And we all thought that we’d have a theory-less BTS content this time around….I was just randomly editing till this happened and I’m hollering. This is so cute y'all 😍 it’s a house with a (galaxy..?) Moon at the back ! BTS. Is. Art.
REQUEST: “how about one
day Credence does something stupid and starts beating himself up for it, and it
ends up with a kiss? Please and thank you”
Warnings: None, really, just a really upset Credence for a little bit there.
Word Count: 1,124
You’d been good friends
with Tina and Queenie for a while now, being their next-door neighbor. They
were both so good-hearted and kind that it was hard not to be their friend, and
because of that, you said absolutely nothing when Newt, Jacob, and Credence
came to stay in their apartment. And to be completely
honest, you were more than a little fond of that delicate-faced boy with
raven-black hair and honey brown eyes. He had been super shy and nervous for
the first few months around, but you were patient and waited for him to warm up
to you as you attempted to befriend him. You didn’t, and never would, mind his
silences and spent most of your time babbling at him when he was around,
something which you did not realize Credence appreciated tremendously.
So tremendously that he
was not totally afraid to knock on your door one mid-afternoon when everyone in
the apartment he lived in was busy. You opened the door in a towel at the soft
knocks on your door, assuming that Tina had finished the book you had lent her,
and came face-to-face with Credence—Well, face-to-chest—he was very tall. As
you stared wide-eyed up at him, Credence’s entire face flushed red all the way
to his ears. “Oh, Credence! I should have looked first, I’m so sorry! Please,
come in, I’ll get dressed really quickly, I’m so sorry!” You couldn’t help the
embarrassed shake to your voice as you stepped aside to let him in.
“N-No, Y/N, clearly it’s
a bad time. I-I can come back w-when you’re not busy, I’m sorry, I—” Credence
stopped himself before he could ramble on too much.
You were smiling now,
the embarrassment fading, as you waved him in, saying, “Really, Credence, I’ve
got nothing else planned today anyway. I would love the company!”
Credence ducked his head at that, flattered and a little bit
disbelieving still that you enjoyed his company, as he shuffled his way into
the apartment. “Y-You’re sure you don’t mind?” He asked after you as you
disappeared into your room, presumably to find clothes.
“Of course not, Credence! I’ve missed you these last few
days; I’m really quite happy that you came over because, if you hadn’t, I would
have come to find you! Please, though, make yourself at home. Take a seat. I’ve
got tea brewing, and I’ll be out in just a minute.”
Credence sat at the very edge of his seat on your couch,
smiling softly to himself at your kindness and how receptive you were to his
presence. He folded his hands across his lap as he waited for you to come out
of your room, excited to spend some time with you, though he’d never show it so
much externally. When you came out of your room in some loose-fitting pants and
a white t-shirt, wet hair falling in damp waves around your face, he couldn’t
help but smile a little wider at you. He followed you into the kitchen, happily
accepting the cup of tea you offered him, before noticing a picture over your
fireplace. “W-Who’s in that picture with you?” He asked, gesturing.
“Come see!” You waved him over as you walked toward the
picture. His heart almost dropped when he noticed it was a man only a few years
older than you, but then you began to say, “That’s my brother. I haven’t seen
him in a while, since he moved pretty far away, so I like to keep the picture
You were smiling fondly at the photo, and Credence couldn’t
help extending his hand toward it, which is about when things went horribly
wrong. Well, horribly wrong for Credence. His long finger accidentally clipped
the edge of the frame, causing it to teeter on the edge of the mantle before
toppling to the floor, shattering the glass frame. You gasped before setting
your cup down next to where the frame had been and leaning down to pick up the
glass shards. “Be careful, Credence! I’d hate to see you get cut on the glass!”
You were picking up the shards carefully, not caring overly much since you had
plenty of frames, but you were so focused on making sure there was no glass
left lying on the floor that you didn’t see the shame on Credence’s face.
He felt his face heat and tears swell in his eyes before
spilling over. “I-I’m s—I’m so s-sorry.”
You jerked your head up at the sound of Credence’s absolutely broken voice cutting through the
silence. “I’m so—so s-stupid, I broke
your p-picture and your frame, and I—”
You jumped up quickly, cupping Credence’s face in your hands
gently, trying to be careful as he jerked away from your touch. “Credence, it’s
okay. It’s just a frame; I have
plenty of them! The frame isn’t important to me at all. Please, don’t worry.”
Credence wasn’t pulling away from you anymore as you wiped
the tears from the corners of his eyes and his cheeks, but he was still talking
and punishing himself for his action. “I’m so—I didn’t mean t-to though. I am
s-so terrible, and st-stupid, and
Y/N, I r-really didn’t mean to, I-I’m so sorry.”
Your heart hurt at how often he was calling himself stupid
because clearly his mother had convinced him that was true, and you couldn’t
really stop yourself from pressing forward to put your mouth on his—both to
stop him from babbling about something so trivial (to you) and to convey how
much you cared for him—regardless of the broken frame.
