this has been sitting in my drafts so i figured i should post it

Touch Starved Tony

This is the first draft, I might so a full rewrite of it eventually and post it on AO3, but for now have some Ironhawk fluffiness.

Tony Stark was a genius practically from birth, put in the spotlight by both association and skill. Nobody was surprised when the rich boy started sleeping around with college kids years older than he was.

Tony remembers being 4 years old, circuit board grasped in tiny fingers. He remembers his father’s arm around his shoulder.

He remembers being 6 an engine on the counter, and his father’s hand on his shoulder, a smile on his face. He remembers Jarvis, and a lot of hugs.

Then he remembers boarding school. Remembers kids’ years older than him who only ever reached out to remind him that he was weakest among them. He remembers teachers who sneered when he corrected them.

He remembers Christmas break and the first hug he’d had in months. He remembers every Christmas break after that and the warmth of Jarvis arms.

He remembers Obie’s hand on his shoulder the day his parents died. He remembers thinking that he would never get a hug from Jarvis again.

He remembers having sex for the first time, he didn’t know her name, heck he barely knew his own name. But he remembered the feel of her skin against his.

He remembers the day he realized people only touched him when they wanted something. With women it was either sex or money, with Obie it was new weapons, and more professional behavior. He remembers realizing that he didn’t particularly care what they wanted if he got even a second of contact.

He remembers the day he realized that Rhodey didn’t hug him with intent. He remembers the day Rhodey shipped out for the first time.

He remembers a string of one night stands and the feeling of flesh on flesh. The feeling of warmth.

He remembers the day he returned from Afghanistan and realized that with the open vulnerability sitting in his chest sex wasn’t an option anymore.

He remembers dancing with Pepper. Remembers holding her in his arms. He remembers letting her go when she asked him to.

He remembers killing Obie, remembers knowing the man had tried to kill him. He remembers mourning the side hugs, and encouraging pats on the shoulder.

He remembers the day the Avengers agreed to move in.

“Jarvis, Jarvis, are all of their rooms ready? The passive surveillance is all set up so they don’t get uncomfortable? And Steve’s is all retro? Natasha has the memory foam bed right? She said she liked memory foam. Do you think they’ll like it?” Tony babbles, he hasn’t slept in three days, ever since they agreed to move in. He had to get everything ready.

“Of course, Sir. All of that has been completed. I am sure they will love it.” Jarvis assures him. Tony nods, trying to settle, hands flying up to fix the mess his hair has become. “Good, good, do I need to shave? I should shave.” He heads for the elevator, fingers tracing over the messy ages of his beard.

“Sir, this is not a date I do not believe shaving is necessary.” Jarvis cuts in, halting Tony on his path to the elevator. “Also, your guests are here.”

“They’re here! Jarvis why didn’t you tell me? Take me down to the lobby to get them.” He spends the elevator ride trying to fix his hair, it doesn’t seem to have done much good.

“Hello Mr. Stark, thank you for inviting us.” Steve says, hefting his duffle bag up on his shoulder.

“It’s no problem, and please Cap, call me Tony.” He says, gesturing for them to board the elevator.

“Still, nice of you to open your home to us.” Natasha says, smiling at him. Her eyes are searching though. Most likely for a motive.

“It’s not just my home now, it’s yours too.” He says, shrugging. Natasha elbows Clint in the least subtle way possible, and Tony watches, mildly impressed as he manages to keep hold of his boxes.

“Oh yeah, thanks dude.” Clint says, peeking out from behind a stack of boxes with Natasha’s careful script on them. “Okay, Natasha, you’re on floor 74. Clint you get 75, they do connect at multiple points and you can feel free to share space.” Tony says, hitting the necessary buttons and gesturing to the eye scanner. “Steve, you’re on 76, and I’m saving 77 for your friend.”

“Tony, we don’t need whole floors.” Steve protests. Looking at his duffle bag Tony suspects that is true, he’ll need to buy the man some clothes and things.

“Speak for yourself Rogers.” Clint says, elbowing the super soldier in the side. It probably hurt his elbow more than it did Steve, but it gets his point across. Tony elects to ignore both of them.

“Brucie-bear, you have 78, although the hulk room expands into 79. I put your lab on your floor because I figured it would be more comfortable.

“Thor gets 79, since he’ll be here the least he shouldn’t mind the loss of space. Common areas are on floor 80, and the penthouse is obviously mine. 81 through 84 are set up for Sam Wilson, guests, more guests, and Rhodey respectively.” Tony explains. “If you need anything from Jarvis you will have to enter the elevator or a common area, as I have set your rooms to passive surveillance only to avoid any discomfort you may feel.” The elevator stops and the doors slide open to reveal Natasha’s floor.

“No Jarvis beyond this point, but there is a top of the line security system so please try not to break any windows.” Tony says, stepping aside, Clint gets off the elevator while Natasha picks up her own stack of boxes and follows him.

It takes an hour to get everyone settled in. Steve thanks him profusely, and talks about how his floor is too much. Bruce thanks him quietly and disappears into his rooms. Natasha calls him kitten in Russian and smiles at him before disappearing into her rooms with a comment about dress shopping.

“Stark!” Clint is bouncing on the balls of his feet when Tony knocks on his door to check on him. “Stark! You built me an archery range on my floor? You are the absolute best!” For a moment, it looks like he’s going to hug him, and then there’s a warm weight of Clint’s hand on his shoulder for half a second. “God, I am never leaving this tower.”

“Glad you like it.” Tony says, trying to ignore how warm his shoulder feels. Trying to ignore how his heart is beating against his ribs. It’s been almost three months since he’s seen Rhodey, and therefore three months since someone has touched him in a friendly way. It feels better than flying in the suit ever does.

He’s not surprised with the lack of physical contact from the others. They were busy moving in, and he knows they all have their own hang-ups. It’s really not a big deal. He’s working on new armor for Steve now anyways, so maybe he can get a hug or something after.

“Stop kidding yourself Stark.” He grumbles, glaring at his reflection in the mirror. There are dark circles under his eyes, it’s probably time he actually gets some sleep. “They won’t want you. Not a team player, remember? Fucking talking to yourself in the bathroom mirror, no wonder you only have three friends.” He sleeps until well into the next afternoon, and then disappears into his lab.

“Sir, Captain Rogers is asking for you. He says the team wants to do dinner tonight in the common room.” Jarvis informs him.

“They want me to come?” He asks, there’s no one here but Jarvis and still the caution creeps into his voice. He can’t help but hide hope behind an air of nonchalance.  

“Of course, Sir.” Jarvis says. Steve had asked him to tell Tony to come, they clearly wanted him there.

“Tell Cap I’ll be there.” He says, hiding a smile in his work.

He goes to team dinner, and the next one, and training. He tries to live off of awkward brushes of hands, and sharp kicks for practice. He reminds himself that just because they are here, doesn’t mean they’ll like him. They don’t owe him hugs.

Tony was fine, really. Completely, and totally fine.

He finishes the first round of upgrade and eagerly calls them to the lab.

“I made things!” He says, a new quiver clutched in his hands. He’s practically vibrating with excitement, hugs are a relatively normal part of gratitude he could get a hug.

“Is that a quiver?” Clint asks, Tony hits the button on the side there’s a noise as the arrow head is attached. “Shit automated, what a beaut.” Tony blushes, handing it over. Clint snatches up his bow, practically running for the range. No hug. Tony turns to Natasha.

“Upgraded widow bites with stun, knock out, kill, and Thor settings.” He offers, holding them out to her, she grins at him, taking them from his hands.

“Thanks Stark.” She winks at him as she stalks out of the room. “These will be so useful.” She doesn’t hug him on the way out.

“Steve, new body armor. Less ab plating more protection.” He explains, holding up the new and improved suit. “Also, less zippers, that look was so nineties Steve you don’t understand.” Steve smiles at him.

“No, I don’t, but I appreciate the new suit all the same.” He says, Tony beams at him. Steve claps a hand on his shoulder as he leaves. Tony tries to pretend the warmth is enough. Revels in the feeling from that small touch. It’s not enough, maybe if he makes them more gear.

“You look tired Tones, maybe you should get some rest, you can show me Hulk’s gift tomorrow.” Bruce offers, he’s so kind. If Tony looked bad enough he might help him to bed, hold onto him. It would be nice.

“Yeah, I’m going to go to bed.” He mumbles, the pattern continues. Tony remains cold, and untouched.  They fight bad guys, they eat dinner, and nobody hugs Tony.

The suit was gone, ripped off in the battle. He was beaten up, a little bloody but still standing when the witch landed in front of him, lobbing a ball of what he presumed was magic at his chest.

“Let’s see how the world likes you when your deepest desires spill from your lips. How will they feel knowing how perverted you are?” They asked, Tony’s jaw ticks as he clenches it shut. The witch disappears.

“Your darkest desire, huh Stark?” Clint teases. “Can’t be too bad. Want to sleep with a man? Want to kill someone on the team? Want to kill one of the villains we fight?” Tony’s vibrating with frustration, desperately trying to remain silent.

“Clint, stop.” Natasha scolds. “Your desires aren’t you as a person, no matter how dark we won’t blame you.” She assures him, standing on the rubble strewn street. Tony turns wide eyes to Steve and Bruce.

“We won’t.” They assure him. He relaxes his shoulders slightly, his mouth parting against his will.

“I want a hug. Please, I just, I just want a hug.” He begs, face flushing with embarrassment. It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Tony’s head drops, eyes tearing up. “I understand. I know it’s weak, I’m sorry.”

