then again everything about this is unforgivable

One thing I’m curious about is why taylor swift doesn’t get the respect that she deserves?

She has been in music industry for 10 freaking years. This woman right here has a clean image, no nudity, only pure talent. She’s one of those rare music artists who produce creative contents, real quality content. She can sing, write songs, release a self-written album, play almost all of the possible musical instruments, respects everyone, and to top it all, she shows her never-ending love for her fans. No one’s like Taylor Swift who will stay in her tumblr all day long to make swifties happy. No one’s like Taylor Swift who will ditch awards shows just to stay with us. No one’s like Taylor Swift who will invite her own swifties, and make them listen to her nexth album and hang out with them in her own house. No one is like Taylor Swift. Yet, only we, swifties, can see that. Media portrays her as the most craziest, obsessive girlfriend who will break up with you when you look at another girl but they don’t talk about how Taylor Swift visits a lot of charities and donate her own money. That just because she wrote songs about her ex-boyfriends, just like any other music artists, she’ll get called out. Slut shaming is wrong, skinny shaming is unacceptable, sexual assault shouldn’t be taken as a joke but when it comes to Taylor Swift WHY do people think twice about all of these? In fact, they discredit her from being a victim of slut and body shaming. Everything she does, all you can bring up everytime is. Oh look, she’s playing the victim…again. You call her a Trump Supporter when she hasn’t spoken up about the election, but yet there are a lot of other celebrities who showed their support to Trump publicly. Every award that she gets is rigged? Everything that she does is wrong. One mistake from her is unforgivable. And now you’re asking us what happened to Taylor Swift? Why did she release a song and a music video mocking all the hate you’ve thrown at her? Y'all are asking us why she “changed”? Just stop. Taylor Swift is just a human being. Let her be herself. Let swifties support her without getting called a mainstream lover. Get a life. Respect Taylor Swift. She deserves it more than most of us do. @taylorswift

anonymous asked:

prompt for adam's bday: the first time ronan tells adam he loves him and adam getting very emotional

The thing is, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise.

It isn’t as though Adam doesn’t know how Ronan feels. He’d known from the start, long before he knew if he felt the same (but really, how was he meant to know? How do you define something you’ve never experienced?).

When Ronan had kissed him the first time – soft brush of lips against his, once, twice, stopping time, making him feel full of blinding white light, short-circuiting the fine-tuned machine that was Adam Parrish – Adam had known.

When Adam had finally returned the kiss, his heart hammering in his throat as he pushed Ronan up against the porch railing, drinking him in so deep he thought he’d never need to breathe again, he’d known. 

And of course he had, because there was no other option. Ronan Lynch was not, would never be, something to experiment with. Adam knew he could not try him on for size and claim ignorance later. The mere thought was anathema.

No, Adam had walked into love with Ronan with his eyes wide open, as deliberate as when he’d bargained himself to Cabeswater, but this time, fully aware of what he was signing up for. He knew it was not a game; he was not playing. He knew that there were no half-measures with Ronan Lynch, with the intricate paradox and miracle that he was. He knew that Ronan gave his heart away completely or not at all, and that when he did it, it was for good. Adam wasn’t always sure if he was worthy of it, but he was always sure he wanted to be. Ronan was a challenge Adam had never backed away from.

So, yeah. Adam knows. They just haven’t talked about it, because neither of them are very good at the talking thing, and because while Adam doesn’t doubt that he reciprocates the feeling – if he had, he would never have kissed Ronan back, despite what Gansey might think – it’s a different thing altogether to say it out loud. Of the two of them, Ronan is the poet, as profane as his verses tend to be. Adam doesn’t know how to put words to something as beautiful as what he feels – it is enough to feel it. He doesn’t want to make things ugly, so he keeps quiet, and Ronan keeps quiet, almost as if by unspoken agreement. Until now, that is.

“Happy birthday.”

Keep reading

C: Self Preservation is key for survival and more black women should be taking this more seriously. Everyday more people are showing their asses to our faces and we’re refusing to accept it, once people show who they are you better believe them and fast. Black women need to preserve Black women and black women only now, why? Because more and more people have been telling us that they’re against us including our own. No more begging, no more muling, no more mammying, no more coddling. We aren’t in a position to do that anymore because it doesn’t benefit us in any way. I know this message won’t resonate with all of you, but for the ones that get it, good and for the ones that don’t, just keep living and you’ll find out later with what I’m talking about. And for those who just don’t care, same on this side too. 

I’m not Wonder Woman, I can’t save the world when it doesn’t save me. All I’m saying is, Black women you’ve been shown time and time again who is against you. Don’t make the same mistakes thinking things will change. It won’t until you stop entertaining it. The same way people are unforgiving and relentless with us, you have to be the same way back. You don’t win by playing nice. Playing nice hasn’t worked out for Black women ever because everything is already against us. So stop playing nice. This will not be easy, but every stride counts. We deserve a hell of a lot more. No more table scraps and crumbs, because as you can see ain’t nobody worried us. So we might as well be all for ourselves and ourselves alone. Every other race groups has done this, black men have done this. Black women need to start doing this and do this now. Black women need to start being more exclusive just like everybody else, if we don’t a pass into theirs, they don’t get a pass into ours. No more excuses, the time is now or never.

The Past is a Different Country

Be warned, I think I spot an emotional rollercoaster ahead

Chapter 1: The Paparazzi Attack

Dewey made his glaceless way downstairs, bouncing off a wall as he followed the smells and sounds of breakfast.

He entered the dinning room and was immediately  sure Louie was up to something.

If bumping into a wall hadn’t woken him up, he was now.

“Good Morning” he sang out cheerfully. Scrooge smiled at him and gave him a nod, uncle Donald waved but didn’t look up, Huey’s and Webby’s greetings was just as cheerful and Louie grinned.

Not his usual smirk, but a grin. There was an air of affected innocence surrounding him and as Dewey studied his brother he became sure Louie feeling rather pleased with himself.

Louie was definitely up to something.

Dewey gave Huey a questioning look, who gave him a clueless smile, then Donald, who was half heartedly making notes and referring to his phone, Webby who was talking at Huey, then finally to Scrooge, who seemed to already be halfway through the Duckburg Times.

Alright. No one else had noticed Louie was up to something. Time to distract.

Dewey served himself some porridge, upending the pot of honey, sneaking glances at his Uncles. Huey gave him a look, his eyes rolling upwards, before pushing a large glass of milk towards Dewey. Webby gave him an amused look, and she paused in her tale, perhaps sensing the mood in the room had shifted.

Dewey grinned at them he set the now empty honey pot down, and glanced at Louie. Louie considered him, and pushed the peanut butter his way.

“Dewey. Fruit.” Uncle Donald directed, waving his pen towards the bowl of fruit.

“Peanut butter counts.” Dewey waved his spoon.

