I joined tumblr back in November 2012 because of CS and their beautiful journey that has just begun.
I remember tagging everything “emma x hook” because we didn’t come up with a name yet. I remember everyone analyzing the hell out of Tallahassee and giffing every second of it. I remember how we called each other “beans”.
I remember freaking out about 2x09 because someone posted these photos WEEKS before that episode aired
I remember analyzing pictures from set in which Hook was in docks with Cora and a swan and headcanoning it as cursed Emma (still… why the hell did they brought swans on set???).
I remember crying from joy because look at this gif! In this shot Emma is so close to Hook’s hook! almost like a….. FORESHADOWING??
I remember dying because they gave us hospital scene sneak peek from 2x12 (it happened on my birthday okay, my friend who came over was really scared, that’s how much I was freaking out)
I remember PaleyFest 2013. When the possibility of CS was mentioned for the first time out loud.
And dying again because
I remember how we had nothing for MONTHS. Only a 5 second long scene in 2x15 where Emma knocks Hook out and then talks with Neal about him.
But then the unthinkable happened. We were blessed with these photos from set!!! Memes were made! Hundreds of edits! And we all had to wait over a month for that episode to air!
You think that’d be enough to make us go crazy? Hah! You have no idea what happened after this
and then being dead after season 2 finale…
…and resurrected again because Comic Con happened. THIS happened
and then all the talk about CS being kindred spirits??? (x) (x) I MEAN….
That’s enough to kill us before s3 even starts right? NOPE. THIS HAPPENED.
AND THEN THE PROMO
AND LET’S NOT EVEN MENTION THIS
Anyway, my point is it all happened before The Kiss. Hell, before season 3 even started! We were called delusional so many times, I lost count. But we endured. We had to wait months for a little scene but we never gave up.
And look where we are now. CS are married and rode off into the sunset to catch bad guys together. And they lived happily ever after.
I cannot tell how grateful I am for being a part of this fandom. You guys and this ship will always be a part of my soul. I won’t come back for season 7 but that doesn’t mean I’m leaving this fandom. We’ve been through too much together for me to give up so easily. Even tho ouat has been slowly deteriorating with its plot holes and lazy writing, CS has always been magical to watch.
It pains me that this is the end and we’ll never see some milestones but I’m so happy for experiencing what we did with you. That was one hell of a journey. But remember guys…
By now, I’m convinced that the Supergirl writers had to write the Karamel romance against their will, and they’re making many of the characters on this show make fun of him as a way to rebel against their evil CW overlords.
And no one has given more reasons why she shouldn’t be with Mon-El than Kara herself. In almost every single episode she comes up with a list of things that show how they are not good for each other, but every single time she ends up ignoring her own instincts by the end of the episode.
How do people find this attractive? Mon-El’s jealousy in this episode was terrible, fighting for Kara’s hand as if he has any right to actually make that decision.
“You can’t force love.”
That’s an actual quote from tonight’s episode, and I laughed so hard I started choking. How can they write something like that and then force this relationship between Kara and Mon-El? Mon-El was extremely douchey in this episode, Kara called him out on it more than once, but in the end they still kissed. What the hell?
And exactly how was all of THIS a Sanvers episode? It STILL somehow managed to revolve around Mon-El. There was more chemistry between Winn and that alien than there was between Kara and Mon-El in half a season. How is Mon-El apologizing for being a jerk in almost every single episode considered character development?
I just…I just don’t get it. How many times are they going to make Kara speak her mind and then completely erase everything she said during an ending scene with Mon-El because he smiles at her? How is this at all empowering to women?
1) Wich character do you hate the most and why?
2) Is Alexander a hoe or nah?
3) Thoughts of Jamilton?
5) Daveed Diggs: Thomas or Lafayette?
6) Who has the best voice?
7) Who is the actor you love the most? (not the character, and the original cast)
8) Most hated song?
9) The saddest song?
10) That song that makes you wanna dance and sing so bad.
11) Lin Manuel Miranda? Yeah, Lin Manuel Miranda (We all agree).
12) Does your heart break when you listen to Philip saying “my name is Philip, and im a poet”????? Am i the only one??? And idk whyyy????
13) Which Schuyler sister you like the most?
14) Thomas is a Dick™ (this is not a question).
15) How did you get to know about Hamilton?
16) The first song you listened to?
17) Kill, kiss, marry?
