mother fail

Imagine that you have a boyfriend and although you haven’t dated for very long time, you are already slightly discussing getting married. Around that time your mother, who’s not aware that you have a boyfriend, decides it’s time to tell you that you are to be married prince Loki. Enraged and disappointed, you and your boyfriend decide to run away together. Your attempt fails however and to prevent such thing from happening again, you are moved to the palace to live there until your planned wedding with Loki. You are constantly rebelling against him and try to escape on numerous times, but Loki always catches you. He deeply enjoys your fierce temper and just looks at you with a smirk when you scream at him or try to kick him out of your room.

things my mother taught me:
my skin is winterkin and my blood is thick with hard-earned brilliance; my bones are diamonds trapped in human form and my heritage whispers to me every night when the sky turns graphite gray.
the things she failed to tell me:
your throat will clog with your own darkness and you will choke on your own power and you will die at the hand of a sunlit goddess the shape of your heart. she carries your death tucked beneath her blouse and that will be the only time you will allow someone to hold your life in their hands. and you will give it to her willingly just like everything else; just like the moon eventually steps aside to let the sun shine. her light will stay with you until the very end and you will thank her with blood-stained lips for she will teach you the meaning of true love, how it claws and rips at you like a hawk digging into the soft flesh of your galloping heart. love, my mother failed to tell me, is warm fingers and liquid sunlight; it’s stubborn fists and naked cheeks and hair the color of snow and tears.

too bad, i think, that it’s just one dying breath in the space of eternity.

—  stay in the shadows where it’s safe / aleksander
The Signs As My Little Pony Characters

Aries: Princess Luna

Taurus: Applejack

Gemini: Princess Celestia

Cancer: Apple Bloom

Leo: Pinkie Pie

Virgo: Fluttershy

Libra: Sweetie Belle

Scorpio: Rarity

Sagittarius: Twilight Sparkle

Capricorn: Princess Cadance

Aquarius: Rainbow Dash

Pisces: Spike

memories 01. i don’t know if this is reality or a dream.

he grips the railing, metal kissing his bruises bittersweet. he stops. 


he looks off, sharp eyes gauging  hesitance in jin’s soft muted gaze, the warmth of his brown eyes soon replaced by film and hard glass, and it sets him back on course.


taehyung closes his eyes and leans forward, the adrenaline in his chest relieved by the sudden weightlessness caught between his heels. he inhales the pinks and oranges of the sky, the waning sun caught between his lips, and for very first time, he soars. he soars far above the ground, above the grass, above jin, and far beyond the dredges of reality he’d been grounded to for so long (and for much too long). and he keeps soaring, suspended in the silence of his chaotic headspace, soaring even farther, even as gravity tugs down his sleeves and begs at his feet.

jin watches, head booming with applause and excitement. the voices holler and cheer, ghosting whispers in his ears, knowing too well of their fixation towards the descending figure before him, as they clap-!  whoop-!  scream–!

but taehyung hears nothing. he doesn’t hear the chorus of gasps when he falls, he doesn’t hear the hurrahs, the satisfaction of having a full audience. he can only sense. sense a blank stare watching him through false mirrors and still windows. sense the impending fruit of his fall. he can sense gravity dragging plastic and glass from shaking hands to shatter on concrete as it drags him whole into the mouth of the tide, pulling jin and his illusions to drown with him.

to taehyung, the world is quiet.

let’s be        
             he smiles.        
                               young forever.

