pointless but i want to know

5

aaaa i finally was brought up to a chance to take these pics!

//it took a loot of time for me to finish a now post it here, so thank you for your patience! and support!( they know whom i thank hopefully x3 )


i really enjoyed drawing this! such a delightful piece, hehehee~


link to some more in full-size: x

also progress??: y


PJ - @7goodangel

Monochrome - @skoopskoop

Omni - @cereusblue

anonymous asked:

Fuboo I don't know what to do anymore. Everything is so fucking pointless. I've lost my job, family, my boyfriend was cheating on me and my best friend died few days ago. I really want to do something about it and I think you know what I mean. Should I do it?

It’s pointless because you no longer see any reason to get out of bed in the morning.
It’s tough, even when there’s nothing but bad things happening, and you just can’t see them getting any better, or that you’re completely alone in this and there’s no one to help you through it.

It’s scary, and giving up seems like a less exhausting option.
It’s this time at your lowest to start taking some time away, or reach out to someone.
I know it’s tough, but despite you thinking that there’s no one out there to help you, you will be surprised how many folks want to help get you through this, maybe even make new friends along the way.

Trust me, it won’t stay like this forever, nothing stays for a life time, we just need the patience, courage, and even the help we need to get up out of bed and take on another day.
If things continue to drag on for a while (months), seek professional help and try other options.
There’s always more than one way to battle depression, as a knight always uses more than a sword to battle a dragon.

maybe i’m asking for too much but if “it devours” also manages to tell us how carlos fell in love with cecil from his own point of view i will literally leave this plane of existence and subsequently reach nirvana

I feel so detached from myself, I’m so exhausted. I feel like I’m repeating the same day over and over, the same routine, same feelings, same meaningless drama. I’m so sick of it, I just want to feel alive and be happy but I’m constantly drained and everything feels so pointless. I just feel dead.

anonymous asked:

"When girls and women are taught self defence (and I mean literally taught. Most women have had at least one class in school on it) we are taught that hitting is the absolute LAST resort. Realistically? If a man has actually punched us? 90%+ of women are fucked already. There is no defence against someone stronger than you hitting you." So can a woman who gets punched can actually defend herself or not?

Women aren’t made of porcelain.

We’re not some separate species, or utterly different physically from men. The concept of “woman” is a societal one. It changes based on socialization, and changes based on the society’s belief on what a woman is. It’s a nebulous concept, with no solid value when hitching one’s identity to it and the same is true for men. Societal constructs like masculinity and femininity are linked heavily to societal expectations and how we’re raised. When someone says, “a woman can’t” when a “man can” most of the time they’re referring to societal expectations taken as fact. These beliefs often have nothing to do with reality, and you only have to look at the vast differences in the United States when it comes to stereotyping women of different ethnicity, various cultures, or income levels just to see how shallow those ideas are.

There are female soldiers, female police officers, female martial artists of every stripe, and the warriors are countless going back generations. You can, in fact, find them if you look. This is before we get to athletes and all the other non-combat positions women occupy today that society said, “impossible!” just a few decades ago.

This is why understanding the effects of socialization is so important. When it comes to learning, what you believe will decide what you are.

Here’s the truth: no one takes a punch well when they’re mentally unprepared for it.

Here’s the other: most people (men included) aren’t trained to take hits.

Notice that you’re instructor told you, “Don’t piss off men. You’re helpless if they decide to physically assault you.”

They did not teach you what it looks like when a punch is incoming, or what the change over looks like. Good self-defense teaches you to be aware of your surroundings and learn to determine when danger is potentially incoming. You can’t respond when you don’t know its coming, and you can’t prepare for it, physically or mentally, when taken by surprise. The first moments of a real fight are crucial. Those seconds it takes to recognize danger and react to it when you’re already in the middle of being hit is too late. You’ve lost the initiative, you’re playing catch up, and that’s a terrible position to be in when you’re trained. It’s pretty much almost always unrecoverable if you’re not.

It has nothing to do with being a man, and its disingenuous from a self-defense perspective to focus entirely on them. While far more likely, men are not the only ones who can or will hit you. Women aren’t any safer, and can be just as predatory.

The problem with these self-defense classes is if you’re really serious about learning to defend yourself then you need to train for it. Good professionals worth their salt will always tell you that you need to be training in some martial art, and practicing the techniques you learned in your self-defense course constantly so that they become embedded in your muscle memory.

When I was forced into one these high school self-defense courses, my seventeen year old martial artist self thought they were stupid and overall pretty pointless, and they didn’t come at us with any of the above bullshit about getting punched. Girls who’ve done an hour of self-defense five years ago aren’t going to be able to perform jiujutsu throws, they’ll be lucky if they remember the bear hug escapes or how to roll the wrist against the thumb and tug if someone tries to take you were you don’t want to go (and then not know what to do once they’ve gotten free because they never practice running). Forget punching, they won’t remember how to do that.

If you aren’t practicing to the point where it becomes second nature, with the added benefit of learning self-defense techniques that are exceedingly easy to memorize (believe it or not, not all self-defense programs will teach these), and doesn’t come with the caveat that if you’re serious you need more education then they’re pretty worthless.

All your class seems to have taught you is how to be a willing victim, and that’s the worst kind of self defense.

“If someone attacks you, you can do nothing so just give up.”

That’s tantamount to admitting that they didn’t really teach you anything, and don’t want you to think they did. You’re not even in exactly the same place you were before you took that class. Mentally, you’re worse off.

If you don’t believe you can, then you won’t and it’s simple as that.

It should come as no surprise to anyone that when it comes to self-defense, you get what you pay for.

