the names i have for photos sometimes

Having your first child with Tom Holland:
  • Tom being really nervous when he found out, but he was overjoyed at the thought of being a dad
  • Coming up with names for the baby, even before you both knew the gender
  • “If she’s a girl, I like Phoebe, but if he’s a boy I vote Peter”
  • “Of course you do”
  • He’d love to lay next to you and talk to your growing stomach, sometimes he’d even plant kisses on it
  • Taking a bunch of photos because he wants to show his baby them one day
  • Both being ecstatic for ultra sounds and Tom and you both get emotional (Lots and lots of tears)
  • “She kicked again Tom!”
  • Tom rubbing your feet whenever you complain about them being sore
  • Showing his parents the ultrasound photos over and over, he’s just really proud
  • “I can’t wait to make our child wear little Spider-Man Suits”
  • “For gods sake Tom”
  • Both of you having your moments where you worry you won’t be good parents but quickly reassuring each other
  • Sometimes you’ll fall asleep while watching a movie with Tom and you’ll wake up and out of habit he’ll just be rubbing your bump
  • “Hopefully she gets your accent”
  • Having your little girl was most likely your proudest moment. Tom held your hand through the whole thing and was so supportive
  • Him being an overprotective dad, you found it adorable
  • He convinced you to buy her mini Spider-Man suits, the fans went crazy over it
  • Your daughter growing up to be such a daddy’s girl

anonymous asked:

I very much appreciate your taking the time and effort on the in-depth analysis of SOTT. I do have a question about it. You ended the main section with this: "How does he rescue himself and others?... Musically, of course...Harry Styles has hung out his Sign." Can you clarify or expand on that a bit? I guess I was hoping for something more positive and hopeful of a definitive end to all the fuckery. Do you see anything like that for our boys, or (1 of 2)

(2 of 2) is it pretty much a lost cause and they’re all going to be stuck in a hellish round-a-bout of bullshit for the forseeable future?


I didn’t mean to imply that he hung out a Sign as in: “from here on it’s all Holo forever.” I’m sorry if it came across that way.

What I meant was that this song was Harry delivering the goods. “You want Holo? You got Holo.” And the messenger was the message– the meaning of the song itself explained how it was birthed, with a lot of pain, lies, confusion, forced separation.

I totally do not think this will last.

What I’ve seen for the last few days is:

- Liam and Niall tweeting congrats to Harry; Louis did not
- Harry unable to mention Louis’s name in interviews
- Liam tweeting a strange message– glad you’re getting to do your stuff. Because Liam can’t?
- H and L releasing public pap and stalker photos showing they are in separate locations/ continents

Why do they have to go this hard? Why are they always linked? If there’s nothing going on, why can’t there be normal congratulations, well done H, let’s catch up sometime?

It tells me that things are not normal right now, but the narrative is being pushed hard. We were hoping for change in April, but obviously it didn’t come. I think the hard push has to do with nothing getting in the way of a successful Holo launch.

Why would Louis agree to go along with it? If they’re not together, why would Louis care that Harry launches successfully, and go to such lengths?

Because they ARE together. Always. You.

And if Harry can write this kind of music, doing what he has to do to protect Louis, and Louis has to do what he has to do to protect Harry, and still make music, then they’re managing. We want them to be “free,” but that doesn’t necessarily mean what we imagine: free to come out as a couple, free to conduct business without restrictions.

I have to believe that they know how to manage their own careers better than we do. They have access to lawyers. They know things we don’t know. Both are amazingly smart and have planned their lives accordingly. It will end. Already almost no one in the media (thanks Sirius XM assholes) mentions Louis’ having a son, and he doesn’t even pretend to care anymore. And Harry gives no shits about deflecting questions he doesn’t want to answer.

All four boys are set to release music this quarter. It is ending, bit by bit. It will end.

Gaiden Arc Episode 23 Review

At first, I was going to do the whole entire arc, but Tumblr was acting up and I just really loved episode 23 out of the whole entire Gaiden episodes so I’ll just talk about that.

Sakura holding her own with a guy who has dozens of Sharingans??? Okay, haters need to stop. Sakura isn’t useless and this episode definitely proved that. I think the family picture wasn’t included because they put so much into the fight scenes, which is expected, Boruto, although watched by tons of females is still at the end of the day, a Shounen anime

I also loved it when she said, “I won’t let you go after my husband and my daughter anymore!”  Yes, Sakura this is how you protect your family, just yes this is so precious.

And Sarada is so overprotective of her family, that fact really distinguishes her personality, she’s so mature to know the value of family at such a young age so much better than the other Next Gen kids, some people who dislike Sarada call her arrogant, which she was in Chapter 700 back when she was younger, but she’s no longer that way. Not to mention they also got mad at her for crying because she thought that her mother was  Karin. Which is actually pretty reasonable to cry over.

But can we just appreciate how overprotective she is over her own parents, you’d expect it to be the other way around, but no, and that’s amazing:

And how Sasuke managed to remain calm the whole time, but got pissed when his wife had those knives got lodged in Sakura’s arm and then how Sarada stopped him by screaming, it made me remember that time with the curse mark and when Sakura stopped him from killing that guy.

