my first attempt at something like this

I have a theory..

A while back, during book 3, I came up with a theory, but since it was still pretty early into the Freshman/Sophomore series, it just looked like a coincidence I think not, but now that we’ve got 5 books, I’m starting to notice a pattern, and I can’t be the only one.

On the cover of book 1, we have Chris and MC. On the cover of book 2, we have MC by herself. On the cover of book 3, we have Kaitlyn and MC. Book 4 doesn’t matter right now cuz it was just an interlude. On the cover of book 5, we have Zig and MC.

I don’t think anyone has forgotten the cringeworthy “dispute” between Chris, Becca and our MC. Putting everything aside, we all know Chris is the one MC had the most trouble with in book 1.

Initially, I thought James was on the cover of book 2, why? idk, may have had something to do with that Christmas special. And since I thought it was James on the cover of book 2, I also thought James was the one MC had the most trouble with. My MC was dating James so therefor his storyline was more present and interesting to me lmao. But I still clearly remember MC getting blamed by Kaitlyn for outing herself. Tbh I don’t quite remember why Chris and MC were fighting but it happened.

I’m sure we can all still remember the fights with Kaitlyn and her band in book 3. Like I don’t even need to explain this one, do I?

Like I mentioned above, book 4 doesn’t really matter, as it was just an interlude.

Now, book 5, there Zig and MC. Every time a LI was featured on the cover, MC’s relationship/friendship was tested to the point of breaking and to the point of me hating them but I digress. Taking everything said above into consideration, I fear for whatever is coming for Zig and MC.


Bless my wonderful Owari no Seraph Amino family. We were busy talking about OnS as usual; more specifically, the physically appealing demons like Gekkoin and Raimeiki, when I threw the glorious idea of Demon Urd in there.

Promptly, I was asked to draw this idea and agreed to sketch a demon version for the most beautiful vampire there ever was and will be.

The clothes were the hardest choice. At first I wanted to go with something tight, black leather or latex to be exact, but simply decided against it because Gekkoin already rocks that look perfectly. Besides, the edgy look does not suit him that much.

Then I thought about something more ancient since he is a very old vampire after all, and went with the fashion of ancient Greece. This idea got scrapped as well because there was too much fabric for my liking. I mean, a demon could probably make use of a more revealing oufit after all. Just look at Asuramaru’s not so subtle attempt to lure people in with his legs! The slit in his robe is very noticeable.

Wanting to add some golden accessories and see through robes, I settled onto a more egyptian styled look with rubies adorning the golden rings.  The idea of an egyptian look for him was also slightly inspired by @hanayakani‘s AU. I was browsing through their gallery a couple of weeks ago and was simply enthralled by their beautiful work. It made me want to try drawing a picture with very detailed adornments for once as well, and this was the perfect opportunity to do so.

 He is wearing shackles due to the demon curse having ensnared him, otherwise they would be missing altogether. His long, slender horns are adorned with various rings and delicate chains as well to underline his sheer elegance. A see through white robe is barely covering the exposed chest, contrasting the tanned skin, while sharp eyes the colour of glistening jewels seem to pierce his prey. One thing I have to add though: I have not researched any kind of Egyptian fashian beforehand, meaning the style is probably completely off and doesn’t fit any era at all. Oh well.

Yes, I will continue this at one point; mostly because one member of my Amino family currently role-plays as Demon Urd and needs a better profile picture than this shaky mess.

Puppy Love Pt.10


I’m not going to deny that I like Owen, I always have; ever since we first met, actually. But I really liked Ryan. I also don’t think Owen seemed very interested in me after our failed attempt at hooking up, because he never made any further advancement after it. Maybe he was afraid of the repercussions or something, I don’t know, but I gave up on that venture once I realised he obviously wasn’t interested. Clearly my heart hadn’t given up on that venture.

The more platonic I became with Owen, the more intimate I became with Ryan. And that arrangement seemed to work out okay, up until I met Becca. My feelings about that were as confusing as the location of my prescription pad.

