one subject day

Moon Signs:

Aries: Understanding the world through the palms of your hands. Touching everything that is tangible. Internal temper-tantrums that make your blood run hot. Struggling to contain your emotions; being outraged one minute, and playful the next. A secret adrenaline junkie. Being addicted to doing things the hard way. Becoming passionate about new ideas too easily. Becoming passionate about new people too easily. Falling in love quickly and roughly. Looking through eyes that watch the world burn, manic and breathless. You are the infinitely relight-able fuse at the end of a firework, or a bomb.

Taurus: A slave to familiarity. Possessing a dragon hoard consisting of antiques, or the things in which you treasure most. Speaking before you think. The lavish romantic; lover of good times and calm surroundings. The pursuit of pleasure. Slow to forget, slower to forgive. Unfamiliar with compromise. The Aphrodite of love, and the Dionysus of luxury. A social butterfly, yet undoubtedly loyal. A distaste for messy emotional outbursts; being naturally self-contained. Guided by the firm, steady hand of desire. You are the lady and the lord, peaceable and regal and charming in all things. 

Gemini: Feeling with your mind, being frustrated with emotions you can’t logically understand. The uncontrollable urge to interact with others, needing intellectual stimulation in order to function. Studying a billion different subjects in one day. A lover of literature, or just simply the words of people. Distancing yourself from emotion, never really knowing how you ‘feel’ about an issue. Always the Devil’s advocate. Constantly trying new things; needing change to keep both of your personalities happy. You are the mental immigrant, comfortable only when you’re foreign.

Cancer: Omnipotent in regards to emotions. Fearing change, and hating superficiality. The unexpected jokester. Moods that change faster than the weather. The emotional hoarder; fears throwing away anything at all. Falling into their own pain like a well and drowning themselves in it. Adopting all types of people into your ‘family’. Their own worst enemy. Offense taken towards indifference. The passive-aggressive problem avoider who leaves a trail of crumbs for their partner. You are the sea witch, who has the depth of the entire world contained inside of her, threatening to spill out.

Leo: Praying to the stars to make you one of them. Wanting to burst from a lack of affection, or attention. Hands that flail dramatically while telling a story. Needing confirmation that somebody really does love you, and feeling terribly vulnerable because of it. Wanting to shout your love, and hatred, from the hilltops- like an actor in a bad movie. Smiles that make people believe in heaven. Being painfully defensive when someone hurts your pride. Acting kingly or queenly when a situation gets uncomfortable. You are the physical embodiment of the sun, come down from the sky to bring light to Earth.

Virgo: Secretly enjoying the little things that you’re appreciated for. The woman who hides behind the fan to avoid unwanted attention. Routines biggest cheerleader. The best counselor you will ever encounter. The fine eye that takes a sledgehammer to their own self-esteem. The original skeptic. Raised eyebrows at those who put their faith blindly. A face of apathy, and a mind of curiosity. Surrounding yourself with invisible barriers, hoping that somebody finds a way through them. You are the analyst, struck the hardest by your own discerning eye.

Libra: Inevitably becoming the mediator in all conversations. Deep-seated desires to mold your life into the perfect balance of both Yin and Yang. Debating an issue for so long that everybody around you groans. A refined, attractive aura that makes you seem doubly gracious. The war for peace. Falling in love so, so young. Always feeling fickle. Having to have the last word. Finding your own strength through other people. Feeling so intensely vulnerable because of your uncertainties. You are the gentle judge, who will not cede when staring into the eyes of unfairness.

Scorpio: Not accepting any gray areas in life, living in a world of black and white. Emotions so intense that your teeth chatter, even while your face remains stoic. Living a secret life as a private investigator. Feeling raw when you fall in love, because of how deeply it cuts you. Being horribly satisfied with your obsessions. Internally burning down everything you once knew in order to be reborn. A phoenix in your own right. Looking into the mirror in order to confront your own demons, seeing dirty words stamped onto your forehead. You are a white flag on fire, spitting in the face of surrender.

Sagittarius: Mr. Brightside and the lover of open space to roam. Feeling gagged by routine, like a dentist has her hands down your throat. Throwing yourself off of the cliff towards possibility; getting taken advantage of. That deep-seated desire to leave an impression on people, like goose pimples after a gust of cold air. Being a little too honest. Experiencing highs and lows that make you seem like you’re more than one person. Naturally enthused. Always searching for something. You are the mistress of experience, bold and wild and feeding off of the knowledge of the unexpected.

Capricorn: Seeming to be cool and steady, even when you feel like screaming. Possessing a deep, undeniable need for security- in all areas of life. Dreaming of building kingdoms with your bare hands. Being embarrassed, but pleased when somebody compliments you. Being too hard on yourself, and experiencing black moods because of it. Hiding your sensitivity behind biting, but nonetheless amusing sarcasm. Wanting to feel worthwhile in the world. Having a deep desire, and drive, to make something of yourself. You are the Titan Cronus, learning the lesson of the finiteness of mortality. 

Aquarius: Growing up and just feeling ‘different’. Loving all things messy, except emotions. Rejecting negative emotions because you hate feeling jealous, or fearful. Compassion through philosophy.  The starry-eyed professor, mad scientist, or general genius. Becoming so immersed into your own goals that you forget your reasons for said goals. Attracting all types in the eccentric crowds. Lovingly charming; struggling early on to find the medium between humor and offense. You are the electric shock of innovation upon society, bold and sharp and drastic as hell.

Pisces: The unrivaled mental space cadet. Intuition resembling psychic affinity. Caring for others so deeply, that their emotions make you feel like you’re underwater. Seeing pieces of yourself inside of everybody else. Being so excited for the future, you lose the present. Empathizing with everyone. Having secret worlds to retreat to, when reality is too awful. The natural performer. Being slightly jealous of mermaids/men. Loving everybody just a little bit. Having your heart broken more than once a day. You are the holy ghost, filled with divine love for all, and longing even more so.

a viral video starts circulating of supergirl dabbing immediately after saving the day. ppl start editing it with really loud rap songs with the bass way up in the background. alex emails kara from her official deo account one day. the subject line is just “WE TALKED ABOUT THIS” and the body is just a link to the video

anonymous asked:

Hiiii !! How can I create my own study plan ?? ^_^

Ok this is really hard to put into words because i feel like there’s no “correct” method, but I’ll try!

