this seems to happen daily

anonymous asked:

Hi! Just thought that you should know scottishboop on twitter is trying to pass of your sniper McCree art as her own.

Thanks for letting me know! I dropped a comment on the post in question – although, it looks like it ain’t just my work they’re trying to claim as theirs (which is incredibly dumb of them really, considering the amount of difference between the art styles of each piece). If anyone recognizes any other artists’ works that have been reposted there, it might be an idea to let them know as well. Hopefully it’ll all get resolved soon in any case– shame that the first time I use twitter in months is for such a thing tho, lol

EDIT: not five minutes later, they’ve blocked me! lmao

anonymous asked:

not to be mean or anything, and I hope I don't come off that way, but why do you answer more asks that are relevant to what you recently post compared to those you have awaiting your answer? I'm just curious.

Ah, well. When I post something on tumblr I suppose it’s easier to respond to related asks when I’m still in the moment, as it were? 

I read and appreciate every message I get but I have a lot waiting in my inbox and to be honest that number is so huge the thought of trying to tackle it is really quite intimidating. I respond to a lot of them privately if they’re not anonymous, but sometimes I just…don’t have the mental energy for it. And I’ve had a bad few months for not reasponding to asks, I know. The longer they’re sitting there the guiltier I feel about not handling them. It’s a vicious cycle, but I am trying to be better.

I’m sorry if you’ve sent me a message and have been waiting for me to get back to you. 

Lovesick Loser || Peter Parker [[request]]

[[requested prompt: Pete has a crush on Liz and him and Ned are staring at her like in the scene in the cafeteria and reader is like Michelle and Peter, when he looks at the reader, is finding himself admiring her and blaming himself for not noticing her before, although she is in all his classes.]]

yay, here it goes, my first request ♡♡♡

**please don’t repost/plagiarize this story! reblogs are always okay!**

tags: @andreuskystuff

{{request status: still open}}

don’t repost/plagiarize! reblogs are fine!!

——————————

Originally posted by spiderthing

Peter sits beside his best friend, Ned, during lunch. Since Ned was just about the only person that would ever be caught talking to him, they were in the midst of an intense debate on who would win in a battle between him Spider-Man and Iron Man.

Ned was all for Iron Man, and admittedly, Peter felt a little hurt at how little faith he had in him Spider-Man winning. 

“I mean, you gotta hand it to Spider-Man for being able to improvise-” Peter suddenly trails off, completely losing his train of thought when Liz Allan stepped into the cafeteria with her group of friends. Ned, not knowing what had happened, begins to nudge at Peter’s shoulder, “Dude, what’s wrong with you? Why did you…stop?” 

Ned follows Peter’s line of sight to see Liz walking across the cafeteria. Involuntarily, Peter let’s out a sigh and continues to admire Liz’s beauty. “So…did Liz get a new top?” 

“No, you’ve seen that before. Never with that skirt, though.” Ned answers with a bit of a dreamy lull to his voice. 

“We should probably stop staring before it gets creepy though.” Peter states while still openly admiring her. 

“Yeah.” Ned agrees, but neither one of them even attempts to look away from Liz. 

A sudden giggle makes both Peter and Ned turn toward the sound, and they look to the end of the table to see [Name] with a wide grin on her face, “Too late. You guys are such losers.”

Peter frowns at her and holds out a hand while Ned simply pouted at her, their expressions successfully making [Name] laugh even louder in response. Peter kept staring at her, somehow feeling his face turn red at seeing her smile again. 

Has her eyes always been that bright? 

And were her lips always that full?

Shit, what is wrong with me? 

“Anyways, I’d love to sit and chat with you guys, but I’ve got classes to attend. Later, you lovesick losers.” She gives them a wave before gathering her textbooks and leaving the cafeteria. When she was gone, Ned lets out a scoff before jutting a thumb in her direction, “Hey, isn’t she that chick that’s basically in all of your classes?” 

Peter nods, “Yeah, she’s pretty smart-”

“But not as smart as you though, huh? Maybe that’s why she was calling you a loser, because she holds a bit of a grudge against you.” Ned laughs, making Peter grin before playfully pushing him aside. 

“Shut up. [Name] would never be that petty.”

The bell suddenly rings, indicating the end of lunch. Both boys reluctantly pick up their trays, placing them against the rack before exiting the cafeteria, “Well, I’m off to Trig. Later Peter.” 

