this is still pretty terrible but i think i am getting better

4

I’ve been thinking about this game. Personally to me it represents a lot of lost potential - it’s a great concept but it’s brought down by a less than stellar execution. The cartoon designs look more like stickers than anything, just barely resembling a stereotype of a stereotype of the 1920′s-30′s cartoon style. While I don’t like complaining about people’s choices in design and art, I guess the theme is one that I’m rather passionate about, and a little bit of research from the developers would bring the game to a much greater level of quality than it is at the moment. The monsters in the game are also just unimaginably lame, and to me represent just plain blowing off the original idea in favor of more “serious” horror.

(Continued under a readmore because I say a lot; tl;dr I talk more about where the game went wrong in my opinion and how I would recommend changing it.)

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jealous + jeff atkins

plot : y/n is jeff’s secret girlfriend but she gets jealous when other girls talk to him and has to show everyone/and him, who’s he is

word count : 1270

notes : jealous!reader

++++

Walking into school, your eyes searched for someone in particular.  You found him with his friends, leaning again his locker surrounded by his usual group of friends. He caught your eye, quickly looking away but a smile burst onto his face. You strode past him, moving to your own group of friends. You could feel a pair of eyes on you and you knew who they belonged to.

“Hey, Y/N’s here!” your best friend, Kat hollered.

Your other friends all turned and smiled at you. You returned it, but furrowed your eyebrows. They were acting odd.

“We have news” one of your other friends chorused.

“We think Jeff might be into you. You know the one on the baseball team? Hot Jeff?” another blurted.

You were stunned for a mere second before you regained your composure and laughed.

“Guys, there is no way Jeff Atkins is into me” you glanced at Kat, with a sly smile on your face.

Kat was the only one of your friends that knew about you and Jeff’s relationship. Kat tried to hide her smug smile,

“He’s been looking at for the past few weeks and you should’ve seen how he smiled when you walked in this morning”

You smacked her on the arm for feeding into this gossip and she put her hands up in surrender.

“Well, I guess I’ll have to do something about that then” you winked at them playfully, making all of your friends laugh, unaware of the truth.

“Oh, better act fast then because, Tracy’s on the same mission”

You turned around to see a girl leaning against his locker. They were laughing about something. She was pretty, prettier than you in your opinion. You trusted Jeff, you knew he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you but you couldn’t help the overwhelming feeling of envy as you watched him openly laugh with that girl. You two had agreed to keep your relationship a secret until he got his grades up since his parents thought a relationship would distract him. But seeing him talk to that girl so freely, laughing and joking, you realized that could’ve been you instead. But you were used to this feeling so you brushed it off.

“No but Tracy and Jeff would be kinda cute, I mean they’ve been working on a chemistry project together for the past weeks and they’re adorable in class” one of the girls in your circle, thought out loud.

“Have they now?” you muttered.

“Yeah and I reckon they would be a pretty good couple”

You glared in their direction,

“I bet”

+

“Hey Y/N, so I have this chem- ”

Jeff yelped as you pulled him into your room by the front of his shirt, swiftly shutting the door behind you with your foot. You pushed him into the wall next to the door, pressing your body to his, trapping him between you and the wall. Jeff’s eyes widened at your position, looking at you questioningly with big eyes. 

“Y-Y/N what’s going on?”

You didn’t reply verbally, simply pressing your lips to his instead. He instantly reacted to the kiss, moving his hands to your waist, squeezing gently. You let your hand rest on the back of his neck while another sat on his shoulder. He mumbled something incoherent and you ignored it. You shoved your tongue into his mouth, but he pulled away as soon as you did.

“What’s up though?” he whispered, leaning his head back onto the wall. 

You dodged the question, answering with another question.

“You’re okay with this aren’t you?” you responded.

“Well yeah of course…” Jeff stopped for a second, gathering his words but you had already taken that opportunity.

You untangled yourself from him and lifted his shirt over his head, You smiled slyly at the sight of his bare body. You couldn’t help but smash your lips back onto his. He accepted you for a few heavenly seconds before pulling away again.

“No seriously, what’s going on?” Jeff asked, worry in his eyes.

“Does it matter?” you panted, looking up into his eyes, getting restless. 

“It does, I don’t want my girl- oh my god”

You had attacked his neck with kisses, sucking a bit longer than necessary with each. You ran your hand up the dips of his toned abs, getting a groan in return. You moved up to his jaw, pecking his lips before making a path down again. You hit just the right place, near the crook of his neck, making Jeff moan in response.

“Y/N”

You smirked at this, trailing your hand down to his belt buckle. You pulled him closer to you but before you could proceed to undoing it, Jeff pulled away for the third time.

“I’m serious, what’s going on with you? You’re not like this normally…” he muttered, breathlessly.

You took a deep breath, you didn’t want to tell him the real reason you were all fired up. You hated being the typical jealous girlfriend.  At your silence, Jeff spoke again.

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s super hot but I just want to know if there’s anything wrong and I want to help if there is”

He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, looking at you with those concerned eyes. Those adorable eyes that you fell in love with. Jeff was so different from the other jocks that he called his friends. A normal guy wouldn’t have questioned this but Jeff, being Jeff, was always thinking about your well being.

“I got jealous” you muttered.

You knew from the surprised look on his face that he heard you. You never really got jealous. Girls always flirted with him and you didn’t blame them.

“What was that?"he asked with a cheeky grin.

That little-

"I got freaking jealous okay?!”

And then he burst out laughing. The nerve of him. You looked away, anger bubbling in you.

“Of who?” he got out in between fits of laughter.

“That girl you’re doing the chemistry thing with”

You finally looked back into his amused eyes.

“Worried that we had chemistry?”

You slapped his chest at the terrible pun. That’s when you finally noticed the red and purple marks all over his neck and collarbone. It was your turn to laugh now.

“Well I won’t have to worry anymore” you smirked.

He eyed you suspiciously before following your gaze. You watched as his eyes widened dramatically and he looked to you like a gaping fish.

“Y/N, how the hell am I meant to cover this up? Everyone will notice!”

"Perfect”

BONUS

“Jeff, man it’s like 500 degrees out, take that scarf off” Jess groaned.

“Uh, no I’m okay” Jeff replied awkwardly.

“Well, I’m getting sick of it” Marcus stated, ripping it off Jeff’s neck before he could protest’

The whole group silenced. Why did Jeff have to wear a v-neck today?

“Oh look who got some last night” Bryce cheered.

“Aww, look at our little Jeffrey growing up. I thought you didn’t do one time things” Justin teased.

Jeff had turned a bright shade of red.

“Damn dude, do we know the girl? Because she’s pretty hardcore” Monty chuckled, eyeing the marks that covered a large portion of his neck and shoulder.

Jeff took a deep breath, playfully glaring at you from across courtyard. You caught his gaze, laughing and winked at him.

God, he loved you.

theguardian.com
Ten things I learned about writing from Stephen King
The novelist James Smythe, who has been analysing the work of Stephen King for the Guardian since 2012, on the lessons he has drawn from the master of horror fiction
By James Smythe

Stephen King is an All-Time Great, arguably one of the most popular novelists the world has ever seen. And there’s a good chance that he’s inspired more people to start writing than any other living writer. So, as the Guardian and King’s UK publisher Hodder launch a short story competition – to be judged by the master himself – here are the ten most important lessons to learn from his work.

1. Write whatever the hell you like

King might be best known – or, rather, best regarded – as a writer of horror novels, but really, his back catalogue is crammed with every genre you can think of. There are thrillers (Misery, Gerald’s Game), literary novels (Bag Of Bones, Different Seasons), crime procedurals (Mr Mercedes), apocalypse narratives (The Stand), fantasy (Eyes Of The Dragon, The Dark Tower series) … He’s even written what I think of as being one of the greatest Young Adult novels of all time: The Long Walk. Perhaps the only genre or audience he hasn’t really touched so far is comedy, but most of his work features moments that show his deft touch with humour. It’s clear that King does what he wants, when he wants, and his constant readers – the term he calls his, well, constant readers – will follow him wherever he goes.

2. The scariest thing isn’t necessarily what’s underneath the bed

Horror is a curious thing. What scares one person won’t necessarily scare another. And while there might be moments in his horror novels that tread towards the more conventional ideas of what some find terrifying, for the most part, the truly scary aspects are those that deal with humanity itself. Ghosts drive people to madness, telekinetic girls destroy whole towns with their powers, clowns … well, clowns are just bloody terrifying full stop. But the true crux of King’s ability to scare is finding the thing that his readers are actually worried about, and bringing that to the fore. If you’re writing horror, don’t just think about what goes bump in the night; think about what that bump might drive people to do afterwards.

3. Don’t be scared of transparency

One of my favourite things about King’s short story collections are the little notes about each tale that he puts into the text. The history of them, the context for the idea, how the writing process actually worked. They’re not only invaluable material for aspiring writers – because exactly how many drafts does it take to reach a decent story? King knows! – but they’re also brilliant nuggets of insight into King himself. Some people might think that it’s better off knowing nothing about authors when they read their work, but for King, his heart is on his sleeve. In his latest collection, The Bazaar of Broken Dreams, King gets more in-depth than ever, talking about what inspired the stories in such an honest way that it couldn’t have come from another writer’s pen. Which brings us to …

4. Write what you know. Sort of. Sometimes

Write what you know is the most common writing tip you’ll find anywhere. It’s nonsense, really, because if we all did that we’d end up with terribly boring novels about writers staring out of windows waiting for inspiration to hit. (If you like those, incidentally, head straight for the literary fiction section of your nearest bookshop.) But King understands that experience is something which can be channelled into your work, and should be at every opportunity. Aspects of his life – addiction, teaching, his near-fatal car accident, rock and roll, ageing – have cropped up in his work over and over, in ways that aren’t always obvious, but often help to drive the story. That’s something every writer can use, because it’s through these truths that real emotions can be writ large on the page.

5. Aim big. Or small

King’s written some mammoth books, and they’re often about mammoth things. The Stand takes readers into an apocalypse, with every stage of it laid out on the page until the final fantastical showdown. It deals with a horror that hits a group of characters twice in their lives, showing us how years and years of experience can change people. And The Dark Tower is a seven (or eight, or more, if you count the short stories set in its world) part series that takes in so many different genres of writing it’s dizzying. When he needs to, King aims really big, and sometimes that’s what you have to do to tell a story. At the other end of the spectrum, some of King’s most enduring stories – Rita Hayworth & Shawshank Redemption, The Mist – have come from his shorter works. He traps small groups of characters in single locations and lets the story play out how it will. The length of the story you’re telling should dictate the size of the book. Doesn’t matter if it’s forty thousand words or two hundred, King doesn’t waste a word.

