okay just a little point here: i'm not saying that it's the same

okay so i’ve been watching the get down constantly since it came out, but recently i rewatched p1, esp. in prep for the tgd watch on twitter (check it out here to help us out!!) and i have some thoughts on episode six and dizzee’s experience at the club.

- first of all, i keep forgetting that two minutes before dizzee arrives, there’s the scene where thor’s like “you should come down to soho”

- and it’s so wild to watch that exact scene because as much as we joke about it being love at first sight for the two of them, dizzee genuinely had a crush on this dude ( and i think he knew it too) but hadn’t … like, experienced his awakening yet?

- so how amazing would it have been for him to 1. have met his idol (you’re thor?  wow!), 2. have his idol save him from the police, 3. be praised and admired for his artmaking and ideas, which definitely wasn’t common in his life prior to this ( i like rumi, he’s weird though / your brother’s a fucking weirdo ), and 4. that thor likes him enough to exchange books and hang out with him? then thor invites him to a party?  like at this point dizzee’s crushing on what used to a very highly esteemed colleague, and is now close to being his best friend??  stop??

- he meets up with thor and “beautiful girl” ( i will never forgive them for not giving her a name!! ) but he sees!!  thor!! make out with her right in front of him and you can see he’s like

:/// okay

- but then dizzee goes into the club! and immediately you can see him go “!!!” this isn’t insignificant for him!  this is a HUGE DEAL for dizzee

- thor’s like “yeah this is where the free people run free!!” and dizzee can likely see!!!  wlw !! couples!! and mlm!! couples!!  kissing near him!!

- he can see drag queens and people like him wearing dresses and makeup and it’s like he’s walked into a dream because he’s had thoughts about what if i could kiss boys??  what if i could wear nail polish?? what if i could wear dresses???  and so straight off the bat he’s being validated 100% by these happy dancing people and the cool disco atmosphere i mean he must be feeling high as a kite

- AND THEN and then he gives thor!!!!!!!!!! the fuckingggggggg RECORD

- he’s like “here it reminded me of you!” and thor gives him this HUGE SMILE thats so grateful and like ADORING like can you imagine how dizzee is FEELING right now

- then THEN the beautiful girl goes “you should get carlo to play it!” and dizzee’s like “okay cool who’s that?” and yeah its the dj and then she’s like “ya thor REEALLY KNOWS HIM ya know ;))))” .  dizzee’s fucking 

😱😱😱 does that mean what i think it means?? like this boy???? might like boys too ????? the fuck //????? liking girls and boys at the same time?????

- so he hangs out with the girl while thor goes off and he talks about the performers and he takes in a WHOLE NEW GENRE of art and dance and being!!

- the girl initiates the kiss but he goes in for it anyway and gets tapped on the shoulder

- and thor’s there, and dizzee goes “oh fuck i just kissed his girlfriend now the guy i’m crushing on is gonna be pissed at me” right?

- WRONG

- dizzee goes “sorry” and thor goes “my turn”

- MY TURN

- MY

- TURN

- SO NOW IN THE SPACE OF LESS THAN TWENTY MINUTES DIZZEE HAS REALISED THAT

IT’S OKAY TO LIKE BOYS AND IT’S OKAY TO LIKE BOYS AT THE SAME TIME AS GIRLS


THAT HE HAS A BIG CRUSH ON THIS BOY


THAT THE BOY LIKES HIM BACK AND MAYBE WANTS TO KISS HIM????


-  and he’s unsure right?  like christina aguilara’s song comes on and thor’s just dancing and dizzee’s like 

…. is this real?  did you just ask to kiss me a second ago?

- and the song keeps going and thor keeps dancing and bopping his shoulder good naturedly so dizzee’s like “no nah nah i’m not gonna do this what if i misread the signals”

- he didn’t

- the beautiful girl leans over and goes “IT’S OKAY, GO ON, KISS HIM!”

- IT’S OKAY!

- GO ON!

- KISS HIM!

HE’S SHY AND HESITANT BUT THOR JUST SMILES AT HIM AND KEEPS DANCING LIKE 

- and dizzee at this point is just like “ ???????????????????????????? IM ALLOWED TO DO THAT IM ALLOWED TO DO THAT IM ALLOWED TO DO THAT”

- the beautiful girl takes this into her own hands and gives him a reassuring kiss, you know, one that’s familiar and comfortable and he closes his eyes and kisses back

- she pulls back and says TO.  THOR.  “HE’S A GOOD KISSER,  I LIKE THAT A LOT.”

- HE’S

- A

- GOOD

- KISSER

- I

- LIKE

- THAT

- A LOT

- AND THE MUSIC GETS CLIMACTIC AND THERE ARE ALL THESE QUEER RELATIONSHIPS GOING ON RIGHT BESIDE THEM PEOPLE ARE KISSING AND EMBRACING AND DANCING AND THAT WHOLE MONTAGE JUST REINFORCES THE FACT THAT THIS IS NORMAL!! THESE TWO BOYS!! JUST FEELING A LITTLE BIT IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER!!  ITS NOT OUT OF PLACE IT’S OKAY!!

- they’re both so shy and it’s so pure!!  like clearly this whole time thor has had a crush on dizzee as well and they don’t want to mess up and the beautiful girl in the corner is just like “this is the sweetest thing ever”

- thor gives him

- a

- mother

- fucking

- smile

- to reassure him because this is a hugely overwhelming experience for dizzee lbr!!

- and you can tell that dizzee is entranced by this whole situation because never in his LIFE did he expect a boy he liked to like him back!! he never anticipated that he would get to live THIS FREE !!

and they get closer and closer together and in a second we see a dozen people lock lips simultaneously, then the two of them slowly part, we’re left to imagine the magic and the wonder of dizzee’s first kiss with a boy (which i ❤❤❤❤❤).

- THEN

- BITHC

- MYLENE CRUZ HERSELF BEGINS SINGING AS THEY STAY TOGETHER JOINED AT THE FOREHEAD FOR A FEW SECONDS BEFORE SLOWLY PULL APART, A MANTRA OF ‘SET ME FREE’ FOLLOWING THE TWO OF THEM AS THEY MEET ONE ANOTHER’S EYES

- THOR IS GRINNING

- SO HARD

- dizzee has straight up just kissed the boy he’s crushing on well enough for thor to look at him like dizzee is the SUN AND SKY

- they dance together a bit and then the beautiful girl joins them and it’s probably the best romance story ever written.  romeo and juliet who?  i don’t know them. 

- anyway

- i’m sick of this show blasting me with emotions i’m a weak bitch i can’t handle it

anonymous asked:

Hey! From that huge au list that you said you were accepting prompts on, could you possibly do stucky, the "I hit you with my car and I'm the only one who visited at the hospital, you okay?" with steve being the one hit by the car? It's a sick day for me and it feels like I've exhausted all good fanfiction... you're my only hope!

“Which flower arrangement says ‘I’m very sorry for running you over in my car’?” Bucky asks into his phone, frantically looking between an arrangement with tulips and an orchid.

There’s a long pause, then Natasha asks very level, very calm, “James?”

“Yes?”

“What did you do?” she asks in that same, calm voice.

“I RAN SOMEONE OVER WITH MY CAR,” Bucky yells. “I JUST SAID THAT.”

“Excuse me sir,” says the little old woman shopping next to him.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry for yelling,” Bucky says. “I’ll be quiet.”

“No, no, dear, that’s not the issue,” she says.

“Oh, then am I in your way?” he asks.

“No, it’s just that I’m about to leave the store, and drive home. I’m hoping that you’ll give me a few minutes’ head start before you leave, too.”

He nods and smiles at the old lady, then goes back to his phone. “I wish I were dead,” he says, still smiling.

“Daffodils are nice,” Natasha says.

— —

It’s probably presumptuous to go visit the guy you hit with your cat in the hospital and Bucky’s pretty sure that if his insurance company knew about Bucky going over there they’d be pissed, but you can’t just run someone over with your car and not visit them in the hospital. That’d just be bad form.