I also hate how people got mad at the fact that Sasuke didn’t kiss her or anything, this is Sasuke’s way of teasing Sakura, just because ya’ll don’t understand it, don’t try to twist it and ruin it for others, Sakura isn’t still that Sasuke fangirl she was at twelve years old, she prioritized Sarada over Sasuke. Which people still got pissed about after complaining about how she’s too obsessed with Sasuke? Jesus Christ, you can never satisfy this half of the fandom

Anyway, she looks so beautiful in this frame and in her dress:


But I really loved the last part, when Sarada tells Boruto she wants to become Hokage and Boruto gets mad, this could be for multiple reasons, and being a hardcore BoruSara shipper of course I’m thinking about all the cute ones.

And tears were already welling up in my eyes, but when I saw the ending credits I couldn’t hold it in anymore this was literally the best thing they could’ve done, sure Perriot Studio messes up sometimes, but they have their good moments.


(Gifs and photos all came from here, I’m not too good at detecting names/initials but I’m pretty sure they’re visible somewhere. As always, if you disagree with me come correctly or don’t come at all otherwise your comment or reblog will be deleted)

sometimes I have this weird moment of realization that people in stock photos are real people. They have names and families and friends. They have their own personal life and job. I hope cyber woman holding corn is having a good day.

Never Forget

I live a 10 minute walk from a huge graveyard in St Petersburg. I go there sometimes to think- it’s a quiet space in the middle of the suburbs, and is filled with trees and birds. About a year ago, I found this lady, and was immediately drawn to her photo. A Soviet woman dressed in a striped blazer and bowtie, with a defiant face. Her name is Irada. I’ve spent time looking for information about her, but can find none. I visit her now almost every month, and have seen a full set of seasons around her grave. In the spring, I planted tulips and watered them throughout summer. It’s winter that I love the most. When my Mum died, we sprinkled her ashes into a river and watched her being carried out to sea. Irada though stays. I am sure I’m the only person who visits her grave. Is it possible to remember somebody you have never met?

Four seconds



Prompt: chemistry between Matthew and the reader.


A/n: I want to dedicated it to @paradiselover-18 because I know she is in love with one-shots about Gubler


When someone lie his own lips above other ones, something changes in their relationship. Something lights up in their minds and immediately they understand if the things will turn the right way or the bad one.
It usually takes about four seconds to decide the destiny of the kiss and this story talks about these four seconds plus five years of friendships.

The same day you moved to Los Angeles you understood that it was the best decision you could take. The first evening you spent in that wonderful city, a tall blond man sat next to you at the table where you were drinking alone and when you explained him why ‘a beautiful girl like you was all alone in a bar’ he friendly started telling you which places you had to see and how good you’d been there. It all started that evening, with a failed flirt and a couple margaritas. You met your best friend that night.

Of course, Matthew initiate you to Criminal Minds and every time you watched an episode you started fangirling over him because you knew it’d made him laugh. Then you started visiting him over the set and when everyone started noticing your presence, it was difficult to explain them that you were just good friends.
It was a normal friendship that made you feel good, and so did Matthew because you finally found someone who really loved you, you took care of each other.

What do they usually say? The time runs really fast? Well, it is true because years already passed since that night. They were years full of nice and lovely memories.
You remember the photos you took when Matthew took you to Disneyland and the time where he took you to Las Vegas to meet his family. You were not together, ok, but it was important to him that the most important people in his life knew each other and you were really happy. Then, you remember the time he took you at the Awards when Criminal Minds was nominated as Best Drama Series. You wore a skinny yellow dress, which showed your best curves, with your black heels and when he see you for the first time in that outfit, you could bet that he was near to have an heart attack. Men…
But only if you knew why he looked at you that way that night, you’d changed your mind.

“I mean, look at her Shemar” Matthew whispered while you were talking to the other ladies “she is so beautiful! I bet that man behind her is gonna ask her out soon.”

“Are you jealous?” Shemar said smirking

“What? No! She is just my best friend, why would I be jealous?”

“Because you are crazy about that hot stuff, Pretty Ricky. Go and take her man.”

But that evening, he didn’t take you. Because he was not sure it was the best decision. Because he thought he was out of your league. Because you were just best friends.

Some days later you went for a walk on the beach and he was still thinking about what Shemar said that evening. He was right, he was crazy about you. Yeah, at the start in that bar he just wanted to flirt but he never imagined it’d turned out in these sort of feelings to him.

‘I kinda love her’ he thought when you touched his hand accidentally.
‘She is beautiful, ok, but everyone can be beautiful. But she is caring: when I have a bad day she always makes sure that I am ok and if it is not, she lies with me in bed until I fall asleep. She is kind: I have never seen her treats a person badly, even if sometime they deserved it. Then she is just… perfect to me.’

“Hey Matthew? Earth to Matthew Gray Gubler?”

He suddenly saw your big smile in front of him, then thinking that it was another reason why he liked you so much: you were able to make him smile just with your own act.

“What (y/n)?”

“This lovely girl asked you for a photo.”

Then the girl, who turned out as Katy, corrected you.

