it really did, but Y/N soon learned to ignore them, she could only really care about what her Soulmate would have to say, and deep down a part of her wished that they were like her, quiet.

Soulmates, Y/N had been waiting for hers for a long time. She could remember sitting in class in fifth grade, when the teacher explained the process. She explained how everyone was born with a mark, a mark that only their other half had and she made them find that mark. Y/N’s was on her wrist, it was small, and lighter than her regular skin color, she wasn’t sure what it was at first, it just looked like a stick. But the teacher explained how the mark gets more detailed as they get older and closer to finding their person, and Y/N had noticed how that mark slowly grew into a small flower, a petal or two still missing.

Her teacher explained how every person was made for the other, and that they would feel their soulmates emotions, pain, negative thoughts, happy thoughts. They were connected and no matter what the other would always feel what their person was feeling. Y/N had learned that her person always seemed to be grumpy.

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like real people do p.2 | jungkook

summary: the feelings for your friends with benefits are changing. months pass, and you feel your gut telling you that you want more. you’re just not sure if he feels the same.

college student!reader, friends with benefits!jungkook

piece 1, piece 2, piece 3

this component is based off russ’s cherry hill

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The Signs as Art Styles
  • Aries: Impressionism. Aries have a fascination and love for nature and colors, which is shown a lot in impressionism. They live in the moment and like to be present in time, instead of worrying about the past or future.
  • Taurus: Fauvism. Many Taurus's love expressing themselves. From wearing t-shirts with their favorite band or movie on it, to making their own stories or music. Artists that used Fauvism in their art use their art to express themselves. They are much like Taurus's in that aspect.
  • Gemini: Surrealism. A Gemini loves to explore their mind, delving into the depths of their creativity and learning all about themselves. Surrealism is all about exploring the unconscious mind, which is what Gemini's would love to do if they were artists.
  • Cancer: Naturalism. Cancers like to read people, and they drown themselves in their own emotions. Naturalism shows a range of expressions, gestures, and postures. A Cancer is much like art in Naturalism.
  • Leo: Cubism. Cubism was the first style of abstract art, and like a Leo would do, it started something new. Leo's are trend setters - they are not followers. They tend to look beyond what they see, and discover new things that they enjoy, they don't just look at what everyone else is doing.
  • Virgo: Dadaism. Virgo's are rebels. They don't like to follow the rules and they like to disobey, in order to prove a point. Dadaism was created out of anger for how things were at the time, in terms of the social and political state of the country. A Virgo would love looking into the history of Dadaism.
  • Libra: Post Impressionism. Libra's like to be independent. They don't care what the biggest trend is, they don't care how many friends they have - as long as they're happy. Post Impressionists were a small group of individuals who created their own independent styles, just like how Libra's and their group have similarities, but they are fully themselves.
  • Scorpio: Photorealism. Scorpios are blunt, upfront, and honest. Which sometimes makes them look like an asshole. Photorealism is a very realistic form of painting/drawing, which is like a Scorpio in the way that they're real and don't tell you lies.
  • Sagittarius: Abstract Art. Sagittarius are creative and imaginative, they like to look deeper into the things they see. They like to be interesting and they like people to want to ask questions. Abstract Art is just that - creative, imaginative, and it provokes questions. What does it mean? What is it? Some of these questions can be answered, some can't. Just the same as a Sagittarius.
  • Capricorn: Pop Art. Capricorns are fun, lively people who live freely and enjoy the little things in life. Pop Art started in the 1950's and 60's, bringing some light to the post war atmosphere that took over the US. Capricorns do the same thing, they try to lighten up anyone who needs - or even doesn't need - a little happiness in their life.
  • Aquarius: Scenic Art. A scenic artist has many skills, and can make their art using many different tools. Aquarius have different skills and they have many different traits - and most people enjoy a few of them. They're very likable and they work well with others, just as scenic art can conform to anyone's aesthetic needs.
  • Pisces: Expressionism. Pisces look into themselves. They, like Taurus's, love expressing themselves - but in a more emotional way. They don't hide their feelings and they're open to those they're close with. Expressionists used self expression in their art and showed themselves through what they created.
The price of hard work

Check Please, following Bitty’s jam debacle


Lardo sighed. Immediately, Bitty set the ingredients on the counter and turned around, caretaker instincts on full alert.