Bad form like not stopping all the way at a stop sign and grazing the pedestrian who is crossing the street.

He knocks on the door. “Uh, hi,” he says, looking at the guy laying in bed.

The guy sits up a little, then winces. “Hi,” he says. “You lost?”

“No, at least… I don’t think so. You’re Steve Rogers?” The guy nods. “Okay, well, I’m Bucky Barnes and I maybe sort of hit you with my car,” he says, hiding behind the bouquet of daffodils a little. He peeks out from behind it. “Sorry about that,” he adds.

The guy snorts. “Believe it or not, it’s not the first time I’ve been hit by a car,” he says, “and you just tapped me.” He shrugs. “Honestly, I wouldn’t even be in here if it weren’t for my pre-existing conditions.” He perks up a little. “Are those for me?” he asks, looking at the flowers.

“Yeah,” Bucky says, walking forward towards the bed and holding the flowers out to Steve. “They are! They’re… daffodils.”

“I’m horribly allergic,” Steve says, grinning. “Gimme.”

“But you’re—“

“Already in the hospital,” Steve says, taking the flowers and smelling them. The yellow looks nice with his soft blond hair and it’s kind of cute when his thick black frame glasses slip down his nose while he sniffs. “Wow! These are great.”

“I’m glad you like them,” Bucky says, trying not to blush because the guy he ran over with his car is really stinking cute.

“Thanks for coming,” Steve says.

“Oh, uh,” Bucky says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “It was the least I could do.”

“I’m I the hospital so much that my friends don’t even notice at this point, so it’s nice to have some company.” He’s still holding the flowers, and looks down at them again like he can’t believe he really has them, and Bucky wonders why his friends wouldn’t come visit him in the hospital when he is obviously the most adorable dork in all of New York City. He looks back up at Bucky. “You want some pudding?” he asks. “I have some extra.”

— —

Two years later and Steve feeds Bucky a spoonful of pudding. “Yum,” Bucky says, smacking his lips together.

“I can’t believe you convinced the caterers to serve pudding,” Steve says, grinning.

“You know how some couples have special songs or places?” Bucky asks.

Steve nods. “Yeah,” he says.

“Well, our dessert is pudding,” he says.

Steve rolls his eyes. “I can’t believe you,” Steve says.

“And I still can’t believe that you agreed to marry some guy who ran you over with his car,” Bucky says.

Steve shrugs. “You didn’t have enough money to be worth suing,” he says. “And,” he adds, “you only grazed me.”

Bucky grins, leans in and kisses his new husband.

“And you grazed me with your love,” he says. “Same thing.”

“Not at all!” Steve squeaks and Bucky laughs and around them their friends and family dance awkwardly to a mediocre DJ and they’re husbands now, and Bucky will never, ever, run over anyone else for the rest of his life.

Written for the @nurseyweek prompt: “challenge.”

“I keep better time during hockey season,” Jack tells him once. “Easier to track a life in wins and losses than in idle days, eh?”

And Nursey can definitely relate, but he definitely doesn’t say so. Not when Bitty gets that look on his face at overhearing the conversation, like what Jack’s just said is the saddest thing to ever be uttered. The hockey robot who can’t quite human the way he should.

The thing is that Nursey is his own kind of robot, if he’s honest with himself. Which he tries not to be anymore. “Honesty” usually packs a punch that he would rather not suffer through if he can help it.

Robot Nursey is very good at projecting the appearance of a person that is the polar opposite of the person all of his internal thoughts and emotions want him to be. He can compartmentalize nearly any situational response that goes against this outward ruse. And he can neatly divide his own life up into a series of challenges that his careful mask has faced, and a collection of coping mechanisms to go with them.

Loving Dex has somehow become both.

Keep reading

Huntress in the Snow

What if Rhys had met Feyre back when she was still a little girl, alone in the woods and hunting for her family? Inspired by this beautiful work of art, here’s the hypothetical meeting between an abused, tired Rhysand and a tiny Feyre.

 

Rhysand rarely leaves Amarantha’s court Under the Mountain.

He rarely leaves her bedroom, for that matter. Life is just a frenzy of lies, sex, dancing, drinking, hatred and torture these days and he has long given up on making his existence bearable. He doesn’t really care anymore.

He doesn’t care for the stares they give him, the names. He doesn’t care for those pitying glances. He doesn’t care when Amarantha is straddling him, using him, her fingers pulling his hair.

Spring Court is covered in masks right now, but Rhysand might as well be wearing one, too. He doesn’t recognize himself in the mirror anymore. He murmurs things in her ears, he lies, promises, he kills on her behalf, he smirks and laughs and betrays, and he isn’t sure he can ever get back from that.

He’s doing it for Velaris and his beloved ones. That is what he tells himself, over and over and over again, when he’s buried inside her or when he snaps someone’s neck. It’s the only reason he’s still holding on. Velaris. Mor. Amren. His brothers. His court.

Court of Dreams. It’s like a bitter joke, ashes in his mouth. He doesn’t know if he will ever see them again. Doesn’t know if he wants to- after what he’s done.  

He probably won’t ever see them again. This nightmare will never end.

Life is miserable. Rhys doesn’t care.

With the way things are developing right now, his old enemy Tamlin is going to join them in a few years- 42 years have passed and that fool, that idiotic fool hasn’t managed to break the curse. If he realizes that he could save them all, Rhysand doesn’t know. Perhaps Tamlin is just trying to protect those he loves as well. Perhaps he’s trying- perhaps he’s fighting.

Perhaps he’s not.

Rhysand doesn’t care.

He also doesn’t care that Amarantha sends him to the human realm today. To find a group of fae from Dawn Court that have escaped; find them, bring them to her, watch her torture and kill them and fuck her afterwards. It’s nothing to him. He’ll play his part. He’ll be urgent and passionate- I’ve been aching for you, my queen, my everything, woman of my dreams- only you, only ever you- he’ll make her scream his name and kiss her afterwards.

All the while, he’ll be somewhere else. He’ll be talking to Amren, quietly. He’ll be drinking with Cass and Azriel, playing cards. He’ll be dancing with Mor. He’ll be walking through the streets of Velaris.

That’s the only thing he has. And even those memories are further and further away from him with each passing day. Rhysand is afraid that he’ll wake up some morning and find that there’s no fight left inside him- that he’ll just give up.

He looks around.

He’s in a forest, close to the wall. It’s spring, but snow still covers the trees and the ground. He will encounter no humans here- none of them would be so foolish, so daring to get this close to the wall. He sits down next to a stream, closes his eyes and just doesn’t think. A few, scattered moments of peace- he takes what he gets.

Just a few moments. Then he’ll hunt those poor bastards down.

Feyre is twelve, and she’s been roaming this forest for a year now. She’s been following the village’s hunters; copy the way they set their snarls, carry their bows. She has a dream: she’ll hunt so much food her father will get better again. Nesta and Elain will get fatter, rounder, and they will both find very handsome men to marry. Then it’ll be Feyre and her father, and she’ll hunt for him while he reads at home, and in the evening, she’ll cook for him and paint a little.

So far, she hasn’t ever shot anything bigger than a rabbit, and that one time was on accident. The snarls are what works better.

Nesta turned fifteen yesterday. Feyre knows her sister has hoped their father would say something, but he has forgotten all of their birthdays. Nesta has looked like murder all day long. Elain tried to talk to her, but she locked herself in their room.

Elain and Nesta are very sad, Feyre knows that. They remember more of their mother and they talk about her sometimes, exchanging bits and pieces of who she used to be. In the beginning, right after they moved into the little hut at the village’s edge, they tried to be there for her- but they have too much to worry about, now. They never even play with each other. They don’t thank her when she brings food home.

Feyre makes her way through the trees. She must always stay away from the wall- dangerous creatures are there, fae. She’s so afraid of them she has nightmares sometimes.