Owen started dating this doctor two weeks ago, soon after he stopped coming over so much. A trauma surgeon like him, but I hated her; she was so perky and two dimensional. I wasn’t jealous or anything. Hey, I said I wasn’t jealous. It just made no sense that he’d go from hanging out with me to dating that. I had way more layers than that perky, freckled, red head girl. Anyway, it’s whatever. I don’t care.

On to Ryan. Ryan is virtually perfect, even though he works a job he’s way too overqualified for. There is literally nothing wrong with him that would ever push me into Owen’s arms, but here I am, hoping that he cheats on me, yet knowing that I’d be heartbroken if he did. I love Ryan. I love Ryan more than I loved James in the two years we were dating and the five months we were engaged, which is sad when you think about it. The thing I can’t figure out is if I love Owen more than I love Ryan. And vice versa.

I’m in the Attendings’ Lounge making a list of pros and cons between Owen and Ryan. Don’t judge me; this is the only solution I can think of.

On one side of the paper is Ryan’s name. Under his pros and cons, I’ve listed a number of things about him.


Pros: Kind. Funny. Dog lover. Cute. Caring. Great sex. Ambitious. Can cook.

Cons: Arrogant at times. Possessive. Short tempered. A little secretive about his friends and whereabouts. His dog eats my prescription pages sometimes.

On the other side, I write Owen’s name and I find myself writing down almost the same things I wrote for Ryan.


Pros: Kind. Funny. Dog lover. Cute. Caring. Ambitious. Can cook. Great drinking buddy and high friend.

Cons: Arrogant. Possessive at times. Short tempered. Rather dominant.

It’s apparent to me now why I’m having such a hard time choosing between the two. I add has red hair to Owen’s pros. Then I remember he has a big…

“What are you doing?” I hear a dark voice ask.

I basically jump out of my skin, quickly turning the page over and covering it with my hands before looking up to see the devil himself. “Holy shit, Owen. Don’t do that.”

He leans against the table and smiles at me. “What are you writing?”

“It’s nothing,” I murmur, folding the paper. He seems to still be curious about the paper, so I change the subject. “Tonight’s movie night.” Or, at least it used to be. We haven’t hung out at all in a couple weeks.

“Sure it is,” he chuckles as he goes to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee.

“Let’s go out and drink tonight instead,” I say as I stick the piece of paper in my back pocket.

He eyes me suspiciously. “What about your boyfriend?” That’s the first time he’s said anything remotely appropriate regarding naming Ryan.

“He’s in LA for the next two days,” I say. I sound like I’m in one of those movies where my husband is out of town and I call up my secret lover to come over or one of those other movies where I’m in an abusive relationship and my partner has to be out of town for me to really be carefree. His dark blue eyes analyse mine and, for a moment, my heartrate increases with the way he’s staring so deeply at me. “Cancel on Becky,” I pressure him.

“Becca,” he corrects me, shaking his head and smiling, “And who is frying pan visiting?”

Ryan is visiting his mother,” I correct him now.

His suspicious smirk slowly turns into a soft smile. “Okay, 9pm.”

“Great,” I say, leaving before he can remind me that he isn’t drinking vodka. Owen and vodka aren’t friends, not after the night he mixed it with tequila and led us to the beach, where he almost fell off the dock.

“And I’m not drinking anything with vodka in it,” he adds as I leave the room.

“Whatever you say,” I call back.

“We are losers,” Owen says as he downs his sixth consecutive tequila shot. He came an hour late because of an emergency, so now he’s playing catch up.

“How are we losers?” I hiccup as I watch him slam the shot glass down on the table.

“We’re drinking on a Monday night,” he explains, “There’s literally no one else here in this bar.”

“Not true,” I counter, my eyes slowly scanning the bar, “There’s a guy drinking over there. Not to mention our favourite bartender is here too.” The guy a few seats over looks familiar, but everybody looks familiar when I’m drunk.

Our favourite bartender?” he exclaims, “You mean your favourite bartender that has a crush on you.”