Peter nods at Ned and slowly makes his way to his Chemistry class, hoping that whatever he felt with [Name] was just a momentary thing and that he wouldn’t act so weird upon seeing her again.

{…}

He was wrong, so wrong, and he hadn’t been this wrong in such a long time.

The moment he walked into the classroom and saw [Name] sitting in her usual seat up front, he was too busy staring at her to even notice the desk in front of him. 

It was only when Peter ran the side of his hip into the desk’s corner that he realized he had been blatantly staring at [Name]. Peter running into the desk causes some pain to go through him as a few of the students laughed at him, making [Name] turn to face him in response. 

With her (color) eyes honed in on him, Peter felt his whole face turn red as he stuttered out an apology before quickly sitting on his assigned seat in the middle row. 

His hands were slightly trembling when he takes out his lead pencil and notebook, refusing to look up until he heard a soft voice call out his name.

“Peter?” 

He looks up, realizing that [Name] was staring at him. Peter gulps and tries to keep from becoming tongue tied, “Y-Yes [Name]?” 

She frowns at him and asks, “Are you okay? You’re not too hurt from when you ran into the desk, right?” Her question makes a bunch of the students laugh, making her glare at all of them in response. When they stop their laughter, she faces him again, “Anyways, are you okay?” 

“I-I’m fine! Really, uhm, thanks for asking.” 

She smiles at him with genuine relief in her eyes, (Fuck fuck fuck, why is my heart twisting like this?) “That’s good. Try to be more careful next time you lovesick loser.” [Name] tells him before turning around in her seat. 

Peter’s heart dropped a little bit upon hearing her nickname for him. 

I guess that’s all I’ll ever be in front of her eyes, a total lovesick loser.

{…}

For several days, Peter tried to deny his growing feelings for [Name], saying that there was no way she could live up to Liz Allan (despite how pretty he found [Name] to be). 

But Peter was really bad at hiding the truth from himself, and it certainly didn’t help that he saw her every day within all of his classes. 

When [Name] wasn’t looking, Peter would stare at her and think of ways to approach her. 

Should I ask her out? 

Or should I just talk to her?

Maybe I should pretend that I don’t know a certain lesson and ask for her notes? Fuck, never mind. She would never believe me and would know that something is up!

This debate seemed to happen for Peter on a near daily basis, and he figured the only way to put her out of his mind was to completely immerse himself in his superhero work. While he was webbing throughout the city, he keeps his eyes focused on the background, looking for any signs of trouble. 

A sudden scream makes his whole body tense as his mind was working on high alert. Finding the general area where the scream came from, Peter begins shooting his web throughout the city and lands in the middle of a park. Turning around, he sees a figure running toward him, not seeing him as they kept their gaze on their pursuer from behind. 

Peter successfully stops the figure from running any further when they land against his chest, screaming again when they felt his arms wrap around them. 

Finally seeing the person for the first time when they turn around, he felt his throat clench up when [Name] looked up at him with a terrified expression on her face, “Oh thank god, it’s you! Spider-Man, please help me…! This man was stalking me, and he h-has a knife in his hand.” 

Knowing that she was in danger makes Peter strengthen his resolve when he suddenly pushes [Name] behind him, “Stay back, I’ll handle this. I promise, I’ll protect you.” 

She gives him a shaky nod, wrapping both arms around her chest when her stalker suddenly appeared. He stops and looks over at Spider-Man, clearly not believing that Peter was the real deal when he laughs. “Alright kid, Comic Con is over. Ya can take ya little pretty costume somewhere else. Just give me the girl, and I promise I won’t nick ya.”

Peter was beyond furious when he expertly aimed his web shooters at the man’s knife, making the synthetic silk stick on to the knife before pulling it away. The stalker seemed dumbfounded, looking from his empty hand to his knife that was suddenly webbed to the ground. After taking a few minutes to realize that he was the real deal, the man attempts to run only to have Peter shoot his web around his legs, effectively tripping him when he landed flat on his face. 

Peter heard [Name] let out a strained “Ouch” when they both heard something crack when he faceplanted on the hard cement. Knowing that he had successfully stopped [Name’s] attacker, Peter faces her and pulls her into his arms, “Wha-”

Making sure that his voice was significantly deeper, he tells her, “Don’t worry about it. Just hang on tight.” Keeping her safely pressed against him, Peter makes his web shooter land on top of a building before swinging toward it with [Name] in his arms. “If you don’t mind me asking, where do you live?” 