But today, some inner voice tells her that the wall is not dangerous. That no fae will hurt her. And almost by themselves, their feet make her walk closer and closer to the buzzing, invisible thing that separates their human world from the fae.

When she comes onto a clearing, she sees a man. He is sitting on a fallen tree branch next to a river and his head his lowered, almost as if he were praying. He doesn’t carry weapons, but his clothes are fine and elegant- he must be a rich merchant, lost in the woods.

Perhaps she’ll get a reward if she leads him out of here. Curiosity gets the better of her. “Are you okay?”, she calls over to him, and that is the exact same moment he looks up and meets her eyes.

It knocks the breath out of her. He’s a fae. His ears are long and pointed, and there is something otherworldly in his features that marks him as different.

This is it. She is going to die. Nesta and Elain and her father will starve because she’s not there anymore. How could she be so careless, hunting so close to the wall?

The man takes in her unwashed hair, her threadbare clothes, her make-shift bow. “You should not be here”, he rasps. “You should run.”

Feyre tries to be a still as she can be. The man doesn’t get up, doesn’t come closer. As if he knows that she’ll start screaming if he does.

“Go”, he commands, angry. “Don’t ever come here again. Understand me? Don’t go into the forest at all. Stay at home.”

And she should do just that, run until she’s far away from him, but…

“I have to”, Feyre says. “I have to hunt.”

“No, you don’t. A small girl like you should stay with her family.”

“You don’t understand.” She steps closer, her bow still ready in her hand. “My family will starve if I don’t. I am doing all of this for them.”

The man breathes in, sharply, and she swears that she sees devastation in his eyes. “What?”

“My father can’t take care of us.” Why the words are spilling from her mouth like that, Feyre doesn’t know. “And my sisters are scared. I have to be strong, even when I’m afraid- for them.”

The man stares at her.

“Are you going to hurt me?”, Feyre asks. She tries to hide that she is scared of that fae. She tries to pretend that she could shoot him, if she wanted.

He shakes his head, slowly. “Of course not.”

“What are you doing here, then? Shouldn’t fae be on the other side of the wall?”

The man smiles a bitter smile. “Usually, we should. But I…was allowed a little freedom today.”

“Are you a hunter, too?”

He closes his eyes. “I suppose.”

“Then you’re a little bit like me.”

“Well.” He laughs. “Not really. But I am doing this for my family, too. All of this.”

Feyre doesn’t know why, but for some strange reason, it makes her very happy that the man has a family. That he’s not alone.

“That’s good”, she smiles. “You should go be with them, not sit in the forest by yourself.”

He nods. “You’re right, of course. As should you.”

Feyre steps as close to him as she dares. The fae is very pretty, she realizes. All the older village girls would probably be in love with him. But he looks sad, she thinks, and she doesn’t know why, but it makes her heart ache a little. She wants him smiling.

“Here.” The fae nods his head and suddenly, a basket filled with bread and meat appears in the snow. “Take that home to your family. It should give you enough food to eat for the next few weeks. I can’t- I wish I could do more. But my hands are quite literally tied.”

“Is this some sort of trick?”, Feyre asks. “Some bargain? Some fairy magic?”

The fae shakes his head, a flicker of amusement on his face. “No bargain, little girl. Although I’m impressed you’re already so wary for your age.”

Feyre picks up the basket. This is better than the time she shot the rabbit. This is all of her birthdays combined. “Thank you- what’s your name?”

“Rhys”, he says, looking at his hands. “That’s what my friends call me.”

“That family you told me about?”

“Yes”, Rhys says softly. “My family.”

Feyre smiles at him. It comes so easy, the smile- because something deep inside her core tells her that she doesn’t need to be afraid of him. And she trusts that. “Thank you, Rhys. Your family is lucky to have you. You just saved mine today.”

He still looks so very sad. “Then that’s something”, he says hoarsely. “Before you go- one thing.”

And suddenly there are talons in her head, and she can’t move anymore.

“It’ll be over in a few moments”, Rhys says. “But I can’t let you remember me. She’ll find out, somehow. She’ll break you just for fun.”

Some white blanket is thrown over her mind, and the next second, Feyre finds herself alone in the woods.

What just happened? Why is she here?

Oh, yes- she remembers- the rich merchant who she met on her way here showed mercy and handed her the basket-

What on earth is she doing so close to the wall?

Feyre turns around and runs. Today is such a good day. She feels happy, not just because of the gift…but because of something else.

And maybe she can get through all of this.

Maybe she’ll find a way out of this someday.  

Rhys has never done something like this, but he forces himself to forget her. He pushes her image into the very, very back of his mind, he uses his magic on himself and forces himself to forget about that girl in the snow, that tiny, little huntress.

Because for some reason, he knows that she is important. For what, he doesn’t know. But he’ll do what it takes to keep her hidden from Amarantha.  

It makes him cry out in pain to use those talons on himself, but-

Rhys finds himself standing somewhere in the forest.

Why is he still here? He should go- hunt those Dawn fae down.

There’s a weird feeling of goodness in the back of his mind. Of happiness. And he remembers- that those he loves are out there. That somehow, someday, he’ll see them again. That there is a reason for everything.

He feels hope, and he doesn’t know why.

I have to be strong, even when I’m afraid- for them, whispers a voice inside his head. He knows who said it-

A girl-

He can’t remember. But that feeling lingers.

That night, when Amarantha is on top of him, moving and moaning about how good this feels after a kill, all he can think is the clock is ticking, you bitch. You’ll go down soon. Someone will come and end you.

When she leaves him, he showers and washes her scent off him. Someone is out there, he thinks. Someone good. This world is not completely lost. And for some reason, he cares again. Cares about what happens. Cares about who wins. Suddenly, he wants to fight.

That night, he has the strangest dream. It’s a hand, unpacking a basket full of bread, apples and meat. A small hand; a child’s hands. But it makes him so inexplicably happy he thinks about that dream for days.

A few years later, when Rhysand has long forgotten about everything, he dreams of that same hand again.

Only this time that delicate, female hand is drawing flowers on a table.

And something inside Rhysand whispers, soon.

Soon.

Soon.

anonymous asked:

If Allison could say anything to the pack, like individually, what do you think she would say?

To Malia– Understanding that it’s okay to depend on people, and have them depend on you, is one of the most important lessons you will learn. Keep it close. 

To Liam– Scott didn’t have an alpha to guide him, to protect him, to give him an opportunity to make mistakes. I know you’re young and that this is scary, but understand that there is safety in the family Scott created for you– for all of us. In return, I only ask you to take care of him the way he will always take care of you.

To Kira– I want you to be with him. I want you to bring sunshine into his life, I want him to have someone who understands what he goes through, I want someone who makes him smile. I was glad you were with him when I was alive, and I still am now that I’m gone. 

To Isaac– You are not alone. You will never, ever be alone. Even when it seems like you are by yourself, you are not. People love you, care about you, need you, appreciate you. Some people in this world think about you every day, know things about you, know exactly how important you are. You matter, both to this world and to other people. You aren’t alone and you never will be again. 

To Stiles– I know you know you’ve changed, and that sometimes that scares you, and you aren’t quite sure of the person you are. I know that you know the mistakes you make and you feel like they’ll haunt you for the rest of your life. But ever since I have known you, no matter how bad things got, no matter how pessimistic you were, you always had one thing: Hope. I remember standing in a parking lot with you, so long ago, and telling Scott that there’s always hope. And do you know how I knew that? Because you were there, stepping into the gasoline with him, risking your life for him. Your hope, Stiles, is built on how much you love other people. That’s where all your light and energy and brightness comes from. When it happens, you shine brilliantly. So don’t let go of it. Don’t let go of her. 