“I would like a photo with you too (y/n).” she said your name as you were famous too, because his fans always saw you together and since the moment you were part of his life, they wanted to know everything about you too.

“Sorry, with me?”

“Yes! Because when you two will get married I can say that I have a photo with the two lovebirds.”

“But we are not together.” you said smiling as a matter-of-fact.

“I bet you will be soon.”

But you didn’t want to disappoint her so, you took a picture of the three of you and when she left you, you looked at Matthew with an incredulously smile.

“After five years they still think that we will end up together. They are so cute.”

“But you are more.”

You smiled without saying nothing, and to take yourself out of the embarrassment, you took out your phone.

“You know, I always have fun reading your fans comments under our photos. Like, have you read this one? ‘Matthew, put a damn ring on (y/n)’s finger!!’, or maybe ‘You two are killing us! What are you waiting for to get together?’” and you went on for five minutes long, as Matthew laughed with you at his fans cuteness.

“Oh this is one of my favorite: ‘Matthew I swear that if you don’t kiss (y/n) right now, I’ll kill you. Make my day and kiss that girl for the love of God!’”

When you looked up from the screen, you could see his eyes looking at you deeply. He was not laughing at the comments anymore, he was just smiling. And while his eyes were dancing between your own ones and your lips, he licked his ones.

“Matthew what are you…”

He came nearest and nearest until you could feel his hot breath on your mouth.

“Can I… kiss you?”

“You can Matthew.”

He didn’t cut you off or anything. He just slowing positioned his soft, shaking lips above yours and stayed still for some seconds, then you dared to move.
Usually it takes four seconds to understand if a kiss is good or bad for a relationship, but you only decided in one.

Sometimes I wonder what have I done to deserve so much love and warmth. I am incredibly happy and lucky to have met a ray of sunshine who happens to be named Sílvia and who gives me hugs from the opposite side of this peninsula. You can follow her on Instagram, she’s @silviasodr there :-)

For the Family Au Deku is an adult woman, she smiles a lot but between being a mom and being the hero n1 is a lot of stress, and the media is not helping.  

Is a little self-conscious about his scars, she knows kacchan don’t mind them and he try to reassure her in his own way, still, Deku feels a little out of place when she wants to try a sexy underwear for his husbando

His son is a good kid but sometimes he misbehaves… 

As a family, they have the typical cups with labels. (yeah, those horrible/awkward things… I think those are kinda cute) 

Kacchan - “Angry dad” (B-day gift of his son, The cup had survived a lot)  

Deku has a Cup with a photo of her and her son when he was super adorable (3-4 years old) and a drawing he made on the other side (A horrible green drabble that’s supposed to be izuku, you can’t blame a 4 years old)  (Mother day gift, the Kindergarten gave it in name of his son, Izuku started crying in the moment she got the gift) (This is super detailed because is based on a family I know) 

And the little kid has a promotional Cup of a videogame that change of color with the heat (Is super cool! but embarrassing to show off) 

KENN finally gets his own Twitter! (2017.08.07)

Note: Even though KENN would previously tweet photos and updates from his agency’s Twitter, it was never technically his own (since especially in the early years they would have some announcements about their other artists too and sometimes his manager posted stuff too). But now he has his own account, so you can follow him here!!:

@dreamweaver_inc: Although this is sudden, I have an announcement!
I have a Twitter (account) under my own name KENN now!
Please take a look at it!!

@KKEENNNNUU: Because there were some misunderstandings at first about my name KENN, I wasn’t too sure about how to make it. (1)
Um, ummmm,
It- it’s really me!!

@KKEENNNNUU: Brazillian barbecue is really delicious

(1) It seems like KENN’s Twitter handle comes from the story about how his senpais always used to tease him about his stage name when he’d just debuted by putting a really weird accent on it like, “KennnnnNNUUUUUU!!!” lmao

anonymous asked:

Don't you think what Sana just did is highly problematic? How can we root for her now? I would have rooted for her had she asked Isak,convinced him to help her. But like this? Playing Isak's good heart and trust? Making a fool out of him? It's so... Sana isn't this kind of person, even if she's hurt and lonely and angry. And even if Isak or Even did something wrong to Elias (which isn't the case, probably, but still). It's too much. People are flawed, but they don't change personality A to Z.

hi love! yes, I do think that it was wrong of Sana to go snoop around on Isak’s laptop and read his private messages. Sana herself is not a fan of her own actions, you can see how conflicted she was when Isak told her she’s a good person. what she did was not right, but she didn’t do it to hurt Isak, she did it out of desperation. she did a mistake, but I don’t think you should stop rooting for her because of it. Isak made a big mistake in season 1, he broke his friend’s trust and for a pettier reason, yet we still root for him. we don’t know whether Sana will use the photos she took. Jamilla’s name has been popping up a lot lately, and we know that Sana leaking her private messages is what ultimately destroyed their friendship. I don’t think a straightforward revenge plotline is in store.