Taught is not not taught, the vast majority of high schools don’t have classes. They have one hour a year (maybe) devoted to it (usually P.E.), and sometimes its not even required. If you’re lucky, it’s a seminar of a few days. If you’re really lucky, they’ll bring in one of the female (or male) police officers from a local precinct who specializes in the police’s self-defense training they give the public. However, you are not guaranteed to have a professional, or even just a local officer. Often, it’s just the PE teacher who took a three month course. What girls get in high school depends heavily on what waivers the school is willing to sign and how much liability they’re willing to take on. It also depends on who is doing the hiring, who they are hiring, and whether they actually care.

Believe it or not, there are plenty of people out there who think women don’t need to learn self-defense and don’t want to waste the school’s already limited resources on hiring someone for a few hours. Especially when you can’t learn much self-defense in a few hours, and almost none of it is lasting.

If you’re from a country other than America, it might be different, but if you’re referring American education then its important to remember you’re experiences (whatever they were) aren’t universal. No, really. Education varies heavily from district to district, and can be vastly different within single cities depending on where you live, this is before we get to county versus county, and that’s before we get to the differences between the states. In America, public education heavily dependent on money and property values. The higher the house value, the richer the district, then the better the education. Its important to know, that when it comes to education, segregation is economic. America and Americans have no real true standard for education or education value. What you get depends on where you live, and often on parental involvement.

You can’t learn self-defense in an hour or two. You will be fucked up by shitty instructors, sexist instructors, and negligent instructors. If you are not doing your own research and taking control of learning to defend yourself then you are likely to get one of the above. If you look at self-defense as all being the same, that combat is an innate skill set possessed by only one side of the human species, if you honestly believe on some level you are inferior to men (and if you’re young, white, female, and WASP, you better believe you’ve been conditioned by society at large to see yourself that way) and that there’s no point in even trying, you will be fucked.

Combat is a learned skill.

It is not innate. You have to learn it. It is not inherently masculine. If you are a woman learning to fight, you’re not actually all that special or standout. There are plenty of women out there learning to fight. However, you’ve got to go looking for it. It won’t be handed to you.

One of the most empowering aspects in learning to fight is taking control of your own safety. You are no longer reliant on the charity or uncertainty of those around you, and that certainty will drive off most predators. Predators don’t want a real fight, they aren’t looking. 9/10, they want victims who are vulnerable and go down easy. So, whether you’re male or female, and you’re worried about your safety then head to your local police precinct, find a seminar, and that’ll point you toward freedom.

So, TLDR:

Women can take punches but not if they’re not prepared for it and whoever was teaching you is a shithead.

Don’t let their idiocy turn you into a willing victim.

This post is a public service announcement, not martial arts training.

Go get some.

-Michi

This blog is supported through Patreon. If you enjoy our content, please consider becoming a Patron. Every contribution helps keep us online, and writing. If you already are a Patron, thank you.

I’m hungover enough to out and say it without really giving a fuck: Eleanor’s not even pretty, she’s just a skinny girl with long hair.

Add to that she’s willingly involved herself in this shitshow for a second time, all of the horrible things she’s said about Harry during the first go round and about Louis after their ‘break up’ and the fact that Louis always looks fucking miserable and dead in the eyes around her, she can go CHOKE.

I’m actively vengeful enough to say that I hope all of her “social media influencer” agreements get cancelled, her pointless blog gets deleted and in order to support herself, she has to spend the rest of her life working as a change room attendant for the Primark on Oxford Street, having to be polite to hoardes of customers and hanging up other people’s discarded fast-fashion and 5 or 6 times a day having to deal with teenagers asking her if she’s that bitch who deliberately tried to use Louis Tomlinson’s closet to make money.

Fuck off plain Jane, no one wants you here.

Why there HAS to be a 4th episode or A quick reminder of everything that is fucky

I know that lately it has become difficult to keep believing in the existence of a fourth episode, one the fandom has decided to call the Lost Special. So this post has nothing but the goal to lay down the hard facts that prove not only the existence of that episode but also the necessity of it.

This is a collection of reasons why we believe in a Lost Special, all at the same place. No Arg, no speculations, no hard meta, just the irrefutable evidence we’ve gathered that shows how something is terribly wrong at the moment within the show itself. If someone starts doubting, this is supposed to remind them why we’re still in the expectative.

Tighten your belt, we’re going deep inside the show. It’s going to be long, and frankly not everything will make sense but that’s the point: nothing make sense otherwise.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hi! I want to ask advice.I'm learning fine art at a university, and try to do my best, but every day I feel like the fandom groups/facebook etc. slowly but surely kill my passion for 3 years. Ignorance, humiliation, disregard. I'm at my wit's end. I dont know what should I do, I want to keep drawing, but I feel like its pointless, and no matter how hard I try my artwork is useless. I feel like I'm making a mistake by believing, I can work as an artist, and I should search for something else.

This message kind of makes me very sad. 

There’s one thing I can advice. Quit the groups and fandom circles that make you burn out so much. There is no way every single fan in a fandom you love is ignorant, or humiliating, or disregarding. Find YOUR people who will support you and re-charge your passion. 

I feel like it’s in a way how I feel about tumblr recently. I see so many posts on my dashboard that either make me super bitter or annoyed…I kind of feel like a sea of salt after I spent too much on tumblr, but whenever I’m out of it I’m back to the ray of sunshine. I guess there are blogs and posts I feel no longer connected to. And it’s normal.

SO. Try finding someone you connect to. Having a one loyal friend in a fandom you can always talk to is much better than seeing the art (even if it’s great art) from a person you don’t understand. 

There is absolutely no way that your artwork is USELESS. I generally feel that the main point of art should be bringing YOU joy. If you draw there should be something you love about it. I guess it shouldn’t really rely on recognition only. 