It definitely stopped him from talking for a solid minute,
freezing both of you in place—your hand resting on his face with your thumb
just brushing against his bottom lip and him just staring at you with wide,
wondering eyes. “W-What was that for?” He whispered so quietly that, had there
been any other noise in the apartment, you wouldn’t have heard him.
“Well— Because I care for you, Credence. A lot. And I don’t
care about the frame; I care about you.”
Silence settled between the two of you, not uncomfortable,
as Credence took in your words. Tentatively, he reached up to put one hand on
your hip and the other on the back of your neck. “M-May I—May I kiss you again,
You nearly died at
how cute he was, his lips tilting up softly at the corners and tears drying on
his angelic face, but restrained yourself as you nodded and smiled up at him.
Both you and Credence ignored Queenie’s muffled “They’re finally getting together!” exclaimed through the wall in favor of
the feeling of gentle, persistent kisses.
Request: “Hi, can you do a fic based off “If I could tell her” from Dear Evan Hansen with a fluffy ending please 💕” ~ @actual–hobbit
Warnings: Fighting,Guilt, The death of Alex Summers :(
Pronouns: Female (I naturally write with female pronouns, but I try to change it up every once in a while. PLEASE feel free to request a version of this, or any previously written imagine with different pronouns. IT IS NO TROUBLE AT ALL, Also, if you have a request, feel free to make specific pronouns part of it.)
A/N: Ok, @actual–hobbit! I’m a theatre kid myself, but I’ve never seen Dear Evan Hansen. Needless to say, I did some research after getting your request and I LOVE the story and this beautiful song. I may have changed some things up (Alex wasn’t really abusive, like Connor) and I don’t think I made it fluffy enough at the end, but I really hope you like it! Thanks for requesting (and introducing me to a fantastic new musical <3) ) and have a groovy day!
(P.S. It sounds just as incest-y in the song. I promise. Beautiful song, though. Give it a listen. )
Peter felt like he was begging for a distraction. He wished that he could just sit down and read like a normal person. Instead, he paced the room with his History book open and his attention snagging on everything in his line of sight. He let out an exasperated groan and stuffed the book inside his backpack. Maybe, Y/N could help. He never had trouble focusing on her. She always grabbed his attention. That was part of the reason why he was failing history.
He knocked lightly on the door, to no response.
“Y/N?” He pushed the door open and looked around the room. No one.
“Damnit.” He whispered, plopping down in her desk chair. He scanned the walls and shelves pensively. He was in her dorm all the time, but he’d never really looked around that much. He was always there to watch movies and things like that. Not to mention Y/N was typically in there with him, meaning his level of attention to things other than her was pretty limited.
It was a home-y little room, filled with little decorations and pictures of her family and friends. He stood, picking up a picture from her shelf. Jean and Y/N in front of the Statue of Liberty. He smiled and grabbed another. Him and Y/N laying out on the grass in front of the school. It had only been a few days after the battle with Apocalypse. Peter still had his cast on. It had been a long couple of days and everyone was beyond exhausted. They’d fallen asleep by the lake and Jubilee managed to capture the picture before they woke up. As he propped the photo back up against the shelf, a loose photo fell from the back of the frame. He grabbed it just before it hit the floor. It was an older photo, dusty with bend corners. Captured in the frame was Y/N, her bothers, and an older man and woman. Her parents. He remembered seeing them at her brother’s funeral. She had written on the bottom of it. Summers’ 1975.
He studied the family, feeling a churn in his stomach. Alex Summers had died the day Peter evacuated the school during an explosion. Turns out, he had missed someone.
Alex was a friend. More importantly, he was a good person. Peter had never forgiven himself for overlooking him. Five months after his death, and Peter still felt nauseous at the thought of it. He should have gone deeper into the blast. He may have been able to get him out in time. If only he had gotten there just a little bit sooner. Alex deserved to make it out, not Peter.
He swallowed thickly. He was never fast enough. Not when it mattered.
He rested the photo up against the back of the shelf trying to erase it from his thoughts, but he couldn’t get the tightness out of his chest.
Suddenly, a distraction presented itself. A muffled door slam echoed down the hallway followed by quick footsteps. Y/N flung the door open and throw her bag down on the bed, tears in her eyes.
Peter stood, “Y/N?”
She jumped and flipped around.
“Oh, God. I’m sorry, Peter. I didn’t know you were in here.” She wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her sleeve and sat down on the bed, trying to gather herself. Peter joined her on the bed, hesitantly.
“What happened to you?”
Y/N took a deep breath. He could tell she was trying her hardest not to cry.
“Scott…He hates me… Alex hated me to.”
Peter frowned. Y/N loved her older brothers more than anything, but she wasn’t really that close to either of them. Alex had been gone a lot with the school and the X-men while she was growing up. That, in itself, had its effects. Every time she talked to him, it was as if they barely knew each other. Presumably because, they did barley know each other. They had both wanted to be closer, but neither of them knew how to get there. Scott, on the other hand, was with her everyday, growing up. They never left each other’s side until Alex died. After the funeral, they stopped talking and started fighting.
The tightness in Peter’s stomach returned.
“Scott doesn’t hate you, Y/N. And Alex didn’t either. He thought you were awesome.”