6. Write all the time. And write a lot

King’s published – wait for it – 55 novels, 11 collections of stories, 5 non-fiction works, 7 novellas and 9 assorted other pieces (including illustrated works and comic books). That’s over a period of 41 years. That’s an average of two books a year. Which is, I must admit, a pretty giddying amount. That’s years of reading (or rereading, if you’re as foolishly in awe of him as I am). But he’s barely stopped for breath. This year has seen three books published by him, which makes me feel a little ashamed. Still, at my current rate of writing, I might catch up with him sometime next century. And while not every book has found the same critical and commercial success, they’ve all got their fans.

7. Voice is just as important as content

King’s a writer who understands that a story needs to begin before it’s actually told. It begins in the voice of the novel: is it first person, or third? Is it past or present tense? Is it told through multiple narrators, or just the one? He’s a master at understanding exactly why each story is told the way it’s told. Sure, he might dress it up as something simple – the story finding the voice it needs, or vice versa – but through his books you can see that he’s tried pretty much everything, and can see why each voice worked with the story he was telling.

8. And Form is just as important as voice

King isn’t really thought of as an experimental novelist, which is grossly unfair. Some of King’s more daring novels have taken on really interesting forms. Be it The Green Mile’s fragmented, serialised narrative; or the dual publication of The Regulators and Desperation – novels which featured the same characters in very different situations, with unsettling parallels between the stories that unfolded for them; or even Carrie’s mixed-media narrative, with sections of the story told as interview or newspaper extract. All of these novels have played with the way they’re presented on the page to find the perfect medium for telling those stories. Really, the lesson here from King is to not be afraid to play.

9. You don’t have to be yourself

Some of King’s greatest works in the early years of his career weren’t published by King himself. They were in the name of Richard Bachman, his slightly grislier pseudonym. The Long Walk, Thinner, The Running Man – these are books that dealt with a nastier side of things than King did in his properly attributed work. Because, maybe it’s good to have a voice that allows us to let the real darkness out, with no judgments. (And then maybe, as King eventually did in The Dark Half, it’s good to kill that voice on the page … )

10. Read On Writing. Now

This is the most important tip in the list. In 2000, King published On Writing, a book that sits in the halfway space between autobiography and writing manual. It’s full of details about his process, about how he wrote his books, channelled his demons and overcame his challenges. It’s one of the few books about writing that are actually worth their salt, mainly because it understands that it’s about a personal experience, and readers might find that useful. There’s no universal truths when it comes to writing. One person’s process would be a nightmare for somebody else. Some people spend years labouring on nearly perfect first drafts; some people get a first draft written in six weeks, and then spend the next year destroying it and rebuilding it. On Writing tells you how King does it, to help you to find your own. Even if you’re not a fan of his books, it’s invaluable to the in-development writer. Heck, it’s invaluable to all writers.

a sterek fic inspired by this stupid thing because how could I not

It’s a common saying among Stiles’ friends that he doesn’t have a lot of dignity. To be perfectly honest, Stiles agrees with them (as much as he argues against the point whenever they bring it up).

But this is probably a new low.

Well, not new-new, because this is into the fourth week of the habit and if he was a better person, he’d have stopped by now. He’s not a better person in this instance, but he’s made peace with it.

‘It’ being watching his stubbled neighbour jog past his place every morning in sweatpants and obviously non-supportive underwear. There’s a lot of movement down there. A lot.

“I mean, with that much jiggle, he’s gotta know, right?” Stiles asks his window pane, behind which he’s fake writing on his laptop.

They’re not quite neighbours, there’s about half a block between them for which Stiles’ sanity is thankful. Otherwise who knows what ludicrous amateur spying would have occurred.

As it is, he is very thankful he accidentally set his alarm for five am two (it was four) mornings in a row, because now he knows that this is a morning ritual for his neighbour.

Today hot neighbour is wearing the cut off, grey sweats. They’re a personal favourite of Stiles’ (better than the dark blue ones, which make it harder to see) because it means not only can he get a clear view of his neighbour’s dick as it swings forward against the fabric, but also his sweaty, perfectly muscled calves.

Stiles sighs out and bangs his head once against the window pane, a small punishment that is also part of the routine.

What is not part of the routine, is hot neighbour looking into Stiles’ window, and seeing Stiles’ face smooshed against the glass, after which he trips, possibly in disgust, or just simple distraction.

Stiles’ first reaction is to panic. He pushes his chair back from the desk and slams his laptop closed.

His second reaction is that he should call someone to come help.

His third reaction is to realise that, hold on, he can go and help.

Stiles rushes out his front door and into the chilly morning air.

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Sexting (Jimin smut)

Originally posted by minblush


Summary: On a lonely night, you decide to sign up for an anonymous sexting site. Of course you are matched with the notorious fuckboy you’re constantly trying to avoid. Park fucking Jimin.

Themes: Sexting, Fuckboy Jimin, College AU.

Pairing: You x Jimin

Word Count: 4k

This fic contains: Explicit and graphic depictions of smut, sex over the phone, swearing. 


ENTER USERNAME:

Cleopatra123

WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING FOR?

Male/Female

WHERE ARE YOU FROM?

I’d rather not say/enter here:

WHAT ARE YOU INTERESTED IN?

Decent conversation/making friends/finding a language buddy/other

PLEASE INDICATE YOUR AGE PREFERANCE:

19-24

CLICK ‘CHAT’ TO BE MATCHED WITH A PARTNER!

YOU HAVE BEEN MATCHED WITH ‘THOR562’.

THOR562: 21 years old- Seoul, South Korea- also interested in ‘other’.

WOULD YOU LIKE TO CHAT?

Yes/No

YOU ARE NOW IN A CHAT WITH THOR562, ENJOY!


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What podcasts I listen to

This is a post that most likely no one cares about since I shitpost whatever I’m into but I wanna get my thoughts about the podcasts I listen to regularly and what I feel about them. 


Welcome to Night Vale - This is the one that got me into podcasts although it scared me at first. I managed to listen to 60 episodes in almost a week so I was pretty hooked. This is about a friendly desert community where the sun is hot, the moon is beautiful and mysterious lights pass while we all pretend to sleep. It’s set in a H P Lovecraft style of world where the scariest of things are seen as the most normal of things. Things change when a beautiful stranger comes to town but you’ll fall in love instantly. Episodes come out the 1st and 15th of each month

Alice Isn’t Dead - This is done by the same company that does Night Vale and it’s a lot darker and creepier. It is about a truck driver who drives around the country trying to find her wife Alice while discovering things about the towns she goes past. A warning if you don’t deal with gore or violence very well (also spoilers) someone does get murdered in the first episode and the main character does get attacked in a later episode. This show is only done by Joseph Fink and his style is a little scary at times but it’s still good. I recommend binge listening to the first season before the second one comes out because it’s a little easier to keep up with the story that way. I prefer Night Vale over Alice but that’s just a personal opinion. Episodes will continue when the next season starts. 

Wolf 359 - This is one of my favourite podcasts I have ever listened to. Written by Gabriel Urbina, it’s about Doug Eiffel’s life on the Hephaestus Research Station as they orbit the red dwarf star Wolf 359. This a podcast you’ll want more of and you’ll want to know every single plot twist and theory. The characters are loveable and it just makes me really happy. Renee Minkowski is the station’s commander and she makes sure that her boys stay in check (mostly Eiffel). Dr. Hilbert is honestly a little creepy but you can’t hate him and HERA is my computer wife. Every storyline is great and will only keep you guessing. The website also has other cool stuff such as playlists for the characters which are on spotify and there are small little things that are fantastic. The early seasons are very lighthearted and Zach Valenti (@iamzachvalenti) voices both Doug and Hilbert and it’s just fantastic to listen to. Episodes come out every two weeks.

Limetown - Limetown is very different compared to the other podcasts. It’s a news report that follows a reporter, Lia Haddock, as she tries to find out what happened to an entire town of people that just vanished into thin air. The length of the episodes span under 10 minutes to nearly an hour. It’s interesting but Lia is kinda annoying with her methods of obtaining the information she desires but her intentions are in the right place, despite her actions getting innocent people hurt. The podcast kinda stopped in December last year so it’s real easy to listen to but you will want more which is disappointing since you want to know what happens in the next season. It takes a very realistic turn of events so who knows when the next season comes out. If you like realistic podcasts then this is the one for you 

The Bright Sessions - Another personal favourite of mine and I no joke want more right now. The only way I can describe the podcast without spoiling it is X-men go to therapy. It’s an actual pleasure to listen to and it keeps you hooked. Lauren Shippen  (@thelaurenshippen)  has created something thats actually beautiful and has created characters who are relatable in every way. Sam is a time traveller with anxiety, Caleb is a high school student who can feel others emotions, Chloe thinks she’s going insane with the voices of angels then there is a mysterious character who I shall not name. It’s defiantly worth a listen and it’s an A++ podcast. The website also has things that are unique to each person. Sam has a blog, Caleb has instagram and playlists of his own and Chloe has tumblr. This is no joke something I want to make in the future so it’s amazing to me. New episode dates will be released with the new episodes. 

King Falls AM - This is like Night Vale but less creepy and more paranormal. The main characters are Sammy “Shotgun” Stevens and Ben Arnold who host a  late night call in show. I can only imagine this like Night Vale because of the similar format but they are completely different. King Falls AM is what Night Vale would be if the town normal and unusual things aren’t normal. The characters are really loveable and I just love them so much. There are people you will love to hate and it definitely makes you feel like you are a citizen of the town which is great. It brings a sense of community to the small fandom. I want to say more but it’s very spoilery so I will say no more. It’s worth the listen to and I recommend binge listening to this one, trust me you’ll want to. New episodes come out the 1st and 15th of each month. 

EOS 10 - I’ll admit that I haven’t finished this podcast but I don’t think they’ve made new episodes since last year?????? (it was December so I wasn’t wrong). The story follows Ryan Dalias arriving on EOS 10 to check up on the doctor on the ship who has been going through his share of addiction. From what I’ve listened from this, it’s not bad but not my cup of tea. Scifi podcasts don’t work for me but I still enjoy this quite a bit. Warning if you aren’t interested in hearing people do the frick frack then there is a part of episode 3 that you’ll want to skip because it’s a little uncomfortable. The first two seasons are out and god knows when the next season will be available. 

Within the Wires - This is another one done by Night Vale presents. Within the Wires is written by Jeffrey Cranor and the story is based through a series of standard relaxation tapes where you soon realise that yours aren’t standard. The woman on the to the main character and you slowly figure out what that connection is. The tapes themselves are a little creepy but they are sort of relaxing at the same time. Season two may be different and possibly might not be relaxation tapes but that’s the exciting thing about it. I personally prefer this podcast to Alice because I can listen to this and not feel scared when I’m trying to sleep. This one just creeps me out opposed to scaring me so I stay awake. I wouldn’t listen to this before bed though. I recommend to listen to this on a really long road trip because that’s the most comfortable I felt when I heard it. New episodes will come out when the new season does. 

ars PARADOXICA - Imagine if you had accidentally created time travel and you find yourself in 1942 in the middle of the second world war. That’s what Sally Grisham does and she soon discovers that her time travel only goes back so she attempts to find a way to go back to her own time which is a little difficult with only technology from the early 40′s. I’ll be honest, I did really like this podcast when I first started it but the last 4 episodes make me question if I actually want to continue it. The latest episode makes me think that I could continue it. They do give warnings about gun violence and terrible things happening to kids which made me super uncomfortable but the warning was nice. New episodes come out the 1st of each month

The Orbiting Human Circus (of the Air) - Yet another Night Vale presents project but it’s not written by Joseph or Jeffrey. The story follows the janitor Juilen as he tries to get into the show without getting caught. The podcast is set on top of the Eiffel tower and the most magical things happen such as a bird who can recreate a whole orchestra perfectly and a machine that can make the thoughts of a cricket come to life. There are only four episodes so far but it’s pretty good so far. The janitor is my favourite and he just shares stories about his life that only make me want to get to know him better which is nice. The french accents also make me really happy. New episodes come out every other Wednesday and I high recommend it. 

