she totally deserves this

Tyler: “I’m so disappointed in you, Scarlett, for what you’ve done, and in you, Marie, for acting like this.”

Marie: “Dad! It’s totally unfair! She deserves to be punished, not me! Headmaster said that one reason for expelling me too is that they can’t risk it! They think I’m the same! I was just trying to save myself from being sent back home! That’s why I told them everything!”

Tyler: “Go to your room, girls.”

Marie: “I’m not going to share a room with her.”

Tyler: “Fine, until we figure it all out, you’ll stay with James in Caleb’s old room.”

Marie: “Don’t bother ‘figuring it all out’, dad. I don’t wanna go back anyway. Not anymore.”

Tyler: “In that case I really don’t get your point, Marie. Go upstairs, now.”

Author Spotlight 4/24/17

This week’s spotlight falls on @torn-and-frayed aka Steph. She reluctantly agreed to let me spotlight her, which I appreciate, because she totally deserves it. This woman can write! I “discovered” Steph last year after she messaged me and asked me to write a Dean x Donna fic based on something Briana Buckmaster said at a con (I partially blame her for being obsessed with them as a couple). I started following her and completely fell in love with her writing. Check out her master of one shots, series, etc., here and her Series Rewrite (which is phenomenal) here. To learn more about her, take a look at her Q & A below the cut.

Keep reading

heather fuckin chandler

lemme tell u something about heather chandler

heather was rude and bitchy and a total bully with inexcusable actions but tbh????? she deserves so much more than life gave her

heather chandler had one real friend

veronica hated her and heather duke hated her

heather mcnamara however is the only one that even remotely liked her as far as we can tell

she called heather chandler her best friend, and after giving martha that note, she went back over to the heathers and actually hugged onto heather chandler’s arm (which was insanely cute btw i love it)

everyone else in the school thought she was hot but none of them liked her

and the sad part about it??? i’m pretty sure heather at least somewhat cared for her friends

she had pictures of her and veronica in a photobooth in her locker along with other pictures of her and her friends

i mean, she really did like veronica too

she brought veronica to a college party instead of her other friends, she gets pissed off when veronica talks to other people (ESPECIALLY jd oh god she gets so mad), and according to veronica, heather calls her late at night just to babble and talk about literally whatever

she confides in veronica, she likes her, and chansaw is rEAL just very one sided and repressed

and do u think i’m done bc i’m NOT

tw mentions of rape and sexual abuse below

i noticed something v upsetting while watching the movie about heather at the party

there was a short scene of heather making out with one of the college guys at the party but she pulls away and says she just wants to get back to the party, which he responds with that they will, but she just looks so hot tonight and he can’t help himself

and here’s where it hit me in the feels HARD

heather’s expression after he says those words

she seems uncomfortable, a bit nervous, and it becomes clear that she doesn’t want to

and the fact that it’s not something she wants to do really stands out when the college guy’s hand moves to her upper back and he actually has to move her downwards

shortly afterwards, there’s a very short clip where she stares at herself in the mirror, drinking a glass of water, and then she suddenly spits out all the water over her reflection with this look of disgust, looking at herself the entire time

now i think this scene is overlooked for a specific reason, and that reason is the other girls in the movie

when ram is kissing heather mcnamara, she is very clearly struggling and pushing at him and fighting

when jd kisses veronica when she tries to leave him, she fights him and pushes and escapes

but heather chandler doesn’t fight

she doesn’t say a word, she doesn’t try to leave, she doesn’t fight him at all

here’s the thing about that

heather chandler is a very sensible person who can tell when something isn’t right

we see this when she claims jd should be put in prison for bringing a gun to school because he’s clearly dangerous, while her friends don’t think it’s a big deal

when jd hands her the cup, she immediately assumes that because of what happened last night, veronica did something to the cup to prank her and at first refuses to drink it

she’s smart, she’s clever, and she knows what’s going on

and because she knows these things, i think she’d also know that there are some men who don’t take kindly to a girl saying no

think carefully

they were alone in a room, and if she happened to refuse and he got violent and hurt her, nobody would see or hear it happen

she knows this and knows that for her own safety, it’s better to go along with it, get it over with, and go back to the party

this is all entirely speculation and i’m just going off of little details here but quite honestly, it makes sense to me 

tldr: she was a bitch, but heather chandler honestly needs a protection squad and deserved so much better and i just have a lot of emotions about her


In which Ellie Miller needs a smaller font

Me, before watching this weeks epi of LoT: This is super messed up that I am lowkey shipping Rip with the fucking AI of the ship. I guess this is my new low.

LoT: *gives Gideon a body for an episode and Rip kisses her after an emotional parting while also it being canon that both Gideon and Rip remember said kiss and liked it*

Me, after watching LoT: Throw me in the dumpster because I am hiGHKEY SHIPPING RIP AND GIDEON.


endless list of favorite characters + Mary Stuart

“ I will let no one, not Elizabeth, not any usurper, take my country from me. Since I was a babe, I have been a Queen. Since a child, I have been alone on foreign soil. I know how to keep my life, my crown and I will. “

Because I met @purgatoryjar in Hamburg and she is beyond awesome, as is the city. (seriously though guys go give Elena all the love ever because she is fantastic and totally deserves it… she even illustrated this little fic JUST LOOK AT HER AMAZING ART!)

