my favorite hobbies are: drinking coffee, going to get coffee, making coffee, thinking about drinking coffee, going to coffee shops, asking people to get coffee with me, drinking coffee with other people drinking coffee, talking about coffee, trying different kinds of coffee, drinking coffee out of mugs, drinking coffee out of paper cups, drinking coffee out of travel mugs, black coffee, coffee with milk and sugar, iced coffee, coffee,
my favorite hobbies are: watching tv shows, binge watching tv shows, watching tv shows and chilling, watching tv shows while eating junk food, watching tv shows with friends, watching tv shows in my bed, watching tv shows alone and crying over certain characters, watching tv shows instead of dealing with my problems, talking about tv shows, shipping couples from tv shows, convincing ppl to watch tv shows, #tvshows,
tumblr dash: 75 headers, 235 ulzzangs + 169 apop and kpop artist icons;
37 nature pngs;
45 kpop pastel pics;
1054 pics for edit (icons, headers, wallpaper, etc)
81 pixel art;
796 random pngs;
56 universe pics.
to get the pack you have to:
follow the tumblr (I’ll check);
like and reblog this post (I’ll check);
ask here“RINNEGOU PACK” (I will not answer anonymous);
DON’T publish or repass the link of this pack.
and again I want to thank you for everything, making icons and headers is my favorite hobby, is like a refuge for me and know that you guys like it is even better, so thank you for all the encouragement. It means a lot.
Obrigado pelos 12 mil seguidores!!
O pack é dividido em dois: Victory e Hope.
Victory pack contém 3.625 pngs/pics:
45 balões hq;
217 bases para headers;
105 bubble speech;
31 frases/letras chinesas;
355 computer stuff;
4 fontes para lyrics header;
280 pngs kawaii;
8 photobooths (corações, pássaros, etc ) para icons;
109 pink glitter;
1.015 textos em png;
Hope pack contém 4.200+ pngs/pics:
177 roupas aesthetic;
274 fotos aesthetic;
178 pngs aesthetic;
104 pngs preto e branco;
54 pngs azuis;
90 cyber images;
tumblr dash: 75 headers, 235 ulzzangs + 169 apop and kpop artist icons;
37 nature pngs;
45 kpop pastel pics;
1054 fotos para edição (icons, headers, wallpaper, etc)
796 pngs aleatórios;
56 pngs de planetas.
para conseguir o pack, você precisará:
seguir o tumblr (vou conferir);
reblogar e dar like nesse post (vou conferir);
mandar “RINNEGOU PACK” na ask (não responderei anônimos);
NÃO publicar ou repassar o link da pack.
e de novo eu quero agradecer por tudo, fazer icons e headers para vocês é meu passatempo preferido, é como um refúgio para mim e saber que vocês gostam é melhor ainda, então muito obrigado por todo o incentivo e elogios, isso significa muito.
It took me 4 hours just to upload this pack but months to select photos and organize, have some respect for me and for my time and don’t publish or repass the link of this pack. Thank you.
Sibling Intervention (Jasper Hale x Reader) w/Brother! Emmett
Plot: “Hi I really liked your Jasper imagine so can you do another one where you’re his newborn mate, and the wolf pack are coming over to help train and him and Emmett get protective over you? Like the whole “I’m your big brother and I’m supposed to keep you away from the mutts” kinda thing lol. Thank uuuu” (requested)
Word Count: 1,275
Warnings: I think some swearing, but other than that, none.
A/N: this was really fun to make, I’m actually kinda proud if this one! Thanks to the anon that requested this! I hope you like it.
I was standing next to Jasper who was grabbing my hand and squeezing it at times to reassure me and I knew that he was trying to calm me down and it was working perfectly as I was no longer nervous or afraid.
“Well, Jasper has experience in newborns, he will teach us how to defeat them” Carlisle’s calm voice sounded through the forest, he was standing a little bit further than us facing the wolves who just came.
Silence surrounded us once again but Edward’s voice filled the empty space quickly.
“They want to know how a newborn is different than us”
Carlisle turned a little and looked at me smiling a little like if he was asking if it was okay to introduce me, I just nodded.
