somehow it remind me of you

Sincerely, Me

Evan: In an email I received from you two weeks ago I noticed a comma in the middle of a phrase

Evan: It changed the meaning. Did you intend this? One key and you’ve consumed my waking days.

Evan: It says “Dear Evan Hansen,”

Evan: With a comma after dear

Evan: You’ve written “Dear, Evan Hansen”

Somehow our dinner conversation devolved into talking about Supernatural (go figure) and I was reminding the kid who Eileen was (kid hasn’t watched the show since mid s11). So I’m explaining Eileen when Mr. Mittens cuts me off VERY LOUDLY with, “YOU MEAN THE FUTURE MRS. SAM WINCHESTER?!”

So that’s it. Mr. Mittens is a ride-or-die Saileen shipper.

It’s actually kinda adorable.

10

you make me begin ; Kim Taehyung [6/6]
”As long as i’m with hyung, i’m happy no matter where we go. - Jeon Jungkook

it’s just. some days i can kind of breathe and you’d think those would be the best days. but usually they just remind me how much i have to catch up with. like i try to get organized and come back but the world kept turning while i shut down. it’s easier to just go back to bed. it’s easier to just pretend like if i keep running i somehow end up ahead.

I think I’m always chasing that particular high you only get from certain rare stories - the ones that resonate with you on a strange personal level, like an implacable aroma that reminds you of something that was once very dear to you but has somehow been forgotten. Those stories that rewire your brain just a little, just for a while. Not every great story has this effect - I have enjoyed many excellent books and movies that did not change me.

It’s just that now and then, if you’re very lucky, you’ll come across a story that feels like home, or a like limb you didn’t even know you had or how you got by all these years without using it. These stories haunt you and become part of your personal canon.

Story 215: Cultural Exchange

The human steps onto the station from her shuttle, and walks into the scanner.  It flashes - no weapons.  I pity her, though there’s nothing I can do for her.  By tomorrow she will be a slave the same as me; the Gaunvans collect ambassadors like trophies.
“Hello there!  Amanda Thorn, ambassador for the Empire of Humanity.  You’re a Ixian, correct?”
Mimicking human body language, I nod my head.  "That’s correct.  Ix Malasan.  It is an honor to meet you.“
She smiles, reminding me again that she has somehow modified herself to breathe atmosphere suited to the Gaunvans rather than wear a respirator like myself.  Other than that she appears to be a standard human, something I am led to believe is less and less common as they pursue the bizarre compulsion humans have to alter their bodies.  Changing hair color, adding pigments to their skins in patterns and pictures, growing long tails or ears that mimic other species from their planet.  No other known species tampers with their bodies like this.
“Not to be undiplomatic, she says, "but the Gaunvans enslaved your people.  Why are you here?”
“We… reached a mutually beneficial agreement.  We would have lost in combat and been eliminated, so we chose to preserve what we could of our culture.  The Gaunvans are not naturally skilled at diplomacy, so they bring me along to assist and to show that peace can be made.”
She nods.  "Understood.  I can respect that choice.  How much freedom do you have, personally?“
Smart of her, to start planning for her future. "A fair amount.  I have free reign on the ship when we are in transit.  At the homeworld I have reasonably comfortable quarters.”
“Have you ever met the Empress, or…?”
“Oh, no.  No, while on the homeworld I am confined to my chambers - but they’re quite spacious.”
“Shame.  Okay, plan ‘A’ then.  Let’s get this over with.”

Despite my attempt at encouraging diplomacy, the Gaunvan commander starts with threats.  I don’t know why I bother.  He looms over the human, chitinous plates almost black in the dim light.  His pod of six is posted around the room, for show more than for actual security since she followed orders and came alone and unarmed.  "Failure to surrender will bring the full wrath of our army upon you.  Humanity will be crushed, and wiped from the universe.“
To her credit, she looks very calm.  "We live in a post-scarcity society.  Bloody conquest just seems silly, doesn’t it?”
“It is for the glory of Gaun!”
“Well, I’m not prepared to get into a religious debate with you,” she says, “since I doubt there’s anything I can do to change your mind.  Since you’re committed to this course of action, what are you willing to offer if we surrender?”
Now he goes back on script.  Maybe I am getting through to him a little?  He talks about the benefits of being enslaved, mainly the protections for up to twelve designated culturally historical sites.  They’ve been mostly good on their word on my homeworld, though they did use the area just outside of the Hahhn Memorial as a waste dump.