18) Hamliza??? (Hell yes)
19) Favourite quote?
20) DAVEED DIGGS’ ARMS???!!!!
Disclaimer: All characters and locations belong to Rainbow Rowell!
Simon Snow is a complete nitwit. Baz thought.
The two boys were at a standoff. Baz always knew that Simon was plagued with nightmares. Some nights the sound of the curly-haired angel of a boy would keep him up until faint streaks of sunlight drifted through their bedroom door. He had never gone off in his sleep though. This was certainly new.
“Please Baz! My spine is too fucking boney to sleep on the ground. Do you want me to be miserable all night?” He was pleading now, his blue eyes wide, accentuating his freckles.
He was standing there in their chamber looking like an innocent child in a too-tall body. He was hugging a spare blankets and a pillow to his chest. His lanky, skinny limbs looked even skinnier in his baggy Watford pajamas. All his scone eating hadn’t done anything to increase his weight. Must be the pressure of seventh year getting to him.
“As a matter of fact, yes I do want that.” Yes, get bruises all over your perfect back you idiot. That’s what you get for being so attractive.
“If you don’t share your bed I’ll make sure you’re miserable all night too!”
It was a measly threat to Baz. He was already miserable enough every night to have the Mage’s Heir tormenting him through his presence every day and night. He rolled his eyes and smoothed out a single wrinkle in his bedsheets.
“Don’t ignore me! It’s just for one night. I won’t even touch you, I promise.”
Baz fluffed up his pillow. He could physically feel Simon’s glares.
“Come on man! S’not my fault Watford doesn’t have any spare beds lying around!” There was an intoxicating electric tingle to the air. Simon was getting too worked up about this. “If I have to sleep on the ground because of you I will go off on your bed and we’ll both be cold and sore from sleeping on the fucking stone floor.”
That was certainly a threat Simon could get away with doing, despite the anathema. Damn him. Baz thought.
“Okay. Fucking fine!” It came out more harshly than Baz intended.
Simon took a step back, the threads of his magic retreating immediately. It was certainly frightening how closely tied Simon’s magic was to his emotions.
“Thanks. I promise. This is just for tonight. I’ll build a spare bed myself if it means I don’t have to sleep with you.”
Baz snorted. Simon. Building something. Now that would be something. He sighed in annoyance as he realized sharing a bed with Simon would make it extremely difficult to sneak of to drink tonight.
“I’m going to change into my nightclothes. Make yourself at home, Snow.” He said sarcasm dripping from his voice like water from a leaky faucet.
Simon nodded. He looked exhausted.
Baz went to change his clothes in the bathroom. He stared at his own grey eyes in the mirror. His pupils were dilated and if he had more blood in him, he would probably would look flushed. He felt a surge of nervousness and anticipation.
Sharing a bed with Simon Snow. Simon fucking Snow. How on bloody earth am I supposed to not kiss the moles on his neck if he is bloody next to me?
This would certainly be a long night.
Emerging from the bathroom, Baz saw Simon fixing up a sheet to work as a divider in the middle of their already small twin bed.
“What the fuck are you doing Snow?” Baz asked incredulously.
“I thought it’d be more comfortable if there was a like… physical barrier between us.”
“Whatever floats your boat you nitwit.”
Baz carefully folded his Watford sweater, placing it in a drawer, and hung up his trousers. Then he stood by his bed, eyeing a reclining Simon.
“I promise I won’t bite or go off on you tonight Baz. And don’t even think about doing anything to me. Anathema, remember.”
Baz rolled his eyes and climbed into bed. He laid on his side, facing away from the boy he wanted to kiss ever since they met. Simon had already turned out the light. It was just the two of them now. Lying side by side. Lit by moonlight.
This would be incredibly romantic if were an entirely different pair of boys. And both gay. Baz thought.
He heard Simon sigh. He could feel heat radiating of him in waves. He was so hot. Baz didn’t understand why Simon even bothered to use a blanket. He was already a walking furnace. In more ways than one. Baz swallowed, bit his tongue and did his best to repress the urge to turn and kiss the living hell out of Simon.
Moments passed in silence. Simon’s breath faded into a rhythm. But it wasn’t how he sounded when he was sleeping. More like he was relaxed.
Baz was not relaxed. It felt like every atom of his undead existence was on edge. He was going to have to spend at least eight hours lying like this with the boy he loved and wanted most lying next to him. This was all a terrible mistake.
