no one's forcing you to follow her instagram


The Paladins of Voltron: Instagram Edition

headcanons below

Edited: I fixed Hunk’s faceclaim. Thank you to everyone who told me what I did/why it was wrong! 


• Allura once posted a picture of Alfor mid-sneeze and now has to get all her posts approved by Coran before she posts them (Coran was the one to take the photo)
• Her account was featured on a BuzzFeed article titled “The Beauty of Modern-Day Princesses” and I ghostwrote the article

• Keith got (was forced to get) instagram, used it for a day and never opens it
• He is however following about 10 sword accounts
• Lance choose his username and Keith doesn’t know how to change it

• Shiro has the most followers of the garrison pilots but doesn’t understand why (those arms)
• Matt was the one to add “6 years young” and even through Shiro deletes it every time it keeps popping back up (coughPidgecough)

• Pidge doesn’t even try to have an theme but does and Lance refuses to believe that they don’t plan it out
• The text message was sent to Hunk at about 3am in the middle of exam season

• Lance comments about 500 emojis on his friend’s photos
• His story is just him trying out really cheesy pickup lines on people
• He almost tried one on Keith but he had his knife out and Lance just turned around and walked away

• Hunk once got a comment liked by his favorite actor and he screamed when he got the notification and woke up Lance who thought there was a fire
• Nobody is sure if Hunk’s description is ironic or not
• It is (or is it?)

• Lance Pidge and Hunk have a groupchat where they just send each other videos of animals and memes
• Lance once sent Keith a video of a cat that for some reason had a knife in its mouth with “its u”
• (Just imagine that they could all have a groupchat) the names of it would’ve been; “Coran’s Charismatic Children” “Hunk Defense Squad” “How come allura and shiro have verified accounts when my theme is more consistent” and “shut up lance”

Don't Forget (Poe Dameron x reader)

I finally finished my first star wars imagine, a Poe x reader! I’m really proud of this one 😊 keep sending me star wars request pls.
Aaanyway I never had a personal instagram, just a fan account one, so I wanted to start a personal one (Yay!) follow @hesragnorssoulmate on insta and I’ll follow you back! 🤗