Podcasts I haven’t started but are on my list

Homecoming 

Lore

The Penumbra Podcast

Return Home

Our Fair City

LifeAfter 

I wanted to make this in case anyone was interested with what I was listening to and I would like recommendations with podcasts because I’m always looking for new podcasts to listen to

Sweet Tooth- A Remus Lupin Imagine

A/N: Another two posts in one night! This is a little tribute to the fact that I already have reached over 100 followers on here, which is baffling?? Thank you all so much for supporting me so much in the very short time I have been on here. I’m so very glad that I have done this and I hope to be getting to some requests that I have received recently, as well! I digress. I hope you enjoy this Remus smut in celebration. This is my very first attempt at writing anything of the sort so sorry if it is no good! Enjoy~

Warning: SMUT 

Originally posted by perfectfeelings

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Harry Styles Vocal Health on SNL

Hello!  So first and foremost I wan to put out there how much I love Harry and his voice.  Dear god it’s SO COOL and unique.  I love how when he’s in good vocal health he has all these different textures to it- the gruffness of his chest voice, the purity of his falsetto, the power of his belt.  When the studio version of SOTT came out I couldn’t sing his praises enough.  His voice sounded SO HEALTHY.  He was making such good choices!!!  Everything was relaxed and well supported.  He let the song build naturally.  He MUST have gotten some solid vocal training over his break because that isn’t something that can just happen over night.  I was very impressed and very proud.  I was also a bit nervous to see if these changes would hold when he started performing live….and…..it looks like I had good reason to be nervous.  

Here’s the thing. There are a few reasons I’m so hard on Harry in particular when it comes to poor technique. First, compared to the other guys, his technique is the only one that’s actually physically DAMAGING.  Could the other guys benefit from proper training?  Sure.  Of course.  Every singer can.  Even those who have been singing for years still should train on a regular basis.  But the other boys’ bad habits are just that- bad habits.  They aren’t going to do long term damage, not the way Harry’s are.    The second reason is BECAUSE I know he can do (AND HAS DONE!!!!!) so much better!!   I know he’s CAPABLE of so much more and so yeah, I’m hard on him because of that. And finally, I know exactly what he’s doing physically and exactly what’s going through his mind because I have the same exact bad habits and I can see him using the same exact thought process as to why he slips into these again.

Harry is the Ultimate Performer. He wants nothing more than to put on a good show for everyone, even if that means sacrificing his own vocal health.  Now, that’s isn’t a HUGE problem…until it KEEPS happening.  Which is what happened with OTRA.  And possibly might be happening now, although that remains to be seen.  One performance of one song slips into an entire show of this slips into two shows of this slips into the entire tour and wham, you’ve got nodes.  I think the biggest problem with Harry’s performance last night is he doesn’t trust the material or HIMSELF to sell it the way it is.  He feels he needs to overcompensate and big Big and Bold right from the start and that song is not built to be sung that way.  He started at a level that he couldn’t sustain throughout the entire thing and had nowhere to go.  That’s when he ran into trouble.  

As soon as he opened his mouth, I knew it wasn’t going to go well.  Don’t get me wrong, he sounds fantastic in the beginning…but like I said, there was nothing for him to build upon because he already started it at too high a height. His voice sounded raspy to me too, raspier than usual.  That can be caused by a few things- he could have been dehydrated (you can’t sing right if you don’t pee white!), he could have been tired (we know he’s a morning person and that show is pretty late for him), he could have strained his voice at the concert the night before, he could have over rehearsed, he could have smoked a bit.  I don’t know what the cause was, but he didn’t start off the evening in the best vocal health, especially for a song that’s very difficult to sing.  I also think he KNEW that so again, he tried to overcompensate for that by pushing.  

There is so much tension throughout his whole body, particular his shoulders on up.  I’m sure a lot of that is due to nerves.  I’ve said it many times before and I’ll say it again: the SNL stage is one of the hardest venues for artists to play.  There’s something particularly rough about it.  He’s also always had problems tensing up his face when he sings, but it what was particularly striking to me was that he did it during the falsetto parts.  That should have been EASY for him to sing.  That’s something light and relaxed.  Almost a break from the tension of the rest of the song…and yet he looks like he was in pain.  Which makes me wonder if he WAS in pain.  it’s hard to tell, but it almost seems like the second time he does it he pushes it more to a mix than a pure falsetto. 

It’s notable to me how relaxed the second syllable of  “bullets” around 2:44-2:48 is compared to the rest.  THAT is what the whole thing should have sounded like.  it’s relaxed and he’s got a great vibratto on it that comes straight from the diaphragm there- compare that to how tight “bullets” are the second time he sings it in that phrase at 2:58ish-3:04.  Why did you change what you were doing, sir??? In fact, to me it seemed like he KNEW it sounded good the first time and did his cute li’l dance and then came back to it feeling like “yeah I got this…” and then tightened right back up again.  because he didn’t trust himself.  

Thennnnnn the bridge happens.  And this is what i mean by he had nowhere to go.  THIS should have been his first belt it out moment.  but he pushed too hard too quickly and his voice just…wasn’t there.  It was tired.  The first scoop up to the first “we” was off key because of it and I think he knew it which made it even worse and MORE tense to the point where he just didn’t have the vocal agility to flip into his fasletto again for “learn”.  And then we’ve got the “it’s just what we know” which was just a poor choice.  I have a feeling he nailed that MULTIPLE times in rehearsals and mannnnn if he was in good vocal health how killer would that have sounded!??!!?  But instead, we got what’s called harmonic distortion which is SUPER VERY YIKESY AND A BIG SIGN OF HOLYSHITYOU’REDOINGDAMAGE (i sincerely hope he has an appointment with an ENT this week and gets scoped to check that out).   This was another instance of him trying to put on a great show and overcompensate for what he probably felt was lackluster vocals (which for the record WERE NOT THAT BAD.  I’m picking it apart because…well, it’s what I do.  and i don’t think I would have had too much of a problem if it weren’t for the super damaging choices he ended up making).  

From there he’s thinking “Oh shit that was bad…I REALLY fucked up…better step up my game and make the end better!” and once again tries to overcompensate and push a voice that’s already been pushed to the brink.  there just wasn’t more in there for it to give.  He couldn’t sustain it.  He had already given everything that there was go to give.  

When it comes to ESNY, it was a much better performance.  I think it’s partially due to the fact that it’s an easier song to sing and partially due to the fact that he was playing guitar so he wasn’t as much in his head (Side note: CAN YOU BELIEVE HE FINALLY BLESSED US WITH HIS GUITAR SKILLS?????).  His belty part towards the end wasn’t as good as it could have been, but I think that’s just due to the fact that his voice was kinda shot and that’s the best it was going to be.  It wasn’t TERRIBLE and obviously it could have been better, but I am curious to hear the studio version to see if there’s more belting that he just wasn’t comfortable with last night.  I could have done without the facial affectations because it just adds more tension and tension is bad, kiddos  But I think it’s a stylistic choice and I’m trying to pick my battles here.  Additionally, as we’ve seen in gif form his li’l neck vein was popping out so yeah he was tensing up pretty good there…but again, it wasn’t as terrible as it could have been since the song itself isn’t as taxing vocally.  

All in all, the performances were great, especially if you’re not as picky as I am. I know this was his first time singing live in well over a year and SNL is high stress and it’s his first time out there ALONE.  I’m curious to see what happens on Graham Norton and if he improves his technique. I’m also really curious to see how he’ll be on tour as well. I do wonder if he’ll lower the key of SOTT so it’s not as taxing.  No one would really notice and it would make things a little easier on him. It’s just frustrating because I know he has it in him to do it well.  We’ve HEARD him do it well.  But he just doesn’t trust himself enough to do that and that kind of breaks my heart a little.  Thankfully, he’s young and has time to learn.  He can still break these habits and make new, healthier ones and learn to trust himself more.

BUDDY.  YOU GOT THIS.  YOU HAVE AN AMAZING VOICE.  YOU ARE A FANTASTIC SONGWRITER.  YOU HAVE GREAT TECHNIQUE WHEN YOU PUT YOUR MIND TO IT.  YOU ARE A KILLER SHOWMAN WITH A TON OF CHARISMA.  PLEASE TRUST THESE THINGS AND STOP PUSHING YOURSELF BECAUSE I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOU DAMAGE ANYTHING.  

Love,

B <3 

Happy 17 Million Subs, Markiplier!

Happy 17 Million Subs, Markiplier!

@markiplier

Sorry for the late post. I wanted to post it when we hit 17 mil, but you know I’m shy about my art and also I slaved over this for two days please be gentle

This was a pretty fun one to work on. My health is the same as always, so straight lines are absolutely still not a thing I can do, but I’ve been trying to embrace the messier aesthetic and I’m really quite pleased with how these turned out. 

I know it still leaves a lot to be desired, but comparing it to similar things I have done in the past, like the 7 Million Sub art (which also has a dog) or the unholy mess that was the 8 Million Sub art (which I’m trying to give myself a pass on since I was at the hospital that day, but c’mon guys, that was bad) I am definitely improving. 

If you’ve followed me for a while, you’ll notice that my art and myself dropped right off the face of the planet for a year, almost two. I had no confidence in myself or in my work, and I let that take me away from what I love to do. It was Mark who brought me back into it. As I mentioned in this post, a lot of things changed for me after I watched the video where Mark talks about how he is excited for failure, because it helps him to grow. Directly after that, simply because one of my roommates put it in the queue on the Chromecast, I watched Mark’s Draw My Life. Although our circumstances are very different, I saw myself in him. I saw myself in the lost person who switched college majors all the time and didn’t know what he wanted. As weird as it sounds, that gave me some hope, which is something I desperately needed. If he can pull himself out, why can’t I?

So here’s the truth: I am in school for advertising, but what I really want is to be a writer. It’s my dream, and my passion is art. I quit both for a very long time, because I couldn’t accept the fact that my illnesses are chronic. I couldn’t accept that I will never “get better”, and that made me stop trying, because why live a broken life, anyway? But just because I’m fractured doesn’t mean I have no value. My brain thinks some terribly sad things, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t write beautiful ones. My hands may be unable to draw straight lines, but that doesn’t mean they can’t draw pretty ones. 