“Well, we happen to have one with us today” He positioned himself next to me and place a hand on my shoulder “This is (Y/N), she is Jasper’s mate, our newest member of the family, hence why her eyes are different from us but don’t worry, she is transitioning and will be just like us soon”
“They still want to know the difference, they say she looks just like us” I wasn’t even looking but I knew that Emmett was grinning on his spot; he was the one that enjoyed the most me being a newborn and having my strength.
Carlisle looked at Jasper and motioned him to continue speaking while he left to go back next to Esme; Jasper nodded and moved a little closer but still holding my hand.
“She is stronger than us; her blood is still on her tissues making her more physically powerful. Our kind is stronger on our first several months of this life, that’s why they are created” he looked at me and gave me a side smile “not in her case though” he looked again at the wolves “a newborn army doesn’t need thousands like a human army, that’s why no human army could stand against them”
The black wolf that was standing right in from of me growled, his eyes never leaving mine. Jasper noticed that so he moved to a side pushing me slightly backward but I was still close to him.
“There are two important things that you have to remember” he raised his voice a bit “First, never let them get their arms around you, they will crush you in a second” he looked around giving a warning look to our family but turned back to see the wolves “and never go for the obvious kill, they will be expecting that and you’ll lose”
He quickly turned and grabbed my hand again but left me next to Edward as he kept walking forward to the center of the forest.
“Emmett” he simply called and in a second Emmett was standing a couple of meters away from him but still facing Jasper. “Don’t hold back”
“Not in my nature” he said and grinned at Jasper before launching himself onto him but in a couple of seconds, Emmett was lying on the floor, his face facing the sky.
“Never lose focus” he cockily said while moving aside from him and coming to my side to snake his arm on my waist and pulled me closer to him. “Prepare yourself, babe, you are next”
I only smiled in anticipation, I loved wrestling, I became one of my favorite hobbies once I turned, and it just was really fun for me. Even though I knew he wasn’t completely okay with the fact that I was fighting today it was just to train, I knew he wouldn’t let me participate when the actual fight took place, so I just wanted to have fun.
Edward and Carlisle were fighting intensely, neither of them backing off; Jasper let go of me and started walking around them inspecting every movement, but at the end, Edward was the clear winner and turned to see Jasper.
“One more thing” he said and in an instant Carlisle grabbed Edward and pushed him onto the ground and I couldn’t help but laugh at this. “Never turn your back on the enemy”
Jasper made his way to the center and spoke to everyone once again.
“Okay, so now that we got the basics covered, it’s time for a real newborn to step in” He said and turned his head to look at me, giving me a cocky smile which I returned with a huge grin. I knew this was going to be extremely easy for me, but anyway it was fun. I made my way next to him, and he cupped my face with one hand and looked at me profoundly before walking away next to the rest of the family.
I turned and looked at Rosalie, bringing my hand up and pointing my fingers at her I motioned her to come with me, she slowly made her way towards me with her arms crossed against her chest.
Once she was close enough I nodded and she quickly threw two punches at me which I easily dodged them taking my opportunity to grab her arm and twisted it forcing her body to twist as well but she felt to the ground crouching in one leg and tried to make me fall with the leg that was stretched but I jumped before it could even touch me, and before my feet touched the ground I pushed my hand over her chest making her fall flat on the ground, making a small crater when she hit the ground.
“You can’t still beat me, Rose” I laughed at her while she was standing up, she just gave me a ‘fuck off’ look and made her way back to her spot.
“Emmett, your turn” Jasper called out and in a quick second I had Emmett in front of my with a shit eating grin that made me laugh.
“Please don’t you dare to hold back, big boy” I purred to him tilting my head a little. He cracked his neck just to show off but his face changed almost immediately making me furrow my eyebrows together.
“Wait a minute” he said raising a hand like stopping everything and stared into nothing as if he was thinking to himself “I’m your big brother (YN)” he suddenly stated and I couldn’t be more confused.
“Well, yeah…” I trailed off, not really sure where he was trying to say.
“I’m not supposed to encourage you into fighting, even less with the mutts” he spat and looked at me with a serious face “Goddammit, I’m your big brother!” he stated again but now shouting and I looked at the rest of the clan but they all had the same face, they were staring at Emmett with a confused grin like I was. “We are done, missy, you are going home”
In less than a second, I was thrown into his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and he was walking away from everyone.
“Wait, what the actual fuck, put me down!” I tried to wiggle out but even if I was stronger this position didn’t help me at all, and all I could do was to give up and just look back where Carlisle was standing next to Jasper shouting to Emmett.
