no one will reblog this but i felt like it had to be made

alrighty so last year i made a top ten fic rec of 2015 and it seemed like a lot of people enjoyed it/reblogged it/whatever so i thought i would make one for this year as well :)

so again these are my top ten fics that were published and/or completed in 2016. 

10. until the flower of this love has blossomed… | ziamslilo

“And when he kissed this boy, he knew that nothing in his life would ever compare to the way he felt when their lips first touched, the very essence of his skin burned in his memory like a lasting reminder of what he could of had, but never allowed himself to indulge in.”

9. Let’s kiss a little instead | tessalane

It’s like Liam understands every part of his soul and accepts it just as it is. It’s like Liam knows how to say and do things in order to make Zayn feel good and relaxed and calm. It’s like Liam is the perfect anchor to Zayn’s anxious, self-conscious, insecure being who always worries too much and never opens up.

He just likes Liam. A lot.

Zayn and Liam are the world’s best football players and they both play for opposite teams. Zayn had a hard time growing up and struggles a lot with anxiety and pressure problems and he hates Liam for always being cool and chill and perfect. So when the two rivals finally meet, things go down a completely different road than Zayn had expected.

8. I’ll Breathe Your Air Into My Lungs (no longer on AO3) | bythelightofthenight

It started out as a romance where opposites attract but in the making it became Zayn’s story of where he has to realize that he is the only one who can save himself.

Zayn doesn’t know what loving someone truly means. In the end it’s not about them leaving but whether they return.

7. Lose It | pineapple_tea / @weighted-orange

Curly-haired Liam is a bit nervous about his first time bottoming (especially on camera). Luckily Zayn is there to take him through it.

6. Slow and High Tempo | zipplekink / @zipplekink

“I just want you, Liam,” Zayn whispers, skating his lips across his. “Can I?”

Liam’s lips part more as Zayn’s do, exhaling slightly as Zayn’s words sink in. He doesn’t understand what they mean, but he knows he meant it when he said Zayn could have anything he wants.
His eyes flicker open to stare up at Zayn’s dark ones, filled with a warmth that seems to consume Liam as he waits for him to respond. “Yeah, babe.”

5. to the edge i’ll race you | leighbot / @iamleighbot

If, during his freshman orientation, Zayn would have been told that he’d be spending the majority of his free time at Phi Kappa Sigma during the upcoming year he would have laughed and bet all of his money against it coming true.

Or, Liam has a surprise for Zayn. It might just scare him away.

4. Pride | iwanttowriteyouafic / @iwanttowriteyouafic 

(this fic is just sooo great and angsty and smutty and perfect)

“What if you guys were to come to some sort of arrangement?” Niall said. “Just a strictly, er, business-only deal, where you’d help each other out. You’re not close enough that it’d be weird, but you’re not strangers, either, so you know he won’t take advantage of you.”

“This is a really weird conversation,” Zayn told him. “I hope you know that.”

(Or the one where Zayn and Liam strike a deal to help each other through their dirtiest nights, but Zayn’s perception of alphas may be preventing him from something purer.)

3. these thought i keep, i want to share with you | zipplekink / @zipplekink 

(if you like angst and pining then this is the fucking fic for you, man) 

“Are you going to miss me when I’m gone?” Liam asks softly, rubbing his nose gently against Zayn’s. He teases, lips hovering over his but not making contact.

“Probably not,” Zayn jokes, nudging forward but Liam pulls away.

“Yeah,” he says, voice trailing off. “Have Griff, don’t ya?”

Zayn shakes his head slightly, eyes dropping to the slight tension in Liam’s jaw. He will miss him, when Liam goes back to his hometown for the summer, but it feels as if it is something he shouldn’t share. Especially when Liam will be in Wolver-Hampton with Jade, forgetting the moments like these that Zayn can’t seem to ever stop thinking about. “Not like that. You know that.”

2. Lego House | teaandtumblr / @danosphere91

(i can’t even tell you how many times i’ve re-read this fic. i love it so unbelievably much) 

He hadn’t knocked the house down on accident, he hadn’t accidentally stepped on it. No, he’d torn it apart, sent the pieces flying. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t fix it. Or at least, didn’t mean he couldn’t try.

1. The Killing Type | protagonist_m / @protagonist-m

(surprise, surprise. this literally might be my favorite fic of all time. it’s just amazing)

Liam breathes hotly through his nose, eyes twitching shut as he squeezes a bit more on Zayn’s neck. “Do you know how dangerous what you’re doing is?”

Zayn draws in his own ragged breath. “Do you?”

Zayn is a doctoral student who goes to great lengths to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Liam is heading the biggest serial murder investigation London has seen in half a century. And before this, he’d never been sent a love note via corpse.

So there’s the list! I hope you guys enjoy/enjoyed reading these as much as i did! Happy Reading and Happy 2017!

**honorable mentions: because i loved these ones a lot too 

Viva la Vida | iambluehead

Die Young, Stay Pretty | teaandtumblr

I have waited oh, so long (please don’t tell me baby I was wrong) | ziamismyotp 

I was having a hard time, and now i’m not.

For as long as I’ve identified as a witch, I thought I had trouble with ‘real’ magic. Spells didn’t come easy to me, I felt like my offerings and altars were wrong, that I was making some mistake that no one ever spoke about because every one else knew what not to do. And I suppose I was, but not exactly how I thought I was.


I was already doing magic, but not how I thought I wanted to.


My magic isn’t always mason jars filled with herbs, crystal points polished like mirrors, or billowing skirts and capes.


My magic is standing in my back yard looking for acorns in jeans and a tee shirt. Baking cookies from boxed mix for Loki. Potions from tea, emojis sent to myself over kik for spells, drawing sigils with my tablet. The comfort of silent spirits while I go about my daily life.


My spells are song lyrics from the radio, a playlist altar for my deities, wearing stone jewelry to job interviews.


Home made tarot cards that I ask about birthday gifts, a Supernatural ouija board with a glow in the dark planchette, sigils inspired by my favorite shows.


I was never doing it wrong, I just didn’t know I was doing it right.


Some days I still wish I was able to work deep in the woods, twigs in my long hair, black taffeta trailing behind me like smoke, a raven familiar by my side as I brew my potions in a real cauldron.


But then my black cat with a deformed leg will hobble inside, rubbing his head on me, and I’ll draw a sigil on my arm in gel pen, listening to a song that inspires my intent. That’s where my magic is.

Make Me Wanna.

Pairing: Bones x reader 

Titled: ‘Make Me Wanna.’ 

A/N: This was a request I received from @bkwrm523 so I hope this was what you were looking for. 

Warnings: Fluff, Bones feels. 

Tagging:   @aprofoundbondwithdean @bkwrm523 @feelmyroarrrr @imaginestartrek @ladyxdezi @bgarrow1013 @unsinkthetitanic @stargirlhorse @mysupernaturalfics @ivvitm1109 @blacktithe7 @sincerelysaraahh @mysteriouslyme81 @my-amazing-nerdyness @stargirlhorse @uss-lesbian @castielohcastiel @serenityspiral


Bones made you do a lot of things. There were a lot of things you wished you could do things that Bones made you want to do to him. Let’s not go into that shall we? You were worked directly underneath him as first nurse and he was your immediate supervisor. 

Keep reading

"It doesn't matter if I love you.. does it?" - Carl Grimes x Reader

Please do NOT reblog or re-post this. I spend time on these kinds of imagines, and I want you to respect that. Thank you.

You still recall how he mustered the courage and told you how he felt, how caring and loving he could really be. Just a few months ago, you made the decision to elude from the cruel world you dwelled within and meet a completely new part of life. You remember how happy you used to be when Carl developed a relationship with you and told that he ‘loved you’. You look back on the moment when you two shared an innocent lip lock, and then proceeded to become slightly bolder with one another. You had tendered him your heart and your love, and he did so equally. That was until Carl’s greed began leading him elsewhere, away from you. You still recall the words he exuded, and even if his voice was smooth and calming like dark chocolate, the meaning of them burned and etched your heart like biting acid.

‘I just don’t think we should see each other anymore.’ he said.