“A freaking hug is your darkest desire?” Clint blurts out, taking a step towards him. Tony nods miserably. “A goddamn hug? How are you so good?” Tony finds himself wrapped in strong arms a moment later. “A goddamn hug.” Clint grumbles.

“I know it’s weak, and stupid. I’m sorry.” Tony whispers, he knows he should pull back, but he lets himself slump against Clint’s shoulder. Let’s himself be held.

“Shut up. You’re goddamn perfect. Your darkest desire is a hug Tony. That’s so ridiculously pleasant.” Clint grumbles, nuzzling into Tony’s hair.  

“It’s so dumb, you guys don’t owe me anything, I can’t expect hugs. I shouldn’t have. Got my hopes up, cause I’m dumb.” Tony mumbles, hands clenched in the back of Clint’s shirt. “You can let go now, I won’t be a bother.”

“Nope, we’re going back to the tower, and cuddling.” He’s surprised the others haven’t gotten over their shock and come to join the hug yet. “God, how did I not know you wanted hugs, I could have offered non-stop cuddles.” Clint laments. Natasha seems to have gotten over her shock, and she practically sprints over, leaping at them. Tony flinches just before she makes contact wrapping them both in a hug.

“Do not be afraid.” She grumbles. He doesn’t look at her, face still buried in Clint’s shoulder.

“I shouldn’t have assumed you’d want to hug me. Shouldn’t have asked. Don’t deserve it.” Tony mumbles. “Can’t expect hugs as payment. No buying people’s love.” The words come out like a mantra. She whacks the back of his head.

“You assumed I wouldn’t want to hug you idiot, not that I would. There is no harm in asking.” She scolds. Clint nods, puffing a breath of air into Tony’s hair.

“Didn’t want any of you to feel obligated.” He mumbles. Clint’s grip tightens, and he feels Steve and Bruce joining the fray, a warm line of skin across his shoulders and lower back.

“No, Tony. We don’t feel obligated.” Clint assures him. “Just guilty that we missed out on giving you something you need.”

“Don’t need hugs, I’m fine.” Tony grumbles, but he still hasn’t made any move to pull away.

“Shut up.” Natasha grumbles, Bruce nods in agreement, half asleep from the Hulk out. “You need hugs. Don’t worry, we’re happy to provide.” She steps on Steve’s foot when he doesn’t say anything in agreement.

“Of course, Tony, you’re our teammate, and our friend.” Steve says, pulling back slightly. The hug starts to pull apart then, leaving only Clint with Tony wrapped around him like a koala.

“I should let go now.” Tony mumbles, releasing his grip on Clint’s shirt. Clint frowns, they need to get back to the tower, but how to best do that without letting go, he slides his hand around Tony’s waist, hand resting on his hip.

“This okay?” He asks, squeezing gently. Tony nods with such ferocity Clint worries he’ll get whiplash. “Good, let’s get you home for some more cuddles.” Tony nods agreeably.

“Thanks Clint.” He mumbles. “You’re my favorite.” He’s not sure Clint heard, words buried in the archer’s shoulder. The walk home is warm, pleasant, and absolutely terrifying.

They’re almost to the tower before the panic starts to set in, fears arising that this was all just a show, and that once they get inside he’ll be back to feeling cold and alone in a crowded house. Even if it wasn’t a show, he’s clingy, he knows it. They’ll get sick of him.

“To the couch.” Clint announces, pushing Tony down on the cushions, and lying on top of him. The panic recedes. He’s warm, he’s safe he can enjoy this.

Tony is worried that they’ll get tired of how clingy he is, so he has a plan. He gets one hour with them every day and then he needs to either work or sleep. As long as he leaves the room before they get tired of him. It’s a good plan.

“Tony, won’t you hang out for a movie after breakfast?” Clint asks, sliding an arm around his shoulder. Movies are normally at least 2 hours long, which puts him over the hour limit on snuggle time.

“I’d love to.” He admits, “But, I need to work on the suit.” He leans into Clint’s grasp anyways. “I really should work.”

“Yeah.” Clint says. “You can do that after we watch a movie though, right?” Watching movies and cuddling is normal, so maybe he can do two hours a day, and it will be okay.

“Right.” Tony agrees. “I can do that.” Clint might not even want to cuddle anyways. Which would mean it wouldn’t count as part of his hour, it only counts if there’s cuddling, right?

“Awesome, I could use a couple hours of snuggling.” Clint cheers, dragging Tony into the den. Well, if it’s Clint’s idea then he can’t accuse Tony of being clingy right. “You’re so warm, perfect for snuggling.” Tony nods absently.

“You sure?” Tony asks.


He doesn’t make it back to the lab after the movie, Clint slides in another disc and they stay curled up on the couch for hours. As much as Tony wants to say no, wants to make sure Clint doesn’t get tired of his clinginess, he can’t. He can’t say no, not when Clint’s arms are warm around him. He just holds on, waiting for the touching to die down.

He spends months waiting for Natasha to stop hugging him every time she sees him, or Steve to stop awkwardly hugging him when he makes new things. He waits for Bruce to stop inviting him to yoga, and helping him with positions. He waits for Thor to stop greeting him with tight hugs that lift his feet off the ground. He waits for Clint to stop inviting him to cuddle.

He waits for months until he realizes he’s not waiting anymore. He waits until he realizes they aren’t going anywhere.

@ifdragonscouldtalk and @dont-hurt-tony-stark I know you like these, <3

It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

The thing about being somewhat of a “celebrity” is that everyone wants a piece of you. And being in the spotlight comes with the expectation that you owe your fans something in return for their support. Kent loves social media. He loves Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, all of it. Which makes it a little easier to fill that expectation, to give his fans something more than just goals and wins. It certainly makes it easier for him than it is for guys like Jack, who seem to break out in hives just thinking about social media.

Kent’s 1.4 million followers on Twitter, 1.2 million followers on Instagram (2.5 million when you combine his account with Kit’s) and over 800K followers on Snapchat make him one of the most followed athletes in the world. He’s by far the most followed hockey player, with more followers than some of the NHL teams themselves. He keeps all three running pretty well. Mainly because he enjoys it, he loves sharing his life with his fans.

Keep reading

A bunch of Yuzu asks

Anonymous said:

Could you tell us a little about what happened in the 2012-2013 National? I know that Yuzu won, some people did not like it and something made him very upset, but I only know that. I tried to look for some information in the GS but I did not find anything.

I think you summed up the chain of events pretty comprehensively there. It was the first Japanese National title for Yuzu, which did not go down well with some people. Most of those unhappy folks were supporters of Daisuke Takahashi, who was at the time the top male skater in Japan and a very, very popular figure with lots and lots of fans. I did not witness it firsthand, but I heard that those disgruntled fans took it upon themselves to make a ruckus during the medal ceremony. Plus after that there was plenty of talk circulating about how Yuzu’s win was undeserved. All of which, of course, made Yuzu quite depressed. I think I read somewhere that the backlash extended further when he didn’t medal at Worlds that year. His performance at London was affected greatly by his injury, and his comeback free skate was, by all accounts, an extraordinary effort, but well, die-hard fans just can’t be reasoned with.

Anonymous said:

Do you remember your reaction to the cup of china 2014?

Oh my lord, yes, only all too well. I’m actually having the shivers just from typing this. I remember being confused at first and then worried and then full-blown panicked and hysterical as Yuzu kept lying there on the ice and no help seemed to be coming. I remember thinking that it was at the same time one of the bravest and the most foolish things I’ve ever seen when he insisted on skating his program. I remember biting my nails and practically hyperventilating every time he went for a jump. I remember feeling, I don’t know how to describe it, emotionally overloaded, I guess, when I watched him break down in tears at the K&C. 

I remember vividly that it was the day I decided that this incredibly brave and foolish kid is my most beloved athlete on the face of Earth and that I would forever support him in whatever he does.

Even now I still get the anxiety whenever I see him in warm-up. Why did you do this to me, anon, why?

Anonymous said:

yuzu’s 4S is the scariest thing, like you never know when he’s gonna land it, and when he does, it’s so insanely beautiful?? I was rewatching seimei at aci and his 4S combo was so fast his quad looked like a triple???? this isn’t a gif request or anything but I just wanna share my admiration at his speed in the air and I know you’ll get it

I totally agree with every of your points, have gone ahead and make a gifset for it, and have gushed my heart out about it too in a lengthy and largely redundant love letter to His Majesty :D If there’s any positive takeaway from that disastrous free skate at SCAC, I’d say it’s the confidence he seems to have gained on his quad Salchow, or as I like to joke:

that awkward moment when you fell on your best jump popped your second best jump and nailed your least reliable quad 

#just yuzuru things 

Anonymous said:

i feel like yuzu sometimes changes his biellman to an a spin if he’s not doing well in the program? does the biellman take effort apart from flexibility? or does the a spin allow him to think like, oh what should i yolo later   

The Biellmann position is quite taxing on his back and shoulder and Yuzu doesn’t really need it to hit level 4 on his free skate combination spin, so yes, when he doesn’t feel well enough he will skip it. Like at 4CC this year, he said he was feeling a bit stiff, so he didn’t do a Biellmann in either his free skate or the gala after. Another advantage of switching to an A-spin is that it’s an easier position to hold, so it would allow Yuzu to slow down or speed up accordingly to bring his choreography back in sync with the music, in case he missed a beat or two earlier due to a flubbed jump :)

Anonymous said:

I know you mentioned you’re currently working on skating skills/spinning tech posts, so if you kind of cover my question in those, please ignore this ask!! there seems to be a varied consensus on yuzuru’s spins - some say he’s the best in the field at the moment, and I wanted to know if you agree/disagree/other, and if you think his technique has worsened at all in recent years? (thanks for all the magnificent posts btw, i live for them <3)

I wouldn’t say Yuzu is the absolute best spinner in the men’s field right now. He’s one of the best though, that’s for sure :) In a post which has been in my draft since dinosaurs walked the earth, I’m comparing his spins to Jason Brown’s and when I eventually post it (hopefully later today if I manage to make all the gifs I want to make to go with it), you’ll see that my position (no pun intended) is that they’re on the same level.