To Lydia– The first day of school, you told me that I was your new best friend. Do you want to know why I listened? Because before you, I had never had a best friend– and now I know that you hadn’t too. Lydia, there are some people in this world who experience so much pain, so much loss, that they wallow in it until they drown. But you never let yourself do that, and sometimes I think that’s why you were so lonely. You shielded yourself from pain instead, never letting yourself feel it until it clawed its way into you. At first, I liked spending time with you because you helped me escape the crazy expectations of my parents and the fear of the real world. But then I liked spending time with you because I realized that the sense of normalcy it brought to me was the exact same one it brought to you. Lydia, you were the one who taught me that it’s okay not to be brave all the time. So I’m going to teach you something in return now. I’m going to tell you that it’s okay to lift up your gates and let people in. I know it feels like everyone in life has left you, hurt you, disappointed you– everyone including myself. But Lydia? There are people who know the bits and pieces of you that are broken and still love you. There are people who see underneath the makeup and fake smiles and know that you’re hurting and want to help you. There are people who think you look beautiful when you cry. And one day, you’re going to walk down the hallway towards someone and your heart is going to hammer against your chest and you aren’t going to be able to resist smiling at how pure all of it is. And when that happens, just for a moment, I want you to think of me. I want you to think of me and imagine me saying I told you so. I told you that you deserve to be open, deserve to be safe, deserve to be loved by someone just as much as you love them. Lydia… you may have taught me that you don’t have to be brave all the time, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t brave every moment of every day. 

To Scott–  When I was a little girl, my favorite Disney prince was Shang. “Why?” my parents asked, seeming amused about it, at the time. “Because,” I told them, like it was obvious. “He saves people. He’s a hero.” In hindsight, I think my parents found it fitting that a daughter of an Argent would favor a Disney Prince who was a general. But hindsight works for me too, and now I know, Scott McCall, that I was always supposed to fall in love with you. You are the greatest hero I have ever met. You are a hero to the entirety of Beacon Hills. You are a hero to the supernatural community. You are a hero to your best friends. And you are a hero to a random little girl whose dog you take pain from, hoping he’ll suffer as little as possible. In loving you, in learning from you, in getting to stand next to you for a small pocket of your life, you allowed me to become a version of myself that I was proud to die as. Before you, Scott, I didn’t have anybody in my life who I would sacrifice myself for. But I know that you, every single day, wake up and carry the weight of loving people around on your back. In that, you are heavier than Atlas, you are stronger than Hercules, you are smarter than Odysseus. You are the true hero of my life, Scott McCall. I want to tell you take a second for yourself every few days, but I know that it would be a moot point. So here’s what I will tell you instead: find joy in whatever and whomever you can. Caring about people like you do might sometimes seem fruitless, but you won’t give up, I know you won’t. And when you want to, put some of your weight on me. Know that I’m still here. I’m standing right next to you, supporting you, protecting you, loving you. My first love, my only love, Scott McCall. I’d promise to write you into the stars, but you’ve already made your place in the sky without any help from me. I’ll be here, though. Just promise to take your time coming to find me. 

yoongi; i will still love you tomorrow

❝as long as you don’t give up on yoongi, he won’t give up on you.
►1832 words // scenario
ⓒ scan credit

Yoongi finds himself waking up to the noises in bed than the ones outside of the apartment. The night hasn’t even had the chance to die out yet, still basking in the sky with darkness and it makes the moon glow twice as bright with the stars scattered like glitter for such a beautiful masterpiece but… Yoongi can’t appreciate that now.

He turns his head to his side, cheek pressed to the pillow as his eyes stare at the back of your head. His thoughts are formulating past the haze of coming to wake, blinking past sleepiness and pushing down his needs of catching up on rest to focus on how you refuse to look at him. Remaining unmoving and with staggered breathing, Yoongi uses his voice and calls out for you. It sounds weird, almost foreign because he would’ve never expected to speak at this hour but with the blaring numbers of 3:21 blinking by the side, it’s a reminder he’s awake and yes, his mouth works.

Your name is being dissolved into the air and rattling gently against your eardrums. From one call after another, growing louder in desperation and falling pin drop quiet in the next, it makes your body flinch when cold fingertips slide underneath your nightshirt and over your hipbones. 

“I know you’re awake,”

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  • Me: *sigh*
  • Cashier: What's wrong?
  • Me: It's the scent of this place. It's nostalgic. Reminds me of lavender scent of my grandmother's house. Even color of the walls remind me of the bygone era of my childhood; the dim sunsets of a fuzzy summer evenings, and faint memory of fading dreams.
  • Cashier: Ah, you want to start all over do you? I know the feeling. It's enough to drive me to the brink.
  • Me: Verily. At some point, I began to live my life in retrospect. The now doesn't matter anymore because everything has become so bland. What am I to do in this monotonous life when my happy times passed so long ago. It's as if-
  • Cashier: *turns into a 9 foot tall vibrating metal cube that deconstructs me at a molecular level and turns me into pure radium powder*
  • Guy, with that as fetish who actually wrote this post: *doesn't even jack it just looks at the screen all sweaty and breathing heavily*
  • Girlfriend: *walks into the room unannounced* Everything okay? You've been acting kind of strange recently.
  • Guy: *quickly closes all tabs* Oh, nothing. I'm just like. I'm... you know. I've been tired.
  • Girlfriend: *suspiciously* ...sure. Pizza's here by the way.
  • Guy: Okay, cool. I'll be right out. *wipes sweat from head*
  • Girlfriend: *texts best friend* He's definitely cheating. He just closed like twenty tabs on his computer!!!!!!!
  • Best Friend: Did you look through his browsing history?
  • Girlfriend: Yeah, it's all wikipedia pages about radioactive stuff. It's so fucking weird. He's either cheating or a terrorist.
  • Best Friend: That's creepy. I'd break up with him.
  • Girlfriend: I've been considering it, but it's complicated. I still feel so strongly about him. I don't want to ruin our relationship.
  • Best Friend: Sometimes you have to break things off with the people you care about the most. For a little bit anyway.
  • Girlfriend: Yeah, I get that. It's so hard though. I can't imagine life without him.
  • Best Friend: You have to do what you have to do. It's the only way to move forward. Getting stuck in a stagnant relationship can ruin you.
  • Girlfriend: I guess you're right...
  • Best Friend: *is wearing a full hazmat suit.*
  • Doctor: *walks up behind her* Jennifer, stop texting. We need you in the bottom.
  • Best Friend: Sorry, got it.
  • Best Friend: *descends in elevator, sees 9 foot tall humanoid ant corpse on the ground* Fucking gross! Do you know where it came from.
  • Doctor: No clue. It's why we called you here.
  • Best Friend: This isn't like any cryptid I've ever seen. It must be extraterrestrial in origin. Wait... is its body full of gummy worms? *hears the sound of the elevator going up behind her*
  • Best Friend: Doctor! Where are you going!? What the fuck!?
  • Doctor: Waves to her from the elevator.
  • Ant Humanoids: *appear from the shadows in the hundreds*
  • Best Friend: No, no, no, no! This can't be happening.
  • Ant Humanoids: *surround her*
  • Best Friend: Don't fucking come near me! I'm highly radioactive! You'll all die if you eat me.
  • Ant Humanoid in the back: *listening to comic book podcast*
  • Podcast Guy 1: So when it comes to Superman, I feel like there are actually two characters. Clark Kent, the man. Then there's Superman, the ideal. They're the same person but represent very different aspects of him.
  • Podcast Guy 2: Comic books are fucking stupid, my dude. *cellphone buzzes* Hold up, I gotta take this.
  • Podcast Guy 2: *gets an alert that his favorite fetish forum has updated, licks lips fuckingly*
  • Podcast Guy 2: *under breath* Oh yeah. A new radium dust sexual fanfic. Can't wait to tweak my noodle to this! Zoo wee mama!
  • Podcast Guy 1: What did you just say.
  • Podcast Guy 2: Nothing, man. We were talking about Superman. Let's continue with that.
  • Podcast Guy 1: Yeah, as I was saying. Superman would definitely be a power bottom and
Flower Boy

Summary: Phil’s a little shy with his newfound friend during a school field trip.