She nods as she listens.  There was a part of me that was worried she would argue, because the humans are somewhat childlike.  They don’t understand the horrors of war.  Certainly they fought in the past, but the last time they had to battle was more than two of their generations ago, so these ones have all grown up coddled and soft.  They play games with each other instead, silly competitions.  They make art, and play pretend, and alter their bodies for fun.  They don’t have weapons anymore, and wouldn’t know how to use them if they did.
“Well then,” ambassador Thorn says, “this is about what I expected.  On behalf of humanity, I would like to formally reject this offer.”
Oh no.  Foolish humans.  The galaxy will miss your innocence.  The commander makes an excited clicking noise, looking forward to combat.  He reaches a blade-tipped hand towards ambassador Thorn, but hesitates as every device in the room bleats out an alert - we’ve all lost communications with the outside.

Like one of the dances humans do, she gracefully pivots around while taking his hand.  She ends up close to him and places her other arm against his thorax, then… oh gods. Gods, what… she’s ripped his arm off.  It’s not possible.  The commander is clearly thinking the same thing, staring in mute shock at his dripping limb.
“I’d like to extend a counter-offer,” she says, and flips the arm around before jamming the bladed end into his neck.  The warriors around the room are fidgeting, uncertain.  They haven’t been told to attack, and don’t want to dishonor their commander by intervening in a fight with such a small creature.  She’s still holding the commander’s severed arm in his neck, but she rotates and heaves, lifting him off the ground with it for a moment… and then his head pops off, landing squarely on the conference table.  She allows the corpse to slide to the ground, and straightens her clothes as if they aren’t covered in ichor.

I don’t understand.

The warriors, now with no orders at all, finally act.  She smiles as they come for her, I suppose because she has done her duty to send this powerful message of resistance.  She can die in peace.  Or… no… She’s killing them.  She’s smiling because this is fun for her.  Though they’re partly killing themselves; if there had been two of them, prepared, strategic, they might have prevailed.  Watching six panicked fighters get in each other’s way while trying to stop a smaller, faster, and somehow impossibly stronger foe is almost hypnotic.  At least one is killed by the stab of a friendly lance due to pure confusion.  It’s over faster than I would have thought possible, severed limbs strewn across the room.  I’ve got some fluids splashed across my clothing.  Only one yet lives, and he is retreating.  She seems to be allowing it.

She follows behind, holding a lance.  The wounded and scared warrior scurries down the hallway towards his ship, looking back behind him as he goes.  She’s just… walking.  Calm.  And for some reason I’m following.  The last Gaunvan reaches the airlock and the second he enters his code she throws the lance - throws it! - and spears him.
“Come on, we’re stealing their ship.”  She says it like this is the most normal thing in the world.
“There are thousands more on board!  Thousands!  Almost all warrior caste!”
She smiles again, and keeps walking.  I see errors on the screens that we pass, messages indicating communications have been lost.  They can’t tell anyone what is happening here.  Even the communicators within the ship are on nodes rather than being wired, so the warriors at one end of the vessel won’t be able to coordinate with the other end.  Do they even know they’ve been boarded?
“How?”

We enter the bridge after she kills a handful of other guards with ease.  They’re too shocked by her presence to act in time.  Once the door are sealed and she is working on the control systems she starts talking to me again.
“Well, you know, we do like to be prepared.”
“But you… you ripped his arm off.”
“Yeah, that was super satisfying.”  She looks at me appraisingly.  "Oh, come on.  Is it really that surprising?  You knew we were into changing ourselves, right?  Being strong enough to pop an overgrown bug’s forelimb off isn’t rocket science.“
"Your people are so peaceful…”
“Oh, sure, most of them.  But we did that, too.  Tweaked ourselves over the years to decrease aggression and some of our tribalistic tendencies, increase empathy… all stuff that can be undone if needed.  Though for a good cause even the nicest of us can squish a bug or two.”
“You bond with Ry'ling devourers!”
“Those are the big fuzzy guys that look like cats, yeah?  Those guys are adorable!  But… look, liking some things that could kill us doesn’t mean we’ll sit back and get enslaved.  We didn’t put up with it well when we enslaved each other, and we certainly aren’t going to go for it now that we’re… finally… on the same page about slavery being unacceptable.  It was, uh, a longer time than we like to admit before the last hold-outs were convinced of that one.”

