like how do i even remember my own name

10 girls I keep in my heart

1. Beauty was never your goal. Your eyeliner is sharp, a blade, war paint. Your laugh is deep and unwavering, open mouthed to bear fangs. I remember when you cut your long hair off and streaked it with pink. Not like a fairy but like a fire. Yet water runs through your veins. You love your mother so.

2. Oh girl of the earth, you never liked poetry. I think you were carved from the mountains that you’ve never seen. The strongest winds cannot move you. Your hands never rub raw. Yet your edges are soft for stone.

3. Your house is full of beautiful things but you don’t see any of it. Nothing ever feels like home. Storms blow through you so often I think you gave up on rebuilding. And now you live among the rubble. Your anger broke my windows and cut at my cheeks. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

4. How does your smile always manage to reach your ears? So wide you have to close your eyes to make room. Your hugs nearly suffocate me but I don’t mind at all. You play nirvana on your guitar and you don’t understand the lyrics. I hope you never do.

5. I miss you everyday. The gentlest soul on earth. The world hasn’t given you half as much as you deserve. I can’t believe how many people don’t even know your name. Your heart is full of tulips and an angel sent you my way.

6. My first love. You opened my eyes. We spoke our own language and danced like no one was watching. I kept every drawing you made for me. I wonder if you remember me from time to time.

7. My oldest friend. We are holding hands underwater. We are hiding in bushes. We are spinning elaborate stories and pretending not to notice how they unravel. You used to fall asleep on my shoulder. I hope our paths cross soon.

8. You are so much made from so little. You radiate with the force of the sun your body can barely contain you. How you saw me through your own light I do not know. Your name is from the moon and Jupiter is in the art you make. Oh girl born to live.

9. I’ve seen 7000 sides of you. Multidimensional and deep as an ocean. And what lives under the surface bites. I’ve mastered the art of walking on water. I was never good enough to reach you. But someone will be. Someone is coming. I promise.

10. How is it that every song is about you? I wonder if you realize that I look for you everywhere. Your soul is in splinters they’ve flown up to space. They’re tangled in trees. You’ve sent them my way. Oh I’ve felt you exploding not in anger but in creation. Galaxy after galaxy. Oh nebulas light my way home. You are dandelions spilling over rolling hills. You are grass stained jeans. You are Ferris wheels at sunset

So, I love how everyone is getting all into the eldritch horror visibly fae knowingly magical encounters. The descriptions are SO COOL. 

But I’ve been thinking about how our understandings of the Fair Folk originated not with people who had these super obvious encounters with this visible magic figure. Instead, they come from people attuned to the ways in which this world as it is, is magical and frightening and overwhelming, and decided that eldritch monsters were the most logical and comforting explanation. So, I’ve been thinking a lot about how so many interactions with the fair folx could happen without the student knowing it….how many of these interactions and deals may have happened already. A few true stories: My roommate joined ROTC her freshman year. Four years of university for free, for five years of military service. Don’t tell me that there is just flesh and bone under the glamour of a military uniform, under the medals worn by those who watched her sign her contract. The Fair Folk have always loved games, and to gamble your life in the future of uncertain war is certainly worth $60,000 tuition per year for four years, plus a monthly stipend.  I have a friend whose financial aid is paid by a grant from some folks from New York City. In exchange, once a year she dresses up, takes out her piercings, and goes to dinner with them.

Sit with us, tell us the stories of your studies, sing for us. Oh, you don’t sing anymore? But you sing so lovely. Sing.

At these dinners, she does not let her smile drop.  I worked with a senior who would be Successful. They did everything, could not say no, every opportunity bigger than the last and they could Do It All. Directing a musical with a full orchestra in the biggest theater, performing across town themself in a different show each weekend for months on end, five classes and a thesis. One night, drunk and at 2am, a time were the glamour drops and world blurs into honesty, they said “I am so fucking lonely.” That is a powerful trade: love as fair as can be, a beating heart, community. But they wanted to be able To Do It All and they did.  A few years ago, the school was raising money for the endowment (the school is always raising money for the endowment). They were holding a fundraising dinner, with Big Important People who must be Inspired by Students Like You in order to donate. They gathered together the most talented performers of the whole university. Dancers whose bodies defied physics, pianists who seemed to play with extra hands, singer whose voices rang inhuman. Maybe there is a reason we already had those skills, it’s hard to know. We’ve all made so many sacrifices already to end up at a school where we can get not a single credit for our talents. Maybe something is already taking its due. Still. They gathered us, and planted us through the field to mime silent excitement as the Big Important People entered the tent in a procession. They had us perform for them – but never in the way we do best. Bottle up your talent, make it look like this. Dressed us all head to toe in white. Gave clear instructions.

Hand them this book. Collect these cards. They will write a wish. If they speak to you, just smile. Do not speak back.

They had us wait behind the kitchen.

Whatever you do, do not eat the food.

The university knows how to make a deal. They know what a little Talent and a little Dignity is worth. And we already owe them so much…why not this too?  In the morning I went back to where the tent had been, only to find an empty football field.  —— I feel like I have to add that the last story is literally 100% true. The others I have taken small creative liberties with (mostly the ‘lonely’ one cause I don’t want that person to be identifiable). But this one is hundo percent reality. Nothing I could add about it would make it sound less weird. They set up this crazy huge tent for it and thousands of dollars of lights and projection equipment, and the next morning had taken down the entire thing. They had this whole projection thing that took up a side of the stadium with a video about how great the university is, except I’d never even HEARD OF most of the professors or programs they interviewed or discussed in it (like its a big uni but still). Went to go look them up the next day, but couldn’t remember the names. They had us count a specific number of steps from one section to another. They had us do a weird running pattern on the stadium stairs that was supposed to look cool but I think just opened a portal in to my own personal hell. I still have the white sneakers and sweatshirt they gave us but I legit have not worn them since that night; I’m slightly scared to wear them but somehow can’t throw them out. When the donors walked in to the tent, we literally just stood around the field jumping up and down with excitement (silently) and waving flags (silently) and for the first time I understood Artaudian horror. They had cards at their table that they were supposed to write these messages on, and then we would collect them in these books, and honestly the whole night is pretty hazy but it was weird. The whole thing was directed by Tony Award winner Diane Paulus (I swear to you this is true). Guys I’m low key pretty sure I’ve been to a revel and let me tell you, you are not a participant. You are there, but at best you are quaint entertainment, to be hidden in the corner when you’re not amusing them. You will do what they ask you (tell you). And there will be a part of you sitting on your shoulder saying, are you really doing that? And the answer will be yes, and it won’t be until after you leave that the wave will crash over you, nearly drowning you in the question, as you sputter awake asking, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK JUST HAPPENED? 



all text taken from the poetry book night sky with exit wounds by ocean vuong.