So thanks for helping me learn that, Mark. I know you’ll never see this, of course. I’m not delusional. But I’d much rather have a thank-you unheard than a thank-you unsaid, y’know?

So thank you. 

Because of you, I’m trying again.

~*~

As always, you can find these pieces of art on my Redbubble here. (x) (x) (x)

If you made it this far, thank you for reading my ramble. I know it’s irrelevant to you guys, but it helps knowing that I might not just be shouting into the void.

anonymous asked:

"You dont want me" ladynoir

Ladybug sat at the top of the Eiffel Tower, her head in her hands, wondering how she could have possibly screwed things up SO badly. 

She heard the light footfall of her partner landing behind her. She couldn’t say she was surprised, he had never been one to leave her to stew in her own misery. 

“So…” he drawled, coming and sitting beside her, “that was an interesting broadcast today.” 

“It was a disaster,” she moaned, still not looking up at him, “I should just throw myself off this tower and put myself out of my misery.” 

“Oh come on, it’s not as bad as all that,” Chat said, patting her awkwardly on the back. 

She turned and glared at him. “It was a live stream, Chat! LIVE! It’s out there. Right now!” 

“True,” he conceded, nodding his head, “but it’s not like you said anything horrible. It was kinda cute actually.” 

“You don’t understand,” she moaned, slumping over so until she was curled up in his lap, “I’ve ruined everything! What sort of an idiot starts babbling about their crush on a live broadcast.” 

“Well, apparently you,” Chat said with a light laugh, cautiously reaching forward to play with the ends of her hair, “and about half of the rest of the known world. It could be a lot worse buginette.” 

“Do you think there is a chance he didn’t see it?” she asked hopefully, looking up at her partner’s thoughtful expression. 

He gave her a pitying smile. “I think you’re pretty much out of luck their bugaboo. You already have a ship name and everything. It’s trending on twitter.” 

“Ugh, that’s terrible,” she groaned, curling up tighter and burying her face against his leg. 

“I don’t know,” Chat teased, “I thought Ladrien had kind of a nice ring to it.” 

“This can’t be happening,” she moaned. 

“Hey, come on. What’s this really about? Is it really going to be so awful for the guy to know you like him? He might be flattered.” 

“It’s not that,” Ladybug said softly, “I mean, it’s MORE than that. I haven’t even told him I liked him- as myself, my not Ladybug self I mean. And now… let’s say he does feel flattered? That just means I have made myself my own competition! And it’s not like I can just go up to him and be like: Hey, by the way I’m Ladybug and, as you already know, I’m totally in love with you! Want to date me now?” 

“Oh god,” Chat said with a sudden sense of horror, “there are going to be so many desperate fangirls trying to do that.” 

“I didn’t even think about that! If he didn’t before he’s definitely going to hate me now. I might be the only person in the world who can simultaneously confess to her crush and make it harder for him to notice me!”  

“You really are one of a kind there bugaboo,” Chat said giving her another reassuring pat on the shoulder. 

“And what if this puts him in danger? I mean I might as well have stamped a butterfly tattoo across his back saying property of Ladybug, please exchange for one miraculous!” 

“Please don’t do that. I am told that models need to be very particular about what they put on their skin.” 

“It’s not funny. What if I honestly made him a target?”

“Hey,” Chat said “I promise you, if anything happens I will be the first person on the scene.” 

“Thanks,” she said gratefully, reaching up and catching his hand in her own.

“So, you’re in love with the model boy,” Chat said softly, rubbing his thumb absently against the back of her hand, “gotta say I didn’t see that one coming.” 
“Yeah well, it’s not like it really matters anymore,” she sighed, “it’s not like it would ever happen.” 

He scoffed at her, rolling his eyes theatrically to show his clear contempt for her pessimism. “So tell me My Lady,” he asked shifting slightly so that he could look down at her with a playful smile, “what is it that you see in this guy anyways?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

“You don’t want me, so clearly you aren’t after the guy for his looks,” Chat said wiggling his eyebrows flirtatiously. 

“No,” Ladybug laughed, “although they don’t hurt.” 

“Why My Lady, was that you finally admitting that you find me attractive?” 

“You’ve always been attractive and you know it,” she said reaching up and flicking his bell. “As you can see I’ve just had my attentions elsewhere.” 

“Oh so this is a long standing attachment then? How long have you been dreaming of being M’Lady Agreste?” he teased poking her lightly on the nose. 

“Almost from the first day I met him. It will be two years next week,” she said softly. 

“The start of school,” Chat murmured, “you know him then?” 

“yeah,” she admitted reaching blindly around to catch his other hand and pull him to her like a security blanket. “We were in the same class in college and we still have a few classes together now. Plus our friends are dating so we hang out a lot.” 

“You two are close then,” Chat said a little breathlessly, “that… well that certainly clears things up.” 
“Yeah,” Ladybug said, “it’s not just some creepy celebrity crush. I mean, it kind of was that too. I have like 2 dozen photos of him plastered on my wall that I used to practice talking to because for the longest time I could barely string a sentence together around him, it was kind of embarrassing. I got over it eventually, but by that point I didn’t really have the heart to take the pictures down.” 

Chat gave her a warm smile. “I can see it now, you stuttering and tripping and shooting the poor confused boy adorable awkward smiles before running off in the opposite direction.” 

“Shut up,” Ladybug said but she couldn’t help grinning at her partners soft tone and fond smile. “I got better.” 

“I know.” He raised one of her hands to his lips and gave her a delicate kiss. “So you still haven’t told me what you see in this guy,” he challenged, “If I am getting demoted to your rebound choice I deserve to know what I am up against,” he said slyly. 

“He’s kind,” Ladybug smiled, filling with warmth as she thought about her love. “He always wants to see the best in people,and he… he is just good, you know? The kind of goodness that doesn’t come from ignorance or being sheltered, but that has seen pain and and heartache and loss and yet still chooses to be good. 

“That is high praise indeed My Lady.” 

“You aren’t going to make fun of me for this?” 

“No My Lady. If anything I am going to love you more for it.” 

She gave him another grateful smile before sitting up. The sun had begun to set and she knew she should be getting home. She probably had a dozen of so missed calls from Alya waiting for her. 

“Well who knows,” she said attempting to be flippant. “Maybe he’ll finally just reject me and I will change my mind about you Kitty.” 

“Wouldn’t that be a twist,” Chat laughed climbing to his feet and offering her his hand to help her up as well. 

“It would probably be for the best,” she sighed. “It’s not like we can be together. Not with Hawkmoth still on the loose. There is too much at stake. And I don’t know if I could bear having to hide my identity in a relationship.” 

Chat grinned again. “You are very wise My Lady.” 

“Mostly I am just telling myself that so I can feel better,” she admitted and was rewarded with a loud melodious laugh. 

“You know,” he said, eyes twinkling “you are probably right. Clandestine meetings, midnight makeout sessions, it’s probably better to hold out for the real thing.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Besides, I hate to break it to you My Lady but I have a sinking feeling that #Ladrien is not to be.” 

“And why is that Kitty?” 

“Well,” Chat said looking out at the sunset, “not to be the bearer of bad news but I have it on very good authority that your lover is very much spoken for.” 

“oh?” Ladybug said trying not to let her disappointment show. 

“Yes, completely and hopelessly in love. Someone at his school in fact.” 

“And who is this mystery girl?” she asked. 

“It’s right on the tip of my tongue,” Chat said his eyes glittering with something she couldn’t quite name, “it will come to me. I’ll have to tell you next time I see you.” 

“Well thanks for the heads up,” she said leaning over to give him a kiss on the cheek, “and thanks for cheering me up.” 

“Always My Lady. I should probably get heading home myself.” he pulled out his staff and and extended it. 

“Oh,” he said, shooting her a final grin as prepared to depart, “I do remember one thing.”
“And what’s that?” 

“The mystery girl, I knew there was something about her that I found particularly delectable.” 

“And what is that?” 

“Her parent’s own a bakery.”  

other tips for new cat owners / people who may get cats soon:

no, getting a grown cat won’t be boring / less cute! they’ll become just as attached to you as a kitten. get a cat that speaks to you (literally or figuratively, maybe you want a cat that’s chatty). older cats will be so appreciative to have a home. 
people get rid of their cats for all kinds of unfair reasons. just the ones i’ve seen on the craigslist listings in the last 5 minutes: “i am just more of a dog person (7mo old kitten)”, “we hoped she would get over her kittenish behavior, she has not (2yr old cat)”, “i need to get rid of my cat before my baby is born (3yr old cat)”.
you can totally pick up a beautiful, loving, grown up kitty who will be needing some comfort after getting dumped. just look at this girl.

(taken off craigslist) she would be more than happy to live her cat life with you. is she not cute? she is. she is cute. so, ultimately, adopt whatever cat you like, but don’t rule out older cats!

nextly: no no, do NOT declaw your cat. DON’T DO IT. I’M TELLIN YA.
it’s a deeply painful procedure, actually removing the entire first knuckle, not JUST the nail. it causes long-term and potentially permanent pain in the cat, and can lead to nasty infections, behavioral problems, and helplessness if they ever find themselves outside and in need of protection or climbing abilities.
“but i don’t want my cat to scratch me / my kid / my furniture!” okay, i feel you, but there are other, cheaper, less inhumane options. my favorite of which are claw caps.

you gently press on your cat’s foot (to unsheath their claws), and place the soft cap onto their claw using the glue that’s included in any soft paw kit you get. it might take some getting used to on the cat’s part, but it should under no circumstances be painful, and when the kitty’s claws grow, the cap just kinda falls off, and you’ll put another one on.
you can also file or clip their nails down! if you’re too nervous or clumsy to do it, your vet will usually do it for a small fee, or a groomer can take care of it. Personally, I just let my cats’ claws hang out and accept the pokes when they knead on me, since i don’t have any little babies or expensive upholstery in my home. 

No, cats ain’t “low maintenance”. This is a living, social creature, not a chiapet. Especially if you’re raising them from kittenhood, they need a lot of attention and resources. cuddles, playtime, training, health care, feeding, cleaning up their facilities. you get a pet to interact with, not to buy and leave it be! a cat that you don’t socialize is going to be very moody and sad. get a pet if you plan to invest the time and energy they need- if not, maybe we can come back to that cactus idea? 

Cats need meat. I repeat, cats cannot survive without meat. Dogs need meat too- but cats are incapable of creating taurine in their own, and where do you find taurine? meat! hallelujah!! 
Feeding cats a vegan or vegetarian diet is a slow form of starvation and animal abuse. If you’re not comfortable feeding an animal meat, please do not adopt a carnivore. There are plenty of vegetarian mammals that you would be much better suited owning, but do not abuse your cats just because of your own feelings about protein. 
Without enough taurine in a cat’s diet, severe health problems will follow, like blindness, weak and decaying teeth, weak heart, and digestive issues. This is terrible. This objectively sucks. So pretty please give your cat a proper diet!