A gentle touch and a whispered “Baz!” made his entire body flinch. The hand immediately retreated and Baz immediately wished it back.
“Blimey Snow! What the fuck do you want?” He turned to look at the boy.
It was a mistake.
Simon looked ethereal. His eyes were soft and tired. His bronze hair was silver and shone under the starlight. His lips. Crowley his lips looked devourable.
Baz swore he felt his vampire heart have a seizure in his chest. He was tingling all over. This was a mistake. He should just go stalk the Watford grounds and sleep under a tree or some shit. Even a cold Autumn night spent outside would be better than this infernal torture.
“Baz. Why are we like this?”
“Like what, idiot?” Baz spat a bit.
The bead of saliva landed on Snow’s pillow. Baz wished it had landed on Simon’s face. Then he wished he hadn’t thought that.
“Why do we hate each other?”
Baz sighed in exasperation. But some force he wasn’t entirely in control of made him turn completely onto his side and face Snow full-on.
“I don’t know! Maybe my parents hate your adopted father because he stole all that was good from our family?” Baz’s words raised in volume.
He was getting annoyed.
Annoyed that Simon looked so calm. Annoyed that they could kiss right that moment Annoyed they weren’t kissing. Annoyed that it was even a possibility in his mind. He wanted to glare at Simon. But he was so tired. And thirsty.
This was a mistake.
Simon was silent for a moment. He seemed to be studying the wall behind Baz. Then he was studying Baz’s face and time seemed to stop.
“I’ve just been thinking a lot, Baz. None of this stupid rivalry makes any sense!”
“Welcome to the real world.”
“Sure. But right now. I’m scared.” Simon’s voice was getting soft and small.
He was so small and pale and delicate in that moment. Baz felt an insuppressible need to protect him. It made his heart feel like it could burst out of his chest and fly away.
“Scared?” Baz found his voice was getting softer now too.
Why. Why? He needed more control than this. Everything that was expect from him wasn’t what he really wanted. He had to stop his feelings. But he couldn’t. He had made a terrible mistake.
“I’m scared of the Humdrum. Of losing the people I care about. Penny. The Mage. Agatha. You.”
Baz coughed in suprise. Not a sarcastic cough. A genuine “what-the-fuckity-fuck” cough.
“I’m scared of sleeping tonight because I don’t want to wake up and find that I’ve destroyed everything I love.” Simon looked almost like he was going to cry.
“Are you afraid you’ll go off again tonight?” Baz asked.
Simon nodded ashamedly. Baz didn’t really feel concerned that Simon could hurt him. He felt concerned that Simon was sad. They laid there in silence, staring at each other.
Then, then, Simon took the sheet that was separating them, cast it aside, and flung his arms around Baz. Baz was too shocked to react for a moment. He couldn’t exactly fathom how this moment was real. Slowly, he wrapped an arm back around him.
“S-simon?” He managed.
“Sorry.” He muttered into Baz’s shirt. “I think I just needed a hug.”
“You want a hug from your mortal enemy in a bed?”
Baz could feel Simon sigh in response. Then he drew back but not that far back.
“I don’t know.”
They stared at each other. Baz knew his eyes probably looked as wide as Simon’s did. What did this all mean? What was Simon trying to accomplish through this? Did he know how Baz felt and was trying to manipulate him?
Manipulation or not, whatever Simon was doing was working.
Simon’s hand encircled his and he froze.
Physically and mentally, he froze.
Baz had so many questions. So many demands to make.
Why did Simon care about him?
Why on earth did Simon think hugging the boy who had only made him miserable would accomplish anything?
Why were they holding hands in a bed?
What the fuck was happening?
Why were they not kissing?
They should kiss.
He wanted Simon to kiss him. He wanted to kiss Simon.
Prompt: “Why are you looking at me like that” and Poe and OC friends to lovers.
A/N: Give me more Poe. This was so fun to write…best friends to lovers is my fav trope of all time besides love/hate I think!
“You really don’t have to sit here, Poe,” I said, casting the pilot a look from over my shoulder. “You gotta be exhausted.”
He was sitting on an overturned crate, chin propped in one hand as he watched me work. A crooked grin tugged at one side of his mouth. “What? And leave my baby all alone with you?”
I rolled my eyes at his teasing, but as I turned back to his ship, a small smile was on my own lips. “Honestly your “baby” might be better off in my hands than yours. Considering all the pain you’ve caused it.” I shined my light into the fuselage, double checking my work.