‘Lardo? What is it?’

‘Humpf. I need to price my art, and it sucks,’ she mumbled, drawing a duckling on the margin of her list. ‘Needs to be done before the end of year expo, but honestly? I’d rather give the lot and don’t bother with money.’

‘Larissa Duan! You spent the entire semester on these! You can’t just give them away!’

‘… Yeah but I like making art.’

‘It’s still work! You should be paid for that effort! And all the money you spent on supplies- lord I can’t even imagine how much those gigantic canvases are. Weren’t you complaining about how expensive good paint is just the other day?’

‘Yeah, I guess so. So, you’re saying all good work deserves remuneration?’

‘Of course!’

‘So you should get paid for your jam.’

‘Wait what- no! Not me! This is completely different-’

‘Hm. I tried. Shits, your turn.’

At that same moment, Shitty enters the kitchen, dressed only in a pair of Falconers boxers and a black tshirt that belonged to Lardo, which fit him like a crop top. Bitty didn’t even know he was at Samwell that day. 

‘Eric Bitty Bittleman The Second, tiny bro of my heart, maker of the pies, we need to talk.’

‘If this is about the jam, I already told the Falcs I didn’t want to be paid-’

‘I’m here to talk to you about market pricing, my man. There are other people, out there, working their asses off to make delicious jam, and they love doing it as much as you do. But those bros, bro, are actually depending on it to pay the rent. What you’re doing, here, is depreciating the value of jam, and convincing fans of said jam that they can have an product of excellent quality- for FREE! This is bad for business, Bits, this can even come back and bite you in the ass when you open a bakery. You don’t want to hurt future you and your fellow bakers, don’t you?’

Bitty stays silent for a moment, mouth wide open.

‘I- I didn’t think of it like that! I was just, you know, in the zone, you know how I get? And then there was all this jam, and I know the team would make a good effort, but they couldn’t seriously eat it all? But, I didn’t know it actually had an impact on the economy?’

‘Well, now that they know where to find delicious jam and baked goods for free, do you think the Falcs, their families and the SMH are going to get it elsewhere?’

Bitty bit his lip and looked at his hands.

‘I just wanted to make them happy. I love feeding people.’

‘And you can! You still can! I’m not saying you can’t make gifts once in a while or bake for your friends, I’m just saying there’s a line at some point.’

‘Yeah, I guess you’re right. But I know nothing about- about pricing! Lardo, how do you even manage with art?’

‘I use my resources, man,’ she said, snapping her fingers.

At that moment, Ransom and Holster barged into the kitchen, both carrying their laptops.

‘Boys? Were you all waiting in the hallway?’

‘No time for chitchat, Bits, time is money,’ says Holster, straddling a chair backwards in front of him. ‘We’re here to help.’

‘I got a spreadsheet here,’ says Ransom, sliding his laptop. ‘Compiling ingredient prices, electricity for the oven, mason jar prices, transport from Samwell to Providence and your work time, from the moment you went to buy those fruits until you closed your last mason jar.’

‘That- that is a lot of time.’

‘Wish I had that kind of concentration for studying law,’ grumbled Shitty.

‘It’s not all,’ continued Ransom. ‘This second sheet calculates the prices of similar products from spots around Samwell and Providence, from the Stop N’ Shop to the fancy little cafés and farmers market near Jack’s house.’

‘Wait, did Jack sent you those?’

‘Brah, Jack ASKED US to do this,’ said Holster with a roll of his eyes.

‘So, here are the prices of a single jam unit- counting the ingredients and the mason jar,’ said Ransom, before clicking on another Excel page, ‘and this is the price of each if one calculates the time worked, compared to what bakers and cooks make in those same cafés and suppliers.’

‘…I- I understand wanting to keep the market, and paying for the ingredients,’ hesitated Bitty, ‘but I’m still not sure I want to be paid to bake?’