“He does not have a crush on me,” I deny. We banter for another half hour or so until Owen can no longer hold his head up for long. At some point, I climb onto the table and sit, letting my legs hang off the edge.

“Look,” Owen says, jerking his head in the guy’s direction, “The bartender is watching you again.” I look to my side and see that Owen’s right, he’s looking at me. But once he realises I’m looking at him, he quickly averts his gaze to a glass he’s shining and blushes. I call him over and whisper in his ear for him to hand us the entire bottle of fireball. Confirming Owen’s theory that he likes me, the bartender hands us the entire bottle without hesitation.

“I didn’t think he’d give it to me,” I say in a bit of disbelief.

“See? He likes you,” Owen chuckles, taking the bottle from me. He swallows some of the golden liquid while my secret admirer disappears into the back of the bar.

“Are you jealous?” I tease him, kicking the side of his thigh with my left boot. I then go to stand up on the table; don’t ask me why. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

He looks like he’s about to tell me something, but instead he smiles and stares drunkenly at me before shaking his head. “Come off the table.”

“No,” I say like a child in protest, “I like standing on the table; it makes me taller than you.”

“There’s a sign right behind you that says no standing or sitting on the bar table,” he tells me.

‘It’s just a sign.”

“Come off the table, Amelia.” The warning tone of his voice makes me wonder why exactly he wants me off the table; because I’m breaking rules or because I’m tempting him?

Sober Amelia tells me to stop being silly and just come off the table, but drunk Amelia sits down directly in front of Owen, her legs on either side of him. Drunk Amelia slips off the table and into his lap to straddle him. Drunk Amelia opens her stupid fucking drunk mouth and says, “I’m off the table now. Happy?”

Owen doesn’t look happy at all. His ears are red, his jaw is tightened and he’s staring so hard at me that he looks constipated. For a moment, I feel small under his gaze. But then I see his eyes dart to my lips and I know he’s thinking the same thing I’ve been since the moment I met him.

“Amelia…” he whispers in a condescending tone. My heart is thumping in my chest as my eyes dart to his wet, rosy lips, watching the way they move when he says my name, the way they’re slightly parted as he breathes out, the way his golden stubble glistens under the dim lights of the bar as he talks, slightly covering his top lip. He’s saying something about a bad idea, but I’m not listening because I’m trying to convince every atom of my being not to kiss him, so I just nod as if I’m listening. I put my face closer to his until our noses are touching, my hands grabbing onto the collar of his shirt for balance. That’s when he finally shuts up. I wait to see his response, hoping he’ll stop me and hoping he won’t. His dilated blue eyes dart to the space in between our lips and, before he can give me another reason on why this is a bad idea, a reason I probably won’t listen to, I pull on his shirt and close the gap, kissing him. Our mouths fit together like two puzzle pieces, like we’ve been kissing for years. My heart picks up a pace faster than when I run as our tongues brush against one another. He wraps his arms around my lower back and I can feel the heat radiating off of him, through his shirt. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss and I feel his lips tug on my bottom lip as his tongue brushes across it in a way that feels like he’s drawing shapes on it. Before I can even stop it, a low moan escapes the depths of my throat and I push him away when I feel his fingers going under my shirt. His entire face is red now, and his lips are a darker red than before as we both struggle to catch our breath. No words pass between us as we stare at each other.

Hurricane Amelia nukes her relationship yet again.

queenofdawn71  asked:

Antonio Salieri ;)

@kmitting said: salieri for the character hcs thing you gotta

sexuality headcanon: gay and on the floor (although i can see him as bi too idk my headcanon fluctuates but i usually see him as gay)

otp: (surprising literally nobody) mozalieri!