Genre: High School AU, flower boy!pastel!Phil, punk!Dan

Warnings: none

A/N: So I wrote this instead of doing my astronomy homework. It’s short and sweet, not much editing, but I love it. I’m a huge sucker for pastel!phil and punk!dan, though. This is dedicated to the anon that said they’d love to read this and @dooloonoo since this is her favorite trope. Hope you guys enjoy! Also, a new chapter of Sugar on Top will be out soon. I promise.

Maybe I’ll make a Part Two of this someday.


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Origins

Summary: Ryan sweeps into Gavin the Third’s life, turns his world upside down, and then has to pick up the pieces.

(Eleven Little Roosters fic)

a/n: Silly thing I wrote to practice their characterisations, but I’ll post it as my gift to all of you freewood people waiting for them to interact in the show LOL

c/w: brief mentions of suicide, nothing actually happens

AO3


Ryan met with Gavin the Third in a small but painfully expensive restaurant overlooking the Thames. The agent was already there when he arrived, sitting by the window with a glass of red wine in hand and three plates of tiny appetisers in front of him that Ryan was quite sure had already amounted to several hundred pounds despite seeming to barely contain more than a mouthful of actual food.

“Gavin,” he said as he approached, and the other man’s eyes flicked up to him.

It still gave Ryan a jolt, how fucking identical he looked to Ryan’s old coworker. But not just to the two Gavins who he’d met back at Rooster Teeth. To the student he’d met while investigating the wormhole that’d opened in some university science lab. To the Golden Boy who worked with gangs over in Los Santos. To that idiot running around with a Union Jack on his chest claiming to be a superhero who’d been in all the papers lately.

They were all over the fucking place, and maybe Ryan should’ve been used to that same giant nose popping up everywhere, but somehow - every time - it still made him feel an odd guilt. A flash back to his life before all this.

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anonymous asked:

I'm so effing mad! Westallen got two proposals and Olicity is still not even back together. It's not fair!

(I just got back from the gym and was making dinner when I got this email and I stopped everything to climb my sweaty ass up the stairs to sit down and answer this.)

It’s not fair?

You’re right, it’s not fair. 

To Westallen.

Wait! Hang on, that’s not right. It might not be fair to them if they had similar journeys to compare, but they are so radically different that to even put them in the same sentence is ridiculous.

I can’t speak for Westallen, I don’t watch The Flash, but I can speak for Olicity:

I don’t agree, lovely anon. I think it’s needed and it’s worth it.

Listen, the reason I love Arrow (and part of why I stopped watching The Flash) is that it’s dark as fuck and it doesn’t shy away from it. It is still a CW show so it’s not, like, HBO/Netflix/Cinemax levels of dark, but it’s still far more gritty and dark than the other shows. This means we’re dealing with a main character who has serious and severe mental and emotional shit to deal with, which has been the main point of his entire journey all this time. 

Oliver can’t have the life he wants because he still believes he doesn’t deserve it. He is still on the path towards realizing he does deserve it. The other shows are different, in many ways, but this is one of the main reason why Oliver and Felicity aren’t together (yet). It’s also the main reason why when they finally do get back together, when Oliver realizes he is worthy, when they understand each other better, when Felicity has gone through her own island, when they learn to forgive, when they learn to communicate and relate to each other and open up to each other… it will stick. It won’t be easy, but it will stick.

Arrow is frustrating beyond belief for about eleventy billion reasons, but the main thing - the main goddamn thing - that I love about it is that it’s satisfying. Not all of it, not everything, because this is still a CW show and it’s on a network that won’t let me see some damn side-boob or Amell’s muscular ass or hear the word ‘shit’ and ‘fuck’ every once in a while, but emotionally? In the grand scheme? For me, it’s so much more satisfying than the other shows and that’s why I’m super okay going through absolute hell to get to the other side. Season 5 has been incredibly trying, but I trust the overall arc, I really do.

Also, even if Oliver and Felicity had stayed together, it wouldn’t have lasted. They weren’t ready, which is why they broke up. The story we’re seeing now is their journey back to each other as far more stable and mature human beings who will also have the unique ability to say they can understand each other’s positions a little bit better. They had to go through all of the shit they’ve been through to get to a point where they will get back together, and stay together. 

Love is not a cure-all, love does not fix anything, love does not take broken people and magically heal them. It shows us parts of ourselves that we didn’t know were there, or parts that we deliberately ignored, parts that we need to face in order to become a better version of ourselves. Just because Oliver and Felicity love each other doesn’t mean they were ready to be together at that point. But, now? Now, they are getting there, slowly but surely.

And if you don’t think we’ll all fucking die when it finally happens, you’re wrong.

I lost my point a bunch of words ago, so long story short:

We’re going to get another proposal and engagement, and it will be fucking amazing because we’ve been through goddamn hell to get here so fret not, anon. 

Our journey is just a bit longer than theirs, and in my humble opinion, it will make the payoff so much better.

anonymous asked:

Why do you love Arrow? (I'm the same anon who asked why you watch Arrow. Hint : While I love your gif responses it's your words that always hit me so hard so give me some words please Matty)

Oh, anon. Since you specifically wanted words, here you go. This is something I’ve said before and I’ll say it till my dying day. 

I love Arrow. 

Because this show has given me so, so much, I’m not certain I’ll ever be able to express it completely.

Arrow came into my life at a point when I was at my lowest. I was emotionally messed up in every way conceivable, everything had fallen apart, all at once. I’d shut down in real life and was barely coping. It was one big depressive fest. And it was dark. So, so dark.

And then Arrow happened.

I know it sounds cheesy - all this light and dark thing, but for me it was true. I have no idea why, but one day I was watching the show and it just clicked.

And for me, it was beautiful.

It gave me Oliver Queen, who inspired me deep down to my bones, who gave me the strength and the courage to keep moving forward no matter how bad things seemed, to believe that they’ll always get better, making me the silver lines chaser I am today. He gave me the will to keep fighting and I will love him till my dying day. (And he introduced me to the salmon ladder. That in itself earns him my love).

It gave me Felicity Smoak, who told me it was okay to be awkward, that being a hero and being good did not need a mask, that being a person completely comfortable in their strengths and a good heart was more important. She made me realize that a girl should take pride in her hard work and just be who she is, no matter what.

It gave me John Diggle, who honestly speaks words of wisdom to Oliver and I’m nodding my head vigorously. He told me that no matter what ugly things you see and live through, you can rise above them and not be it. 

It made me believe in a love born true from the soul. It made me understand that family and friendships were made of heart and not blood. It made me believe in the strength of the spirit inside each and every one of us, no matter our circumstances. It told me that it doesn’t matter whether you’re a rich kid stranded on an island considered dead by the world; or if you were a soldier who’d lost his brother; or if you were a little girl abandoned by every man in your life; or if you were a pampered princess who finds out her entire life has been built on lies; or if you were a billionaire who’d lost his wife to street violence; or if you were a soldier in love with a woman who loved another man; or if you were a street kid with no family and nothing except this rage inside you that wouldn’t die; or if you were a normal man with money who’d lost his best friend and found him again, only to realize he was a liar and a murderer… it doesn’t matter what your circumstances are - what matters is how you respond to them. It’s your choice to become the villains of your own story, your choice to become the heroes. It’s on you if you want to drown the world in your pain or rise above it and make something beautiful of it. 

It’s always your choice. 

There could have been no greater villain than Oliver Queen had he made a choice. There could have been no force stopping Felicity Smoak from destroying the world at her fingers had she made a choice.

But they chose to be heroes, chose to rise above their pasts for a better future.

It’s so damn beautiful.

Over time, this gave me the courage to rise beyond mine slowly. To step into the fandom. I lurked around and stalked people mostly in the beginning (although it was never that creepy), and over time, one step at a time, I entered this crazy place and was just consumed by the sheer intensity of it.