As to the development of Yuzu’s spin technique over time, I’d like to recycle these gifs:

SP Étude in D-sharp minor, 2011-2012 season:  

SP Let’s Go Crazy, 2016-1017 season:

Doesn’t look like his spin is becoming any rustier with time: flexibility, control, balance, musicality, everything is still there. If anything, he’s been getting better at gaining speed, especially during sit spins, plus both his flying entries and jumps within spins are becoming a lot more stable:

(appreciate also that smooth transition out of the Biellmann - it’s a new feature developed just last season, you know)

seibir  asked:

Could u convince be not to hate Steve 'Hypocrite' Rogers? I'm really trying not to hate him but whnever I think about anything to do with him I just get even angrier at him. MCU Steve is a repentless fuck up and I wanna know what u have to say about him? U don't seem like u hate him and u also love Tony so I figure u probably see stuff I'm not seeing and I wanna know what ;u; (mostly so I can stomach stony fics to widen my range of reading material) :p

steve rogers is a stubborn emotionally-constipated asshole. i also love him very very much. here are some post-cacw thoughts on why i still love him:

  • flawed characters are good, and the only reason we expect Perfection from This Particular Human Character is bc other people (and…the narrative….) put him on a pedestal. I can’t be mad at him for doing what he thought was the right thing, because as a fan of tony stark, i know that sometimes things that seem like a good idea at the time are maybe actually not always that great
  • issue: banking on the fact that your rich genius teammate and his team of lawyers will still get you and your friend out of a bad situation After you let him know that the friend in question murdered his parents a week before christmas and that you’ve lived in his house and looked him in the eye while Knowing Abt This for several goddamn years is uh. a v scary situation and potentially a bad plan for 19 reasons. prioritize the people you know are ride or die & cut ur losses
  • some people are emotionally constipated assholes who do their best and fail miserably,,,,To Cope™
    • ok but seriously have you ever had 6.3 billion Terrible Things happen to you in rapid succession, and then One More Thing comes along (to take away the only remaining thing in your life you can control and the only semblance of normalcy you have left) and you just. dig your heels in automatically and go “absolutely fucking not”
    • like i will personally bet you 5 canadian dollars that steve has been crossing his arms and glaring at the tv for months like “listen what else do they want us to do. we’re helping. we’re the good guys. they Have To See That we’re good people and we’re doing our best and we saved the world Come On if we just wait…maybe…….it will…..Be Fine without us having to do anything? maybe?” 
    • he’s been fighting to keep People™ safe for a While and it’s Apparently still not enough and he is probably tired and bitter and frustrated. also, last time he was working for/with a third party they turned out to be nazis and while i get that that 100% isn’t the same as a UN Panel (noT THE SAME, STEVEN) at some point you have to take a quote out of context, plant urself like a stubborn asshole tree, and say “actually no fuck you please just let me do the only thing that is giving my life meaning right now in a way that doesn’t make me feel trapped and afraid for myself and my team”
  • peggy (steve’s last connection to his life before waking up in the future) had just died, and bucky (steve’s surprise Actual last connection to his life before waking up in the future) has been having a Hell Time and is being targeted. sometimes when you find out your best friend has been brainwashed and tortured for 70 years, your bullshit meter maxes out and you (steve rogers, “fight me” personified) want to give the finger to anyone who wants to do absolutely else to that person. yes, getting him help was an option (the other option being some kind of prison?) but also, it still would have been someone else making that choice for bucky, and at some point yelling “can you please just leave him alone” with ur fists becomes a default reaction
  • as someone who regularly avoids things when i should really deal with them, i 100% believe that there is a large part of steve that genuinely thought he was protecting tony. sure, he was protecting himself and bucky, too, and he admits that openly, but i can buy that steve had been sitting on the couch for months listening to tony talk about Processing His Grief Through Technology and screaming internally like “would it truly and genuinely make it easier on this guy to know that his parents were brutally murdered by my friend and i’ve known abt it for 2 years when he’s still this messed up over it already oh my god”
  • the problems i have with a lot of steve’s choices really just come down to the film not giving him room to put up a legit argument. a lot of it was banking on me assuming that captain america & the team were correct bc they’re cap & the team in a captain america movie? if they had given steve a speech instead of a shitty letter, i’m sure i would have initially understood his side a lot better
  • some people are emotionally constipated assholes who do their best and fail miserably,,,,To Cope™ Part 2: The Letter
    • steve is not great at feelings. steve is not great at processing and expressing his feelings in a healthy way. steve is an all-or-nothing prickly bitch (see: every film he’s been in) and taking these excellent canon facts into account, i do actually genuinely believe that this dude forced himself to sit down while in hiding to write 12 different drafts of this letter by hand in cursive and eventually ended up with the monstrosity tony received
    • he can’t apologize for the accords situation, because he doesn’t think he’s wrong, so he can only apologize for hurting tony. “i’m not sorry for what i did but i’m sorry that it hurt you” is a shitty thing to read and say but i guess at least,,,he,,,was honest? steven why didn’t you get a friend to proofread this letter
    • by saying that the avengers are more tony’s family than his, he probably thinks he’s acknowledging that tony cares about them and was doing what he thought was best. im personally for my own sanity choosing to believe that.
    • “i’ve never really fit in” aka “okay i definitely didn’t talk enough about where i was coming from at all for the past few…..years….and this was the only draft that included my ‘i’ve been lowkey struggling’ admission and didn’t sound vaguely pathetic or directly mention my friend who involuntarily murdered your parents” 
    • this entire thing is actually imo a fairly decent “listen i know things are really messy right now and i hurt you and we’re both still upset, but here’s some effort on my part. if you ever need anything, here’s how you can contact me & i promise i will still drop everything to come help you with what you need” gesture considering the situation & time frame

anyway, steve for sure messed up with his approach to this and put a lot of people in danger, but as someone who is a fan of tony stark i have to take The Context into consideration and also understand that sometimes people do questionable things even while having the best intentions. it was a really rough situation and i think mr evans did a great job of showing steve emotionally shutting down and struggling for the past few films? i can see where he was coming from from an emotional standpoint, & bc of these and 130 other reach-y reasons including me just enjoying him as a person, i forgive him. it’s 2:30am this is so long oh my god

Ten Easy Steps to Mending a Broken Heart (Teaser)

Step One:

Love yourself.

It’s a good idea to remind yourself why you’re awesome, as it helps lift you up when you’re feeling down! Make a list if you have to, and take some time to reflect.

Raven’s body felt like lead as she followed her teammates back into the tower. Today had been a bit of a rough day, and she was really, really looking forward to a nice hot bath.

They’d just dragged Plasmus back to prison, again. Some idiot kept waking him up, despite their best efforts to coordinate with the prison and keep him under lock and key. As a result, each and every one of them got doused in Plasmus’s body goop and stank of trash. Plus, there was the resulting muscle cramps and strains that accompanied any strenuous battle.

So yeah. She really wanted that bath.

“Damn, that was rough,” Cyborg said. He stifled a yawn, the keys jingling in his hands as he turned and locked the T-car. “I’m gonna order some pizza. Y’all in?”

“Nah,” Beast Boy said. “I’m gonna just head to bed.”

His dispassionate voice snagged Raven’s attention, and she felt her chest tighten at the changeling’s drooped ears as he retreated to the elevator. Through her emphatic walls, a trickle of blue haze snaked in, tickling her senses.

This…change…in his demeanor had been the norm as of late. It had come to light as a result of Terra’s supposed reappearance, when he failed to bring her back to the Titans. Raven never learned of exactly what went down between them, but she got the gist of it.

Terra wanted nothing to do with them.

Keep reading

The Riddling Stranger

Originally posted by studycoffeewithme

Another day at the bookshop full of old couples and amazing titles… or so you thought *wink* *wink*

Pairing: Edward N. (The Riddler)
Length: 1,162

You decided to fix up the shop a bit since there were hardly any customers. You walked around the counter and began to pick up books that were on the tables around the shop.You started working here about six months ago and you loved it. The shop was usually filled with old men and women so it wasn’t a stressful job.

But today was going to be different. You were currently at the front of the shop when a nice looking gentleman entered.

“Welcome.” You greeted the stranger with a smile. He nodded and replied with a mischievous smile, “Thanks Miss.” You then turned your attention back to the task at hand but not before you shoot him one last glance.

‘Who is he,’ you thought to yourself. It’s pretty rare to see a young individual in this little book shop so you became a bit curious. You quickly finished picking up books and walked back to the counter and sat on the stool behind the cash register and leaned on the counter as you began to wonder once more about the handsome stranger.