Also, I might sound like Katara, but hey, faith pays off. If you truly believe in something it’s going to get you there eventually. 

anonymous asked:

Could we have any pidge and hunk headcannons? I love all of your hcs btw especially the meme ones lmao

  • do really pointless shit For Science all the time
    • pidge: “you know, if we wanted, we could probably commandeer the castle comms to play screamo music” hunk: “well i mean yeah but literally why would we ever want to do that”
    • pidge: “…” hunk: “…”
    • they do it
    • they Gotta
  • hunk is the good cop, pidge is the bad cop
  • refer to delicate scientific instruments as “the thingy,” ask for the other to get the thingy, somehow the right thingy is always retrieved
  • *pidge builds anything* hunk: “I Must Touch It”
  • hunk legitimately can’t handle how small pidge is
    • “i could crush pidge with a hug, lance. a hug. that’s. that’s so messed up” “hunk are u ok”
  • hunk: “where’s lance” pidge: “…i thought it was your turn to watch him”
  • pidge stands on hunk’s shoulders to reach tall things
  • “guys maybe we should head back. pidge’s been dissolving social constructs for the last two hours and i think i’m actually starting to agree, which is definitely a bad sign”
You scared me

(A/N): *sobbing cause Logan gives me so much life* 

 Request: Could you do a Wolverine request where the reader is his girlfriend and she is in danger and he is extremely pissed and after he rescues her is all fluffy and smutty ( if you do smut). 

Warnings: swearing, injury


Originally posted by bxckyrogers

   Logan nearly broke his desk when he Charles gave him the news. His heart plummeted to his stomach and he nearly whimpered as Charles told his recollection of the events that had happened only hours before. (Y/N) had even captured by the enemy, taken to their base (wherever the hell it was) and was no doubt dead. 

    “(Y/N)’s been captured, we’re sounding out a team to go rescue her and-” Logan stands up abruptly, knocking his chair straight to the ground.

    “I’m going with,” He states blatantly, giving Charles no room for argument and yet the old man argued anyways. 

    “Logan, we know how special (Y/N) is to you and that’s exactly why we don’t want you coming with us. We don’t want you coming and getting worked up or-” Logan cut Charles off once again, this time with a low and warning growl. 

    “I said i’m going with.” At this point Charles knew it was pointless to argue, Logan was dead set in his plan and nothing was going to persuade him. Charles sighs, officially giving up on arguing. 

    “Fine, we leave in an hour, be ready by then.” Charles knew he didn’t have to tell Logan to hurry up, the man would be ready to go in five minutes anyways. Logan nods curtly, his jaw clenched and eyes stormy. Charles could already tell that whoever had taken (Y/N) was in for one hell of a beating.


    The x-men had been fighting for what felt like hours, they were all growing weary and their fighting was growing sloppy. If they didn’t find (Y/N) soon who knew what would happen. Their hearts would probably all give out and they’d die mid-battle. 

   Minutes ticked by and the oncoming attackers didn’t slow, not even a bit. Logan could sense the despair and growing tiredness within the group and he knew they needed to act fast. They either needed to find (Y/N) and get out of here or these soldiers needed to stop pelting them from all sides. 

   Logan growls as he tears into another enemy, ripping his head from his neck but just as he had finished that one another man came up and began to attack. Even Logan himself was starting to grow weary when quite suddenly- 

   "I’VE GOT HER!“ The all too familiar voice of Scott Summers rings through the air. "START RUNNING YOU IDIOTS!” The team doesn’t have to hear another word before they’ve booked it, all making a mad dash for the jet. 

   Everyone stopped in the cockpit, all panting heavily from the exertion of the fight and now running a good few hundred yards. As they all catch their breath Scott comes rushing in, carrying a badly injured (Y/N). 

   Logan can feel his heart drop into his stomach when Scott lays (Y/N) down on the floor, her face was badly beaten and her body was coated In a series of scratches and wounds. Logan immediately drops to her side, his finger already reaching for her neck to feel a pulse point, he stops when (Y/N)’s shaking hand grasps his wrist with very little strength.

    “I’m alive you doofus,” she murmur softly, her voice no louder than a broken whisper. Logan sighs in relief, the sound coming out shakier than expected. 

   "God,“ Logan breathes out, running a hand down his face. "You fuckin’ scared me,” (Y/N) slowly smiles, her lips taking time to curl up in a lopsided grin. 

    “Thought you didn’t get scared," 

    "Well, when it comes to you I’m fuckin’ terrified (Y/N).” Logan completely ignored the looks all his teammates were giving him, instead focusing on pouring his soul into the words he spoke. “I can’t lose you (Y/N), not after everything else. You’re the only one I got and-” Logan trails his sentence off when (Y/N)’s warm and still shaking hand cups his cheek, her thumb lightly grazing along his cheek bone. 

    “I’m not gonna leave you Logan, okay? I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for awhile,” Logan chuckled softly, his nerves finally sated. He smiles fondly at (Y/N), his heart swelling with love for the woman below him. God, if he’d Lost them he wouldn’t know what to do. (Y/N) had been his life-line, the one to always get him through a hard time, the one he would always come home to. If this mission had gone differently and he’d lost (Y/N)- Logan can’t stomach the though and diverts his attention away from his heavy heart. 

   Logan sighs softly as he turns his head slightly, just enough to brush his lips along (Y/N)’s wrist. (Y/N) smiles lazily, her blood stained lips quirking upwards slightly and Logan has never felt more relief and love in his entire life. 

    “That’s fine by me,”

So Talk

Fanfic tiiiiiime

Bughead ficlet

Summary:

“I didn’t think you even liked girls,” Archie said finally, playing with his paper straw wrapper.

“I don’t.” Jughead answered, eyes meeting Archie across the lip of his mug.

“You don’t?” Archie asked, a tiny bit of hopefulness creeping into his voice.

“I just like Betty.“

Pop’s Diner. Ten pm. Jughead did not even look up from the screen when Archie slid into the booth across from him. His fingers continued to move across the keyboard steadily. The only break he took was to drain the dregs of his coffee cup and then continue working.

“So,” Archie said finally. “You and Betty.”