(Y/n) and Ben Solo were both strong with the force, but unlike Ben, she wasn’t obsessed with it.
Her parents had sent Ben away with their uncle Luke when he said he wanted to train as a jedi. They offered her the training as well, but she refused. She’d rather train with her father and became a pilot. She spent years and years of her life inside the millennium falcon. When the falcon was stolen, she was devastated, but she eventually moved on and chose an X-wing.
The time Ben turned to the dark side, it was the worst time in her life. Han Solo left her and Leia, blaming himself for what happened. Luke went missing.
(Y/n) had lost her brother, uncle, and father in a matter of days.
Soon after that, The First Order started attacking the new republic, and that’s why (Y/n) and Leia started recruiting resistance pilots.
(Y/n) was the best pilot into the resistance. Until he came.
She was recruiting pilots from Yavin 4 when she met him.
“What’s you’re name?” (Y/n) had asked him the first time he met. He was cute, she thought.
“Dameron,” he answered with a wide grin, like a kid on his first day of school, “Poe Dameron.”
“All right, Poe, let’s see what you’ve got,” she had answered.
He climbed in the X-wing and lifted off.
He was good, (Y/n) thought.
But she was proven wrong as soon as Poe flew through his first obstacle.
He was really good.
He went through the track with ease. He didn’t even come close to hitting anything, something (Y/n) could never do on this godawful obstacle.
He came out of the fighter plane, his hair ruffled with a confident smile that said ‘I know I impressed you.’
It was the only thing she said that day.
Soon after Poe was recruited, he became the best pilot in the resistance, making (Y/n) fall for the second spot. She tried to hate him, she really did, but she just can’t.
She even became Poe’s best friend.
Her feelings grew for him over the years but she kept it hidden in fear that he did not return them.
She joined the fight against the first order that day.
No matter how many attacks they triggered on the x-wing, none of them hit her, because she knew the fighter plane in the back of her hand. She maneuvered sideways, making the blast that came from the first order fighter hit one of its own.
“Well done, (Y/n),” praised Poe through the headpiece. “Thanks,” she said confidently, the color red creeping into her cheeks. She can’t help but notice that Poe ever only congratulated her on a perfect maneuver, never anyone else.
She shook herself out of her thoughts. Get your head back in the game, (Y/n), she thought to herself.
And suddenly she felt it. A sudden pang in her chest like a rope was snapped and all the connections were lost. Something empty; something wrong with the force. She didn’t exactly know what it was but her mind went blank. She lost something, she knew, but she couldn’t tell what she lost.
“(Y/n)?(Y/n)!” someone shouted in her head. Who was it? Why does the voice sounded so familiar.
She snapped back into her self to find out that she was plummeting down. She frantically pulled the controller and lifted herself back up. She heard a sigh on the other end of the line.
“I-I’m sorry I was… distracted,” (Y/n) said, trying to explain the accident that nearly took her life.
That connection, that goddamn snapped connection was Han Solo.
How could she not have known?
When Rey told her what happened, she felt a hollowness in her heart, that she could finally understand what, or rather who, she was missing, along with the realization that she’ll never get him back.
Han was just never her father, he was also a mentor, a teacher, and someone to look up to.
Her father’s death really shook her.
The feeling strongest in her was guilt; guilt that she never went after her father, guilt that she was celebrating her victory over the starkiller base when her father was killed.
By her own brother.
She sworn that day that whoever he is now, he is not her brother, and she will bring Ben back from the ashes of Kylo Ren.
“General Organa,” saluted Poe. “Have you seen (Y/n)?”
“She’s in her room,” Leia said blankly. She could see that the general was scared. She was scared of losing (Y/n) after everyone else she lost. (Y/n) was her anchor in the world. All hope that’s left of in her. “Don’t bother. She won’t talk to anybody. Not Rey, not beebee-ate, not threepio. Not even me.” she said that last part with pain, like a thousand needles prickling her voice.
“I’ll have to try, general.”
A knock sounded on her door.
(Y/n) decided to ignore it. Must’ve been Rey again, or the annoying threepio who couldn’t help her grief, or beebee-ate trying to roll through her door. Or maybe it was Leia.
The knock sounded again. Man, whoever was behind the door was stubborn.
“Go away, mom,” she stiffled a cry from under her breath.
“It’s me, (Y/n),” said a familiar, soothing voice. “Poe,” she whispered under her breath. “Go away,” she urged him.
“No,” he said stubbornly from behind the door, “even if you don’t let me in, I’ll stay out here all day to annoy you.”
A soft click after a fair amount of silence was heard from the door as it slid open. “What do you want?” asked (Y/n). Her hair was messy, and her eyes were red from crying. She had a frown on her face.
But yet, he still thought she looked beautiful.
“I just want to talk,” said Poe. (Y/n) sighed and stepped away to let him in. When he got in, he did something unexpected.
He hugged her.
It was one of those hugs where they seem to melt into each other. His arms gripped her, leaving her breathless as he held onto her. (Y/n) lost track of where her body stops and Poe’s begin. With one last choking squeeze, Poe let her go, looking at fresh tears that stained her face.
But she didn’t want to let go.
This time, it was (Y/n) who embraced Poe, wrapping her arms around his neck as she engulfed herself into his shoulders, silently sobbing. Poe returned her gesture almost immediately, and it was clear neither of them would ever want to let go.
They stood there in each others’ arm, not saying a word, but Poe knows what she wants.
“Don’t let go,” begged (Y/n) urgently, softly digging her nails into his back. “I won’t,” He reassured.
“Stay with me,” sobbed (Y/n). Her voice was raspy, it almost sounded like a low growl, “Stay with me and make me forget about my father. Make me forget about my brother. Make me forget about my uncle. Make me forget about everyone. Everyone.”
Poe ran his fingers through her hair. They were not the softest hair Poe ever felt. Her hair was rough, worn out by battle and the helmets she put on her head and the radiation and smoke she worked with, but Poe did not care. It was hers, and everything about her makes him fall in love deeper every time. “Even me?” Asked Poe gently, “Do you want to forget about me, too?” There was a sharp edge in his voice, the kind of edge that can cut through glass.
“No,” she whispered quietly, “Not you.”
Poe smiled and kissed her forehead and breathed, “You don’t have to forget.” Poe pulled his head back to look at her tear-stained face, but his arms were still around her. “Do you who I see in your eyes?” Poe asked her.
“My father,” she guessed, a little choking sound at the edge, “Everyone always tells me that I have his eyes.”
To her surprise, Poe shook his head. “I see you, (Y/n),” said Poe, caressing her cheeks. “Han had the eyes of someone who regretted that he had forgotten so much. You have the eyes of someone who wants to forget,” Poe trailed her jaw gently, “Don’t forget, (Y/n). Don’t make the mistakes your father made. Make him-.”
Poe trailed off, afraid of what effect the word he was about to say brings to (Y/n).
That word echoed in her head endlessly, drowning in her thoughts. That was all she ever wanted to do. Make her father proud. “I want to,” (Y/n) gulped, lowering her head in the process,“Make him proud.”
“He already is,” Poe assured, tilting her head back into its original position, “I saw it in his eyes.”
For the first time that day, (Y/n)’s eyes twinkled. “You think so?”
Poe nodded and lifted his other hand to her cheek, so both of them were caressing her face. (Y/n)’s hand moved to his waist.
And hey stood there, not talking to each other, a cloak of silence separating them from everything else in the universe.
I love you, Poe wanted to say.
But he was going to save it for another moment.