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Hi, Charity! I have been having an identity crisis lately. (Yet another of many in the past year of a lot of self discovery and doubt). I spent quite a while thinking I was either enfp or infp, after retyping myself several times from intp to intj to infj and then xnfp. But recently I became convinced that I am an infj and was right in my typing when I first learnt about the underlying cognitive functions (intx was pretty much just from online tests). I know this sounds very vague so far and I’m not giving any details of why or how.

Hey, Mar.

Wish your e-mail address had worked, so we could have this talk in private. :)

Since you were vague in your descriptions of Ne/Ni, I wasn’t able to tell which one appears to be dominant, but here’s a few thoughts reaped from the post:

I struggle with seeing myself clearly, but I don’t know if it’s because of Fe or because I’ve had a tough family situation growing up where I was basically not allowed to have an identity separate from my caretakers. I am easily swayed by other people’s opinions and start to doubt my convictions but again, don’t know if it’s Fe or poor self-confidence (or both?).

It could be Fe if you allow other people’s emotions to cloud yours, or it could be the Ne-dom problem of being unable to see yourself clearly. Every single Ne-dom I’ve ever known / talked to, myself included, had a hell of a time finding their own type and still cannot see themselves very clearly, because Ne is so busy gaining ‘outside perspectives’ 24/7 and has such poor self-awareness (inferior Si) that it tends to believe whatever idea anyone throws at it about themselves, even if it doesn’t match who they are. The idea just sticks to them and them being a Ne/Si, they cannot properly filter it out (Si: Hey, I’m not like that!).

I could especially relate, among other things, to that sense of impending doom and being stuck in the same situation I am currently in and no hope for a better future. Not being able to imagine a better future for myself and seeing only all the ways in which I am stuck and will be stuck stresses me out quite a lot, actually. Sometimes I obsess over it.

All intuitives feel that staying stagnant is a literal hell, so this could be Ni OR Ne. But Ne/Si tends to have a more generic 'I’m not sure what I want, but this ain’t it and I hope this isn’t all I ever have from my life’ approach and NiSe tends to think, 'it’s time I stop fixating on this single vision and DO SOMETHING TO MAKE IT REAL” followed by fear it may fail and then they’ll have nothing, since no other dream / career / ambition has outlasted this one.

To the point that sometimes I can only find solace in fantasizing about meeting that one person who will save me from my troubles, as unrealistic, unhealthily codependent and disempowering as it sounds.

Free amateur psych advice: other people cannot save you, because other people are just as imperfect as you are. This is common in a fearful N user, who tends to idealize and fantasize about a hero coming to rescue them, because they are so uncomfortable interacting with the sensory world on their own. The answer is that you have to save yourself, since no one else will. :)

An aspect of why I believed myself to be an enfp is that I could relate a lot to your more personal posts (especially about writing) or whenever you’d offer personal examples to illustrate type. Or in doubting my introversion because sometimes I would talk to a person and get so energized by that human connection.

What kind of energy? Emotional (Fe) energy? Or I MET SOMEONE FULL OF GREAT IDEAS AND NOW I’M WIRED (Ne) energy?

Right now I’m in the middle of rewriting a novel. It changes with each draft. People change. Motives change. Ideas change. Hell, I decided to change the murderer because another possibility will clean up the plot better so now I’m having to rewrite entire sections and leave other characters out / fill the holes they leave behind. I’m fine with it. It’s fun and somewhat easy. It energizes me. That’s high Ne. “This was fine last week but now it bores me and I have a better way to approach it, so it’s all gonna change and continue changing until I find something that works.” I sometimes joke that me being me, as a Ne, I’m not ‘done’ with something until I can read it twenty-six times in the editing process without wanting to change something at its fundamental level. I know I found the RIGHT idea, after using and discarding a bunch of alternate possibilities.

(My INFJ friend basically writes her novels in head, figures them all out in advance, then sits down and writes it out and changes very little in revision. Ni.)

I struggle to see if I do actually perceive the emotions of those around me and can easily step into someone else’s perspective and I’m observant of the unspoken agreements in a social situation, or if I’m delusional and I just like to think I’m an empath because it makes me feel better about myself.

Perceiving them (Ne) or feeling them (Fe)? When you are in a group, are you watching people so you can SPECULATE on their emotions (Fi) or are you immersed IN their emotions and sometimes lose yourself in the process (Fe)? Are you GUESSING at their feelings (Fi) based on a sense of inner self (”Are they bored? She looks bored. Can’t other people see she’s bored? I would not want to be bored, so we need to keep her from being bored. How are other people not see this?” Fi thinking can actually mean, “Because this would bore ME, I’m projecting being bored onto her when she’s not actually bored.”)

Side note: intuitives often over-estimate their own skills because their intuition / imagination is fantasizing an ideal self, instead of using their real self. And coming crashing down to earth and realizing they were wrong / are not very good at that / really are not a God is somewhat crushing to their ego.

One thing that really made me lean towards infj as a possibility is realizing that, at least for me, writing is a way of expressing and externalizing my feelings.

Why is this specifically shifting you toward INFJ? INFJs do not have a corner on writing. This is equally if not more common in the INFPs. Every Fi-dom poet of the last five hundred years can testify to externalizing their feels in writing.

MY emotions get so tied up inside myself that until I get them out on paper (Te) I cannot organize them or even figure out how to say how I feel – and that’s crucial, because Fi/Te types may resort to metaphors, ducking conversations, or intense internal monologues that may never be voiced (because it takes time to organize their thoughts before they speak on an emotional level) while Fe/Ti types can usually simply sum up their feelings vocally when asked, since that’s what Fe/Ti does.

So, are you externalizing to get others’ feedback on your feelings and affirmation (FeTi) or are you writing because you know no other clear way to restructure and share your abstract (hard to describe) feelings (FiTe)?

Before, I believed I had Fi because I have strong beliefs about individuality and personal integrity and I passionately hate the kind of group-think that leads to lack of personal integrity in favor of what the majority wants. But at the same time I strongly believe in equality. In fact, I believe what makes us equals is (as corny as it sounds) precisely that we’re all unique and irreplaceable and have a unique purpose for our life, that nobody else could fulfill quite like us.

You should ask yourself: do I pass immediate moral judgment upon hearing new information like a Fi-dom or do I internalize / interact with the ideas before I judge their ethics like a NeFi or do I try and fit the new information into my internal worldview and see how to use it to motivate people in a NiFe way?

Another reason for me thinking Fi is that somewhere along the line I had convinced myself that I hated people and I took on the identity of a misanthrope.

Um. Why would this connect to Fi in your mind?

I have been struggling big time with having too high expectations of myself and with my overall perfectionism, which more often paralyzes me instead of making me work harder. I am studying again after a few years, and the deadlines are just killing me. They feel like life or death. I obviously don’t know how to work with a schedule, I did 90% of the workload of two weeks in the first two days and then felt burnt out and spent the next week and a half distracting myself by researching random non academic stuff just for personal amusement, like mbti and the enneagram, and how to make pumpkin pie, and the relationship between veganism and the tv series Hannibal. Procrastination is definitely something I’m good at. It’s two days before the deadline and I’m struggling with that 10% of work that I haven’t done yet, and after spending the whole day stressing out about it and not being able to write a single sentence of my essay on cave art from the paleolithic, I am writing this instead. At least, just by writing this, I’ve already gained some clarity on what’s going on inside my head, which is always helpful.

I’m 90 pages into a book on perfectionism from a psychological perspective at the moment, but Jordan Peterson has wise words for this sort of behavior: finished is better than perfect.

I too am a perfectionist, but for me it’s more spewing ideas out on the page (Ne) and then anxiously trying to formulate them into some kind of structure that has an overall point (Te) and then agonizing over the details in case I got something wrong that will cause people to throw out my good ideas in favor of the misinformation (low Si) due to Ne placing unrealistic standards on this situation due to being combined with perfectionism, which is fear based (if this isn’t flawless, people will judge it harshly and not listen to what it says).

I’m sorry I could not give your type based on what you wrote, but hopefully I explained enough about my thinking process and gave you good enough questions that you can find your type by being honest about your mental processing leading to behaviors.

- ENFP Mod

Hockey Camp - Auston Matthews (Part 16)

Auston Matthews x Reader

Word Count: 1616

Warnings: None??

A/N: So this story is slowly starting to wind down - I’m nearly at 31k words at this point, and so I think I will try to fit in the rest of what I have planned in the next four chapters! Thank you so very much to all of you who have supported me through this writing process, it’s been a ton of fun, and your enthusiasm has really helped me stay motivated :) hope you enjoy!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15]


“Alright, listen up. This is how it’s gonna go.”

You’re balanced attentively on one knee in front of the coach, along with everyone else. There’s less than one week left of camp, and on the last weekday, the scouts are coming to assess their top picks.

“This Friday is scouting day, as you’re all aware. A very important day, for many of you. The scouting sessions will be divided into boys and girls respectively, and each session will be run as a three-hour event. The first hour will be dedicated to a fitness test, which will examine your standing long-jump, shuttle runs, anaerobic and aerobic fitness, as well as other activities outlined in your dryland training. Afterwards, there will be a two hour break in which you can try to catch your breath,” the coach explains, laughing humourlessly. “And then we’ll move onto our on-ice portion. The first half hour will be dedicated to skating drills, the second to passing and defensive play, the third to shooting and offensive play, and the final thirty minutes will consist of a scrimmage in which you will be divided into teams. These will be posted outside the arena the morning of the event.”