Alex is out with some friends when some creepy guy starts hitting on her so she just grabs whoever is closest and says that they are her boyfriend/ girlfriend to get the creep to go away but has to kiss them for extra measures, could be a surprised Maggie who she is "only friends with" or someone else who makes Maggie jealous even though they are... you know.. "only friends"
Lucy’s closer to her.
Maggie is on the other side of the table – though her body is stiff and she’s more than ready to step in.
But Lucy’s closer to her and J’onn will put her on probation if she breaks someone else’s nose, so instead of decking the frat boy with alcohol on his breath and sex on his mind, Alex tosses her arm around Lucy and tells the guy she’s taken.
Lucy catches on immediately, nodding and slipping her arm around Maggie’s waist.
The gesture looks too familiar, too intimate, and Maggie is bristling, now, for an entirely different reason than she was a moment ago.
She and Alex are just friends – hell, Alex and Lucy are just friends – but Maggie can’t take her eyes off the way their arms are wrapped around each other, the way Lucy looks protective, the way she stopped into the bar to meet them before changing out of the military uniform that is so much more intimidating-looking than the lowly detective shield on Maggie’s belt.
“Nah, you two are just friends, I didn’t see you doing any couple-y things bef – “
But then Maggie’s stomach is sinking and her brain is exploding, because Lucy is turning Alex’s face to hers, and she’s closing her eyes and she’s parting her lips and Alex is kissing her back and Maggie doesn’t know if she never wants to stop watching or if she wants to run out the door and never look back.
She settles for stepping around the table, putting her body between the gaping guy and the woman who’s supposed to be her best friend.
The woman who – she can’t deny it anymore, not now, not the way her stomach is churning and her eyes are burning to see her kiss another girl who’s just a friend, just a friend, just doing her a favor, just a friend, but god are they using tongue? – she can’t deny anymore than she’s solidly in love with.
She puts her body between Alex’s and the guy’s, and she stares coolly up into his face and she decides that if she has to take her anger out on someone, he’ll do just fine.
“Lady’s clearly not interested, man – move along.”
She fingers her badge and he practically snarls, but he obeys.
Maggie’s eyes close and she savors the moment before she has to turn around and watch the aftermath of… whatever just happened between Alex and Lucy.
“You defended me,” Alex’s voice jolts through her spine, and Maggie almost jumps.
“Lucy seemed to have it under control. I was just insurance,” Maggie shrugs, and she wavers, unable to decide whether to sit back down or to plead some excuse and leave to hit up the gym, to cry alone in her bed. To scream into her pillow and to bathe in her own pain.
Lucy and Alex exchange a glance, and Alex reaches for Maggie’s hand.
Maggie pulls back.
“Mags, you… are you okay? Did that guy hurt you? Did – “
“Well you wouldn’t know, would you, you were too busy making out with someone who’s just supposed to be your friend.”
“Maggie, what – “
“Sawyer, listen – “
“No, it’s whatever, Danvers, I didn’t mean… you know what, I shouldn’t have said anything, I’m sorry, obviously you can kiss whoever the hell you want to, and you know I love you, Lucy, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean – “
“What did you mean then, Maggie?”
Alex is standing, now, hand still extended, still reaching for Maggie’s, and Lucy watches them with a small smile on her face.
“I’m gonna… go find my own date,” she murmurs, knowing full well that neither Alex nor Maggie fully registers her words, and not minding in the slightest.
“Maggie, what did you mean?” Alex wants to know, because Maggie is still just staring at her.
Staring at her like she’s wavering on a precipice, and Alex is the wind.
But Alex is also the parachute, the protection from the fall.
“I meant it should’ve been me, Danvers. Because I… I want to be the one you kiss, and not just because some guy’s hitting on you. I… I wanna kiss you, Alex. I wanna do so much more than kiss you.”
It takes Alex so long to respond that Maggie almost goes into her bag for an anti-anxiety pill.
It takes Alex so long to respond that Maggie can hear her own heart beating, her own blood pounding through her veins.
Her own fate being decided by this woman, this incredible fucking woman.
