Imagine Bucky sneaking into your room in the middle of the night. He’s been going through a phase of particularly awful nightmares, and you told him he could come cuddle in your bed if he ever needed to. He’s so quiet, he doesn’t even wake you up - he tip-toes over to your bed and slides under the covers. His metal arm glides under your pillow as he pulls you closer to him, spooning you from behind. His heart rate slows by just being near you, and he drifts off to sleep.
Honestly FUCK anyone who says you’re too sensitive; if it hurts you then it fucking hurts you & you should never feel like apologizing for getting your feelings hurt. If somebody hurts you and says you’re overreacting, it means that they don’t care enough to take responsibility for their actions. And they can go to hell with it.
Imagine your boyfriend, Luke, telling you he loves you for the first time. You were making lunch for each other when he saw you cut his sandwich down the middle instead of diagonally. He asked where his lunch was - you must have made this one for the puppy, as any sandwich cut down the middle was not fit for human consumption. You tease him back with, “What if I never cooked for you again?” to which he replies, “Well, what if I love you?”
Andrew nodded slowly at the hand hovering above his right thigh. Neil hummed a content sound and Andrew watched as Neil slid his hand across Andrew’s bare leg, pleased. It was on days like these, hot and sticky and humid, that Andrew’s thick thighs chafed terribly. Andrew’s pale skin was splotchy and red and he thought them nothing beautiful, yet Neil never seemed to express displeasure with Andrew’s portly body. Neil touched Andrew like he had been crafted delicately, like the reddened skin of his inner thighs was just another thing Neil loved about him.
“Even more disgusting than your neck fetish,” Andrew said, his words getting caught in his mouth at the sight of Neil pressing a small, gentle kiss to the spotty red on Andrew’s flesh. Somehow, Andrew found his voice again, “is your obsession with my thighs.”
“You like it,” Neil stated, his words mirroring something he had said not long ago. “I like that you like it.”
“We regret to inform you that your book is not what we are looking for right now.”
“It’s okay. Not as good as what you made me read last time.”
“Yeah, but why did you change the ending? I liked it better before.”
“This feels so familiar, are you sure you haven’t made me read this part already?”
If you haven’t heard this sort of feed back before, you will. Let’s face it. Not everything we put out there is going to be good. Not every change is going to be for the better. Not every baby is a winner. Negative feedback is something every creative person has to deal with at some stage. Especially if they want to have a creative career. Even if you disagree with the person whose feeding you their negativity, even though you know you can’t please everyone… It’s still going to hurt.
Build your thick skin out of small nicks.
Show people your terrible writing, then as you improve, they’ll notice. They will recognise your hard work. If somebody says they don’t want you, prove them wrong. Inspiration to continue can be found in even the most scathing reviews. Every time you acknowledge that you could do better, you do do better. Determination is the backbone of creative endeavours.
Summary: Jefferson is not sure how exactly how to ask Alex if he remembers his past life without seeming insane.
“Are you seriously just gonna walk out of here without asking me?”
Thomas froze, a hand on the edge of a bookcase. Outside, the busy, rainy, city day crashed around them and was completely oblivious to the legends tiptoeing around each other. Inside, the quiet of the library forced both Thomas and Alex to keep their voices down. It was the only way to have a conversation without yelling at each other, they’d found.
Slowly, Thomas turned back. He raised a single eyebrow. “Ask… what?”
Alex snorted, shrugged obnoxiously, and leaned back in his chair so that only the two back legs touched the floor. “Nevermind, man. I’d… well, I assumed you actually had a purpose for meeting with me here.”
“Besides the school project.”
Thomas rolled his eyes and walked back up to the table. “Look, kid. I don’t like you. I don’t want to spend any more time with you than is positively necessary.”
Alex stuck his tongue out (such maturity) and thumped his front chair legs down suddenly. “I’m not a kid, and we’re the same age.”
Thomas glared at him. Alexander Hollins.
Formerly, Alexander Hamilton.
Formerly, his sworn political rival.
Formerly, a royal pain in the backside.
No, scratch that. Continually, a royal pain in the backside.
The Irish Water Spaniel is an example of true canine uniqueness. He is like no other breed in appearance or in temperament. Nicknamed “the clown of the spaniel family,” the Irish Water is one of the finest companions that can be found, indoors or out.
The Irish Water Spaniel is acknowledged to be a very old breed, but as is the case with so many Irish dogs and horses, it is vitally impossible to separate fact from fairy tale, and so the exact date of his origin cannot be firmly established.