“Peanut butter? On porridge?” Uncle Scrooge pulled a face, putting aside his newspaper “Really lad?”

“It’s good.” Dewey through a sticky mouthful.

“It’s disguising.” Webby exclaimed.

“What do you like Uncle Scrooge?” Huey piped up.

“Salt. Or a little cheese.” Uncle Scrooge declared.

“Eww!” Dewey pulled a face, as Louie dropped out of sight.

“Sweets are all well and good, in their place” Scrooge began a lecture.

“It’s breakfast!” Dewey interrupted. “It’s meant to be sweet!”

“And that will hardly going to carry you through the day lad!” Scrooge rose from his chair.

“Dewey!” Dewey stood on the chair so Scrooge couldn’t loom over him. “My name is DEWEY!” No one else seemed notice the door opening.

Scrooge paused. “Dewey.” He conceded, face pulling tight, “I didnae mean…” He paused again.

“Dewey. Fruit.” Donald said, glaring at Scrooge. “And sit down. Both of you.”

Distraction successful. Dewey grabbed some blueberries and kept his head down, grinning into his porridge.

Louie had better share.


Louie ducked out of the dinning room, tucking his hands in his pocket, tugging at the plastic envelope hidden there.

He needed somewhere private to hide and well lit enough to read. The mansion had more than enough of the first, but the second was harder, what with most of the unused rooms being shut up.

But Louie has planned ahead, scouted the lay of the land, finding an unused bedroom with a window seat. He settles in behind the curtains certain that no one is going to find him. (Except Webby but she’s wouldn’t be looking for him for a while)

Huey would cut it open, Dewey would tear into the envelope, Louie traces along the seams and pulls it apart where it’s weakest.

His heart is beating a little fast, but his hands are steady as he turns the glossy magazine over. He’s on the front cover.

“What is it like like living with the Richest Duck in the world? An exclusive interview with Louie Duck, nephew of the renowned Scrooge McDuck.”

Louie grins. It’s a good photo. But did Fergus keep his word?

He opens up the magazine, checking the contents. And pales.

‘The mysterious disappearance of Della Duck.’
‘The most likely heir to the McDuck Fortune’
‘Donald Duck, respected war hero or lunatic?’

It goes on and on, Louie shakes as he turns the pages, it’s his family, he recognises names and pictures. He doesn’t know these stories. His stomach twists and he wants to throw up.

How much did uncle Donald hide from them? Why do strangers know more about his family than he ever did?

Water drips onto to page as he opens the article on his Mom, the writing is too blurry to read. There’s a picture of his Mom climbing into a small aircraft.

He can’t.

This is bad. This is wrong. He made a mistake. He didn’t know they were going to do this.

He can’t breathe. The room is too dusty.

He wants Uncle Donald.

Huey was totally up for a day entertaining himself. He had plans. Louie had vanished, and Dewey had grabbed Webby for more exploring. There’s pieces of his model aircraft scattered all over his desk and he’s carefully checking he hasn’t lost anything in the move to his new bedroom when something breaks his concentration.

He tilts his head and listens.

Someone’s crying.

Oh. Oh no. His heart sinks. He was really looking forward to working on his model. He hopes Dewey and Webby haven’t gotten into something dangerous. (Again)

He sighs, knowing he’s not going to rest until he finds the source, and drops the pieces he’s holding back into the box.

It’s louder outside his room, and coming from above, so he silently makes his way to the staircase.

He doesn’t have to go far.

Louie’s curled in a ball, arms wrapped around his knees. He’s sobbing and Huey settles down next to him. Louie tries to talk, but nothing is coming out.

Huey rubs his back and waits for Louie to calm down enough to speak.

Instead, a crumpled magazine is shoved at him.

“Mom?” Huey stuttered, his heart clenching, clinging to Louie as he reads the article.

It’s horrible. There’s dozens of digs against Uncle Donald and Scrooge. It’s a full out attack on their family. Huey is shaking.

He growls, and for a moment all he wants to do is tear the horrible magazine to pieces and set them on fire.

“We’re telling Uncle Donald” Huey declares, dragging his brother to his feet and half carrying him down the stairs. It’s a good thing Louie’s his height because he’s barely able to support himself, they’re both shaking so hard.


Donald thinks he’s having a good day. His CV has gone off to a dozen different job adverts, and he’s already had a response from two, one asking for references and another asking if he’s available for a phone interview.

Uncle Scrooge almost apologised. (He’s getting better at it.) And Mrs Beakley is having a day off, so Donald gets to cook lunch and dinner today.

He’s anticipating the look on his Uncle’s face.

Then he hears it.

“Uncle Donald!” Huey sounds strident, his voice wavering.

The hob goes off. The lid is placed on the sauce pan. He’s pretty confident  he’ll be able to salvage it.

His boys need him.

They look a mess, Louie is pale and clinging to Huey, half hiding behind his brother, his breathing coming in shaky gulps, Huey is shaking, his hands clenching around the lump of glossy paper in his hand.

“What’s wrong? Where’s Dewey?”

“They printed trash about Mom!” Huey wails, shaking the paper, a magazine Donald realises, catching sight of a familiar photo.

There’s a chill seeping into his bones, his hear shutters and everything goes grey and muted. He can barely understand what Huey is saying, and Louie is just repeating I’m sorry again and again.

They hurt his boys.

Scrooge is interrupted from his research by the familiar sound of a McDuck (or in this case a Duck) losing his temper.

“By Dismal Downs, what now?” He utters, deciding to investigate before Donald broke anything and give his nephew a good shaking if need be.

What he sees is unforgivable, the lads look terrified, and he yanks his nephew up. “Look at them” He hisses.

“Uncle Scrooge,  it’s not Donald’s fault.” Huey pipes up, there’s a thunderous expression on the lad’s face, the first warning sign that Huey is on the verge of displaying his own version of the McDuck temper. He holds something out, and Scrooge drops Donald to take it.

Smoothing out the much crumpled paper he immediately sees the problem. “I’ll handle this” Scrooge growls.

“No.” Huey said, folding his arms “First, I want to know what really happened when Mom disappeared. Not the lies they printed”

“Agreed” Dewey said, dropping down from his perch in the rafters, Webby just behind him.

Scrooge glances at Donald. It’s his decision.

“Alright.” Donald slumped, defeat written across every feather. “Alright boys.”

“You didnae need to lad.” Uncle Scrooge accent thickened.

Donald gave him a look. “They deserve to know.”

“I was there too you know.” Scrooge presses, but there’s an undercurrent of uncertainty in his voice.

Donald looks at him, and for once there’s none of the barely hidden resentment in his gaze, only grief deeper than the marine trench and their shared burden of guilt.