It’s way way safer to have an indoor cat. I don’t need you to tell me that you want your cat to be with you for many years, ‘cause I already know you do. Outdoor cats are exposed to wild animals, animal abusers, poisonous substances, cars, harsh weather, kidnapping, and diseases. Cats like rolling around in grass and grabbing birds from trees, and that’s great, but having an outdoor cat makes for a steep decrease in their estimated lifespan. The average lifespan of an indoor cat is 16.8 years, whereas outdoor cats average out to a hard-hitting 5.6. Ouch. 
So it’s definitely safer to keep a cat indoors! If you’re adopting a young kitten, it won’t be hard, since they won’t be expecting outdoor time already. If you’re still really into that whole grass idea, you should totally grow some indoor grass for your cat to chill in. 

good.

that’s everything i can think of for the moment, but please don’t be afraid to do your own research on animal care. there are tons of resources out there, and if you have a good vet, they’ll answer any questions you have! 

thank you for readin’ about cat care. as a reward, i’m adding a picture of toby as a baby. enjoy.

I Got You On My Mind [Part 4]

Jungkook Soulmate AU (Angst)

[Part One] | Previous Part | Part Four | Next Part

Summary: After your memory loss, adjusting back to normal life has been difficult. Luckily, Jungkook is always there for you. Still, something seems off about him, and you just can’t understand why.

Word count: 2k words

Originally posted by jungxook

“Oh yeah, I’m being discharged tomorrow,” you told Jungkook, who was pushing your wheelchair through the hospital. He insisted that you needed a change of scenery. “My parents are going to pick me up and drive me back to my apartment.”

“I-I guess it’s too early for the ‘meet the parents’ thing, right?” Jungkook stammered, uncharacteristically nervous. “Unless you want me to. Like, I don’t mind if–”

“Chill, Jungkook,” you laughed, cutting his off his rambling. “I think they’re more worried about my brain damage than any soulmate business.”

“The doctors said you’ll recover your memories though, right?” Jungkook asked, worry lining his words. “Your memory loss won’t be permanent or recurring?”

“They said my memories will come back slowly,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly. “But most of the time, the memories will have to be triggered by something. They also told me I might have short-term memory issues for the next little while.”

“That seriously sucks,” Jungkook said. “If you need any help with anything, just let me know. I don’t really know how I’d be useful, but don’t hesitate.”

“We’re not in the same department,” you snorted, turning to peer up at your soulmate who was both familiar and foreign in this instant. “This is gonna make school so difficult. I’ve forgotten nearly three months worth of content!”

“Maybe take the semester off?” Jungkook suggested. “Amnesia is a pretty valid reason. Have you talked at all to the university?”

“No,” you groaned, sinking into the wheelchair. “I don’t want to think about responsibilities right now. Just marvelling in the fact I’m still alive and kicking.”

A silence fell between you and Jungkook as he pushed you through a more crowded area of the hospital. You noticed a few younger visitors visibly gape at Jungkook, then glare at you jealously as you rolled by.

You agreed with them–how was Jungkook so damn good-looking? You hit the soulmate jackpot, for sure. Still, even if he looked different, you didn’t doubt that you would like him just the same.

“You know, it’s pretty crazy,” you blurted out unthinkingly. “I’ve been talking to you my entire life, and I always thought meeting you would feel like meeting an old friend. But honestly, you’re a total mystery to me right now. Maybe it’s because of the memory loss, or maybe other people feel this way, too.”

“No, I know what you mean,” Jungkook responded quietly, trying to figure out how to express his thoughts properly. “It’s just…we have an idea of who our soulmate is in our heads. When they’re not exactly that person, it’s kind of confusing.”

“And I’m sure there’s a lot of stuff we still don’t know about each other,” you agreed. “Honestly, I tried to make myself seem a lot better than I am.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jungkook laughed, though it sounded a bit off. You brushed it off as embarrassment. “Didn’t want to disappoint you.”

You turned your head and looked up into Jungkook’s eyes. “You couldn’t have disappointed me Jungkook, really. I’m just happy to finally meet you,” you replied, giving him a small smile. “And it’s kinda paradoxical, isn’t it? Disliking your own soulmate. Weren’t we, like, made to like each other?”

“I guess,” Jungkook said, staring ahead unwaveringly. He pushed you down another hallway, which led to the cafeteria. You only knew because of the wafting smell of hearty food was growing stronger by the second. “But nothing’s ever that simple.”

“Don’t I know it,” you sighed, laughing a little in spite of yourself. You turned the corner into the bustling cafeteria, the noise of the crowds deafening compared to the near-silent, depressing halls of the hospital.

“Want to grab something to eat?” Jungkook asked, the heaviness of your conversation vanishing before you could even blink. “I was going to grab something for myself, too.”

“Sure, I’ll have whatever you’re having,” you agreed. Out of habit, you reached down to pat your pockets for your wallet. “Oh shit, I don’t have any money on me. Don’t worry about it, then.”

“It’s cool, it’ll be my treat,” Jungkook said. When you turned to look at him, he was giving you a lopsided smile.

“Then, is this our first date?” you asked cheekily, delighting in the way Jungkook’s cheek burned. You never expected that a guy like Jungkook, with this terrible fuckboy persona, would be so easily flustered.

“If you want it to be, sure,” Jungkook answered, coughing into his hand awkwardly. You just laughed, and Jungkook pushed you forward wordlessly.


Life at home after getting discharged made staying in the hospital seem like an amusement park. After being sentenced to bedrest by your parents–and having Jieun enforce it with an iron fist–you spent your days bored out of your mind.

In only one week, you had binge-watched three shows, reread all of your course notes (and they didn’t help you remember anything), and read more manga that you had ever read before in your entire life.

You were positively itching to get outside and do something, but what bothered you the most was that you hadn’t talked to Jungkook since your “first date.” When you had gotten home, you jumped to charge your dead phone, which miraculously hadn’t been destroyed in the accident. But when the device finally charged, you soon realized that you had no way of contacting Jungkook.

For some reason, his phone number wasn’t saved in your contacts. Even though Jungkook had said you had met before, apparently you hadn’t exchanged numbers. That seemed very strange to you.

When you asked Jieun about it, she just shrugged the question off. She said your situation was a bit complicated, but that she’d have to leave it up to you and Jungkook. But Jieun did say that she would mention it to him when she saw him at school next.

Sighing, you reached for your phone beside you. It was still early in the morning. Time had lost all meaning to you, since you spent every moment of the day trapped in your apartment. A bit bitterly, you watched your friends’ Snapchat stories and longed to return to normal daily life.

Suddenly, your phone began buzzing. You dropped it in surprise, and it landed on your nose. The impact stung, and you cursed, reaching clumsily for the phone. You saw an unflattering picture of Jieun illuminate the screen. Eventually, you were able to answer.

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked, rubbing your hand against your sore nose.

“Y/N, I’m so fucking stupid!” Jieun practically screamed. Wincing, you held your phone away from your ear. “I know you shouldn’t be moving around, but I need you to come to the university right now. I’m working on a group project that’s due in two hours and a bunch of our files got corrupted. I have some stuff backed up on my laptop, which I left at home like an idiot!”

“Don’t worry, I can bring it to you,” you reassured quickly. “I won’t fall into traffic on the way there. It’s like a ten minute walk, so don’t worry.”

“Just don’t strain yourself, okay?” Jieun ordered, the panic still evident in her voice. “Don’t go to quickly and look both ways!”

“Hey, only I can make fun of myself,” you quipped, pulling yourself out from underneath the covers. “I’ll be over soon, I just need to get dressed.”

“Okay, see you soon. Thank you so much, Y/N,” Jieun said, and the both of you said your goodbyes before you disconnected the call.

You glanced down at your pyjama bottoms and at the thick cast over your right leg. Changing pants would be a battle for another day. Unsteadily, you stood up and balanced your weight on your unbroken leg. You reached for the crutches leaning against the wall beside you and tucked them underneath your arms.

As quickly as you could (which was not very quick), you had thrown on a clean shirt and a jacket. Your hair was a mess, so you shoved on a beanie to disguise the tangled frizz. With Jieun’s securely laptop in your backpack, you began the trek to school. Suddenly, the journey seemed incredibly long.


When you finally arrived on campus, you were panting lightly and sweating. You made your way into the music building, relatively unfamiliar with its layout. You detached yourself from one of your crutches and reached into your pocket for your phone. Quickly you sent Jieun a text letting you know you were here.

There were a few benches in the foyer, so once you hobbled over to them, you set your bag down lightly and placed your crutches against the benches. Flopping down, you discreetly tried to massage your sore armpits.

But you were glad to finally be out of the apartment. The fresh air made you feel infinitely better.

“Y/N?” a familiar voice called. Your head whipped around in the direction of the voice. Jungkook a few meters away from you, looking as dark and intimidating as ever. His wide-eyed expression kind of ruined the image though. “What are you doing here?”

“Jieun forgot her laptop at home,” you replied, pointing to the backpack at your feet, as Jungkook made his way toward you.

“Shouldn’t you be at home?” he questioned, stopping when he was standing in front of you. You craned your neck to at him properly. “Is it okay for you to be walking around so soon?”

“Please, don’t get started on that,” you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. “My parents and Jieun are unbearable. I’ve been lying in bed doing nothing all week.”

“You know, that honestly sounds like heaven,” Jungkook joked. “I’m so swamped right now. I haven’t slept in days.”

You inspected Jungkook more closely. His eyes were ringed by purplish dark circles, but they were hardly noticeable. How unfair–he always looked good.

“Hey, why haven’t you talked to me all week?” you asked suddenly, narrowing your eyes at Jungkook suspiciously.

“I was meaning to call or text or something, but I don’t have your number,” Jungkook answered sheepishly, scratching the nape of his neck awkwardly. “Didn’t know how to ask for it, since you haven’t been around campus lately.”

“Why’s that, though?” you continued, glancing down at your feet. “I mean–you said we met before. Why didn’t we keep in contact?”

“W-well, we did meet, but it wasn’t a proper conversation,” Jungkook explained stutteringly. “It wasn’t under the most normal circumstances, but–”

“Y/N!” Jieun’s loud voice suddenly interrupted. She burst into the foyer, looking absolutely frazzled. Her hair was a mess, her eyes were bloodshot, and you were pretty sure there were coffee stains on her shirt. “Thank god!”

Your friend ran over to you and practically dove for your backpack. She grabbed her laptop and hugged it tightly against her chest.

“Thank you so much. I’m so sorry I made you come all the way here,” Jieun cried, sounding frantic still. “Are you okay? Sore anywhere? Go home right away, okay? You need to rest. And please don’t tell your parents!”

“Oh my god, I’m fine Jieun,” you whined. “I think I can handle walking for, like, two minutes.”

“I just don’t want anything to happen!” Jieun insisted, stomping her foot childishly. “We’re speeding up the recovery process by being extra careful!”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever. Go work on your project and try not to fail.”