Jughead allowed his eyes to flicker across at the redhead before turning back to the screen.

“So that’s weird.” Archie finished, huffing a little in amusement.

Jughead stopped typing.

“Not like… bad weird. Wow, okay, so that sounded rude. That’s not what I meant it’s just- you know, you? And Betty? She’s, you know…. and you’re so… yeah.” Archie trailed off. Rubbed the back of his neck with a hand. Sighed.

Jughead began typing again.

After a moment, Archie got up. Jughead did not watch him go, but when Archie returned with a soda and a refill of coffee he accepted the cup with a nod of thanks.

“I didn’t think you even liked girls,” Archie said finally, playing with his paper straw wrapper.

“I don’t.” Jughead answered, eyes meeting Archie across the lip of his mug.

“You don’t?” Archie asked, a tiny bit of hopefulness creeping into his voice.

“I just like Betty.”

Jughead put the cup down and closed the lid of his laptop. The two boys, best friends, maybe rivals, looked at each other for a moment then. Archie broke first. Jughead knew he would.

“It was always me and you and me and her. So this feels…”

“Unacceptable?” Jughead asked dryly.

“Unexpected.” Archie corrected. “Should it be? Unexpected, I mean.”

“For you, sure.”

“But not for you two?”

“I can’t speak for her.”

“So speak for you.”

Pops came by then and dropped two plates- deluxe burgers, cheese fries. Jughead’s stiff posture softened slightly at the sight of the food- a peace offering. He picked up a fry. Archie let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“Your whole life, Archie, you’ve had this story. You and Betty, girl next door. Perfect. Sweet and thoughtful and gorgeous. You know everything about her- you know where she got that scar above her left elbow. You know what she looks like with chicken pox. You’ve seen her naked- though not since you were like six. Probably one day you’re gonna marry her.”

Archie jerked in his seat a little- hands holding the burger stilled even as the onion and tomato slipped from the bun and onto the plate. He seemed almost hypnotized.

“But today is not that day.” Jughead pauses to stir his coffee and Archie knows in the back of his mind that this is for dramatic effect but he can’t help being swept along.

Jughead’s a hell of a writer.

“You’re in high school. Who wants to live their whole life with the girl next door? You want adventure. You want to meet and woo and love enough women so that when you and Betty come together? You’re ready to make it stick. No one wants to break up with a girl like Betty.”

Archie started to speak but Jughead jabbed his fry in the air, cutting him off.

“Here’s the problem, Arch.” Jughead smiled a little, sardonically.

“I know she got that scar jumping into the lake on a dare and cutting her arm on a piece of metal because she did it so I wouldn’t have to. I was scared of the water and Reggie was being a dick. I remember how red and swollen and chipmunk faced she got in second grade- because I gave her the chicken pox. We could only hang out with each other for a week because everyone else was afraid of getting infected. Which is also when we shared an oatmeal bath.” Jughead raises an eyebrow and the joke is so foreign- girls, and baths, and Jughead- that it doesn’t even register that Archie should smile or react in some way.

“And you’d marry her.” Archie said. His voice was flatter than he’d intended.

“Probably.” Jughead conceded, picking up his burger now that his fries were gone.

“Have you always-?” Archie asked, pushing his half eaten food aside.

“Mm.” Jughead murmured thoughtfully around a mouthful. “More or less. But I figured- Archie and Betty. Endgame? No chance.”

Archie shook his head, but more out of confusion than denial.

“I kissed her,” Jughead said abruptly.

Archie gave a shaky laugh. “Okay, that was rude, but I seriously can’t picture you kissing anybody.”

Jughead grinned despite himself. “It’s all very 80’s teen comedy. Social outcast after the golden girl cheerleader.”

“Betty isn’t like that. She doesn’t think like that.” Archie said, no longer laughing.

“Then maybe- just me. Just she won’t want me. Maybe me knowing her enough to fall for her was enough for her to see what’s wrong with me and that she should just stay away. I’m not really a part of this-” Jughead gestured faintly around.

“Jughead-” Archie began.

“No, I know. I already know what you’re going to say. You said it with the burger.” Jughead smiled a bit and pushed away his empty plate.

“So what now?” Archie asked, pushing the rest of his plate towards his friend. Jughead picked up the other half.

“Whatever she wants,” he said, adding ketchup to the burger.

“You’d be, what, her boyfriend? Walk her to her locker? School dances?” Archie looked skeptical but Jughead gave him a look and even around the food it said for Betty? For Betty, participate in this pointless social posturing?

But he’d been sitting at their lunch table.

He’d been writing for the newspaper.

He’d been coming to class regularly, and on time.

He was changing.

Everything was.

“And what if she wants to be friends?” Archie asked. And this time his voice held concern- warm concern- for the someone who hadn’t had his heart broken. And his eyes when they looked over Jughead seemed to say I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t want you to feel how I made her feel.

“Whatever she wants,” Jughead said, but his voice dropped a little.

And they both understood without saying it.

Best friends do.

Notes:

Oh look another fandom to write for cause I wasn’t stuck on five ongoings or whatever,

Movie Night Fun (M)

Anon asked: hey i really loved the taehyung smut!! may i request another smut with taehyung, maybe in public with lots of sexual tension plz? taehyung might be a stranger !!


Pairing: Taehyung x Reader
Genre: SMUT, & Slight-comedy
Words: 2,521
Song(s) That Inspired Me: Partition | Outta Your Mind | Bend Ova
POV: 2nd Person

Summary: Having been ditched by your best friend, you found yourself sitting in a movie theater, patiently waiting for the movie to start. However, you end up with a seat buddy that would not leave you alone… funny thing is… you somehow ended up wanting him, but does he want you as well?