( awake!au by @caramoccii |  memories:
00. 01. )

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To my future daughter,                                                                                                              
 I’m sorry for all the hurt the world will inflict on you.
I wish I could protect you,
But I can’t.                                                                                                                           
Instead, I will teach you what my mother failed to teach me.                                                                                                                                   
  i. You are more than your body.
The world will tell you, you are nothing but lips and curves.
Only thigh gaps and soft brown waves of hair.
They are wrong, baby.
There are universes in your eyelashes,
Worlds caved into your ribs.
You are entirely too big for your body, for this world.
Your world is held together by skin and bones, but you are more than the stitching at your seams.
You are wonder.
And grace.
And beauty, all in one.                                                                                                                           
  ii. The world is at your service.
Never let anyone tell you you cannot be anything you want.
Honey, you might not be able to be everything,
But you sure hell can be something.
Be an astronaut, if you want to see what the world is like away from all the noise.
Be a doctor, if you want to know what its like to hold a beating heart in your hand.
Be a teacher, if you want to see true wonder in those around you.
Be all of it or none of it.
The world will be what you make it.
And you can make it how you want.                                                                                                              
 iii. Please don’t resent me for when I try to protect you
I wish my mother had taught me to thicken my skin,
To hold my breath around bullies
And not let them see me bleed.
I wish I’d been taught tough love.
I walked down hallways with a hood of slurs covering me, tears burning acid on my cheeks.
Instead, I was taught unconditional love, which is great but it won’t help.
Not when it really matters.
It won’t prevent the scratches you draw across your arms when times get tough.
The blood drawn will heal with kisses, slowly, but they will still bleed.                                                                                                              
 iv. Befriend the outsider.
Because, my darling, we are all the outsiders, some are just outsiders together.
The girl with the pink hair has a story behind her eyes as well as her tattoos.
Take time to listen to it.
It might shift your world a little bit.
The boy with the acne always running, running, running.
He might be running from more than his problems.
Maybe his mind, maybe the love he doesn’t know how to show.
He might let you run with him, if you ask.                                                                                                              
 v. They’re going to leave you, whoever they are.
A friend, a lover, a companion.
They will say they won’t - but they will.
And that’s okay.
Your heart will wither when the door slams on his way out.
Tears stream down your face when another message remains unanswered.
That’s okay too. It will all be okay.
Not at first, but eventually.
Because we are all on our own journey and maybe yours don’t intersect anymore.
Life is big and messy but sometimes it’s not big enough for all of us.                                                                                                                           
So, do it all.
Be tall with short hair.
Short with purple hair.
Loud with a small voice. 
Small with a big heart.
Be anything you want, baby.
Be it all.                                                                                                                           
Because this world is yours.
And what anyone else says doesn’t matter.
And you are made, grown and built to conquer it.
—  To My Future Daughter (For The Road)
Poe Dameron Imagine

(Gif by onscreenkisses) (Sorry I couldn’t find a great gif for this one)

Requested by anon.

Summary: Poe comes home from a mission at night, watching his wife and baby sleep.

Word Count: 607

Warnings: None

I’m still accepting requests, but I will be gone for about a week for a class trip where I won’t have much access to wifi. If you send in a request, it might take a little longer for me to put out!

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Not Entirely Make-Believe

Request: “Could you please write a reader x Cedric where the Reader needs a fake boyfriend to present to her parents and Cedric volunteers (but she is actually in love with him). Then soon afterwards someone asks the Reader on a real date and she says yes because she was convinced that everything with Cedric was fake but when he finds out he gets extremely protective and jealous? Thanks ^^ Love your stuff! 💙”

Pairing: Cedric Diggory x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: this is short n shitty lol enjoy

Originally posted by cedricdiggoryfans

Before anyone could voice their own reactions to the letter you had just read out, you pulled your wand out, casting a quick inferno spell and watching it burn to a crisp. Your head fell into your hands as the embers drifted to the floor, the ashes blowing away without a trace. Cedric popped his head down beside you, pulling your hair away from your face as you massaged your temples.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He cooed, placing a comforting hand on your back. You had to fight the urge to hum in content as he rubbed.

“Yeah,” your other friend chimed in, “I’m sure the wedding won’t be that bad. You’re overreacting.”

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I’m back with another rushed hack…

 Connor and Pierre Bellec would never get along.