“I will,” Jieun replied. “I’ll bring dinner on my way home.” She turned, only spotting Jungkook for the first time. Her eyes narrowed and she frowned slightly. “Jungkook.”

“Jieun,” he replied, just as shortly.

You looked between the two of them, wondering why there was so much tension. It looked like they were having a silent conversation, and you hated not knowing what was going on. You had the suspicion they were hiding something from you–but for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out what, exactly.

Eventually, Jieun just nodded and strode away, leaving Jungkook with a tight expression. Visibly, you could see Jungkook try to shake away the tension, his jaw unclenching. When he turned back to you, his features were schooled.

“Give me your phone,” Jungkook said, reaching out his hand and smiling softly. “I’ll add my number.”

- Girl in Luv

Okay, so this one was a bit filler-y. Originally I had planned to make this one angsty too, but I figured you guys could use the respite. Also, it would have been like 4k words and it’s like 2:30AM and this girl needs to sleep. Anyway, stay tuned!! Thanks as always for reading, and I hope you all enjoyed. Your replies and reblogs/tags are so cute I read them all 💛💛💛💛

Fathers Day for Tony (Quick Fic)

For @shitshitshitshitwhy who asked for an Awkward!Spidey trying to say Happy Fathers Day to Tony

Tom Holland is Peter, of course RDJ is Tony.

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

Peter had been trying to talk to Tony all day.

First in the elevator that morning, as they headed up to Tony’s mandatory Sunday breakfast with the team. Peter had been thrilled to catch Tony alone for once, and had reached in his backpack for the small package and card he had bought yesterday, only to turn around and see Tony on his phone, talking loudly about the pillows on his bed and why they just weren’t fluffy enough, and yes he was aware pillows deflated, but he needed perpetually fluffy pillows.

Peter had just sighed and put the package away.

>>>>>>>>>

After breakfast when Tony and Happy were arguing over who to invite to the birthday party for Clint that weekend, Peter tried to talk to him again.

“Um, Mr Stark?” Peter cleared his throat nervously. “Mr Stark if you have a moment–”

“Do you think it would be obnoxious to decorate in purple?” Tony was saying and Happy nodded emphatically.

“Tony, Clint hates purple.”

“But Clint wears purple.” Tony countered.

“Mr. Stark.” Peter tried again. “I need like two seconds, just real quick.”

“Hey Underoos.” Tony said with a bright smile and Peter flushed a little in happiness. “Do you think Clint would shoot me with an arrow if I decorated his party in purple because Happy thinks—”

“I’ll come back.” Peter said dejectedly, and waved, completely unnoticed by them.

Keep reading

//so I was thinking this morning (always a dangerous sign) that I’ve talked a bit recently about how the Tumblr RP community isn’t always very good at encouraging people to find ways to manage or get to their drafts, and is instead more likely to coddle peoples’ anxieties without actually helping them at all. 

So this is a post of a few tips and tricks that might help RPers manage some of the more common anxieties I see crop up in our circle. Now, I’m not a full psychologist and nor am I licensed counselor. But I do have my master’s degree in clinical psychology with the intention to go on for the PhD (or get licensed to practice if I don’t get into a program) so I do kinda know what I’m talking about. Hopefully some of this advice is a little helpful:

1. “My drafts just stress me out.” This is a pretty common complaint, but I think in most circumstances it’s caused by stress going on outside of the RP world. Take a step back and breathe. Handle whatever is going on in your real life. That always comes first. If you come back and your drafts are still causing you to feel panicky, the next step is to find out the more specific reasons why. That’s going to help you best address the anxiety. Read on for some common reasons.

2. “I’ve gotten so behind, there’s so many and I’m overwhelmed.” This happens all the time! You take a hiatus for a week or two, or life just got really busy for a while, or just lost muse and now it’s back. But in the meantime, your drafts have piled up- suddenly you’re looking at 20, 50, 100- how do you even start? 

The best way I’ve found to handle this is to break them up into smaller chunks. It might be helpful to copy and paste your partners’ replies over into one or more word documents. You can then further organize those word documents even more. One for short replies, one for long, one for medium length. Or you can organize by muses, by how long the draft has been in your folder- whichever way you want to handle this. If you want to put one reply per document, you can organize them into folders instead. How you do this is entirely up to you.

Set a small goal for yourself- even one draft a day is better than no drafts at all. But by breaking the work up into chunks, you’ve taken a lot of the pressure off yourself. A goal of 1-5 drafts a day is a lot better than looking at all 50. 

Another tip- use the queue! Or simply keep completed drafts saved in the drafts folder until you’ve caught up enough to start posting. The queue will stagger your posts so replies aren’t coming out all at once, and your partners aren’t able to immediately reply back. And obviously keeping them in drafts even after they’re done lets you have more time to catch up. These are just a couple of tips, however, and there are probably other good ways to manage drafts. Find what works best for you!

And don’t be afraid to drop a couple if you have no muse for those threads anymore. Just let your partner know, they’ll understand. And if they don’t, they’re just an asshole and who needs that, right? It is better to communicate that you’re dropping them, however, so you’re partner isn’t left hanging.

3. “I haven’t replied in weeks, I’m worried my partner hates me.” I guarantee this is not true. Most people in the rp community are very understanding of slow response time. Your partners want to rp with you- they’ll be thrilled to see a response, even if it’s been several weeks. Responding, even slowly, shows a lot more dedication and excitement over your threads. 

So if it’s been several weeks, and you finally have muse for that thread and want to reply to it, but feel guilty or anxious because it’s been so long- reply anyway. Your partner will be so happy to see your response. 

Another way to alleviate this anxiety is to simply talk to your partner. And I know, this can be scary- but sometimes you have to bite the bullet and do the thing that makes you anxious. Take it slow if you need to, but communication is the best way to feel better about it. And I guarantee, you are going to feel so much more proud of yourself if you did the thing that made you anxious than if you didn’t.

That goes for replying as well. 

4. “I feel so inadequate compared to others. I should just stop.” This is an example of what mental health professionals call a “negative automatic thought”, or “NAT”. And like real gnats, these little thoughts get all up in your ears and start buzzing around. They can spiral out of control very quickly, until you feel absolutely terrible about yourself. These thoughts are very common in people with both anxiety and depression. 

But the thing is, they can be changed. You can actually re-wire your brain with a little work so that it won’t think these thoughts quite as often. One of the most effective ways is to simply replace the negative thought with a positive one- even if you don’t believe it. So if your negative thought is “I’m horrible compared to other people,” a replacement thought could be “No, I’m just as good as anyone else,” or “my writing is unique to me and it has value.”

You will not believe yourself at first, and it will seem a little bit weird when you start. It’s also a little challenging- your negative thoughts are automatic, you’re so used to thinking them that you aren’t even fully aware of it it half the time. But when you do catch yourself spiraling off into those negative thoughts- try to stop them. This is something we teach in therapy and over time, it does help. And it does get easier.

5. “It has to be PERFECT.” Perfectionism is at the root of a lot of peoples’ anxieties. But I challenge you with this- why? Why does it have to be perfect? What will happen if it’s not perfect? 

The answer to that, usually, is “my partners will hate me/lose interest/think I’m stupid or a bad writer.” Perfectionism is usually a fear of judgment, and it’s usually fueled by feelings of inadequacy or fears of failure. So to that, I refer you back to the previous advice about negative automatic thoughts. 

Challenge your thinking about your perfectionism. A good replacement thought for this one is “even if it’s not perfect, my partner will still be happy that I responded. My writing is still valuable to them.” Another good one- “imperfection means there’s room to grow. Mistakes don’t mean I’m a failure or no good.” 

In general, don’t let anxiety say “I can’t do this.” You can do it. Anxiety is not a permanent state. The body cannot sustain it very long- the elevated heart rate, heavy breathing, heightened arousal- it’s physically impossible for it to last. Eventually, your body will start to calm itself and even back out. This is something that is very hard to sit with, because your natural instinct is to run away from the thing that’s making you anxious. Your instinct is to close the drafts folder, to close the messenger, to log out of tumblr and ignore it all completely. But the truth is, that only makes your anxiety worse in the long run. 

Now, if these tips don’t help, or you’re finding your anxiety is so bad that it’s affecting your daily life in almost everything- I encourage people to please see a psychologist, psychiatrist, or some other mental health professional. Anxiety that’s chronically preventing you from doing the things you enjoy is anxiety that probably needs treatment. Having the extra support of a therapist or medication often makes it possible to implement some of these strategies, or find better ones that work for you. Especially if you’re having a hard time managing things on your own. 

Anybody that wants to add to this with other ideas that have been helpful to you, please feel free to do so. 

You’ll be glad to know that Even and Isak’s move went pretty damn smoothly, apart from the one incident when Isak cut his hand open with a box cutter.

Even was organising the last of his stuff from his old bedroom in their new room and he’d left Isak unpacking the box of crockery (a moving in gift from his parents) in the kitchen. He was just trying to figure out where to prop his guitar up when he heard Isak yell fuck from across the flat.

He knew Isak’s voice well enough to know that that was his god dammit that fucking hurt voice, and he was on his feet and moving through the flat before he’d actively thought about it.

Sure enough, when he got into the kitchen he found Isak gripping his wildly bleeding hand to his chest, the blood smeared box cutter discarded on the floor about a foot away from him. It took a little bit of coaxing, but eventually Isak calmed down enough to let Even hold onto his wrist and lift his hurt hand above his head to stop the bleeding.

Even circled his free arm around his trembling boyfriend and Isak immediately buried his face in Even’s chest. They stood there in silence for a few seconds: Isak shakily breathing in Even’s smell and Even watching the blood trickle down Isak’s pale arm.

“How did you even manage that, Is?” Even peered closer at Isak’s hand, inspecting the cut that ran down the middle of his palm as Isak buried himself closer into Even’s chest.

“I-” Isak began before quickly changing his mind, pressing his face into Even’s shoulder. Even could feel him blushing. A few seconds ticked by before Isak peeped up at Even from under his lashes and Even just raised an eyebrow at his bashful boyfriend, waiting for the rest of the story.

Fine!” Isak sighed dramatically, as if Even was physically forcing the words out of him rather than just raising his eyebrow. “I got distracted.” Isak fiddled with Even’s shirt with his free hand, one of his more obvious tells.

“By what? You don’t even have any music on!” Even said incredulously. For someone pale with blood loss, Isak miraculously managed to blush harder.

“I was just- thinking.” Isak replied haltingly, like he couldn’t decide if he was going to talk or not. Isak had got a lot better at sharing what he was feeling, but he still had moments where words got so thick in his throat that he struggled to get them out.

Even knew to just wait him out during those talks.

“About how we’re probably going to have people over for dinner, and argue about who does the dishes when we’re both tired, and maybe one day you’ll make us terrible cheese toasties again, or we’ll get better at cooking together. Just…a lot of possibilities in there.” Isak nodded down and the box he had been opening.

And that was how Even found himself grinning from ear to ear while holding a pale and bloody Isak.