I can feel the ship un-dock.  We’re moving.  "What about all the warriors on board?  They’ll break through the doors eventually!“
"Not according to this control panel here.  Take a look.”
It says there’s no atmosphere in the rest of the ship.  Life signs are negative on all but two of the warriors, presumably the only ones that got to their suits in time.  She disabled all the safety measures, somehow.  She just killed… I check the life signs readout again to confirm the number… three thousand, six hundred, and fourteen soldiers.  Wait, how is it tracking that unless… “Are communications back up?”
“Yeah, I’m calling some friends.  The military is right around the corner, so to speak.”
“But Earth doesn’t have a standing military.”
She laughs.  Not just a little bit.  She’s actually doubled over for a moment, unable to catch her breath.  "Sweet Jeebus, you guys actually fell for that?  No standing military.  Have you read about us at all?“

Three ships appear seemingly out of nowhere, and one docks with the Gaunvan vessel.  Once the atmosphere is restored we head to the airlock to meet them, and I’m surprised by an entire platoon of Gaunvan warriors.  Speaking English.
"Okay boys, send your last goodbyes!  This is in all likelihood a one way mission.  Commander Thorn!  It is an honor to see you again, and might I say you look exquisite drenched in the blood of your enemies!”
She bows to him, blushing, and then salutes the Gaunvans.  Or… humans?  Can they change themselves this drastically?
“You’ve got two holed up in here somewhere.  Bridge is clear, have the techs bring the new brain on board.”
“New brain?”
She looks at me like she’s forgotten that I’m here, and then turns back to the others.  "Men, this is our new friend Ix Malasan who has just been liberated from his captivity.  He’s going to be helping with our intel.  Malasan, yeah, a new brain for the ship.  Once this vessel is cleaned up and back in service with a new crew we’ll be able to take it over whenever we want even if all of our boys get killed.  We cooked up a really sadistic AI for it.“
"But how do you know the protocols?  This was your first contact with the Gaunvans, they’ve never lost a ship anywhere near here!”
“No?  There wasn’t a mining colony disaster two years ago?”
“But that was just an accident… and you weren’t even involved in the war yet… and…”

The faux-Gaunvans have finished boarding.  The one that was talking to them before puts a bladed claw on ambassador - commander - Thorn’s shoulder.  "You coming with?“
"Naw.  Orders said I could only come if they allow ambassadors near extremely high value targets.  Malasan here says they don’t, so I need to wait for my next mission back on Earth.”
“It would have been nice having you with us, Thorn.  Well, maybe we’ll see each other again.  Suicide mission or not, I think I’ve decided to live through it.”
“Bold choice,” she says, and kisses him next to his lower mandibles.
He nods at me, then turns back to his men. “Okay everyone, we are now officially on the job.  And what is that job?”
In unison, they start chanting.

“FUCK! SHIT! UP!  FUCK! SHIT! UP!  FUCK! SHIT! UP!”

For a moment I nearly feel pity for the Gaunvans.  Nearly.  Commander Thorn leads me off of the ship, and I start thinking about what useful information I can provide the ‘harmless’ humans.  Fuck shit up, indeed.

8

i’m trying not to miss you, but then everything i do is still about you even when it’s not about you. i told myself that the toothpaste only reminds me of you until i get a new flavor. i held myself underwater. even showers have you hidden in them. i think of how your music sounded through my bathroom door while you sang along, how it felt on those lazy days we did nothing but barely get dressed and watch movies. we ate a lot of ramen but it felt like we were professional chefs. everything is better when it’s full of laughter. i’m telling myself i’ll get that back. i’m telling myself to stop obsessing. i tell myself to buy new toothpaste. i somehow never seem to remember.

Davai! (Or why Otayuri actually wins the world)


(Tweets by @Aki_the_Geek)

I’ve been thinking a lot about this comment of Kubo-sensei’s. It’s just the most adorable thing I have read in a while. I am not the biggest Otayuri fan, but only mostly because they’re seriously too young for me at this point. I do like their tandem, however, and I am enjoying the attention they are getting recently with the official photos and everything.

This comment, though, just paints such a cute picture for me: Otabek as a god of victory, like a mystical butterfly who ignores and flits past everyone else but chooses to rest on one particular mortal’s shoulder and bless him with strength and victory.

Listen, this is what is great about what Kubo-sensei said. Yuuri Katsuki has the gold rings that connect him to Viktor as his lucky charm - we know this. BUT! Yuri Plisetsky’s lucky charm, on the other hand, is Otabek Altin.

Yuri’s a great character. He is an angry teenager, but also a talented one who has big dreams and the actual skills to achieve those dreams. From the very beginning, we know this. It was even a point he has above Yuuri Katsuki.

He aims to win and does not see what others might consider obstacles. So what if it will be his first Grand Prix? He’s awesome. He won the juniors series. He can win as a senior, too.

Yuri, however, is also very immature. He is pretty poor at expressing himself and seems to shortcut through having to process most personal encounters and interactions by just being angry all the time. Affection for others embarrasses him, which is why he gets so high-strung around Viktor and Yuuri.