I know a lot of people would have wanted to see Sana confide in Isak and for them to take down Sara together, but personally I feel like they’re not quite there yet. I adore their friendship, but sometimes the fandom plays it up a little bit, I feel like. they aren’t that close, if you know what I mean? they talk about their issues without explicitly mentioning their issue. Isak was struggling with his sexuality and his relationship with his mum, and Sana did end up giving him the exact words he needed to reach out to his mum, but he never did say hey Sana so just so u know I’m gay and my mum’s super religious so can you maybe like I dunno write me a coming out speech where you explain this thing to her. it’s probably not easy for Sana to talk about this. she has been bullied before, and it’s such a difficult subject to bring up in a conversation, you carry so much shame and guilt. you feel like you have to survive on your own. hopefully she will soon realise that it doesn’t have to be that way.

Nothing 2

Title: Nothing 2 (Jimin)
Genre: Angst, Fluff
A/N: SO here it is! Scratch the two-part story because it’s four. Here’s the first part Nothing .Enjoy!

Originally posted by amsimaria

Jimin knew he fucked up. He thought that while both of you were cuddling up under a tree, observing the beautiful disaster of kids rowdily playing around the park.

 He heard you sigh contentedly. You looked so perfect under his arms. He inhaled sharply which made you look up at his eyes. You found him gawking at you, “Are you okay? Are you tired?”
Jimin’s heart shattered to pieces at the sight of you so concerned. He definitely fucked up.
He gave you a gummy smile, “No, jagi. It’s just that…you…are so…breathtaking.” He brushed his fingers on every edge of your face. You rolled your eyes and kissed him on the cheek.

“I love you, Jimin,” he could feel you smile against his cheek.

His heart shattered as he forced a smile, “I…I love you, too, Y/N.”

He hated himself for lying to you. He hated that it felt fine that he was hanging out with her because you know. He hated that he met her again just as how he had savoured every moment of it. He hated that he was hurting you without you knowing. Jimin was mentally stabbing himself.


You picked up the signs quickly. First, Jimin was nervously informing you that he made friends with her. It would be stupid of you to be mad at him for being very honest with you so you let go of the issue. Then, he started not really talking to you. Yes, he still took you to dates and called you every morning. But it wasn’t the same. It felt empty. His smile would be the brightest when he was on his phone. He was evasive with you.

Then there would be days where his smile would fade, every inch of happiness in him was gone. He was so sad and hopeless. He would cry on your shoulder as you received him.
“Why, Jimin? What happened?” concern in your voice.
“Her,” would be his only answer. You understood it. You were too in love, too captivated to push him back and scream, “Her?!”
You just sat there and cuddled him back to his normal self. You wanted one yourself. You wanted to cuddle you back to your normal self. To console you.

You nervously stared at your fingers. You were going to confront him. You were straightly sat on the couch, staring at the clock then at your phone. You didn’t want to fight with him.

You heard Jimin stumble against the door, you stood up with concern as you went to the door to see him there looking sickly. He had bags under his eyes, and he was pale in a sickly way–anyone could see that he was really tired and sleep deprived.

“J-Jimin?” your voice trembled. You were frozen.

He gave you a weak smile and raised his phone, “Sorry, Y/N. I didn’t want to text you about it. You would be worried sick and we’ll be sick together.”
You finally woke up and rushed up to him, helping him sit on the couch. You told him to wait there while you went to get warm water.

You hated yourself for thinking he wasn’t in love with you anymore. Guilt coursed through your blood. You went to get a fresh set of clothes and went back to him.

You worked on him, taking off his shoes, his socks, his shirt and jeans, replacing it with a warmer and comfortable set of clothes.

“Aren’t you going to ask what happened?” he quietly said as you wiped a damp cloth around his arms.

You sighed, “What happened?”

“I stayed out in the rain, Y/N,” he carefully looked at you.

You close your eyes. Who could he possibly stay out in the rain for? “Why, Jimin? Why would you do that? You didn’t even warm yourself up.”

“I-I did it for her…” he looked at you stop and stay in your position, waiting for him to elaborate. “I…she needed someone to accompany her and she didn’t bring an umbrella. Me neither.”

You stood, a little faster than you intended to, “Why?”

“I told you, she needed–”

“No. Why didn’t she take you in and give you warm water and do these,” your voice breaking at the thought of her taking care of you. “Why didn’t she take care of you?”

“I-I don’t know,” he was lying.

“Jimin, tell me the truth.” a tear trickled down to your face. You turned away from him.

“Because she was afraid we might you know…get close again,” Jimin whispered loud enough for you to hear. You could also feel his hope dampen. You figured out what had happened.

You bit your lip, “Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?” Jimin stood up, you could feel his breath on your neck.

“Why do you always have hope? Why do you always fall in love with her? Why can’t you face the truth?” you turned to look at him, “You’re so crazy for her, you know that? But she’s always leaving you broken and sick.”

“Y/N, I–” he wrapped his arms around you. You stiffened and yanked him away from you.

“I’m going to prepare the bed for you and your tea,” you said as you walked away, busying yourself. After that, you went to see him sitting on the couch, looking shocked, “I prepared the bed for you, also your medicine and tea. You ought to go to sleep now.”

He followed you to your room and you helped him on the bed. You stood up and started to leave when his hand grabbed your wrist, making your heart beat a little faster, your legs wobble a little.