You should just get over it and move on.’

You still remember how your heart shrank back and cracked deeply, pounding weakly against your ears. The words were harsh and bit sharply at your stabbed feelings which ached painfully within your chest. Your lungs had shriveled and cut your air supply suddenly; even oxygen seemed bitter at that unforgettable moment.

Carl had been with Enid after he gave you the cold shoulder and left you, and the pain was unbearably vast as if it was an illness which spread gradually within your body and murdered you slowly. Those scattered pieces of your soul came and collected Michael, a newcomer within the welcoming community of Alexandria. The boy was around the age of Carl, just a few years older than you. Michael befriended you with friendly manners and was always sweet and kind to you; just like Carl. But, there was something different about him. He stood by your side patiently, waiting for you to become confident and spill the things tormenting your heart. You told him everything about Carl, how he left you that simply, as if he never felt a thing. After the consolation and comfort of Michael, you also began feeling warm toward him, just like he did. You are now what somebody would call a young couple, and you slowly begin recovering from the pain, but never getting over Carl. You have commenced avoiding him every time destiny brings your paths close, especially now that his new girlfriend is wrapped around his arm like a glove.

You are openly chatting with Michonne, feeling the aura around you cheerful and happy. After the Saviors’ fall, Rick made the decision to throw a small feast so that everybody could enjoy their long-abided triumph and drink a glass of wine in memory of the great people that gave their lives for their win.

You smile as the woman eyes you happily and kindly returns the affectionate sign. “I’ll see you later, yeah? After I get done with Rick’s nagging, I’m gonna be right back.” The dark-skinned woman jests with a bright smile, gently patting your shoulder.

“Okay. I hope to see you again, later,” You softly tell, your voice quiet and faltering as you speak. A small smile tickles your pink lips and you can’t help but show a full beam as you say your goodbyes. Your head turns and you exude a giggle as you watch Maggie gently cradling her child, with Michael offering his aid to her. The baby has Glenn’s remarkable eyes and owns Maggie’s delicate nose, as a sign that both of her parents will never be forgotten.

You approach with a small beam and Maggie’s mouth peels into a delightful smile as she sees you.

“You guys enjoying yourselves?” You joke gently, your eyes narrowing as a large grin overpowers your lips. Michael’s eyebrows raise with amusement as you draw closer, playing with the glass in your sweaty palms. He gives you a look, as if to ask if you’re okay and you bow your head with a reassuring smile. You faintly hear the baby nagging within Maggie’s embrace, and the woman sighs, gently cradling the child within her hug.

“Excuse me for a moment.. she’s just so stubborn.. just like her father.” Maggie quietly sighs, her half-smile falling flat as she recalls her husband. The woman withdraws, going somewhere private to hush her baby, her eyes visibly collecting with tears. You give Michael a sympathetic look and the boy leans forth, taking your hand in his. He runs his thumb over your sore knuckles and you faintly smile, laying your head against his shoulder, feeling a little dizzy from the hubbub all about. You let your eyes dance around like gleaming beads of glass and feel a small bit of warmth in your heart as you view the happiness enclosing around you. You consider yourself lucky that you didn’t bump into Carl in your way here. He must be around here, certainly. If the Sheriff’s son isn’t going to set foot in the feast his father put together, then who will?

You relax next to Michael and tediously glance about, watching the lights and the faces. As you imagined, Carl is here. He’s here, and his gaze is fixated upon you. You shift nervously, watching as he stands at the other end of the room with a glass in his hand. He seems angry, irked and somewhat irritated. You cold fingers lace with Michael’s and you bury your face against his shoulder, trying to ignore the young man eyeing you from a distance. Carl’s gaze is piercing and menacing; his eye is burning with blue flames that dance about wildly, raged and roused. What does he want from you? You can see his lips briefly moving as if he’s saying something and can view as his jaw locks and his eye squints, averting almost instantly.

“You okay, babe? Does your head hurt?” questions Michael gently, sensing your uncomfortable state. His eyebrows slant together in worry and you can’t help but show him a weak smile.

“Yeah, I.. I’m feeling a little dizzy. I’m gonna go home, okay, Mikey? I just want to relax a bit..” The boy nods at you and fondly kisses you on the head, lightly caressing your hair.

“Okay. Don’t worry about it, I’ll be there in a while, too. I’m just gonna see how Maggie’s doing.”

You tiredly smile at your company and let his hand go, waving wearily toward his direction. You house isn’t really far from the Grimes’ residence. You just stride for solid five minutes, your feet dragging you lazily as you venture forward. A sentiment of relief washes over your fatigued body as your house peers from behind the others, and you impatiently stumble forth, clambering up the timbered steps. You reach for the key in your pocket and clumsily unlock the door, feeling the warm aura of you house shower your skin as you step inside. Closing it behind you, you exude a long, loud groan, pressing your trembling hand against the wall of the couch which adorns your living room. You kick your shoes off, sighing with pure relief as you step on the wood freely, delving your fingers in the roots of your hair and messing it up.

“Did my presence really bother you that much?” A voice calls thickly from the corner of the room, echoing strongly within the four walls. Your shoulders flinch and your ears immediately recognize the throaty low; you can tell by the way he’s speaking his teeth are gritted and his jaws are clenched.

“What do you want, Carl?” Just testing the name brings a familiar bitterness at the back of your tongue, and your flushed face shrivels as your turn to glower at him. You eyebrows twitch slightly as you look at him; standing mutely with the company of the shadows. Carl seems a bit–no, very scary as you gradually observe him. You silently wonder if he’s going to drag that dagger from his belt and shove it in your throat; your mouth becomes dry as you watch him lift his head and look at you. However, your curiosity pushes you to get on his nerves, even if he looks like.. this.

“I really want to hear your shitty excuse about you breaking into my house.” You admit quietly and settle your arms on your hips, a sneer tugging at your mouth. Your words send his eyebrows up, and the young man’s pale eye broadens, but only slightly.

“Actually,” He rumbles, coughing purposely to clear his throat. “Actually, I wanted to talk.” The boy confesses, slowly emerging from the shadows and approaching you. He looks serious, completely serious, and that’s what scares you the most. His eye looks at your glowing face every now and then, as if it’s seeking for something.

“O..kay.” You concede lowly, your heart slamming rhythmically beneath your ribs. “W, what about?” You falter, your hands briefly shaking as you listen to his words.

“About us.”

“Us? Carl there is no ‘us’. Not anymore. You made sure of that.” You hiss behind your teeth, your eyes burning with an angry dolor. “You ended it. You hurt me. What else do you want so that you’ll be fucking satisfied?”

The words roll off your tongue on their own; you don’t get the chance to consider them before spilling uncontrollably. Carl lowers his head, biting on his rosy lip as he feels his eye welling up with tears.

“It’s just.. I don’t know, (Y/n). I really..I really fucking miss you.”

Your bottom lip quivers, but you shake your head, refusing to get hurt again.

“Oh- that’s great- now you’re feeling things? Where the hell were these tears when I was begging you to stay with me– now that I’m walking away, now you have the audacity to cry? Do me the favor, Carl, and don’t fuck this up for me. I’m.. I’m happy..you’re happy. If you love her, Carl, go back to her. Why do you have to destroy me again like this?” Carl’s expression changes into a tight-lipped frown and his fingers curl into clenched fists as he hears the sadness ghosting over your trembling voice. He has caused all this, all your depression and fading anger. Your eyes lock for a moment, and your lips briefly fall from one another as you sense it; You never really stopped loving him. He never stopped loving you either. It’s almost as if you’re telepathic and can feel one another’s emotions. You almost get lost in his remorseful gaze, but avert your eyes with a broken laugh.

“You know what’s the problem with you? It’s that you don’t know what you want, you just can’t decide, can you? Even if you’re sorry, Carl, nothing’s gonna change anything. I..I have something great going on with Michael. I don’t want to lose that..not again.” You’re panting by now, your lungs filling and exhaling rapidly as you stare at him with a look that expresses sheer pain.

“I want you..” You begin with a whimper, fidgeting with your cold, short fingers. “I.. I want you to go.”