(I can’t really blame the kid, though. Those two just have no chill. They’re embarrassing.)

Interestingly though, Yuri seemed to calm down after Otabek came in the picture. It’s a complete 180. Yuri still had that passion, but somehow it became more tempered, less angry and more focused - so much so that the moment Otabek came in, Yuri broke a world record and then proceeded to win his first Grand Prix Final.

I am not saying that it is Otabek’s doing, like an actual god of victory. That would be ridiculous, and it’s more an expression than anything else. The timing is just pretty neat, and isn’t that how people develop lucky charms in the first place? You happen to have them right at the moment of a great win. It is also not as if Otabek was completely useless. He did provide a friend to Yuri, who thus far had been going on without someone he can actually call a friend. Everyone around him were either older than him, a competitor, a mentor or a teacher. I think Otabek calmed Yuri down by reminding him that he can just be himself… well, a cool version of himself anyway. Yuri actually sort of acted his age with Otabek around. For instance, this?

I thought Yuri was kind of cool-guy-posing here - you know, acting chill, even looks kind of smug. Lol, this reminded me so much of my younger brother when he was about Yuri’s age. He was such a useless brat at home and was pissed off at everything and nothing 99% of the time, but the moment his friends came over or one of them called him on the phone, he sort of became this cool version of himself - wittier, sharper, less fidgety. Lmao, his voice even became deeper. Smh at these boys…

What I also love about Otabek’s character is that he reminds us of Yuri’s name. Names are a big deal, okay, and I thought that Yuri being Yurio was kind of like him being a secondary character to Yuuri Katsuki - Yuuri #2, if you will. Ever since episode 2, Yuri is Yurio, and for every episode hence, he is Yurio. It was actually a bit of a shock to me when Otabek yelled this out in episode 11:

I was literally, “Oh yeah, that’s Yurio’s name.” I know Yakov and Lilia call Yurio by his name, but somehow it was when Otabek was calling him by this did Yurio become Yuri to me again. My theory is that it is Otabek’s manner, this I-know-you-call-him-Yurio-and-I-don’t-care-because-his-name-is-Yuri attitude he has going, that is somehow more convincing than anyone else. It is as if no one else matters in his world than Yuri Plisetsky. It is ridiculous to call him by anything other than his name because to Otabek, Yuri is Yuri #1. He probably calls Yuuri “the other Yuri”, “the Japanese Yuri” or just plain “Katsuki”.

So yeah, Otabek enters Yuri’s life and now Yuri has that source of affirmation that is outside family, who is a peer and even a close contemporary. He is no longer fighting alone. Yuri’s a strong guy, but he is still a kid, and at that age people can be quite vulnerable. No 15-year-old is so self-sufficient and self-confident that they can stand on their own at all times - at least not to my knowledge. That is why I love this friendship and why I love that Otabek came along. I think his coming triggered something that Yuri has long been building throughout the series but has yet to stabilize - his strength, his growth, his maturity as a skater as well as a person.

And actually, Yuri did win in the end. I think the series did not celebrate Yuri’s win enough and admittedly, even I was on such a high during those last weeks of the show that I could not be happy for him all that much. Episode 11? I couldn’t get over Yuri’s world record; I did not want to see Viktor dethroned. By episode 12, I still couldn’t look Yuri in the face. I was bitter about his world record and I was bitter about Yuuri Katsuki not winning the Grand Prix.

BUT, it’s time to face it: Yuri Plisetsky is amazing. He won the GPF on his senior debut. He beat a world record. His coach is obviously grooming him to be the next Viktor Nikiforov, and actually, the series has been hinting at it before hitting us on the face with it in episode 11 - Yuuri Katsuki is not the next Viktor Nikiforov, but Yuri Plisetsky is. What is more amazing is that he might even surpass Viktor, especially with Yuuri Katsuki as his main rival. Viktor never really had that one rival to push him up further than he thinks he can. We are told that his wins had wide margins from his other competitors. Viktor only had himself to beat each and every time. Yuri, on the other hand, won by a hair’s width and he knows it. He is even more driven now. He will push himself harder than Viktor ever had pushed himself, and that just might tip the scale a little bit more to future Yuri’s favor.

As for Otabek? Nah, he actually does not need to do anything. He is a lucky charm; he just needs to exist. With him around, Yuri is stable, and that’s all that this talented monster skater needs really.

Lol, look at this guy just watching his favorite so proudly:

“I’m not really needed here, but fuck if I’m not staying put to watch and join the cheering.”