How To Make A Study Schedule

First, get yourself a monthly/weekly/whatever time frame you need calendar (you can find my favourites in my #printables tag, or you can just make a table in word/pages or your bullet journal). Write down when your deadline/exam is. Your job is now to fill in the remaining time. Here’s an example of one of my own study plans from my first semester at university (obv not all of it, but enough to give you a general idea): 

The difficult part: 

  • You’ll need to write down tasks for each day, but what these are or how long they take is completely up to your judgement. Important is, however, that you don’t just write down “study history” - instead, write specific chapter names, a certain number of problem sets, a certain number of vocabulary you want to study. That way, you can hold yourself accountable - you either got it done or you didn’t, whereas “study history” could be interpreted as 5 minutes as well as 5 hours. 
  • You also need to keep in mind that you’ll have to get everything done in time, so if you don’t start studying early enough, the daily tasks will become bigger and bigger - two days before the exam they’re probably unmanageable.
  • Also, remember that you’ll have more time on weekends or that one night you might already have prior engagements that keep you from studying. That’s okay, but plan around it.
  • Allow some days for rest/fun/emergency last minute studying. I always leave two days before the exam free (the ones labelled “revision” above) so I can flexibly decide what I want to look at again.

The even more difficult part: What if you have several exams you have to prepare for at once? 

  • the same system applies, but you have two possibilities: 
    • 1. work a little bit on every subject every day. pros: you have some variation in your day and that might motivate you more. cons: you might mix things up or don’t have the energy to start on a completely different thing after a study session.
    • 2. assign complete days to one subject. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays for English, Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays for Maths (just an example). pros: you can focus on one thing at a time and are less likely to mix things up. cons: it might get boring to work on one subject all day, especially if you don’t particularly like that subject. 
    • sometimes they’ll have to mix because you have certain deadlines and not enough time. 
  • Especially in similar subjects that are likely to cause mix-ups, reserve (if possible) one or two days before the respective exam to study/revise just that one subject. 

I hope this helped! Let me know if it works :) 

anonymous asked:

I noticed that all the Yamas have a little symbol on their shirts and jackets... what is that?? Did they do that???

It’s the 山 (yama) kanji! It’s part of all of their names so it’s just the yama club symbol now and lmao yes I’d like to think that Shibayama stuck them onto everyone but who knows!!

Anonymous said: I actually went on haikyuu’s character wiki and there are 10 yamas in total, but I think at least 3 of them didn’t even get lines. 

Yes, there sure is! I would like to include them all, but drawing so many characters every time would end up tiring me out ;; Thank you for letting me know though! 

Anonymous said: I happened to be reading your tags on the last yamayamayamayamayama post and I saw one…. um 6, who is 6th Yama I must have missed something……… 

It’s Higashiyama from Johzenji! I haven’t put him in yet, but I think he’ll be the last (?) one I include! Oh! And for anyone who has asked about Sarukui too, but I’d just like to reiterate that he’s not a 山 (yama), he’s a 大和 (yamato), but he can be an honorary yama!! Σ(ノ°▽°)ノMaybe he’ll make an appearance soon!

Anonymous said: yamayamayamayamayama is really confusing i dont know when to stop writing yama

The more yamas the merrier! If it helps, I sometimes shorten them to yama5 (or however many there are) or yama club so it’s easier to manage! 


Originally posted by jugheadjones94

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Word Count: 1661

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, the usual…

Anon Requested

A/N: I’ve been listening to a lot of Twenty Pilots lately… Don’t know why that was important but… Anyway, I hope y'all like this one! I will really try to post a lot more. Love you guys!


To be blunt, having a twin sucked ass. Well, with your experience it did. At least you were the older one, which had to count for something. Ok so there was a two minute difference between the two of you, but you used the leverage when you could. 

 Reggie was always a little asshole, even when the both of you were kids. He always stole your toys out of your hands claiming they were his. And he was the perfect golden boy in your parents eyes. His arrogance only sky rocketed with their parental encouragements. 

He was always very popular in school. Had the coolest friends, was part of all the sports teams, and when he came of age, dated the prettiest girls. You on the other hand were always different. 

You preferred reading and staying indoors rather than playing with everyone else. Of course your parents still forced you to try out for sports, (you soon enough became partial towards softball.) 

 Your stupid brother and his rather loud reputation never meant well for you. Everyone knew he had twin, but never bothered to really get to know you, always assuming you were like your brother. 

Nonetheless, writing was your specialty. You always had a way with words. You knew from an early age you wanted to major in some sort of English profession, whether it be teaching it or writing it. In fact, that’s how you ended up meeting your current boyfriend Jughead Jones. 

At first he was skeptical of you, but once the both of you clicked, it was one of the best things to happen to both of you. Thinking back on the whole start of it all always brought a smile to your face. 

“Ok girls, I’ll see you guys next practice.” You had hollered over to your teammates before swinging your backpack over your shoulder as they all shouted their own farewells. You left the school grounds and decided to go to Pop’s. One, because their food was amazing and two, you were hoping you could get some work done in the usually peaceful setting. 

 You made the effort to walk over there even though your sore limbs protested greatly. Once you got in to the beloved Diner, you went up to the counter and ordered your usual before going to find a seat. 

 As you walked through the small building, your eyes locked with stormy blue ones for a few short seconds. And in that short amount of time you were intrigued. He watched you with a weary stance, as if he were mapping out your every move before you executed it. 

You’d seen him before. Jughead Jones, he was in your English class. But you never talked, just silently drifted off into the lesson given that day. With a split second thought you decided to approach him as you waited for your food. 

“Hi.” You said hesitantly, immediately beating yourself up on the inside for making a fool out of your self for coming over. Hi? Really, that’s all you could come up with? You reprimanded as you stayed silent and watched him. 

 Of course all that had happened in a moments thought and he actually replied quickly. “Hi.” He said with an unsure look. You looked around and noticed he had a laptop out that he was typing in, taking up your interest you decided to try and make conversation out of it. “What are you doing?” You asked as you nodded over at his device. 

He looked to see what you were referring with a quickly glance and replied with a short worded answer. “Writing.” You grinned, you had a passion for the subject. Deciding to trust your gut, you sit yourself in front of him and smile brightly. “What are you writing about?” You asked. He still looked unsure of you, although, these types of looks weren’t unusual when you met new people. Mostly because Reggie and his erratic behavior met them first. 

 "Why do you want to know?“ He asked with an eyebrow raised. “Oh, I love writing. I hope to have a career to do with the subject one day.” You answered as you messed with your fingers over the table. 

 "Hm.“ He said in thought. “What?” You asked. He shrugged. “I don’t know, I guess I just figured that the twin sister of the oh so famous Reggie Mantle would be more.. well, Reggie-like.” “Well, I play softball if that’s what you mean. But otherwise I’ve always been the more soft spoken one I guess. My brother is just a real pain in my ass all the time.” You huffed as you crossed your arms. 