Everyone glances around at each other, curious to know who they will be playing with. But you know even though they may be labelled as your teammates, there will be no friends out on the ice come Friday. This is it. You know the CWHL scouts had shown some interest in you during your past two years in your junior league, but the practice on Friday will make or break their decision to draft you. You have to be the best you had ever been. There were no chances for mistakes.

“Please be aware that there will be representatives from the CWHL, the newly re-formed NWHL, the CHL and AHL, the Swiss National League, and the NHL attending your practices on Friday, and so I expect no foul play. They want to see if you can be the latest addition to their club, and if you are able to play a clean, skilled, and respectful game. If you can do that, and meet the individual requirements for their specific team, then contracts may be offered out to you on Sunday.”

Excitement ripples through the players surrounding you. You’re not the only one with dreams of making it to the professional leagues.

“However, do keep in mind that there are limited spots available in the leagues, and that attending this camp does not guarantee you a spot on any team, or even to be considered for one. If you are not selected this year, we welcome you to attend the tryouts in June to be invited back for next year’s camp. Is that all clear?” the coach asks.

Everyone nods.

“Alright, enough chit-chat. Let’s get to work!” He taps his stick on the ground and everyone scatters, lining up for the regular warm-up drill.

Practice is brutal, and is also forty-five minutes longer than usual, as the instructors agreed that for the next three days, extended ice time was needed to keep everyone sharp for Friday. Dryland follows in the same manner, and you’re pushed to your limits - both physically and mentally.

When the day is finally done, you’re soaked in sweat, hair plastered to the back of your neck, and face red from exertion. Auston is much the same, and the two of you collapse next to the hose beside the changerooms.

“I don’t think I’m going to make it to Friday,” Auston groans, leaning his head back against the wall.

You laugh, stretching out your sore legs in front of you. “It’s been awful. But just think, on Thursday, we get a break.”

He looks over at you dubiously. “Maybe for everyone else, but I’d bet Mitch’s car that you’ll be doing sprints out on this field while the rest of us are sleeping.”

You grin. “You’re right - almost. I’ll be doing sprints, but don’t think I won’t be dragging you out here with me.”

“Why did I think it was a good idea to date you?”

“I’m not sure. Must’ve been my irresistible charm that fooled you.”

“Must be some sort of charm - it’s getting me to do sprints on my day off.”

You reach up and kiss his cheek. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

“Nah, I’ll come. I’ll suffer through it for my girl.” He grabs your hand and squeezes it.

Your heart swells at his statement. My girl.

“What?” he asks, searching your eyes. “You went all quiet on me.”

“I’m just so glad you’re in my life,” you say honestly and a smile stretches across his face.

“Me too,” he agrees, bending down slightly to kiss you.

Before you know it, it’s Thursday. (Aka the last day before your future is determined). Instead of doing sprints, you and Auston decided to take a hike through the miles of forest surrounding the camp. You’re both exhausted from the hard days of training and Steph mentioned that her and Mitch had found a nice spot on top a cliff to look down at everything. And so, the two of you have packed up some healthy snacks and water and are making the journey to the look-out.

The sun has just begun to lower in the sky, and the cool evening breeze drifts in between the trees, ruffling your hair slightly. It’s the calm before the storm.

“Hey, Y/N, I think I found it!” Auston calls out from up ahead.

You quicken your stride and walk up the steep hill to where he’s standing, pointing triumphantly. Sure enough, when you draw even with him, you can see the entire camp laid out beneath you, nestled in the heart of the valley. When you squint your eyes hard enough, you can make out the ant-like forms of campers walking to and from the mess hall.

“What a view.” You whistle.

“Yeah, it’s pretty amazing. I’m glad Steph told you about this.”

You smile warmly at him. “Should we eat?”

“Yes, definitely. I’m starving.”

You both sit beside each other on a flat rock, and pull out some protein bars, fruit and nut mix, and other feel-good snacks. You eat and chat, watching the sun sink below the horizon and spread brilliant colours across the sky.

Naturally, the conversation drifts to hockey.

“What teams do you think will offer you a contract tomorrow?” you ask him in between bites.

He’s shocked by your bluntness. “I’m not sure if I’ll even get offered one.”

“Auston, stop being modest. You know you’re one of the best - if not the best person at camp.”

He flushes red, but you can tell he knows your words hold nothing but the truth. “I’m not sure.”

You give him a look.

“Alright, fine. I’ve been contacted before by some Canadian teams in the CHL and some teams out west in the AHL, so I figure I’ll end up some place in either of those leagues. They mentioned me on the NHL website last season for being ‘a prospect to watch’, so I suspect I’ll play in the minors for a year or so and then move up to the NHL when the time comes. I mean, I can’t play in the NHL next season anyways - my birthday cuts me off from this year’s draft by two days.”

You nod, taking it all in. You know he’s going to have teams fighting over him. Selfishly, you wish that wherever he ends up is close to you.

“So what about you, superstar? Which teams are going to be up in arms over you?”

You roll your eyes. “I’ve been scouted a couple times before by Buffalo and New York, but Toronto has also shown some interest in me.”

“Which would you choose - say if they all offer you a spot tomorrow?”

“Toronto,” you respond without hesitation. “The city practically lives and breathes hockey, and I want to be a part of that. Plus, the Leafs have always been my dad’s favourite club, so in a way, it would be like I would be playing for his team.”

“Yeah, I get that. I’m kind of the same way about the Coyotes. I want to show that an American boy from out west can play just as well as all the Ontarian, ice-bred boys from Canada that dominate the league. The rink I played on growing up was only a couple minutes away from the Coyotes’ arena, and every time I drive past it, I’m reminded of that goal I’ve had since I was four.”

You reach over and take his hand. “We’re both going to do great tomorrow. All our hard work will pay off - I know it. So we can’t stress too much about it, and just do our best, because that’s what matters most.”

“Wow.” He turns to you, surprise in his voice. “Who knew that the self-doubting, train-till-you-drop, hockey-is-my-entire-life girl from the start of camp would be saying that.”

You smile and nestle your head into his shoulder. “Sometimes it just takes someone to come into your life and open your eyes a little bit, to show you what’s really important.”

He smiles down at you, his brown eyes warm and affectionate. “I’m glad I could help,” he says, and presses a kiss to your head.

“I wasn’t talking about you, I was talking about Mitch.”

“Oh sorry - my bad. Now I get your newfound ketchup obsession.”

You both laugh at his bad joke and then fall into a comfortable silence, leaning against each other as you watch the night close in over the camp.

[Part 17]

This has literally been in my drafts since the finale, so i looked at it today trying to decide if I should just scrap it or go ahead and post it before the finale.

And here it is, so… yeah. 

Regina is arguing with a villager behind her, disguised, of course. Robin, or this world’s version of him, at least, is sitting off to her right, having been ordered not to go anywhere. 

Looking out at the water, she sighs. Part of her wishes that he would show up in this world, too, help her like he has every time she’s met him. She isn’t holding out much hope, but there’s a small part of her that keeps watching the horizon, hoping she’ll see the Jolly Roger sitting there. 

She doesn’t even know who he would be in this world– if he’d be closer to the sultry, dark pirate she’d met when they went through Zelena’s time portal or to the deck hand that had looked away from her eyes but taken a knife in the back to save her. 

She doesn’t know if he exists here at all, but she has to hope that he does. 

Reaching up, her heart constricts when her hand doesn’t find a chain around her neck that holds his ring, the one he insists she not give back to him. Gripping the ring between her fingers has always been a comfort when she needed it, but she doesn’t have it here. Instead, she places her hand over her heart and closes her eyes. 

“I miss you,” she whispers, hoping that he knows, that even though Regina is here, that he’s trying to find her and save her, like he always does. “I love you.” 

When her eyes open, a gasp falls from her lips automatically at the sight of the Jolly Roger off in the distance, docking on the shore. Hope rises in her chest, and she can’t help the smile that tugs up the corners of her mouth. 

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rigormortisbutt  asked:

OK SO I really need a fic told from the point of view of one of Will's students, and they're just really annoyed that their classes keep getting cancelled and rearranged and they signed up for this class because Will is a genuinely good teacher but they're getting almost zero time with him what the hell.

I will file this away in the idea bin, but for now, how about I offer you a little something from the “abandoned fic ideas” pile?  Way back when a bunch of folks were doing the Tale of Two Murder Husbands collaborative thing, I was going to do a ficlet from the perspective of Will’s former TA.  I got started on it late because I was originally going to do a different character and then let someone else have that character, so in the end I couldn’t pull my fic together in time, and I ended up not finishing/posting it.  

But I still have the draft of what I got done!  And it does touch on Will, The Very Good Yet Never Around FBI Teacher.  So it might at least help scratch your itch.

Draft half-fic below the cut, in the form of a transcript from an interview with Will’s former TA.

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Okay, so, I’ve been working on a multi-chapter Dasey fan fiction and while it’s still in rough draft form I thought I might post a bit of what I have from the beginning and the blurb of the whole thing and feedback is appreciated and welcome.