She shakily tells him her address, and he swings across the city with an almost seamless knowledge of the city. In a total of ten minutes, he arrives at the rooftop of [Name’s] apartment complex, slowly letting go of her as she slid down on the ground. 

Her hands were still pressed on his chest when she moaned, burying her face within his chest. Peter stiffens and shakily asks her, “A-Are you okay? Were you hurt?” 

“No, I’m fine…I’m just- argh. I guess you can say I was mad at myself.” 

“Why are you mad at yourself? You shouldn’t be, because you look like a girl that could do no wrong.” Peter tells her honestly. 

Hearing his words makes her shake her head, “No, you don’t understand. I’m a total bitch. I get jealous of my crush who’s always ogling this seemingly perfect girl, and because of my jealousy, I’m sure I made him hate my guts.” 

She pulls away from him with a sigh, “I keep on calling him a lovesick loser, but really, all I want is for Peter to look at me like he looks at Liz. I like him so much, but he never notices me.” 

“That’s why I was nearly attacked today, because I wanted some time by myself to think about what I need to do when it came to Peter. I was too distracted and didn’t know that I was being followed…until the very last minute.” 

Peter was panicking now, having all of these thoughts running through his mind as he tried to play it cool. “I-I’m sure this uhm, Peter guy wouldn’t hate you. M-Maybe you should just try talking to him?” 

His question makes her laugh, “Yeah sure, that’s pretty easy. I’ll profess my feelings for him, only to be rejected by him in front of the entire school. Not gonna happen, Spidey.” 

She sighs once more and steps closer to him, placing a gentle kiss against his cheek, “But thank you for saving me. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again so that you can focus on rescuing more important people.” 

[Name] was about to walk back into her apartment when Peter stops her by placing a hand on her wrist, “You’re important too, s-so if you ever need help, just call out my name and I swear I’ll come to you.” 

Her mouth was slightly open with surprise before forming into a wide smile, the expression making his heart do somersaults from within his chest, “Honestly Spider-Man, thank you.” 

{…}

The next day, he tells Ned of his plans before the start of school to make sure that he was alone on the table with [Name] during lunch. Despite him being super nervous, he used her involuntary confession to him yesterday to build up his courage. 

[Name] liked him back; she has always liked him back. 

And it was time for him to make her happy. 

After a few hours of waiting in agony, lunch period came. Peter was so nervous that he didn’t have much of an appetite, so he skipped getting a tray and went straight to his usual table, this time sitting across from [Name’s] usual seat. 

The following minutes that lead up to her arrival was when Peter was the most nervous. He couldn’t seem to stop his leg’s jittery movements nor the way he picked at his fingers. 

When [Name] finally appeared, he felt butterflies erupt all across his abdomen, filling him with the fluttery feeling of sheer anticipation at the mere sight of her. He notices her questioning glance, but she says nothing to him and simply takes her usual seat across from him. “Hello Peter.” 

“H-Hey [Name].” 

She nods and opens her notebook and Biology textbook, filling in some notes as Peter kept staring at her, waiting for the right time to talk to her. Things were getting a little awkward now when no sound came out of his mouth. He was so busy admiring the way the sunlight shone against her hair that he didn’t even hear or notice her when she looked up at him. 

“Peter, what’s wrong with you? Why are you staring at me like that, I’m not Liz.” 

Her words brings him out of his daydream when he manages to say (with a slight stutter), “I kn-know you’re not. You’re prettier than her, a-anyways.” 

He saw the way her eyes widened at his compliment, and he felt a little bit of his anxiety disappear upon seeing her blush, “You- Peter, are you saying that you were actually staring at me?” 

“Y-Yeah. I…I think I’m falling for you, [Name]. I have no reason or explanation as to why I like you so much, but I do. A-Actually, no, I kn-know why I keep staring at you, it’s because you’re just an a-all around amazing girl.  I-I’ve become a lovesick loser for you, s-so if it’s o-okay with you, would y-you like to go o-out sometime?” 

When [Name] smiled at him, Peter swore to never forget this moment as she leaned across the table to place a kiss against his lips. 

Definitely yes.”

[end]

title: never fade away

-request: reader is few years younger than jerome.

Ever since you had learned how to talk, you had always heard about all of the crimes that tended to take place in your city. