sorry really not sorry right now

Losers Club as things said throughout my day

Stan: I’m not even THAT big into the muppets I just thought it’d be a good idea!!


Eddie: *tries grabbing a tiny toy out of Richie’s hand* I wanted that! (Richie: it’s literally IN MY HAND!) OH MY GOD Richard you’re being SO fake right now!


Richie: *wearing a plastic king crown in the middle of Party City* I really want this crown, not for Halloween but just cuz I deserve it.


Mike: *singing* Emojiiii cups


Ben: *singing to the tune of You’re Welcome from Moana* What can I say except you’re salty! Because I didn’t download Netflix! Hey! You’re salty, you’re salty!


Bill: *wakes up wearing no shirt and bunny ears on his head* Okay what the fuck?


Bev: have you ever heard the song Sorry not Sorry by Demi Lovato? Because yeah…

6

persona 5 wallpapers - requested by anon

2

Elle Woods is just like “I don’t need a back up, I’m going to Harvard” and she fucking works her ass off and does it?? Like people tell her she can’t do it or not to and she just smiles and says “I’m going to Harvard” like she is never deterred and tbh I am now taking that stance in life whenever I get discouraged or something I’m just going to smile and say “I’m doing this”

some people make me feel so worthless, it hurts sometimes, I just wish to sleep for over a week without dealing with anything.

I’m angry. I have been, for weeks now.

I didn’t want to make a post or say anything because I don’t think enough people will notice or care. But fuck that, because I’ve got something to say.

I’m a fanfic writer for Haikyuu, I’ve been one for over a year; going on two. I’ve written 50 fics for this fandom, and I’ve been posting one fic or chapter update every week since the beginning of this year.

I write because I love writing, because I have a lot of ideas, and because I love the characters. I post my work because I think other people might enjoy my work, too.

But I’m also sick of it.

I’m sick of spending all my free time on writing only to get ten notes max on my fics on tumblr. Which, you know - it might just be that people don’t like my work. But it’s not just me.
I’ve participated in events, and if you look at the pages for any fandom-related project that includes artists and writers, I can assure you that you’ll always find the same thing: art with over a thousand notes per pic, and fics with less than twenty.

Don’t get me wrong. I love the art that people are creating in the fandom, just as much as the next person. I buy every zine I can get my hands on. I commission artists when I can.

Recently, I commissioned a writer. I didn’t even know that was a thing until a couple months ago, and even then, I’ve seen writers offer 1k words or more for as little as 3$. Are you fucking kidding me. I paid 25$ for 4k and I wish I could have tipped more.

I guess what I’m saying is that I’m done with this.

I’ve been thinking every single day for the last three weeks that I want to just say I’m not going to be writing anymore. Because I’ve got no more energy for this. I’ve got enough other shit going on, and constantly being angry about how writers are treated is not helping, and it’s not something I can turn off. Every day I’ve been thinking “you should just go. For your sake. Stop this shit.”

I can’t do that. When I finally reached that point, and made the decision today that I’d stop, I’m done, I’m out - I immediately felt AWFUL. I love writing, and I love the friends I’ve made through it. I get really sweet and supportive comments sometimes. I feel like my work has maybe impacted a handful of people.

But I hate this. I hate the way the fandom treats us. I hate getting 1k hits and 2 comments. I hate getting 20 notes, only one of which is a reblog. Who’s going to see my work? No one. I hate it, and I don’t know what to do about it.

I guess that’s all. Expect a new fic from me next week, as always. Because as much as I hate it, I can’t leave. But I’m done pretending I’m not angry. Because I am.

7

Favorite relationships: Isak og Eskild
Where are you ↵
on my way home
I’m coming.

2

I love how Jon repeats what Damian said to him in the second panel. Even though he bickers with him and they fight a lot, Jon does listen to what Damian says and takes his words to heart. I love that about their relationship. They act like they don’t get along but in the end, there is this kind of grudging respect between the two of them. It’s great and I honestly can’t wait for them to become real friends.