brotp: da ponte, constance, stephanie

notp: it’s accepted canon that antonio ‘frustration incarnate’ salieri had a moment of intense attraction to rosenberg one time (more than once) and is still sort of attempting to process and deal with that but whilst that undeniably happened the concept of an actual relationship between the two of them is something i cannot confront

the first headcanon that pops into my head: salieri in public leans against walls trying to look dignified a lot but Salieri At Home is like… lying backwards along his extremely haunted sofa that came with the lodgings, an island in the middle of the chaos of his floor that’s literally covered in things he chucked onto it in frustration, eating an entire bag of sugared almonds and reading terribly-written Scandalous Gay Literature selected from his entire collection of terribly-written scandalous gay literature

mozart, unexpectedly announcing himself at the door: maestro salieri!
salieri, launching himself off the couch, scattering candy, attempting to kick his reading material under the sofa along with seven empty cups, two of which are broken, and yesterday’s cravat: How Did You Get In My House

one way in which i relate to this character: too many ways to count

one thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character: 

also the ‘when the fruit is ripe……’ bit like. tone it down there antonio

tbf i think that everything in his own life gives him secondhand embarrassment at his own damn self so

cinnamon roll or problematic fave?: i love him with my whole heart but. problematic fave

Everybody Wants To Be a Cat (Thor, pre-canon)

Here’s my newest story. It takes place years before the first Thor movie, so our favourite Asgardians are still very young here, more like human teenagers.

And yes, you guessed it right, the title is stolen borrowed from Disney’s “The Aristocats” ;)

English is not my mother tongue, if you see any errors, let me know.

With huge thanks to @devikafernando for beta reading. <3

Something moved in the bushes, making the leaves rustle. Thor hesitated for a second, then bravely pushed himself to the front, ready to shield his companions, proudly sticking out his still not wide enough chest. Sif simply snorted and ignored his attempts, moving forward to stand next to him, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. It didn’t matter that the sword was made of wood, because none of them were yet allowed to use real weapons outside the training yard. Last week during one of their regular sparrings she had almost knocked one of Fandral’s teeth out with it, so she was convinced that even a wooden sword could be deadly in her hands.

“Do you think it’s a troll?” Volstagg asked worriedly.

“I thought you said you know this forest like the back of your hand,” Sif pointed out.

Fandral eyed their oldest friend with a bit of mockery.

“Are you afraid?”

“Me? Never!” Volstagg sounded offended. “I simply thought that were anything to happen to us, no one in the palace knows where to look for us.”

“Loki knows,” said Thor, still staring suspiciously at the bushes, where something moved once again. “There is also Heimdall, but I do not think his help will be necessary…”

“You told Loki where we are going?” Fandral asked indignantly.

“He did not seem interested anyway. He prefers his books,” Thor explained with a hint of disdain.

“And I think he’s simply still angry with us that we refused to take him along to that hunt,” stated Sif.

Volstagg shrugged.

“He should be thanking us. At least he avoided your father’s…” he stopped, because there was another rustle and suddenly a slim tomcat with huge green eyes and shining black fur burst out of the bushes and into the clearing.

Thor burst out laughing.

“Here is your troll.”

“It is so charming!” exclaimed Sif, instantly letting go of her sword. “Puss puss, little one, come here!”

The cat completely ignored her. It circled the whole group, its step full of pride, its tail raised high, and it sent them a look of such superiority as if it was not a cat at all, but the troll they were worried about.

“Look, it glares at us just like your father, Thor,” chuckled Fandral.

“So if there are wild cats here, does it mean no trolls?” added Volstagg, his voice filled with badly concealed relief.

“It does not seem wild to me,” answered Sif, still following the cat, determined to pet it. “It is so beautiful and neat.”

Apparently, the cat was not completely tame though, because in this very moment it hissed angrily at the girl, its fur ruffled, and she finally gave up her attempts. Instead, she simply shrugged and went back to her friends.

“A cat is just a cat,” stated Thor, as if voicing her thoughts. “Let us go on. We have to reach the springs and come back home before night.”

They went on, passing by the cat, which was now sitting on a fallen tree, playing idly with its tail. They didn’t go far when they realized that the animal was following them though.

“Hey, maybe the trolls sent him as a spy?” Volstagg asked.

Sif just sent him a look and he shut up.