  1.  One thinks peace with Templars is good, the other…not so much. Bellec hated that Arno tried to be with Elise, Connor would have approved and would have the marriage arranged himself! 
  2. Bellec even used Connor’s work to justify burning the French Assassins to the ground to restart everything, which would even piss him off to beyond existence. 

Therefore, he will be new dad now. 

Hot Heads (Rocket Raccoon)

word count: 1, 671

request: Do you write for Rocket? If si could I request an imagine of him? I don’t care about the plot, I just want to read something with him, please


request: Can you do a Rocket x Reader just as crazy as him

requested by: anons

a/n: Continuing the gotg vol. 2 inspired fics. I missed writing for marvel 😩. Reader isn’t as crazy as Rocket, but almost. A part two might even make reader crazier than him.

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Kara’s Necklace

I’ve been thinking about Kara’s giving of her mother’s necklace to Mon-El since I read the spoiler on Sunday, and I think I’ve wrapped my head around something that makes it a lot less… terrible.

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Those Who Hunt Their Own

Originally posted by iwillalwayschooseyou

(A/N: Just a story idea going my head, not sure how I feel about this.)

 Merciful wasn’t a word normally in Damon’s dictionary. Yet as he stared down at you, a tiny frightened girl in the backseat, Damon couldn’t bring himself to harm you. He reached out for you only to recieve a pencil through the hand. Luckily for you, the pain of it was overshadowed by shock. Then again… could he really be surprised?  

   You were child of a hunter. One who just attempted to kill him. “If you’re trying to kill me, you’ll have to do better than that.” Damon said, calm.  

     He bit back the comment about her mother failing to do the same. Kindness was another trait not normally displayed by him. Even when Damon faked being nice, he was still a sarcastic asshole. “You can’t come in!” You cried. “You are not allowed in!“

    Damon shook his head. “It doesn’t really work like that kid. Cars are fair game. Didn’t your mom teach you that?”  

  You responded by throwing a handful of markers at him. Your little face scrunched up in a mixture of fury, fear and pain. “Obviously, she didn’t teach you not to throw things at others.” Damon sighed.  

  “You’re bad! You eat people like the big bad vampire in Red Riding Hunter .” You sniffed indignantly.  

    “Well, I can’t argue with you there, but seriously? The big bad vampire and Red Riding Hunter? You hunters can’t be more original?” Damon mused.

   “I’m not scared of you! You’re just a-a bully.” You snapped, little fist shaking in determination.

   Damon couldn’t help, but smirk at your valor. He had admit you were quite impressive for a little thing. “No you aren’t ” Damon replied. His hands cupped your chin, forcing you to look at him. “And you’ll never be.”  

    Merciful and kindness may not be in his dictionary, but revenge definitely was. And what would be a better revenge than to raise a vampire hunter that hunted their own instead?  

RULES: Make your own aesthetics based on your personality and interests using ONLY images saved on your device. You cannot browse or download images before you do this.

Tagged by @manawhaat​ <3 You’re amazing, and I adore you tagging me in this! It was fun. It’s been a hot sec since i’ve gotten it, but finally moved time around to do somethin with it. ENJOY!

Tagging: (its been awhile, so if you did this ignore, if you haven’t, feel free! and anyone else that see’s this and does it, tag me!! I’d love to see them :D) @butiaintgonnaloveem@helvonasche@leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid@madamelibrarian@littlegreenplasticsoldier@deandoesthingstome@blushingsamgirl@spectaculacular-sammy

Every Now and Then I Fall Apart

A fic I posted on AO3 about a month ago before I had a tumblr

Fandom/Pairing: Batman-JayTim

Rating: T

Length: 1995 Words

The first time Tim Drake cries over Jason Todd, Jason doesn’t know about it. Jason doesn’t know because he’s dead.

Tim Drake stands unseen in the back watching Jason’s casket lower into the ground and remembers. Remembers photographing Jason on his first night out as Robin. Remembers how he could tell this was a new Robin because he moved differently from Dick Grayson. Where his flips weren’t nearly as graceful as his predecessor, his punches were much more powerful.

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