There are two dancers who salsa in front of the Kunstalle. They twist and spin and fall out of their holds like the joyous amateurs they are—always with smiles on their face. They learn together; stopping deliberately to demonstrate a new move or step behind their partner, pressing too close as they move the other’s hips with their hands. Lips brush against earlobes in whispered instruction. Fingers squeeze encouragement. They own an ancient boom box that plays homemade CDs of current pop music.

They dance every Sunday evening, long after the curators have gone home and the tourists have ventured off into pubs and biergartens. It’s only them and the trains, then; the deliberate push and pull of bodies contrasted with sluggishly-moving metal. The soundtrack is a mechanical clunking overlayed with Pitull. This is the only time the green-eyed dancer will ever admit to listening to Pitbull.

The sun sets and bathes everything in gold, and the pair mistakenly crash into each other, dissolving into huffed, out-of-breath laughter. They’re drawn together by tethers no human can see. “Hi,” says one, grinning as he pushes dark, sweat-curled hair behind an ear.

“Hello,” the other answers with a similar smile.

The blue-eyed dancer spins out and they start all over again.

^^once again, this beautiful piece was done by @purgatoryjar​. Go love on her!

Not So Shore

A ‘Mortals Meet Percabeth’ fic, with a twist!!
10k words

“Hey, Kelly?”

Kelly looked up from her biology textbook, blinking at her best friend Olivia, who was definitely not doing the chapter review questions they’d been assigned. “What?”

“Do you think there’s something weird about Percy Jackson?” Olivia asked.

Kelly followed her to gaze to where Percy was sitting at the back of the room, leaning back in his chair. He wasn’t doing the review questions, either - instead, he was staring into the fish tank behind his desk. Kelly couldn’t see his face, but his dark hair was ruffled up and he was wearing his AHS hoodie with ‘Jackson’ emblazoned across the back of it.

“What do you mean, weird?” she asked, turning back around to Olivia.

Olivia shrugged. “I mean, just… there’s something strange about him.”

Keep reading

18| Pas De Deux

Pairing: Jimin x Reader
Genre: Ballet au, Romance, Angst
Warnings: None
Wordcount: 3782

Masterlist | Prev | Next

Minjee yanked her pointe shoe off with everyone watching. Her face was bright red, and at breaking point. Almost the whole class was laughing. Even Eungkwan had a covert smile on his face. You nearly felt sympathetic. Because of Jimin and Taehyung, Minjee had had a pretty hard class. But not really, she totally deserved it. Besides you couldn’t be a saint. She hadn’t cared when it had been you.

She spun around to face you, her eyes venomous. “You’re gonna pay for going and crying to the seniors.” She spat. Her eyes roved around your class, who tried to stifle their giggles. “Shut up!” She snapped, and stormed out the door, her gum-covered pointe shoe swinging dangerously from the ribbons. Seohyun hurried after her.

“Those men are legends.” Yuna said, shaking her head in disbelief. She glanced at you. “Were you in on that?” She sounded curious, not accusing.

“Nope, though it seems like the sort of thing Taehyung might do.”

“Oh my god, (Name)!” Hyeun squealed. “You’re so lucky being on first name basis with them!” She grabbed your hands and jumped up and down excitedly. “And they did all this for you!”

Yuna and you exchanged glances. “Minjee’s pissed.” She said with a grin as the two of you sat down. “Though it might not have been the best idea to ruffle her feathers just before the review.”

“Aw, come on Yuna!” Hyeun exclaimed. “Jimin’s already ruffled her to oblivion. God, he was terrifying.”

Yuna nodded. “He had a very good point though, for all of us.”

Hyeun sobered, her eyes turning regretful as she picked at the knot of her pointe shoe.

You glanced at your phone. “I better get going.” You said, pulling the drawstrings of your shoe bag and standing up. “I have to get to that ballet store before it shuts.”

“Wrystone?” Yuna asked. “What fo - oh, right shoes.”

You nodded, not quite able to keep your irritation off your face.

“Wait a sec.” Hyeun mumbled as she began rummaging around in her dance bag. Eventually she pulled out around 25000 Won and held it out to you.

You frowned. “Hyeun I can’t…”

She shook her head. “Jimin was right. We had no authority to do that to you. And now you have to get a whole new pair of pointe shoes which you shouldn’t have to pay for. 25000 Won won’t pay for all of it, but I’ll try getting some of the others to chip in” Hyeun gave you a shy smile. “We’ll pay you back.”

You hesitantly took the money. “Thank you, Hyeun.” You said sincerely. Maybe Hyeun could be mislead, or made  judgements without thinking them through, but what person hadn’t gone through a stage like that?