  • ‘  in the body, where everything has a price, i was a beggar.  ‘
  • ‘  he was singing, which is why i remember it. his voice — it filled me to the core like a skeleton.  ‘
  • ‘  even my name knelt down inside me, asking to be spared.  ‘
  • ‘  it is all i remember.  ‘
  • ‘  i was alive. i didn’t know there was a better reason.  ‘
  • ‘  i lost it all with my eyes wide open.  ‘
  • ‘  do you know who i am?  ‘
  • ‘  how easily a boy in a dress the red of shut eyes vanishes beneath the sound of his own galloping.  ‘
  • ‘  i’m dreaming of a curtain of snow falling from her shoulders.  ‘
  • ‘  snow scraping against the window. snow shredded with gunfire. red sky.  ‘
  • ‘  show me how ruin makes a home out of hip bones.  ‘
  • ‘  let every river envy our mouths. let every kiss hit the body like a season.  ‘
  • ‘  if you must know anything, know that the hardest task is to live only once.  ‘
  • ‘  if we make it to shore, i will name our son after this water. i will learn to love a monster.  ‘
  • ‘  he laughs despite knowing he has ruined every beautiful thing just to prove beauty cannot change him.  ‘
  • ‘  hey! you didn’t have to go this far. why did you go so far?  ‘
  • ‘  sometimes i feel like an ampersand.  ‘
  • ‘  everyone can forget us — as long as you remember.  ‘
  • ‘  i hold the gun & wonder if an entry wound in the night would make a hole as wide as morning.  ‘
  • ‘  there’s a lighthouse. some nights you are the lighthouse, some nights the sea.  ‘
  • ‘  what this means is that i don’t know desire other than the need to be shattered & rebuilt.  ‘
  • ‘  even tomorrow you will have today.  ‘
  • ‘  you’ll never forget yourself the way god forgets his hands.  ‘
  • ‘  the body is a blade that sharpens by cutting.  ‘
  • ‘  my mother said i could be anything i wanted — but i chose to live.  ‘
  • ‘  i am ready to be every animal you leave behind.  ‘
  • ‘  and this is how we loved: a fifth of vodka and an afternoon in the attic, your fingers though my hair — my hair a wildfire.  ‘
  • ‘  when our lips touched the day closed into a coffin.  ‘
  • ‘  the year is a distance we’ve traveled in circles.  ‘
  • ‘  we made it, baby. we’re riding in the back of the black limousine.  ‘
  • ‘  i love my country. i pretend nothing is wrong.  ‘
  • ‘  i’m holding your still-hot thoughts in, darling, my sweet, sweet ___.  ‘
  • ‘  you want to tell him it’s okay that the night is also a grave we climb out of.  ‘
  • ‘  you say thank you thank you thank you because you haven’t learned the purpose of forgive me.  ‘
  • ‘  you’re so quiet you’re almost tomorrow.  ‘
  • ‘  to love another man — is to leave no one behind to forgive me. i want to leave no one behind.  ‘
  • ‘  even though he’s gone, i still want to be clean.  ‘
  • ‘  if only the rain were gasoline, your tongue a lit match, & you can change without disappearing.  ‘
  • ‘  he dies each night you close your eyes & hear his slow exhale.  ‘
  • ‘  wait, i have something to say.  ‘
  • ‘  as if my finger, tracing your collarbone behind closed doors, was enough to erase myself.  ‘
  • ‘  to forget we built this house knowing it won’t last.  ‘
  • ‘  it’s funny. i always knew i’d be warmest beside by man.  ‘
  • ‘  don’t laugh. just tell me the story again.  ‘
  • ‘  speak — until your voice is nothing but the crackle of charred bones.  ‘
  • ‘  look how happy we are to be no one & still american.  ‘
  • ‘  i’ll tell you how we’re wrong enough to be forgiven/  ‘
  • ‘  say you’d kill for it.  ‘
  • ‘  don’t we touch each other just to prove we are still here?  ‘
  • ‘  silly me. i thought love was real and the body imaginary.  ‘
  • ‘  i said yes because you asked me to stay.  ‘
  • ‘  there is so much i want to tell you. how my greatest accolade was to walk across the brooklyn bridge & not think of flight.  ‘
  • ‘  you will always remember what you were doing when it hurts the most.  ‘
  • ‘  dearest father, forgive me for i have seen.  ‘
  • ‘  once, i fell in love during a slow-motion car crash.  ‘
  • ‘  i wrote a better hour onto the page & watched the fire take it back.  ‘
  • ‘  this means you are not alone.  ‘
  • ‘  don’t stay here. don’t cry anymore.  ‘
  • ‘  i promise to stop soon.  ‘
  • ‘  how come depression makes me feel more alive?  ‘
  • ‘  i shouldn’t have, but he had the hands of someone i used to know. someone i was used to.  ‘
  • ‘  i dreamed i walked barefoot all the way to your house in the snow. everything was the blue of smudged ink and you were still alive.  ‘
  • ‘  here. that’s all i wanted to be.  ‘
  • ‘  don’t worry. your father is only your father until one of you forgets.  ‘
  • ‘  the end of the road is so far ahead it is already behind us.  ‘
  • ‘  don’t be afraid, the gunfire is only the sound of people trying to live a little longer & failing.  ‘
  • ‘  remember, loneliness is still time spent with the world.  ‘
  • ‘  the difference between prayer & mercy is how you move the tongue.  ‘
  • ‘  so what if my feathers are burning. i never asked for flight.  ‘
Just a Number- William Nylander

Originally posted by jodrouin

Ok anon I hope this is something close to what you had in mind! Serious Willy is not a fun Willy XD Anyway! Hope you guys enjoy!

Warning: none

Anon Request: You’re seriously my fav tumblr account ever💖💖 anyway could you write an imagine with William nylander where he is insecure about dating an older woman like thinking that he is not mature enough for her or something :)


              You had noticed a change in Willy recently but you didn’t know what was causing it.

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Throne of Glass series sentence starters
  • “Sometimes, the wicked will tell us/you things just to confuse us/you.”
  • “You can’t pick and choose what parts of me/them to love.”
  • “You could do anything, if only you dared.”
  • “We each survive in our own way.”
  • “The people you love are just weapons that will be used against you.”
  • “Why do you cry?”
  • “I can survive well enough on my own.”
  • “I’ll always pick you.”
  • “My/your name is a snippet of a half-remembered song.”
  • “Even when this world is a forgotten whisper of dust between the stars, I will love you.”
  • “You remind me of how the world ought to be. What it can be.”
  • “Better to die with my/your chin held high than groveling like a cowering worm.”
The Only Thing That Keeps Me Sane

The clock struck one AM.

Don got up to get his usual mid-shift cup of coffee, Margery was trying to explain to a belligerent drunk that no, he couldn’t have his toddler arrested for removing his diaper and smearing its contents across the TV, but she was happy to send a squad car over, and I was wrapping up a car accident call. It was the kind of call I preferred; an upset, but unharmed driver rear ended at a red light, no injuries, no need for an ambulance, just send some cops to write up a report.

The kind where everyone got to walk away at the end.