“Emmett, bring her back, we need her!” Carlisle shouted at us.
“Sorry, I can’t hear you!” and with that, he started running with me on his back.
“We are going to be siblings, you said, it will be so fun, you said” I said but the only response that I had from him was a loud laugh; I sighed, I give up.
got this package in the mail from my dad: brown paper wrapping, large
but flat, with the word “FRAGILE” written on it in black ink. When I
unwrapped it, it was this big, acrylic painting, framed in some sort of
The painting itself was of this long hallway full of doors, kind of
like you’d see in a fancy hotel. The walls had edging about halfway up,
the upper part was painted sort of an off white while the lower half was
a crimson red that blended into the carpeting. Between each door was an
up-turned light, as well as on the far wall at the end, where the
corridor seemed to connect to another hallway running perpendicular to
it, disappearing around a corner.
It was really amazing detail, though I wouldn’t call it life-like by
any means. Just the sheer amount of intricate pieces to each aspect of
the scene showed that the artist really paid attention to every little
thing, like somewhere in the world was this hallway, and you could stand
in it and hold the painting up in front of you and if it weren’t for
the border and the clearly stylized art, you wouldn’t be able to tell
where the canvas ended and the real world began.
I called him up and thanked him immediately.
“But where’d you find this?”
“I got it at an auction.”
I kinda figured as much.
So I hung up the painting in my office, just behind my desk, which I
realized later wasn’t the best place for it because in order to actually
look at it, I had to swivel completely around, but there wasn’t
anywhere better really, and once I’d gotten it hung up, I felt less
willing to take it back down, so I just left it there. It kind of hung
out over my shoulder and watched me work, and every now and then I’d
turn around and stare at it and get entranced by it, feeling like I
could get up and put my hands in the frame and climb into the painting
as if the frame were a window.
Of course, I wouldn’t be writing this if something weird didn’t happen as a result of the painting.
We had a couple friends over, Marc and Sabina, and Marc and I went
into my office when the women-folk started talking about knitting, which
has become my wife’s new favorite hobby. I went and sat down at my
laptop to find a video I had been telling Marc about, and Marc wandered
over and started admiring the painting.
“Where’d you get that?”
“My dad bought it at an auction and gave it to me.”
“It’s not that creepy. It’s kind of… I don’t know.”
I turned around to look at it with him while the video loaded. He got
up close and was running his finger over the canvas, feeling the raised
acrylic, and I just let my gaze wander over all the details again.
“Huh, I didn’t notice that before.”
“At the end of the hall, there’s some sort of light coming from around the corner, and it’s casting a shadow on the floor.”
I got up and looked closer, because I really hadn’t spent a lot of
time studying the far end of the hallway. There was definitely some
yellow and some darker colors making what looked like the shadow of a
person coming from around the corner. I even reached out and touched it
to make sure it wasn’t some trick of the light in the study making it
just look like there was this shadow in the painting, but I felt the
paint and sure enough it was actually there in the painting.
“See what I mean?” Marc said, “Creepy.”
I genuinely felt weirded out by it. It was one of those moments where you start thinking, Why didn’t I notice this earlier? Was it there to notice?
A couple days later, I was working on a project in my study, and it
was like 9:30 at night, and I just couldn’t focus, so I spun around in
my chair to look at the painting and I felt this sudden vertigo effect,
like the ground wasn’t there and I had to grab my chair to keep from
tumbling into emptiness.
You wouldn’t have noticed it if you hadn’t looked at the painting a
hundred times like I had. The hallway was long, with exactly six doors. I
remember, because I counted them the first day. three on the left,
three on the right, each with a little shiny, metal doorknob.
Only now there were seven doors. Three on the left, four on
the right. It didn’t make sense. Everything looked proportionally
exactly the same, and the far end of the corridor was just as far away,
and yet there was a fourth door in the right side of the hallway, with
its little metal doorknob. I don’t even know which door was the fourth
door, that’s how well it blended in, I just know that there were four
doors where once there were three.
“What the hell is going on?”
I turned away in my chair and back to check several times and make
sure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me, but the number of doors
I called my dad again and I asked him, “Is this a trick painting you sent me?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean it keeps changing. I can see it changing.”
“Not as far I know. It was just one in a bunch I picked up all at the same auction.”