 "Interesting.“ He looked at you for a few seconds, considering whether he could trust you. He smiled when he saw the genuine curiosity in your eyes. "Well if you must know, I’m writing a novel.” “That’s awesome! About what?” You asked. “Riverdale.” “Well that was descriptive.” You retorted as he cracked a grin. 

 Your food finally came out at that time, your fries looked exceptionally delicious. “Wanna share?” To which he grinned. 

 That encounter alone sparked on many more encounters after that. After meeting up 5 more times after that first one, he asked you out. You obviously hid it from your brother, neither of you could even imagine the torment that would come. 

 The both of you had been together for a little over 6 months now. A whole summer had passed and the two of you were still going strong. When sophomore year started, softball started again too. 

 He always went to your games and was the cute supportive boyfriend. Whenever you made a home run he was always right there for you. And it wasn’t like your brother ever went to your games so you never had to worry. 

When you had started dating Jughead, his three other friends adopted you in their group and they were all for your secret relationship, never bringing it up when Reggie was around. Archie came close a couple times to spilling the beans but Betty and Veronica usually kept him in check. 

 It was a particularly sunny day when another softball game had taken place. It was the final game of the season, which meant your parents were obligated to come too. However, this meant they were forcing Reggie to be “supportive” of his sister. Of course Jughead had come to watch. 

You were the best pitcher on the team so that was the position assigned on the field for you. Before you ran out with your teammates, you gave Jughead a quick kiss, promising to see him afterwards. You didn’t realize your brother had come to your game until your eyes had met when you made it to the pitchers mound. 

He smirked but applauded with everyone else, cheering you on. The first batter on the other team made it to the plate and hit the bat against the ground a couple of times before getting into position. You smirked and readied your arm before pitching. 

 The game lasted a couple of hours, your team winning by a home run (that you had made). Your entire team was hollering as was the crowd. Your parents told you they were proud of you and that’s when you noticed Reggie was missing. 

 "Hey, where Reg?“ You asked your parents. Your mom wasn’t paying attention to you as she typed away on her phone. "He went to talk to someone I think.” Your dad said before leading his wife away to the car. 

 You shrugged before going to find your boyfriend. When you found him, you realized he wasn’t alone, Reggie was with him. “Oh god.” You muttered under your breath as you approached them. 

“Oh, hey sis. Good job on your game.” He said before continuing his malicious staring at Jughead. “Reggie, what are you doing?” You asked. He turned to you again. “Just finding my answers from this little freak here.” He turned back to Jughead who only looked at him with a pissed stare. 

 "So, are you gonna answer my question? It was you who killed Blossom huh?“ "I didn’t.” Jug spat. “What’s it to you anyway Reggie? Just leave him alone.” You said as your eyes met Jughead’s a couple times. “Because my coach has been non-stop breathing down my neck thinking it was me! I figured I can try to catch the person who did it so he’d leave me alone. And I bet it was him.” Reggie stayed as he looked at Jughead.

 "Reggie stop. Leave Jughead alone, he didn’t do anything.“ You said as you tried to shove Reggie away from him. "Oh, so you’re friends and with the little freak. Wouldn’t put it past you, you’ve always been weird. You know, I wonder if it was you that killed him.” He said. Your jaw dropped. 

“What the hell Reggie. Are you really accusing me of murder!? Murder Reggie, that’s insane. And besides, you know I was at an early softball practice on July 4th. And Jughead and I met up right after to hang out so why don’t you take your stupid accusations somewhere else.” You snapped at your brother. 

 "Why are you protecting him? This little geek is just a stupid nobody that nobody likes.“ He growled. "I like him! Reggie, he’s sweet, and funny, and caring… and all the things you aren’t!” He stopped and stared at you analyzing your words carefully. 

 "Wait… are you two… oh no way.“ His eyes widened as he looked back and forth between the two of you. "Back off Reggie.” You spat as he his shoulders slumped and he walked off giving you one last glare before disappearing around the corner. 

 You grinned as you looked over to Jughead who was in shock. “Well, so much for not telling him.” He commented with a sly smirk before wrapping you in his arms and congratulating you on your win.


Jughead Tag List@casismyguardianangel​ @lazyimaginewriter​ @carmineofmidgard​ @captainsuperfangirl​ @tegan-eva​ @mikymouse1999​ @hannsipannsi

Forevers Tag List: 

@noisyinfluencerstrawberry​ @bananakid42​ @itstenafterfour​ @riverdaleaesthetic​ @deanackles67​ @multi-madison

Gaston and Lefou have a complex relationship- stuck somewhere between lover and friend, perhaps doomed to perpetually dance the line.

Since the battle with Beast, Gaston has given up on Belle. He isn’t as upset about it as Lefou expected him to be. Lefou expected fits, alternating between angry and melancholy. He expected needing to console Gaston, comfort him, take him for too many drinks and help him walk home while Gaston rambled about losing the only beautiful he’d ever seen. Lefou expected all of this- and none of it came.

Gaston shrugged off the rejected like a grain of sand on his jacket, and that was that. He and Lefou slipped back into something more than familiar. More than because it combined the old times with something novel because Gaston likes to stand closer and brush their hands together and lean in when talking- looks as if he’s paying more attention to Lefou when he talks, and Lefou talks more often now.

It is as if the battle had dulled Gaston’s edges. It changed him somehow. From the time Gaston left Lefou for dead and the time Lefou found him in the remains of the castle, something drastic had changed. And Lefou doesn’t know what it is.

He finds himself liking it, the newfound attention Gaston directs towards him. He likes feeling important enough that Gaston listens to what he says now. Somehow, and Lefou would give anything to know this, somehow the battle had influenced Gaston to respect Lefou more.

Lefou approaches the subject one day. They are sitting in the tavern. Gaston is on his third beer and Lefou is halfway through his first, having been contemplating asking Gaston this question for much of the day. Nerves wound up in his chest.

He starts, “Gaston,” and then he stops. Now that he has started, the words leave him. His breath is shallower.

“What is it?” Gaston takes another swig from his mug.

Then he does it. He leans closer, brushing his shoulder against Lefou’s.

“Why do you do that?”

Lefou’s heart was in his throat. He didn’t want it to stop. He didn’t want Gaston to go back to the dismissive person he used to be. But he couldn’t go on forever tortured with misinformation because all signs point to something highly improbable- He had to know.

“Do what?”

And he does it more- his voice is lower. He’s closer. Lefou is almost delusional enough to believe Gaston cares for him. Almost.