She grinned, once again her normal self.

“See you later!”


The bus stop was about a hundred yards down the road from Amour you found out from Mrs Cope, the receptionist who you’d discovered behind a massive stack of fabric receipts and post-it notes. She’d handed you a bus timetable and a map, before writing that you were ‘out of house’ on a little whiteboard.

You looked at the bus timetable as you headed up the stairs. The buses were infrequent. As far as you knew, Amour was in a pretty secluded area, and most students probably didn’t bother going in that often. If you wanted to see Jiwoo as well as get your pointe shoes, you’d have to catch the bus that left in ten minutes and miss lunch.

The dorm room was empty by the time you got there. You were glad, another confrontation with Minjee was not on your agenda. You opened up your trunk, the stench of horrible wet, stained clothes hit you. Those idiots…

Holding your breath you dove an arm in searching for your wallet. After a while you finally found it, typically it was at the bottom.

The sticky stuff dripped from the wallet. It looked like porridge. Quickly you shut the trunk with your elbow and hurried to the bathrooms. You ran your wallet and arm under the tap, feeling nauseated. Jimin’s words had put them so clearly in the wrong that you found yourself even more repulsed than this morning. How could they have done this when they didn’t even know whether you’d 'ruined the review’ or not? Why hadn’t anyone thought about what they were doing?

You took a deep breath. Maybe Jimin had changed that.

You turned off the tap, only just realizing that running water on your credit card and banknotes might not have been the greatest idea.

Then you changed into the clothes Dawon had given you. Black tights, a short blue and black tartan skirt and a long sleeved dark blue v-neck. She’d even managed to find you a pair of knee high boots and dark blue leg warmers. You smiled. Leg warmers seemed to be essential to Dawon. Last of all, she’d included a black jacket. Quickly you pulled off your hairnet and hair ties, slipped your wallet into your pocket and rushed out, knowing you had wasted way too much time.

By the time you got out the double doors and down the steps, it was raining. You sat of in a sprint seeing as the bus was beginning to take off.

“Hey!” You yelled, waving your arms frantically. The bus suddenly swerved onto the side, just a few metres from the bus stop. You hurried up to it, breathing hard as the doors hissed open.The bus driver looked at you grumpily as you fumbled around for money.

You finally handed him some coins. He raised a displeased eyebrow. What? Oh no, there was a glob of oatmeal stuck to one of the coins. “Sorry.” You said, and replaced it with another, the bus driver grunted, and you quickly moved in. The few other people on the bus gave you irritated looks.

You shuffled into one of the back seats, staring out the window at the lashing rain. A tiny smile came to your lips. It felt so normal. Aside from the dressy clothes and oatmeal, you were used to running after the bus. Before you’d gotten your Honda a few months ago, you’d spent many mornings running after the school bus, then guiltily walking back into the house and asking your mom or dad for a lift, or, if you did manage to stop it, clambering on to the amused looks of other students. It was funny to think that only a few months ago, ballet had just been a cherished hobby.

The jolting stop of the bus pulled you out of your thoughts.

You quickly got out, carefully avoiding the flooded gutter. You hurried under the awning of a shop, avoiding the pouring rain, and walked along. Wrystone, it seemed, was nothing more than a few shops and a tiny park, maybe two blocks on either side of houses, it was kind of cute. The ballet shop Dawon had told you about was pretty easy to spot. It had a hanging sign, like the ones outside old English taverns, with a painting of ballet shoes, and the words:

Sung & Sons

Dance Emporium

You went in, a bell tinkling with the door. The shop was warm and well lit. Surprisingly, there were a few people milling around, even though Wrystone seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. Maybe people made long journeys to get here, it would certainly be worth it. It was like Dawon’s room, just more orderly and much, much bigger. Practise tutus hung from the ceiling, and clothing racks full of black leotards were scattered about, along with great barrels of packeted tights. A mother was trying to pull two little girls away from the mannequin of a sparkling fairy tutu.

But there weren’t just ballet things. On short shelves were rows and rows of tap shoes and tango shoes and jazz shoes and dance sneakers. Glittering ballroom costumes and unitards filled more clothing racks. On another shelf was a collection of dance class CD’s, music sheets and books.

There was another stand with hooks, on which hung every colour of bandeaus and crocheted hairnets and bobby pins known to man. At the very back of the shop was the biggest collection of pointe shoes you’d ever seen. The entire back wall was concealed by floor to ceiling shelves, each one stacked high with pointe shoes.

“Freed of London?” Came a voice from behind. You spun around.

A man with greying red hair and a goatee beaming down at you. He had old, circular glasses, and he wore a grey and red pinstriped waistcoat over his shirt. A badge pinned to it said:

Mister Sung, owner

You frowned, confused for a second, then realised what he meant. “Oh, yes.” You said nodding. “I use, Freed pointe shoes.”

“Mmm.” He nodded, pensive. “I thought as much. I can always tell, you see. You have the calves for it, you and I am guessing your feet are not as wide as some. You’re from Force de la Beauté?”