His ancestry, like the date of his origin, is also a mixture of fact and folklore. He is believed to be a descendant of old Portuguese water dogs and spaniel root stock that came over to Ireland from the Iberian peninsula when natives of that country conducted periodic raids on Erin’s green shores.
One of the chief pioneers of the breed was Justin McCarthy. He owned the great dog, “Boatswain,” who sired many fine Irish Waters until his death at age eighteen.
The Irish Water Spaniel was introduced to the United States long before the establishment of the American Kennel Club and was, for many years, the most popular of the retrievers. The breed owed his popularity to its favour among market hunters. Before the turn of the century, when waterfowl were far more plentiful than at the present day, market hunting was a thriving industry and the hard-working Irish Water Spaniel was the gunner’s right arm. This dog would not let a single cripple get by him and, due to his size, strength, and great heart, he could go all day long without tiring.
Today the Irish Water Spaniel’s popularity has waned in favour of Golden and Labrador Retrievers, but he has a loyal group of friends that hold him in the highest esteem and keep him before the dog-minded public.
— Ernest H. Hart, Encyclopedia of Dog Breeds (1968)
BTS REACTION: Their S/O Tells Them About Their Self-Harm
trigger warning: (as you can tell by the title) mentions of self-harm
disclaimer: i do NOT intend to romanticize nor promote self-harm/depression/any other form of the sort in any way
important note: i’m not particularly comfortable talking about my past, but i will admit that i, too, have self-harm scars. in fact, self-harm scars are absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, because though they remind you of the demons you once fought, they also remind you that you have won the battle
do not be afraid to ask for help, and don’t be ashamed to talk to somebody about your problems // i might be a stranger to you all, but my ask box is always open if you want/need to talk, and i’d feel honored to listen
i want to inform y’all of angst, but considering that the topic is already triggering, angst is already implied lol ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
K I M S E O K J I N :
He would check your scars every day. It would become repetitive and annoying, but he didn’t care. Relapsing into self-harm is so easy and recovering is the hardest part. He’d be more cautious with sharp things, as in he’d constantly check if it were in the same place you guys put them after using it. This wouldn’t be because he doesn’t trust you, but because he doesn’t trust the bad thoughts that could possibly lead you to even think about hurting yourself again.
Some nights, while you two are in bed cuddling, he’d just stare at you & feel so proud of you for becoming the strong person you are today. His hands would travel to where your scars were & place a heartfelt kiss on top of it.
M I N Y O O N G I :
After telling him, he wouldn’t say anything at first, but he’d walk off to find a marker. He’d come back with a thick Sharpie and start writing over your scars. This piqued your curiosity to see what the hell he’s doing, but he would cover it up and wouldn’t let you see until he’s finished.
“If you don’t mind me asking…” He’d start, but he bit his lip, unsure whether or not this question would strike a nerve with you. “How long has it been since you last did it?” He’d then ask in a soft voice, as if asking the question any louder would cause you to start crying.
“Um… Well, I lost track,” You admit with a shrug, “I can tell you for sure though, that it’s been a while.” You say, quite proud of yourself.
He smiles, proud of you too. “Good,” He tells you, “And let’s keep it that way.”
He puts the cap back onto the Sharpie and moves back to let you see what he’s drawn on your arm. When you see his name written big and bold all across your skin, you blink and just look at him in confusion, waiting for him to interpret the meaning of this.
“Look, as much as I hate to admit it, I can’t always be there for you 24/7, so instead, whenever you’re at your lowest point & you’re about to hurt yourself again, just look at your scars and remember that I’m on there now, so if you wanna hurt yourself, keep in mind that you’re gonna hurt me too.” He explains, now a bit sheepish after realizing that this might be cheesy.
But that feeling of embarrassment was quickly washed away when you hugged him. You appreciated the incentive he cast on you in order to recover from your past and not fall into the darkness of relapsing.
J U N G H O S E O K :
At first, he’d beat himself up for not being there for you in your darkest moments. He would hate how you seemed like you had no one to turn to for help when he was by your side all along. You two were best friends before forming this relationship, and it made him feel like a shitty friend in the first place when you told him after all these years of knowing each other.
But he’s come to terms with the fact that the past is the past, and there’s nothing he can do about it now. He’s happy that you were able to tell him something as important and to-the-heart as this, and informed you that if you ever feel like relapsing when he’s not there, then you should call his sister or even his parents to help resolve whatever sort of negative feeling you felt.