It comes out in a burst: “That! You’re..!” He stops again.

Gaston sits back, confusion written plainly on his face. “Spit it out, Lefou.”

Lefou takes a few breaths. He says, “You’re acting as if you care for me. With the closeness, the attention.”

Lefou swallows thickly. Several moments pass, and Gaston still hasn’t said anything. His eyes are watchful. He looks like he wants to talk, but he doesn’t, and it makes Lefou go crazy. Gaston was never the type of person to think first and talk later. He was entirely action.

After a solid eight seconds, Gaston says, “Are you accusing me of not caring for you?”

The question strikes Lefou like a slap. It wasn’t what he intended, but he realized it was what he believed: Gaston doesn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t care for Lefou.

As Lefou takes too long to respond, Gaston continues, “If you would prefer I stop, I will. But don’t make the mistake of believing I don’t care for you.”

Confusion wraps Lefou like a blanket. He furiously does not understand.

“But you don’t! Not like- Not like the way you’re acting as if you do, and if you’re toying with me just to-”

Lefou stops.

Another eight seconds pass. They inch by slowly. Methodically.

“Belle gave me advice,” Gaston admits. “After the fight- It shook me. It make me realize how much I did not know. How righteous I had been, and wrongfully so.”

Gaston stops for a moment, and Lefou is too shocked to say anything. Gaston averts his eyes, gripping the handle of his mug tightly.

“I… Told her things. She gave me advice. She told me I should wait ten seconds before responding to something-” He stumbles over his words so uncharacteristically. He lets out a big breath as if giving up on the vague confession.

He sets out to be direct: “I told her I care for you. And that I hurt you.” A short lapse of quietness. “She recommended I try to show you I’m sorry rather than saying it because actions speak louder than words.”

Gaston’s eyes flicker over Lefou’s face tentatively, gauging his reaction. “You don’t understand how much I value your company, Lefou.”

People bustle about around them. They jostle and laugh and shout and play. They throw things, jest and joke. But to Lefou, the world was white noise.

It is everything Lefou ever wanted to hear, but it’s so unreal. It feels like it isn’t happening, and Lefou is going to wake up in bed. But Gaston is in front of him, face tense and jaw set in anxiety. Lefou had been in love with Gaston for ages, but resigned to his fate of unrequited love. It feels unreal.

Gaston breaths in through his nose, puts his cup down loudly, and stands up.

“I’m sorry. My advances are unwelcome.”

“No!” Lefou blurts. Gaston blinks, startled. “No. I’m sorry, I just. I’m having trouble… Comprehending.”

Lefou’s heart races. His thoughts run wild. He stands.

“I- I care for you, too.” He and Gaston are standing so close, in the middle of the tavern, albeit earning little attention from the drunkards around them. “I like your closeness and your attention.”

Gaston watches him, dumbfounded, as Lefou wraps his arms around him, one around his waist and the other higher on his back. Lefou’s face presses against Gaston’s chest. He feels Gaston’s chin drop on top of his head gently.

And they stay like that, in each other’s arms in the center of the tavern, a gentle break from the rest of the scene. They still have more to talk about, things to work out, things to understand and amend. But that’s for later. For now, Lefou is perfectly content.

A Bedtime Story

hello, loves! i’ve had this idea in my head for a little while now, and i’ve finally been able to put the words to the page! i’m really happy with how this turned out, so i hope you enjoy! please let me know what you think!

huge thank you to the lovely @takemeawaytocamelot for being the best motivator and cheerleader ever, as well as my other tss ladies who are always the most supportive bunch. 🤗


-the eldest bairn, kait xxx

“Did you really think that I would swallow this… fairytale? Do you think I’m still five years old?”

It’s not a fairytale, Bree.

The door shut behind her with a sharp bang! that echoed throughout the house, reverberating off of the walls and causing the vanity to shake. Unperturbed with the state of the mirror or the trinkets that surrounded it, she stomped over to the bed and unceremoniously plopped down on it, grasping the hairbrush and angrily running it through her hair.

All of her life, she thought that she was someone else–countless times she had helped her father, spending hours upon hours looking through their genealogy chart in an attempt to trace their ancestry throughout Europe. He had played along, telling her about his grandparents and great-grandparents, all the way to the eldest ancestor that they knew of: a Captain of Dragoons, stationed in Scotland with a pristine record and high regards from the Crown for his service. Frank had always talked so highly of him, but whenever his name was mentioned, her mother would leave the room.

She realized that her mother never truly told her much about her own heritage, just about Uncle Lamb and her parents, but besides that…

I suppose she wanted to keep that under wraps, too, she thought, brushing the other side of her head.

A moment passed before she fully paused, looking down at the curling waves of her auburn hair. Her father didn’t have red hair–granted, neither did her mother. She remembered asking him once where her red hair came from, and he had just replied, “One of your relatives.”

One of my relatives. My father…?

She set the brush down on the bed, running her fingers through the soft strands. As much as she didn’t know right now, one thing was certain: Frank Randall was not her biological father, this Jamie Fraser–whoever he might be–is. However, that was the only straw she could grasp from the bunch that her mother gave her; she had lost Brianna as soon as she said Culloden.

How could one believe such a tale? Her father apparently did–the other one.

Jamie Fraser.

So many emotions were coursing through her veins, but the one of highest supply was frustration and anger. She felt betrayed by her mother, of whom she felt had lied to her all of her life, making her believe that Frank Randall was her biological father. And after a moment, anger seemed to triumph over all other emotions, and she flung herself off of the bed, pulling a bag off of the floor and stuffing as much into it as humanly possible. She needed to get out of there. Now.

After realizing that not everything was going to fit if she kept shoving everything into the small opening of the rucksack, she instead started emptying the contents onto the floor. She shook the bag harshly, taking her anger out on the innocent fabric pack, before she heard something plop unceremoniously onto the floor. At first, she didn’t recognize it, but after a moment’s pause, her racing pulse leveled.

It was a small, leather-bound notebook, no more than 5 inches in width, 6 in height. The book was about 100 pages thick, covered in both her mother’s and her own scrawled hand across the pages, alternating between different colors of ink.

A fairy-tale told to her by her mother in her youth.

A five-year-old Brianna Randall sits upright in bed, excitedly gripping the edges of her quilt as she waits for her mother to return home. At this point, they had their schedule down to a science: Claire would walk in the door, go straight to the eagerly-awaiting Brianna, and she would recount to her daughter the adventures told the night before.

Tonight, however, was different. Daddy had come home from the University with a beautiful leather-bound, handheld notebook. “Fill it with whatever your heart desires, little beauty,” he had said, and she took it to heart. She would fill it up, cover to cover, with her favorite story of all time.