“Then kiss me,” is what Alex ends up whispering, and when Maggie does – god, god, when Maggie does – Lucy whoops loudly from across the bar, and tells anyone who will listen, and even the people who won’t, that those are her girls, her friends, she got them together, she did it, she gets all the credit, she knew it all along, and aren’t they just the cutest?
may I ask why your relationship with the pride & prejudice (2005) is complex? I love hearing people's opinions about the movie
Now, I do not hold any sort of
beef or dislike anyone who prefers the 2005 adaptation over any other
adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. Partly because everyone’s preference is
unique, and mostly because I’m not a massive head of a dick.
My relationship with the 2005 film is
complex because there are three parts of me whenever I watch a film.
The director and the writer and the fan.
The director likes the film very much.
She adores the editing, how the scenes are lit, how Marianelli’s music so
perfectly moves the scenes along and evokes the feelings of the characters, the
costumes, the acting. The little touches and production details, she is
particularly fond of.
The writer finds the film to be rather
middle-of-the-road. There’s good writing in there, wit and some good ideas.
(Whoever came up with the idea of Elizabeth and Darcy’s first touch coming
through him helping her into the carriage needs to get an award, because so
much subtext and the writer lurves
subtext.) But she finds that sometimes, the writing is a bit too modern and it
doesn’t really properly evoke the Regency era for her as other adaptations have
done in the past.
The fan hates some of the changes. The
alternative ending shall not be spoken of, for one. Another severely dislikes
the overly giggly nature of Elizabeth Bennet. Kiera Knightley is a very good
actress, but Elizabeth was always meant to be, for the fan, a bit more serious.
Inclined to laugh, obviously, but grounded. Lydia is flighty, flirting without
thought for the effect it has on the rest of her family. Elizabeth however, is
proud and therefore, pragmatic. By making Lizzy more giggly, zipping about
making sarcastic comments, it just makes the film lack a bit of gravitas.
Putting all that together, basically I
find that though a beautifully made film, the 2005 adaptation is just too
fluffy and too on the nose. I understand that it’s a film and therefore changes
have to be made to fit everything into 2 hours, but it misses the mark on a
lot, and that makes it, as I said, fluffy. I want some sharpness to my P&P,
Take the 1995 adaptation. I know it’s talky,
a bit stagey and a bit stiff in some places but it lies deep in my heart,
embedded there for always. Everyone talks about Darcy and Elizabeth being in
the thundering rain in the 2005 film and I’ll be honest, that is a fantastic
scene with that almost kiss but 1995, HOLY HELL. THIS REQUIRES EXTENDED
CAPSLOCK BECAUSE ELIZABETH BENNET LIT UP BY SUNSHINE AS SHE TEARS FITZWILLIAM
DARCY, OWNER OF THE PEMBERLEY ESTATE AND EARNER OF 10 GRAND A YEAR, A NEW ONE.
LOOK AT DARCY.
HE’S REHEARSED THAT SPEECH. YOU KNOW HE HAS. TEN TIMES, OVER AND OVER, IN FRONT OF HIS BATHROOM MIRROR. HIS VALET’S ALL, ‘THE GREEN WAISTCOAT OR THE WHITE, SIR?’ AND DARCY’S JUST LIKE, ‘YOU MUST ALLOW ME TO TELL YOU HOW ARDENTLY I ADMIRE AND LOVE YOU’ AND THE VALET’S ALL ‘UMMMM THIS IS NOT WHAT I SIGNED UP FOR’
(and yes that is a
Blackadder Goes Forth reference, what)
ANYWAY. HE SAYS THIS SHIT TO ELIZABETH.
‘YEP, I’LL IMPLY THAT SHE’S SHIT POOR AND IT’LL BE EMBARRASSING FOR ME TO MARRY HER, SHE’S SO GONNA SAY YES RIGHT NOW, GOOD ONE DARCY.’
MEANWHILE LIZZY’S RAGE IS GENTLY SIMMERING IN A POT OF ‘I’M GOING TO KICK YOUR FUCKING ASS.’
THEN, WHEN DARCY’S ALL TALKED OUT, THIS LOOK AND THESE WORDS. AS LIZZY PREPARES TO GIVE THIS FUCKSTICK THE BURN OF HIS LIFE.
THAT IS A LOOK WHICH TELLS YOU SHIT IS ABOUT TO GO DOWN.
AND DARCY. HE KNOWS HE’S ABSOLUTELY FUCKED. LOOK AT THIS, AND DON’T TELL ME THAT ISN’T THE FACE OF A MAN WHO’S JUST PROCESSED THE WORDS HE’S JUST HEARD AND KNOWS DEEP DOWN HE’S ABOUT TO GET KICKED OUT OF THE BACK DOOR ONTO HIS FACE.