I know these are fictional characters, but what they inspire in me is not fiction. It’s very, very real and living my life with these characters has made it so much richer.

Because it’s through this show that I’ve met so many beautiful people who make me smile every single day. It’s through this show that I’ve made friends I know are going to stay with me for a long time. It’s because of this that I can come back here on a bad day and leave with a huge grin on my face.

Because it’s this show and its characters who pushed me into finding the strength to put words on a screen. This show made me want to tell stories. It made me realize it was okay to share my thoughts and from being quiet, it’s made me evolve into someone confident enough in her thoughts to voice them. It has given me a tolerance for opinions and respect for choices, all the interactions with such varied people. 

I’ve grown more over the last few years writing these characters than I have in my entire life. The changes it’s brought in me are almost tangible.

It made me want to write and write and write and just keep on writing and sharing so many stories.

It’s given me passion.

It’s given me perspective.

It’s given me understanding.

It’s given me strength.

But most importantly, it’s given me hope.

Hope. So hard to find. So hard to hold on to. So hard to let go of.

This show has consistently given me so much hope, for me.

And no matter which direction it goes in, I will always, always love Arrow and its characters for giving me so, so much when I had absolutely nothing.  

I love Arrow, and I always will, for the person it’s made me so subtly over time.

anonymous asked:

What do you think makes the caryl relationship NON platonic?

Non platonic? Okay *cracks knuckles*. Here we go.

Okay so I suppose I’ll add something first. Daryl is not a touchy feely person. So for him any sort of physical contact is something to be noted. Carol is the only one he has given a massage to, Carol is the only one to have kissed him (twice might I add) and they’ve shared numerous hugs.

Unfortunately the show being written the way it’s written it leaves very little time for our two love birds to actually blossom. One of them is always either gone or is going through a state of emotional hurting (making it very hard for anything other than comfort and non platonic shows of affection appropriate). Also any scenes we do get where there is a chance for progression is more than often rudely interrupted (you’ll see what I mean as I go though).

We’ll start with the biggest contender in the mix, (and one of my favourite Caryl scenes may I add) the season three bus scene.

Originally posted by blondsecrets

The idea of a platonic relationship does not involve making jokes about ‘screwing around’ nor does it about ‘going down first’ either. That moment in the gif above where Carol glances back at Daryl and his eyes flicker up from what he’s doing to meet hers and his movements stop, well, (and take this as you will) I feel like Daryl stopped because he realised how sexually under toned what he was doing was. Both of them obviously feeling the same hence Carol’s sexual jokes.

Moving swiftly on.

This scene below. A whole massive, shit load of feels for this whole episode, but this moment in particular. Had this scene been allowed to play out, not only do I think there would have been more room for Carol to actually vent her emotions, but I think something else could have progressed. I was rather content to watch them on a bed together for however long they would have chose to stay there. The fact that Daryl is even comfortable laying on a bed next to Carol is a notable point, he breaks so many of his no contact, no affection rules with her and honest to god I feel like they just need time to initiate that (season 8 I’m looking at you).

Originally posted by gracefull-mess

Okay just imagine, they were allowed just 30 more seconds of lying there, heads gradually turn towards each other, Daryl’s hooded eyes glancing between her eyes and her mouth, Carol knowing what he was asking without him having to say a word and BAM…but of course, interruptions are key and happiness is not allowed for my babies.

Originally posted by vskultetyova11

So this moment above is my all time Caryl fav and if Rick the Prick hadn’t been lurking to cockblock I honestly believe that this moment would have progressed to a kiss. I mean he goddamn fucking nuzzles her! Her hands cradle his face, all she had to do was pull him forward. I spent the whole of this scene anticipating a kiss, I feel like this was a moment just waiting to happen. But of course it was ruined.

Originally posted by alwaysthequietones

THIS. THIS RIGHT HERE. I feel like the first hug was more full of hurt, relief and unresolved tension. But this one? Do not tell me this was not full of pure romance, I wish he hadn’t had to leave. Again this was left with so much potential to open up that physical side of their relationship that is yet to be uncovered but is so clearly there. This goes past just platonic for me, for me I feel like there is something more that they want to establish, just never the right time or situation.

Bonus content - Eye fucks for daysss (no one looks at someone like that and does not want to bed them, end of):

Originally posted by teamcarylmundial

Originally posted by luzifermorgenstern

Originally posted by oohhshiny

Originally posted by oohhshiny

Originally posted by thetempestshow

Originally posted by oohhshiny

Thank you for your ask.

xox

  • Yang: ... *Yang was frowning annoyingly with each blink turning her eyes red for a second.*
  • Blake: Come on Yang. Cheer up. We are just going to spend sometime with my mom and dad before we go out tonight for our Valentine's date.
  • Yang: ... yeah. *Yang grumbled.*
  • Blake: *Blake looked at her girlfriend with worry as she places a hand on her shoulder.* I don't understand why you are so upset. You love my parents and they love you. You are normally rushing me to embarrass me with how much you love me.
  • Yang: *At this Yang's frown turned upside into a small smile as she wrapped her hand around Blake's wraist to pull her closer and give her a kiss on the cheek.* I know Blake. I know. I am excited for our date tonight and to see your parents. It's just...
  • Blake: What?
  • Yang: Sigh. It's just *Yang then pointed her robotic finger towards the person walking besides them.* Why did you have to invite HER with us?
  • Raven: I've have been wondering that myself. *Raven said with an emotionless expression.*
  • Blake: Well the two of you have been at each others throats ever since your little talk about the maiden and think that during our time here when I'm with my parents you two can talk over your issue... In the dessert areas... where there aren't any buildings to destroy.
  • Yang: That was her fault!
  • Raven: You were the one who went through the wall.
  • Yang: BECAUSE YOU THROW ME THROW IT YOU PSYCHO BITCH! OW! *Yang growled as she rubbed her head.*
  • Raven: *Raven Frowned at her daughter as she placed her sheathed sword back on her side.* This Psycho bitch is still your mother so watch what you say. *the mother and daughter then glared at each other before Blake quickly moved between them and pulled them to the front door of her home.*
  • Blake: Aaaaand we are here. Thank god. *Blake muttered under her breath with relief, knocking on the door.*
  • Kali: Hello? Oh! Blake honey. *Kali greeted happily as she swung open the door and pulled her daughter into a hug.* It's so good to see you.
  • Blake: Hey mom. It's good to see you too. *She smiled returning the hug, in the back of her mind wish Yang and Raven could have the same relationship.*
  • Yang: Hey Mrs. Belladonna. *Yang smiled setting down her bags as she held out her arms after Kali and Blake finished their hug*
  • Kali: Hahaha. Oh Yang. You know you don't have to be so formal. *Kali laughed giving Yang a hug.* You can call me Kali or mom since you will be after you two's wedding.
  • Blake: MOM! *Blake blushed.*
  • Yang: Oh Speaking of moms. Kali, meet my birth mothe-
  • Kali: Raven. *Kali interrupted staring at the dark haired woman in shock as Raven looked surprised herself.*
  • Ghira: Honey? How is at the door? Is Blake and... Yang... here? *Ghira said as she appeared from the door only to trail off upon seeing Raven.*
  • Raven: Hello Kali... Ghira...
  • Blake: *Blake and Yang looked between their parents and then at eachother when Blake speaked forward and pointed between them.* You three... Know each other?
  • Ghira: You could say that. *Ghira frowned crossing his arms.*
  • Kali: W-why don't we take your bags to your rooms? Come a long dear. *Kali said with a nervous smile and blush as she quickly took Yang and Blake's bag and headed inside dragging Ghira along.*
  • Blake: That... is the first time I ever seen my mom being... bashful.
  • Yang: Okay. What the hell did you do? *Yang questions slightly glaring at her mom.*
  • Raven: *Raven meanwhile seemed to have been staring at Kali as she walked away before taking a deep breath and patting Yang's back.* Well, now I see that we have the same taste when it comes to pussy cats. *With that Raven then headed inside with a smirk on her lips.*
  • Yang: ...
  • Blake: ...
  • Yang: ... Blake?
  • Blake: Yes Yang?
  • Yang: ... Just to clarify... You don't think that my mom... and your mom...
  • Blake: I really don't want or ever want to know.
  • Yang: Oh god.
  • Blake: What?
  • Yang: Now when your mom told me that I reminded her of a girl she meet makes sense now it the most disturbing way.
  • Blake: Same for why my dad has so many empty birdcages around the house.
  • *Both girls shivered trying to forget the fact they have just learned they their mothers were only them.*

anonymous asked:

1/2 (While i do NOT ask this to be negative at all, i realize it could be a controversial topic so feel free not to answer!) I have a friend who stopped watching SPN a few years ago after, according to her, they jumped the shark to the point she just couldn't take the show seriously anymore. Now, i'm so deep in fandom it's hard to step back and be objective, but that's not the first time i've heard that complaint, and it got me thinking; obviously i love the show.