Her heart began to race in excitement as she heard her mother’s voice coming from downstairs, the beats getting more frantic as she heard the footsteps getting closer and closer. When the door finally opened and the bright blue scrubs came into view, she jumped up and down in her bed.

“Mama, guess what I got from Daddy today!” She squealed, thrusting the notebook at her mother in excitement.

“Oh, Bree, how lovely!” She examined the book delicately before handing it back to her daughter. “What will you write in it?”

Bree giggled, “Silly Mama, our story!”

Instead of replying right away, she swallowed hard, turning herself away from her daughter and towards the window. Confused, Brianna ignored this strange behavior and went to her desk, pulling out a pen and holding it out to her mother. “Write, Mama?”

She cleared her throat once before turning back around, a smile forming on her lips. “Of course, love. Now, where did we leave off?”

“No, we have to start over!”

Smiling, Claire took the pen from her daughter’s tiny hand and balanced the book on her knee, starting to write. While she wrote, she had Bree read the words out loud to her.

Once upon a time, in a far away land, there lived a King and his fair Queen. The pair loved each other very much, and to prove that their love was eternal, the King took his wife away from the business of castle life to a remote village in the mountains. 

While there, they visited their subjects and attended to their duties, as Kings and Queens do, but one day, the Queen was separated from her King and fell through a portal to another world. Frightened and alone, the Queen ran for miles and miles to find her King, but couldn’t find her way back. Getting lost in the ever-thickening wood as she ran, she encountered the most fearsome dragon in all of the Worlds. Fortunately, however, she was rescued by a knight in shining silver armor and taken away to safety.

On the way to the castle, the Queen’s escort introduced himself as Sir James the Red, Knight of Lallybroch. The Queen introduced herself only as Christine, in fear that someone would recognize her.

For many months the Queen took refuge in the new castle, Leoch, becoming a guest of it’s King and making many friends among the subjects. One day, after a great Gathering was held, the Grand Duke requested she be present on a hunt, to which she agreed. While on the hunt, she became very close to Sir James, who promised to protect her from anything and everything she could encounter on the journey.

And as Sir James predicted, Christine came face-to-face with the monstrous dragon once more. With his fiery breath, he burned her repeatedly. But ever so true to his word, her Knight came to save her and, in order to protect her, offered his hand to her, which she accepted. The two of them became extremely close while continuing the hunt. She missed her King dearly, but was starting to accept her life with her red Knight in shining armor. 

Eventually, the Knight found out about her travels through time, and offered to take her back home. They traveled on horseback for days while the Queen figured out what her heart truly wanted. Her duty was to her King, but how could she leave her Knight, a man that she had grown to love more than life itself?

It all came down to a single choice. Sir James took her to the portal, where she had to make her final decision. Who did she want to be: Christine the Queen, or Christine, the Knight’s wife?

In the end, she chose Sir James. The pair went back to his home, to begin their happily ever after. That is, until the creature returned, this time to take him for retribution, and it was up to Lady Christine to be her Knight’s savior.

With the help of Sir James’ fellow knights, and a few cows, Lady Christine was able to save her knight in shining–

“Mama,” Bree, now an inquisitive eight-year-old, interrupted, looking at her mother in confusion. “What did the cows do?”

Claire laughed, caught off-guard by her question. “Well, Sir Marcus decided that it would be the easiest way to get Sir James out of the dragon’s keep, without drawing too much attention.”

Bree’s eyebrows creased together and her lips pursed outward. “But… wouldn’t a large group of cows draw attention to them, anyway?”

“Do you want me to continue or not?”

She nodded eagerly, leaning away from the headboard. 

Lady Christine was able to save her knight in shining armor, and together they traveled away to a distant land full of delectable foods, beautiful dresses, large parties, and lots of intrigue. But Sir James’ experiences with the monster left him scarred, emotionally and physically. She tried her best to help him, but nothing she did soothed his suffering. Eventually, their marriage began to crumble, and she feared she would lose her husband.

One night, she talked to him about it. He told her all of his heart, as one should in a marriage, and the patches seemed to be healed. However, when the evil creature returned for his just desserts, Sir James vowed that he would be the one to slay it. Afraid for her husband’s life, as well as the dragon’s, she begged him to leave it be. His grudge, however, would haunt him forever as he attempted to slay the beast, eventually doing so with all three of them seriously injured. Lady Claire saved Sir James once more, and, after losing their faith, the pair moved back to their country to be with their family. Fate, however, would not be on their side.

A war was rapidly approaching, and as much as they tried to stop it from coming, Sir James and Lady Christine were faced with no other choice. Pregnant with his child, he sent them back to her own time, where they could be safe in the protection of the King. 

“She never goes back to him?” Thirteen-year-old Bree inquires of her mother with her elbows on her knees and her hands resting beneath her chin.

Claire pauses, swallowing an invisible lump in her throat. “No, she doesn’t.”

“Why not? If she truly loves him, wouldn’t she want to be with him forever?”

“Of course she would.” She smiled softly, wrapping her arms around Bree’s shoulders. Leaning her head on top of her daughter’s, she asked, “Do you remember the battle, the one that they were all preparing for at the end of the story?”

Bree nodded, urging her to continue.

“Well, before they parted, Sir James promised m–Christine–” She cleared her throat. “He told Lady Christine that he would die on the battlefield, defending his country. And she took his word for it.”

“So, she didn’t even try to find him? Not even for the chance that they could be together again?”

Tears formed in Claire’s eyes, but Bree couldn’t see them. Instead of replying, she finished the story.

Lady Christine returned to her time and resumed her position as Queen. She was reunited with her King, and he promised that they would raise Sir James’ child together, as their own.

A few months later, a princess was born, and they named her Ellen, after Sir James’ mother. And together, the three of them lived a happy life, the child unaware of her true parentage.

Every once in awhile, however, the Queen would see her daughter’s red hair catch the light, and she would see her husband. Her red Knight. 

Her one and only love.

The End

Sprace- Soulmate AU (Markings)

Race slammed his lunch tray on the cafeteria table. “When I meet my soulmate I’m kicking their ass.”

A small laugh bounced around the table. Race’s soulmate was notorious for getting into fights, which usually resulted in Race covered in marks. None of the bruises or occasional cuts actually hurt, but he was still pissed each time he woke up with new ones.

“So the glasses,” Mush began with a chuckle, “Do you really have a-”

“Of course I fucking do.” Race sat down and took off his sunglasses to reveal a sickly yellow-green color coating almost the entirety of his left eye.