Secrets of Slytherin no.72

Our masks do not slip often, but when they do, it’s best to asume it’s a lot worse than it seems. You see a ripple, not the tidal wave behind it.

Malfoys don’t get sick 🤒

“I am not sick. Malfoys do not get sick!”

Harry gave Draco a skeptical look as the blond blew his nose for the seventh time since he had entered the room five minutes ago.

“Right,” Harry said, clicking his tongue.

“I am not sick,” Draco growled. He turned his back to Harry and made his way to the sofa, plopping down on it.

“Draco, there is no shame in being sick.”

“I am not- not- Achoo!”

Harry handed Draco another tissue before sitting down next to him. He lifted his hand and gently put it on Draco’s forehead.

“Oh, you’re burning up.”

“I’m not,” Draco said, pushing Harry’s hand away. “Besides, I feel cold.”

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You’re obviously running a fever. Maybe I should call Hermione. I’m sure she could cure you of-”

“I don’t need her. I don’t need anything,” Draco interrupted him. “I am perfectly fi- fi- Achoo!”

Harry let out a sigh and shook his head.

“At least lie down and rest for a bit?”

Draco gave him a dark look that didn’t last for long.

“Well… I am a little tired.”

“Alright then,” Harry said, making room for Draco to lie down. He summoned two blankets from their bedroom and tucked his boyfriend in.

“There,” Harry said soothingly. “Sleep it off, okay?” He stroked Draco’s hair who nodded weakly before his eyelids fluttered shut.

After making sure Draco was fast asleep, Harry went into the kitchen to prepare something for Draco to eat when he woke up. He knew just what to do.

Two hours later, when Harry went back to the living room, a vase and several books were floating in mid-air, right above Draco’s head. Harry quickly set the tray of steaming porridge he was holding down on the table and got out his wand. He sent the vase and the books back to the shelf and kneeled down beside Draco.

“I think you’re magic is going a bit bonkers,” he murmured. Draco cracked open an eye and smiled dazedly at Harry.

“Hey,” he croaked.

“Hey.” Harry stroked his hair again and seated himself on the edge of the couch. “Are you hungry?”

“Ugh!” Draco weakly shook his head and scrunched up his nose.

“Come on, it’s Molly’s secret porridge recipe. Here.” Harry summoned the tray and placed it on his lap. “I’ll feed you.”

“I’m not letting you feed me porridge,” Draco said, his face twisting in disgust.

“Is it the porridge you’re opposed to or me feeding it to you?”

Draco didn’t answer but clutched the corners of the blankets tighter around him.

“Come on, you have to eat something. And you’re shivering so much, I think you will drop the spoon as soon as I hand it to you. Let me feed you.” Harry held out the spoon in front of Draco’s mouth with no sign of cooperation from his boyfriend. “Draco, come on. Just let me feed you. You know, it would be kind of cute, too.”

“Cute,” Draco repeated, a disgusted look on his face.

“Yeah. Now that I think about it, it’s nice to have someone I can take care of.”

Draco seemed to ponder this for a moment before hesitantly opening his mouth and accepting the spoonful of porridge.

“What else would that entail? You taking care of… me?”

Harry’s face split into a grin as he offered Draco more porridge.

“Well, I guess that would depend.”

“Depend on what?” Draco asked, slowly taking another bite.

“On the circumstances. For example, if you were sick, I’d definitely want to keep cooking for you. And after you finished eating we could go upstairs and I could hold you and warm you until you stopped shivering. We could take a hot bath together. I’d make you some tea, get your favourite biscuits and I could give you a massage if you feel like it. But since you’re not sick…” Harry peered at his boyfriend from under his lashes and held back a snicker.

“Well,” Draco began quietly. “Maybe… Maybe I am a little sick.”

“Sure, just a little,” Harry laughed, putting the porridge aside and gently pulled Draco into his arms.