Carl’s brows furrow at your words, and the young man scoffs as he takes a stride closer to you.

“You don’t love him.” Blurts Carl bitterly, as if he’s comforting his own self. His heart feels weak as it beats within his chest, desperately hoping you’ll agree with his idiotic words.

“You don’t know how I feel! Michael.. he has made me happy. You should just get over it and move on! You remember that, don’t you? You said it yourself, after all.”

Carl’s innards shrivel painfully at the words, and the young man clouds his expression with a depressed frown. Your answer stabs sharply at his aching heart, and he can suddenly feel how shit he made you feel when he talked so harshly and made your skin crawl. He still recalls that expression your face had when he told you these foul words; your wide eyes red and full with pained tears, your cheeks flushed and wet with water, your lips trembling as you tried to stutter something in retort. He left you like that, your poor body shaking wholly as you heard the door behind him slam. And then, silence. That’s exactly how he felt. He thought he was about to cry, but he sucked in a deep breath and stared at you with pure disbelief, biting down at his quivering lip to cease the tears from falling. He still remembers your tired smile, how your eyes would gleam with happiness every time you would look at him, how your comfort was the sheer medicine he needed. Carl missed that. He missed you, all of you. Now, he had screwed up, and lowered his head, refusing to accept that he had let you slip from his hands just like that.

“I.. I really loved you, Carl. I r-really fucking loved you. B-but that wasn’t enough for you, I get it. That’s okay. Now it’s over, anyway.” You bite your red lips, cursing yourself as you let a tear roll down your cheek.

“Please.. don’t say that.” Carl stammers half-heartedly, carefully approaching you. You flinch as he slowly takes a hold of your hand, and your eyes grow huge as your fingers lock together. He almost forgot how soft your hands felt, even if they were weary and carried uncountable scars on their tormented complexion. Carl laughs weakly at himself for an instant and shakes his head vigorously, his wooly tresses brushing against the sides of his face as he mutters to himself incoherently. The aura around you is stale and heavy, and time seems to stop its’ pass for a moment and just shatter all around you. You don’t find anything to say, so you just stand there like a gleaming statute of ice, your hand in his. Carl lifts his eye and looks at you, somewhat hopeful and hopeless, all at the same.

“It doesn’t matter if I love you.. does it?” You stare in disbelief, eyes clouded with broken, forgotten feelings. Bullshit.

“You don’t love me, Carl. You don’t love me- you never loved me– because you don’t destroy the things you love!” You haul your hand away, feeling your legs carrying you rearwards. Your eyes tingle potently as you glare at him, your face withered and wilted. Carl’s eye flinches and stares at you with woe, his heart pounding his eardrums with an untamable rhythm. The expression he wears shows that he is hurt– deeply hurt and let down. Before he can utter another word, you elevate your voice sharply, your voice low and throaty as it echoes within the four walls of the room.

Leave. Get out of my house. I don’t.. I can’t, Carl. Get out, because this is not going to end well..”

Carl remains silent, considering his next moves very, very carefully. The young man strides unto you, his footsteps booming as he ventures to strut past you and leave. But, that doesn’t happen. Carl hooks his fingers around your wrist and hauls you toward him, his unrestrained arm bolting firmly around your waist. You don’t do anything, you don’t have the time to. His mouth locks with yours, and your breath leaps to your throat, unsteady and briefly confused. Your eyes quail as you instantly recognize his hold on you, his gentle warmth, those godforsaken lips. You really give in for a moment, closing your weary eyes and taking it all in, knowing that you’re never going to feel that again. How your body shivers and raises goosebumps, how his hair lightly pecks your forehead, how his lips wrap around yours and fit as if perfectly. You feel slightly light-headed, but your brain snaps you back into reality and you immediately bring your shaky arms and push him away.

Your mouths pop with a hardly audible sound, lips reddened and eyes heavily hooded. You pant softly, but quickly regain your breath and calm your thwacking chest. You resist saying ‘screw it’ and the succulent notion of leaning up to kiss him again, and try to form a sentence, anything to break the inflammatory aura enclosing around you.

“Stop this, Carl! Just.. just..” Before you can finish what you have left to say, you can hear the front door opening from behind you and your heart hops to your mouth as you turn around and look with nervous eyes. Michael is standing there, and his wide smile falls flat once he sees the young man opposite you. The boy’s brown eyes squint as they glare at Carl, and his jaw locks suddenly. He makes it loud and clear that he loathes the Sheriff’s son, even if he doesn’t say anything; however, his reactions do.

“Hey, Mike. What’s up, man?” Carl respires breathily, jamming his hands at his front pockets. You approach Michael’s side, mouthing him gentle words and pleading him to not commence an abrupt fight. You fondle his shoulder, and your words seem a blur as his eyes dance between your fond face and Carl’s cold expression. The two males trade harsh looks and glares; the only thing that barricades their abided, foul mouthfuls of profanities is you standing between them. You try and act carefully, telling Michael that he doesn’t need to worry, but you also can’t ignore Carl’s sharp gaze burning cavities all over your back.

“Mikey, Carl was just passing by; he wanted to tell me something. He’s leaving now.” Carl’s expression slightly falters as your discourse settles an extra weight on his heart, but his incisive glare remains as he breathes out hotly from his mouth.

“Yeah, I was just leaving,” says Carl, his boots clattering and booming against the wood below as he strides forth to reach the door. His blue eye shoots an evident leer at you; a look that’s you try to not take notice of. As the young man passes beside Michael, he is stopped as the brown-eyed lad slams his hand on his shoulder, his pupils dilated with visible ire.

“If I catch you around my girlfriend again, I’ll tear your throat out, alright, Grimey? We’re gonna discuss this tomorrow. Like men.” The blue in Carl’s eye rages furiously as he shoves Michael’s hand from his arm, and he remains completely silent, jamming the boy’s shoulder as he struts by moodily and goes to the door. The young man shows you a last, empty expression before he uncorks the door and slams it behind him, making the door whack against its’ frame.

You flinch slightly at the loud sound, and feel as Michael gently grasps your hand, faintly squeezing it in his. You look up at the boy’s eyes and smile briefly, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“The asshole didn’t do anything, did he?” He questions huskily, eyeing you over as worry swims within his devoted eyes. You give a small giggle, shaking your head lightly at his cute expression.

“I’m okay, Mikey. Don’t worry. Let’s go to bed , now, yeah?” Michael nods his head at your suggestion, offering a sheepish smile as he slides and arm around your waistline and smooches your tresses. Your heart is beating vividly beneath your ribs and slamming loudly against your eardrums, but, somehow, it’s not because of your boyfriend. Your mind is still keen on Carl, and how delirious he looked. You still recall his sweet kiss and those carnal lips, and sigh, nipping at the inside of your cheek as you feel your heart flutter within your sternum. You shouldn’t be thinking of him. You shouldn’t, but you are. You shake your head, pursuing after Michael blindly as you try to wash off the notion. Carl can’t be serious.

However, you have no idea how serious Carl was being before. He stands outside your house, his dark, boyish silhouette outstanding as the pallid moonlight lathers the side of his form. His sharp eye is keen your window, and the young man exhales fervently as he watches the light close abaft the silky curtain. His intense frown breaks by a twisted, stretched smile, and the boy grins deucedly, gripping the handle of the dagger held in his belt. He drags the large blade from its’ sheath and examines it with his slender fingers, biting his lip to beat his wide, crazed smile. The only thing he can imagine is shoving the blade in Michael’s stomach; just letting him bleed out in torment until his vision reflects black.

“Your girlfriend, huh, Mikey?”mutters Carl beneath his hot breath, his eye twitching slightly, as if maddened. “Yeah, man. We’ll see ‘bout that.”