2/2 But it did make me casually wonder what keeps me coming back to it specifically, because ibr if any other show had made some of the same writing, plot, etc. choices as SPN has, i’d diagnose it with a serious case of the trope “seasonal rot” and move on. But i haven’t. And i think it’s because SPN is SO character driven. Like, these characters make the show and the genuine heart and love shows through in the writing. I think that’s what balances out the at times questionable quality for me.

Hi there. I just reblogged this post over here that mostly expresses my feelings about this:

http://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/160986841910/hey-i-stopped-watching-spn-like-during-season

I think it’s really not accurate (nor fair) to describe the character growth and narrative progression as “seasonal rot.” I think that’s sincerely missing the point.

From a podcast interview with Davy Perez shortly after 12.04 aired (Not About The Weather, episode 8):

(Sorry, y’all, I started transcribing this two hour long interview, spent two days transcribing the first hour last November, got to 7.5k, and haven’t had a chance to finish… )

N: It’s really interesting, because what you mentioned as well with Dean when he was living his sort of normal life with Lisa and Ben, it’s interesting as well because we’re six years on from that. So how do you look at that kind of thing and then go okay. How do you stop it being regressive, if you know what I mean? How do you go like, oh, he’s actually grown from that, or if he hasn’t or if he has. How do those decisions get made?

DP: For me I think it’s funny because I might have read it in a book somewhere, or maybe it was advice I got, in regards to writing television versus writing film. When you’re writing a film, you’re writing what is hopefully a complete journey, where a character gets called to action, where they go on their journey of discovery or their journey of tribulation, and then they arrive to an end point and you find, “Oh, I’ve learned this lesson,” or “I’ve grown so much.” And that was a satisfying, closed-ended story. Television doesn’t work that way. Television is about a character that you become invested in, and that you fall in love with. That character grows in incremental ways. Not only do they grow in tiny little increments, and sometimes don’t even grow, they go backwards. You don’t close the loop. You keep the loop open, so that hopefully when you know that okay, this is our final season, this is our final run of episodes, that’s when you can find those landing points, and that’s when you can sort of say this is the end of this journey.
As far as having to imagine what Dean might be eight years ago, well all I can say is that’s who Dean is. There’s a well of knowledge to watch, and you can see that that’s who he is. Maybe they’ve grown in some small way. Maybe Sam can talk about the psychic stuff where maybe before he didn’t even want to talk about it, but he’s not a completely different Sam in that he’s learned from his mistakes and will never make the mistakes again. You want to make sure that you’re staying true to who they are, and allowing the characters to just live in those moments, and to of course grow and have that journey, but to really take time. In an essence you really enjoy those incremental growths and they mean so much more.

This is exactly what I’ve described as the “spiral narrative” where the same things come up over and over again, putting the characters in similar situations. But this has become a character-driven narrative. The mytharc is entirely secondary to what the characters are going through.

Playing “spot the difference” each time you see a “wait, that’s really familiar” moment is where you really SEE those incremental growths. This is not “seasonal rot.” I find myself irrationally offended on behalf of the writers here… like, got up and stormed around the house ranting out loud to myself.

So when meta writers talk about how the writers are doing all of this intentionally, we literally really truly do mean the writers are DOING THIS ALL INTENTIONALLY. They have even TOLD US THIS IS THE CASE IN ACTUAL WORDS.

I  wrote a thing recently that sort of touches on this a bit, that started out as a reply about character driven vs plot driven narratives, but I think it also goes a little way toward explaining some of the reasons why people are having difficulty understanding what the show is doing now:

http://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/159511693805/a-very-random-question-but-in-your-opinion-whats

If folks are still looking at the show as if it was actually a plot-driven narrative, there’s bound to be some sincere disappointment. But if you see it as a character-driven narrative, everything begins falling into place. I don’t mean to say that someone might be “watching wrong,” but if your impression is that the narrative is inconsistent and has made questionable plot choices, then I feel at least slightly obligated to politely suggest maybe watching it from THIS perspective and see if the entire picture doesn’t become perfectly clear.

Like this sculpture illustrates, look at it from the wrong angle and it all seems random. It’s supposed to inspire you to walk around looking at it all from DIFFERENT angles until the entire picture clicks into place.

This is the amazing beauty of the story Supernatural is telling us right now. I just want as many people as possible to realize this, because I think a lot of people right now are just seeing the random scattershot dots and feeling like they aren’t telling us a full story… I’m just trying to drag as many people around to the other side, to see what it looks like from where I’m sitting. Because it looks like art to me.

7. Chocolate // Nurseydex

« {Part 7 of my Valentine’s collection.} »

a/n: Written in part for Nursey Week. I used prompt 1, “Mistake”. Slight nsfw themes in this one.

“Oh, shit.”

Dex heard Nursey swear from the kitchen, sighed, and shut his laptop. This couldn’t be good.

“You okay?” Dex called, getting up from the green couch. “You didn’t drop the cookies or something, did you?”

He walked into the kitchen and saw Nursey, standing next to the counter, holding a burst piping bag and absolutely covered in chocolate icing. He looked a little stunned. Dex couldn’t help but laugh. Of all the many mistakes Nursey had made since Dex had known him, this one definitely ranked up in Dex’s top five favorites.

“What did you do?” Dex snickered. “It’s in your hair, how the fuck did you even get it there?”

“Uh,” Nursey said. He put down the broken bag. “I guess—I guess I just squeezed the bag too hard.”

The icing was on Nursey’s face, his hands, his neck, and his arms, but most of it had made its way onto his shirt. “You should probably deal with that,” Dex suggested. He pointed at Nursey’s chest. “You know, before it stains.”

“Oh, yeah,” Nursey said. He started unbuttoning his shirt.