Keep reading

Imagine bestfriend!Woozi calling you to make sure you wake up in time for class.

Danger in Fiction

(My twist on how the Author became the Host…)

The Author was a talented man. He was given the gift of manipulation, mind-bending. With a few words, he could twist a person to obey his will, but it had to be the right person, the perfect subject.

For years, he’d written countless novels with the aid of Daniel, his favorite subject, but one day, Daniel got cocky. He became rebellious, fighting back against the will of the Author, and I suppose that I’m to blame for that. I may have put the idea in his head.

I knew that it would lead the Host straight to my door, begging for my aid. The Author always greatly vexed me. He couldn’t even be bothered to button up his shirt correctly, let alone put his magnificent abilities to good use, but when he got down on his knees and begged me to make him stronger… I obliged.

It just goes to show how good-natured I am.

He let me in, and I gave him my aid in teleporting Ryan into my void, my world of black and white. We modeled it after a popular video game at the time, but my services did not come without a price. “Whatever you wish,” he promised me, “I will give it to you.”

Ryan was… difficult. He didn’t want to obey, and the Author, despite my urgings, would not use more… persuasive tactics to subdue him. It was then that Daniel shot him.

I swear I have no idea how Daniel found the Author’s cabin.

Left for dead deep in the woods, the Author lost all hope. I came to my friend in his time of greatest need. His blood-stained hands grasped at my suit, leaving stains that I’d later have to deal with. The man had no respect for fashion.

“I’ve come for my payment,” I told him.

“But I have no money to offer you,” he cried. “And I’m dying. Save me, please.”

I suppose I took pity on him, so I offered him aid in exchange for something very meaningless. Well, two somethings…

“M-my eyes?” The Author looked up at me. He had no idea the power he wielded, how much stronger he could be, and that’s what made him a threat to all that I wanted to gain. Removing a writer’s eyes would effectively cut them off from the world; it would cripple the Author.

It would make him weak, easier to control when I had the need.

“O-ok, b-but please, just save me!”

The process was simple but painful. I certainly didn’t relish his agonized screams, but afterwards, I let the good Doctor dress his wounds with the promise that as long as he stuck by me, the Author would not fade.

He no longer spoke.

Days turned into weeks and weeks into months before the Author finally spoke again. Wilford Warfstache had recently joined us when he ran into the Author one day in the midst of changing his bandages. The pink buffoon had yet to see my good work, but he would soon know it better than almost anyone else.

“Author! I didn’t know you were here!” Wilford noticed the way his friend was hunched over, a bloodied bandage clutched in his hands. “Author?”

“Wilford Warfstache was not wanted. It would be best if he went away quickly,” the man hissed.

Wilford, never one to listen, stepped closer and saw for the first time what only the Doctor had seen before him. The Author’s beautiful brown eyes were no more.

“Wilford Warfstache did not listen to the blind man’s protests, and now it was too late. He’d seen his friend and knew now why the others spoke of him only in hushed tones.” The man shook with every word. “This was no longer the Author that stood before him, but a monster, devoid of sight and weak. The Author was dead. Only the Host remains, now.”

Host has since become something like my plaything. His will has been forever crushed, so I needn’t bother using my aura on him anymore. Host keeps the others in line’ his comforting voice keeps them under my control when they so much as think of straying from me.

And that, Miss Nelson, is the story of how the Author became the sniveling coward you know today as the Host. He’s broken, and he needs me. Until you came along and ruined everything. I hope you won’t hold what he’s done today against him. After all…

I am quite the manipulator.

YouTuber AU where Enjolras is semi-famous on the internet for his angry rants about various subjects. 

One day he makes a video about a guy who has recently joined his nonprofit, who’s “frivolous and annoying”. 

Over the course of the next few months his channel turns into a subtle hate campaign against his “antagonist” - Enjolras’ own words - and their bullshit cynicism. His videos, which he used to film without a script in one take and uploaded raw, have parts very obviously edited out now. He updates biweekly after each meeting to tell his audience about the ridiculous counterarguments this cynic with grey eyes, but they’re always bloodshot, like he’s been drinking again, and his hair is always tousled, and he had red paint across his jaw the other day - because that information is relevant to his case apparently - came at him with, and proceeds to take them apart one by one. 

It sort of becomes a meme. His small fanbase starts shipping them, without even knowing who this “antagonist” is. There’s fanfic and fanart and shitposting. Enjolras/Mysterious!Cynic.

Months later, one night at 3 A.M., a new video is uploaded on Enjolras’ channel. It’s titled “heard he was talkin shit” and it’s just a five second clip of a shirtless man with grey eyes and wild hair, grinning at the camera and pointing at the Enjolras-shaped lump on the bed right next to him.

Tumblr goes bonkers.

[SLBP Modern HC] Lords teaching you how to drive (Pt.1)

You can read Pt.2 here!

A/N: thanks to @shioune!! i brought this to life. blame her, lmao.

Oda Nobunaga

  • Before: He rarely, if ever, drives since he has Mitsuhide to do that for him. Still, he’s a pretty decent driver. That doesn’t stop you from asking him to teach you. He doesn’t even flinch, as he makes his way over to his car. Wait, what? Now? “Hurry. I don’t have all day.
  • During: A terrible instructor, if not one of the worst, due to his impatience and short temper. The whole situation is a nightmare and you’re surprised you haven’t gotten into an accident yet. No sooner than you’ve started, he makes you stop at a deserted diner and all but drags you from the driver’s seat.
  • After: “Foolish girl, leave the driving to capable hands.” It’s his way of saying that you’re permanently banned from being behind the wheel.

Akechi Mitsuhide

  • Before: He’s a busy man but when you ask him if he’d teach you how to drive sometime, he accepts wholeheartedly. And so the weekend came and your first session was about to start. You’re a bundle of nerves but he’s great at reassuring you.
  • During: An absolute sweetheart. Loves to give you tips and pointers throughout the drive. Every time you do something correctly, he praises you and gives you words of encouragement. Just when you seem to be getting the hang of things, you see something in your peripheral vision. Thinking that it was headed your way, you panic, veer to the right, and collide into a stop sign. Oops.
  • After: He unbuckles both of your seat belts and pulls you into his arms. His first priority was to make sure you were alright, as you tremble in his arms, the adrenaline rush causing your heart to pound. The car is the least of his worries but when he finally does inspect it, he concludes that it isn’t that big of a dent. “My darling, if you have places to be, please leave it to me to take you there.