You smiled, narrowing your eyes. “How did you know?”

“Ah!” He clapped his hands together. “Your eyes, my dear, your eyes!” He chuckled at your bemusement. “You look terribly tired, you know. I am supposing you’re in need of something specific?”

You nodded. “Pointe shoes, actually.”

“Splendid!” He clapped his hands again and began leading you through the store. You marvelled at a beautiful collection of tiaras sitting in a glass case you passed. “Now, I’m sure your past the studio brand, yes?”

“Yes.” You said. You’d only been en pointe for three years, and you knew very little about the different brands of shoes. However you did know that Freed of London had studio shoes, for beginner pointe dancers, and then another range for the more experience dancers.

“Classic Pro.” You told him.

“Aha.” He said. “A nice design, you know. Not for the fainthearted, mind. They don’t have a beginner’s support.” You reached the back shelves. A two metre barre was secured to the ground right by it, and a bench. Mister Sung climbed up one of the shelf ladders with surprising agility. You sat down on the bench and began taking your leg warmers and boots off. “I’m curious Miss?”

“(Surname)” You supplied.

“Miss (Surname), as to why you need another pair of pointe shoes so soon. You see, we have been delivering three pairs of pointe shoes for every Amourian danseuse each month since Jinho signed a contract with us all those years ago. You must be a very fierce dancer to warrant a fourth pair in such a short amount of time?”

“I arrived late.” You told him as he shifted through the many packets of pointe shoes. “My old pointes were a few months old.”

“They died, then?” He spoke as if they were relatives, not just shoes.

“Yes.” You said. If he liked pointe shoes that much, then getting into what actually happened didn’t seem like a good idea.

“Ah, the time we cobblers take to make them.” He grumbled fondly. “Only to have you stamp them out in a single performance. Now, what are your measurements?”

You told him the measurements you had memorized after your first fitting. He eventually came down with a pair, and you slipped them on. Without any ribbons, they were loose, but using the barre you were able to follow Mister Sung’s instructions. “Every pair is slightly different, Miss (Surname).” He said, kneeling down to check the shank length. “And so every shoe must be tested. All these silly people buying pointes on the internet. Now please climb up to pointe.”

One foot at a time, you stood up on your platforms. You gritted your teeth against the added pressure. Until the toe box had moulded to your own toes, it was going to hurt more than usual. The fact that you weren’t wearing gel pads probably made it worse. “A nice arc there, Miss (Surname).” He said approvingly while gently squeezing the toe box.

The image of Taehyung twisting Minjee’s foot this way and that came into your head, and you tried not to giggle. How Minjee possibly thought that Taehyung had any knowledge of pointe shoes you did not know.

“Well, these seem to fit you perfectly well, Miss (Surname).” Mister Sung stood back up, and you went back down to flat. “I take it you’ll be needing ribbons and such?”

“Yes please.” You said, putting your boots back on.

He grabbed the necessary packets and took them to the counter. As he put your new shoes back in their plastic and tallied up the total, you looked at the beautiful jewellery boxes next to the till. Each one had a different ballerina on it. One was wearing a deep blue tutu, her arms in an oval above her head, her leg out behind in an attitude. You ran a gentle fingertip down her figure. That would be you tomorrow.

“Beautiful little pieces, aren’t they?” Mister Sung asked.

You nodded, still staring at the tiny dancer. Tomorrow. You gulped and snapped out of it, reaching into your wallet for your credit card. You handed it to him.

“Thank you.” You said as he gave you the plasticbag.

“It was good to meet you, Miss (Surname)” He gave a little bow.

You smiled and bowed back. “And you too.”

You left the warm store, and began walking again, digging the map out of your pocket. Miss Cope had circled the next bus stop you’d have to go to, to get to the hospital.

You got there with ten minutes to spare, and ducked into a nearby cafe to get a takeaway chocolate. You didn’t trust yourself to do nothing. You couldn’t have a nervous breakdown in the middle of the street.

Having waited for your chocolate you got out just in time for the bus, and managed to pay without any oatmeal. The hot creamy chocolate, managed to calm you the rest of the way.

The hospital, Seoul Hospital, was a fancy modern building, ten storeys high. You hopped out of the bus, with excitement. You were finally going to see Jiwoo! You hurried through the automatic doors and away from the rain.

Immediately you were enveloped in the white cleanliness and quietness. Doctors and nurses walked about purposefully, walking past patients as if they didn’t exist. If any of the few people in the main reception spoke, it was in hushed tones.

The receptionist registered you and told you where to go. The orthopaedics ward was on the fourth floor. You took the elevator up. It was a great relief from Amour’s endless stairs.

The fourth floor was almost identical to the bottom, and you quickly navigated your way through a maze of shiny white corridors. Jiwoo’s was the second to last on the right. You knocked gently, though your excitement was mounting.