After an hour or so they got used to the sight of the animal, which appeared and disappeared as it wished but still seemed to accompany them. Finally they reached their destination, the Rainbow Springs. Tired, they sat down on the rocks to rest, staring at the water that sparkled with a thousand of colours. To their surprise, the cat passed indifferently by Sif and Fandral, then lay down next to Thor. It lowered its black head to drink some of the multicoloured water, and it did not protest when Odinson reached out tentatively to pet its back.

“Look, it likes me!” he exclaimed proudly.

“It is probably because of your animal magnetism,” joked Fandral.

Thor frowned.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked in a serious tone.

Sif snorted quietly.

“I mean your bear-like strength, of course,” answered Fandral quickly.

This time the snort came from the cat’s direction, but nobody noticed it.

Having rested, the four friends swam for some time in the colourful water, then reluctantly got ready to head back. The cat disappeared somewhere again, apparently bored with their company. They did not get too far though when they realized that the forest was getting alarmingly dark.

“Listen, do you remember when exactly the sun set?” asked Sif, unsuccessfully trying to see the sky between the thick branches.

“I can’t remember,” Volstagg admitted, unwittingly quickening his pace. It had been years since trolls had been seen in this area, but still he did not feel like remaining in the forest after dusk.

Thor did not look worried though.

“Do you think we would not be able to defeat a troll? There are four of us and we are no helpless civilians!”

“But we only have training swords,” Sif pointed out.

“Still, with our intelligence combined with Thor’s and Volstagg’s muscles, we can fight anyone!” Fandral exclaimed, reaching for his sword and swirling it in the air to emphasize his words.

“If only I had Mjolnir already…” muttered Thor in a dreamy tone.

The others met his words with a simultaneous groan.

“Yes, we know. You would destroy your enemies, and your name would be remembered in songs for the centuries to come,” Sif finished for him. “What a pity it will not happen for at least a few more years,” she summed up mercilessly.

“It is not fair,” Thor complained. “Loki has had his powers since he was born. Why do I have to wait for mine until I am grown up?”

“Yours, however, will be much more useful,” Volstagg assured him.

“Of course,” Fandral agreed. “I do not think Loki would be able to destroy his enemies with his magic tricks.”

“I am sure he would not,” Thor laughed at least. “He could at most disappear and mislead them for so long that they would simply get bored with his game and leave.”

Sif also wanted to join in with a mocking comment but she closed her mouth when she spotted their feline companion again. This time it was not following them like before; it stood in the middle of the path in front of them, blocking their way.

“Be gone!” Volstagg yelled at it, but the cat did not move.

“Go away!” Fandral joined him. He raised his leg as if to kick, but the animal glared at him in such a manner that he immediately changed his mind.

“Listen, it looks as if it is trying to tell us something,” Sif observed.

“Are you serious? It is just a cat,” Thor snorted. He walked up to the animal, squatted down in front of it and spoke in a slow and clear manner: “Go away and let us pass.”

“Get lost!” he added more vehemently when the cat ignored him. “Do you know who I am? I am Thor Odinson, the prince of this land, and I am ordering you to leave!”.

“Why are you talking to it? It is just a cat,” Sif mocked him. “Come on, we can walk around it, cannot we?”

But as they moved on, the cat jumped ahead and blocked their path again, hissing angrily when they did not stop.

“What is wrong with it?” Fandral asked, frowning irritably.

Sif froze and raised her hand, telling him to be quiet.

“Shh, do you hear it?”

There was a regular rumble somewhere in the distance.

“Trolls!” Volstagg moaned, gazing around in fear.

“Even if it is them, they are still quite far away,” Thor reassured him.

“Maybe, but they are exactly between us and the palace,” Sif observed, still listening.

“Trolls do not have good hearing, and the forest is thick here. If we walk very quietly and carefully, we might be able to pass them by without being noticed,” said Thor.

“Look at the cat, it looks as if it wants to lead us,” the girl pointed at the animal, which had already walked ahead and was now waiting patiently, sending them expectant glances. When Sif spoke those words, it meowed in confirmation.