Originally posted by mayfifolle

You were currently sitting in the back row of the movie theater. You had originally planned to go with your close friend, but she somehow managed to schedule your monthly movie night on the same night as her and her boyfriend’s weekly date night. Yeah, you know who took more of a priority on her list, but you couldn’t blame her. They were on completely different schedules, so they need every chance to be together that they can get.

Now, browsing on your numerous social media apps, you failed to notice someone sitting next to you.

         “So, what are you looking at?” You heard the person ask.

You nearly jumped out of your seat after hearing the person’s abnormal deep voice. You clutched your phone to your chest as you tried to calm your rapidly beating heart. After taking a couple of more seconds, you finally answered the stranger.

         “Um, I was just scrolling through my Tumblr. It’s a good app to pass the time with until the movie starts.” You shyly explained to the stranger, silently berating yourself for even answering him in the first place. Your parents always taught you to never speak to strangers.

The stranger silently nodded his head as he went back on his own smart phone. You gave him an interested look before ignoring him.

         “Okay, strange…” You thought as you peeked at him out of the corner of your eye one last time before fully ignoring him again.

Thirty minutes later, the lights began to dim one by one, signaling that the previews were about to begin.

         “Oh shit…” You cursed mentally as you were completely absorbed with your blog that you forgot to use the restroom before the movie started. You quickly shot up from your seat and looked to both sides of your row to see which side had the least amount of people. You just had to see this movie on opening weekend. It’s even worse that it was during a night showing. Everyone was home from work or school. You quickly deemed the left side had the least amount of people. You started to swiftly shuffle your way out of your row, hoping that you didn’t awkwardly brush your ass against anyone’s hand. Sadly, you did, but you could care less. Your bladder needed to be empty.

Unknowingly to you, the stranger was watching your retreating body, repeating that moment when your ass lightly grazed his hands as they were resting near his knees. Thank God for convenient placement, however, he quickly pushed away any sexy thoughts of you since you two had just met and are practically strangers. Though— he wouldn’t mind living dangerously…

Now, rushing back to your seat, you had to repeat your earlier action. This time facing your back to the movie screen, you quickly shuffled your feet back to your seat. As you neared your seat, you somehow magically lost your footing and ended up falling on top of someone’s lap. Too embarrassed to look, you kept your eyes shut and tried to scramble off the person’s lap, however— he was keeping you in place.

         “You know… if you wanted to get all comfortable with me, you could have asked.” The person said.

Your eye instantly shot open as you registered the person’s voice. You quickly scrambled off him and sat in your seat. You glued your eyes to the movie screen, forcing yourself to ignore his piercing gaze. However, that was proved to be pointless. You suddenly felt his breath lightly hitting your ear. He was close to you. That was not good.

         “Um, the movie is up front. Last time I checked, my face can’t play movies.” You whispered cheekily, trying your hardest to fight off an amusing grin that was threatening to form.

You heard the person chuckle softly, “Funny. I actually wanted to introduce myself. I’m Taehyung—” But before he could continue, the person next to him shushed him. Even sending him a warning glare as an added good measure.

You let out a short snort as you went back to paying attention to the movie. Luckily for you, the movie just begun and didn’t miss much.

Trying to get into the movie experience proved futile. Why? Well, that’s because Taehyung would not stop brushing against your head. At first, you thought it was on accident, but after the few more times he did it, it has become known that he wasn’t, in fact, doing it by accident.

You casually leaned back in your seat and pretended to rest your elbow on the arm rest. You then slightly leaned to the side and let out a hush sound to get Taehyung’s attention.

         “Can you please stop touching my hand? You are distracting me from the movie.” You whispered harshly, slowly becoming annoyed with the person next to you. All you wanted to do tonight was enjoy this movie, but it seems that your hormones had a different plan for the night. With each soft touch sent a spark of electricity up your arm, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps.

Taehyung smirked in response as he had a hunch stirring inside the pit of his stomach. That hunch telling him that you were feeling the opposite to be completely honest.

He then leaned closer to you, practically pressing his lips to your ear. The hotness of his breath causing an opposite effect on your body. His breath maybe hot, but it was causing shivers down your spine. His warm breath fanning the tiny hairs on the side of your next. Having him that close to your neck caused you to instinctively tilt your head to the side, giving him full access to do whatever it is he pleases to do.

Wait—what were you saying? Okay, you were definitely not yourself. You quickly created some distance between yourselves and focused back on the movie and much to your dismay, the scene was a kissing scene and not just any kissing scene, it was a full fledge—skin-on-skin—tongues intertwining with one another— kissing scene.

         “Fuck my life…” You pathetically thought as you saw the couple practically fucking each other in front of your eyes. What kind of movie was this anyway? No matter how badly you wanted to look away and think of clean thoughts, you simply couldn’t. You closed the gap between your legs, squeezing your thighs together, hoping the throbbing will cease.

         “Stupid Taehyung. This is all his fault! If respected your personal boundaries then this would not have happened!” You thought to yourself, mentally cursing at Taehyung.

You found yourself glaring at him, practically drilling a hole in his head. Taehyung began to feel that as well. He turned his head to you and simply smirked.

         “Last time I checked, movies can’t be played on my face.” You heard Taehyung’s snippy remark. That sarcastic tone escaping his mouth made your eye twitch.

You pursed your lips, trying to contain the urge to snap back at him, but that proved futile. The more he smirked, the more you wanted to kiss him right then and there. Hold up—what just came out of your mind? You wanted to kiss him? Ha! Over your dead body…

Seeing you have a mental battle over your moral compass and your raging hormones, Taehyung decided it would be fun to add fuel to the fire. He slowly leaned closer to you. His lips hovering above the warmth of your cheek. He slowly brushed his lips against the softness of your skin. You closed your eyes and let out a sigh of content.