The silence between is heavy, and the kids inch closer to each other. Louie’s tears have dried, he’s starring at the floor and leaning on Huey. Huey has a protective arm around Louie, but his eyes are stormy, Dewey’s landed on Louie’s other side just in front of his brothers and is bouncing from foot to foot, and Webby is watching with wide eyes, her hand twisted in Dewey’s tee. They can’t help the undercurrent of excitement and dread rolling off of them.

Until Donald speaks.

“Can you tell it Uncle Scrooge?” Donald’s voice is flat, a little bit angry, but mostly hurt.

Scrooge flinched back from the open disdain.

“I can try.” Scrooge comes back with, the closest he can admit to that he’s as unready to face this memory as Donald. His hands tighten on his cane, recognizing that this could be the start of an old argument, one he’s not sure either of them will walk away unharmed from.

“Alright.” Donald looked away.

“Alright” Scrooge echoes, not sure he’s heard right. “Into the study with you lads, I’ll put the tea on.”

“Webby too.” Dewey says, clutching her arm.

Scrooge nods. “I shalt tell this tale again.”

@donaldtheduckdad and so it begins

Part 2 can be found here:

http://robinine-blog.tumblr.com/post/165160561770/the-past-is-a-different-country

6

favorite comic character meme: 3 non-romantic relationships — [1/3] selina kyle & holly robinson 

“And when I see Holly, I can tell she’s been living in those shadows with me the entire time. My absence has been unforgivable. And the saddest part is, I know she’ll forgive me, anyway. It’s the best part too. Because somehow, it gives me back a big part of what was missing inside… It helps me find myself again. Just like that. All my problems start to fade, and the only thing I care about is this girl, who went through so much for my sake. Who lost a piece of herself that she can’t get back again. And as she apologizes for being so weak, for killing Sylvia, for letting Maggie get hurt, and for everything else in the world that isn’t her fault, I hold her tight and whisper over and over again: It’s okay, it’s okay. And just saying that, feeling her tears fall onto me as I do, I know that’s it’s going to be true sometime soon. I don’t know exactly how, but we are going to be okay. We have to be.” Catwoman v3 #19

anonymous asked:

may you please do a scenario of bakugou with a s/o that is very shy and timid so she usually takes people's crap and gets pushed over a lot, but one day she's sparring with someone and they say something rude about bakugou and she just snaps and beats them up ?? how would he react ??

I hope you enjoy it ? ー Mod Dabi.


“Don’t you dare ever say anything bad about Bakugou again!” Another punch, another smack, another kick and another student collapsing from the exceedingly attacks. His hues couldn’t believe what he was witnessing, it was all to shockingly new for him.

This shy, timorous and innocent… who knew what potential they were capable of having. Bakugou silently gazed at his love who continually swing their legs, kicking away at the capitulating student. “Shit, shit, I’m sorry okay?! Stop kicking me!” They pleaded, submitting themselves completely in surrender. The dirt beginning to stain their gym uniforms from everything.

“Take it back! You can say things about me, but not Bakugou. That’s unforgivable and it’s untrue!” They hissed venomously, their façade no longer bearing the familiar nervousness Bakugou once knew. And yet… this facet… he could get use to it. It was terrifying, yet comforting since they merely wanted to correct his true reputation.

Though, the only thing that bothered him was that these students may plot vengeance against them someday. He won’t have that. Bakugou hastened his speed when approaching them. They were distracted by their spites as they spoke bitterly, “What’s it like getting beat up by a shy person-”

“Y/N, it’s okay. You can stop now.” Bakugou grasped onto their hands and spun them into his chisel chest gently, brushing his fingertips through their locks soothingly. “Thank you for beating that guy up though. Hell, I’m kinda scared of you.” He chuckled slightly before placing several kisses on their forehead, holding them to his chest for awhile.

They stood there quietly, engulfing into his loving presence once more and nuzzled his chest. The student struggled to maintain their balance and limped away hurriedly, cursing under their breaths. “That’s what you get. Karma.” Bakugou rolled his eyes when observing them cowardly disappearing before his sight.

Bakugou reverted his attention towards his love again and tilted their chins, pressing his lips against theirs gently. “Thank you. You’re my hero.” The blonde exchanged a genuine smile, a sense of warmth filling up his red hues. They would never forget his words. Bakugou would never, ever forget their courage and the bravery they went through for him. He was proud.

anonymous asked:

Hi so basically I went out with this girl last August for a date, she ignored me and then broke up with me via text. She now glares at me and makes me feel unwelcome in my own school environment. Said girl also outed me when I was 14 (I'm 16 now) and I only dated her bc I was frustrated w my identity and I felt sorry for her. I want to get back at her but I don't know how??? And neat tips so I can so??? Thanks boo

Same anon again lol. After we broke up she also started to brag about how she hooked up with loads of guys in summer camp (in front of me and my friends) so like yeah

tbh? outing people is unforgivable and she deserves a slap in the face. but I don’t condone violence so here’s the fun, family friendly way to get back at her:

ruin literally everything for her. tell her spoilers about her favorite books and movies. if she confides in you with any sensitive information (that won’t get her seriously hurt), tell your friends while she’s in the room and pretend you forgot it was a secret. unfortunately, for my plan to work, you’ll have to play nice for a little while, so I hope you’re exceptionally skilled at biting your tongue.

any advice, followers? 

I kind of hurt my back really badly yesterday and am so upset at myself because I want to draw and can’t. I so want to say sorry about the lack of art lately. My tablet wouldn’t behave, then I felt uninspired and now my back hurts and I can’t sit to draw on my art pad. I think everything is inspiring against me to not draw lol

I’ve also been feeling low about my realism..again I know. I know it’s not a favoured style and it takes me so damn long to draw it. You get the smallest thing wrong and you can notice it. It’s an unforgiving style to be sure. I worry so much that it appears creepy, is stiff and hits uncanny valley. I got so much grief for that in an old fandom the demons rear their ugly heads for me sometimes. Sometimes I wish I could draw differently, but this is the way I draw and I can lessen it but in the end it’s my style. It’s as much a part of me as my handwriting. Which if you’ve ever seen my handwriting it’s godawful and maybe I should’t be comparing my art to that. lol

I do have something to post later though.

anonymous asked:

"I've been looking for this fic that deviates from aou with bucky saving pietro and wanda then directing them to the avengers?" it's the ungraceful art of falling by buckyfuckybarnes

Thank you for writing in!

The Ungraceful Art of Falling by buckyfuckybarnes

Bucky Barnes was cold.

He felt like he’d been cold for months now; doing nothing but experiencing one unending chill after another. He’d been cold in England, and again in Italy, and again especially in Austria – both while he was kept in an underground cell, and when he was strapped without cover to the unforgiving metal of Zola’s lab table.