K I M N A M J O O N :
He’d be so proud of you for being able to tell him this, for he knows that confessing something as deep as this is far worse than confessing to a crush. Whenever you two were apart, as in whenever he has to travel to attend interviews and perform in concerts and whatnot, he would set his phone at the loudest possible volume in the loudest possible ringtone just in case you need him while he’s asleep, and he’d inform you when he can’t be on his phone & when you’re able to call him.
He’d want you to feel like you can rely on him in your time of need, not because he has to do it since he’s your boyfriend, but because he cares for you & loves you with all his heart.
P A R K J I M I N :
The moment you tell him that you used to self-harm, he’d go silent with his mouth slightly agape. The thought of you hurting yourself was just too much for him to take in. Oh, but once you show him your scars, that’s when the waterworks come in for him because that’s when reality kicks in like ‘my baby must’ve felt so lonely, oh my gosh, who would want to hurt her so much to the point of inflicting pain onto herself?’.
He would want you to tell him every story behind each scar, but he would be patient and wait for you to tell him whenever you’re ready, because he knows it’s not easy and that your reasons for self-harming are very personal.
He’s already a sweet and caring person as it is, but at critical times, he would take extra care of you whenever you felt sad & he would be cautious of what he says whenever you two got into a little argument. No matter how many down points you have & how many fights you guys get into, he would never want you to even think about relapsing ever again.
K I M T A E H Y U N G :
He would be so hurt at the mere thought of you self-harming in the first place, so telling him that you used to self-harm made him want to treasure you like the angel you are in his life. He would want to protect you from all the bad in this world at all cost. He’d make up for lost time for not being there for you during your down points in life and remind you of how you are such a unique person and tell you all those other comforting words that you were deprived of while you were going through your depression.
The second you show him your scars though, he’d walk up to you and stare at them, unaware that it made you uncomfortable. His fingers would graze over the repaired skin like a ghost, fearing that if he were to touch the scars any harder then it would open up and bleed. Immediately after, he’d pull you into a hug and wouldn’t let you go.
J E O N J U N G K O O K :
He’d be so mad at the world for treating you like shit in your past when you told him you used to self-harm. Though you’ve recovered from trying to hurt yourself, the fact that you had wounds from battling your demons kept on reminding him that he couldn’t do anything to help anymore. There’s no doubt that he’s happy, so proud of you for being able to stop yourself from any more urges to hurt yourself, but he regrets not meeting you earlier and helping you through your hard times.
The moment you show him the scars, he would go up to you and place a kiss on top of each scar he sees. Turning back time is impossible, so to make up for his absence of when you went through your hard times, he’ll place a kiss over each one of your scar to symbolize that though he couldn’t be there for you back then, he’s making it a promise to be there for you now and forever.
hmm. well, i can’t say i’m proud of this, but at the very least, i’m satisfied // i might come back to this one & change it up, but idk, it feels a bit too soft & cheesy for my liking
tell me what you think !! request something !! send me a message !! read my other works on my masterlist !!
Phresine was the first to know. Even before the queen herself
realized, her head attendant had recognized the signs. She then
approached the queen and gently informed her. To Attolia’s
embarrassment, her legs went weak like a young girl’s, and it was all
she could do to slowly sit instead of dropping heavily into a chair.
This is the only way I can remember Kanji readings or meanings that I keep forgetting. Writing them on an A3 paper with a thick marker (feels nice), writing down compound words with Kanji I already know and hanging the thing on my wall
I´ll list the Kanji plus meaning and a compound word for the reading
I was so pumped to get this story out and here we go, folks. No turning back from here.
Part 3: Putting the Pieces Together But Missing the Big
The obsidian would be the hard part of rebuilding the
portal. Obsidian, Jeremy would come to learn, was one of the hardest materials
on the planet. It was formed when lave met water, the forces combining until
nothing was left but coarse black rock. The only way it could be mined was with
a diamond pickaxe. Diamond. Where was
Jeremy going to find that? Not only were diamonds extremely hard to find,
crafting a diamond anything would also be difficult to manage. It was
technology orderlies had discovered. They were expert forgers on their own
without any magic. Witches didn’t see any use in orderlie technology, not when
they had magic. It seemed like he’d have to reach out. Or …
He could just make it himself. It was just equal parts water
and lava, right? How hard could that be?
I have read Thick as Thieves. I have thoughts. Not spoilery for the books really, just something about Megan Whalen Turner’s writing style that occurred to me as I was reading the latest in the Queen’s Thief Series. (Which if you haven’t read for some bizarre reason: WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?)
I think I have figured out what it is that I love so much
about Megan Whalen Turner’s books. I mean, obviously they are very, very well
written and plotted, and have really amazing world building. But the thing is,
I think MWT writes like a fanfiction author.