Stoplight artist of the week!
Bahja Rodriguez, 19
This former member of OMG is a vocal power house! Her EP It Gets Better reached #6 on the iTunes R&B chart. She is definitely a force to be reckoned with. Follow her on Twitter & IG @ bahjarodriquez and watch her videos on Vevo @ bahjarodriquez and she’s on Tumblr @heyimbahja
I hope you all love her music as much as I do!
Fav tracks: Jealous Type, Next One

anonymous asked:

Am I the only one who thinks John Webster (Alyssa Bates Husband) constantly looks awkward as heck? I follow her on instagram and I don't know about him he just seems awkward. Love you blog, guilty pleasure I stalk whenever I am bored at work lol

Firstly, thanks for the love dear, it is very much appreciated!!  💖 💖

I think John just doesn’t have a very photogenic smile. It always seems a bit forced in pictures. But from what I have seen on the show, he is a very laid back, hilarious, confident character. He just doesn’t seem to photograph very well. (Annie)


Kick-Ass Chicks: Amber Saylor

When it comes to genuine West Coast style, our girl Amber Saylor has it on-lock. From prime vintage finds to the mastered art of tomboy chic, Amber is the epitome of Cali-style. We caught up with the style maven in her Long Beach loft to find out what makes her tick, and how she likes to style her favorite Slip-On’s with some of our Fall ‘14 apparel.

Keep reading

My friend (and incredible art goddess) Laura drew this amazing picture of me as part of her Inktober project and it is so beautiful and perfect. I cried for about an hour after she sent it to me last night and then cried again a little bit when I saw it on Instagram this morning. My brain totally short-circuits when people do nice things for me. I start having feelings and I can’t handle it.

The caption she gave it on IG is “Interrupting a very Lovecraftian Inktober to bring you a heroine that should have made it into one of his books. Introducing Tanya Simpson. Her defence against the dark forces are her deadly attack spiders (amazing idea for fending off intruders). She comes dressed as night, with a demon kitten on her shoulder. ”

Her art is absolutely stunning. If you’re on Instagram, you should definitely follow her at

A Picture is Worth a Thousand

Note- Part 2 of “A Way with Words”

               “Anything up yet?”

                “Yeah, a couple of pictures just went up on Instagram.”

                Janel lets out a small groan, sitting on the couch next to Val and pressing her face into his shoulder. She feels his lips brush against the top of her head, but it’s not enough to wipe the frustrated pout off of her face.

                “What are people saying?”

                “Mostly just the usual. They all think you look cute.”

                He’s trying to cheer her up, but she  just grumbles and buries her face deeper against him because she knows he’s beating around the bush, trying to get her to move on to a different topic even though he has to know that she’ll see the comments later when she goes online.

                “So the speculation’s started?” she asks. She already knows the answer, but when he pauses and sighs it still makes her heart drop a little.

                “They’re not really speculating so much as debating. Most of them think it’s just a weird angle, or the way the shirt is sitting on your body.”

                Now she sighs too, her hands moving to rest on the bump hidden underneath the baggy t-shirt she’d stolen from him. This shirt had been her lifeline, the only article of clothing loose enough to continue to hide her belly into the fifth month of her pregnancy, but it had finally seen its defeat.

                And it’s frustrating because they had been so careful. In the beginning neither of them had worried much about paparazzi or fan photos, because they usually flew pretty well under the radar. Living in a city full of stars made it easy to sneak by if you were lower on the hierarchy. But then two weeks ago there had been the announcement that the next season of Dancing with the Stars would be an All Star season, and suddenly it seemed like everyone in the world had their eyes on them.