But Steve… Steve Rogers was sunshine. Everything about him was warm, from his crinkly-eyed smile to his white-hot rage. Steve was Coney Island on a summer’s day; lying back on high rooftops to watch fireworks on the 4th of July; drinking stolen whiskey in his parent’s living room…

Loving Steve was a fact – simple and plain, like breathing air or bleeding red; loving Steve was soldered into his skin like a tattoo – it buzzed in his brain like its own kind of high. It was a part of who he was.

Sun in Cancer - Home Artist


Strong, emotional, driven. Moody, childish, passive aggressive. Similar to other Water signs - whether loved or hated; they bring out strong emotional reactions from others. Tend to be misunderstood and painfully reduced to docile crybabies of the zodiac when they are so much more. Just like the Moon that rules their sign, they are secretive yet very intriguing creatures.

Cancer is the 4th sign on the zodiac list. They are a Water element with Cardinal and Feminine energy. Ruled by the Moon, they represent emotions, past, home and nourishment. Sun in Cancer is often considered emotionally strong yet terribly moody and unpredictable. The truth is that yes - they are very senstive people. They go through powerful, emotional storms. Cancers are sensitive, they feel things deeply and their emotions are just likes waves, they come and go with different frequency and strength. Although they are not afraid of them. Cancers possess enormous decks of strength and emotional endurance needed to survive that kind of storms. They express their energy freely and openly, they let their emotions out without the fear of being judged because they understand their own nature and needs. Those less mature tend to lash out on others, not being able to handle properly what is going on within them but mature Cancer Sun knows how to effectively express their energy in the positive way without being passive-aggressive bullies.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

i NEED to know what john said about alex at the award ceremony?

I wrote the majority of this while on a conference call this morning, so I apologize for how clunky it is, but… shrug emoji.

(A…coda? A something to this.)

*

“And now,” Dean Adams says, “to present the award for Distinguished Graduate Scholar in Parapsychology, Dr. George Washington.”

John is pleased to note that Washington gets significantly more applause than Adams did when he took the stage. By the sour look on Adams’ face as he steps back and takes his seat again, it didn’t go unnoticed by him, either. Herc and a few other students whistle shrilly, and eventually Washington motions for the applause to die down. He puts on his reading glasses and clears his throat.

“Good evening,” he says, and one of the harried looking students volunteering for the event runs forward and nudges the mic closer to his mouth. “Tonight, I have the honor of presenting the award for the Parapsychology Department’s Distinguished Graduate Scholar to Alexander Hamilton.” John can’t stop himself from a spontaneous cheer, but he’s gratified that he’s not the only one doing the cheering. Lafayette and Herc and a handful of other parapsych people he knows are equally enthusiastic. Or, at least, they’re enthusiastic, period. John doesn’t think any of them could match his pride right now. “Mr. Hamilton is a first year student in our program, but in ten months, he’s shown remarkable potential. He came to us after graduating summa cum laude from Columbia University in only two years. In his first month at Morristown, he took the Investigative Parapsychologist Exam and received a perfect score, something that fewer than one quarter of one percent of students achieve. After two terms with us, he has a perfect GPA, and right this moment he’s revising a paper for the Atlantic Parapsychology Journal.

Keep reading

Anti villains


Zuko from AVATAR THE LAST AIRBENDER or ATLAB for short, is the case of a character introduced as a villain who had many sympathetic and honorable traits for villain, who’s own reason for being a villain wasn’t even his choice. Exiled by his father for speaking up against using his own people as Canon folder, forced to hunt a myth. He fights the heroes to give the protagonist to his father. Not so he can become stronger, just because he wants to go home. He does many Morley gray things in the series, but he never crosses the line of doing anything too heinous and is reluctant to hurt innocent people. He’s a grouchy shit but eventually he mans up from his abusive bitch father, who ironically is voiced by Luke Skywalker, and joins the heroes. His Redemption Arc is interesting because he is the victim of abuse himself by his father, both emotional and physical and raised in a genocide happy country. His Redemption Arc he had to search for on his own and even when he found it, he was turned down and had to prove himself time and time again.



Kylo Ren/Ben Solo from the force awakens is as well a villain who is introduced as well as having sympathetic traits. The only issue is unlike Zuko, as far as we have seen he has chosen his own fate and has actively rushed off the chance of redemption by his parents and uncle, who is ironically Luke Skywalker. Also unlike Zuko, kylo Ren has never shied away from crossing the morally Gray Line. The slaughter of the people of jakku, Luke’s Jedi Academy, and the murder of his own father. Not many people can give their theories, but right now we have to work with facts. The facts are that kylo Ren has done monstrous things.


Even if you only compare season 1 Zuko with the force awakens kylo Ren, both are villains who are trying to appease evil men, but Zuko never wants to kill anyone or appease his father by Crossing that line while kylo Ren has crossed the line, danced on it, then impregnated it with a baby that looks like a mixture of Darth Vader and Lena Dunham.

My thoughts: we are all entitled to our own opinion, but honestly from a storytelling point of view, it would be bad writing to give kylo Ren a Redemption Arc. He has done nothing to deserve it, and has shown that even though he is torn between the light side and the dark, he hasn’t shown anything else proving that he is a good person underneath everything and his crimes outweigh the off-screen good his parents talk about mostly because he killed one of his parents which is something not even Zuko did and his father was his own abuser. Now you could also draw parallels to Darth Vader, and in some ways they are similar but again their situations are very different, yet I feel as if the only way kylo Ren can be redeemed is to die. Darth Vader could not live, no matter what. His crimes were horrible and unforgiving. Luke Skywalker can forgive Darth Vader because that is his father, but all of the death and suffering he’s caused? You can’t wipe that away just because of a singular person, which is what the people who love kylo Ren need to realize. From a writer’s point of view and a moral point of view, he can’t be forgiven and live. It’s a comment rope called Redemption Equals Death or it’s similar Trope that equals Redemption. Kylo Ren can be redeemed but at the cost of his own life. He has committed murders and done horrible things.

But if you would like a Redemption in Star Wars about someone who worked for the antagonists and then turn to their side because he couldn’t turn the blind eye any longer then I have someone for you


Because even if it’s not today, Or maybe not even within a few hundred years, I would still love you like I did before.

Oh how I just wish you would hide me in your arms,
Hide me where no one has hidden you,
We’ll hug the shit out of each other,
We’ll kiss each other to death. 

We’ll stare at each other so much, 

That one day our eyes will melt.

I don’t care who you belong to,
I don’t care whether you would love me back either.
I’ll hear about you everyday, 
That it is indeed a grave mistake to fall for you,
But truth be told,
Even if it was the most unforgivable sin,
I would relish in committing this beautiful mistake of falling in love with you.
Even if I were to forget everything,
If I were to forget who I was and how to breathe,
Even you walking across with no heed,
Would make me fall over for you head over heels.
Again.

Over and over again I’d commit the same blunder,
Of falling for you over and over again.