“Where are you going?” he said.

You slowly removed his hand and softly said, “I’m going to study. Don’t worry, I’m not going to leave you.”

You couldn’t help but walk to him and hug him. He leaned in and kissed your lips. His kiss was deep and sweet and it sent you yearning for more. He pulled back, “Really?”

“Promise. I’ll never leave you. I love you too much to ever leave you, Park Jimin.” you kissed his cheek.

“I love you too, Y/N.” he said as you walked away with a smile on your face.

You hated falling for his charms over and over again but you couldn’t help it.


You were happily wrapping tiny Christmas presents when Jimin had texted you. He wanted to meet up at a cafe nearby. You were excited and giddy about this meeting. This was going to be your first Christmas as a couple. You happily skipped to the cafe.  You beamed when you opened the door. Jimin. There he was, looking handsome in his normal hair colour. You happily smiled and waved at him. He waved back and beckoned you to come and sit.

“How are you, jagi?” you hugged him and sat in front of him. You noticed he looked happier than usual. You smiled at this and wrapped your hands around the warm mug of hot chocolate.

“I’m fine, y/n. How was your day?” you hadn’t noticed that he looked nervous.
You told him about your Christmas shopping, telling him that you prepared gifts for him and his friends. You hadn’t noticed that he winced at this. Perhaps, your Christmas spirit made you blind enough to see these little movements. That’s when you stopped and noticed he was only half-listening.

Something is wrong.“J-jagi? Is there something you want to say?” you nervously put down your mug and looked at him.

“I-uh, Y/N, I want to tell you something,” he stupidly said. Stupid stupid stupid, Jimin mentally muttered to himself.

You arched an eyebrow.

“Y/N, you were so great and caring to me. And nothing will ever replace your love for me. But, um, I met her again and something inside us rekindled itself again. The burning sense of love. Of real love.”

Your throat was painful. You didn’t know if it was the hot choco or the words Jimin was feeding to you.

“She’s amazing and we missed each other and she truly loves me. Not that you didn’t really love me. I just felt like…”

“Like you were out of love,” I whispered. My throat was already burning, my head was floating and I wanted to get out of the cafe before erupting into a mess.

Jimin shifted uneasily on his seat and sadly went on, “Yes. And I think, I still love her. I also think that we should break up. Thank you for everything, Y/N. You were the best!”

“Okay.” you just said. you were suddenly exhausted. Your Christmas spirit was drained out of your system.

“Okay?” Jimin looked at you, “That’s it?”

“Yeah. I don’t want to fight. I’m already tired of always picking you up and comforting you,” you started to leave.

“Wow, so you’re leaving without any emotions?” Jimin’s voice sounded dangerous, “So, all this relationship we built was nothing to you. It’s just ‘okay’?”

You slapped him, “Park Jimin, don’t you dare tell me that I’m leaving without any emotions or that this was nothing to me. Can’t you see? I’m already broken and crumpled inside! I’m suffering and I’m tired. You were the one who ended it not me. You were the one who went to try his luck with his ex while using his girlfriend as a comforter. A tissue. You are the one who seems to not have seen anything in this relationship. What happened Jimin? What happened before the last five months?”

Jimin stared at you, unable to speak. He remembered the night he opened up to you about his heartbreak. The night where he had told himself that he would strangle the man who took you for granted.

“Why did you do this? Why ask me out when you weren’t really over her? Why? I’m so confused. You think I don’t notice how you space out, thinking about her? Or how you sometimes mutter her name during your sleep? Or her photo tucked inside your pockets? Or when you were really really drunk because of her? Even though you were in a relationship? Jimin, I’m tired of this. I’m a college student, a girlfriend, a friend, and a tissue. Can’t you see how exhausting it already is? Trying to keep up my grades, trying to be the perfect girlfriend for you, then trying to wipe away your heartbreak and pushing aside the pain I feel about you still in love with another girl.”

Jimin wanted to hug you. He wanted to say sorry repeatedly until he could also wipe away the pain. He wanted to comfort you. But he had already said he wanted to break up with you. He had lost all the privileges to ever touch even a single hair on your skin.

You found a box of unopened Kleenex inside your bag but instead of wiping your tears, you thrust it into Jimin’s hands.

“Here, here’s a box of tissue. I hope you will have enough since you won’t be seeing me for a really long time,” you softly said. You turned away and walked out of the cafe, holding everything inside.

You screamed in agony when you reached your apartment. You can’t believe you’re both done. You felt worthless. This was your first legit heartbreak. You were alone and it’s Christmas and your ex is probably cuddling with his girlfriend.

You sighed and called your professors.