Hearing that sexy sigh escape your lips sent a wave of hormones through Taehyung’s body. People would think he’s crazy for wanting to have sex with you, and you two literally met that night, but who gives a fuck? A lot of people have sex with people they just met. Before he could come up with more reasons that would justify his want to have sex with you, he suddenly felt your hand roughly graze against his crotch. Your hand practically an inch from his hard on, but every time you would near it, you would lightly touch it with the tip of your finger and then pull away. Taehyung let out hard yet soft groan. He knew what you were doing. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees this sexy ass smirk painted on your pretty lips.

Finally fed up with your merciless teasing, Taehyung tilted his head towards you, his lips practically touching your ear and whispered,

         “Want to do something more interesting than this movie?”

You turned your head to meet his lust filled gaze and with the flirtatious smile still painted your lips, you whispered,

         “Girls’ bathroom. Count to 10 and meet me there.”

You shot up from your seat as if you needed to use the restroom and then hurried out of your row not wanting to disturb your fellow movie watchers.

Keep reading

things that keep me up at night: dear evan hansen edition

• what skeletons were in alana’s closet? i want to hug her.

• in “words fail” when evan says “would they like what they saw, or would they hate it, too?” is he referring to hating himself OR is he referring to his absentee father?

• does evan ever tell anyone what really happened in the forest that day?

• what would’ve happened if evan and zoe had met in the orchard that day instead of because of the letter?

• was my last question pointless because the orchard wouldn’t have existed without the connor project and that wouldn’t have existed without zoe and evan already knowing each other?

• if connor hadn’t have taken evan’s letter home and it never got mistaken as his suicide note and evan had never gotten involved with the murphy clan, would he still be alive? did they save his life? or did he save theirs?

• the connor murphy we know and love is merely a manifestation of evan’s mind. who was connor murphy really? (this one really messes with my head)

butteredonions  asked:

Micro fill? A la Routine Maintenance, Shiro's arm is troubling him again - but this time it's entirely the mice to the rescue.

Shiro scowls at his prosthetic, thoroughly fed up with it.

It’s been bothering him all morning, ever since his morning solo session against the Gladiator. He’d blocked a strike from the robot using his arm, and with some extremely bad luck, the robot’s staff had managed to catch him just beneath the connection point and right on one of the prosthethic’s panels.

At the time it hadn’t felt like much. He’d been wearing his armor, and while getting hit so close to the point where metal met flesh always stung, he’s gotten used to that brand of pain by now. He’d finished his training session, showered, and moved on with his day without thinking twice about it.

But he’d started to notice an odd rattling sound inside the prosthetic, and around the same time it had become less responsive. And as the hours pass, the sensation gets worse. He can’t flex his metal fingers very well at all, now, and the whole thing feels like it’s starting to get heavier. The remains of his right arm are starting to throb, and the whole experience is just downright uncomfortable.

He thinks something had probably been shaken loose, or gotten stuck on the inside of the prosthetic, around the point where the Gladiator had hit him. And normally this wouldn’t be too much of an issue, when safely on the ship, and not in the middle of a mission. The easiest solution would simply be to go to Hunk for maintenance, just like any time it needs serious work beyond routine cleaning and care that Shiro can’t handle himself.

Unfortunately for Shiro, Hunk is planet-side for the day, doing some major supplies shopping with Coran as he stocks their kitchen. And Pidge, the logical second choice for arm troubles, had also gone planet-side to get a few technological upgrades for her computer. Keith is still in the Castle, not particularly interested in the market crowds, but he’s no engineer. Shiro has no intention of making him help with this, even if Keith probably would in a heartbeat.

So Shiro does what he can to deal with it himself. Hunk’s shown him some of the more useful tools he can use for his prosthetic, and given him his own set to store in his room for emergencies. Using them and Hunk’s lessons, he manages to pry open the panel on the upper bicep of the prosthetic, and his probing fingers can definitely find a few loose wires, and something that feels like it’s jammed into a gear. That probably explains the lack of mobility, or maybe it interferes with the function that lets him move such a heavy piece of equipment easier. The weight of it is starting to get painful.

Unfortunately, although he’s identified the problem, fixing it is something else entirely. He struggles to plug the wires back in properly, or to remove the lose bit of metal jammed into the gear. But it’s an awkward angle, trying to reach into the back of his arm at all, much less trying to fix or replace things by feel alone. He curses, but he can’t quite manage it no matter how hard he tries.

A loud squeak at his foot makes him start, and he winces when he pinches one of his fingers in the metal panelling of the prosthetic. The blue mouse at his foot lets out an apologetic-sounding chittering noise.

“Uh. Hi,” Shiro says, raising an eyebrow. “Did you…did you need something?”

The blue mouse—Chulatt—squeaks and shakes its head ‘no.’ The yellow one, Platt, skitters up next to it and points at its mouth, then gestures to Shiro.

“I…eating?” It shakes its head. “Oh, wait, I didn’t eat.” He glances at the clock—it’s past lunch time. “Yeah, I’ve uh…I’ve been a little distracted.”

The red and green mice have managed to crawl up on his bed to sit next to him, and stare at the arm balanced carefully in his lap. The red one, Chuchule, points at the arm and then gestures at his shoulder, before demonstrating with few massaging motions on Plachu next to him.

“No, I don’t need that right now—well. Maybe later, but now it’d be sort of pointless.” Shiro shrugs one shoulder awkwardly. “I’ll just have to wait until Hunk and the others get back, I guess. This thing’s a pain to lug around when it’s not working.”

The mice exchange glances, and then as one swarm up his torso, darting across his lap or shoulders to the prosthetic.

“Wait, no!” Shiro hisses in alarm. Letting them help with massage therapy is one thing—he doesn’t want to explain to Allura why one of her precious mice has gotten fried or cut up or who only knows what else because it was trying to fix something only a trained engineer should be working on.

He tries to cover the gaping open hole in the prosthetic with his free hand, but the mice are nimble and quick. The blue one has already slipped inside, tail whipping through Shiro’s fingers, before he can stop him. Shiro curses. “Get out here right now!”