‘I’m gonna give away every single one of my art pieces,’ said Lardo, doodling more ducklings. 

‘… Alright, alright, I think I get it. I’ll just put the money in the Haus funds, since I took pretty much all of it to pay for the ingredients.’

‘You put back what you took and you keep the rest,’ said Shitty. ‘Do you really want to graduate without a cent in the bank and live off of Jack’s salary?’

‘What? No! Of course not!’

‘So start making dough, my boy. That future bakery won’t finance itself, you know.’

‘Also, people respect a product if they have to pay a reasonable price for it,’ commented Holster. ‘You don’t want to ruin your reputation from the get go. Honestly I’d suggest asking for more, since it’s also fucking delicious and a secret family recipe and organic shit people are crazy about, but we’ll work our way up there over the years.’

‘Here, I got the price per unit, what everyone bought listed hockey team, then alphabetically, the total, subtracting what was borrowed to the Sin Bin fund- that makes-’

‘GOOD LORD THAT’S MORE THAN FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS.’

‘Well, it WAS a shit ton of jam,’ shrugged Lardo.

‘And hard work, too,’ added Shitty. ‘So, do you accept?’

‘Well, I guess? Y’all make a lot of good points…’

‘Sweet,’ said Lardo, sending a text.

A moment later, Bitty’s cell phone vibrated with a message. His bank application signalled that someone transferred him funds- 

‘How did Jack know exactly how much to send???’

‘Told ya, Bits, it was all his idea,’ said Shitty. ‘And the Falcs have been giving him money, even hiding it in the pockets of his hockey bag, to pay for their stuff. He just wanted to make sure you were on board with it.’

Bitty didn’t know what to feel about all this, he was still insecure about pricing his jam - and his pies, cookies, muffins and other pastries, if one was to believe Ransom’s other Excel spread sheet- but the reality was that he was now five thousand dollars closer to open his own bakery, someday.

Just wanted to post some more photos from the marriage equality rally in Melbourne yesterday, and take the chance to tell a couple of stories because there was so much love in my city and I’m so proud of everyone. Long post, sorry, but there’s a bit to cover - ye be warned.

I spotted this cute couple as I walked out of Melbourne Central (a shopping centre and train station all mashed together) and told them they looked fab. Spotted them again and asked for a photo - they were very happy to oblige when all of a sudden the ABC came up asking for an interview, and I took this pic. They were beautiful people.

I’d seen this guy post in the Facebook event just before I left home, and suddenly found myself standing right next to him! We had a quick chat about how many people had arrived and then waxed about how AMAZE it would be if Lady Gaga parachuted in to the masses. Really funny guy and I’m glad to have met him. I swear I’m so much more personable at these things. 

I do love a simple home-made sign. I don’t have a story about this guy, sorry. Actually from here on in it’s all random stories of the day, assume the pics are unrelated.

The Greens senator Janet Rice got her rainbow family on stage while she was talking. Her wife is the Nobel Prize winning climatologist Penny Whetton, and she just happens to be trans. Senator Rice mentioned that in order for a married person to transition they must first divorce their partner. This information drew an audible gasp - fifteen thousand people had just heard this information for the first time and were disgusted.

A timely reminder that marriage equality doesn’t just effect the L and the G.

I spent my time during the speeches standing with the Greens, who I vote for (in the Senate at least) and who gave me a free shirt, so I felt obliged. They’ve been in this fight ever since former prime minister John Howard changed the marriage act - without the need for a plebiscite or survey - so I felt very comfortable chilling with them. I was about to take a photo for them when an organiser came up and announced that Senator Rice was about to do a press conference. They wanted representation in the shot, and as I was standing there and very obviously trans they asked if I wanted to be involved. I’m not a member yet, though, and declined. Besides, I am way too shy for that shit.

There were these two young girls - actually, side note, its amazing how many kids were not only there but openly passionate about the topic of the day - but these two girls couldn’t have been more than seven or eight, and they were leading a cheer as we marched:

One, two, three, four: equality is what we’re for!
Five, six, seven, eight: rainbow families are so great!


They were incredible, and you better believe that people were chanting along with them, these two young cheerleaders who were so full of life and love. 