My feelings for you might seem the most laughable thing to you,

Yet you never seem to understand that, 

if it’s for you I can die with no regrets 

Because even if it’s not today,

Or maybe not even within a few hundred years, 

I would still love you like I did before. 

                                                          - Words That May Never Reach You.

Neko Atsume Gothic
  • One by one, the rooms of your house disappear. One day, all that remains is your backyard. You don’t know why, but you know that if you put out certain objects and fill the cat bowl with food, the cats will come. This becomes your life. Filling the cat bowl. Buying the cat toys. Watching the cats.
  • A faint, peaceful tune is always playing. The sound of meows is ever-present, even when the food bowls are empty and the cat toys lie dormant, with no cat in sight. You do not know where the music or the meowing truly comes from.
  • No matter how much food you put out, they are never sated. They are always hungry.
  • Then you wonder if it’s actually the cats eating the food. Although the food continually depletes while they are present, you realize you have never even seen them eat it. 
  • In fact, you never see any cats come or go. They are either present or they are not. 
  • You begin to wonder if the cats are truly real. You realize they are all actually the same cat, with the same faces and the same movements. Only their colors, and occasionally costumes, differ.
  • And who puts them in costumes? Are these cats sentient? Why do some cats respond to the names of deceased historical figures?
  • The cats do seem to possess greater intelligence and resourcefulness. They leave behind fish to show their gratitude. Fish you can use in a strange market in exchange for goods for the cats. Who makes these goods? And why would they accept fish as any sort of currency? What does the owner of this market use the fish for? 
  • You could save up 10 gold fish to trade for 250 silver fish. But gold fish is hard to come by, while silver fish accumulate fairly quickly, so this trade is useless to you. The only trade you are forced to make, in what must be a capitalist society more unforgiving and unfair than your own, is 500 silver fish for 10 gold. How this kind of exchange could exist in any kind of sensible or stable economic system in whatever society these cats must be part of, escapes you.
  • One day, everything goes completely black. You wonder if you are about to lose consciousness. Out of the abyss quietly walks one of the cats to the center of your vision. It sits there, quietly, silently, unmoving, waiting. When you finally approach it offers you something. A memento. This happens time and time again. The items they give you seem to have little if anything in common, most are useless, some are disgusting. They don’t seem to have any particular value, but the way each cat presents it to you, tells you it means a lot to the cat. You feel incredibly grateful with each memento, saving each one, and you don’t know why.
  • You save enough gold fish to buy what they call “an extension”–you are able to make one room for your house, but this room is for the cats only. You think you may be able to live here, reclaim your life again. But you cannot enter the room. As before, you are a but an observer. You realize there is a cat bowl in the room already. You fill it with food. You put toys in the room. The cats come again. You are happy.
  • Are they cats? Were they always cats? Are they lost souls in purrgatory, carrying lost items from their former short, brief human lives? Are you meant to watch them in this endless resting place, for the extension of eternity, a quiet, passive host, waiting for an end that will never come?
Say His Name: Part II (Zico/You/Namjoon)

Part I 

Playlist: Don’t Go

Namjoon’s POV 

Headline: idol star scandal in Japan 

You’ve got to be kidding me. He’s only gone for a few days in Japan… He couldn’t just wait for her? I re-read the headline over and over again, trying to make sense of everything, trying to understand why she still stayed with him, and this isn’t even the first time! She drives herself mad for this guy. I’ll never understand it. But I’ll be there, again, when he leaves. I’ll watch over her while you’re out breaking her heart, don’t worry. 


“Namjoon-ah!” I turned just in time to see that excited smile she got whenever she saw me…anyone. Takeout and a movie for the third time this week. She must be feeling really lonely to be here this much, but I don’t mind. Zico was promoting in Japan and apparently they didn’t part ways at a high note… But when did they ever? 

Don’t get me wrong. I’ve known Zico longer than she has, and on a good day, he’s the life of the party. Always making everyone feel important and is never one to judge, but that’s the problem with people who are so appealing, it’s just a mask. They don’t do things to make you feel important, they do it for themselves. He has always been like this. Always getting ahead not matter who he leaves in the dust. It would only be a matter of time before she got too fed up with him, or he leaves her in the dust with the rest of us. 

“Look, I’ve got chicken and beer to celebrate!” She had no idea the effect she had on me, I mean besides bringing all the food… That’s a major plus… Just her presence made you feel like you could never feel lonely again. Can people just take away emotions like that? Was she even real? 

“What are we celebrating?” I had to snap back to reality so she wouldn’t notice how creepy I was being with her. 

“Zico comes home tomorrow so you wont have to put up with me anymore! I’ve been so annoying lately and I wanted to make it up to you, and just… Well I guess thanks for being there for me… Even when you’re busy and….” She trailed off looking down with a sigh, wondering if she should continue. She hesitated and started again with a confident raise in her shoulders and a suppressed look of sadness on her face. 

“And I think it’s best if we stop seeing each other when he returns.” Hit one. Lower abdomen. Searing pain radiating to my core. 

“I think that you’re an amazing friend, but I think it’s best if we part ways here. I don’t want to give you the wrong idea.” Hit two. Straight hook to my jaw. Cheep shot stopping my breath completely, attempting too recover hurts even more. 

“I mean you know how he gets….” Legs kicked out from underneath me. Stability compromised. 

“I’m in love with him, Namjoon.” Final blow. Shot to the heart. Flat line. I don’t feel a thing. 

She looked too confident in her stance, but the furrow in her brow made me think otherwise. I knew I only had one chance at this. Don’t blow it. Don’t let her…. 

“Don’t go.” Still staring at her, with all my wounds exposed. Becoming more and more infect by the second. My feelings were rotting from the inside out. I was leaking. I lost vision. My brain was seizing with the memories of her falling asleep on my shoulder, and the times where I thought she’d leave him. Maybe even for me. What a stupid idea. 

“Namjoon-ah”, don’t say my name. Don’t shape your lips around each syllable. Don’t let it leave your mouth. I might actually die. You’re driving me crazy. How could you not pick me. I’m here. For you. Always. You’re killing me. Say what you mean. Don’t say what’s right. Say something real… 

“I’m so sorry”. I snapped. It was a combination of her furrowed brow telling me that this was rehearsed, and the execution that wasn’t what she planned. I wanted to force every word she spoke back down her throat till she was hungry for air. In an attempt to never hear her speak again, I crashed my lips to hers with so much force she stumbled backwards. Pined against the wall, with a crazy man starving her of air… And this was my big plan to make her stay? 

I wouldn’t give. She wouldn’t speak to me again. I was making sure of it. I felt more tears, but they weren’t mine this time. She was in pain. So much pain that she decided to smother that by kissing me back. As if to punish herself even more. We didn’t stop till she started to fall over. Lack of oxygen and all. I helped keep her steady. Pushing her shoulders deeper into the wall for balance as I caught my breath. 