IN FACT, DARCY’S REACTIONS AS SHE TEARS INTO HIM IS A THING OF BEAUTY.
‘THIS IS… NOT GOING THE WAY I PLANNED’
‘THIS IS DEFINITELY NOT GOING THE WAY I PLANNED’
‘OKAY BUT SHE HASN’T TECHNICALLY SAID NO YET, I MAY BE IN WITH A CHANCE’
‘OH SHIT I FORGOT ABOUT THE SISTER’
‘WAIT HOW DOES SHE KNOW ABOUT BINGLEY’
‘DAMN YOU FITZWILLIAM’
‘ALRIGHT FUCK IT, I DID FUCK UP YOUR SISTER’S HAPPINESS SO WHAT’
THEN LIZZY BRINGS UP WICKHAM
‘UGH FUCKING WICKHAM WHY DO WE ALWAYS HAVE TO TALK ABOUT THAT DUDE’
BUT LIZZY CONTINUES AND DARCY REALISES THIS IS ABOUT MORE THAN BASTARD WICKHAM
‘OKAY NO, I HAVE ACTUALLY SEVERELY FUCKED UP’
SO HE TURNS ON HER
‘WELL YOU’RE POOR AND YOUR FAMILY IS SHIT SO WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY TO THAT HUH’
THEN LIZZY TURNS BACK TO HIM WITH THIS LOOK.
AND DARCY’S REACTION.
THAT NIGGLING THOUGHT HE HAD DEEP DOWN THAT HE WAS FUCKED – THAT HAS JUST COME LOOMING UP TO THE FOREGROUND, WAVING A FLAG WHICH HAS THE WORDS ‘WE ARE DOOMED’ SPLAYED ACROSS IT IN ELEGANT REGENCY FONT
BUT LIZZY AIN’T FINISHED YET
BEAUTIFUL SUMMER SHINESHINE IS POURING THROUGH THOSE WINDOWS, BIRDS ARE MOST LIKELY TWEETING, THE LEAVES ON THE TREES ARE BURSTING GREEN AND LIZZY IS THROWING EVERY WORD OF HER REJECTION OF DARCY AT HIM LIKE THEY’RE NINJA THROWING STARS OR SOME SUCH SHIT
LOOK AT THAT LOOK. THAT IS THE LOOK THAT PUTS FLESH ON MY BONES, BEATS IN MY HEART, AIR IN MY LUNGS AND FOOD IN MY BELLY.
AND WHAT’S HIS REACTION? WHAT’S THIS FUCKER’S REACTION TO THE MOST SAVAGE REJECTION HE’S POSSIBLY EVER HAD IN HIS LIFE? AS A WOMAN, LIZZY HAS VERY FEW OPTIONS IN THIS ERA. HE COULD RUIN ALL OF THOSE OPTIONS, RUIN HER, BY HEADING OUT OF THERE AND TELLING EVERYONE HE MEETS ‘DON’T GO FOR THAT ELIZABETH BENNET SHE’S RUDE AND UNGRATEFUL AND THE WORST KIND OF WOMAN’ BUT—
HE LEAVES. THIS UTTER WANKER APOLOGISES FOR TAKING UP HER TIME AND NOBLY, QUIETLY, LEAVES, NOT FORGETTING TO WISH HER WELL BEFORE HE GOES.
And suddenly, that’s a glimmer of the good behind the pompous arsehole. He listens to Lizzy’s rejection, savage and filled with truth, and he writes a letter to her in response.
How very fucking British.
And precisely why my relationship with the 2005 film is so complex.
Can we talk about this kiss? I mean sometimes I am good with words sometimes I am not and all I got is gotdamn Rick kissed the hell out of his wife, Michonne. I like how his cheek is all caved in like that, indicating that he is just…in there. Such a deep, sensual kiss. Conveying so much love and passion. It’s so beautiful. It’s like he was saying I love with you his lips and tongue but not using words. 😍😍😍 Last night was perfect.
Okay, but an AU were Draco went to Durmstrang instead of Hogwarts because Lucius didn’t want him going to a school run by Dumbledore.
And Draco shows up for the Triwizard tournament with his school right when Harry is in his awkward “holy fuck I’m bi as hell” phase.