You pushed open the door. “Oh my God, (Name)!” Jiwoo sat propped up with pillows on a bed in the centre of the small, generic hospital room. Her hair was in a messy ponytail, and there were bags under her eyes, but she grinned widely.

You quickly shut the door behind you, trying not to squeal. “How are you?” You asked as she pulled you into a one sided hug. You pulled back quickly, not wanting to hurt her. Her left arm was in a cuff and collar, but she was still smiling.

“I’ll do. How are you?” She grabbed your hand. “You have to tell me everything that’s happened since I left!”

“But you’re the patient.” You began, but she shook her head.

“My days have consisted of painkillers, get well cards and hospital food. Not that intersting. Tell me how the review preparations are going! What are the costumes like? How’s your solo? Have you spied on Master Kang’s class yet? Get me up to date!”

You laughed. “Fine, fine…”

And so you began. You described the costumes to her, right down to the smallest detail, and how you’d been absolutely terrible dancing in your tutu, and how Master Kang’s class was apparently doing a pas de deux in the middle of their piece. You told her how Madame Choi had asked Mister Ghim to alter the ending to make the music more dramatic.

That was all you could say without telling her about everything that had happened with Minjee. You didn’t want to worry her. You could see how tired she was. She couldn’t sit right up for long, and sometimes the slightest wrong movement made her gasp. However she knew something was up when you fucked up and accidentally told her about Mister Sung, the extremely enthusiastic pointe shoe seller.

“Wait! You’re planning to break in a new pair of pointe shoes by tomorrow?” She scrunched her face. “Why?”

You sighed, tracing the seam of your tights. “Minjee and I had a bit of a fall out.”

She grinned. “Because you were best buds before.”

“Totally…well, you know how me and Eungkwan were doing the lift as well?” She nodded. “I didn’t realize it at the time, but I bashed my head, and so I got a concussion.” You paused, looking at her.

She gave you a pained look. “I asked if you were okay. You should have told me, I’ve been wondering about that.”

You shrugged. “You were looking much words. I didn’t feel it at the time anyway.” She gave you a disapproving look, but nodded for you to go on.

And so you told her everything, from the awful tech class the next day to Jimin taking you to Doctor Hill. She laughed when you told her about the posters, but you’d been vague about Jimin and your’s argument. You just said that Jimin had been patronizing, and that you’d gone and messed around with the choreography to prove him wrong. She scowled when you told her about Minjee and everyone turning against you. You told her all your frustrations, your sadness this morning, and your trunk.

Jiwoo, who always saw the best in people, had scowled. “Minjee and her little group should be thrown out onto the street.”

You also told her what Jimin had said, though you couldn’t say it quite so elegantly, and then what Taehyung had done.

She laughed until the jiggling of her shoulder got too much. “I should send them a thank you card.”

The two of you sat in silence for a minute or two, Jiwoo digesting all that you’d told her.

“How’s Kwangsik?” She asked.


She shook her head sadly. “Doesn’t he know it wasn’t his fault?”

“I tried to tell him.” You said. “He danced with Yuna today, when Jimin put Dongwon with Jongsoo, and I think Jimin talked to him.” You sighed. “He doesn’t think you’ll forgive him and we haven’t been told much about your condition.”

Jiwoo looked down unhappily. “The surgery went fine. I mean, it was scary beforehand, but they’ve managed to get it all back in the right place, it’s just (Name).” She looked at you, her eyes filled with tears. “They’re saying it might never join back together correctly.” She swallowed. “I can’t dance with a messed up shoulder, (Name). I might not be able to dance again.”

“Oh Jiwoo.” You put your arms carefully around her.

Not being able to dance. Never dance again…

She cried into your shoulder. You couldn’t think of any words of comfort, only that it wasn’t for certain, and you knew that wouldn’t help.

The two of you stayed like that for a long time.

“Jimin was here earlier.” She said eventually, wiping her cheek with the back of her good hand.

You pulled back. “Really?”

She nodded. “I didn’t tell him, about the – ” She took a breath. “The possibilities, but he got injured as well when he was in first year. He injured his leg, and had to take three months off.”

“And yet he’s still at the top.” You murmured.

“I know, right? He said that he was really depressed at the beginning, but he said that he realized that just because he couldn’t do ballet didn’t mean he couldn’t still learn it.” Jiwoo seemed to perk up a little.

“He said that I should watch as much ballet as possible, see how the professionals do it and he said that he used to torture himself through hours of theory and choreography. Jimin said it gave him time to think about why he did ballet. ” She gave a small smile. “I know it’s not…smart to – to get my hopes up…but I want to do those things. I should make the most of all this, you know?”

“I understand.” You said.

There was an attentive knock on the door, and a nurse came in. “Visiting times are over, Hun.” She gave you a polite smile, and shut the door again.

“Right, I’ll tell you all about the review as soon as I can.”

She smiled. “Could you tell Kwangsik I said 'hi’? And for him not to worry.”

You pulled your boots back on. “Of course.”