“You got distracted while using a sharp knife because you were thinking about our future? Isak Valtersen, are you getting sappy in your old age?” Even teased, gently taking the fingers of Isak’s sore hand now the blood had finally stopped and guiding Isak over to the sink.

“I am not sappy!” Isak protested, letting Even rinse his cut under the tap.

“No, of course you’re not, baby, you just couldn’t help but think of all the dinner parties we’re gonna throw and the food we’ll cook together while unpacking our plates.” Even grinned, gently washing the blood from Isak’s arm.

“You’re never going to let me forget this, are you?” Isak groaned, his eyes practically rolling out of his skull.

“Never.” Even agreed, planting a gentle kiss to the cut on Isak’s palm.  “Just like I’m never going to let you near anything sharp ever again. You’re on sauce stirring duty for the rest of your life.”

“I can live with that.” Isak looked up, giving Even that vulnerably honest look that made his heart clench.  “As long as I’m always in the kitchen with you.” Even smiled at that, circling his arms around Isak’s waist and bringing him closer. He brushed his nose gently over Isak’s, watching his eyes flutter closed.

“As if I’d trust you in the kitchen alone.” Even whispered against Isak’s lips, brushing the lightest of kisses there.

The truth was, Even would go anywhere if it meant being with Isak.

Starting with their mess of a kitchen.

anonymous asked:

5. “I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

5. “I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

In which Harry is beyond patient with your drunken antics.


Harry holds you close to him, rubbing his hand up and down your arm. You’re riding back home from the pub, where you had a few drinks too many. The room started to spin around you and your friends’ names evaded your memory, and Harry knew that was the end of the night.

“Yeh all righ’, love? Don’ fall asleep jus’ yet.”

“I feel awful,” you tell him, burying your face in his shirt to inhale the comforting scent of him.

“Told yeh t’ stop three drinks ago,” he reminds you, chuckling into your hair.

“Shut up,” you mumble.

The car stops at your shared place and Harry pulls you away from him so he can get out, helping you after him. He thanks the driver and wraps an arm tightly around your waist, holding you to his side while he unlocks the door. You’ve barely made it inside when you feel your stomach churning. You push away from Harry and your feet carry you to the bathroom, where you drop to your knees and lift the toilet seat. You don’t throw up immediately, but the discomfort in your stomach only gets worse.

“Y/N?” Harry appears in the doorway with a crease between his eyebrows. “Did yeh get sick, baby?”

“No, but I’m gonna.” You clutch the rim of the toilet and squeeze your eyes closed while a wave of nausea passes through your body. Harry pulls a hair tie from his wrist—a habit he still hasn’t broken since he cut his hair—and kneels down beside you, gathering up your locks and tying them back. Then his hands brush down your neck and rub gently over your back.

There’s a silent minute before you actually start to throw up. Harry keeps rubbing your back, whispering how you’re okay, everything’s okay.

“No, it’s not,” you say when you can catch a breath. Your throat burns, your mouth tastes terrible, and your stomach is churning. “I’m gonna die. I’m dying.”

“You’re not dying,” he informs you with a soft laugh. “You’re fine, baby. You’ll feel better in a li'l bit.”

You groan in response before leaning back over the toilet to empty your stomach. And he’s right, you do feel better after a few minutes when your body’s rejected the extra alcohol.

“Yeh done, love?”

“I think so.” Your voice is raw, and you can still feel alcohol pumping its way through your veins.

“’M gonna go change. Can yeh handle brushing your teeth? Please, don’ make me brush your teeth fo’ yeh.”

“I can do it,” you state confidently. Harry smiles as he rises to his feet. He holds his hands out and helps you up, flushing away your mess. Your toothbrush is ready and in your hand before he leaves the room. When you look in the mirror, you find a mess of a person. Tears have streaked makeup down your cheeks and your clothes are in disarray. Your vision is slightly blurry as you begin to clean your teeth.

“Is tha’ better?” Harry asks as he reappears in a pair of comfy sweats.

“My throat still hurts,” you tell him, rinsing out your mouth.

“I’ll get yeh some water,” he says, backing out of the room. “Wait in the bedroom fo’ me, love.”

You do as your told, making your way into the other room to plop yourself down on the bed. You feel a bit loopy, and your limbs feel heavy. You’re just staring at a wall that seems to dip and swim in front of you when Harry walks in with a big glass of water.

“Drink some o’ this,” he orders gently as he hands it to you. You sip at the cold liquid and it soothes your burning throat. “Let’s get yeh ready fo’ bed. I’m gonna take care o’ yeh, okay?”

You nod in response and Harry drops to his knees, undoing your heeled boots and pulling them from your aching feet. His fingers reach for the button of your jeans and you shift away from his touch as he skims your belly.

“Don’t tickle me!”

“’M not tryin’ t’ tickle yeh!” he exclaims with a laugh. “’M tryin’ t’ get your pants off. Don’ spill your drink, yeah?”

“It’s not very gentlemanly to take off my pants when I’m this drunk,” you inform him, taking another gulp of water.

“I’ll keep tha’ in mind,” he says with a playful roll of his eyes. He reaches forward again to unbutton your pants and a slosh of water spills down your front as you giggle. “Oi! Be careful.” He takes the glass from you to set down on the bedside table and wipes his now-wet hands on his sweatpants.

“Sorry,” you mumble, flopping back on the mattress. Harry chuckles and is finally able to undo your jeans, tugging the denim down your legs. His ringed fingers pat your hands.

“Gotta sit up fo’ me, love.” He pulls you back into a sitting position and lifts your shirt from your body, then unclasps your bra and tosses all of your clothes into the dirty laundry. He opens the dresser and digs around for one of his t-shirts, finding one that he hasn’t worn in years.

“Arms up,” he urges when he comes back, helping you into the shirt one limb at a time. He presses a gently kiss to your forehead when your face pops out again and smiles. “Wanna get your makeup off?”

“Yes,” you agree, nodding quickly. “I look like a clown.”

“Yeh do not.” He chuckles and finds one of your makeup wipes, coming back to squat in front of you. “Look pretty still. Yeh always do.”

“You’re lying,” you accuse with a big grin.

“Am not,” he retorts, grinning back and resting a hand on your cheek to hold your head still as he gently wipes stray mascara from your face. “Prettiest girl ’ve ever seen.”

“Shut up,” you hush with a giggle.

Harry laughs at you again as he finishes cleaning up your face.

“Tha’s better,” he commends, standing back up and pressing his lips to the top of your head. “Don’ look like yeh been cryin’ anymore. How ‘bout yeh finish your water b'fore we go to bed?”

You nod and pick up the glass again, sipping slowly. Harry leaves to brush his teeth. When he comes back, he takes the empty glass from you and sets it down again. He lifts the covers to get you into bed and then climbs in beside you, wrapping his arms around your torso to hold you against him.

“Better not be cranky a’ me t'morrow,” he whispers, kissing your cheek gently.

“Couldn’t if I wanted to,” you whisper back, snuggling into him.

~Xmen Preference~

-Softcore :)-

{I honestly have no idea what to call this mess. But these are softcore canons. These small set of canons contain sexual content, but it’s low level. So, enjoy~!}

A/N: I don’t know how bad these will turn out. Also these were supposed to be straight up sex canons but… It took a turn. So these are Canons with GIFS.

{{ALSO YOU KNOW YOU’RE SEXY AS FUCK. DON’T LET ANYONE TELL YOU OTHERWISE. ALL THESE GUYS LOVE YOU FOR WHO YOU ARE. YOUR BODY IS FUCKING AMAZING.}}


 Hank McCoy- He’s pure. A terribly kind heart rests behind his chest cavity. The slightest touches from you gets his heart racing and his facing boiling to 360° degrees. He’s the guy you’ll find spending all day in the lab rather than all day in bed. He’s the guy that doesn’t need sex in a relationship. If your asexual. Cool. That’s perfectly fine with him. But… With the right strings pulled gently and not forced, sex could be amazing. 

Your first time together would be rather awkward, like any. He’d be a complete mess. Asking “Am I doing this right?” Or “Tell me if I’m hurting you, please.” He’d be as insecure as you. Reassurance spills from both of you. As time would go on, he’d learn what you liked and didn’t. Sex wouldn’t be an everyday thing. It would probably be an end of the week surprise. 

-His lips ghost over your raw ones. His hands would be busy running over your body’s curves and luscious hair. Those beautiful baby blue eyes, so captivating, never leave your gaze. He’s all yours and your all his. Both your shirts are off, but both of you remain undistracted. Just the love from each other’s gazes could be just enough for a mental high.-


Keep reading

Jack knew something wasn’t right when he woke up. The covers were too hot on him and his head was pounding like he’d been drinking too much the night before. He shifted, trying to get his bearings, but at some point during the night, he must have pulled the covers over his head. He struggled free, enjoying the fresh air, before noticing a pair of paws on the bed. When he moved his arms, the paws moved too. What followed next was a confusing jumble of panic and incoherent screaming that came out as yowls.

He must have passed out again, because when he came to, he was still disoriented and nauseous. He confirmed that, no, it had not been a bad dream. Somehow, he’d grown four legs and a tail overnight.

After the initial panic, he jumped on his bedside table where his phone was, but he was uncoordinated, and ended up knocking the phone to the ground. He batted at it on the floor, but found that the battery had drained itself overnight when he’d forgotten to charge it.

Cursing and swearing to himself, he wandered his apartment on shaky legs. Thankfully, he hadn’t quite turned off the tap in the bathroom and the dripping of the faucet helped to parch his thirst as he tried to think of what try next. He needed to get help soon. Otherwise, he was going to end up starving to death in his own apartment.

In the living room, Jack found a window that he’d left open because it had been too hot last night. He squeezed out onto the fire escape and tried not to look down. It was strange in this body. Jack never had an issue with heights before, but now, a glance downward to the street had his head spinning with vertigo.

Left with no choice, Jack began to climb upward with the dim hope that someone had also left a window open.

He didn’t get too far before the enticing smell of spices and baked dough reminded him how hungry he was. He followed the smell until he staring into a kitchen where someone was bent over, pulling pies from an oven. Jack called out for the guy’s attention, and when he finally glanced in Jack’s direction, he scrambled to open the window.

“Hey, kitty. What are you doing so high up?” he asked. Jack stiffened when the guy picked him up, but he let himself get rescued from the precarious ledge. “Where did you come from?”

Help me! I’m not really a cat! Jack tried to say, but as expected, it came out in a series of pitched meows.

“Hmmm, okay. You hungry?” He set Jack on the floor to rummage around in his fridge. He set out a plate of leftover meatballs which Jack, losing his composure, attacked immediately.

“I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry, little–uh– guy?” He attempted to lift Jack’s tail to check, but Jack had hissed and swiped his claws. “Okay, never mind. We’re not going there,” he said backing off. Satisfied, Jack continued to eat, though with a suspicious eye on the guy who’d now dropped onto his stomach to watch Jack with a bright smile.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hi so I absolutely adore the fics you've posted so far for bmc. It really brings to light the emotions of the characters and it's so well done. If it grabs your fancy, would you consider writing one where Jeremy becomes so delirious (from getting sick or a headache from the squip or something) that he spills all the self-deprecating things the squip told him to say to Michael? It would make my world if that existed, especially in your style of writing. <3

“Is Jeremy here today?” 