When the speeches started, the organisers said there were, as I said, about 15,000 people in attendance. Trams were not able to travel on Swanston Street, because people were covering the tram tracks. The lawn and steps leading to the State LIbrary was covered in people, myself included. People stretched down the street and crowded nearby balconies and you couldn’t get out of Melbourne Central on the Swanston St side like, at all.

When we marched, we picked up a lot more people. And I noticed at one point that we covered three entire streets - Latrobe, Elizabeth and Burke - and that doesn’t include the people that had decided to wait on Swanston. By the time everyone got back to the State Library we numbered twenty thousand.

Twenty thousand beautiful, loving, amazing people. It was incredible.

Finally, just a pic of my free shit (and also the free ribbon I received). I had a great time at the rally. More importantly, I’m galvanised. I haven’t campaigned for a political cause since Howard tried to implement an industrial relations bill called WorkChoices, which cost him the 2007 election. I was kinda active then.

Nothing can stop me now.

I’ve signed up to drop leaflets in my neighbourhood. I’m going to as many rallies as I can. I’m going to try and get involved in planning sessions for further action. I’m going to fight for this.

But it’s supremely shitty that Australia even finds itself in this situation.

Back in 2004, as I mentioned, John Howard made changes to the Marriage Act so that the legal definition was exclusively between a man and a woman. This change happened in parliament. Politicians on both sides did not feel the need to formally consult the people before voting unanimously for the change.

In desperation a few years ago (because we queers had gotten very, very loud), then prime minister Tony Abbott (he of the many memes) proposed that if queer people really wanted to get married then they could vote for the right to do so, in a plebiscite. In Australia, if you want to change the Constitution then you hold a referendum, and the result of that is binding on parliament. Marriage, however, is not part of our constitution - furthermore, a plebiscite result does not bind the members of parliament to vote in accordance with the will of the people. It was a delaying tactic, nothing more.

A couple of months ago Minister for Immigration and Horrible Shitty Human Being Peter Dutton proposed a new idea if the plebiscite-enabling legislation was blocked once again by the Senate: a postal survey.

It is, again, non-binding. It’s not compulsory, unlike regular voting. And a survey doesn’t require legislation to acquire the funding. This idea really excited the badly-named Liberals. The expectation was that the No voters, overwhelmingly those who are over 50, would vote in droves while those who would be more inclined to vote Yes would fight each other over ideas of boycotting and have no time to persuade the most powerful group - young people between 18-24 who support marriage equality at a factor of 81% - to post their ballot forms.

That makes the twenty-thousand strong crowd at yesterday’s rally truly astounding. We’re not fighting about boycotts - those that have suggested it have been mostly convinced otherwise. We have all the time in the world to convince young people to vote and in fact the electoral roll has swelled with close to one hundred thousand new enrolments. In a small country like Australia (pop. 24 million) that’s a lot of new potential Yes votes.And queer Melbournians have never felt so much love before, we’re all a bit awed.

We could do with a little help though, especially from those of you who live in a country where marriage equality exists. We don’t need much. We just need you to tell stories. Talk about that big gay wedding you went to last week. Mention how your friends just got engaged and how you’re thrilled for them. Above all, share stories about how the world didn’t end, that people didn’t marry bridges, and that the only thing that really changed was that there is more love being openly celebrated. 

We know that 70% of the country supports marriage equality. We also know that 1 in 5 of those people aren’t sure if they’re going to vote. So a little bit of convincing from internetionals will go a long, long way.

That’s all from me. Thanks for taking the time to read this. I love you all.