“If you speak again…I won’t stop this. I won’t let up. I never want to hear your voice again.” She looked up at my words and started to shape her mouth with a sentence that I couldn’t bear to hear. Her better judgment got the best of her and she slowly decided that I wasn’t lying, that I was completely serious, and she was scared to see the consequences. 

She was good. Loyal. Devoted. Kind. Understanding. Forgiving. Everything I loved about her. And I took it away in an instant. Now she was disloyal. Hateful. Ignorant. Unforgiving. And all this animosity was projected on me by just the look in her eyes. It was a hunger. Not for me. But for what I had started. 

She left without saying a word. 

Scorn filled my lungs as I balled up the newspaper and made the disposal as dramatic as possible. As if I was trying to rid every trace of them off the face of the earth. 

A few days past with no calls or texts from her. I had said I never wanted to hear her again, but with all this dirty laundry out in the media, I found it hard to believe she was okay. I was her outlet. Her safety net. Her in place shelter. Was. 

My phone buzzed and my heart skipped with the hope that thoughts really did travel through brain waves, and she heard that no matter what I had said, I’d always be there for her. I wanted to scream it out loud. 

From Zico: I have a favor to ask.


*Oooohhhh guys…..  Worth the wait? Don’t worry it wont be long before part 3 I promise!*

The terror of fatherhood.

Josiah doesn’t want to become his father, full stop, and he’s old enough that he’s worked through most of those issues and knows he’ll do better, but he’s also old enough that he thinks his age is a concern, or at least it is to him. JD’s just plain scared about everything (WHAT IF I DROP IT. JD you’ll be fine. BUT WHAT IF I DROP IT.), Chris is sure he’ll never survive this and if they die again so will he, no contest. Vin and the bounty mean he’s a nervous wreck unless he’s dealt with that, and even if he has he’s still nervous as hell. Ezra and everything and having another person he puts at risk by breathing (as with Vin), he’s sure, and though I don’t see him ever denying Maude access unless she does something truly unforgivable, their relationship is surely going to be another source of stress. Nathan’s not sure how to go about this because having a kid as a free man is very different than having one as a slave, and it just doesn’t help at all that he knows how many things can go wrong along the way. Buck is just terrified something is going to happen and he’ll lose one or both of them. But at least it’s regular-terrified, unlike the rest of them.

Theo- I Don’t Want To Lose You

Request- This is the 4th blog I’ve requested this on but can you write an imagine where the reader and Theo have been dating for a little over a year and she finally finds out what’s happening and they have a very emotional moment and he actually fell in love with her so he tries to fix his mistakes to prove to the reader he actually loves her and the pack is all surprised and stuff? Can you also try to make it long? Thanks lovely!! ❤️ 

A/N- No problem sweetie! I hope it’s long enough for you :) Next up is a pack imagine. 

Theo Raeken was probably one of the most conniving, manipulative and vile people to ever walk through Beacon Hills. He didn’t have to hear it from other people, he already knew, and since the moment he had stepped into this town, his one goal was to find a pack of his own.
Scott’s pack was perfect, and Theo was determined to stop at nothing to take it for himself, even if it meant Scott had to die. He had worked with the dread doctors, infiltrated the pack, and everything was going according to plan-except for one thing.
When he had originally come to Beacon Hills, Theo had needed a way into the pack. He had helped Scott out a few times, but he knew it wasn’t enough to guarantee the whole pack’s trust. You were the perfect solution. Being the sweet and caring person that you were, you immediately sympathized with Theo.
While he had used you as a way to get into the pack, he never expected that he would actually develop sincere feelings for you, let alone fall totally in love with you. He had never intended to fall for you, but you were so beautiful and such a good person that he just couldn’t help himself.
Now here you were, curled up against him on his couch almost a year later as you watched some predictable romantic comedy. He had one arm tightly wrapped around your shoulders as you leaned against his chest, your cheek pressed into the fabric of his shirt.
You sighed sleepily, your eyes beginning to flutter as you started to drift off to sleep. You knew you were supposed to be spending time together, but Theo was so warm and you were so sleepy. You were just started to drift off when you felt Theo shift beside you.
“Y/n?” he whispered.
“Mm?” you murmured, not opening your eyes.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” he told you. “I didn’t want to wake you up if you fell asleep.”
“Sorry,” you muttered, moving away from him and rubbing your sleepy eyes. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”
“It’s okay,” he told you, rising from the couch. “I’ll be right back.”
He disappeared down the hall and you sat up, peering around the living room. You caught sight of the clock on the the cable box, realizing how late it was. You looked at your phone, making sure there were no missed calls or texts from your parents. Not that they would mind if you were with Theo. They loved him almost as much as you did.
You heard a sound coming from the kitchen, shooting a look over your shoulder. Theo’s parents were on vacation for the week so you knew it couldn’t be them, and you rose from the couch to go investigate.