“Jeremy’s always Heere.” Michael says automatically without looking up from his phone. Where he is currently texting Jeremy. He’s almost forgotten that there are people actually around him when someone hits him across the back of his head. “Ow what the hell, Rich!

“Don’t even try, you brought that on yourself,” Rich says and the lisp does nothing to diminish the glare he’s got fixed on Michael. 

“If anything you brought that pun on yourself!” When Rich looks like he’s going to hit Michael again, or possibly punch him in the throat for better reach, Michael decides the safest thing is probably to just tell him what’s up. “Alright, yeah no, Jeremy stayed home today. I texted him this morning and apparently he’s sick. I’m gonna go see if he needs anything after school so if there’s anything you wanna tell him I can pass the message along.”

“Nah, I was just wondering since I hadn’t seen him even though I’d seen you.” When Michael only looks confused Rich continues, “Dude. You’re pretty much attached at the hip as much as two people who aren’t actually attached at the hip can be.” 

“You’re over exaggerating.”

“Oh yeah? Is that right?” 

“Yeah that’s right,” Michael says, looking down at his phone again. 

“Just out of curiosity,” Rich says with a suspicious air of innocence, “who’s that you’ve been texting?” 

“It’s-”

“This entire time since I came up to you-”

“I don’t appreciate-”

“and probably the entire day since you found out he won’t be he- at school?”

“Well I can’t just ignore him when he’s sick and miserable now can I?” 

Rich’s responding smirk tells him he definitely just rose to a very obvious bait and probably should have just kept his mouth shut. 


The thing is, Jeremy doesn’t do well when he’s sick. To start it off, he has no self-awareness or any clue at what warrants a sick day at home so it’s a miracle he actually didn’t come to school only to have Michael drag his sniffling and swaying ass home. Michael just assumes that Mr. Heere most likely was awake and forced Jeremy back to bed before taking off to his brand new job. 

Michael doesn’t bother with ringing the doorbell when he gets to Jeremy’s house. He knows the key is under the doormat out front, despite how many times he’s told Jeremy it’s the dumbest place in the world to put the house key (”Don’t say I didn’t warn you when you literally get murdered”, “Michael nobody even gets robbed this part of town!”, “Well there’s a first for everything!”). He unlocks the door, grumbling about safety and mostly lack thereof the entire time before he makes his way up the stairs to Jeremy’s bedroom. 

He hear the coughing before he’s even half-way up. He knocks on the door and shouts a quick “Don’t be naked,” purely out of curtesy, before barging in. 

“Hey Mich-” Jeremy’s raspy voice is cut-off by wet sounding coughs that tear through his body and forces him to turn over on his side so that he won’t choke. 

“Holy shit dude,” Michael says eloquently as he sits down on the bed next to Jeremy’s form. “I got you some cough drops,” he pauses as Jeremy’s cough takes over the conversation yet again, “but I honestly don’t think any cough drops in the world is gonna do shit for you right now.” 

“Ugh…” Jeremy looks up at Michael with wet eyes, “dad got me somethin’” he says and makes a gesture in the general direction of his bedside table where a bottle of something Michael presumes is medicine is residing. “It’s meant to like,” he makes a questionable gesture with his hand, “loosen up the crap in my throat, so that it doesn’t get stuck. Which is great and all but in turn means tha I’m coughing up slime every minute.” 

“Gross.”

“Tell me about it.” Jeremy says with a sigh and rolls onto his back again. Michael reaches out and puts his hand on Jeremy’s sweaty forehead, just to check. He nearly snatches his hand back after half a second and the only thing that stops him is that Jeremy had closed his eyes the second Michael touched him and is now letting out a sigh as if he’s actually remembering to relax for the first time today. 

“Dude, you’re burning up.” He feel slightly concerned now. Jeremy had told him he was sick but this is… a lot more than he had let on while texting. 

“Mm-hm…” Jeremy says, his eyes are still closed and there’s no actual indication that he’s heard Michael at all. Michael strokes his hand across Jeremy’s forehead and ignores the disgusting feeling of sweat clinging to it. It must feel nice to get something cool touching his hot skin. 

“Hey Jeremy,” he says as he strokes his thumb up the bridge of Jeremy’s nose, “I’m gonna go get some damp towels so you can cool down a bit, yeah?” and so he can get rid of some of that gross-ass sweat currently covering Jeremy’s body as far as he can see. Jeremy seems to have tossed his blanket practically across the bedroom at some point to alleviate some of the heat but even in nothing but a tank-top and boxers he looks like he’s going to boil from the inside-out. When he comes back with four smaller towels and a bowl of cold water Jeremy hasn’t opened his eyes and Michael thinks he might’ve fallen asleep. He arranges one of the towels over Jeremy’s eyes and the latter lets out a sigh of immense relief. “Does your head hurt, Jer?”

“Why’re you being so nice…” Jeremy’s voice is weak and it sounds like it hurts to talk. Michael frowns at the words. 

“When am I ever mean to you?” He asks with a scoff.

“You’re just always nice even after what I did.” Michael has to swallow down an automatic feeling of dread. Any reminder of the Squip usually has that affect. 

“We’re past that, Jeremy.” He keeps his voice quiet so he still sounds calm and not at all like his heart is beating out of his chest.

“I still hear him sometimes.” The words are so simple, and said so softly but it still seems like Jeremy is screeching, as though he’s calling out for help. 

“What do you mean?” He desperately tries to keep his voice calm as he sits down next to Jeremy, he wishes he hadn’t put a towel over half of Jeremy’s face now, wishes he could see what’s going on with Jeremy’s facial expression.

“I keep trying to-” Jeremy has to pause for a second as his voice breaks, “I just want to be better than what he said I was.” 

“Jeremy whatever he said it-” Michael’s words are interrupted by Jeremy who seemingly isn’t done. 

“He would always tell me how terrible I was, how I was gross and how everyone else thought so too…” Michael grabs Jeremy’s hand and squeezes it, unsure what else to do. “Fuck he was right. He was always right.” 

“That’s not true…” Michael whispers shifting so that he’s sitting closer to Jeremy, still squeezing his hand tight. 

“I still hear him, and- and sometimes I forget I don’t have to listen anymore!” Jeremy’s voice is shaky and Michael knows he’s crying, “I keep forgetting I don’t have to say it too.”  

“What do you mean?” Michael doesn’t want to know, but if Jeremy needs to talk he’ll listen, he’ll always listen. 

“He’d make me say things-things about myself…” comes the delayed response and this time Michael listens to the urge that’s telling him to remove the towel from Jeremy’s eyes, his headache be damned. He won’t let Jeremy get so caught up in his own thoughts that he doesn’t remember he isn’t alone. Jeremy blinks his eyes open, and Michael notices right away that he was right. Jeremy’s eyes are red and the second the towel is off his eyes start to water and he looks so frightened and so small that Michael wants nothing more than to take all of the bad, horrible things the Squip told him and make them disappear. He knows he can’t though, the best he can do is just sit there, and hold Jeremy’s hand. 

“You don’t have to tell me,” he says softly and brings Jeremy’s hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the sweaty palm, “but I’m here, okay? I’m right here, and I’m listening.” Michael can’t be sure if his words do any good as Jeremy only seems to cry harder, but Jeremy needs to know he’s not alone. It takes a few minutes but after a while Jeremy seems to calm down enough to continue.

“Everything about me makes me wanna die.” Jeremy sniffs and fresh tears spring to his eyes and all Michael can do is gather Jeremy up in his arms and hold him close. “He’d make me repeat that…” Jeremy continues, “and I didn’t- I felt it. He just took things I already thought and felt and made me- I want him gone!” Michael’s heart breaks as Jeremy’s ramble ends in a wail, “I want him gone I want him- he’s still- Michael!” Jeremy sobs and grabs at the front of Michael’s shirt. 

“I’m here. It’s gonna be okay. He can’t do shit anymore. He-it’s just a voice and it’s awful and I hate it but that’s all it is. it can’t do shit to you anymore.” Even as he says it he isn’t sure if it’s true. With Jeremy still sobbing in his arms, he feels powerless and wonders silently if the Squip isn’t already doing shit, or if he’s just done enough damage to last Jeremy a lifetime. 

He pushes the thought away and squeezes Jeremy tighter. 

FICS FOR STEREK’S VALENTINE’S DAY FIC REC

As it’s coming up to Valentine’s day I thought I would put a rec together of all my favourite Valentine’s themed fics!

Hope you enjoy, and remember as always, make sure you check rating, tags and warnings on all fics!


Always (1/1 | 1,066 | Not Rated)

Derek’s in love with Stiles but thinks he’s about to lose him. Stiles was never going to let Derek go in the first place. Fluff ensues.

Sometimes love is an obligation to your grandmother (1/1 | 6,982 | Rated M)

Dearest Derek,

Welcome to your 21st year! As per the wonderful tradition of the house of Hale, you will be attending some of the best places to be single that Beacon Hills has to offer today. First, it’s to the Coffee Shop on Main where you will get two lemon zest chocolate chip muffins. Listen to me very carefully, I’m going to ease you into the way this works. Buy two muffins, but you’re only going to eat one. Find someone cute to give the second one to…

The letter went on, but Derek was staring at it in horror, unable to process how terrible that sounded in just the first paragraph. Today was going to suck.

*

Or: Derek’s grandmother relishes setting her single grandchildren up on Valentine’s Day. Only, less ‘setting up’ and more ‘forcing them to run a singles-only scavenger hunt where the prize is love or at least sex’.

Derek never wins. Derek never WANTS TO win.

Kiss Me Under the Light of a Thousand Stars (1/1 | 5,631 | Not Rated)

“It was a true love spell,” he admits quietly. “It was supposed to help me find my true love. And apparently I suck at magic as much as I suck at dating because I screwed this up too.”

~~~

In which Stiles’ Valentine’s Day love spell goes very wrong.

Or perhaps very right.

Valentine’s strike (2/2 | 6,015 | PG-13)

Stiles hates Valentines Day. It was the bane of his existance. But he’s home for the 'holiday’ and has nothing to do since everyone he knows is busy. Except Derek, Derek is the only one alone as him.

Or

The five times Derek and Stiles date by accident and the one time one of them actually ask.

Thank Jackson for me (1/1 | 3,187 | PG-13)

Derek keeps asking the wrong kind of questions.

Hot for Teacher(’s Aide) (1/1 | 8,050 | PG-13)

“He invited you to his apartment.”

“To do a lesson plan.”

“Yeah and to probably lesson your plan while you’re there,” Scott said, waggling his eyebrows.

“That made no sense, but you still managed to make it sound dirty,” Stiles said. “I’m impressed.”

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