Thor hesitated only for a short while.

“Agreed, let us follow the cat,” he decided.

Loki stormed into the palace, passing unnoticed by the chatting guards, then he jumped up and climbed the drainpipes and the parapets to the floor where his and Thor’s chambers were located. He entered the dark and empty room through the open window, quietly discarded the spell and then lit the nearby candles with a simple gesture of his hand. He hardly managed to lie down on the couch in a pose of lazy boredom, a book open in his lap, when his brother stormed into the room. Thor was dirty and panting, but his face was bright with excitement.

“Loki, you will not believe what happened today!”

“I have no idea,” Loki answered in a tone that was a perfect mixture of indifference and irony. “Were you told that knocking before you enter someone’s chambers is no longer a requirement? Because as far as I know it still is.”

Thor had heard similar comments often enough to learn to be deaf to them.

“We have met trolls!” he exclaimed, unceremoniously pushing his brother’s long legs out of the way to sit down next to them on the couch. “A whole bunch of them. Even some young ones! They must have been heading to the mountains in search for new caves to live in.”

“And what happened next? Did they run away screaming when you showed them your bravery and skill?” Loki turned the page, still stone-faced.

Thor looked down, disconcerted, visibly waiting to see what would win the fight — pride or honesty.

“They did not see us,” he finally admitted. “We passed them by quietly.”

This time Loki glanced up from the book, slightly raising his right brow.

“Oh. Congratulations,” he answered shortly, so that it was impossible to say if he meant it as a complement to their good sense or rather as a mockery.

Thor apparently choose the first option, because, still grinning, he reached for the book, pulled it from his protesting brother’s hands and threw it on the floor.

“Come on, Loki, I’ll tell you the whole story during supper. I am so hungry that I could eat a whole troll!”

“I would not, if I were you. Trolls have stone-like skin. Are you positive that you saw at least one?” Loki held out his hand and the book obediently flew back to it. “Forgive me, brother, but I have a very interesting paragraph here and I am dying to read the rest of it. I am sure your expedition was fascinating though.” And he pretended to bury himself in the book once again.

Thor complained for a while longer, but finally he gave up and left, probably to join his friends who would be happy to listen to his bragging. And, Loki thought, it was good that his brother was so occupied with his little adventure, because it was only after Thor had left when he noticed that half of the floor of his chamber was covered with the little muddy prints left by a cat’s paws. Next time he would have to be more careful.


Keep reading

So I tried painting this using my finger and phone. Needless to say it took forever especially as a first attempt at doing something like this. In the end, I needed to just walk away from it. How do you guys digital art??? I have no clue. An attempt was made at least. Hopefully doing this helps if I do any future digital art. Anyway, this is the final product!! Be kind to yourselves!!! I’ll tag @thatsthat24 because the time spent on this made me really want to give you a blanket and say go to bed. I’ll also tag @pansexualroman @pattonpending @prinanalogicality @vortexart and @darkness-anon because they’re awesome!!

Mercury Placements

Mercury in Aries

Mercury in Taurus

Mercury in Gemini

Mercury in Cancer

Mercury in Leo

Mercury in Virgo

Mercury in Libra

Mercury in Scorpio

Mercury in Sagittarius

Mercury in Capricorn

Mercury in Aquarius

Mercury in Pisces

(Side note: First time doing something like this. Did I do okay?)

Linkin Park & Me

If you’ve ever gotten to know me, you know that I’m a Linkin Park fan. Like a really, really, REALLY big Linkin Park fan. I’ve never been one to stan too hard over anything, but I’m a Linkin Park stan. For a long time, Linkin Park has been more than just a favorite band, they’ve been a crucial part of my identity since I was thirteen.

I don’t remember when exactly I first heard of Linkin Park. It was at the end of the seventh grade. The name intrigued me, but I wasn’t really into heavy metal. I remember seeing the video for “One Step Closer” on the wall of TVS at Wet Seal, and being shocked at how much I liked it. Then summer came along. I was watching MTV during a stretch of videos in the middle of the day, and the video for “Crawling” came on. I sat with my jaw open throughout the whole thing. It was utterly rapturous. Beautiful. The most incredible thing I had ever, ever, ever heard. 