                They changed their lives around it. They switched up their habits, abandoning some of their favorite haunts for quieter places in different parts of town. They drove different routes to friends’ and family’s houses, or when possible just had friends and family come to them. When they did go out together she stayed glued to his side while he used his body as a human shield against photographers. And that coupled with her wearing his largest and baggiest shirts, flannels, and sweatshirts had been enough to keep the rumors focused on speculation about Dancing with the Stars.

                So it kills her that all it took was one little mistake to bring the whole thing crashing down. The memory plays over in her mind and tears prickle in her eyes. She feels so stupid about the whole thing.

                “Baby, it’s okay,” Val says, setting his phone aside and wrapping her in a hug, “They don’t know anything. It’s just fans commenting on an Instagram picture.”

                “We shouldn’t have gone out,” she whines in response, leaning into him, “It was just a stupid craving, it wasn’t worth it.”

                “It was worth it J, whatever you and the baby want you should have. It made you happy didn’t it?”

                She has to nod at that, because earlier she had been just about ready to kill someone for fries from Five Guys. He had offered to go out and get some for her, but the closest Five Guys was a twenty minute drive from their apartment. In twenty minutes the fries would already be luke warm and soggy instead of piping hot and perfectly soft. So they had gone together, and she’d be lying if she didn’t admit that those fries were like a tiny piece of heaven on Earth.

                “So it was worth it,” he continues, “And anyways, we’re going to Hawaii in a week. I really don’t think you’re going to be able to hide your stomach in a bikini.”

                “Well no,” she sniffles, “But I wanted to announce this on my terms. I didn’t want to have to announce it to stop gossip.”

                He’s quiet then, and she hums against his chest, turning the moment over again in her mind. They had walked out of the Five Guys, headed towards the car past a couple of waiting photographers. It was windy, and she angled her body in towards him and went to put an arm around his waist, but then her phone slipped from her hand. She didn’t even think, just ducked out from under his arm and stopped to pick it up, and he must not have been thinking either because he kept walking for a few steps before turning back. But by then she had stood up, and the wind blew against her, and for half a second before the photographer’s flash went off she could feel the fabric of the shirt pull back with the wind, becoming taught against her stomach. Then Val had been at her side again, shielding her, hurrying her to the car.

                Obviously, they had been too late.

                “If we hurry, we can announce it on our terms before it becomes gossip.”

                She lifts her head to look at him as his hands move to cover hers on her stomach.

                “It’s not really on our terms,” she protests, “Our hand is still being forced.”

                “True, but if we announce it now we can at least stop the gossip.”

                The buzzing of his phone fills the silence when she doesn’t answer, and she can see at a glance that it’s blowing up with Twitter and Instagram notifications. He follows her gaze and picks it up, quickly setting it to silent.

                “We don’t have to,” he backtracks, “I’m fine with whatever you want to do.”

                With the hand still on her stomach he takes one of hers, giving it a squeeze. His eyes are gentle and understanding, and her heart aches with appreciation. It’s obvious that he doesn’t understand the full depth of why this is so important, but he understands at least that it’s important to her, and that’s what matters. She squeezes his hand back, her gaze dropping to where they rest against her stomach. When they rest like this they press the fabric to her skin the way the wind did, and she realizes that she doesn’t need to see the paparazzi picture to know the cat is out of the bag. With Twitter and Instagram already blowing up it’s only a matter of time before there are blog posts and news articles brandishing the photo with their own personal speculation.

                “Let’s do it.”

                He raises an eyebrow, as if to ask are you sure? And she scoots to the other edge of the couch in response, pulling her own phone out of the purse she’d dropped on the floor. She turns it on, unsurprised when she’s met with a barrage of Twitter and Instagram notifications. There’s also a number of texts from her friends warning her about the picture, which brings a small smile to her face. She’ll text them all back later with thanks for their concern, but right now they don’t have a lot of time.

                “So how are we doing this?” She asks, moving back to sit next to Val again. He wraps an arm around her shoulder but shrugs uselessly.

                “Can’t we just tweet something like ‘Yeah it’s true we’re having a baby’?”

                “First of all,” she starts, immediately earning a cringe because Val can tell he’s fucked up, “Who’s having a baby?”

                “You are.”

                “Right. Second, I don’t want to just do a generic ‘We are happy to announce that we’ll be adding a new member to our family’ post. I had a plan, a very cute plan, for how I wanted to announce it.”