The sun is setting on my last nude night in paradise. The hot spring baths at the Esalen Institue have been graced by some of the finest   spiritual, creative & scientific buttocks of our time all in the name of a religion of no religion. In the words of Ram Das, “be here now”, and if not now sometime soon minus pants. FYI photos are not permitted in the baths, however I got sent this pic from a trouble maker bather. 🌅😜✌🏼️#pantsareoverrated #esalen #esaleninstitute #religion #ramdas #hotspring #sunset

Kim Sung Kyu Mini Live x Fanmeet 2017 - Fancam Compilation

these are just going to be fancams of moments during the fanmeet i find extremely cute that have to be shared, including performances. 😢 i’m going to reblog this list every now and then when i find a new fancam to add to the list! most of them will be from twitter as i would share fancams separately in a post if they had been uploaded onto youtube. (credited names are based on user’s respective twitter/instagram usernames.) sometimes i may include multiple sources for the same thing he did on the same day due to different angles and/or quality of video!

170928 Tokyo (Day 1)

170929 Tokyo (Day 2)

171004 Osaka

Stepping Into Truth

I gulp two fingers of scotch, shoving the plastic bottle back into the backseat of my car, my hair still wet from a shower an hour ago that did something to counter the cigarettes I had this morning. I turned twenty one last week; most people would guess me for thirty. Helps that I don’t need to lie for the booze, doesn’t help the contents of my fridge at home. The drink helps with the cold, and stops my hands from shaking a little.

I hate my job. It’s the only thing I’m good at. I pull the old doctor’s handbag out of the passenger seat of my car, close the door carefully. Wouldn’t do for the door to fall off. Bad image. The client is waiting at the door to the home. Two storey house, basement, brown picket fence. Looks like the rest of a cookie-cutter street except the for sale sign is worn almost to nothing in contrast to sold signs down the street. Windows shuttered, lawn overgrown, and the client’s car is parked half a block away.

Moria Larsen is thin and stern, with eyes like scraped chalkboards and an expression to match But she paid the retainer fee up front and judging by her clothing can afford a bonus as well. Pretty much why I showered, that. From the look on her face, my effort doesn’t make much of an impact.

“You’re late, Mr. Dover.”


“I have been waiting outside for four minutes. You will go inside, do the deed, and that will be that.” She walks past me, giving me a berth. I probably should have shaved as well. Or not slept in my clothing. Moria moves swiftly, the haste perhaps overkill. She doesn’t want to be here, and definitely didn’t want to wait outside. Fair enough, given what happened here. Sometimes all ghosts do is make a wound that never closes.

I walk to the front door, take the key I was given yesterday. It turns in the door, and I push it open. The air smells stale. No lights, but I have a flashlight in my bag and flick it on. I have three others in my bag, some chalk, a few candles. Also a gun I’ve never used. The gun is pretty much for show: I’ve yet to run into a ghost that could be shot. But you never know.

The flashlight is cheap, but the beam is decent. I walk across carpet, scan the living room. The house is mostly furnished; finding a removal company to take everything away is hard after the press has poured over your life with combs meant only for gouging flesh. The gist had been that Moria’s husband left her a week before she had a business trip to attend. She left her son with a sitter. The baby sitter left with his boyfriend for a few hours and got in an accident so never made it back. And her son, at some point, fell down the basement stairs and died. Broken legs, desperate attempts to get out. Windows closed tightly and no one hearing him.

It doesn’t take much to make a ghost. Sometimes the rumour alone can do it. But it doesn’t take much to get rid of them as well: a strong will can do it, and that Moria hadn’t was interesting. I was the third exorcist she’d tried. Also the most expensive; dealing with the dead isn’t fun, and neither is putting them to rest. But the flashlight works, I don’t sense cold spots: not that I would, given my clothing is better suited to the summer and I don’t have much of it.

I shake myself free of the mundane. “Jamel? Jamel Larsen?” I wait. Sometimes they come to their names. Nothing moves, nothing flies toward me. Expensive living room furniture, the kitchen beyond is as sterile as a magazine photo. I head into the basement from the kitchen. One freezer, a pantry, the rest cement floors and unfinished wood walls. My flashlight doesn’t flicker. There are stains on the wooden stairs and the cement floor. The stars aren’t in good condition, the pantry door double-padlocked and the freezer the same. Odd, but I let it go and head back upstairs. The second floor has two bedrooms, bathroom, master bedroom with its own bathroom. I check the spare bedroom and master bedroom first, and then head to the room that belonged to Jamel.

The door opens. The room is plain, like the other bedrooms. White walls, beige carpet, no paintings. The bed covers have rocket ships on them, the only sign the room was used by a child at all.


There is an intake of breath, the closest thing to a cold spot yet. I move to the bed, look under it. The ghost is crowded against the wall, pale eyes and skin glowing faintly as he wheezed for air. He looks too scared to haunt anyone, but fear can be a strange master. He moves back against the wood, eyes wide. I move the flashlight slowly. Eight, the same age as when he died. I saw no pictures. Didn’t want to.

But this Jamel is still eight. Chubby, pale, scared. His legs look whole. I flick the flashlight off and stand.

“You want to talk?”

It is almost five minutes before the ghost crawls out from under the bed. I move back to avoid stepping through the ghost as he stands. He’s wearing a t-shirt that’s almost too small, jeans whose button can’t close and covers his belly. His cheeks flare red with a ghostly blush.

I sit down on the bed. After a bit, he sits beside me, not looking over.

“What happened to the other exorcists?” I ask.

“They tried to hurt me,” he whispers. “I scared them away. In the b-b-bbasement, I scared them.”