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You're His Sister and You're Jealous of Gemma

A/N: PLEASE follow my twitter @h8izzy because i want friends okay i love you guys so much have an amazing night my bbs :) -

Being Harry Styles’ sister was tough as it was, being away from him while he did his career, but it was harder when he never seemed to pay attention to you.
It seemed like Harry was always bothered by y/n, always wanting to hang out with Gemma. Always wanting her to go out to the movies with his friends, or always inviting her to help him with his new album. It was even simply who he chose to sit next to in the car, or who’s side to take in an arguement.
It was always Harry and Gemma, never Harry and Y/n, and it put y/n in a place she never though she would be in before.
It was like a dark cloud, following her wherever she was. With no friends to talk to, no attention to destract herself, y/n was stuck in a world with her and her thoughts. She was 16, expected to be out with friends and having a life of her own, but she was always someone to stand behind the crowd, distance herself because it was rare for her to find someone to chose her before anybody else. She didn’t want to risk being hurt, but that’s all she’s ever felt.
She thought she could hide it by isolating herself in her room and clearing her thoughts in a journal, but it wasn’t until her mum, Anne, had found it on her floor one morning.
Anne never expected her daughter to feel this way, especially because of Harry. She had no idea what else to do, so she made y/n go to therapy five days a week, expecting a change to happen within her daughter quickly. But there was no sign of happiness in her. No sign of anything.
“Hey mum, I think I’m going to get a few drinks with the guys and Gemma” Harry announced, fixing the last bit of his hair in the living room mirror.
Anne sighed, have been putting up with this for too long, and now slowly reaching her breaking point.
“Aren’t you going to ask me where your sister has been?” she asked harshly, slamming the skillet against the stove.
Harry flinched, looking at his mum curiously as he haulted his actions. He hasn’t seen her so harsh in a while now, and whenever it gets too harsh, he knows something serious is going on.
“She’s in her room getting ready, I—“
“I’m talking about y/n, Harold, your other sister!” she screamed.
She couldn’t believe after countless months of y/n not home for several hours a day that Harry would have no concern over where she’s been.
“No. What—what’s wrong? Is she okay?” Harry stammered, feelings his heart pick up speed as his hands became sweaty.
Anne sighed, having no motivation to sit and explain to Harry everything that’s been happening. Gemma was always there to pick y/n up from her appointments, and was always there to make her feel happy, and it made Anne worry how Harry had no idea what was going on. Never even asking.
She had no idea how right y/n was.
“She’s been in therapy for months now, and—and I think you should know why” Anne whispered, feeling tears pile up in her eyes.
Anne gentley placed the journal on the table after getting it from the junk drawer, making Harry stare curiously at the journal.
Taking a seat at the table, Harry cautiously began to read the pages that held more truth than he could ever know.

“March 21.
I just don’t understand it now. Why does everyone look passed me? What did I ever do to be this way? Why do people never notice me? I feel like I’m just here to make a higher population. I feel like I was only born to fill up the emptiness in the world. Do you know how people always say you were born for a reason? I used to believe that. I really did, but maybe that’s the only hope lonley people have. I really wished they’d realize hope doesn’t last very long.”

"March 25.
It’s just another day of being ignored. Another day of being left out. Another day of Harry picking Gemma over me. Another day alone. Another day haunted by my thoughts.”

"March 26.
I wish I felt happy. I want to be happy. I want to live and love and do things I never thought possible. But even the simplest things to me seem to be impossible, making everything so much more complicated. I just want to smile. I just want to feel something different, why is that so hard?”

"April 2.
I miss my brother. I miss Harry comming home and giving me a hug, spinning me in his arms, asking me if we want a movie night. I miss Harry comming home and asking if I need help on anything, if I need advice or if I need to talk about something. I miss Harry. I miss my older brother missing me. But now all he thinks about when he gets home is when Gemma comes home. When Gemma has free time so that he can do adult things without being alone while doing them. When Gemma can tag along to the studio to hear their practices. Does he even remember who I am? Does he even remember my name? I thought family was a place to feel apart of something, a place to feel belonging. I thought blood was thicker than water, so why does he look passed me like everybody else?”

That was enough for Harry. That was all he needed to crash down and understand everything. He could physically feel his heart twist and fall beneath him, completely shattering beneath his feet.
How couldn’t he realize sooner? How couldn’t he have thought about his own sister, his own family when she most needed it? He would always come across it, come across the tears in her eyes, the quivering of her voice, the silence she now has stood behind. But he never thought anything of it, just soome typical teenage things. But it was him, her own brother making her feel like that.
The thought was enough to make him sick. Lost in his own self sadness, lost in the tears streaming down his face, Harry heard a sudden vibration against the kitchen table.
Wipping his tears from his face, Harry reluctantly reached for his mum’s phone, seeing who would be texting her at this time of night.
“My appointment ended. You can pick me up now. I’ll be at the diner across the street, and please don’t cry when you pick me up anymore. It only makes me feel worse”
Harry didn’t even think about telling his mom before he ran straight to his car. No way was he going to pass up picking up his sister, not now. He needed to let her know that he was still there. He wanted her to realize that he was always there for her, even if it didn’t seem like it.
Parking in front of the diner, Harry started to feel nervous. He didn’t want to see what his own sister looked like after a therapy appointment. He didn’t want to see the look she would have once she say him walking into the diner and not her mum.
He shook his head, throwing those thoughts away as he made his way into the diner.
There wasn’t really anybody here, considering it was 9 pm on a school night, so it was easy to find her.
She was sitting alone, stirring her chocolate milkshake around with her straw, showing no intention on drinking it. He has never seen someone so disconnected, so to themselves that they hadn’t even realized there was an outside world.
Taking short strides to her booth, Harry slid in the booth across from her. He saw y/n look up for a split second before returning back to her original gaze, right upon her milkshake.
He wanted to say something to her, he really did, but he just didn’t know what. He didn’t know what was appropriate to say and what wasn’t. He was even scared to look at her for too long, in fear of destroying her.
“Everyone is really concerned about you at home and all. Mum isn’t even herself anymore, barely talking at the dinner table. We just want to know if you’re doing okay” Harry spoke softly, fiddiling with his thumbs.
Y/n nodded, dropping her straw from her hands before sliding out of the booth. She didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t want to know the pain she was causing her mother. She didn’t want her mum to be upset because of her own thoughts. Y/n never though being depressed would cause the people surrounding her to feel the same.
Walking to her brother’s car, y/n pulled open the passenger door and shut it closed, crossing her arms over her chest. She wasn’t going to allow herself to cry, not in front of Harry. She needs to do it alone. She doesn’t want to annoy him or make him think she was pathetic.
Harry climbed into the car shortly after her. He was guessing that she was in no mood to talk, so he had no choice but to drive them back home in silence.
Harry was trying to hold back as many tears as he possibly could. He could have helped her through this. He could have been the one to lift her up instead of pushing her more down. It couldn’t have been that hard, not nearly as much harder as this is.
He wanted to talk to her, reach out to his sister like she should. He just didn’t know how, after all this time, after all of the hurt he’s put on her, it was almost impossible to talk to his sister.
Pulling up to the driveway, y/n was more than happy to get away from Harry and into her room where she can avoid everybody that tries to bother her.
Although a large hand stopped her, making her face her older brother in a series of sobs. She has never seen him cry so hard in her entire life, it was something so foriegn to her.
“I’m so sorry,” Harry choked out, letting her arm go so that he can grip the top of the steering wheel and drop his face into his arms, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Grabbing onto his arm, y/n slowly leaned into a hug, letting out her own strong cries and she held onto him like never before.
Harry forgot what it was like to hug his sister, and it only made him feel worse that he hasn’t done this as much as he should.
“I love you so much, y/n. I’m your older brother, and I promise you that this is how it’s going to feel from now on, okay?”
Y/n nodded, squeezing him harder before whispering a quiet “I’ve missed you.”

Batman Under the Red Hood sentence meme

change pronouns as fit, loooots of trigger warnings ahead
  • “You know, I thought… I thought I’d be the last person you’d ever let them hurt.”
  • “If it had been you that they beat to a bloody pulp, if they had taken you from this world, I would’ve done nothing but search the planet for this pathetic pile of evil, death-worshiping garbage and then send them off to hell!”
  • “You don’t understand. I don’t think you’d ever understood.”
  • “Awwww, so you DO think about me.”
  • “But if I do that, if I allow myself to go down into that place, I’ll never come back.”
  • “I’m talking about THEM, just them. And doing it because… because they took me away from you.”
  • “Is that what you think this is about?”
  • “ I don’t know what clouds your judgement worse, your guilt or your antiquated sense of morality.”
  • “[name], I forgive you for not saving me.”
  • “But why, why on God’s earth …are they still alive?”
  • “Gotta give the kid points”
  • “ They came all the way from the dead to make this shindig happen.”
  • “You’ll be as quiet as possible, or I’ll put one in your lap first.”
  • “Party pooper. No cake for you.”
  • “What hurts more? A? Or B? Forehand? Or backhand?”
  • “A little louder, lamb chop. I think you may have a collapsed lung. That always impedes the oratory.”
  • “Now, that was just rude.”
  • “I suppose I’m going to have to teach you a lesson so you can better follow in his footsteps.”
  • “Nah, I’m just gonna keep beating you with this crowbar.”
  • “You wanna die? There’s easier ways to kill yourself.”
  • “You know, it only hurts when I laugh.”
  • “You said we knew one another. You do seem really familiar.”
  • “No. I’m just something you helped make.”
  • “That’s pretty cryptic… but interesting. Tell me more.”
  • “Who are you working for?”
  • “Lie to me again, and crashing into a wall head-on will be the least painful activity of your evening.”
  • “You look good. Been working out? You could probably use a little sun. Then again, who am I to talk?”
  • “No. It’s going to be a nightmare.”
  • “I’m chatty. It’s part of my charm”
  • “You don’t just do that. That has to be practiced. Learned.”
  • “But they’re locked up, like a lot locked up. Maybe we should go for a visit.”
  • “do you want me to take it down?”
  • “No. This doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change anything at all.”
  • “You’re so much less fun now. All grown up and in your big-kid pants.”
  • “Still, better off than their replacement, right?”
  • “You gonna do it this time?”
  • “do you really think I would go through all that trouble and not make sure you knew it was me?”
  • “I want this person dead. When I say "dead,” I mean seriously dead. Beaten, broken. Their head mounted-on-my-wall kind of dead!“
  • "Understood. We’ll be taking further precautions at every transaction.”
  • “You know what I miss most about running with you? The toys.”
  • “Okay kiddo, I’ve got to go. But it’s been fun though, right?”
  • “Well maybe a smidge more fun for me than you, I’m guessing, since you’re being awful quiet.”
  • “You say you want to be better than me, but it won’t happen. Not like this”
  • “ I’m sorry, that seems to imply that YOU organized this little flambé.”
  • “Please, I can help you. I know what happened.”
  • “Do you remember how they where when I found them?”
  • “Different than [name] in so many ways but still full of potential and power.”  
  • “But I knew, even from the beginning, they were dangerous.”
  • “Then I got hem killed. My partner. My soldier. My fault. I own that. I’ll carry that like everything else.”
  • “They’ve taken everything I’ve ever taught them and turned it on me. It’s a hell of my own making, [name].”
  • “You loved them. They know that. It should be enough.”
  • “You can’t stop crime. That’s what you never understood. I’m controlling it. You wanna rule them by fear, but what do you do with the ones who aren’t afraid?”
  • “I’m doing what you won’t, I’m taking them out.”
  • “It’s too late. You had your chance. And I’m just getting started.”
  • “You shattered his collar bone!”
  • “I didn’t think I had to prop up some pillows before I took him out!”
  • “I’ve got a problem and you are absolutely the person who possesses the gifts to take care of that problem”
  • “I’m gonna need something to wear.”
  • “Don’t be nervous, kid. But if you keep staring at me like that I’m gonna cut your eyes out.”
  • “No! Don’t spoil it, this is better!” “
  • I’m the only one who’s going to get what they want tonight!”
  • “Don’t you just love a happy ending?”
  • “That took me two hours. You wanna see what I get done in a whole evening?”
  • “This wasn’t part of the damn deal, you freak!”
  • “This is what it’s all been about.”
  • “If you want to stop me, you’re going to have to kill me!”
  • “This is turning out even better than I’d hoped!”
  • “Maybe they’re primping.”
  • “This is the best day of my life!”
The different sides of  Jeon Jungkook


Originally posted by squeakjimin

“I’m innocent , you can hug me as we cuddle to sleep on clouds “

Originally posted by jeonsshi

“Please, hang out with me noona~”

Originally posted by vikooks


Originally posted by comfyjimin


Originally posted by theking-or-thekid

“Did you just kissed my cheek??Is it okay if I kiss your cheeks too?”

Originally posted by sunshine-hobi

“ I’m tired…I miss my mom”

Originally posted by salazarstyles

“It’s my first day of high school!!! heeeeee so excited!”

Originally posted by jinkooks

“Stop it, you’re making me blush~”


Originally posted by fyeahbangtaned

“ Hips don’t lie , BABYYYY!!” *shakes his hips like Shakira*

Originally posted by tahyns


Originally posted by parkjimiinssi

“Lets try dancing shamelessly till one of my hyungs facepalms and joins me right after”

Originally posted by edenalieth


Originally posted by theking-or-thekid

“and the haters gonna hate hate hate hate and I’m just gonna shake shake shake shake shake”

Originally posted by orchid-bud

*makes weird faces*

Originally posted by bangtan

*more weird faces*

Originally posted by chocochipkookie1997

*dances frivolously*

Originally posted by yoongiwara

*puts his hands in the same motion as mr.burns  in the simpsons does it*

Originally posted by yoonkooks

*more dancing*

Originally posted by taeguk

*Casually judges his hyungs*

Originally posted by fyeahbangtaned

“Whassup bitch.How ya doing?”

Originally posted by jeonjam

“I got two dicks *raises eyebrows suggestively*

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

*practices how to give birth with jimin cause’ its a normal thing guys do in their spare time*


Originally posted by sehuns-bubblebum

“ Hey there sweet thing, HOW YOU DOING? “

Originally posted by jikookwillruletheworld

*puts his hand down in his pants on national tv*

Originally posted by jayfatuasian

*suggestive stares*

Originally posted by galaxygirlexo

* tries to look like a curvy girl figure*


Originally posted by donewithjeon

“ I will f*ck you up with my gaze till you change your ub” *smirks*

Originally posted by kookie-bts

Originally posted by chimchams

*flying kisses*

Originally posted by theking-or-thekid

*effortlessly sexy*

Originally posted by jeonsshi

“ My hipthrusts will send you to out of this galaxy”

Originally posted by theking-or-thekid

*serious sexy gaze*

Originally posted by spongecakechimchim

“ I’m not your usual f*ckboy. I can f*ck you with my gaze and the work is done. ”

Originally posted by theking-or-thekid

“ I know you want me so bad” *snickers*

Originally posted by eridanianada

*more kisses*

Originally posted by kkuks

  “ Don’t blame the player, blame the game”

Originally posted by jungxook

“I’m a hot International  playboy *smirks*. “

Originally posted by sugutie

*more hipthrusts*

Originally posted by dugyu

“I shall eyef*ck you even more”

Originally posted by jung-koook

Originally posted by forjimin

*sultry sexy gaze*


Originally posted by theking-or-thekid

“What was a girl again?”

Originally posted by tae-kooks

Originally posted by jimin-nim

“ Bruh, how do I reply to a girl?”

Originally posted by bts-we-are-bulletproof

*wild jump of fright*

Originally posted by jung-koook

“uhm…m-my n-name i-is”

Originally posted by jeonjam


Originally posted by taewithkookies

“ Wait what? You said I’ll be talking to a girl,like RN?!!! *DRAMATIC MUSIC*”

Originally posted by jxnhyungs


Originally posted by jeonjam

“ omfg her leg brushed against me. !@#!$!%#@% *PANICS INTERNALLY*”

Originally posted by sugutie


You can request ANYTHING from my blog :) REQUEST BOX IS ALWAYS OPEN !!I’m open to answer anything whether it be ships(CLOSED)/bts reactions to “___”/scenarios/drabbles/ bts fb status/bts text conversation/ bts snapchat AND MORE !!! IM LITTERALLY OPEN TO ANYTHING just please ask me what you want and I’ll make it come true

Follow me @jungkookfortunekookies THANK U

anonymous asked:

how do you deal with feeling stupid because you can't even remember what you were just thinking much less things that have happened or people you've met

Memory issues aren’t your fault. Like any symptom, mental or physical, you just have to manage it as best you can. It’s not your fault you have memory issues, and it’s not a reflection of your intelligence at all. 

I’ll forget my own name. I’ll confidently talk about a memory only to find out it’s incorrect. I’ll confused dreams and memories, I’ll forget what I was texting about just seconds later. It sucks, but if memory issues make you feel bad you have to accept it and move on. All we can do is our best, and we need to remember that dissociative amnesia is not our fault. It’s not your fault and you’re not alone with this. 

ugh do you even know how much i hate those posts that are like ‘harry’s about as observant as a rock how did he even survive lolololol’ bc idk what books u read but harry is actually incredibly observant??? like he’s constantly picking up on people’s emotions through their tone of voice and body language and noticing details that everyone else misses? do u realize how many times in the books he remembers a name or a face or a fact he only came across briefly once before a long long time ago? this child literally grew up to be an elite law enforcement professional on his own merit and u cannot do that without being aware af seriously why is this even a thing

Random Girl (Mature)

note; this imagine does not contain sex scene. however, i have marked the following write up as mature, because it contains sexual consent and involves detailed descriptions of the intercourse itself and other actions that might be considered sexual.

Friday evening. Normally, that was the time when I would get myself ready to go out; clubbing excursion or a house party, maybe even hosted by myself? Who knew. But, oh well, no. Instead I was sat down on a brownish chair in Subway placed at local high street, for what felt like forever now. My not so warm anymore, twelve inch sandwich was placed in front of me as I miserably tried to finish piece of bread for the past half an hour.

I was just after my basketball practice, still in my formal team kit, contemplating about everything and nothing at the same. I could of easily go out with my best friends, but I did not feel like it. I was just really lazy that evening. The truth was, college itself was a nark, trust me, another hour and a half of physical education a.k.a my love named ball, added to my timetable was a nightmare, therefore partying would of get me killed, I believed. So, here I was. Completely alone in a fast-food store, even workers have hidden somewhere, seeing that they most likely won’t be operating any more customers for the following day. I guess people really did go out, like they were suppose to and I was simply a loser. Oh, well.

‘Can you just shut up, Brad? I am honestly sick of you and the things you always say to me. Can’t you just try and stay calm when you want to conversate with me?’ A gentle and at the same time firm voice (if that even make sense to other people, because for me, sure it did) has reached my hearing, making me wake up from whatever little stage I was oddly going through.

I winked a few times, just to get to my own tiredness, turned my head slightly to right, where the sound came from. My glimpse was stuck on a female that have now appeared in the restaurant, so myself was not utterly solo. It was rude to stare. I know. However, out of categorical boredom, this observation made by myself had to be forgiven, I studied.

Her body looked perfectly in them high waisted, dark blue jeans, with a basic, red crop top, showing off her beautiful stomach. I scrolled down, to the pair of white Nike Huaraches, and a golden ankle bracelet, which looked like one I owned myself, that was currently elegantly sat on my wrist. After finishing admiring her outfit, my vision moved onto the top part of her body. I liked her hair, let go freely and naturally. I liked how they looked careless and just were there, without extra effort, for some reason, I enjoyed it.

For me, it felt like ages, waiting for a mysterious girl to show me her face, my fingers tapping on the table. She was calmly standing in front of the counter, just doing what she came her to do.

But she did turn my way, eventually. And it fucking hit. Lust took over my sight, palms all wet as my mouth has almost let a loud moan out, but thankfully strong pressure of teeth on my tongue has paused this action. Damn. Fuck. O-Oh my God. I swallowed hardly, as my jaw clenched, looking at the girl on my right has stopped me in time. Whoever she was, she was just…wow.

Her feet was tapping on the floor, as her nicely shaped fingers with long, red painted fingernails did the same on the work surface. In the other hand, that was placed next to her ear, she was holding a mobile phone. I could tell that she was mad, maybe even furious straight away. Not only by her inattentive, at that point, pose or her small gestures, that suggested her raging mood, but also, by her face expression. The way she chewed the inside of her cheek and blew the air through her nostrils, so intensively that even I could hear it. How her big, gorgeous eyes shut for a bit longer once in a while and her eyebrows wrinkled up, showing that a few more words would of leave her mouth if she was not trying to remain relaxed.

'Bradley, please, can’t we just leave it for till I come back home?’ A beauty said unexpectedly as she sighted deeply, putting a little, LV purse on the counter, getting a rectangle shaped wallet, when a blue card became visible to the surrounding and tapped onto machine to transfer the money. I don’t know who that Bradley dude is, but can he stop making you this upset? You look unhappy, that face deserves a big, big smile.

I was a cloud of thoughts at this point. I mean, this girl. This girl made my heart skip a beat. This girl made me look over at her twice and I am rudely staring ever since. This girl is the most beautiful thing I have ever experienced in my life and all I am doing is looking in her direction. This girl made me shiver, shake, dribble and all sort of things. This girl made my dick hard. And she has not even done anything.

Shit. I’m fucking sick.

'I’m just…I’m just tired of this bullshit-’ She stated which made some kind of unusual feeling go through my stomach. I like the way she says those…those 'curse words’…fuck, why does this turns me on?

'Don’t you think I deserve to be treated just a bit better?’ I licked my lips, watching as she sat down, placing her hands on the table. She wasn’t looking at me. I don’t think she even acknowledged my presence. I did not mind through. This gave me a free hand to look at her and monitor her precious body from the side. And, um, babygirl you do deserve better. 

In fact, I can do you be-…fuck, I so do wanna do you. In many, many ways. Soft, hard, senseless, passionate. All that. I can do it all so fucking nice, you won’t ever get the imagine of my face off your brain.

'Does it give you any sort of, um, comfort to make me feel like shit?’ Her voice raised just a bit as her fist closed into a tight ball alike shape. 

Fuck. Fucking shit. That, this, babygirl. Where should I start with? I can give you so much comfort. So, so, so much of it. I can make you feel so fucking special. So fucking good. And what the fuck? How dare he do you like this? You do deserve all the appreciation and love going. Can I beat the fuck out of him? swear to God, I can finish him off, this angers me, you know? He fucking angers me. I know I don’t know him, but do I look like I give a fuck?

I would probably say so much more to myself (because, I could truly see myself going on) but a small cough leaving her mouth woke me up. I looked down on myself, as I felt uncomfortable around my private area, in my shorts. A silent curse word left my mouth as a massive bulge became visible to myself. My hand reached for a sandwich as I bite a big piece, hoping this can bring me to reality, at least in the smallest percentage.

I could not understand this whole, sudden sensation. In my lifetime, I have had so many girls. So many beautiful women doing crazy things just to pleasure me. And then this happens?

When you get drunk, if you can recall ever feeling this way, you get that sensitive, exultant feeling all over your skin? That’s how it feels down there. Prickling on the back of my neck and base of my spine. My dick going all crazy and hard. Ugh, it is so fucking difficult to describe. But this feeling, the feeling of arousal, that hits it. Especially on the top. And my balls. Yeah, over there. It’s insane. A man just always feel so weak and vulnerable in those moments. You cannot even understand. If me begging her for sex would work, bro I would of do that gladly.

'I do love you, you know that. You are my best friend since we were little, but c'mon. You go crazy everytime you, you know, snort it. I just, I cannot cooperate with you anymore.’ A quit voice have, once again, hit my ears, therefore (obviously), I could not just ignore it. I wouldn’t want to. I had to investigate her words in my head once again. 

So, that Bradley dude of yours, yeah? He is not your little boy toy, right? Okay, fair enough. That is good. This satisfies me. But, what is he doing? I don’t understand. Is he being aggressive when he does cocaine? Meth? Oh, shit, heroin? Going that hard with that junk? But, anyways, if I could just help you out, trust me, I would. I just think he doesn’t care, that’s why he does what he does. And in that case, there is very little you can do. But I could help. I mean, I could try, don’t you think?

'Yeah, I don’t even know anymore. I’m just in Subway and I’m going back to my place. If you want to come over, do that. No one is at home and I hate being alone. And Juliet is gone for the weekend, so you are my only hope. The girls went out partying, and-’ Was all that I could hear (and all I paid attention to) before her body stood up, her hand taking all of belonging with herself. 

Guess who wants to come over? Justin wanna come over, love. In fact, I would make you feel better. You wouldn’t be lonely. Trust me, I know how to make little ones like you scream. Oh, how would I love to be able to do that all to you. Fuck you like a slut. Whore. Fuck you senseless. Make you beg for my cock when I stop penetrating you just to make you eager. Finger you just to tease you and prepare you for my huge length. Make you squirt all over my face when I eat you up. You would feel the things you never even dreamed of experiencing. I’m so fucking good, babygirl. I would fuck you up. I could make your pussy cum so many time, you would not be able to remember your own fucking name…God, I am definitely sick.

I sighted, not happy at the fact she will soon be gone and I will have nothing pleasant to look at. My eyes rolled with annoyance, fixing myself on the chair as I made a slight sound with the legs of the furniture I was sat on, which caused a beauty to look over at me. My mouth dropped down in shock, staring at her two eyeballs. Her eyes, my God.  They were so beautiful. So bright, so adorable. So pure. I cannot believe I am disrespecting that cute self with my dirty thought. She is so clueless.

Little gorgeous sent me a beautiful, soft smile which I responded to with exact same thing and came back to my food just for a second, so she wouldn’t find me specious. But, my eyes did come back on her, watching that goodly butt, as she made her way out, moving her hips in the rhythm. 

Oh, what would I do to that pretty bum of yours, babygirl. Do you like being spanked? Well, it doesn’t really matter anyway, 'cuz I will make you like it. Mmm, what about slapping that beautiful ass as I fuck the life out of you? It will get a bit rough, but you will like it. I don’t know what you are really like, what makes you go crazy, but me will make you naughty. And needy. So you can need me like I need you. Corners of my lips have moved up, showing a little smirk on my face as I then looked back at my pants.

I was pretty sure that if I stared touching myself in the middle of my thoughts, by now I would be loaded with sperm all over my hands. My thoughts were finally clearing up as I relaxed myself, just like I would do after every, decent orgasm.

Random girl at Subway on Friday evening made me this. Made me a mess. And I loved it. I didn’t want and I didn’t need to understand my feelings towards the whole 'incident’. Nor the fact that in my head I was having a full on monologue. It was all a very, very intense experience for me.

I was not a desperate boy. I got laid. Quite a lot actually. It was different this time through. I truly found myself relating to this girl. Just the way she showed interest in whoever she was on the phone to. Also the frustration, irritation. I felt like I get it. I said a lot, a lot of indecent lot to myself, but I felt like I would love to just be a good guy to her. Which also made me really concerned, as I did never, I repeat never want to give out special treatment to nobody.

No words to describe my state came to my mind I just prayed to God for my sake and sake of that poor, not knowing girl that our paths would never cross again, because I would not be able to stop myself from coming over to her. And once I would, I could get her fucked up for life.

anonymous asked:

Do you know where I can read the fanfiction of Bulma and Vegeta named Stained Scarlet

You can’t find it anymore!

I remember that fanfic and how unusual its take on Vegeta’s personality was. I was actually following it a bit, because I found it interesting even though it was a bit OOC for Vegeta.

I recently checked out the AO3 link and the work was gone, I also checked on the author’s profile and AO3 tells me it didn’t exist, so it looks like this person mysteriously removed all of her work from AO3. I don’t know why, it seems like such a strange thing to do.

Now we’ll never know how it ended!


Originally posted by lilium

Late night Lexark smut

The car windows had become completely foggy. A muffled moan echoed from the cement walls of the garage. Elyza’s head rolled back against the smooth leather of the back seat. Thankfully the car they had found had a huge backseat and Elyza could lay down completely on the seat.

Alicia straddled her and moved her hips roughly against Elyza. The blonde’s eyes rolled up as another moan left her throat.

Her hands went to Alicia’s hips, her fingernails dig into Alicia’s bare skin. She was rewarded with a loud hiss from her girl.

Elyza reached up and took one of Alicia’s breasts in her hand. She squeezed and kneaded it while Alicia continued to grind on top of her. Elyza’s thumb grazed Alicia’s sensitive nipple. Alicia made a sound somewhere between a groan and hiccup as Elyza felt her get even more wet.

Alicia fell forward into a heated kiss. Elyza’s free hand snaking around to grab Alicia’s ass. Even though Alicia had only been grinding on her Elyza could feel her climax building in the pit of her stomach.

“How do you get me so worked up so fast?” Elyza breathed as Alicia’s sucked on her pulse point and Elyza know she’d have a dark purple love bite to remember this night.

“Sometimes I just walk in the room and next thing I know you have me pinned against a wall screaming your name. You tell me.” Alicia whisper before once again sucking on Elyza’s neck.

“You are like my own drug that I just can’t seem to get enough of.” Elyza spoke through moans and pants. She thrust her hips up frantically meeting Alicia’s movements. “I’m close.” Elyza whimpered, Alicia now using her own thumb on Elyza’s nipples.

“Come for me babe.” Alicia’s voice was low and husky sane whispered those sensual words into Elyza’s ear. Elyza felt the waves begin to crash over her and she screamed out Alicia’s name. The only woman who had made her climax four times in one go.

15 Years

// Warning this story is going to break your heart, so I hope you have tissues next to you. And Yoosung is 17 years old from the starting. Enjoy. //

I want to tell you how I love you in poetry
I’ve been doing so for fifteen years
I haven't received a reply from you yet
haven't received a reply from you yet

Yoosung was in his dorm room, he had finished up playing LOLOL but now he was writing a letter to ____. Because he hasn’t heard from them in a long time, but he has fallen in love with them for so long and he wanted to tell them in poetry. He get some help from Zen, since he was the romantic expert when it came to this. He smiles down at the letter he was making, putting his whole heart and soul into it.

The 1st year I wrote you a letter everyday
So desperately I wrote down everything I had to say
I licked each stamp with confidence I’d never give up
Determined to give you all of my heart’s saliva.

The first year of college, Yoosung would always write ____ a letter right after class, he would still play LOLOL but not as often as he used to. His mind just wanted to show you how much he loved you, so he kept writing letters to you. And once he was down he would lick the stamp with much detention, to be sure you understand how much he loved you.

The 2nd year, I was still as reckless as could be
My house had caught a blaze but it still didn’t bother me
And even without noticing, my clothes caught fire too
And by the time I saw it, I was pretty much nude.

By the 2nd year of college, Yoosung was still writing letters to you. He slowly stop playing LOLOL, that’s for sure, which came to a surprise to everyone. The first time he try to stop he didn’t make it, but this time he did. He even got to distracted by the love he shared for you, that he had forgot the food he was making in the kitchen, and it started to burn. But he was to deep into the letter that he didn’t notice at all, and by the time he finished the letter, the food was already turned to ash.

The 3rd year I had calmed down, I becoming more mature
Although I felt I’d reached the limits of my literature
I publicized my mixi journal for all to see
Though My mixi maxed out the counter very quickly

By the 3rd year of college, Yoosung had passed all his classes with flying colors, and became more mature. He stopped playing LOLOL because he was so focused on writing letters to you. But he felt he had written good enough amount. But after a while he wonder how others would like his poems. He then put up his poems of you online for all to see, but it crushed his computer with how much he put up.

The 4th year, I decided to submit a brochure
Branching out into social issues was quite an allure
My best amount of poems, I happily released
I laughed at workers as I quit, my dream will not cease

By the 4th year, Yoosung had sent out a book filled with his poems, and had it published. He was making more money and helping out a lot of people, but it took up to much time that he quit his dream job. He came home soon after and start writing poems again just for ____.

I want to tell you how I love you in poetry
I’ve been doing so for fifteen years
I haven't received a reply from you yet
haven't received a reply from you yet

The 5th year, I was a poetry professional
I captivated women of many ages as well
But since I was so earnest to stay faithful to you
Their appeal was zero, they were just destined to lose

The 5th year, Yoosung was a famous poetry. He had captivated the hearts of women from many ages, from all around the world. He was signing his books and receiving gifts from his fans. There were so many gifts that the gifts had piled up all behind him while he was signing books that he owned. He was so happy with how big he has gotten. Even his friends from the RFA congratulate him and celebrated. But the fans that show up with so much love for him, could never compare to you, his heart was always faithful to you.

The 6th year,  I had worked to hard, my body ruined
The number of the things I wrote were over 2000
Every bone was broken, black and blue I had been
All organs had been damaged by my hectic routine

By the 6th year, Yoosung had gotten into an accident, all his fame had been lost after a long while, not being able to write anymore. Since a lot of his bones were broken, some even thought it was a surprise he even made it out alive. While in the hospital he just kept writing poems to you, even if his bones were broken and his organs damaged, he’ll still write to you.

The 7th year, I found that I was in perfect form
Comparing thee to things that were nothing of the norm
Perhaps you’re really intense like extreme ironing
Perhaps you’re like an inner space compound just floating

By the 7th year, Yoosung had fully healed, he was out of the hospital and living in his own apartment. Looking over all the poems he wrote for you. And how he can now improve in making better ones for you. He thinks over all the things that you might like, and starts comparing things to you.

The 8th year rolled around and u had not changed one bit
Comparing thee to everything, anything that fits.
Perhaps you’re like winning the 16 sumo tournaments
Or an AMPA glutamine receptor transmit

By the 8th year, Yoosung hadn’t changed one bit. He kept thinking about all the things you might like and starts making more poems and sending them off to you. He would even ask Seven for some help on a few things, but he would end up being tricked again. But after all that he kept writing more and more letters to you.

I want to tell you how I love you in poetry
I’ve been doing so for fifteen years
I haven't received a reply from you yet
haven't received a reply from you yet

The 9th year,  I was injured in a freak accident
My head suffered the most, memories soon did descend
Even though I couldn’t even remember my own name
I still remembered you and my feelings were the same

By the 9th year, Yoosung was in a freak accident. He had been in a car crash with Jumin, with Jumin at the wheel, of course he would had crashed, but they didn’t think it would be that badly. Yoosung was the only one hurt pretty badly, and Jumin felt bad, he didn’t get hurt because he had jumped out of the car before the crash, so he paid for the hospital feeds. All the members of the RFA came to visit Yoosung, but Yoosung didn’t remember them at all. He didn’t even remember his own name, but the one thing he did remember was how he felt about you. He feelings never changed about you, and he still remember your laugh and your smile, he even remember the good and bad times that you two shared.

The 10th year passed right by me into the 11th year
My memories didn’t return, my mind still wasn’t clear
All I knew was I loved you, those feelings will not die
The only thing I wanted from you was a reply

By the 10th year, the 11th year had come so fast. It’s been so long that Yoosung didn’t even noticed that the years went by. He looks out of the window, the floor covered in letters that he wrote all for you. All of them was meant for you, but he forgot to send them off, his memories still hadn’t returned, his mind still wasn’t clear. All he would see was a big blanket of fog that wouldn’t disappear. All he ever wanted was a reply back from you, he waited every year just to here back from you.

The 12th year to the 13th, nothing came back to me
It seemed as though I’d never recover my memories
The fact that I still loved you kept me from going mad
Those feelings deep inside for you were all that I had

By the 12th year came the 13th year, it seemed that Yoosung wasn’t getting any letters from you once again. The doctor even told him that he might never recover his memories so he just gave up on them. All the RFA members had helped him to get his memories back. But it still seems like he was missing something big, and he wanted to remember it. He was written more letters for you each and every day, and just from writing letters to you, kept him from going mad. As the days go by more and more letters for you were laying on the floor, he’s waiting for so long to hear from you.

The 14th year arrived, and they still hasn’t come back
Every day was so frightening, my mind only left pitch black
I desperately wanted to see your face again
Just wanted to speak with you, oh now will that happen?

By the 14th year, no letters came back. While every day went by Yoosung got scared, it kept on getting harder for him to live on. But remembering your sweet smile kept him moving forward. But still he was so sad, he wonder will he ever hear from you.

The 15th year, my memories finally came to me
I remember so suddenly, I couldn’t stop crying
Because now I had recalled as I watched my tears flow
That you had passed away and left me 15 years ago

By the 15th year in the middle of summer, Yoosung got his memories back. But, it all came so suddenly the things that he recalled. He falls down onto the ground, crying like their was no tomorrow. He drops the letter that he was meant to sent to you, he just remember that you had died and left him 15 years ago. He cries and cries some more, walling as he now knows, those letters can never each you for you had gone to heaven.

I want to tell you how I love you in poetry
If I piled them up, will they maybe reach you one day?
In your former room, I’m keeping them all
Watching the words of my love growing tall

After realizing after so long, he grabs all the letters he had left and starts putting them in your new room. The room he had already made for you, that he had kept clean just for you, to be in one day. He would keep writing poems for you, so he can watch his words grow for you each day. Knowing that you wouldn’t come back to him, but mmaybein another life you would.

I know that right now I can’t see you anymore
And yet I still love you and I always will
I thought that maybe we could meet here then
Yet you keep disappearing once again.
I want to tell you how I love you in poetry
I’ve been writing you letters for 16 years
I haven't received a reply from you yet
haven't received a reply from you yet

acamaeda  asked:

There is a strong possibility that this isn't the ending. Hussie said he'd be making a "thing resembling an epilogue", which could be basically anything that comes after "The end", regardless of content. Even if Hussie's done, though, the fandom isn't. Homestuck: Act Omega is a project to create a possible ending for Homestuck, from the current "ending" point. We could definitely use someone like you to help figure out what the plot should be. The official blog is hsactomega on Tumblr.

I definitely respect the work you all are doing, and am both flattered and nodding with approval that you’re using a good number of my Aspect theories and such as a guide. But…

Here’s the thing.

I fell in love with Andrew’s vision. With the inexhaustible effort and love he put into Homestuck, with events and developments that were (usually) more satisfying than anything I expected beforehand. And even if the ending execution of it lacked so many answers, and felt so unsatisfying, it feels like it’d be the height of arrogance to imagine I could do better, just because I put my thumb on a decently foreshadowed story idea or two.

You, as well as some of the people who’ve worked with you, have gotten extremely close to calling this project “a ‘real’ ending for Homestuck”, and even if that’s not what you meant – even if it was just a little of our collective bitterness leaking through, and you meant something closer to how you corrected yourself – it still makes me extremely uncomfortable to put my name anywhere near such a project.  Especially with my attitude so much closer to what wtfihs said.  :(

However, I do recognize the substantial merit in such a project. I realize that Andrew might have signaled the desire for something like this loud and clear, with his possibly-literal newspost hint “I will leave you to draw your own conclusions”. I remember how upon the advent of Paradox Space, Andrew made these telling comments:

As I work on finishing the story, I tend to think a lot about where Homestuck as a creative property goes from here. It’s hard to ignore the fact that it has turned into something much bigger than just a long, crazy story on the internet. It has a lot of fans, and there’s a whole culture surrounding it. Friendships have been made, lives have been changed, or so people tell me. Those who like HS are extremely fond of the characters, yet those characters are trapped - “stuck” if you will - inside a very particular narrative, which itself has been at the mercy of my ability to produce it. So when I think about the future of Homestuck, I envision projects which liberate the things people love about it from the story itself, and most importantly, from my intensive personal effort.

So this website [ParadoxSpace] is the first major step in that direction.

It’s not just possible, but when paired with the unstuck and unbound theories highlighting the literal death of the author and its implications, actually likely that Andrew intended the ending of Homestuck to bring about something EXACTLY like this, like your project and any competing projects we’ll eventually see. Projects that liberate characters whose souls – their characters and individual uniqueness, now immortal thanks to this story – from the story itself, and allow us to draw them in all the directions we wish at once.

I’m, well…

I’m not going to rule out consulting for your project a little eventually? But first, I’ll need to wait a bit for some more proof that this project is intended to build upon Andrew’s work as he intended, in a sense, rather than to bitterly show him up. I know you’ve clarified your intentions, and I believe you for the most part, but wtfihs summed up a certain intense humility I feel that has always kept me from arguing that ANYTHING I’ve theorized – theories which I’ve specifically argued as possibilities for Andrew’s story-woven intent, rather than wish-it-were-true fantasies – would have been “better” than whatever actually developed. That weird humility and slavish devotion to the author has been deeply rooted in me for years and years, maybe before I saw Andrew’s work, even. The cautionary, unhealthily-strict lectures that part of me gives the rest of me aren’t going to be quieted easily. It’s just too much of a part of who I am.

Not that I’m going to judge others for feeling differently! I’m just kind of weird that way.

(It doesn’t help that the ending of Homestuck has left me a little too sore to really think about Homestuck much, so I’ve been heavily avoiding reading up on things like your project (for my own mood’s sake), and that’s not likely to heal for a little while… I’ll probably immerse myself in Overwatch and Dark Souls 3 for another week or two.)

So, I’ve gotta apologize that my ego doesn’t let me participate in the Homestuck: Act Omega project for the moment. But for anyone else motivated by Andrew’s challenge to draw your own conclusions – rather than bitterness – I’d heavily encourage you to take a look at the Act Omega project here. I haven’t even clicked the link; that’s how painful thinking about Homestuck and all the unanswered questions feels right now for me. But some of you aren’t as sore, and are eagerly checking my blog for more answers, more we can milk out of this cool story we’re all fans of. I think that given how this meshes with what Andrew’s hinted to be his vision, checking this sort of thing out may be pretty worthwhile for y’all.

EDIT: I clicked the link at least tentatively, and it looks like you’re making a concerted effort to call this a loving, faithful fan continuation rather than some sort of “real ending”. I’m glad to see that.  :D

Study Partner. Calum smut.

Pairing: Calum/reader

Request: Yes! ‘i have major Calum feels rn, could you guys make a longish smut where like um we have to do a project and like the reader doesn’t like him and idk. Maybe some visuals? But like could it be like he eats the reader out, she gives a blow-job or hand-job, and then idk they go all the way?! Oh and I love you guys so much :)’

A/N: I know, this is long i changed it to them having sex in instead of foreplay. ENJOY!


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anonymous asked:

I'm sorry that any racist white people even exist and i feel horible for what they do.. but stuff like "this is what white people do" only fuels it. Now i feel ashamed to be white and that's fucked up as well.. please don't reblog stuff like that

that whole “i feel ashamed to be white” sounds like a you problem. i can reblog thousands upon thousands of posts like that if i choose too, just like YOU choose to be offended by it. it has nothing to do with you unless your name is on it

so remember that before telling me how to run my own blog. thanks