You gave Jiwoo one last hug. “And don’t you worry about anything, 'kay?”

She grinned. “Just so long as you have Taehyung and Jimin to ward off Minjee…(Name)?”

You turned at the door.

“Thanks.” She said.

You smiled and left.

Your mind was full of thoughts as you went back down the way you came. Poor Jiwoo. You could only imagine the idea of never being able to dance. It was horrifying. But Jiwoo was strong and young. That might give her more of a chance?

You went out into the freezing cold. The rain lashed at you, seeping right through your jacket. You pulled the collar up around your neck, running along the pavement to the bus sign.

Arriving at the bus stop you looked at the timetable, trying to read past the rain. Twenty minutes. Great. You pulled your jacket even tighter, trying to shelter as much of your face as possible. Through your thin tights, your legs were absolute frozen.

You were glad Jimin had given Jiwoo had something to think about. Even if she couldn’t dance, there were so many positions in ballet companies and schools…

“(Name)!” You spun around, recognizing the voice in an instant. A sleek black Porsche had pulled into the bus stop. Jimin leaned out of the window, rain already beginning to drip from his brown hair. His eyes were squinted so he could see through the downpour. “Get in, I’ll give you a ride!”

Amethyst’s design I made (x) was originally this reform design. During colouring of that other piece, a dark dress just looked a bit more metal. I want her look to be comfortable, acrobatic and cool biker babe action girl like. I really like her to wear fingerless gloves (but didn’t in that other art for the more affectionate hand holding I’m gay)
I badly want to see her reform into something that just screams she finally broke free from self-hatred. She totally deserves a “moment of awesome”.

After (finally) finishing watching the latest episode I must say that I did love it. Everyone’s comedic timing was ON POINT and keyleth totally deserved the beautiful ceremony she got after all she went through. 


(and i don’t meant this as anything against the other characters, it’s just because well, i’m a bit biased as you know) 

i’m kind of bummed vex still isn’t getting bigger storylines? i know the feywild arc was supposed to be hers, but i sort of feel she has been neglected a bit after that? i mean, i know she’s got a huge personality so she (pretty much like grog and scanlan before) is always THERE even if she’s not the person who’s most involved; but keyleth ended her aramente and got that amazing feat, vax is getting more and more raven queen’s content, percy got an ENTIRE arc and he still has whitestone waiting for him. idk, i just wish we could explore more about vex. there are a loooot of stories there that don’t even involve percy and the title (the poachers, some trace of saundor?, the clasp guy who stalked her, more about syldor, the fact that she left her blood in opash’s layer, her promise to the raven queen, etc.) and then there’s also the title and her duties and the grey hunt. It would be cool to see her bonding with Cassandra like Vax with Keyleth’s dad. THERE ARE SO MANY THINGS! 

matt, we know you’re the coolest, give vex some love this 2017. 

Announcing: Mikasa Week 2017 + New Mikasa Blog!

First announcement is that this is a new blog dedicated completely to Mikasa Ackerman. Please feel free to follow if you feel the need to have more Mikasa on your dashboard. This blog will be run primarily on a queue with 1 post per hour. Expect everything ranging from fanart and graphics to fanfic and meta.

More importantly, Mikasa’s birthday is coming up on February 10th and she totally deserves to have a week to celebrate it! Especially during this hard time for Mikasa fans who are caught up on the manga. So let’s cut straight to the chase! 

Mikasa Week 2017 will run from Feb. 10 - Feb. 16 with an optional Bonus Day. The prompts will be the following:

Day 1: Family
Day 2: Childhood
Day 3: Strength
Day 4: Scarf
Day 5: Growth
Day 6: Fate
Day 7: Love
Bonus Day: Pick your own theme!

All posts must be tagged as #mikasaweek within the first five tags of your post. Failure to do this may result in your post not being seen and thus, not reblogged!

Please check the blog for the rules and feel free to send an ask if you have any further questions!

You can look forward to more events in the future as well!

Satellite | John Murphy X Reader

English isn’t my first language, so please excuse any mistakes.

A/N: I’m very obsessed with Satellite by Guster, so I decided to make a story based on it. But I, first and foremost, made it as a birthday present for @justauthoring. She is a great friend of mine, caring and wonderful and totally deserved it, so HAPPY BIRTHDAY, OLLY!

Characters: Murphy/fem!reader, Clarke. Bellamy is mentioned.

Word Count: 1978 words.

Since Murphy had been captured by grounders, he hadn’t been able to sleep well It’s not like you could sleep in peace while people torture you or when you can be killed at any second. And being back at the camp wasn’t exactly better, since there was Bellamy there, who seemed to be crazy to kill him. But there it was definitely safer. So, after helping Clarke take care of some ill people, sick of the illness he had brought to that place, he couldn’t help but get some sleep.

A while later he was awake again and saw that new sick people had been placed inside the dropship. He saw a familiar face between them, making his heart race a little. (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was there. (Y/N) “the best friend he ever had and who happened to be the girl he liked” (Y/L/N). He hadn’t seen her since he’d been banished from the camp, and he honestly thought he’d never see her again. But there she was.