Sanada Yukimura

  • Before: “You…? What!?! M-me? T-teach you!?!” Why was he so flustered? You nod. If not him, who else? Saizo? Not likely. Yukimura eventually accepts and vows to make sure you’re 110% prepared for your driving exam. Hold up, we’re not there yet! Failure, to him, was not an option.
  • During: “Hey, you’re doing a great job!” He’s surprisingly a good instructor despite his bashfulness. You were currently at an intersection about to make a left turn on a green light, except a car across from you had the same idea. The other vehicle was going too fast for comfort and cut in front of you, sending you into a panic. You responded by turning a little more than necessary and hit the curb, causing your front left tire to make a loud popping noise.
  • After: Upon Yukimura’s examination of the car, he noted that the hubcap needed replacement. “W-well… Aside from that one… thing, you were doing great! Just a little more practice and I’m sure you’ll be good to go.” You knew he was being a little too nice about it but it only just fueled your desire to improve.

Kirigakure Saizo

  • Before: You bring up the subject one day, right after he parks in front of your apartment. “Hmm… So the little lady wants to learn how to drive.” He’s surprisingly willing to teach you, despite your initial doubts. He gives you a manual to read prior to your lesson. Then, a detailed lecture on how to navigate the vehicle. You think to yourself how glad you are to found the courage to ask him… That is, until the actual drive began.
  • During: He doesn’t talk much really, just examines you carefully with his bloody eyes. He’s observant, can feel how tense your body is, how tense its been since you’ve entered the roads. Before you swerve to avoid an incoming vehicle, his hand shoots forward to steady the wheel and you gasp in surprise. “What did I tell you about panicking, little lady?
  • After: Since the near incident, he’s reverted back to his usual mask of indifference and you’re not quite sure what to say. You finally pull up at an empty parking lot when his languid voice breaks the silence. “Let’s try that again, shall we?” Cue intimidating smile. He’s not gonna stop until you learn how to drive… Properly.

Date Masamune

  • Before: One day, you express your interest in learning how to drive and he offers to teach you, albeit reluctantly, as he hates the thought of you getting injured. Your enthusiasm makes him smile though.
  • During: “…” Seems to be calm as all hell but is inwardly shook. Just complete utter silence as you make a sharp turn. His right hand reaches out to tightly grasp the roof handle, in a futile attempt to hang onto dear life. All of this goes unnoticed to you though since you’re so focused on making sure that you’re both… safe. Is it working? Barely.
  • After: You call out his name. No response. You try again until he finally looks at you, his hand reaching out to grasp yours. Masamune’s loving warmth seeped into your fingers. “…If you want to continue, we will have to practice more.”

Katakura Kojuro

  • Before: His car may as well have been a garbage dump. Junk of all sorts littered across the passenger seat and spilled over the floor, reaching into the back seats. He begins to shove everything onto the floor in order to make room for you to sit. “Forgive me, I haven’t had time to clean this up yet.” Riiight.
  • During: Hands down, the best instructor by far. Doesn’t coddle you but isn’t extremely harsh. Points out all your mistakes in a tactful manner so you don’t feel as discouraged. His calm demeanor rubs off on you and boosts your confidence. Near accidents happen during the first few sessions but you’re both dedicated to seeing this through.
  • After: You’ve gone from being the worst driver in existence to being, dare you say it, a decent one. He smiles proudly. “My precious girl, you’ve come a long way.
Justina Machado and 'One Day at a Time' look to reshape the Latino narrative on TV

Actress Justina Machado stars in Norman Lear’s reboot of “One Day at a Time.” The revamped version is set in Echo Park and centers on three generations of a Cuban American family. 

Justina Machado didn’t realize she yearned for a show with people that looked like her — mostly because it just wasn’t the norm.

“That’s why ‘The Cosby Show,’ for me was so important because I had never seen a family like that on television that wasn’t Caucasian, and I was like, wow,” Machado recalled during a recent visit to The Times’ video studio. And it’s why she was watching Jimmy Smits on “L.A. Law” in her youth, despite the adult subject matter.

VIDEO: ‘One Day at a Time’s’ Justina Machado was ready to represent »

“I did yearn for it, but I didn’t know,” she said, referring to the lack of shows with Latino characters. “I had no idea [it was possible].”

It was and it is. And she’s helping contribute.

Machado stars in Netflix’s reboot of Norman Lear’s classic sitcom, “One Day at a Time.” The revamped version is set in Echo Park and centers on three generations of a Cuban American family.

The 44-year-old actress, who until now was best known for her role on “Six Feet Under,” stars as Penelope, a war veteran and recently single mother of two children whose mother (played by Rita Moreno) lives with her.

What was your initial reaction to Netflix doing an all-Latino version of the series? Were you nervous, hopeful?
I think I felt confident. I didn’t know [co-showrunners Gloria Calderon-Kellett and Mike Royce] … but I was confident, because it was Norman Lear, that it was going to have a lot of heart and it was going to have a lot of laughs and it was going to be something that I wanted to be involved in. And then when I got the script, then I knew we were on the right track because this was a story that was universal and we weren’t the butt of every joke. Our ethnicity wasn’t what drives the show.

Did you watch the original?
I watched reruns of it when I was growing up, but by the time I started watching it, you know, the girls were already older and so I didn’t really get what everybody loved about it. But what I did do was, when I had my first audition, was see the show. I went home and watched it, and that gave me a lot of permission. I was like, “Oh, this is like a play.” And Bonnie Franklin took her time, everybody took their time, and it was real. That gave me a lot of confidence to go in the next day for the audition.

After 20-plus years in the business, this is your first lead role.
It’s funny because I did get a lead role in the late '90s and it was a show called “I Love Lupe,” and I remember that we shot the pilot, it was a fantastic pilot, and one of the things that was said to me, when it didn’t get picked up, was that they didn’t think America was ready for a Latino family.

Now, I was so young back then, it was kind of a shocking thing to hear, but I just had to keep hustling, you know? And it’s amazing that it’s taken this long to have another lead. I almost thought it wasn’t going to happen. I have to be real honest. I always knew I was going to work, I always knew I’d be a working actress. I never thought — I started to believe that [a lead] wouldn’t happen … So this is unbelievable.

How does it feel to play a version of the all-American mom?
I think it’s about time. I mean, maybe it’s incredible to everybody else, but to us, it’s about time. It’s like, yes, this is a universal story, it’s being told through Latino eyes, and we’re trying to change — you know, as other shows are — the Latino narrative that’s being put out there. So I think it’s fantastic.