Otayuri actually has a lot more going for them, future-wise. They are young, they are talented, and where Viktor and Yuuri are still struggling and see-sawing between victories and losses, Otayuri actually kept a steady climb. We already know and mentioned Yuri’s wins, but Otabek was also actually that steady character from the very beginning who skated well without question and was even the first to qualify for the GPF.

So, yes. In case you are asking, Otayuri is, in fact, the real power couple of the show.

Lmao, TL;DR - Otayuri just trumped Viktuuri and ultimately even stole their gold. The secondary OTP lowkey just beat the main OTP and I, albeit a hardcore Viktuuri shipper and just an Otayuri bystander at best, still find that really hilarious.

anonymous asked:

Random reminder that I remember you.

Nonnie, listen, I know this was meant as a message for me but I can’t help but think about Stiles being forgotten by everyone. Everyone except Derek who called Scott after a nightmare to check up on everyone and is more than a little concerned to be met with who? when he finally plucks up the courage to ask how Stiles is. 

And so, somehow, he finds a way to send messages to Stiles in that dark, lonely place. He doesn’t actually know he’s sending them but when he dreams, he dreams of Stiles. Sees him, trapped and scared and vulnerable - although he can never reach him, no matter how fast he runs. Instead, he pictures himself writing messages on walls, on the inside of books, on discarded pieces of paper; all in the hopes Stiles might see them. 

All the same message: I remember you.

Stiles begins to see them everywhere. They give him hope, hope he’s not lost. Hope that he’s not so easily forgotten as he had always feared, even before he fell down this rabbit hole. And yeah, he doesn’t know it’s Derek. Maybe it’s a trick, or maybe it’s his dad or Scott, but there is something, something, he can feel; something that boils his blood and soothes it in the same breath, and it reminds him so badly of Derek that he shakes with it, remembering the day Derek left. Remembering that night, when Derek slid through his bedroom window, still not gone (knocking first, Stiles noted fondly at the time) and hugged him. Just….hugged him. Tight.

Then, one night, Stiles catches the words being written on a door. He runs to it, tries desperately to grab the phantom hand writing as it goes along but he can’t and he wants to scream because the hand is warm but he can’t touch it, can’t even really feel it, but it’s there and it’s real and when he starts to cry, pushing his head against the door, the hand lingers long after it’s finished writing. 

Meanwhile, back in his old loft, Derek dreams of the boy he reluctantly came to care about; tries to hold him - can’t see him or feel him but he can smell him. Stiles’ scent calls to him in a way not even Cora’s does, in a way Laura’s never did. It’s only then Derek realises, waking with a jolt, that Stiles isn’t just his anchor; isn’t just some endearing asshole who confuses him to no end, who makes him want to bare his teeth and throat at the same time, but something more.

And there, lying in his old bed covered in sweat and regret after regret, feeling utterly helpless, Derek whines for his mate.  

Find You (Part 1)

Summary: Bucky has moved into a new apartment, not knowing that its previous tenant thinks they still live there. And he’s the only one that can see them. 

Word Count: 1,673

Warnings: Talk of a car accident. Coma.

A/N: This fic has been in my documents, outlined, for the past year and a half. I hope you all enjoy it. It’s one of my favorite plot-lines EVER.

Originally posted by rohgers


The white-washed walls are the only barriers to muffle the woman’s sobs. She folds herself over the body of a young woman, barely in her early twenties and already battling to keep herself alive. The only sign of life in her is the ventilator, pumping artificial breath into her lungs, and the stable beeping of the heart monitor. The doctors hold hope in that she’ll wake up, there seems to be no brain damage, nothing seems to be halting her from waking up. Yet she does not. And the wails continue day in and day out.

Keep reading

a thought on Bellarke

Sometimes I think about how soft Bellamy and Clarke will never get to be. Their softness, their innocence, their youth has been stolen from, in an even crueler way than it was from the rest of delinquents. In that way where their edges had to be hardened for them to lead, in the way where the weight of responsibility presses down on you until you’re as hard and sharp as a diamond. 

In another world, Clarke would have allowed herself compassion- she would have cared for people as a doctor, brought beauty into the world as a artist. Clarke was always destined to make the hard calls, yes; but they would have been about rationing medicine or when to operate or an intense vote on the council on the ark. She wouldn’t have to cut her own heart out of the equation to cut out someone else’s. The blood on her latex-clad hands wouldn’t seep into her soul. She would have been free to love and be loved in return and she would have two parents and a whole unbroken heart. 