Draco is excited to meet Harry Potter and he isn’t a little shit like he was in first year, but he’s still kind of a shit. Draco is impressed by Harry getting his name in the Goblet of Fire and roots for him over Krum.
Draco asks Harry to the Yule Ball and Harry doesn’t know what to say because he hasn’t asked anyone and no one has asked him.
Ron and Harry still have their fight, but Ron is also upset by the fact that both his friends are falling for Durmstrang guys, like what the hell!
Draco kisses Harry before the Durmstrang ship leaves and asks Harry to write to him.
Just gay as fuck Durmstrang!Draco trying to woo Harry during his year at Hogwarts.
Being friends with seven guys was sometimes a hassle. Especially when said seven guys acted like slobs ninety percent of the time and you had to take care of the as if they were children. It didn’t help that you were trying to obtain your degree in college at the same time that all of the guys just decided to have a ginormous mid life crisis together.
College was already hard enough, but having seven children on your hands made it even harder. There was one specifically, out of the seven, who seemed to take it easy on you, and not expect as much. And for that you would be forever grateful to Jeon Jungkook.
You had been friends with the seven of them since you were in high school, meeting them all through Jungkook. When you were in high school, Jungkook was your best friend. The two of you would spend all of your time together and the boys always said that if they needed to find one of you they would just look for the other. Jungkook and you were connected at the hip, and you did everything with each other.
Even at the final end of the school dance, the two of you went together and danced because you didn’t want to go with anybody else. You weren’t sure what happened after that though. It seemed that after that night, Jungkook seemed to hang out with you less and less. During the summer, you spent most of your time with the guys before you had to start college and they had to go back.
When somebody asks me how life is going, I always have the same answers: It’s okay, it’s fine.
What I really want to say is that my mother’s growing old and I’m scared. The wrinkles that form her face when she frowns have gotten deeper and her finger nails that she used to keep colored a dark shade of red are bare.
My little sister is learning to become a number at school. She received her first report card with all straight 90’s, but the girl who sits behind her had all straight 95’s. She clearly didn’t try hard enough, she believes.
My brother just entered high school, but he’s already stressed about what he’s going to do after college.
My father’s footsteps sound heavier on the wooden stairs of our house when he comes home from work now and his body looks tired.
My friends go to bed feeling empty and twist and turn in their sheets before they fall asleep from complete exhaustion and wake up restless.
I operate like a robot and have absolutely no control over time. It seems to be slipping from my fingers like the wind and I can’t trail behind it.
That is the way it is for most people.
We live in a constant cycle that repeats every day and the color of our lives becomes duller as we grow.
One day we’ll wake up being seventy and think, “Where did my life go?”
It went a little like this:
When you were born, you were born with curiosity burning in your veins. The sound of it was heard loud and clear when you giggled as a toddler and it slowly became inaudible when you became a teenager. In fact, the fire nearly burned out completely when you reached adulthood.
But it’s not out yet.
It doesn’t blow out until your heart stops working.
As long as your lungs expand and deflate, stardust production continues in your blood.
You can’t change the past.
You can’t correct the errors you made or pretend they’ve never occurred.
You can never find true happiness if you are always looking for it.
Live in this very minute.
Damn it, don’t think about what happens next. What happened before.
If somebody broke your heart, tell them.
Kiss the hell out of the one that makes you happy.
Call up that relative you swore you hated but haven’t heard from in a while and ask them how they are.
Take out that shirt from your closet that you bought because it was pretty and wear it, even if you think it doesn’t look great on you.
Drink more water in the day even if you don’t feel thirsty.
Put down your phone and step outside for a few minutes and just breathe.
Stare at the moon, the stars, the clouds as they drift onwards.
Watch the sunrise and the sunset by yourself and listen to soft music when you do it.
Take long showers and touch yourself gently.
Stop believing that a low grade defines your intelligence and learn to appreciate your hard work when you’ve put it in.
Make sure to give yourself a break when you need it.
Hug your friends for a minute longer and remind them that you love them.
Change your vocabulary from “I can’t” to “I can”.
Be open to pain and letting go of it.
Scream at the top of your lungs when the world is sitting on your shoulders.
Set fire to the dreams you couldn’t achieve and with the ashes form a new path.
Make your life one that is worth being proud of.
That you can feel satisfied with once you are taking your last breaths.
You have always been making choices on your own—It is up to you to make the best ones.