After I got off the phone I took the painting down and checked the
back for some some of mechanical or digital hocus pocus, but it was all
soft canvas so I left it on the floor behind my office chair with the
painting facing the wall because the thought of it was freaking me out.
The next day I pulled my wife into my office and held the painting up
so she could see it because she hadn’t had a chance to before.
“How many doors are there?” I asked.
She looked it over for a moment. “Seven.”
“When I first got this, there were six.”
She just looked at me like I was being a goofball. “Okay, so which one wasn’t there before?”
“I have no idea.”
“You don’t know which door magically appeared?” and she laughed and gave me a kiss and went back into the other room.
It gets worse.
The next time I chatted with Marc, I told him about the extra door in the painting.
“Are you sure there weren’t seven doors to begin with?”
“Well, I would swear I counted six.”
“Well, if another one shows up, at least Melissa counted seven, and
can confirm it then. You know what you should do? You should take a
photo of the painting so you can prove it if anything else changes.”
What a great idea, so I got my phone and took a photo of the painting.
Two days went by. Nothing.
On the third day, I walked into my office and there was a man staring
at me. Well, I mean… it wasn’t… I can’t say that it was a man or a
woman. Hell, I can’t say that it was human. There was a shape
at the end of the hallway in my painting. It was oddly lacking in the
detail that the rest of the painting had, like someone had hurriedly
painted it on. I even ran my hand over it to make sure it wasn’t fresh,
that someone hadn’t actually come in and painted over my painting to
drive me crazy.
It was really there.
And the look of it scared me more than anything else, changing
painting included. I wish I could do it justice with words, but the best
I can describe it is that it was human-ish, with legs and
arms, but it seemed squat, or hunched, and lopsided, like someone had
slapped a blurry Quasimodo onto an otherwise beautiful painting. You
couldn’t see the details of its face, but you could see shading on it,
defining really warped features. I was almost glad that there wasn’t
more detail to it, except that it left just enough to the imagination to
give one nightmares.
But I had proof! Here was proof that the painting was changing. So I
brought up the file on my laptop to show my wife for comparison, only
when I did, the figure was in the photo I took too!
At no point did I start questioning my sanity about all this.
Something unnatural and terrifying was going on, so I took the painting
out of the house and set it on the curb where we put our trash for
pickup. I was so done with that painting.
Or so I thought.
The next evening, when I got home from work, it was gone from the
curb. I figured someone had seen it and taken it home, and I waved my
hands and said, “Good, now it’s someone else’s problem.” I went in,
played with daughter, had dinner, put them to bed, and after watching a
show with my wife, went into my office to check my email.
No, the painting wasn’t back on the wall. I made sure of that the moment I walked in the door.
But I got a message from Marc, asking if the painting had changed
anymore, and I told him about the creepy new addition and also how I had
gotten rid of the painting.
“Oh man, that sounds cool. I wish I’d gotten a chance to see it.”
“Well, I can send you the photo I took of it.”
So I opened the image file.
The thing in the painting had raised its arms.
Before, you could only barely make out the arms hanging at its sides,
but now both arms were raised up over its head, and its fingers were
spread apart like it was waving hello at me. I think it was waving hello at me.
I zoomed in, as best as I could without pixelating the image, and the shaded contours of the face seemed stretched into a grin.
Oh Jesus, Mary and Joseph.
I sent Marc the file, but the connection kept fucking up, so I put it
in a folder on my dropbox account and gave him access to it.
“The file’s corrupted.” He texted me.
I tried to open it as well, but he was right. Every time I copied the image file, somehow it got corrupted.
“It must be the spooky magic.” Marc joked.
“This is no joke. I’m freaking out here.”
“Delete the file if it’s scaring you so bad.”
So I deleted the file.
But it gnawed at me, you know? The painting was still changing, in
horrible, terrifying ways, seemingly acknowledging my observation of it,
and now it was gone. But if it was gone, why should it matter? If
something unholy happens, it’s the problem of whoever has the painting
now, right? And they’ll see it changing too, won’t they?
It was two days later, and I was organizing a folder of documents and
had accidentally deleted a couple I hadn’t meant to. I went into the
Windows recycling bin and –you guessed it– there was the image file
along with the documents.
I had to look. I was trembling with dread at the thought of it, but
when something so surreal happens to you, you have to witness it and see
it through to the end.