The mouse doesn’t listen. Which just figures, really.

Platt crawls up on his shoulder and pats his neck in what Shiro assumes is supposed to be a reassuring way, as Chuchule and Plachu shove his fingers aside and also crawl into the prosthetic’s interior. Shiro scowls, but there’s really nothing he can do to get them out at this point. If he sticks his fingers in there to try and drag any of them out, he’s afraid he could shove them into other components that could get them hurt or killed. He’s still not sure how he’s supposed to explain this to Allura, or anybody else, for that matter.

There’s a sudden loud buzzing noise and a snap, not unlike a little crackle of electricity, and the whole prosthetic seems to jerk for a moment. Then it settles, and to Shiro’s surprise, he finds he has a little more mobility in his fingers. A second buzz-snap and another sharp twitching motion, and his whole wrist flexes much better than before. He stares incredulously.

Chulatt and Platt both crawl out of the interior of the arm, and Plachu sticks its head out and waves its tiny paws to Platt. The largest mouse bounds down to the opening in the arm, and its back half sticks out of the paneling as it shoves its head and front paws inside. There are several loud squeaks, and Platt’s tail wiggles back and forth as it seem to tug at something. Then there’s a sudden grinding noise, and the mouse snaps backward, falling out of the prosthetic’s open panelling with a squeak. Shiro barely manages to catch it in his left hand, and blinks when he spots the metal shard in the mouse’s teeth. The arm, to his surprise, feels lighter again, and he realizes the mice had pulled something out of the gears to let it function again.

Plachu crawls out of the prosthetic’s interior and up Shiro’s shoulder as well, looking smugly satisfied. Shiro sets Platt down on his lap, and probes carefully inside the arm with his fingers. The loose wires that had been there earlier aren’t loose anymore, and must have been plugged back into their original ports. He’s careful not to venture too close to the whirring gears, but everything seems alright inside, as far as he can tell.

“Uh…good job,” Shiro says, impressed, as he glances at the mice arrayed around him. He carefully closes the panel, and flexes his arm experimentally again. Good as new. “Thanks.”

The mice squeak, clearly pleased with themselves. Platt has a more immediate interest, and gestures at its mouth again.

Shiro laughs. “Okay, okay! I’m guessing nobody’s fed you, if everyone but Keith is planet side. Fine, let’s go get a late lunch. But I’m warning you, it’s just going to be food goo. I can’t do anything fancy, okay?”

The mice don’t seem to mind. They crawl up onto his shoulders for a ride, and Shiro heads for the kitchen, flexing his fingers again now that he can once more. He’ll have Hunk look it over again later just to be safe, but in the meantime, this isn’t so bad at all.

Four Times They Almost Kissed and The One Time They Did- Lin X Reader

1.
You grabbed a glass of champagne, seeing that all of your friends were socializing with other people and you looked around, trying to spot a place to go outside since it was getting stuffy in the room. You saw a glass door which presumably led to a balcony and you made a beeline there and you opened the door and slipped outside.

The cold air hit you all at once and you set your glass down to the right of the door before you crossed your arms, trying to keep all of the warmth. You picked your glass back up, realizing that there was really no point in trying to keep warm.

You walked further away from the door that led inside and you made your way close to the edge.

You looked around, amazed at the view you had- you could almost see the ball in Times Square. Although it was cold outside, you reasoned with yourself that getting this view was worth freezing for. You felt someone nudge your arm and you turned around, seeing Lin. You smiled a bit.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” He asked you, no longer looking at you but at Times Square and all of the buildings. Your features softened when seeing the look of adoration he had when looking at the city.

“Yes, it’s beautiful.” You told him and he nodded. He turned to look at you again and he shrugged off his suit jacket and offered it to you.

“You look cold.” He said sheepishly and you took the jacket cautiously.

“Are you sure? What if you get cold?”

“I’ll go back inside.”

“Touché.” You slipped the jacket on, noticing immediately how it smelled like Lin.

Yeah, he was never getting this back.

You guys heard a cheer from the huge crowd at Times Square.
“I guess it’s the new year.” He said quietly and he turned towards you, beginning to close the distance. You moved forward as well.
“Hey Lin, we’re starting some karaoke, wanna join?” Someone from inside yelled and he pulled away before he could kiss you.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He smiled and he looked at you. “I’ll see you later?”

“I think I am going to go home. I am really tired.” You lied and he put his hands in his pockets.

“Do you need a ride?”

“I can just get a cab but thank you.”

“It’s no problem- text me when you get home, okay?” He asked. You smiled and nodded.

“Sure, and Lin?”

“Yeah?”

“Happy New Year.” You raised your glass of champagne.

“Happy New Year- to us.” He replied, returning the toast.

“Yeah. To us.”


2.
“Happy birthday Lin!” You yelled, your voice drowned out by all of the others who were giving him birthday wishes as well. His smile grew as he looked at everyone who was here and he started greeting everyone and talking. Everyone was already ordering rounds and Lin made his way over to you, practically bouncing from all of the energy and from how excited he was.

You felt yourself begin to smile as well, Lin’s smile being contagious.

“I’m glad that you are here!” He said and your smile grew.

“I’m glad you showed up to your party.” You replied and he laughed.

“I went to the wrong bar two times before I came here.”

“You made it and that’s what matters.”

“Yup- anyway, if I were to say do karaoke, would you join me?”

“What song because I don’t think I’ve listened to any normal music in ten years.”

“Your choice.”

“Champagne.”

He smiled to himself and then he looked back at you. “Let’s do it.”
You both got on stage and he looked at you and smiled reassuringly.

“So I got you a present, I went downtown to get it, are you doing anything tonight?”

The song went on as usual.

The part in the musical where Vanessa and Usnavi kiss came up and you both took a step forward.