(Y/N) was lying on the floor with her eyes closed, her face was covered with sweat as she kept her mouth slightly open to try to breathe better. Which didn’t seem to work, as soon the girl closed her mouth and returned to breathe through her nose. She began to cough, turning herself to the side and vomiting blood.

Clarke, who was checking someone else, picked up a wet cloth and started walking toward the girl, but was stopped by Murphy.

“I got this one.” he said, taking the cloth from her hand. She nodded and went back to the other person.

John crouched beside the girl, waiting for her to stop to throw up, and then starting to rub the cloth on her face, taking the thin line of blood down her mouth and taking some of her sweat away.

Her eyes then opened, staring at his face. She recognized him instantly, her lips parted, as if she meant to say something, but nothing came out of her mouth, which closed again after a few seconds, followed by a sigh. Her hands groped the floor until they reached Murphy’s hand, giving it a squeeze.

(Y/N) closed her eyes, leaning toward the cloth, as she felt it give her some relief as it brushed past her face. She smiled weakly as she felt herself drifting off to sleep.

Seeing her sick and weak like that made his heart sink a little, but if he had managed to get better, then she would, too. She was strong. And he had faith in her. And in fact, it didn’t take long for her to start getting better, and since that had begun to happen, she had also started helping Clarke with the sick people. But she and Murphy didn’t talk, occasionally they just sent glances at each other, just happy to have each other’s presence there. Just happy that each other was alive.

John was discreetly looking at the girl, who was cleaning one of the bloody cloths after helping one of the sick people. She took a quick glance at him, returning to concentrate on what she was doing.

He was sitting in one of the corners of the ship, since no one seemed to need his help at the moment. (Y/N) then walked over to him, kneeling beside him. “Hi.” she said, a small smile appearing on her face. “Hi.” he replied, kind of happy to see that the girl had made the first move to talk to him.

And then he noticed that the wet cloth was still in the girl’s hands, making him frown slightly. She realized that he was looking at it, and then started to direct it toward his totally screwed face. Murphy pulled away from the girl when he noticed the cloth was for him. (Y/N) rolled her eyes, trying to get closer to him, to which he kept pulling away. The girl sighed.

“Come on, John, you have to let me do this.” the girl rested on her knees. “It won’t hurt, I bet you won’t even feel it.”

The boy looked at her suspiciously for a few seconds before surrendering and coming closer to her, also resting on his legs, lifting his face slightly so that (Y/N) could clean it. He soon regretted it when he felt the cloth touch his wounded skin, feeling it burning, making John give her a glare.

“Yeah, I lied.” she said, grinning at him.

Murphy was ready to give her a cheeky comeback, but felt the cloth touching him again, making him grunt, followed by a “fuck” as he closed his eyes.

“Sorry.” she said. “It will be fast.”

He kept his eyes closed, as if that would make it hurt less. The pain stopped being so uncomfortable after a few minutes as the boy began to get used to the sensation. And then, in the midst of all the sounds of people almost dying around them, Murphy heard a familiar rhythm, then opening his eyes and realizing that it was just (Y/N) humming a song. He knew that song and to hear it being hummed by the girl caused some memories of the Ark to come to him. The two of them used to listen to this song together while they were hanging around. Their favorite song. Their song.

Murphy could not help but analyze the girl, something he often did on the Ark and even on Earth. He loved taking every detail of her face, her eyes, her nose, her sweet lips. He actually loved decorating every detail of her, her hair, her hands, her silhouette. Everything. And then think about how lovely she was. Always trying to help others and trying to see the best in people. Trying to see the best in him, even when he couldn’t see it. Maybe that was why he had fallen in love with her, but he had never risked telling her that. She was very good for someone like him, maybe she was always a little out of his reach.

John could not help but be amused when he noticed the concentration (Y/N) was putting on it, looking intently at his face as he carefully wiped the cloth over his cheek. He was somehow happy to be back at the camp. Back to her.

“I wanted to look for you.” she said after a few seconds. “But they didn’t let me out.”

“Good they didn’t.” he said, his voice sounding a little hoarse. (Y/N) glared at him, looking a bit offended. “Look at how I am. It’s dangerous out there.”

The girl glared at him for a few more seconds before nodding and wiping the little bit of bruises left on his face. “Well, I’m glad you’re back.”

“You seem to be the only one;” he murmured, noticing the icy glares some delinquents sent him.

“I missed you.” she said with a shrug, as if it were an obvious thing.

Unlike Murphy, (Y/N) had always been good at showing her feelings, he had always had a problem with that. He wanted to tell her that he had missed her too, to tell her how difficult it had been to spend those days without her. But he just nodded, saying a low "Same.”

That, however, seemed to have been enough to cheer the girl, who smiled warmly at him, taking the cloth off his face and putting it to her side. “It’s done, you’re brand-new.” she said, beginning to tell him what had happened while he was away, but John was no longer listening, since his thoughts were far away.