I recovered the file and opened it.
The walls of the hallway seemed to be melting. The partition
separating the red from the off-white was lower than it had been before,
and drooped in places. The ridge on the lights looked like they were
peeling off. The carpet seemed less crimson and more reddish brown.
And the figure had taken several steps down the corridor toward the
viewer’s perspective. More details had become defined: hair hanging off
its head, long and black like it had been painted with a fine-tipped
brush, the eyes were little more than dull black points under the
shading of the brow. The grin came with teeth, uneven and fat, like
those of a child more than an adult. Its arms were extended out on
either side of it, touching both walls. One foot was ahead of the other,
as if I had caught it mid-step in a game of red light/green light.
I realized I was panting and shaking as I looked at it. It was really
hard to breathe, an anxiety attack. The painting was going to make me
pass out, just from looking at a digital photo of it.
Quickly, I closed the image to calm myself down, but that suddenly brought forth the thought, What if it progresses every time I look away? The only way to stop it is to keep looking! and I opened the file again.
No change. Oh– no, wait, that wasn’t a new change, I had noticed it
before, but it hadn’t dawned on me. One of the doors was open. There was
a dim blue light coming from the room inside, moonlight I thought. And
just outside the threshold of the door, there was an object lying on the
I zoomed in for better detail.
It was a little, yellow, stuffed lion with a scraggly, orange mane. A
child’s toy. Of all the details, the melting hallway, the grinning
fiend with arms wide open, the blue light from the open doorway, it was
the innocent nature of that little toy lion that filled me with the most
My wife came into the office.
“Come kiss Gabby goodnight.”
I went into her darkened room, where she was wrapped up in blankets
in her bed, hugging a half dozen stuffed animals and looking cute as
could be. My little darling. I love her so much.
I kissed my daughter goodnight. She kissed me back and hugged her
little pillowpet with the built in night light. It glowed through a
variety of colors.
“I love you, baby.” I told her.
“Can you get my Simba?”
I looked around. “Where’d you leave it?”
“Over there.” She pointed to the closet. The door was open, and her toy lay on the floor just inside.
Simba, her little, yellow, stuffed lion with the scraggly, orange mane.
Seeing it lying there, just past the threshold of the closet door,
while the dim glow of my daughter’s night light faded from red to purple
to blue, I felt my heart rise up in my chest. The closet was just a
closet. I could see it was just a closet. There were clothes on
hangers and bags with toys and blocks in them. They were right there.
And yet, as I looked at the stuffed lion lying on the floor, waiting for
me, I felt as if I could see carpeting on the floor inside the closet,
even though there was none. Carpeting, not in my vision, but in my
imagination. And maybe if I went in and shut the door, I’d find that the
walls beyond those clothes had a wooden partition, red below, off-white
And maybe there was something hunched and terrible shambling its way toward us even as I stood there staring at that toy.
I walked, briskly, trying not to look half as frightened as I was,
snatched up Simba and shut the closet door. My breathing was heavy, like
I’d just run a mile, and I struggled to avoid gasping for breath as I
tried to calm myself down.
“Hey, did that poster fall down?” I asked nobody in particular, then
pretended I was trying to adjust a cat poster that had been on the floor
by her dresser for months, and shoved the heavy dresser over so that it
partially blocked the closet door.
“Here’s Simba, sweety.” I handed the lion to Gabby, gave her a quick
hug and kiss, and wished her goodnight before rushing back to my office.
The painting had changed, as I knew it would. The open door was
closed, the toy gone from the floor, the hallway was dimly lit with
yellow light from the melting lights again. But the thing, that
not-quite-human fiend, was standing right outside the now shut door, its
body turned to face it with both hands pressed up against the door
itself like it was running its hands down it, caressing it, and its head
turned toward me, still grinning that awful, frightening grin full of
gnashed, crooked teeth.
Oh God how close had it been? No, it’s just a closet! The hallway is not there. It’s not real. None of this is real.
I’ve put up signs around the neighborhood, knocked on doors, asked
everyone I know and many I don’t if they know who took the painting. I
need to find it and get it back. I want to tear it, shred it in my
hands, throw it in a fire and watch it burn to ashes. Jesus God in
Heaven, I hope it didn’t end up in some landfill.
I’ve learned the awful truth… All Doors Lead To The Hallway