“I wish I was mad- I’m just too late.” You concluded and you both just stared at each other, not knowing what to do. Everyone applauded loudly and cheered and you put the microphone back on the stand, quickly going back into the crowd.


3.
“Take that back!” You yelled and Lin looked at you, amused.

“I stand by what I said.” He replied and you groaned out of frustration

“Groundhogs day is the best holiday ever and I will fight you.”

“Why is it the best holiday?”

“I don’t know but it is, okay? We have an entire day dedicated to whether a groundhog sees his shadow or not and I think that is great.”

“I mean it’s either six weeks until spring or six more weeks of winter and it means the exact same thing?”

“You can fight me.”

“No, I don’t want to fight you. I’m just saying that groundhogs day is pointless.”

“And I’m just saying that you can fight me.”

“I much rather kiss you.”

“What?”

“Forget I said anything.”


“No. You said-”

“That groundhogs day is pointless.” He finished, turning a light shade of red.

“No after that.”

“That I much rather kiss you than fight you?”

“So why don’t you?” You asked and he froze before he leaned in close to you.

“Groundhog’s day is pointless.” He whispered before pulling away. You rolled your eyes, glaring at him slightly.

“You are such a tease, I can’t believe it.”

“So you’re saying you wanted me to kiss you?” He asked and you shook your head, maybe a bit too quickly.

“Forget I said anything.” You answered.


4.
“This is the best Valentine’s Day ever.” You announced and he shook his head, smiling.

“We are laying in my bed and watching cartoons.”

“Like I said, best Valentine’s Day ever.” You smiled and you put your head on his chest and stared up at the TV, aware that he was now resting his chin on your head.

“And here I was thinking that it was just because you were spending it with me.”

“Well that’s partly true. And it’s also because you’re letting me wear your hoodies.”

“Am I ever going to get those hoodies back?”

“Maybe.”

“I’ll take that as a yes because you finally gave me my suit jacket back today.”

“Well your hoodies are really comfortable so I wouldn’t get your hopes up.” You told him and you closed your eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve told you but you’re beautiful.” He said gently and you opened your eyes quickly.

“I don’t think I’ve told you but you’re the corniest person I know.”

“No, corny would be looking at someone while I ask if the view is amazing and you reply yes and you are talking about them.”
“Seems oddly specific.”

“New Year’s Eve.”

“For the record I was talking about the city as well, I just happened to be looking at you.”

“Sure.” He teased and you rolled my eyes.

We watched the cartoons in silence for a bit before you turned over, facing him. He looked at you, a gentle smile on his face and he sat up. You sat up as well and he leaned over the bed, about to kiss you before the doorbell rang and he swore under his breath in Spanish.

“That’s probably the food.”

“I’ll get it.” You offered and you slid off the bed and quickly made your way out of the room.


5.

“We only have thirty minutes before the first song- you should probably grab your seat.” Lin said, looking a bit nervous. You smiled and grabbed his hand.

“Hey, you can do it. You’re gonna blow everyone away.” You told him and he smiled a bit.

“You really think so?”

“Lin I’ve been spending so much time at your apartment to make sure that you get sleep and I’ve heard you sing all of the songs. I know you can do this.” You reminded him.

“Right, right.”

“Lin look at me.” You said and he looked at you, a mixture of panic and excitement on his face. “I believe in you. Your cast mates believe in you.”

“I know I know I just… what if I-”

You pressed your lips to his and he stopped talking instantly, relaxing and kissing you back.

“Finally.” You heard someone say and you jumped away and looked over to see Chris with his arms crossed and smiling. “I have been waiting for you guys to do that since you first met each other.”
Your face turned red and Lin’s face turned red as well.

“Good luck.” You whispered and Lin smiled brightly.

“I knew that you were the more cliché one.”

“Oh c'mon how was that cliché at all?” You argued and he laughed quietly.

“Shutting me up by kissing me? Cliché. I’ll see you after the show.” He giggled and you nodded. He stole one last glance at you before you exited the backstage area, walking around to the main entrance and you got into your seat right as the show started. The first song started and when Lin entered center stage, you felt excitement rise in you.

“Alexander Hamilton.” He sang, followed by thousands of people cheering. He looked around the audience before finding your eyes. “My name is Alexander Hamilton. And there’s a million things I haven’t done but just you wait. Just you wait.”

romance sentence starters.

“ if you are not too long, i will wait here for you all my life. “
” i have always loved you. “
” you mean the world to me. “
” i will always love you. “
” you always have a special place in my heart. “
” you have my heart. “
” you’re under my skin, what can i do? “
” if i could give you the world, i would. “
” you are everything i ever wanted and more. “
” you are the reason behind my smile. “
” you’re the only light in this darkness. “
” there’s nothing more romantic than italian food. “
” you caught me, i’m a hopeless romantic. “
” i will always be here for you, when you aren’t here for me. “
” your love is like a drug, it’s addictive. “
” hurting your feelings is like hurting my own. “
” i’m only happy when you are. “
” there’s nothing more romantic than speaking french. “
” you have me in a way no one else could ever have me. “
” you are my heart, my soul, my breath. “
” living life without is pointless. “
” i suffocate when you are away from me. “
” i’ll hold yesterday in my heart. “
” i’ll try to love again, but i know it is a pointless effort. “
” you are a dream come true to life. “
” i’ve never loved like this before in all my life. “
” i could stare at you forever and never get tired of your face. “
” do you want to take a flight to paris with me? “
“ i thank god everyday for you. ”
“ you are the love of my life. ”
“ i’ll never love anyone more than i love you. ” “ all of my emotions are wrapped up in you. ”
“ i do love you, more and more every day. ”
“ you won’t have to give me a second chance, the first one is all i need. ”
“ there aren’t even words to express my love for you. ”
“ i could tell you all of this until you’re blue in the face and it still won’t serve justice. ”