Jumin Han Fic Chapter 5

HOLAAAA BABIES~ So please don’t hate me because I released this SUPER late. It’s a short one and personally not a favorite, but I finished chapter 6 as well and it will be released this Sunday after a few finishing touches. Please show this post and yo gurl some loooove and reblog/like/follow. MKAY THANKS
Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4

It had been over a week, ten days to be exact. Jumin had not seen the girl, he was at least looking forward to seeing her in class, but she missed both meeting days. Surely that would have quenched his need, hydrated his curiosity for her, his growing affection for her. He felt restless, he was a bit worried but more than that he simply wanted to see her. Again, this need for foreign to him; not once did he feel like this before. He was becoming desperate and made up his mind, he would see her once and then that was it. After that, he would go back to normal right?

He took his phone out and begun dialing. “Hello hello, thank you for calling Defender of Justice, agent 707, how can I help you Mista Trust Fund Kid, its quite rare for you to call me.”

“Luciel, please be serious, I need your help finding someone. She is my classmate and I need her address, her name is MC.” Jumin said, instantly regretting that he called Luciel.

“WOAAAAH. YOU? LOOKING FOR A GIRL? I guess Jumin Han does NOT gay? Who knew?” the hacker replied, laughing hysterically.

Jumin pinched the bridge of his nose, “What have I become,” he thought to himself. “Please be serious Luciel, don’t make me regret calling you. Can you do it or will I have to find other means?”

“Of course I can find her, but what’s in it for me huh?  I want to see my Elly~” Luciel chirped.

Jumin was willing, but surely he could not sacrifice his beloved Elizabeth to the hacker’s mangy hands. He needed to see this girl, though. He could feel his heart tightening simply from the lack of seeing her face. He pined for more. “Fine, you may see Elizabeth the 3rd for 90 minutes but Assistant Kang must be present and so will three bodyguards. I will have them shoot you at even the slightest sign of abuse. Got it?” Jumin replied irritably.  

“Wow, you must really like this girl huh? Well, while we were bartering I found her and her address. At least I know you have nice taste, who knew you would be into foreign girls huh?” Luciel said sounding awestruck. “Her address is XXX 5Xth Street, be safe~ GOD SEVEN OUT.” Like that, the eccentric man was gone.  

Jumin immediately called Driver Kim and gave him the address. He sat in the car, once again admiring the scenery of the city. He thought about how easily he had sacrificed Elizabeth the 3rd and tried reassuring himself that this girl was worth it. Deep down, he knew, she most definitely was.

“GUYS PLEASE CALM DOWN.” MC was shouting at the top of her lungs. She was at her wit’s end and felt like ripping her hair out. “We will not be doing any more activities if you cannot behave.”

Her three younger brothers and younger sister looked at her as if she had just said that the world was ending, and sat down immediately. She laughed to herself, thinking about how absolutely adorable her younger siblings were when she heard a knock at the door.

“Ugh who on earth could that be, I swear to god if it’s another Jehovah’s witness…” she walked to the front door, trying to wipe that paint off of her face and dust her clothes off. “Listen, buddy we’re not int-“ she was rendered speechless at the sight of the corporate heir standing in front of her.

“What on earth are you doing here?” she asked, still in disbelief that he stood in front of her. He cleared his throat, and fiddled with his tie, looking visibly uncomfortable. “You hadn’t shown up to class this week, so as a courtesy I brought you some notes. I believe a thank you is in the works? Or do you commons simply not use that word?”

She rolled her eyes and was about to tell him exactly where he could put his notes and entitled attitude when her two younger brothers and peeked from behind her. “OOOH who’s that your boyfriend?” they asked teasingly.

She laughed and was about to deny it when she noticed that Jumin was blushing profusely. She couldn’t help but find it adorable that he was so flustered with their teasing, it was a bit…cute.

“Mister, can you come inside and help me? I need to finish my art project and someone has to color” MC’s younger brother grabbed his finger and began dragging him inside.

“Wait you can’t do that, he has to get back to his work, right Jumin?”

He gazed at her for a while, before walking into her home and sitting in between the kids. “Well, I guess he is joining us.” MC thought to herself. She was looking at him; he looked so out of place with his 3-piece suit in her home. Suddenly she felt self-conscious, “He probably is thinking that my place is a dump. On top of that, I look like shit, with my tattered t-shirt and sweatpants.” A million thoughts were running through her head, but she looked at him, and he was being extremely genuine with the kids, trying his hardest to help with their art project. Her heart skipped a beat, she loved seeing him interact with her siblings. “Maybe I’ve been too harsh on him, he actually doesn’t seem like a bad guy.”

She walked over to the kids and the corporate heir and sat down. She watched him, as he listened intently to the kid’s stories, and gave advice seriously as if this was a business meeting and they were his clients. She laughed to herself, finding this entire odd situation so adorable, she thought she was dreaming. He glanced at her at the sound of her laugh and gave her a soft look with a small smile.

Sure, she had known that he was handsome, but until this moment she never felt attracted to him. The small smile was so genuine and sweet, she could feel her heart skip a beat when she noticed him trying to stifle a yawn.

“I wanted to apologize for being dragged in by the kids, you seem tired too, are you alright?” MC asked, trying to create small talk to slow the rapid pace of her heart.

“Ah yes, I anticipated that I was going to visit today, so I had to complete all of my work yesterday, causing me to lose some sleep. A few clients also called early in the morning to try rescheduling meetings which interrupted my sleep as well,” he answered robotically.

“But aren’t you the heir? You’re promised the company, why are you putting in so much effort?” MC asked, genuinely confused. She knew that if she was promised a multi-million dollar corporation she would definitely take it easy.

He chuckled, “Yes it may be true that I was born into a great opportunity, and I am very fortunate for that. However, I have to work twice as hard, I have to prove to everyone that I am not just a figurehead, that I was not simply handed this position because of who I am related to.”

She looked into his steely gray eyes in admiration. She felt a pang of guilt, for being so rude to him, when he clearly had been working so hard. She was going to apologize when all four of her siblings grabbed onto his arm, her younger sister whispered something into his ear. He blushed and simply nodded, sending the kids squealing. Confused, she demanded the kids clean up and get ready for dinner.

“Would you like to stay for dinner? It may not be some five-star restaurant food but it doesn’t taste so bad? We can have some coffee afterward too?” she asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious again.

“Yes I would love to , thank you MC.” He replied glibly as he stood to wash his hands.

She didn’t bother replying. She turned around briskly, “what on earth is wrong with me? Why am I acting all shy and happy because he’ staying for dinner? Good god, if I am turning into one of those annoying bitches at school seriously, smite me right now.” She began setting the table, thinking deeply about how the day was turning out, trying to deny how fast her heart was racing.

Deep Star Trek TOS Asks
  • Kirk: Tell me about a time you had to take a leadership role.
  • Spock: What kind of sacrifices have you made for others?
  • Uhura: Talk about the moment you were the most proud of yourself.
  • Bones: Describe your closest relationships.
  • Sulu: What is your relationship like to the world around you?
  • Chekov: How do you support your friends?
  • Scotty: Talk about a time you succeeded (or failed) in fixing a major problem.
  • Chapel: What have you gained, or what consequences have you faced, from pursuing your passions?
  • Rand: How do you stay positive in bad situations?
  • Enterprise: Tell me when/where you felt most at-home, like you belonged.
  • Khan: Tell me about a person you would do anything to protect.
  • Corbomite: What's the worst lie you've ever told?
  • Deneva: Have you ever lost a loved one? How did you grieve?
  • Empath: Talk about the time you needed someone the most. Did they come through for you?
  • Psi 2000: What are you really like, under everything?
  • Horta: What do you do when you feel lonely and isolated?
  • Talos IV: What would you do if someone you loved betrayed you?
  • Organia: How do you react when you're proven wrong?
  • Farragut: Has something ever happened to you that you just can't let go?
  • Shore Leave: Describe your ideal life.

anonymous asked:

Am I the only one who hates yuuki more after this chapter?