Blurb: The summer before University, Casey was offered an exclusive audition to dance in New York and to everyone’s surprise she left behind her full scholarship for ballet shoes and a shot. Everything fell into place, she got a lead in her dance troupe, was living in the flat of her dreams, and the cherry to top it all off, Andrew, her Prince Charming. But when he proposes it sends Casey into a klutzilla relapse and a hasty returning home to the full house. While Casey tries to sort through her sudden unsure feelings for Andrew, she also finds herself in a complete time reversal as she moves back home for the summer. With the overcrowded house being put up for sale, a crying baby that never shuts up, and Der-ek, Casey thinks she might lose her mind before she even has a chance to figure out what the hell is wrong with her. (Also there’s Emily who she hasn’t spoke to in a year, a fight with the biggest asshole she’s ever met, a disturbing innocent from unlocked doors, and if one more thing goes to shit she’s going to march down to see Paul, and she means it.)

Chapter One (Incomplete):

It’s complicated because with Casey it always is. But Derek doesn’t get the memo until he opens his door to find Casey standing there in full panic mode at three am on a Wednesday.

“What’re you doing here? It’s,” Derek glances over at his watch, “three in the morning.”

“Something’s wrong with me!” Casey shrieks as she makes her way into Derek’s dorm room with suitcase in tow, successfully running over Derek’s foot in the process, he winces.

He manages a smirk, even though is foot is throbbing, as he turns and says, “Yeah I could’ve told you that.” Derek throws the door shut to find Casey sitting on his bed. “Still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here.”

When she doesn’t say anything, oblivious to him, he sighs and walks over to where Casey is sitting and leans down in front of her. His hands rest on her shoulders and she looks at him likes she’s just seeing him, like it’s just sinking in where she is. And with Casey being, well, Casey, she panics more. Before he can get a word out, Casey stands too quick without warning and slams her head against Derek’s in the process. He curses loudly and falls to the floor, she groans while falling back m on the bed and they just stay like that. Silent and staring at the ceiling from their landing spots via the impact.

He breaks silence and his voice is gentle as he asks, “What’s wrong?”

“To put it simply? I don’t want to discuss it right now.”

He rolls his eyes. “Okay, sure. Then why did you come all the way down here? And of all the places you could go to not discuss something why my dorm room?”

She’s quiet for a moment and hesitates before saying, “You were the shortest drive from the airport.” She sits up with a small smile, though she still has semi-crazy eyes.

He nods and sits up, his elbows resting on his knees. “Fair enough.”

“I should go. You’re probably not allowed to have girls in the dorms past a certain time, no matter the relation.”

He shrugs, stands up, “We aren’t. But that hasn’t stopped me before, so… I guess you can stay.” She grins ear to ear at that. He just rolls his eyes. “You do realize that you’ll have to sleep on the floor though.”

Now she’s frowning. “What? Why?”

“Because my bed is well mine and I’m definitely not giving up my beauty sleep just because you showed up.”

“Well can’t I sleep in your roommates bed? Obviously he isn’t here.”

He tries to think of an excuse but he’s not as quick with the quips as he used to be. Time can do that to you.

She smirks and stands up to face off with him. “That’s what I thought.”

He returns the smirk and it’s just like old times as he shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs at her. “Fine. Take my roommates bed. Just try not to think about all the times he’s jacked off in it.”

“Ew, Der-ek!” She slaps his shoulder. “You’re so sick!”

“No what’s sick is he hasn’t washed those sheets since Christmas Break.” Her face is thoroughly disgusted and he knows he won the stand off.

Jet Wolf and Act 21

The manga and I are repeatedly clashing, and so instead of full liveblogs, I’m reading each manga act (mostly) silently, and then writing up summaries at the end. I’ll be very candid, which could well include criticism and snark about the manga either wholesale or in details. If that isn’t a thing you feel like reading, please skip this post!

It’s taken eight issues, but Mamoru finally proves that you CAN yell out something other than a Senshi name, and that it’s super meaningful when you do! Usagi still hasn’t used the names of her supposed best friends, but who’s paying attention to such unimportant details like that when Mamoru can express a feeling?


Floating in the inky black nothingness, Usagi sees a vision of Mamoru, running away from her with an adult Chibi-Usa on his arm. I suppose I should be happy she was grown but mostly I just want to sit manga Usagi down and have a very long lecture about literally everything.

She wakes up to find herself in a new dress, and my dislike for manga Usagi in no way makes this fact less fucking creepy and repulsive. She and Demande chat, and by “chat” I mostly mean “rough draft Usagi’s restraining order”. They kind of talk about the Black Moon Clan’s motivations, but it’s like trying to explain why we need twelve different versions of Coke. WE JUST DO BRENDA. Clearly the best part of this entire issue is when the Black Moon Clan turn into a deeply indie hipster band for one panel.

I’m pretty sure these guys were at The Crystal Ballroom last Thursday.

Seriously, their entire reasoning seems to be “We don’t like it when people live a long time”, and in fairness, genocide does address that problem.

There’s also this bit where  Demande indicates that Wiseman was like “Come to Nemesis my guys”, but we’ll come back to that.

Anyway, Demande does what we all know Demande does and fuck Demande by the way. Also it looks like Saffir and Rubeus are hanging out in the bedroom too? IF YOU WERE AFRAID THE MANGA HAD LOST ITS EDGE AT MAKING UNCOMFORTABLE SITUATIONS WORSE ALLOW ME TO REASSURE YOU

Back at the palace, Endymion has a suddenly flash that several pages have gone by without him explaining something. Horrified, he quickly begins to tell us about Nemesis, and manages to spend about three pages on what is functionally “I dunno”. OH BUT WAIT BECAUSE HERE COMES MY FAVOURITE PART



I don’t now how much more detail we’re going to get on this, but Endymion shows literally zero problem with the situation, just being “Yeah, she stopped growing up nearly a thousand years ago, but have you seen me do THIS??” before phasing his hand through his own head and making spooky “OOOOoOOooooOOooo” noises. He then goes on to say that he’s sure it’ll all work out okay because “her destiny is to protect this planet”. I’m once again reassured that free will for the characters in the Sailor Moon manga is alive and well, and that Usagi’s words a few issues ago weren’t remotely lip service.

But Endymion hasn’t yet begun to explain! Endymion could only be worse if he added “Well, ACTUALLY” at the start of each new topic. From here we go into backstory on Nemesis and Wiseman, and for a guy who keeps insisting they didn’t know shit for centuries and never saw this coming, Endymion sure knows a metric fuckton about the hows and whys of these people.

I don’t know how much of this is accurately translated, so I’m not going to rant about it too much specifically. Suffice it to say that my version has Endymion claiming that Wiseman “revived crime”. Then NQS showed up, said “stop that”.


Point being, I really hate this fucking storyline.

Back to Usagi, who is understandably not doing so well. She worries about Mamoru, LIKE A LOT, and the concludes that the ginzuishou isn’t working because she’s been worried about Chibs stealing Mamoru away, and did I mention I hated this fucking storyline?

Then Usagi finally remembers she has friends! Wassername, and Whozzit, and Sleepy, and Doc!


  • Total times Usagi calls them Mars, Mercury, Jupiter, and Venus: four
  • Total times Usagi calls them Rei, Ami, Mako, and Minako: zero you fool of course it’s zero
  • Total times Usagi calls him Mamoru in the same stretch of story: six
  • Total times Usagi calls him Tuxedo Kamen in the same stretch: zippo

Anyway, Rei, Ami, and Mako wake up for a second, do nothing, and maybe die, but who cares.

Over to Chibi-Usa, who reflects on the time she’s spent with Usagi, and then the time she didn’t spend with her mother. Kids are awful little bastards and I don’t understand why exiling THEM doesn’t appear to be an option. She literally says (per this translation), that “The only one [my mum] loves is my papa”, and you know, it’s good that Chibi-Usa is on my side in spirit, at least.

Then flashback!Chibs steals the ginzuishou, gets her mum nearly killed, and runs away to see Pluto, as you do. Theeeeennnn I THINK Chibs gets pissy because Pluto smiles at Endymion? And maybe this isn’t a flashback now? SERIOUSLY I HAVE NO IDEA HOW ANYTHING’S FLOWING HERE LIKE I’M SURPRISED THERE’S NOT A LITTLE BUNNY HEAD IN THE CORNER SAYING “I can draw this dress I saw in a fashion magazine or I can make my plot make visual sense. Fuck it, just watch the anime.”

What/when/however this is happening, Wiseman finds Chibs, and I’m not sure it’s a good thing that I can say with complete honesty that it’s not the creepiest thing that’s happened in this arc.

bgonemydear  asked:

"it’s 3 am and I’m still in the library studying for finals and I’m losing my grip on reality and I think I just saw a ghost" & dear david & bellarke

brit has a dear david problem. AO3!

About 90% of Clarke doesn’t believe in anything even a little bit supernatural. She doesn’t think there’s an afterlife, magic isn’t real, fortune tellers are bullshit, astrology could be done just as well by a well-programmed robot, there’s a scientific explanation for yeti and Bigfoot sightings, mummies are embalmed dead people who will never rise again, and ghosts and zombies are as much of a fiction as trolls and elves. Aliens probably exist, admittedly, but somewhere in the vastness of the universe, not here, abducting people for weird experiments. They’re just around, on some distant planet, doing their own thing, leading their own lives, not caring about humanity.

But there is that last ten percent of her, and that’s the part that’s freaked out by Dear David.

Obviously, she doesn’t think it’s real. These are all things you can fake. It’s on Twitter, and Twitter is full of fake things, including videos and images. Everything has a perfectly logical explanation, especially if the guy is using Twitter for longform storytelling, which he must be, because if this was real, surely he would have done something more.