At the time, the biggest music act in the world around me was Britney Spears, whose hyper-sexualized little girl act revolted me (the older, more mature well-versed in feminism me still finds the act revolting, but with a more nuanced understanding of female sexuality and the male gaze). With the notion ingrained in my head that being a typical teenage girl meant tiny clothing, suggestive lyrics, and lots of belly-wiggling and hip thrusting, being a “freak” was a refuge. I wasn’t here to shake my ass and coyly tell the world that I was a virgin. I was a chubby girl who was never going to look like Britney, and being a “freak” was how I asserted that I had more to offer than just sexy flesh.

I got emo glasses that were just like Chester’s, thick black, rectangular glasses that I’ve worn ever since. I bought a new wardrobe at Hot Topic. I hung out with a bunch of other “freaks” who adored Linkin Park. On the morning of 9/11, I remember having an argument with my friends over what happened in the “Crawling” video. I listened to Hybrid Theory on the bus ride home every day. I listened to it falling asleep. I made my first serious attempt at writing something. 

That’s the other part of my identity, I’m a writer. A writer and a Linkin Park fan, those are the two intractable parts of who I am and who I want to be that stays the same through everything and around which everything else is built. Everything, every poem, every blog post, every novel, every script, EVERYTHING, I write with the intention of being as good as Linkin Park’s music is. That’s always been my highest ambition, to write something that makes someone else feel like I feel when I listen to Linkin Park. I don’t know if I’ve achieved that goal yet, but I still want to.

I’ve struggled with teen angst, ADD, and depression, and Linkin Park helped give voice to all of that. In a vast, dark sea of love songs, sex songs, and songs about money, drugs, and riches, songs about emotions and experiences rife with darkness was something I could relate to. I sometimes joke about today’s pop music’s lack of angst, “What do kids these days listen to when they want to *feel* something?” 

I always wanted to meet Chester Bennington, but, now I’ll have to accept the fact that I never will. It fucking hurts. But I can still say what I’d hoped to say to him: Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. For being so unique, for writing such incredible music, for being in my life. From the deepest part of my soul, thank you for existing.


monday, july 10 — first attempt at journaling! i got very inspired today, maybe because i watched the movie wild and read few articles about simone veil yesterday night but yea, here is my page for the day! i really like journaling even if everything is new to me. what i like the most is even if you screw up something (like my first mountain that i particularly hate) it doesn’t matter! who cares? you write and create for your own self!🙌🏻 if you do like what im doing i can insert more journaling in my account. my version of journaling is quite personal, i do it to inspire myself, remember important things that i don’t want to forget in ten years, i want to illustrate my life, my thoughts, and more. i don’t want to spend hours a day journaling, i mean I want to keep it productive and just to important things, sometimes there will only be 2 lignes or 2 words for a day, or nothing for a week but that’s how i see it!

do you guys keep a journal or something similar like a bullet journal? i hope you had an amazing day!
instagram: thomreads

compassion. | 1

Originally posted by jeonsshi

2 | 3

not requested.

“Your ass looks great.” “Will you fuck off for a second?”

“You’ve really fucked me over this time.”

“Please let me in.”

genre: fuckboi!jungkook, roommate!jungkook, possibly smut in the future? angstish for now tbh

How you ended up with the world’s biggest fuckboy as your roommate, you don’t know; actually you did but still why you stayed you don’t know. This was seriously one of the world’s wonders; there were no common interests or reasons we had to get along but somehow we both ended up in this place together. You had been placed in the same apartment thanks to your friend Jimin who was moving to his own place and he said he’d look for a roommate for you, you didn’t expect that guy to move the worst person he could possibly choose into your home.