I feel like if I don’t answer you all will keep giving me variations of how done you are with Yuuki lol -quietly snickers-

I’m going to be quite frank here since I’ve made my irritation over Yuuki really clear for years. I mean I even had an ask a little while ago criticizing if I ‘hate’ Yuuki so much why do I make edits of her lol. So, to give my honest opinion, yeah I’ve always had a love/hate over Yuuki, and I’ve reblogged @soulisthirsty‘s post(s) because she’s expressed my exact sentiment on how I’ve felt towards Yuuki for years, which is that I believe a lot of us hold a certain level of contempt towards Yuuki’s actions but can still empathize/sympathize with her–of course, not since the recent chapter as much. However, despite how this chapter vilified Yuuki and everyone has gone to give up all hope for Yuuki whatsoever, I can still sympathize/empathize with her even if it’s struggling to do so with how cruel it seems she’s being towards Zero.  [’it seems’ because that’s the purpose of the current narrative so far.]

The irony is that this chapter didn’t really change my feelings for Yuuki because I became aware of how selfish she had always been a long while ago. That’s why I blew up ages ago and had left for a time. While everyone retrained hope for Yuuki to overcome her problems, I lost it a long time ago because I realized how bad Hino screws over her female characters and she is unable to write them.

So, to further explain, I’ve developed a hatred to Yuuki’s characterization/progression because I had this speculation that she had waited for so long to become an official couple with Zero out of her selfishness, her lack of sense or awareness, and her naivety to ask for help through her issues, and yes, even despite also being a victim of abuse and needing recovery she had these horrid generalized character flaws. And even as a victim of abuse, Hino doesn’t display Yuuki as a victim recovering from an abusive relationship, she’s still pandering to a romanticize version about yume and that is one of the many thorns in our sides about Yuuki’s characterization/Hino’s writing. 

Anyway, can I be wrong about my speculation when Hino finally reveals Yuuki’s issues? Possibly, but it still stands when Yori was given the same problem of selfishness that Yuuki is seemingly displaying. As a flaw, I’m fine with a bit of selfishness in characters, but I’m not tolerant towards a certain type of selfishness that highly affects those around you, that the decisions you’re making are hurting or will hurt those you love and you’re aware of it but ignoring it. It grates me the wrong way and I can’t stand it. And if you notice, it’s in Hino’s female characters. [Kaname is the only one that fits these criteria besides the girls, but he’s glorified to be a saint which isn’t helping Hino’s case.] The internalized misogyny is pissing me off but I digress.  

Now, it’s unsurprising to me that Yuuki made Zero wait, we already knew that but what surprised me was Hino setting this chapter up in a way to withhold from Yuuki’s thoughts and feelings yet again because she is obviously building Yuuki up to be our new Kaname of VKM to hate her actions but eventually she’ll be redeemed and understood [lol good luck Hino, power to you, I guess.] Whether she’ll be successfully characterized is to be determined when VKM is all said and done. 

I’m more annoyed we have to wait until the end of this series to truly see results in Yuuki to progress from her problems when we’ve waited for her to have an uprising development from her regression/stagnation all through arc two, arc three, and nine chapters of VKM. At this point, Yuuki hasn’t even hit rock bottom anymore, she’s not even in a limbo state, she’s gone beyond rock bottom and has shot down to hell and has been carrying out her limbo there with little to no positive progression to her recovery. IT’s BEEN 52 CHAPtERS IN tOTAL ANd YuuKI HASN’T CHARACTER PROGRESSED. HINO WTFFFFF FR U DOING ANYMORE FIX UR HEROINE OR SO HELP ME.

So, anons, dears, you’re never alone about that, ever. lol However, nothing changed truly for me this chapter except a frustration for the lack of Yuuki character progression to her problems and the lack of Zeki overcoming issues that had been set up from the original series plus dealing with them before they got together. 

And sure, Hino has set things up this chapter, but she’s been setting things up for 93 chapters + 9 extras and has yet gotten to the final tension of the series: When will Yuuki express and acknowledge her feelings and define her type of love to either man through HER voiced words by her own admission. Seriously this dodging of an answer for 10+ years has been an annoying scar we all haven’t been unable to heal from.    

vennstiel reblogged your photoset and added:

Funny, it’s always seemed like the demons know when their eyes change. They seem to do it on purpose, so it always felt like a safe assumption that you’d know, now that I think about it.

Yes, that’s true. I wonder how your vision changes from the inside, with black eyes? Is it like a black film over everything or do you see things more clearly/brightly (like your eyes are all pupil) or or or… Anyway still, I think it’s a bit much for Dean to assume that Sam would have instantly recognised that sensation for what it was on its first occurrence, hahaha

rubyreddemise  asked:

💜💙💛 what the heck, go for broke right?

AAAH HEY YOU 

Okay a vague thing about someone 💜  - There’s a writer that I follow and admire a lot. I’ve seen a couple people post some kind of “senpai noticed me” things when I like or reblog posts of theirs because I adore their work… this individual is totally my “senpai” person, as far as writing goes.

💙 - Confession. Um…I still think about a person I felt very strong feelings for a long time ago. Not because I wish to try rekindling what relationship or lack thereof we had…I just wonder sometimes how they’re doing, where their life went. 

💛 - Okay listen here, you’re friggin great. You’re one of the people that made me adore Prompto and you’re such a massive sweetheart and I enjoy talking to you, watching your RPs…Also you’re a fantastic writer. <3 I’m so glad you’re around.

@thestonesofsteven 

There had been a few dresses that had been wonderful for mobility but they had clashed with her willingness to wear them. Fitted clothing worked back in theory to keeping mobility. Too much fabric got in the way, something Sapphire knew from experience now. Though a few of the fitted ones had felt what she suspect it was like inside a Metapod’s cocoon. The few occasions she’d worn a suit had gone much better. Something about the lack of being immodest when having to chase someone down was refreshing too. Not that she worried in the heat of the moment about those details. After when the questions started to roll in, it was hard not to recall every misstep.


The kind of look on his face was new and she wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. Mostly she wondered what had made him smile at her like that. It was enough to get her feeling a little flustered over this much. But in a good way. it was nice if a little too much. A kiss only but her feeling even warmer than before. “Then they’re terrible dates if they think like that and I’ll be happy to hit them for their dates.” Steven should know her well enough to know she’d do exactly that too. “But..thank you.” Sapphire did look down shyly for the compliment, not quite able to help this sort of reaction still.

On ‘Privilege Chess’

I mentioned previously in a reblog as well as my post on Thought Policing, that being inside the SJW community made me feel largely like I was a pawn on a very large game of moral chess.

It is something the community demanded out of me, and ultimately drove to me demanding it out of my peers. My about page was thoroughly detailed of my identity, my mental problems and illnesses, and to a point where at one time I felt the pressure to surrender information about sexual abuse I had endured. This being all information I would never have thought to surrender to a stranger on the street, or someone on a forum topic somewhere, in order to gain the “permission” to speak my opinion.

I had began to think about it upon seeing a humorous tweet, which I’ve lost the source of now, but more or less mocked this culture by comparing the details we need to surrender to things like our social security numbers and credit card pins. And it was the first time the absurdity of feeling pressured to give up information about such sensitive, private topics, in order to feel … safe, actually was.

And now my existence, something I could not readily control, was simplified, refined, as a tool, a label, a handle to use me in a discussion against my will. I no longer was a complex, living creature, with an interweaving web of complexities that came upon from my means of existence and personal life long experiences. I was forced into a cookie-cutter existence, and any bit of myself that did not fit these labels were either discarded… or defined as something else entirely.

While still deep inside the toxic circles of the SJW community, I began to liken my daily experiences online in the blogosphere as a game of chess. I would often refer to my own about page, and other’s. Did my preened, simplified and defined set of labels allow me to produce a checkmate for those I argued against? Sometimes, it did, but many times, I was defeated by the simple fact that the other’s labels outpaced mine in the oppression olympics. Never mind the fact I was disabled, had PTSD, was trans, etc. If one label was lesser than another’s label, I could be trumped, and ultimately my experiences and opinions never mattered at all.

And as this culture evolved, as this culture progressed and spiraled in on itself, I began to see people trumping other people based on vary vague labels they either attribute, without actually asking the person in question, or gleam from a quick glance on their blog.

The amount of times I’ve seen things said like “This post has good points but the OP is a ____ so it probably should be discarded.” Even if the post had nothing to do with the “sin” designated to them. The mere fact that the OP was deemed something undesirable immediately doomed them to a silent holding cell labeled with their ‘crimes’, and were no longer considered a person to be reasoned with, if even a person at all.