Theo walked back into the living room, his brow furrowing when he realized you weren’t on the couch anymore.
“Y/n?” he called, peering around the room.
He walked down the hall, going into the kitchen and calling out for you once more. “Y/n are you-”
As he walked around the corner, he got a full view of the kitchen, and what he saw nearly cause his heart to stop. You were standing there, an expression of utter terror on your face as one of the dread doctors had its arm wrapped around your throat.
“Let her go,” Theo ordered immediately.
“You have not been reporting to us lately,” The doctor said, ignoring Theo’s demand.
Theo swallowed, taking note of the sudden increase in your heart rate. He knew you were going to find out what he had been doing, and he knew you would hate him for it. But no matter what you thought of him, he couldn’t let that thing hurt you.
“I’ve been busy,” Theo said through gritted teeth. “I told you I needed time to get you what you want.”
“You wanted a pack,” the thing reminded him. “You do not get that without helping us.”
“I will,” Theo swore, his tone becoming frantic as your face started to get redder and redder. “Just let her go and I will.”
Despite the fact that the breath was leaving your body, alarms were going off in your head. You realized Theo was working with them and that he had been the whole time. That meant that everything-every touch, every kiss, every moment you and Theo had shared had all been nothing more than a carefully crafted lie.
“Get us what we want,” the doctor ordered Theo. “Or we will take everything from you.”
With that, the doctor released you, letting you spill to the floor as it exited through the back door. You collapsed onto the floor, your palms slamming onto the linoleum as you desperately sucked in air.
“Oh my god, Y/n,” Theo breathed, kneeling beside you. “Are you alright?”
“Don’t touch me,” you ordered breathlessly, scrambling away from Theo.
“Y/n, please-”
“Don’t,” you spat. “You’re a liar. Everything you said to me, everything you did was a lie. I trusted you, and you’re helping them!”
You pushed yourself up off the ground, backing away from Theo as he tried to get near you. “Just-just leave me alone,” you said.
Theo took a step forward, not being able to ignore the way you flinched when he did. He froze, feeling sick to his stomach as he realized you were afraid of him. He slowly backed away, holding his hands up in surrender.
“I won’t hurt you,” he told you honestly. “Y/n, please you have to believe me. I would never hurt you. I love you.”
Theo had said those words to you a thousand times before, but now there was something different about them. They were desperate and urgent, like you believing him was the most important thing you could possibly do. You wanted so badly to-to have some reassurance that everything that had happened between you two was more than just a clever lie. But Theo had fooled you once, and you would be damned if you let him do it again.
“Why should I?” you demanded, tears starting to form in your eyes. “Was any of it real?”
“Yes!” he cried, his green eyes wide and desperate.
“Then you better tell me which part,” you ordered, your voice becoming wobbly. “You have ten seconds, or I’m walking out of here right now and you’ll never see me again, Theo.”
Theo took a deep breath, realizing you were deadly serious. He desperately wanted to lie to you, to tell you that he had no idea what the dread doctor had been talking about. But the reason he was about to lose you was because of a lie, and he knew he couldn’t keep it up any longer.
“I came here looking for a pack,” Theo started, too ashamed to meet your eyes. “I wanted to get in good with Scott and-and you trusted me so I thought that maybe if I dated you…”
He heard your sharp intake of breath, his eyes immediately flicking up to meet yours. They were filled with hurt, and he felt even more awful than he already did.
“It’s not what you think,” he said quickly. “At first, I only dated you because I wanted to be a part of the pack, but then I realized I actually liked you. I wanted to break up with you, but it was too late. I was already falling in love with you.”
You eyed him, taking in his broken eyes and painful expression. It seemed like he was telling you the truth, but you couldn’t be sure. You had been dating him for almost a year and you had never suspected a thing. Could you really trust your own judgement?
“You don’t have to believe me,” he told you. “But it’s true. I was helping the dread doctors because they promised me a pack. I didn’t realize what they would do to all those kids. I didn’t know they would kill all those people. By the time I realized I didn’t want to help them anymore I was too far in to get out. I didn’t know what to do, Y/n. I still don’t know what to do, but I do know that I love you and I don’t want to lose you.”
“Okay,” you whispered, going against your better judgement.
“What?” Theo asked.
“You don’t have to lose me,” you told him. “But we’re going to Scott. You’re going to tell him everything, and you’re going to tell him how the hell we can stop people from dying.”
Theo nodded, stunned that you weren’t actually walking out on him. “Of course.”
You sighed, wiping your moist eyes and turning towards the door. “Come on. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”

“Hey, Y/n will you come help me with the cake?” Stiles called, popping his head out of the kitchen.
“Sure,” you told him, rising from one of Derek’s old couches.
“Don’t go,” Theo murmured, pulling you back down next to him and burying his face in your hair.
You laughed softly, rubbing his back. “I’m just going to help Stiles. I’ll be right back I promise.”
You pulled away, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips and finally getting off the couch. Theo watched you walk into Derek’s kitchen, a smile on his face as you went to go help Stiles with Lydia’s birthday cake.
It had been three months since Theo had come clean about his association with the dread doctors. With all the information Theo had provided, Scott and the rest of the pack were able to defeat them and save about thirty lives in the process. It took a long time for them to trust him again, but it was worth it.
He finally felt like he was an actual human being, not some monster who let innocent people die. He had made mistakes, ones that some might see as unforgivable, but you loved him enough to forgive him. In the end, that was what made everything worth it.

'I went with Hinata some time ago...just having Sakura switch over to Naruto would make her a cruel woman [towards Hinata]’

Sakura’s feelings

This is just a few of them, but Sakura in many ways has shown growth in personality as well as maturity. Like Sai said once, ‘Sakura isn’t a child anymore, she can see what is right and wrong’. The Sakura you see above,strong-minded and full of light would not have tried to be with Sasuke again. It was Kishimoto’s illogical decision to make this brilliant woman revert to a character that she worked hard to change.

I understand Sakura is a kind, caring and selfless woman and if she refused to confess or accept Naruto’s confession, why was there a need to put her with a man who’s caused her a lot of pain?

I could come up with 100 ways where Naruto, Sakura and Hinata would be in character and at the same time, happy.

Naruto’s feelings

Well, Naruto’s feelings just got trashed, didn’t they. The fact that Kishimoto had to make a movie to fill in for the lack of development, contradicts the fact that he 'planned to go with Hinata since some time ago’.

If Naruto was anything like Jiraiya, Minato or Obito, he would have never given up on Sakura. Sakura did nothing to Naruto that made him unfall for her so i don’t care what anyone says, Naruto will always love Sakura. The Naruto, i know, would never give up, he’d cherish her and shower her with the love and respect that she deserves because that’s part of Naruto’s nindo.

Hinata’s feelings 

Thanks Kishimoto, you have made those comments true when everyone said ‘Hinata’s main purpose in the anime is to be with Naruto’ you really appreciate women, don’t you?

This is what confirmed to me that Hinata is CAPABLE of letting Naruto be with the woman he loves:

I honestly did try to like Hinata- she was mature in the scene above and that speech to Naruto was wonderful but I cannot ignore the fact that Hinata is a woman who just wanted to be with this one man and literally had her life centred towards him. I pity that and wish Kishimoto made her character better than that because there’s more to life than a man. Her dialogue should not have been Naruto-kun 90% of the time. 

This is why i think Sakura made the better heroine. She thought of the entire world, protected those she loved, worked harder to catch up to her team members, and trusted Naruto. She was NOT ’wholeheartedly’ all about Sasuke. Saying that completely disrespects her and she didn’t deserve to end up with the man who hardly ever loved her, hurt her, called her useless and tried to kill her. Gee, what a satisfying ending for Sakura.

Sexism

Not only did Kishimoto make Narusaku tragic but he introduced a whole feminism argument along with it. I used to defend Kishimoto with this because he created a badass female character until he ruined her character. Women like Sakura and Hinata are NOT  defined by a man.It doesn’t teach me anything that Sakura went with a man who just hurt her (i have parents who are remind me of Sasusaku- my father expects an unconditional love from my mother and she has dealt with my father’s abuse for like 20 years and only now has she realised that this was all a big mistake). I hate unconditional love- it’s not healthy and it should not be taught. There is a limit for everything. I’m not saying to be unforgiving, but what people should do is walk in the direction that progresses your future and makes you happy. Move forward, not back. This is all called being realistic not pessimistic.

Hinata’s new name is naruhina. Hardly anyone solely cared for the poor girl, she was always merged with Naruto. I do blame Kishimoto for this. Even when Naruto wasn’t there, Hinata would be shown constantly thinking about him. She’d train while she thought of him. Naruto being motivation is completely fine but once again there is a limit. No woman should be written where she’s bound to a man and there’s no thinking beyond that. 