What was your reaction upon hearing that Rita Moreno was going to be playing your mother?
Well, she doesn’t remember, but she worked with me twice before. [laughs] But no, I mean, [it’s] great. I knew that it was going to be awesome. You never know what it’s going to be like until you sit down and you do that first reading. I mean, she is Rita Moreno, she’s a legend.

What has been some of the feedback you’ve gotten about the show?
Just so many Latinas and Latinos thanking me for representation, really just saying exactly what we said, like, we were excited, but we don’t know because sometimes we’re like, oh, come on, really? Really, there’s another piñata? You know what I mean? We’re eating tacos, great. We eat other things, people. So all of those things. So it was just — I loved that they feel — especially single moms, veterans, young kids, so there’s so much — our show has so much representation on so many levels that it’s all been positive. (x)

Mark your calendars from July 7th to August 7th for 32 Days of Sanji!

The last time that we saw Sanji outside of a title page he was getting ready to fire on Big Mom’s ship.  It’s been over a year since then and we’re all getting pretty antsy.

All types of art will be accepted: fanart, fanfiction, graphics, edits, fan mixes, and whatever you’d like to create.  Please make sure you’re not stealing anyone else’s work because that’s not cool at all.  Give credit where credit is due.

Tag your posts with #32daysofsanji so we can see your works.

Rules and prompts:

This event is structured a bit differently than usual ones because we all realized how difficult it is to participate in every single day of a weeklong event.  So we’ve created this schedule to make it easier.

7/7 to 7/14 - Smoke/Sink

7/15 - 7/22 - Mythology/Secrets

7/23 to 7/30 - Treasure/Passion

7/31 to 8/7 - Past/Future

In each of those time periods we’ll be working on pieces that reflect the two prompts.  You’re welcome to just use one prompt or even combine prompts.  Once that cycle ends, the next prompt set starts and this goes on until this is all done.

A special thanks to yuushishio for creating that awesome artwork and helping to bring together such a great team.  More thanks go out to caelumxiv, kumiko-sama-chan, aevvium, maarchen, acidiceffect​, undanewneon,  kikokus, and ikrzosan for making all of this all a possibility.

Imagine Wontaek

- okay okay okay
- s o
-imagine that Leo has recently been involved in a dating scandal
- like super serious
- like there are photos where its clearly him and a girl of similar height going on dates
- especially the one where they’re in a restaurant and the picture is of Leo and that signature s m i r k
- you know the one
- jellyfish hasn’t confirmed anything
- neither has the “girl’s” company
- clearly “she’s” an idol bc have you seen those legs
- mmmm boi
- back on subject
- one day
- someone gets a picture of a slight side profile where its the perfect angle to see the side of “her” eyes under the sunglasses
- ofc “she” has a face mask on
- but fans see the side of the eyes and they k n o w
- should have been expected at some point
- jellyfish finally put out that statement
- turns out that its ravi in a wig
- wontaek is real
- fans die on the inside
- mostly at the fact that ravi wore a wig and got away with it for so long
- (although people were suspicious of a possible woman bodybuilder they probs knew all along lmao)

anonymous asked:

I'm not all that plugged in to the fandom besides your blog, so it's always interesting to hear about the "fanon" versions of the characters. Like I've NEVER thought of kirishima as being hurt by Bakugou. To me he even seems to get a kick out of the way baku is? So like if he ever (for some reason because like you said I can't see it being intentional????) attempted to/did something to hurt kiri I would expect kirishima to genuinely laugh it off and be like "yeah whatever blasty" yknow?

Well, depends on how close to home Bakugou would hit with the attempt to hurt I guess? The only instance of Bakugou being “rude” to Kirishima in the manga that I can remember (do correct me if I’m wrong here) is him calling Kirishima “shitty hair”, and Kirishima set him straight on that immediately -  “my hair isn’t all that different from yours and I happen to have a name, use it”, so for sure that’s at least one canon way in which he reacts to Bakugou’s general level of every day rudeness

Laughing it off is also something he’s done in canon, though it was more Kirishima making fun of him and Bakugou telling him that he’d kill him and Kirishima ignoring him and keeping on laughing - so if it’s just riling each other up and normal bantering and poking at each other, laughter is a canon reaction too

But like, Kirishima’s got his insecurites and problems, right? And there are things he probably wouldn’t be okay with Bakugou saying - like, for example, not that Bakugou would, like this is the most ooc thing I’ve ever had Bakugou do in an hypotetical scenario ever (sorry son), but say he makes fun of Kirishima’s quirk/calls him weak, Kirishima would actually be hurt by that, you know? Even though he’d instantly know that Bakugou doesn’t actually believe what he’s saying, I don’t think he’d just laugh that one off. Cause those are actual things Kirishima thinks about himself, and at the moment what keeps those thoughts at bay are Bakugou’s reassurances about his strenght, so having Bakugou himself telling him that he’s weak would be a low blow for him… in that situation I think he’d tell him to go cool off somewhere he can be a dick by himself and maybe come back when he’s ready to have a civil conversation about what’s actually making him act up

Anyway Kirishima being quietly hurt and pretending everything’s fine is just something I can’t see happening considering how loud he is about his opinion whenever someone does anything that goes against his moral code, really

anonymous asked:

Zarya opening up to the reader plz

Thanks for this request! I’m not as comfortable with writing Zarya as I am with writing some of the other characters so I’ve made this as some head canons instead, hope this is okay! Enjoy :)

You could tell something was up straight away

  • Her responses becoming less enthusiastic with you and others
  • Refusing some of 76′s orders with paperwork and such with lame excuses
  • Avoiding people wherever possible and when she did, keeping conversations short and sweet

You only mention something however when she stops going to the gym

  • This has never happened before and you get worried
  • You broach the subject carefully one day
  • “I’ve noticed you aren’t going to the gym that much, Zarya?”
  • She gets defensive, as you knew she would
  • “So? I have been busy. Why do you care?”

She’s even more distant for a few days then

  • You try a few conversations but she doesn’t bite
  • The only words spoken are necessary ones
  • She’s not rude just rather cold

When you finally sit her down to talk, she finds she’s tired of holding it in

  • At first she just answers your questions succinctly and with little added information
  • Soon, though, as she gains confidence from your kindness, she opens up more and more
  • You stroking a hand through her hair the whole time, calming her
  • Afterwards you don’t offer words of sappiness and instead talk over the possible solutions to her problems as you know thats what she prefers.
  • She gives you the first hug she’s given anyone in weeks
  • It’s bone crushing (even if she hasn’t been to the gym)

She goes to the gym the next day

  • You go with her
  • Supposedly for moral support
  • (Really its just because you love watching her when she’s at her happiest but you aren’t telling her that anytime soon)