Y/N scoffed turning away from him.
“He thought I was awesome? My brother?” She whispered, intrigued by the comment. He followed her eyes, climbing over on the bed so that she was looking at him again.
“How?” She seemed to cling to his words. Like, it was the only thing left that could prove her wrong.
“He’d talk about you all the time, Y/N. He thought it was so funny that you’d fill out those quizzes in magazines…And you know how your mom gets angry when you draw on the cuffs of your jeans when you get bored…he knew all about that.” Peter paused, seeing the tears in her eyes. She gave him a watery smile.
“He loved your smile…” Peter whispered, “He said you’d never know how great it makes people feel when you smile”.
Y/N looked down at her feet. She would’ve killed to hear Alex say those things. Any of them.
“Did he say anything else?” Peter was caught off guard.
“Never mind, I don’t really care anyways-“
Peter grabbed her shoulder, still fumbling to hold her attention, “No, no, no—just, no, no—he said—he said so many things, I’m just—I’m trying to remember the best ones.”
Y/N laughed and caught a tear that was rolling down her cheek.
“Remember in middle school? When you put indigo streaks in your hair?”
Y/N nodded, remembering. She had begged her mom to let her dye her hair over the summer. It had taken her weeks to convince her, but she was entirely too happy when she finally caved.
“He thought it was really cool, when you did that.”
“Yeah! And whenever you danced at Jubilee’s birthday last year, he said you danced like the rest of the world wasn’t even there!”
Y/N laughed as Peter sat up on his knees, grabbing her hands. She sighed and looked over at the family photo on her nightstand. She took it, running her fingers over the glass pane.
“Hey…” Peter tilted her chin up to look at him, “Don’t worry about Scott. He’ll come around.”
She nodded sadly.
“You’ve both had something…something terrible happen to you. Sometimes, being there for someone is the best thing you can do. “
Peter could feel the pit in his stomach begin to return.
Y/N looked back at the picture, “It just seems like he’s so far away. It’s like I don’t know anything.”
Peter felt short of breath. If only he could tell her how much sleep he lost at night. If only he could tell her how he’d never forgive himself. If only he could tell her about how her smile seemed to make the sick feeling in his stomach go away for a while. That sort of subtle, perfect, real smile. If only he could tell her it was him who loved her blue hair and her stupid dancing and her magazine quizzes and the cuffs of her jeans. It was him who lived for her smile. It was him who loved her.
Can we just talk about how the final scene of Home Again feels like Scully is also grieving for William? Like Maggie made this connection with Mulder before dying like she very well knew William was his son and didn’t turn to Scully… Scully had more or less managed to compartmentalise her life so far and put the memory of William away like his picture in a drawer but this makes her realise the guilt will never leave her. She had to behave this way to survive it but she now realises that if she were in Maggie’s place tomorrow, William is her Charlie. Scully would ask to see William on her death bed and she is struggling to cope with the fact that he may never be able to forgive her for abandoning him. She is afraid of her mother’s last judgment on her about William and she is terrified of her own.
Holly or Kumamon?Holly The fan then asked what happened to the “So Far Away” music video that was announced through NAVER and other articles. Was it ever filmed, will it be released, is there even a video? No.
The golden question has finally been answered. There will be no So Far Away MV according to Min Yoongiㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ
The scale said 347
My heart says its five o clock somewhere
Is it really a bulimic episode if I’m in, like, season ten and have a loyal fanbase?
This is an ode to the chest hairs on my left pec that form a heart
This is an ode to the camera panning down full body nude that sometimes looks alright
This is an ode to all the people who said they weren’t like other people, that they wouldnt judge, but still left me on the bench.
My mother hugs me and tells me to stay on my diet
My friends on ‘roids and tells me I should try it
My pants dont fit and shorts do
And shorts do
So do shorts
What the fuck, it’s the middle of winter
At least noone questions the hoodies now
I am 6'3" and enough pounds that my doctor emails me and so so tired.
She flinches when I kiss her and I know my body is now too close to /his/ size
I realize that is niether of our responsibilities but…
I kinda liked kissing her
But she cried last time
At least noone questions the hoodies when its cold out
I hold out, hoping for my cotton cocoons to morph me into some butterfly bodytype that doesnt disgust you.
That lets me fly so far away from here
But I guess I’d rather send you pictures of it when you’re horny than talk about what made me this way.
She used to softly kiss the stretchmarks on my skin and tell me I was wonderful.
I took my shirt off in public last year.
It was a mistake I won’t soon make again.
This is the piece I wrote for the Hq!! Ghibli Zine, (now hq-ghibli-zine! Don’t forget to check the other amazing pieces!). Together with the awesome Taffy (check her amazing art here and cry with me), we developed this MatsuHana story, based on the movie “Princess Mononoke”.
I was kinda far away and it was dark so the pictures aren’t the best but it was so much fun! And we won too! Dan was so cute!!! He had us all golf clap and shout random things like Pasta and Rock Fuck. (I was on the half that just got to shout fuck over and over 😂) it was so great. Arin was so funny and sweet to everyone who came up on stage too. Ah, such good guys!