Yep, it’s obvious that you went with Hinata some time ago

Sakura’s unresolved feelings could NOT have been resolved by seeing Sasuke for a day and Naruto’s strong love for Sakura could NOT have been broken through a movie involving Hinata.

Kishimoto obviously made Naruto and Hinata very very clear and gave us all of this:

Double Standards

Naruto let the woman of his dreams go thinking she’ll be happier which will make him happy. Obviously Hinata can’t do this, she’s allowed to never give up on her love and fight until Naruto loves her back (…no one cares who Naruto truly loves).

Sakura selflessly cannot confess to Naruto or show that she has a switch of heart because that would be cruel. Of course, it’s okay for Naruto to do that. This makes me believe that Kishimoto never gave a damn about Sakura.

Just why

It’s like Kishimoto did this all unconsciously. You don't make chapters worth of development leading two characters together and then pull a 180. Seriously, no one is dumb enough to do that. If Kishimoto was having that much difficulty with the romance, he should have kept all the characters single and made an ending like Bleach. It’s not our fault that Kishimoto wasn’t organised enough with his manga.

I understand that it’s his manga but honestly, what was the point in Naruto loving Sakura, what was the point in those panels where Sakura deeply cared for Naruto, what was the point in the promise of a lifetime, what was the point in making Naruto and Sakura so compatible, what was the point in Minato/Kushina’s comments, what was the point in that confession and Sai’s explanations, what was the point in Sasuke nearly killing Sakura, what was the point of Karin loving Sasuke so much, what was the point in all those dates Naruto and Sakura went on, what was the point in Sakura’s personality development if she was just going to end up with Sasuke, what was the point in giving us all those parallel ships when none of them shadowed naruhina, why didn’t Naruto reciprocate Hinata’s feelings after her confession, why make all the Naruto and Sakura foreshadowing, what was the point in those Road to Ninja moments, why did the databook point towards Naruto and Sakura, why would you make them go on dates, what was the point in other characters thinking Sakura is Naruto’s girlfriend, why was Sakura told that the man she loves must be a great man, why did Hinata smile when Sakura hugged Naruto. There’s just too much. Please, Kishimoto, answer all of these questions because you’ve truly created a tragedy. It might not matter to you, but me and many fans have invested so much emotion and we deserve a valid explanation to why Naruto and Sakura absolutely couldn’t work out for you.

Overall

Naruto and Sakura have something special that even Kishimoto cannot take away. These two are happy in another universe being themselves and being free.

Roses


“Seriously? Him?!”

Your brow drew together in frustration, a distinct crease forming on your forehead.

“Don’t be like that, _______.” the woman before you scolded, “He’s only here for a few days. It would be rude if we didn’t visit.”

“Why should we?” you scoffed, looking away.

“You haven’t seen him almost ten years! Don’t you miss your old friend?”

“Friend?” you narrowed your eyes, “Sehun was never my friend, Umma.”

The tall woman sighed, pressing her painted red lips together in a thin line, “Enough of that. You were kids. Let bygones be bygones.”

“I am,” you frowned, “That’s why I don’t wanna go.”

“Do you want to go overseas next year?”

“Umma-”

“Then you’ll do this for me, ok? And be nice.”

You screeched to a stop, almost colliding with the door before you. Your mother turned to you, fixing a stray strand of your hair.

Be nice. Okay?”

You nodded, gritting your teeth as she rang the doorbell. Almost too quickly, the door swung open, revealing a woman just slightly older than your mother. She grinned, pulling the both of you inside eagerly.

“I’m so glad you could make it,” she kissed your mother on the cheek, “Have a seat, please.”

You dragged your feet to sun room on the right, collapsing onto the floral printed settee. The two older women sat opposite you, folding their legs elegantly. You eyed your mother, hesitantly crossing your legs at the ankles.

“You’ve grown so much, _______-ah.”

You forced a smile, “Thank you.”

“So has Sehun, you know.” his mother sighed. “It feels like just yesterday you two were playing in the yard together.”

“Where is he? We wanted to see him before he went back to Seoul.” your mother asked.

As if on queue, the pattering of footsteps sounded from the stairs in the hall. You turned to the entrance of the room, your eyes instantly falling on another pair, bright and familiar. You held in your breath.

“Annyeonghaseyo.” he bowed his eyes flitting from yours to your mother’s and back.

This was not the Sehun you knew. The Sehun you remembered was chubby, with cheeks the size of golf balls. His eyes were wide and his lips were thin and grinning. He had a habit of picking his nose, and cried whenever he fell down. This Sehun, on the other hand, was tall, nearly six feet, if your eyes served you correctly. His cheeks were slim and his jawline was defined.  He had a habit of biting his lips, and seemed to have a constant frown plastered on his face. His eyes, although essentially the same, were heavily hooded and suggested something you didn’t entirely want to understand. You weren’t sure yet exactly what you felt about this Sehun.

“_______, aren’t you going to greet him?”

You blinked, glancing at your mother. “R-right.”

You stood up, clutching the hem of your dress and bowed to the boy. As you erected yourself, you caught his eyes, glancing, of all places, down your chest. Your face grew hot as you ducked your head, staring blankly at the floor.

“It’s been a while since you’ve seen each other hasn’t it?” one of them asked. It was strange, you thought, how both the women’s’ voices seemed to blend together.

“Why don’t you take her to your room, Sehun? You should catch up.”

“Neh,” he turned, not even sparing a glance your way as he strolled back up the stairs.

You breathed a heavy sigh, dragging your feet along the wood as you followed. Suddenly, you seemed to miss the old Sehun.

**********************

You glanced at the clock. 6:25

Twenty minutes. It had been twenty minutes since you sat down on the edge of his bed and the atmosphere hadn’t eased even a bit. Your eyes wandered over the room, attempting to occupy yourself.

The bedroom was small and fairly empty. A mini TV hung on the wall opposite the twin sized bed you sat on. Across from you, right beside the door, was a desk and office chair, on which Sehun sat, his eyes glued to the screen of his phone. You rubbed your hands along your knees, watching him awkwardly.

“How long are you gonna stare for?”

You blinked, almost jumping at the sudden question. “What? I w-wasn’t-”

“Like what you see?” he glanced up, an annoying playfulness in his eyes, “You’ve been missing out, huh?”

“Please” you scoffed, crossing your legs as you looked away, “Don’t flatter yourself. I was just wondering how you turned out like that.”

“Like what?”

“You know.”

“No, I don’t.” he slipped his phone back into his pocket, leaning forward, “Like what?”

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2

“It’s unforgivable,

I stole and burnt your soul,

‘Cause that’s what demons do,

They rule the worst in me,

Destroy everything,

They bring down angels like you”