Bellamy’s life never would have been easy, but there would have been a way, one day, for him to have a life where his love for people could always be rewarded; a positive, healthy, giving kind of love and devotion that doesn’t twist in his gut, that doesn’t inevitably turn into rage or revenge. He could have led a unit of the guard, and formed his own found family and given inspirational speeches without also knowing the scalding heat of a machine gun pumping bullets into bodies. He could have taught a classroom of boisterous children, without a mountain full of dead ones awaiting him in nightmares. His rash choices would lead to mouthing off to a councilman or getting in a fight with a rude boy at school, not bear the consequences of dozens of lives. In another world, Bellamy could hug and touch and love and be held and loved in return- in another world his vulnerability wouldn’t have to be rationed, or hidden, or protected and locked away. 

 And that’s the thing that makes Bellarke both devastating and beautiful to me. They didn’t have a choice in the hand they were dealt, and it’s not an easy life, and it’s not a fair life. They have both been broken down as people: their worst traits drawn out, their best tested to the limits of endurance. As individuals, they feel the weight - the loss - of what they were, of what they could have been. And they didn’t have a choice. But. But at least, in this life, they will never be alone. In this life, they can chose to be together. And, together, they can be whole. 

Together they find those shades of softness they thought had been wrung out of them; together they bare vulnerabilities in defiance of their circumstances, a quiet show of resistance to world that has turned them into monsters. They offer understanding unconditionally, they offer forgiveness for the unforgivable. They make apologies on behalf of the world to each other. They trade the will to live, to love, to press onward between them, taking turns carrying each other to the finish line. If you’re on that list I’m on that list. 

And they didn’t just fall from the sky into each other’s hearts - their love, their trust, their bond - is earned. They fell in love with each other’s ideals before they even liked each other; as that one article said - in the most idealistic way possible.

Bellamy fell in love with the hope and idealism Clarke had about humanity; he wanted to be what she saw in him, wanted to live in the world as she imagined it. He fell in love with a girl who through sheer force of will could bend the world to how she wanted it. He fell in love with her belief that there was a better way, that humanity could and should be good, that goodness can and will prevail. He fell in love with what she saw in him - never is Bellamy more whole than when he is looking at himself through her eyes.

And Clarke… Clarke fell in love with Bellamy’s heart. With the idea that someone’s heart could be both their weakness and their strength, their resilience, their courage. She was inspired by the intensity of his love for his sister - a love like nothing she’d ever seen, a love that changed the way she thought about love. She fell in love with his ability to reach straight into the hearts of people, with just a look, with just a word. She fell in love with his humanity - and with his ability to inspire it in others. And when she’s afraid she’s lost her own humanity, when she feels it slipping, he’s there. He’s there for her but also as living proof: that love doesn’t have to run out, that it doesn’t have to burn you down like fire to a candle. He reminds her that her humanity isn’t destined to be lost.

So after all that has been forced on them, and all that they’ve suffered - there is a measure of innocence, of softness that they will never regain, that they can never have. But what’s extraordinary - what makes Bellarke extraordinary to me - is how jealously and defiantly they have held on to that last measure of softness, of vulnerability, of humanity. They cling to it and share it between them and somehow, through that choice, they turn it into something more. Because when they are with each other, they are not only at their most vulnerable - they are at their strongest. They turn each other’s softness to strength, their compassion into determination. That kind of love transcends desire or declaration, definition or dismissal. And it’s damn well worth celebrating.

imagine surviving a zombie outbreak with jungkook.

Originally posted by donewithjeon

—obviously inspired by dead days.