But at the same time, what would she do, in his place? Moving out of her apartment because she thought it was haunted would be giving a lot of power to a supernatural phenomenon, one she doesn’t even believe in to begin with. And she thinks the Dead David guy is living in New York, with two cats. Clarke hasn’t rented a lot of property, but she had to sublet in DC for an internship last summer, and she remembers seeing NO PETS on most of her potential rentals. If she was him, she might not move.

So in a horror movie, she would probably be the white lady everyone yelled at for being stupid. But it makes sense to her. How hard would it be to actually make major life decisions based on a dream and some weird noises? Her mother would never let her hear the end of it.

Luna puts an almost immediate moratorium on Clarke reading Dear David updates in their room, less because she about sixty percent believes in the supernatural and more because, in her words, listening to Clarke rationalize how she would deal with a haunting is exhausting, and she doesn’t want to deal with it.

It’s a fair criticism that Clarke can’t argue with, so she starts checking the updates at the library, as a study break.

Keep reading

Novel Time: Find Your Rhythm

Hello, NaNoers!  We’re approaching the halfway point to this month ― and I’m sure the pressure has been felt by all.  The funny thing about NaNoWriMo is that, oddly, the deeper you’re immersed into the month, the harder it is to continue.  But once you’re getting closer to the end, that Week 1 inspiration will kick back into high gear ― so keep the faith!  If you have any questions or problems, you know I’d love to help you out!

Originally posted by fxckem-im-queen

The main struggle of NaNoWriMo, in my experience, is not actually the maintenance of the novel itself ― the plot, the characters, the theme ― although these things can make for extra stress.  The biggest issue, and the most discouraging one, is keeping up with the word count.

When we look at the goal from the beginning of the month, we see 1,667 words per day and think that as long as we put in time every day, we’ll get it done.  But there are many things that can interfere with our progress.  For one thing, the month before NaNo started, I was prepping these posts with plenty of spare time – and then I got sick, and barely finished up before November 1st.  Sickness, work, school, friends and family members, and any kind of surprise that interrupts your day can get you behind that count quickly. Because of this, I’d like to share some tips to absolutely nail that word count.

Six Tips to 1,667 Words

1. Set Time Apart for Yourself

My most common mistake while writing, especially during a long daily project like NaNoWriMo, is to fail to devote my time 100% to it.  While trying to multitask can help you get some things done, writing is almost never one of those things.  It requires total immersion into your world of words – so don’t try to do it while watching TV, or while working, or while doing homework.  Don’t have any other windows open on your computer.  Don’t try to do that back-and-forth, “I’ll write a paragraph and then play a level of this game as a reward,” sort of thing. Give yourself a set amount of time, even if it can’t be at the same point every day, and use the time completely.  Then reward yourself.

“People on the outside think there’s something magical about writing, that you go up in the attic at midnight and cast the bones and come down in the morning with a story, but it isn’t like that. You sit in back of the typewriter and you work, and that’s all there is to it.”
― Harlan Ellison

2. Abolish Your Inner Editor

There is one archnemesis to writing, and it is not work, and it is not your crazy family, and it is not college, and it is not the TV or the internet as all the old farts insist.  It’s your inner editor, and it wants to kill you.  So kill it back ― harder.  Kill it with fire.  Kill it with thirty strong minutes without using the “backspace” key, if you’re brave enough.  Allow yourself to write without thinking about the mistakes, because that’s what NaNoWriMo is about ― writing 50,000 genuine words without abandon.

“I would advise any beginning writer to write the first drafts as if no one else will ever read them – without a thought about publication -and only in the last draft to consider how the work will look from the outside.”
― Anne Tyler

3. Even if You’re a Pantser, Plan ― Just a Little Bit

For some of you, this looks like a total buzzkill, but I’m not talking about outlining here.  All I suggest is that every evening, before you close out that word document, leave yourself a little note ― a plan for tomorrow.  Give yourself an idea of where you left things, because even if you feel confident now, you may forget your intentions later.  Not only will this help you start more smoothly tomorrow, but it will keep you from that annoying pre-writing phase.  You should never have to figure out what you’re going to write just before writing it.  It’s too constricting.  Instead, give yourself time to think between the plan and the paper.

“The best time for planning a book is while you’re doing the dishes.” ― Agatha Christie

4. Diagnose Your Problems ― and Consult

I will say firsthand that I am not a teamwork person, and I do not like sharing my stories with people before they’re finished. That’s just the way I am.  But I’ve learned from experience that sometimes, the best way to solve plot holes or clear out your writer’s block is to talk.  And you can talk to yourself in the mirror; you can write out your thoughts on paper and ramble on until something becomes clear, because sometimes that works.  But sometimes, it helps to talk to other people ― even non-writers who won’t have a clue what you’re going through or even what’s happening in your story.  The odds are good that another person will have a fresh perspective, and they can help point out to you the things you’ve stopped noticing.

“It is the obvious which is so difficult to see most of the time. People say ‘It’s as plain as the nose on your face.’ But how much of the nose on your face can you see, unless someone holds a mirror up to you?” 
― Isaac Asimov

5. Don’t Require Inspiration, but Do Use It

Sometimes, writing a novel can be too immersive, in that we hole up in our houses and snuggle under blankets and write so hard that we forget how to write.  There will be some who will tell you to wait and write while you’re inspired ― and some who will tell you to forget about inspiration and force the muse to bow at your throne.  I’m here to tell you to do neither.  Take some time before writing to go on a walk.  Listen to music, both your favorites and some new songs.  Watch those movies and TV shows that get you excited about what the movie version of your book would look like.  Do yoga, eat candy, solve a puzzle ― anything that makes you happy, without involving The Words, should work.  Give yourself soul food, so that when it comes to writing time, you’re not waiting and you’re not starving, either.

“If you get stuck, get away from your desk. Take a walk, take a bath, go to sleep, make a pie, draw, listen to ­music, meditate, exercise; whatever you do, don’t just stick there scowling at the problem. But don’t make telephone calls or go to a party; if you do, other people’s words will pour in where your lost words should be. Open a gap for them, create a space. Be patient.”
Hilary Mantel

6. Compete with Yourself

One thing I cannot emphasize enough about NaNoWriMo is that, no matter how good you’re going, there will come a time that you fall behind. Unless you’re extremely lucky, there will be some Mid-Month Catastrophe that will throw you off-kilter.  So whenever you’re feeling particularly inspired or productive, and you’ve got the time to keep going, keep going.  Getting ahead not only feels good, but it will save you in the long run.  Only stop when you’ve run dry ― and sometimes, not even then.

“Write while the heat is in you. … The writer who postpones the recording of his thoughts uses an iron which has cooled to burn a hole with.”
Henry David Thoreau

So there you have it – six steps to kick that word count’s ass.  Go do it! Go kick that figurative ass!  And don’t come back on tumblr until you’ve finished!

If you need advice on writing, fanfiction, or NaNoWriMo, you should maybe ask me!

let's talk about RON/DRACO

Last fall I experienced an HP renaissance and wrote this. I figured I’d clear it out of my draft folder.

H/D is good and all that, but let’s talk about RON/DRACO.

With Ron/Draco, the thing that’s always gotten me is just… imagine Narcissa breaking the news that Draco has taken up with the Weasley that’d been in his Hogwarts year. Lucius would splutter with rage. Narcissa would face him, back ramrod straight, and say, “Well, darling, it’s not so bad—he’s a pureblood, and you can’t argue that they’re not the most prominent Wizarding family in society right now. The youngest one will be marrying Potter in the fall. Associating with them will go a long way to restoring our family’s name.”

“Name? Our name?” Lucius would shout, “Pray tell, what heirs will carry on this family name?” Narcissa would press her hands together and do her best to keep her voice even.

“You know that family has always had—a way about them with children.” (ARTHUR WEASLEY MPREG CAN’T STOP WON’T STOP*)

Lucius Malfoy has always desired these things above all 1) to cultivate power, 2) to continue the family line, and 3) to save his own skin. While the association of Malfoys with blood traitors would not be his ideal, Lucius, to everyone’s puzzlement, would quickly become a frighteningly outspoken advocate for his son’s continuing involvement with That Weasley Boy. Lucius had not survived being on the wrong side of two wars by being inflexible. It’s nothing to him to invite the Weasleys to dinner every weekend (Molly accepts every two months like clockwork, sits stiltedly in the parlour beforehand listening to Narcissa make vapid smalltalk, shovels food in her mouth throughout dinner to keep from speaking while Lucius talks with unparalleled fervor about everlasting love), to offer to host a wedding shower for Potter and Miss Weasley (they decline, but invite the Malfoys to their wedding; Lucius gets them an extravagant wedding gift, mentions in the note his high hopes that Ronald and Draco’s wedding will be the next he attends), to buy out and shut down a new competitor that is threatening the profits of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes (he keeps it quiet for future leverage, keeps the records and recipes should he need to start it up again).

Ron would eventually crack–anyone would under that kind of pressure, even without the complicated family history. He and Draco would get in a giant row about parental boundaries and Draco would retreat to Malfoy Manor, where his father would confront him, a crazed gleam in his eye, alternately ranting about his diabolical plan to get revenge on Weasley and Draco’s inability to stick the landing.

*For those new to the Jehnt show, or who have missed my one post roughly every six months for the past ten years mentioning my theory that Arthur Weasley totally birthed a few of his and Molly’s children—well, that’s it, that’s the theory. Weasley men are magically susceptible to mpreg, with either male or female partners. How does this work? I don’t know. I don’t care. I just want Arthur shuffling around the house barefooted, complaining about his sore back and swollen feet, while Molly looks indulgently at him over the top of little Bill’s head. I want Arthur worrying over whether it’s safe to toy with his muggle objects, wondering if they’re bad for the baby. Is there male lactation involved in this? I don’t know. Probably. Weird shit happens when a family has been pureblooded as long as the Weasleys have been. The magic starts getting ideas.