                “Okay,” he says, kissing her on her forehead encouragingly, “so let’s do it.”

                But she just sniffles and shakes her head. The tears are starting to resurface again but she blinks them back, staring down at her phone in her hands,

                “We can’t, it just… it wouldn’t work.”

                She wants to just leave it at that, but he furrows his brow and she can tell he doesn’t want to pry, but she takes a shaky breath and continues,

                “I have this old picture of my mom when she was pregnant with me standing on one of the beaches on Oahu, and I wanted to recreate it while we were there and then post them side by side for Throwback Thursday,” she gives a humorless chuckle, “It probably sounds really dumb, but-”

                “It doesn’t sound dumb,” Val cuts in, a genuine smile on his face, “it sounds perfect. And you can still do it when we’re there.”

                Now she smiles too, even manages a small laugh, because he’s right. It is still a cute idea, even if it’s not how she announces her pregnancy to the world. She mentally blames her stupid hormones for overreacting as she returns to the problem at hand.

                “Okay, you’re right, but what are we going to do now?”

                This time Val smirks, and she can tell from the glint in his eye that he’s finally come up with a plan.

                “Well, today is Tuesday, so Transformation Tuesday? I’m sure we can find a good picture of you standing sideways…”

                He begins to scroll through his phone’s photo gallery and she just sort of chuckles in agreement. It’s not perfect, but in a pinch it will do. By now there’s probably at least one or two “breaking” news articles or blog posts up, and she just wants to get this over with before there are more. And it’s kind of sad, because she had been looking forward to this for weeks. She had been excited to have a cute way to officially announce her pregnancy, and it’s not that this isn’t cute because Val’s excitement as he searches for the perfect picture is actually adorable, but it’s just not what she had had in mind.

                “Even better!” He exclaims after a few moments of searching. He shows her the picture, one of her from about a week before they found out she was pregnant. In the picture she’s sitting cross legged against the arm of the couch, stretching her back with her arms above her head so that her tank top pulls up to reveal her stomach.

                “The legs might be a problem,” she admits, scooting back on the couch so she has some space. But with some difficulty she’s able to mimic the pose, and the stretch actually feels good on her aching back. As a final touch Val reaches over and pulls the t-shirt up, arranging it so her stomach is out the same way it was in the first one, then he takes the picture with her phone and she relaxes, immediately reaching for it.

                “Let me see it!” She whines, pouting when he holds it out of reach.

                “Why? It looks fine, just like the first one.”

                “I just want to see it before you post it!”

                He rolls his eyes, handing over the phone. And it does look okay, cute even, but still not quite right. The original picture doesn’t have a filter on it, but she thinks the second one probably needs one. She thinks she has one in mind, but it doesn’t look exactly how she imagined it so she keeps flipping through, not realizing how long she’s taking until Val lets out a loud groan of annoyance. She’s about to scold him, to tell him just to wait a minute longer, but before she can he leans over with his face next to her stomach and begins to talk.

                “Baby Girl, your mama is going to drive me crazy if she doesn’t hurry up and finish editing that picture.”

                “Hey!” she laughs, picture forgotten as he rubs a hand over her exposed stomach, “Don’t taint our daughter against me before she’s even born.”

                “Sorry,” he grins, “But she’s going to be a daddy’s girl. Isn’t that right baby?”

                Then he’s peppering her skin with feather light kisses and she giggles uncontrollably at the tickly sensation. And she doesn’t even think about what she’s doing when she deletes the picture on the phone and returns to the camera, because she manages to snap a picture of him just as his lips press against the swell of her stomach and he looks up at her. And then he sits up suddenly, realizing what she’s done.

                “J, what are you-”

                “Nothing,” she laughs, typing in her caption and publishing the post before he can snatch the phone out of her hand.

                The result is almost instantaneous. His phone, sitting on the coffee table, begins to vibrate so violently it nearly falls to the ground. He leans away from her to grab it and she bites her lip with anticipation, watching as he navigates to his own Instagram to see the post. When it finally loads he freezes for a moment, staring in disbelief, then she can see a blush creep up his face and he drops his head into his hands. And she can’t help herself when the laughter breaks through, because she doesn’t care if he’s a little embarrassed there’s no way she’s taking it down.

                “Belly kisses for days?” He asks finally, lifting his head with a pleading look, “That’s what you went with?”

                “It’s cute!”

                He sighs, shaking his head in resignation even as a smirk finds its way onto his face,

                “If it makes you happy J, it’s perfect.”