  • the day they announced it a pandemic jungkook rushed home from school and waited for his parents to come home; they never did.
  • he’s among the first to realise if he wants help his best bet is to go out there and find it.
  • also he’s hopeless at rationing food, so he has to get moving soon.
  • having observed the undead from his window, jungkook knows he’ll have to kill to survive, and after seeing what they’re capable of he quickly comes to terms with that fact.
  • meaning his neighbour’s beagle somehow got out on day three, so on day four he drops his dad’s bowling ball from the balcony onto the head of the zombie that killed it.
  • and after his first kill spends the day dissociating and dry-heaving.
  • when over a week has passed he packs necessities and what little food he has left and straps on a few pieces of protective gear, left over from sports he’s played over the years, opting for maximum mobility.
  • those necessities include: all the wet wipes, antiperspirant, toothbrush, toothpaste, clean shirts, soap, first aid kit, his mother’s perfume.
  • jeon jungkook, nicest smelling boy in the entire zombie apocalypse.
  • because that’s how he clings to his humanity, to the remnants of civilisation: hygiene.
  • he’ll eat actual garbage but he’s gotta feel clean while doing it.
  • everyone’s got their Thing, and that’s his.
  • anyway after the chaos of that first week a deafening silence settles in the building you live in. so when you hear one of the doors to the stairwell open, you immediately rush to the peephole to see who’s stupid enough to venture into the stairwell.
  • of course it’s jungkook.
  • you go to the same school as jungkook, and while he may not know you, he has quite the reputation himself, as far as beating almost every sporting record he set his mind to goes, except archery.
  • when he passes by you call out to him through the door and the poor boy nearly shits himself. he’s still there though, when you open the door and tell him you know him from school.
  • you let him in and, much to your surprise, he seems to recognise you, he even gets your name right on the second try.
  • you’re in the same situation as him, all alone and beginning to lose hope that help would eventually come, you had even begun preparing to leave.
  • your dad had taken the bike to work that fateful morning one week ago and now you hold up his car-keys for jungkook to see, “can you drive?”
  • “i can try,” jungkook never got the chance to pass his test, but he’s your best bet, just as you’re his.
  • and that’s how you two end up more or less driving off into the sunset together, to survive another day.
  • “wait, was it you who dropped that bowling ball on mr. evans from 81b?”
  • you’re in charge of rations, because jungkook is not to be trusted around the food and he’s not too proud to admit it.
  • he deadass wants to go live in the mountains until all this has passed and you’re like ?? i’m not starving to death jeon forget it.
  • you constantly have to remind him he’s not bear grylls.
  • which isn’t easy because he’s somehow got eagle scout level survivor skills despite only having been camping like once when he was five.
  • and honES TL Y the legs on this boy, good luck keeping up with him it’d be quicker if he carried you everywhere.
  • on that note he carries you on his back whenever you’re tired or injured.
  • and he still finds time to be childish and playful. 
  • there’s a tree in your path? you bet he’s gonna fucking climb it. passing an abandoned playground? before you can blink he’s on the jungle gym like “look at me!!!!!!”
  • will insists he’s “scouting.”
  • and it’s the little things that keep you sane. jungkook wanted to be a singer and when he feels safe has a tendency to hum and sing to himself.
  • insists he needs less sleep than you so he always takes first watch, and when you can’t sleep you coax him into singing for you.
  • just kinda vocalises his way through the lyrics he doesn’t remember, because he has no way of looking them up. and also through the sexual lyrics because welp awkward.
  • eventually you know his entire repertoire and can even make requests.
  • he exercises to stay awake. like, you wake up in the middle of the night because you think you heard a zombie groan but it’s just jungkook doing sit-ups next to you.
  • senses you stirring and starts muttering “hundred and six, hundred and seven, hundred and-” but let’s be real he only did like, eleven.
  • also otherwise doing press-ups whenever he finds a flat, uncluttered surface. where’s jeon ?? probably on the ground around here somewhere like “ah, this is tiring.”
  • and you’re like “how?? why?? you’ve only had a can of tuna to eat in two days, where do you even get the energy??”
  • “gotta stay in shape if i’m gonna keep saving your clumsy ass.”
  • he’s so apprehensive of the other survivors you cross paths with some of them genuinely thought he was mute.
  • until they try to separate the two of you because jungkook is not fucking having that no way do you wanna wrestle or what
  • imagine you get to shower for the first time in a while and jungkook insists you go first because he’ll just use all the water, so you suggest you just shower together and make the best of what little water you have.
  • can’t look you in the eyes for a while after that because he’s seen you naked now and you smell nicer than you have in weeks.
  • imagine huddling for warmth, and cuddling for comfort.
  • or patching him up after another close call.
  • you have to be the responsible one, the decisive one, but in return jungkook will be your rock, your protector, steadfast and strong, never cracking under pressure, not even the weight of the world ending can faze him when he has you to worry about.
  • it doesn’t take long for him to realise that he could never leave you behind. he’ll carry you to the literal end of the world if he has to, doesn’t matter if it kills him; he’s not facing the apocalypse without you.
  • after almost losing you once, he confesses that the way he sees it he has no reason to carry on without you. he lives and survives to protect you.
  • never whines that he’s hungry or tired, because he knows you are too. he might complain that his clothes smell, or that he hasn’t washed in a while, but whenever you ask if he’s alright the answer is always going to be that he’s “okay if you are.”
music

2. We were dancing but all of a sudden it’s a slow song and we’re standing here awkwardly staring at each other

This Winter Screw is going much better than the last.

For one thing, Bittle’s date isn’t throwing up on his shoes, which Jack understood happened last year. And right now Bittle appears to be dancing with his date, or something like it. Jack, having seen the way Bittle can dance at parties, knows he’s toning it way down. Even so, Bittle is fun to watch on the dance floor, how the light catches his hair and how his smile widens as he jerks his hips from side to side with a laugh. He just always looks like he’s having a great time.