And remember: superheroes vote yes!

anonymous asked:

Hey it's the Disney anon! Yeah I meant sort of live action BATB cause I love the Bucky fic you did😊 So if it's something you'd be happy to write for can I request a reader x gaston fic where they grew up together and she is in love with him but is convinced it isn't mutual & that he deserves better so doesn't tell him. Another guy asks her out & she accepts cause she thinks she should move on if gaston will never love her. But Gaston actually gets super jealous/possessive. Hope it's ok thanks❤

Pairing: Gaston x Reader
Fandom: Disney ; Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Warnings: /

A/N: asdfghjkl, I’m so glad you send me this request, I literally grinned so hard when I got it! I don’t normally post two things a day, but I literally had the easiest time writing this. This prompt gave me so much inspiration that I just typed it in one go and I’m actually quite happy with how it turned out. I hope you like it as well and if you have any other gaston x reader request please send them my way. I LOVE writing for him and the reader. (added Gaston to my fandoms list)

                                                           *****

“You’re staring again,” LeFou, who had seemingly snuck up on you, whispered.

You blinked a few times to break the spell you were under before and turned around, wanting to convince him that, no, you weren’t staring at Gaston like a fool in love. 

But the look he threw you was enough to know that it wouldn’t work on him.

“It’s not like I don’t understand. And I’m certainly not the one to judge you,” he winked at you and you had to laugh a little. “But what I don’t understand is why you don’t tell him. You’ve known each other for so long..”

“Oh LeFou. If only it were so easy. Look at him..-” he was currently chasing Belle again. “He doesn’t feel the same and I doubt he ever will. He needs a woman who cooks for him and plays the good wife. You and me both know that I’m not that kind of woman.”

“Neither is Belle! Which is why he fancies her! So what makes you different?”

“I’m a huntress, LeFou. Belle and me are completely the opposite of each other. If she’s his type then I’m most certainly not.”

“She’s beautiful. That’s why she’s his type. And do I need to remind you of your beauty?”

You sighed and turned around to face your friend, smiling a little, then hugging him.

In the meantime, Gaston gave up for today in chasing Belle and approached the two of you.

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something we casually forget about PINOF 4. this was taken during 2012, aka, the sad years of phan. you can tell how internally uncomfortable they were and unnaturally more skinny than usual. but still in that time, screenshots like this were taken. dan lovingly smiling at Phil from behind while phil flashes that gorgeous smile. in little parts throughout the video, you can still see how much they love each other. whether it’s romantic gazes or the “ i feel special” “you are” moments, dan and phil have always stuck together through thick and thin, no matter how bad the times were. although those times were tough but they still showed affection, nowadays, looking at PINOF 8 and furthermore, they’re now open about their love. whether it’s romantic or simply friendly, just look at them now. we’re all so proud of their perseverance. we must, as the phandom, their source of views and support, must always stay by their side and encourage them. they have a healthy happy relationship together and it is our responsibility to help them stay positive. the last thing we want is another 2012, the sad year, we want to extend dan and phil’s legacy and make it a happy one. throughout time, specifically 2009-2011 is where you could tell they didn’t care. they didn’t care what people thought of them, they didn’t care if their relationship was open. during the tragic year of 2012, the boys drifted apart. but they have such a connection that, in the photo above, they cannot break. no matter how secretive they want to be, or sad they are, dan will still gaze fondly at phil, and phil will occasionally flash the love eyes himself, whilst providing us all with his perfect smile. no matter how broken they are, i know dan and phil have a bond that they can’t break. so here’s the message. don’t be someone you’re not. never give up. find that one person that will make your life a dream come true. grow a bond like Dan and Phil.

reblog to spread the word
Yuri on Ice interview translation - Animage 2017/01 (p20-23)

I was going to post this last week but gave priority to the BD stuff. This will be the final interview from the booklet that came with January Animage! There’s still an interview with Kenji Miyamoto left untranslated, but it will be taken care of by @whiteboxgems​ whenever she has time! I’ll reblog it when it’s around.

This is actually 2 interviews, I’m posting them together because they were one after the other and (main reason) because the second one is very short.
A few notes below to better understand the interviews.

The first one is with Yuuichirou Hayashi, the one who created the ending (ED = ending by the way) footage. I have the feeling someone previously posted translations of the captions under the ED screenshots, but I don’t remember where and I’m pretty sure it was just the captions and not the interview parts, so here you have it complete. This one is pretty interesting because he explains in detail how they created the ED, and has some extra information on cut scenes etc. Definitely a must read in my opinion!