“I’m sorry, okay? He needed a place to stay after getting kicked out of Youngjae’s place.”, Jimin sympathetically told you whilst you tried to enjoy a meal. “If they kicked out, what makes you think I want him?” “Come on, he’s like a younger brother to me, he’s your age. Give him a chance?” “He’s literally the worst, since the day I met him I’ve wanted to murder him.” “Jeez, you need to stop hanging out with Yoongi.” “Besides the point, Jimin.” “I’m sorry, just give him a chance, if you can’t stand him, just leave, come to me, I don’t care, but give it a go. I kinda do wanna live on my own now?” “Am I the problem?”, you asked unamused by his hectic argument. “No, no, it’s not you, it’s just easier to get to work and school from my new place. You’re always welcome over if you need to stay or something, don’t worry.” “Fine, this is all for you Park Jimin.”

The things you do for this guy; you had a soft spot for Jimin, he was like an older brother to you. The one you never had, he really needed a roommate and soon you became friends, that was after realising you guys had mutual friends. Well, now you were living with Jungkook for Jimin’s sake.

It wasn’t too bad at first, neither of you spoke to each other and when he did attempt to make conversation you would simply tell him: “Did we agree on talking at this time or am i hearing things?”, causing him to sigh and give up on trying to gain your friendship. Other times you were forced to speak to him, like when he was in front of the fridge, the stove, the microwave or the door. “Move out the way dickead.”, you told him after he was blocking the entrance to the bathroom. “That’s not how you pronounce Jungkook!”, he pouted as he dried his hair with a towel. “Was I trying to pronounce your name? I don’t think so and you’re still in the way!” “My apologies, my lady.” He would always attempt to joke around with you and be friendly, but you assumed he was doing so to be civil not to be friends with you after he dropped you and Isla back in high school, even if you weren’t friends with Isla anymore, it still sucked.

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any other cool autistic peops have issues with people just expecting u to magically Know how to do something u have never done before

like if ive never, say, made an appointment at a place before, or some cooking process ive never attempted before, just some mundane task im doing for the first time my mom expects me to already know what to do or just figure it out while doing it & make no mistakes & i ????? donut understand that. like i guess its tasks that r usually simple & normal for allistics/neurotypicals but if ive never done it before how am i supposed to just know what to do

& then of course it ties in with the Vague Instructions thing bc i need specific step-by-step instructions if im doing something new & she will just tell me vague shit & get annoyed if i dont get it right away 

Girls Night | Wanda Maximoff/ Natasha Romanoff |

Anonymous requested: Hey! Can I request a smutty Wanda x Natasha x Reader threesome? Like maybe they’re having a girls night out at the club and it gets hot, so they head back to the reader’s place? Thank you xx
Sure thing sweet cakes! This my first attempt at a smutty threesome, but I am going to try my hardest for you.

Summary: Normally ‘Girls Night’ consisted of staying at yours and eating junk food and watching movies, but this time Natasha wants to do something different. Besides, clubs are always fun, right?

Warnings: This is pure filth. Face-sitting, eating out, fingering, tribbing, ménage à trois, dirty talk, hair-pulling, choking, masturbation, swearing, alcohol consumption, semi-public foreplay.

Originally posted by capntony

Originally posted by queenturtle14

“Tonight, ladies, we are doing something different!” Natasha exclaimed as she burst into the room, making you and Wanda jump.

“Like what?” You asked, worried about what she had in mind. Her kind of different could be anything from going out to leading an interrogation. She smirked and held up three dresses and make up.

“We are going to a club.” She stated, making both you and Wanda grin. It had been so long since you’d been to a club, and what better way to celebrate the end of one of the toughest missions yet than going out with your best friends.

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@fuckrikosquad creation event: Roasted Riko

“I don’t think you’re telling Kevin to sit out because of his health. I think you know this season is going to be a disaster for your reputation. You and Kevin have always played in each other’s shadows. You’ve always been a pair. Now you have to face each other on the court as rivals for the first time, and people are going to know how premature this was.” Neil gestured at his face, meaning Riko and Kevin’s tattoos. "I think you’re scared.”

-pg 224, The Foxhole Court