It strikes Jack kind of funny that he’s decided this Screw is going well based entirely on how good of a time Bittle’s having. God knows it has nothing to do with himself and his own date. Camilla and Jack have a quiet understanding; she’s with her friends, he’s … here, watching his pal on the dance floor, with an already-drained clear plastic cup of water and strangely itchy fingers.

But Jack’s not the kind of guy who has an actively good time at these things – they’re okay, he’s okay. It’s guys like Bittle, who are capable of having amazing times or miserable ones, that Jack has to calibrate his experience by.

Keep reading

I am learning how to function without the weight of you over me like a
cloud
I am learning to watch my favorite films without thinking about how many times you’ve loved it more than me
I’m listening to my favorite genre
without remembering you introducing me,
My coffee is strong and black and even the way it drips reminds me you are drinking the same every morning.
Somehow it is a reminder that every time you called my lips perfect just to kiss them you were writing poems about someone else’s
The coffee stains my lips the same way your words did,
A constant reminder,
You go to my favorite record store,
You buy clothes at the same thrift shops I go to twice a month
It’s a miracle we never run into one another
I’m forgetting how the sound of your guitar was my guide and I’m
forgetting the sound of your voice,
How it could bring me back in a second.
I don’t look down in the shower when I can help it because my own body is a reminder
The rain is a reminder
Everything that was once about you I need to rewrite and
I must rewire my brain to not think of your eyes when the clouds part in winter
I always ask myself
How many ways can you phrase the same song?
Why am I writing this if its not about you?
—  Rinse and Repeat

I don’t know how many people remember this but there was this one line at the beginning of ACOTAR that really stood out to me the first time I was reading it. When Feyre’s talking about when her mom died and the promise she made she says:

“In our world where we’d forgotten the names of our gods, a promise was law; a promise was currency; a promise was your bond.” (pg. 16)

This is never brought up again in the rest of the book or in the entirety of ACOMAF but this might be part of the reason Feyre was so upset with Rhys when she found out about the mating bond. She’s grown up with this belief that a promise was everything and if you broke it it was considered this huge betrayal.

“He’d-he’d promised not to lie, not to keep things from me.” (pg. 494)

“‘You promised-you promised no secrets, no games. You promised.’” (pg. 495)

Rhys told her that they wouldn’t keep secrets and everything and considering that he kept this huge secret from her, while his intentions were good, I think Feyre definitely had a right to be upset and not see it that way. I also think her reaction had to do with Tamlin. During the scene where Feyre’s confronting Rhys about the bond there’s a lot of internal dialogue on top of the things actually being said out loud.

“Something in my chest was caving in on itself. Some part I’d thought long gone.” (pg. 495)

“'I don’t want to hear this. I don’t want to hear you explain how you assumed you knew what was best, that I couldn’t handle it-’

'I didn’t do that—’

'I don’t want to hear you tell me that you decided I was to be kept in the dark while your friends knew, while you all decided what was right for me-’” (pg. 496)

“And I saw the pain and sorrow I his eyes. Saw it and didn’t care, not as that thing in my chest was twisting and breaking. Not as my heart—my heart—ached, so viciously that I realized it’d somehow been repaired in these past few months. Repaired by him. And now it hurt.” (pg. 496)

I think it’s pretty clear the whole situation was reminding her of what it felt like when she was with Tamlin and people were making decisions for her again. Of course we know it was actually the opposite of that with Rhys, he was trying to make sure she made the choice herself to be with him, but it makes sense that Feyre would see it that way. It hadn’t really been that long since she’d left Tamlin and all the pain was still there, even if she was healing it was still very much there and this was kind of opening that back up again and bringing back those memories. As sad as it is that she didn’t react well to the mating bond it’s understandable. I know people wanna hate on her for it but just looking at it from her perspective it does make sense that she would feel like that.

Downfall

Originally posted by harryforvogue

A/N: This was a little bit too cheesy for my liking, but it was something that was always in the back of my mind.  Let me know what you think!

You breathed in the wet air as you stood on the porch. Leaning slightly on the railing, you closed your eyes and listened to the pitter-patter of the rain. It was enchanting somehow. The way each drop created a tune of its own as the soothing melody coursed through your body, replacing all your worries with neutral thought.

You jumped when a pair of tattooed arms wrapped around your waist followed by a swift kiss to your hair. You relaxed into the lean body sighing at the warmth you didn’t know you craved.

“Whatcha’ yeh doin’ out here, pet,” Harry mumbled, hand rising to rub the sleep from his eyes.

Keep reading