Murphy always had problems concentrating when he was next to (Y/N), but that smile she was giving. Oh, that smile. That smile made him forget the terrible last days he had had, and the growing anger he felt for those who had tried to hang him. And while (Y/N) was beside him, he was sure that those thoughts wouldn’t come back to him. She always brought the best of him.

Seeing her talking excitedly to him made him feel relieved. He really thought he would never see her again. In the Ark, everything was more certain, the certainty that he would see her the next day, safe and alive. But on Earth everything seemed so uncertain. (Y/N) could easily be dead the next morning, dying without knowing how important she was to him. Dying thinking that to him she was a “same”, not knowing that in fact she was an “I fucking missed you too”. (Y/N) always made sure he knew that he was important to her, even if it was just as a friend. He wanted to do the same. He needed to do the same, at that moment. He couldn’t put it off any longer, because maybe they might not have a ‘later’.

“I’m glad to be back, too.” he said, cutting off whatever she was talking about. “I missed you too.”

(Y/N)’s smile widened at the boy’s words. “I’m glad to hear that.”

Murphy looked at her smile one more time before taking a deep breath and trying to find the right words to say to her. Why feelings had to be so difficult? “You’ve always been here for me…” he began slowly, looking anywhere but her.

Well, we’re friends, it’s normal that…“ she said, being cut off again by him.

"You always believed in me, you make me want to be a better person.” he paused again, taking a quick look at the girl’s confused expression. “You kinda guide me, I… Well, you’re… Good. And that makes me want to be good too. Good enough for you. But I don’t think I’m very good at it.” he chuckled. “But you’re always there, no matter how much I’ve screwed it up.”

“I would never give up on you,” (Y/N) commented. “I’m flattered that you see me like this, but I don’t want you to change for me. I mean, you’re good in your own way and I love it.” the smile reappeared on her lips.

Oh boy, she’s so precious. That smile, how could he not be attracted to those lips? And as that thought passed in his mind, Murphy followed his instinct and leaned toward her, pressing his lips against hers, making her gasp. As he pulled away from her, he noticed her surprised face. “Oh.” she chuckled, feeling her cheeks begin to heat up.

That was the time. He just had to say the three words that defined what he felt for her. The three words he could barely remember the last time he’d used them. “I love you”.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened, even with the kiss, she didn’t expect those words to come from him. A goofy smile came to her lips. “Wow.” she just managed to say at first, unable to stop smiling. “You were always special to me.” she began and he nodded, predicting the speech ‘you’re like a brother to me’ that was to come. “But I never thought you felt that way for me.” she intertwined her hands nervously. “I’m very glad you feel like this. I love you too.” she said awkwardly. She wasn’t used to saying that.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, not knowing what to say. Murphy with a rare true smile, while (Y/N) continued with her goofy, embarrassed smile.

“So…” a voice behind them caught their attention. Clarke. “If you’re done, can I steal (Y/N) for a few more minutes?”

(Y/N) smiled sheepishly, apologizing for being distracted, although she didn’t seem to feel sorry at all. She picked up the cloth again and hesitantly kissed Murphy before returning to help Clarke, while John watched the sweet girl doing what she did best, help people. And with a smile he thought, if she saw in him someone good, then he saw it too.

anonymous asked:

I really love skam but I have like one problem with the show and that is the fact that chris is such a bad written character, like we got so many interesting characters and the only overweight person is reduced to the "funny fat girl" stereotype and I think it's sad. Like fat people are almost always reduced to comic relief or stupid people in media and I would've thought that skam could do a better job portraying her. idk maybe I'm overanalyzing but i think she deserves better.

Hmm. personally I feel like she’s written totally fine? There was one moment where Noora was talking about the pressure on having a socially acceptable body today and Chris said, with yoghurt on her cheek or something, “I don’t really feel that pressure” and I found that moment unnecessarily and a tiny bit mocking maybe, but I don’t know.
I don’t feel like people are making fun of her because of her size or anything, to me she appears to be a comic relief character that happens to be overweight. She’s funny because she gives zero fucks, is openly sexual, loves booze and partying and says funny stuff. She’s never been fat shamed or anything?

Personally I think Ina would have played Chris and Chris would have had that personality no matter her size, but that’s just my opinion. Like you say ‘she deserved better’ so you mean Chris te character deserved better? Because I feel she wouldn’t be Chris if she was anything other than what she is. And if she was different I highly doubt they would have had Ina play her, and thus she wouldn’t have existed at all

Skam has several body shapes like the closest thing to Hollywood body standard would be Noora and William, the rest of them are average teenagers and I really love that about skam. Like I was so happy to see Vilde and Eva and Sana because their body shapes are so common and average but hardly ever shown on television, and I was very happy to see Chris because there are very few teenagers in Norway who are overweight and that causes those who are to receive a lot of bad attention. I get where you’re coming from and if anyone else wanna weigh in it’s an interesting topic.