“You didn’t try and scare me?”

“I don’t like it. Being down there. It scares me.” I glance over. Jamel hugs himself, lets go quickly, refusing to look at me. “And you feel different,” he adds. “Like I couldn’t scare you.”

“Perhaps not. I had a few drinks earlier. That helps.”

“Moria sent you.”

“She was outside. Briefly. Was that why you were hiding?”

“Partly,” the ghost says. The bed creaks as he shifts position. Most ghosts that can move things tend to use it to harm others. I’m not sure he’s even aware of doing it.

“I am good at exorcising ghosts, but I don’t know what happens after that. No one does. I try not to, if I can avoid it. Knowing what happened here could help, if you can tell me.”

The ghost says nothing, his breath a thin wheezing.

“Your mother took to locking up the freezer and the pantry because she had a fat son. That much I can guess,” I say softly, and the ghost turns his head and nods once. “I don’t know when you fell. Or who caused it.”

“The baby sitter. Austin. Mom told him I wasn’t to – to get more fat. Everything would be better when she got home. Like a command. He – the fridge, I… was hungry, and I hate, and he thought mom would – mom would…”

“Hurt him?”

“Maybe? I don’t –.” Jamel is quiet for a bit, hands tight against his belly. He moves them apart when he realizes I’m looking at him. I just wait. “Austin pushed me. He didn’t mean to. I fell, my legs broke. He said it was because I was so fat, said he’d get help. He called his boyfriend. They were going to – to get a doctor they knew. A vet, maybe? Someone to help, and they never came back.”

“They had a car accident. And have left the city, as far as I know. Austin was in a coma for three days; I don’t know about his boyfriend. They were speeding, the police followed, they crashed. Some people think your mom killed you.”

“She – she – she –.” His voice cracks. The floor shakes a little bit.

“She did, without touching you. Shame is a weapon used against children.”

“She wanted me thin, Handsome, like my name. A p – a proper son.” The ghost stands. Swift, angry, though not at me. He pulls his t-shirt off.

The headline of ‘exorcist involved in ghost porn’ goes through my head. I don’t move; most ghosts can’t remove what they wear, in my experience, and I have no idea what might happen if I interrupt. Jamel has another shirt under it, a spandex affair that makes me wince at how tight it is. That his clothing is tied so deeply to his image says too many things.

“Mom wanted to make sure people don’t know I was this fat,” the ghost whispers unsteadily. “I have spandex pants, too, under my pants –.”

“I don’t need to see that,” I say quickly.

The ghost stares at me, and lets out a sound. “I… I didn’t…” He pulls the shirt back on, faster. His face is red, and the rest of him is pink as well.

“I’ve never been subjected to a ghost stripping before. That’s probably scarier than what I’d see in the basement,” I add dryly.

Jamel stares, then lets out a surprised giggle. “Your face was…. I think I surprised you?”

“Yes. I’d rather not be surprised like that again.” I stand. “I can help you, if you let me.”

He stands as well, not moving. I step through the ghost. Being possessed is painful; possessing a ghost even more so. But it takes a moment, and another, and I’m back onto the bed and shaking from the cold.

Jamel stares at me in confusion.

“Shirt,” I get out from between my teeth.

The ghost lets out a small gasp.

“You couldn’t access what you were; I jogged a few things loose.”

Jamel blinks. His shirt fits perfectly now, with no other shirt under it. His pants do as well, and his breathing is less of a wheeze as the ghost moves slowly about the room.  

“You can alter your appearance better. Move things, if you need to. And you’re no longer tied to this place.”

“What do I do?” he asks in a small voice.

“What you wish, but nothing that will lead to an exorcist being called. That’s our arrangement.”  

He nods. “I could talk to mom. I could explain, if that would – wouldn’t lead to –.” The ghost boy looks away from me. “It would.”

“Probably. Moria has demons enough of her own, I imagine.”

I have no idea if she does, but it helps him a little. He nods. “There is this shop I liked, a candy one….”

And the ghost vanishes a moment later. I let out a breath, take a few more minutes to gather myself, and walk outside. I tell Moria Larsen that it’s done and that she can go inside.

I walk away without waiting for payment, or to find out if she does.

“You surf, Will?”
“Yeah..I have a friend from my childhood, and we sometimes and meets and take a road together. He’s really cool.”
“What’s his name?”
“I don’t think you guys know him.”
“Are u sure?”
“Come on! Tell us!”
“Fine! He’s names is Lance McClain.”
“Jeez, Piper! Take it easy!”
“Sorry, but for real?! You know Lance?”
“You know who he is?”
“Yes! His my cousin!”

The demigods are at the beach after swimming with the sharks, and Piper finds out that he cousin are friend with her best friend.

Photo: Piper

(For you who don’t know: I’m a HUGE fan of Voltron, and I have always liked the idea of Lance and Piper being cousins. And, the people from Voltron may, or may not pop up here🤗)

Nameless memory

I was talking with @unxpctedlygreat about how we saw many photos of the Holts before they left, but none of the whole family together. And it’s not like no one could take their photo, since there were people in the background *couhgh*Keithand Shiro*couch*. So we bounced ideas, I asked if I could write them, and this fic came to be!