And it’s interesting to compare this behavior to racism and xenophobia. When discussing of certain groups of people one cannot relate to, generalizing terms are used to distance the group of people from humanity, and humanity is usually always defined by who is othering the outsiders.

And this post and understanding has absolutely nothing to do with my personal opinions, values and beliefs. But to silence someone based on vague definitions of projected “sins”, is to deny their existence as a sentient being. I’ve seen this dehumanization time and time again, people eager to discard the complex experiences of someone’s life, often times experiences that cannot be defined easily by a handful of labels, and certainly not a single one.

This continued blinding of ourselves and our peers in the SJW community only lead to a lot of confusion, and severe bouts of cognitive dissonance, the word used to describe the distress stemming from holding two incompatible ideas. Ideas like, “This point is good, but… the OP is evil. So is this post really good? Am I actually evil for agreeing with them?”

Silencing is such a choice tactic for heavily Ideological cultures as it’s not very hard to teach a person to begin to silence themselves.

“A Rose By Any Other Color” : Pokeshipping, part one

Disclaimer - Of course, I don’t own anything! I’m just your average shipaholic klepto!


Author - Warlordess


Notes - I have been feeling very uninspired to write lately… I’ve had less than zero ideas… but I came up with this one tonight while I was shutting down my department at my job… What if I took a well-known line/moment from another OTP and applied it to this one? That being said, I’d love to thank the writers who made Drew such a butt because, without his stupid rose line, I wouldn’t have felt this wave of inspiration I’ve so desperately been in need of!


(I hope nobody hurts me for stealing this moment and forcing it onto Ash and Misty!)

Chapter two can be read here!

OoOoO


Title - “A Rose By Any Other Color” / part one


Summary - … Would not have nearly the same effect on them. Either of them. What the heck has Ash gotten himself into? Pokeshipping!


OoOoO


He can’t explain it, but he’s had to pump himself up quite a lot to come this far.


It’s the first time in quite awhile that he’s had enough free time to visit his friends around the Kanto region. Usually he has just long enough to stop at home for a couple of days, see how his mom is doing, celebrate with her over his latest placement in the League, visit Professor Oak’s lab to check up on his Pokemon, and then research wherever he’ll be wandering off to next.


But the unforeseen free time has given him an opportunity he hadn’t previously had the chance to take advantage of.


“Oh, Ash? You’re back already, huh? Sorry, I’m still cleaning the…” his redheaded friend, Misty, falters after taking into account his preoccupied hands. “Wait, what’s that?” she asks him, earnestly curious of his intentions.


His nerves are set afire again, his unexplainable anxiety threatening to take complete hold over him. The whole thing was supposed to be real quick and simple… He couldn’t understand why it seemed so awfully complicated and confusing!


“Oh, uh, this?” he replies innocently, holding up the bouquet he’d bought from a local floral vendor. “Yeah, sorry - I mean, uh, here you go!” And he tosses them into her arms, causing her to drop the mop she’d been previously using to clean the arena floor.


“I - I’m - I mean, I don’t…” she rambles on, face flushing furiously at this sudden event taking place between them. She’d known for a long time of course that Ash would someday (maybe, hopefully) come around and finally understand how he felt about her but she hadn’t noticed the time had come to pass already. There had been no indicators since her best friend had first arrived the day before that he’d managed to bridge the gap of his own romantic unintelligence…


“Oh, wait! Right! I guess I should explain!”


“Yeah,” the redhead says cautiously, “I guess you should.”


“Well, it’s not a big deal. Those roses are for Gyarados.”


Keep reading

“You’re Beautiful”

Ashton Pregnancy One Shot 

Being 8 months pregnant had it’s ups and downs. Don’t get me wrong, I was in love with the fact that I would be having a son and I was so excited to become a mother, and have Ashton by my side. But there were days that I felt everything but small, especially with media and cameras following me constantly. I had a routine check up this afternoon and Ash made reservations for lunch. I loved days like this, we could both relax and enjoy each other. I threw on a white floral blouse that had lace on the arms, with light relaxed blue jeans, and light brown ankle boots with a little bit of a heel. My hair was loosely curled and I had a little bit of make up on, nothing too much. I felt comfy for the most part. I knew that the paps would be following us to the appointment and out to lunch, and that the whole world would see me through pictures on social media. I’ve tried to explain to Ashton before that theres days where I’d rather just stay in bed and be comfortable behind the walls of my house, but I don’t think he understands sometimes. “Y/N I’m almost ready I just need about 5 more minutes!!” Ashton yells from the bathroom. I could feel the anxiety hit me. Thats something I’ve struggled with, especially since getting pregnant, and I knew it wasn’t good for me or the baby with being so close to my due date. I took another look in the mirror and just lost it. I’ve never felt so disappointed in myself with how I look. Before I knew it Ashton had his arms wrapped around me, both hands placed on my swollen belly, and his head on my shoulder whispering “Shhh” in my ear. I felt so stupid for crying all of the time to Ashton, sometimes about the stupidest things like running out of bread or ice cream, or almost hitting a squirrel while driving, but he always there to cheer me up and take care of me- no matter what. “Whats wrong baby?” He broke the silence. “I just feel disgusting. I feel like a whale. I hate going outside, everyone takes pictures of me and posts rude things and I don’t want to deal with it today” I knew how stubborn and irrational I sounded, but I didn’t care. I could feel him crack a smile against my neck, “Well Y/N I’m not sure if you know this or not… but you are 8 months pregnant, I think it would be unhealthy if you didn’t gain any weight.” He always had a way of bringing sarcasm into everything. That was part of his charm, and that’s one of the many reasons I fell in love with him. “I know Ash, I know. It’s just hard sometimes. I get so overwhelmed and I hate it.” “Babe theres no need for you to feel that way. You’re carrying a baby, our baby. Let people say what they, but don’t let anyone take this from you. Enjoy it hun, you’re not going to relive this, well of course unless you get pregnant again, but that’s not the point” He laughed as he turned me around to face him. His hands rested on the curve of my hips, and he tilted his head down to meet mine. “I love you so much and I never want you to feel ugly, fat, or disgusting. You’re none of that. You’re my wife and I’m so excited for this next journey in life with you. ” He tilted his head up and brought one of his hands under my chin to meet his gaze, “You’re beautiful” he breathed out before meeting his lips with mine, pulling me into a long passionate kiss. “Now lets get going before we’re late”.

Tourniquet

A/N: Hello, lovelies. I know this is relatively short-ish. The dress that my sister designed for the reader will be seen in the next chapter instead of this one. It is action packed! I was in a rush to get this out to you guys, so if you like it:

Like this. Reblog it. Message me. What do you want to see next?

Pain.

That was the only thing you could properly process. Pain flowed through every part of your body that you could think of. You head felt as if it had been brutally punched in. You’re skin felt raw, hot, and uncomfortable. Your throat burned as if you had swallowed fire. You had tried to open your eyes, but the light burned and you cried out instead. You heard the sound of footsteps rushing towards you before the feeling of a hand being placed on your shoulder. You quickly realized that the skin there was bare and you screamed as the hot hand only made your scorching skin hotter. Your screaming only made the burning in your throat worse than before. You thought you had died. If this was how you were to live the rest of your life, you didn’t want this.

“(Y/N), we need you to settle down, miss,” a woman’s voice said. The tone of it was oddly comforting as you struggled to get away from the hand on your skin.

“Get your hand off of me!” You growled. The hand was slowly removed and you felt your body writhe in an effort to find some form of comfort. Did you survive hellfire? Why was every movement so painful?

“We will need you to calm down in order to treat your injuries,” the woman said.

“What injuries?” You asked, your eyes fighting to open themselves. You glared at the harsh light that surrounded your eyes but forced yourself to not close your eyes again. The room slowly began to clear.