The second one is a short interview with Kayoko Ishikawa, the one who did the costume designs. Here you might think: didn’t Chacott design the costumes? I’ll explain. It’s more or less like with Mitsurou Kubo and Tadashi Hiramatsu: Kubo created the original designs for the characters, from scratch, and Hiramatsu transformed them into designs specifically created for animation, therefore with simpler lines, detailed expression sheets and so on. Likewise, Chacott did the original designs for the costumes, from scratch, based on the indications by Yamamoto and Kubo, and then the anime’s costume designer simplified and modified them so that they would be suitable to be animated. (Before actually animating them there’s a further step: the anime’s color designer is going to decide the exact colors, shadows and highlights included, that will be used inside the anime. I translated an interview with the color designer Izumi Hirose some time ago)

I usually don’t add pictures but this time I felt that it would be better to add them as an immediate reference. However, they are just for reference and are not meant to be visually stunning, so please bear with the quality because I just took photos of the magazine with my phone and quickly edited them.

Translation under the cut! (kind of image-heavy)

***If you wish to share this translation please do it by reblogging or posting a link to it***

***Re-translating into other languages is ok but please mention that this post is the source***

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How Pink Diamond was shattered

It’s all coming together.

So lets start off with this.

This is what started the rebellion, the first act of treason from Rose Quartz, but here’s the thing, we’ve already seen the scene directly after the act of poofing pink diamond. (I specified ‘poofing’ and not ‘shattering’ for a reason, bare with me)

This is it. Right here.

If you’ve watched Rose’s Scabbard as many times as I have (so many, too many) then you know how this scene goes.

Rose: “Pearl, I’m going to stay and fight for this planet.”

This dialogue is so, so important. They’ve reached a breaking point (ha) here. Something that Rose just did has pushed them both into needing to make a choice. There’s no going back. Rose chooses to stay.

It’s important to notice her expressions here.

The first thing that strikes me is that for a few frames she’s looking away from Pearl, looking back. What exactly is she looking at? The evidence of what she’s just done? Pink Diamond’s Gem?

But it’s her eyes that really do it for me.

She looks haunted.

Then the urgency of the situation comes in through the dialogue, and here’s why I think this just happened.

Rose: “You don’t have to do this with me.”
Pearl: “But I want to!”
Rose: “I know you do. Please, please understand, if we lose we’ll be killed, and if we win, we can never go home.”

She’s done something punishable by death, so she gives Pearl the option of leaving. She still has time to give Pearl the option of leaving.

This, if nothing else is proof that Homeworld doesn’t know that Pink Diamond has been poofed yet, that the act of treason has just been committed. They are the only  gems who know what has happened, we know this because not only does Eyeball confirm that there were witnesses to Pink Diamond’s shattering but, in the beginning of “The Answer” when Pearl and Rose first attack, the Ruby guards can be heard crying out:

Who are you?!”
“Show yourselves!”

At that point all Homeworld knew was that there was a rebellion, they didn’t know who had rebelled, who attacked Pink Diamond.

Back to Rose’s Scabbard.

If Pearl returns to Homeworld now it’ll be without consequence, she won’t be blamed because nobody knows what just happened, Pearl can lie, claim no involvement, anything. Rose knows this, tries to protect her by offering her a means of escape. (It’s obvious by her body language, her hesitation, and her resignation that she wants Pearl to stay but she would never ask that of her, but that’s another post entirely ;D )

Pearl declines, of course.

(Rose looks so relieved and happy and ajshgjakhgs)

We’ve just witnessed the start of the rebellion and the birth of the Crystal Gems.

Now this. This is where and how Pink Diamond was shattered.

The rebellion is underway, a thousand year war. The Crystal Gems are outnumbered, outgunned, and it all comes to a head in the strawberry battlefield where it seems that White Diamond has been sent in to finish them off once and for all.

This mural has always reminded me of something straight out of Sailor Moon.

And I believe the same scenario played out here. The odds were stacked against them, they were facing total defeat. So Rose, like Usagi, uses her last resort, her strongest weapon.

In this case, that’s Pink Diamond’s Gem.

And this is what happens.

She never meant to shatter her.