Pre-Kerberos. It’s kind of hinted kidge, but can also be seen as platonic only

The Holts were gathered not far from the shuttle, taking turn behind the camera. Half the family was leaving for space after all, so they all wanted some kind of memento for the long months to come. Katie didn’t know what to feel at this point, proud of her family, but dreading their time apart. As they were waiting for their latest Polaroid to be done, Colleen sighed.

“What’s wrong dear?” Sam asked, taking his wife’s hand and rubbing his thumb against her palm.

“It’s just too bad we won’t get to have a full family photo. Guess I’ll have to settle for the one with you three,” she smiled at him.

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anonymous asked:

Thanks for the prefall fic ! Could you please make a short continuation fic were 76 finds out his sister (reader) and McCree tied the knot shortly after overwatch disbanded and now have FIVE kids and is pregnant with the sixth bonus points if McCree is showing of pictures of his family to his old comrades and mentions he has two sons named after Jack and Gabe!

Part one

After the relaunch of Overwatch McCree was looking forward to seeing who would be returning to fight again. He missed the little family they all used to be, and now he had a family of his own to protect. The last person he was expecting to see was his estranged brother in law. 

“Jack?” He called out unsure if it was him or not. 

“Jesse,” Jack replied. 

McCree was shocked, but he was so happy. You had spent many nights lamenting the loss of the closeness he and you had. During those times McCree and then your kids were the rock you needed to keep you going. 

“It’s been too long,” McCree said giving Jack a firm pat on the back. 

Jack nodded in agreement. At this point, a few of the other old members had entered the room and were watching the two of them with interest. When it seemed like everyone was there McCree got everyone’s attention. 

“Now everyone look ‘ere. I’ve got some pictures I want to show y’all,” he mused. 

He pulled out his wallet and began to show everyone the many pictures he had of his family. While everyone else ooo’d and aww’d Jack stood off to the side seeming distant. He had left his old life behind and now he just wasn’t ready to come back to it. 

McCree noticed and pulled him close. 

“Jack look here. You see those two boys on the far left? The ones posing like two goofballs. The taller one’s name is Jack and the other is Gabe,” McCree explained. 

Jack looked on and felt tears start to prick his eyes. Upon seeing the photos he realized just how much he’s missed out on. 

“How many kids do the two of you have?” He asked McCree. 

“Five, but y/n’s pregnant with our sixth.”

Jack paused for a moment and let that sink in. He’s an uncle to five, soon to be six kids, and he hasn’t even met a single one. His own sister he hasn’t seen in years. 

“Can I come to visit sometime? Not for long, since I know it’s not safe,” Jack questioned. 

McCree gave a hearty laugh and slapped him on the back. 

“You can come anytime. I’ve got them living in a very safe community so you don’t even need to worry.”


With that, Jack began to work on finding out what each of the children was into so that when he did come to visit he didn’t arrive empty-handed.

naomi-campbell13-deactivated201  asked:

hiii, i was wondering if you could write about Y/n being famous too and she meets harry for the first time and he asks her out

I had a few requests for something where the girl is famous too, so here’s what I wrote. I decided to write it in first person and gave her a name.

Meeting Harry Styles

My sister had taken me to a One Direction concert. Neither of us were particularly huge fans, but I’ll admit I’d been known to sing along to a few of their songs on the radio. When she originally told me about the tickets I raised a brow, but ended up agreeing to join her, thinking it would be a fun night out with my sis. I’d recently wrapped up filming for my latest movie, and between that and press and promo for my previous film that was opening in a few weeks, we rarely got to spend time with each other anymore.

Halfway through the show, and a few beers later, Nora let the cat out of the bag. I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the sheer excitement from the crowd, but with her arm looped through mine she informed me she’d always had a crush on Niall. I giggled at her as I leaned my head on her shoulder, watching the four boys on stage. My eyes, however, were not focused on the Irish one, but rather the tall, long-haired one in jeans so tight you could practically see-

“Mia!” Nora shouted in my ear, interrupting my dirty thoughts. “Did you see that? Oh my God, he’s so cute! That smile!”

“Yeah,” I grinned. I knew she was referring to Niall, but I wasn’t.

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Pub Cats of Cambridge were something I largely ran out of time to investigate - the Live & Let Live was rumoured to have a pub cat so I made my way there. Turns out they welcome many neighbourhood cats, but none are permanent residents.

This splendid old chap is one of their regular visitors, cared for communally by a number of houses along the street. They did tell me his name, something very English like George, or Arthur. They were keen to know if I was @pubcats on Twitter, sadly not!

Anyway I got tips for a few other cats, and was shown some photos of the other visitors, so taken together with today’s news of a three-legged library cat, it looks like I’ll have to go to Cambridge again sometime soon!

Among the Pines

Chapter 5

Warning: Cussing (of course), little political rant, mentions of sexting and nude photos (mentions only, nothing graphic)

Word Count: 2900 ish (Yikes.)

A/N: You guys, I just don’t know.

Tags: @unprofessional-inhumanbeing

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six

Table of Contents 

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