The woman who had been speaking to you was the first thing that you could truly see. Her hair was cut in a short, tidy bob. Her hair was a dark, dull blonde and her eyes were a bright green. Her skin was a pale blue color. You spent a small amount of time concentrating on your breathing, trying to calm down as you analyzed her attire. A pure white outfit with black boots. If her skin had been a nude shade, she might have blended in with the environment. The entire atmosphere was white and cold. You could feel the iciness of the room despite the heat that radiated off of your skin. You looked down at your body to see a loose, make shift dress that was obviously used for patients.

Your skin was red and there was no other way you could describe it. There was no skin color in the galaxy that you had seen that matched the color your saw on you own body. The burning in your throat increased as you tried to swallow whatever saliva was in your mouth, but you only coughed roughly. The woman in front of you, be her a nurse or a doctor, moved away from you and grabbed a small glass of water and placed it in your hands. You felt your eyes almost water at the sight of the glass. You brought the glass to your lips in a rush, the cool liquid running down your throat. It had a burning effect as it touched the rawness of your trachea, but you didn’t mind it too much. The nurse stared at you for a moment, assessing your every move.

“Miss, your injuries are from you near death from heat stroke,” she told when she saw that you had somewhat calmed down. “You were on the brink of dehydration when our soldiers found you on Jakku.”

“I’m not on Jakku?” You asked, but you knew that the question was a rather dumb one.

“No, miss,” the woman confirmed. “You have been brought to a medical center aboard a ship upon the discovery of your body. We have treated your dehydration, but we will need to get you into a medicinal bath. The bath will help take the redness and irritation out of your skin.”

“What ship am I on?” You asked.

You answer came in the form of the door to the medical room opening. You turned your head away from the anxious woman in front of you to see a man in all black clothing with three Stormtroopers behind him. One of the troopers was wearing silver armor instead of the regular white, with a cape over their left shoulder. The other two Stormtroopers looked like any other that you had seen, but you thought that was the point of uniformity. If the Stormtroopers were not enough to give you a hint on what kind of ship you were on, the man in front of them certainly did. Though he was clad in all black, he had a red sigil that you had grown to outrun and fight against. His red hair and dark blue eyes were almost unsettling as they looked over your body.

“Gentlemen,” You said, your voice rough from the near dehydration. “Do we have a problem here?”

“You must be the girl he has been looking for,” the man said, ignoring your question. He waved his fingers towards you and the two white troopers approached you. You felt your body tense up unpleasantly. You bit the inside of your cheek, deciding to ignore his statement.

“If there isn’t a problem,” you continued, sliding your body off of the bed. “I would lie to have my belongings returned. I have important business to attend to. I do hope you understand.”

You pushed the woman out of the way so that she wouldn’t be harmed. It was your way of saying ‘thanks for saving my life’ despite the fact that she worked for the First Order. You knew that the Stormtroopers would be quick to subdue you after you had pushed the medic out of the way. You immediately targeted the right side of the first Stormtrooper that made their advance towards you. You could tell that they had favored the left side of their body because most of their weapons were made available to that side. You had grabbed their left hand, swirling your body underneath their arm and turning their back to face you. Their arm was twisted behind their back and you kicked them in the lower back. You heard their voice cry out as you managed to pop their arm out of socket and sent them flying away from you. You anticipated the other Stormtrooper’s next move and ducked before their fist could come in contact with your face. You used your momentum from your duck to use your elbow to hit him in his ribcage. The contact that your skin made with his armor made your skin feel as if it were on fire. You had to keep going. You watched as the trooper recoiled in pain and let the heel of your foot hit him in the back of the knee. As he came falling down, you used need him in his shiny, bright helmet. The helmet didn’t feel good, but you planned on continuing. You had to make it back home.

You turned to attack the other two people in the doorway only to freeze. Every part of your body felt as if it had hit a brick wall and it hurt. Whatever air that was present in your lungs left immediately and you groaned loudly. Your eyes had closed shut when you initially felt the feeling of your body being stopped in every single way possible. Your eyes opened again and widened at the sight in front of you. The black attire and the mask of the man that you had spent years running from was only a few feet away from you. His right hand was outstretched towards your body. Your eyes locked on the eyes of the mask and you knew he was staring at you. You slowly regained the ability to breathe but you struggled against the Force he had around you.

“What is the meaning of this?” He asked and you glared at the sound of the droid-like voice that came from him.

“She was trying to escape,” the man who had entered earlier said. “We were just letting her throw a small tantrum before regaining control over the situation.”

“She took down two of your men. How exactly were you going to take control of the situation when she got to you?” He asked.

“She wasn’t going to get very far,” the silver Stormtrooper told. You almost raised your eyebrows at the sound of the feminine voice that came from her.

“I always thought that Stormtroopers were men,” you grunted, still trying to break free from your invisible restraints. “So much for uniformity, eh?”

“You will learn to bite your tongue,” the red head stated.

“Or not,” you argued. If you were going to go down, you were going down with a fight. “This has been fun and all, but I did mention that I have things to get to.”

“You were supposed to be being treated for your injuries, (Y/N),” the man in the mask told.

“Pardon me, but a little sunburn hasn’t stopped me before. But you would know that, wouldn’t you?” You growled.

Your eyes widened as you suddenly felt one of the most intense pains come from the back of your head until it hit the front of it. Your mouth opened as you strained to fight the pain. It felt as if some was taking their hand and rummaging through the deepest corners of your mind.

“Stop,” you whispered.

“You are not as brave as the pilot. He never begged,” the red headed man growled. Your mind stopped whenever you had heard the word ‘pilot,’ your thoughts turning to Poe.

“General Hux,” Kylo Ren said, but his tone was more of a warning.

“What pilot?” You growled.

“I think you know who we are speaking about,” General Hux smirked.

“You better not have hurt Poe!” You warned, though your voice came out restrained. “I swear, I will find a way to skin you alive if he has been hurt. Do you understand me?”

“I understand you, but your words have no meaning.”

“You bastard!”

“Enough.”                                                                        

The room silenced at the knight’s word. You found yourself breathing hard as you watched him lower his arm. You tried to move away from him as he approached you. You couldn’t move still and you felt anxiety in your throat, the pounding in your head increasing with each step that he took. He stopped only inches in front of your body. You could feel his gaze staring down at your through the mask. But you locked your eyes on where you believe his were inside of the mask. You refused to back down.

“What have you done with Poe?” You asked.

“You should be more worried about your injuries, (Y/N). You will let our medic heal you,” he ordered. “Then we will talk.”

“If I find out you did anything to my friend, I will kill you myself,” you promised.

“The pilot is the least of your worries. You know that.”

“But I’m not the least of your’s,” you retorted.

He stared down at you for a few moments before you felt your body completely relax. The sudden change in your body made you fall to the ground. Your raw skin made contact with the hard, cold floor and you cried out in pain. The medic that you had pushed away scurried to help you off of the floor, her hands only causing you more pain despite the ache in your head slowly fading away. You watched with anger brewing in your eyes as the man you used to know as Ben Solo turned his back on your crippled form. He left the room without a sound and you knew that you couldn’t fight your way out of this one.

You were lost. Again.

Some of the most ridiculous seeming things trigger memories of my abuse/abuser, but you will never catch me talking about them because people are such assholes. If you have ever made fun of a person’s trigger, I don’t trust you.

One that I’m somewhat willing to admit is Old Spice deodorant, and while I’ve enjoyed some of the memes about it, it always comes with that reminder. My ex let me pick deodorant for him a few times, and I was completely unaware that this was something I even remembered. I was picking up different scents and smelling them, and I grabbed the original Old Spice and it sent me reeling and I had a full blown panic attack in the middle of the hygiene aisle at Target. It felt like I’d been sent back in time, and I was suddenly completely terrified and vulnerable. Now, just seeing the packaging is doubly upsetting, because it reminds me both of my abuse and the fact that my memories of it still have so much control over my current day life.

You don’t know the story behind people’s triggers. Don’t mock them. Ever. 

Public Service Announcement

Okay, people. I know I don’t have many followers here, but maybe someone will see this and reblog it. One of my fav fanfic authors sent me a message last night and I am beyond furious about it. I contacted her after I saw that all her fics had been deleted and her twitter was disabled and, naturally, I was a bit worried. What she told me was what made me mad.