Hi Everyone!! So I finally got to making this follow forever (it’s been sitting on my drafts for so long) But yea, this post is not only to highlight the awesome blogs i have been following that are making my dash awesome with post worth reblogging over and over again but also to thank all the people who has been following this blog (all 8,804 of you) until now.

Either you’re a new follower or a follower who’s been following this blog from the start, I just want to say from the bottom of my heart THANK YOU SO MUCH!You have been an awesome part of my tumblr life, and i thank you all for being here.

I apologize if i am not here much, I am trying to organize my life and figuring out stuff but that’s another story. Anyhow i’ll stop my rant and type the list of the blogs that I will follow till i delete this blog ^_^

Again, Thank you to all of you for existing! You are all awesome!!! <3

Bolded are favourite blogs :)

♥❤♥ : somethingrandomm* s-juuzou *chidori-senbon* talesofagutsyninja* sekimu*sharingan-legacy* lordofsharingan datteebasa* izanamih kpzelda* naruichi *thegrapetyphlosionranger* uchihaism* xamiboy* raekiri* avengersasu* dvapara

#-E:  0range-hokage- 1aleuel1- 800813yen- adarkcloud- aetherreise- ah-kasuna- aisuro- akahshi- akaiyoroi- akashiseijuros- akatsukihoe- a-kiras- alexbenedetto- almighty-itachi- anamelessshinobi anauzumakii- angelsenpaii angrycucco- anithou- annalovesfiction- aomine-chi- arc-blade- arigatoukakashi aroranger- arudareka- ascacious- asenshi- asoom-chan- assom- ayatoh-ayatokirishimas- baby-sasuke- bakamiya- bakamura- baka-satan- baka-suke- barthandelous- batcows- beysessed-  bitch-kage- bleach-at-the-beach- blondaime- blowjobitoo- bluejay5- byakomaru- byyakko- cakekashi- calaare- camiyabi- canatii- canttakebackmywords- capsnojutsu- charizaard- chatte-georgiana- cherryramen- chidorie- chidorigan- chidoriis- chigiris- clemontic- confessnaruto- corazons- corazun- cybilla-fraulein- daedara- daneru- danneehl- dattebae- d-a-t-t-e-b-a-y-o- dattebayos- dattebasa- datttebayo- daylightofkonoha- dbzmieze- d-ecretum- deeperthananyblade- deaddeaddemondededededestruction- deisu- delarem- demiiguise- domeano- elnoyle- enkais- enton- enzeru eolguri- eternal-will-of-fire- euplote- eyepaths

F-K: fagsuke- faiyuuhi- fatcatsarecats- floreusbellator- fragrantlykarin- fuckreapers- fuck-yeah-naruhina- fuckyeahsasusaku- fuckyeahuchihas- fuck-yea-naruhina-and-sasusaku- fugakuuchiha- fullmental- fyeahsasusaku- gaaraism- gaarakageh- gaararulezzz- gabbysenpai- gabzilla-z- gatsugaa- gedokuzai- ghibil- gihtoki- gintokiis/ t-o-k-i-d-o-k-i- grintoki- gudiem- gurrenlagging- haaku- hakurens- haku-yu-ki- hanabito- hanae-ichihara- harunoh- @harunosakurah- harunosakuras hashirama- hatakes- hatredandsorrow- hearmylullaby- heartfiliae- hiinataas- hijlkatas- hinahyuga- hinata-boobs- hinata-for-hokage- hinatas- -hiraishin- hishina-chan- hisokan- hitsougaya- hoetoria- homeisforpeoplewithhouses- hushiramah- hyakugo- hyouriinmaru- iambaaka- ibarra-kun- idratherbeinkonoha- ilovemynakama- ilse-chan-san- iminato- indraotsutsuki- initial-n- inomatsu- inuzuka- itachi-chan- itachid- itachim- itachidere- itachitsuki- itsumis- ittachi- iwaizumih- izachi- joryoq- joseffu- jrjeerr- judaimes- juhzou- just-hinata-and-naruto- juvia- juvla- 89milk- kageh- kahtsura- kaicheru- kakahsi- kakashi-kamui- kampekiiii- kanaez- karokunii- kasafusutan- katsanslimites- kekkai-genkai- kenjiuchiha- kisetsune- ki-shi- kishigod- kizeking- knoog- konoha-12- konoha-dreamer- konohas-orange-hokage- kouha- kurogamis- kurokoz- kuro0oh- kuroxnekos- kusanagii- kyuubi-tears

L-Q: ladybyakugan- ladyhime- ladysenju- laetia- lavakage- lawlliets- laxxus- legendofnaruto- limechaaan- lndras- lucycrazyfairy- lunvix- madaraism- madaraxx- maksengan- mangekyou-blood-tears matiix- matsuokav- mayamakii- midorimayo- mikotosuchiha- mikotouchiha- minatoes- mitsukamis- mizukageh- mizukages- mrpikachew- mrsjblacks- muhon- mukannoo- murasakiis- murasockibara- myinkyfingers- myotpgivesmelife- naegis- nakkiris- namikazes- nanabis- nandattebane- naoboy- naruhina-namikaze- naruhinaph- narukage- narutoffee- narutoo-chann- naruto-passion- narutosamaa- narutosensei- narutostaph- narutouzumakis- nawuto- nazois- nejis- neji-san- nin-donatsuu- ninetaill- ninjamallow- ninzkieisanotaku- nishinoyasyuu- nohararin- noharas norui- nutellaworshipper- obbito- obidick- obi-sweets- obitch- obito- obitool- obitwerk- odzuchi-kodzuchi- ohcrows- okanekis- onlycoolkidsbankai- oobito- ootsukis- ootsutsukies- orochi-mario- orochimoomoo- otaku-min- otsutsukiis- p1kachuu- patti-chan- garruus- perfumefragrance- phantomhiv-e- phiones- piinku- powerbarbie- promise-of-a-lifetime- punk-desperado- queen-hinata- queenino- queen-tenten- queen–titania- quelacindy

R-Z: radsasuke- kimmietae- raikis- rauewinde- rawrrsakura- rebecaarh- rebelsguns- redstripes-bluelights- redthreadoflove- rileylovesanime- rinnegay- robin-goodfellow- rokudaime- saisaku- saketsu- saku-berry- sakulicious- sakuradarling- sakurah-chan- salujah- sanjl- saradauchiha- saskypls- sassykeh- sasu-butt- s-a-suke- sasukeeuchiha- sasuke-kuun- sasukev- sasukevevo- sasuke-x- sasuke–uchiha- sasukexd- sasuku- sasukura- sasusaku-fied- sasusakuparadise- sasusakunaru7- satsurikux- sawamuhra- seiijjuro- seiikas- seijjuro- seiryuuus- seiryuus- sekigans- senjju- serenarla- seventhokage- sexgetsu- sexsuke- shakutons- shannaros- shawttebayo- shihouin- shiinjiiro- shiirakawa- shiishios- shikisaii- shinjiis- shinobicode- shintenshin-nin- shinya-k- shisuies- shitsui- shoujohn- shuurom- silent-shanin- sixpathsoftrash- skon-al-reh- slimshadysasuke- soel-chan- sokais- soullesskakashi- sovietkittens- starkana- strawbellies- starrkdani- suicunes-whip- suncokrethinata- sunsunhereicome- surprises- susiemeep- switch-girl- gourmetgh0ul- tajuubakas- takumu- t-a-p-i-o-c-a- temariiz- tenshi-samaa- theakatsuki- thedoctor- the-gutsy-saiyan- the-hidden-will- thelonelyotakugirl- thenarutofandom- theuzumakiclan- thispieismine- tobirahmah- tobirma- trafalgar-law-ya- trashbastian- trrafalgarlaw- tsugomori- tsukis​ tsukkih-s- tsundere-yaoi-goddess- anerra- uchiha-future-wifexd- uchi-ha-ha- uchihahahahehe- uchihamurderersdiary- uchihasobito- uchiruno​- uchiwah​- unaruto- uruhas- uzumakiprophecy- velo-chan- vivalahyuga​- worldofglass​- xfuu-chan- xyrael- yagura​- yamajis- yamanakaino- tenkas- yannase- yashiros- yatax- yatogami-kur0h- yorozura- yorozuyas​- yugiito- yuhari- yuukiee- yuyukah- zabimaru- zaco-chan-fantasy

I know i may have forgotten some of the blog i should have added here so i apologize, also if i have tagged the wrong blog and such >___< Again, Thank you so much having amazing blogs and for being amazing people as well!! To all the people following this blog you  mean so much to me and you are all awesomely great people! Thank you!! (sorry for the bad edit as well, it’s been so long >_<)

So I decided to do another one of these since I’ve read a quite a few more fics since I made the last one~  I couldn’t bothered to update the other one ok and this one has graphics so it’s better yep

They are in order of ones I read first to last and are split into oneshot and multichapter sections.

Warning: I may not get all of the trigger warnings/nsfw stuff down as I cannot remember them all and I can’t really read all of the fics again, so I’m sorry if I do miss any! Feel free to tell me ones I’ve missed if you know any.

Keep reading