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daddariossmile  asked:

Okay, so I'm thinking Malec, Alec as A, Magnus as B (or vice versa I'm not picky). Maybe a college setting? So... Person A and B doesn't really know each other at first. Person A is deaf. Person B slowly learns sign language. A casual "good morning" and "have a good weekend", then "merry Christmas" and the occasional "happy birthday". Later "will you be my valentine/date" and if course "can I kiss you". Person A is very in awe of the fact that someone is willing to do that for them.

the pressure of dealing with this amazing au ok here we go

  • so alec is probably the deaf one because i feel like that just fits the story i have in my head better
  • he wasn’t born deaf so he can more or less still talk perfectly well, but that obviously doesn’t make up for the fact he can’t hear
  • in fact, the only people alec actually talks around are izzy and jace, because if he tries to actually talk to anyone else, they start to talk back and it all gets very complicated from there on out
  • alec has been trying to lip read from the moment he lost his hearing, but it’s hard sometimes and getting things wrong and being completely unable to correct them without resorting to written words drives him crazy
  • (i’m no expert on deafness so i don’t want to make too many crazy claims without doing some proper research, but i figure he maybe lost it as a teen thanks to some viral thing, so learning sign language has been a bit of a process for him along with everyone else)
  • actually on that note, he, izzy and jace communicate through sign language more than speech these days, because they all learned together and it doesn’t cut anyone out of the conversation
  • maryse and robert are terrible at it but alec doesn’t see much of them anymore anyway, since they disapprove so highly of his gay agenda lifestyle
  • anyway magnus and alec take the same college elective together - maybe mythology???
  • it’s a small class, and there’s a lot of group discussions and things, but alec mostly hides up the back and does his best to lip read - he gets extra notes from the lecturer after to double check he didn’t miss anything
  • all magnus sees is this super handsome guy who just… hides quietly at the back all the time
  • he tries to talk to alec this one time but alec flees the scene as fast as possible
  • magnus, not to be put off, starts systematically asking everyone he knows about the cute, mysterious guy, until raphael finally sighs exasperatedly and declares he’s deaf, you idiot
  • and at that point magnus kind of realises it’s probably not rudeness but just a lack of an easy way to communicate
  • and so he does a little homework into forms of sign language (why are there different types?!?!?!!) and learns a quick ‘hello, how are you?’ as an experiment
  • and when he goes to class and shows alec, it’s a bit sloppy and the expressions aren’t quite right, but the way magnus moves his hands is magical and alec just flushes and replies quickly in sign language
  • which of course, magnus gets nothing of, but he apologises and then basically spends every spare night looking up new phrases in sign language
  • and every day he comes in to show them to alec who smiles just a little wider because of it
  • eventually they go for coffee and alec starts to talk to him verbally, instead of the note passing and use of messenger they’ve been going on
  • but as magnus picks up more and more sign language he drops the words and uses his hands instead
  • eventually alec asks magnus why he’s bothering to go to the effort
  • and magnus just smiles and signs that it’s because he wants alec to date him and how else would he be able to communicate his deep love and affection if it’s not in a language that alec can actually fully understand
  • alec falls in love pretty much on the spot, as if he wasn’t already
  • jace and izzy are all ready with the shovel talk until they walk in and find magnus and alec chattering away in sign language like it’s nothing
  • they pretty much sign their approval right then and there, and izzy starts quietly planning an engagement party
  • her and jace have a bet going on about how soon they’ll get married - izzy wins, because izzy wins everything
  • jace gets to be best man though, so he’s not too sore
  • they say their vows in sign language, because that’s the language they started this relationship with, so magnus insists on sealing it with it too
  • and then they’re unbearably cute forever the end

send me an au and i’ll expand on it!

The Sight of the Stars

(Okay! So this is my super, abysmally late Star Trek Network Gift Exchange gift for @orsonkraennic. I’m sorry this is so late! Life and school and I started one, but then didn’t like it so switched and…yeah. I tried to incorporate two of your prompts, and I hope I’m able to make you smile! Thank you for being so understanding. Anyways, Enjoy!)


“I love you.”

The first-time Jim had said those words to Leonard, he hadn’t paid much attention. “You have a concussion,” he’d informed Jim, and slipped his pen-light back into his coat pocket before going to prepare a hypo to reduce some of the swelling. “Save your confessions for the next person who gives you an orgasm.”

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hanthenerfherder  asked:

...or, you know, some of us think Cap is and was right about the whole thing because we're also opposed to the real-world implementation of similar fascist legislation such as The Patriot Act and it has nothing to do with liking him more?

That quote basically says, yes oversight is the right ethical and logical choice, but Cap is a good person, and that puts us in a quandary and I am saying that that is bad math.

It’s also a similar bad math that comes up in A LOT of 616 CW discussions, where Captain America himself (and the anti-reg side) essentially takes the position to non-metas that they should accept that metas occupy a position above the law/beyond equal prosecution by the law, because, you know, they’re different, and their circumstances are different, but you trust CAPTAIN AMERICA, riiiiight? Let the metas judge their own and police their own, what do you need the Constitutional right of equality under the law for? Obviously, this base position is immediately complicated by the clusterfuck of everything else in CW, but I’d argue that that’s deliberate. It’s one of the reasons I’m not a fan of the event, because I really like Cap, and I hate the things it makes him argue and I find them antithetical to him as a character.

I also don’t exactly get why so many people find a difference of opinion on a comics event, or, apparently, an actor’s opinion on an upcoming film none of us have seen as a personal challenge? I mean?? Yes I hate fascism? And the Patriot Act? And I think Cap’s political position is largely wrong in CW though I understand why, as the plot is manipulated, he fights? These things are not incompatible?

I get what you’re saying, but I’m responding to the quote as written and many, *many* other posts and comics CW itself, which initially sets up the problem as a constitutional legal problem of supers as American citizens whose identities allow them to avoid legal repercussions and prosecution and that’s constitutionally unacceptable under the law. Once that actually gets stated, there’s a problem.  

I’m not talking about the Patriot Act here, which I abhor, because it wasn’t part of the quote or what I was responding to, and I think the CW treatment of post-9/11 politics was really terrible, tone-deaf, and inconsistent in its understanding of xenophobia** and power dynamics. 

behind the cut

 for long rambly stuff about comics CW that’s more for future reference to point anyone to should they ask.

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Imagine studying at the school’s library after school. It was mid-term hell month. It seemed like all the professors planned for your midterms to land so close together. You had a midterm for Psychology and your Gender Studies on the same day, an English take-home essay to finish the next day and a Biology lab the day after that. You were exhausted, but determined to at least past all your midterms. At this point, you just needed to pass… No need to try to overachieve. You were exhausted, but you pulled all the motivation to continue on. 

You just finished two subjects and was about to start on your essay when you noticed unfamiliar white blurb in front of you. You follow the white blurb and you see your boyfriend, Johnny’s head laying on top his arm on the table. 

 “Why don’t you stop here for today, hmm~” He says in a cute tone, raising his eyebrows.

“I still have my lab report and my essay to work on.” You replied, trying to ignore him.

He straightens up on his chair. You notice that he’s wearing a denim collar shirt inside his fluffy-looking white cardigan. It was hard to say no to him, most especially when he’s acting like this while wearing what he was wearing. Double shot to your poor, fragile heart. You look back on to your essay, hoping that he would just leave or stay quiet. 

It was quiet for a good 30 seconds (you actually counted) before he spoke again.

“Do you want something to drink? Caramel Macchiato?” He said.

You eyes looked up at him… He could see that his charms was working. You were suddenly craving a caramel macchiato.

“You like it?” He teased.

You hushed him. You went back to work. He quiet down until he got bored again.

“It’s so frustrating in here.” He whined, pushing himself off his chair to stand up. You giggled at his attempts. He smiled back and continued on.  

“The weather’s nice, you want to get a sun tan?” He joked, pointing towards the door.

You looked at him with a ‘what-the-heck-are-you-talking-about’ look and he shook his head. He went to sit down and with his head supported by his hand. 

 “Let’s go…” He said with a huge smile.

You let out a small giggle. You shook your head with a pinched face.

“Let’s go ~~~” He said again in a cute voice.

You squished his cheeks and huffed out an “okay.”  You heard him cheer really quietly to himself before he began to help you pack all your belongings and books into your bags. He took hold of your book bag as the two of you headed off to a nearby cafe. He sneakily intertwines his free hand with yours. You look up towards him with your face slightly red, he tightens his grip just a little bit and smirks. This boy, making you fall in love with him even more. 

Originally posted by nakamotens

Originally posted by ohbaibeeitsyou

anonymous asked:

Hi there, just a question on your last post you made. You said how dogs were being seriously neglected, saying this is abuse, and the dogs had serious injury. I'm just wondering that if any of this is in regards to raisingopal, how is any of that true in her case? An accidental pregnancy isn't ideal, of course, but if her dog and the pups are healthy and cared for, and the pups find good homes how is this abuse, neglect, or harm to the dog at all? Just looking for clarification is all.

Under the cut b/c long af

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