She’d decided to step away from the fanfic world for a while because she felt it was taking over. Not only was she getting nasty reviews from snotty, pushy people, but she’d also been sent a message about a fic she hadn’t updated recently and the person was abusive to her.

THIS IS NOT OKAY.

As a writer, I don’t mind getting reviews and messages saying things like ‘yay, more, update, faster!’ This is simply enthusiasm for the story and I don’t mind people saying ‘oh, that’s a terrible cliffhanger! you mean person, you can’t leave us like this!’ I’ve done this myself - recently - and it’s all in good faith and in good fun.

What is not okay is sending messages complaining about update schedules, pushing ideas onto the author or being insensitive to the fact that authors have lives outside of the fanfic universe. That is abuse and everyone needs to be aware of it.

In all honesty, the majority of people I’ve encountered in the fanfic world are like-minded authors who know what it’s like or dedicated reviewers who are respectful when giving constructive criticism. You don’t have to sound like Leonard Maltin, you just can’t be an ass.

Well, apparently, you can - but it’s not cool. And pushing that to the point where an author not only loses their enthusiasm for their own work but decides to step away completely is abusive. These people are called flamers and there is a reason they are frowned upon.

Now, I realize that we are not going to like every story we read. We are not going to agree on every author’s character portrayal, choice of plot, choice of pairing, etc. Of course we’re not. We are individuals and that’s the whole point. That’s the beauty of it. We authors do not get paid for any of this. This is supposed to be for fun.

And it can’t be fun unless it’s healthy, and it can’t be healthy unless it’s fun, and abusive people take the fun out of it. Many writers use fanfic as a means of therapy, as something that distracts them from whatever is going on in their lives that they are having trouble dealing with, others are aspiring writers/journalists/bloggers/etc. who are honing their skills in what is supposed to be a safe place, still others simply do it because it’s fun - because they can’t stifle the creativity inside them and have decided that fanfic looks like a good outlet right now.

These people should be supported and nurtured and brought into the fold, not picked apart and put upon. As a writer, I know how difficult it is to maintain an update schedule and that’s why I’ve never promised one. I won’t box myself in to ‘updated once a week’ or ‘check in on Tuesdays’ because I can’t. It would create a structure in the very place I’ve gone to to get away from structure. I’ve been guilty of leaving fics for weeks on end simply because I didn’t have any new material to put out there and some of my fav stories haven’t been updated in months.

But I would never, NEVER send a snotty message to the author.

I hope I’m preaching to the choir here, but I felt it needed to be said because - clearly - we need more awareness about this. Civility is the key. You know the old saying ‘if you can’t say anything nice…’ Well, I won’t go that far, but at the very least, be civil. There is no reason for abuse in this community and it should not be tolerated. If anyone reading this has gotten a message or review that was abusive, please know that the problem does not lie with you, it lies with them and never, NEVER take it personally. If they can’t be civil, it’s not worth giving them the time of day. In the words of Ellen DeGeneres:

‘Be kind to one another.’

This is a debate that I have avoided weighing in on for a very long time as for a very long time I have had people I consider friends in all corners of this argument. However regardless of your feelings regarding one Kent Parson I think everyone can agree that the fan culture surrounding him isn’t a healthy one and that it self is a reflection not on the character of Kent Parson but on the fandom itself. 

I am sick of seeing people being targeted, of the word witch hunt being thrown around, of people leaving this fandom because they where made to feel like lesser beings, sick of the word abuse!sympathiser being used to label people who have also suffered abuse. 

I have been relatively absent from the fandom since summer from a mixture of uni work and my feelings on Parse, I have felt sick for reblogging picture of Parse even when my feelings on him where still relatively neutral out of fear that I was going to get people yelling at me in my inbox that I was an abuse sympathizer.  And when I finally decided to give up the act of pretending I was still ambiguous regarding my position on him, it wasn’t a decision that I made lightly and it should have been. Liking a fictional character that we have seen in one scene from the point of view of one character should not have sent me into an anxiety spiral the first time I made a post about him, but it did. Liking a fictional character should not have made me feel so sick I wanted to throw up, but it did. Liking a fictional character should not be this stressful, but it is. And none of that is the fault of the character, but instead of the fan culture surrounding them.

So be careful with your words, if you read Parse as an abuser I’m not going to stop you. If you read Parse as a bit of a dick I’m all for it. If you read Parse as a morally complex character then I’m there with you. However if you interact with the character that is Kent Parson in anyway, if you vilify people for feeling one way or another, be careful with your words, because Kent Parson may be a fictional character but the people behind the icons on you are talking to are not.

{ Fluxx }

Fluxx had hit the jackpot, well…. Not literally…. Sadly this interruption to his heist was rather unwarranted and incredibly annoying, yet he still felt slightly elated as a mischievous smile crept over his lips. “What does it look like?” He shrugged, his own firearm loose in his hand. “I was robbing a bank, and now I’m being threatened at gun point.” With a swift movement his smile grew wider and his wrist flicked, two bullets loosed into the heads of two nearby onlookers and the barrel was pressed to her forehead. “And so are you.”

For the two shots he fired, Grace fired one; narrowly missing going through his ear, the bullet implanted into the wall with a loud crack of splintering plaster. Yet, even as those who had not braved him themselves, gasped at the actions of the man, Grace didn’t blink; her gaze never leaving his once.

“—Pull it.” the words were spoken clearly, almost mockingly. “Pull it, I dare you. Lets see who fires first. But I should warn you; I was born and bloody raised with these things.”

A battle of wills perhaps was to outbreak but, even as she tried to be moral and just, living her life away from that one; she could see a clear exit out of this situation. Bullets into the security cameras and a getaway car outside; it was sick, she thought, how easily her mind conjured such plans.

“Or..” she began, banking - no pun intended - on his desire to survive this being as strong as her own. “We find something better to use these bullets for than each other.”

I know i made a post like this a little while ago before school started but things are really rough right now..
Im in absolute need of binders
we are in no way shape or form in the place where we can afford a binder
Last time i made a post like this i only ended up getting enough for compression shorts (one pair) and i stopped reblogging it because i felt like that was enough for the time being
but now school has started and things are a lot different
In school I am 100% out, in general i am 100% out as trans and as of last week i started seeing an endocrinologist
im getting there but theres a problem
i have no binders whatsoever
the 2 that i had for about a year are completely useless, they are essentially regular tank tops now
Im a very very curvy- fat trans guy and it doesnt work out so well especially with a dd cup size
my chest is one of the biggest reasons why u cant pass and im misgendered on a daily basis
the misgendering and such has already started to make me miss school and if this continues im going to fail and have to repeat the year again.
I really need people to donate
i dont like to ask for money i really dont and its why i didnt do it a long time ago
im willing to draw things for people, follow them on here or ig or twitter or anything really
i really need people to donate
the email for donations is masoncatherine3@gmail.com (its my moms)
please, if you can donate anything it would help so so much even a dollar or two helps more than you would think
please
if you cant donate please reblog this

Hi Everyone

Okay so today was a very important day for me, it was the day i was lucky enough that i got to put “Taylor Follows” in my bio. I had been waiting for this day for so long and it finally came and i felt like this 

Originally posted by thisloveglows1989

i was and still am so in insanely happy. the thing is is that i would definitely not have felt this good without you guys, so many of you commented “congratulations” on my posts, sent me really really nice messages and in general were just so supportive and kind and i just wanted to say thank you because 

you guys really made my day and made me feel so happy. Everyday when i see people reblog my posts i literally have no idea why you even put up with my crazy blog because most of the time it is literal trash. so basically this post is just one really long rambled message to all the wonderful people who really made my day, i just wanted to thank you because without you Taylor wouldn’t have noticed me and to be honest i would be really really sad if i didn’t have all of you guys in my life. I have thanked some of you already but this is to everyone who has ever liked, reblogged, messaged me or followed me even if you don’t even know who i am thank you 

Originally posted by lov-eswift

p.s. if Taylor hasn’t noticed you yet or you want me to reblog anything for you just ask because i’m always willing to help! And taylorswift thank you thank you thank you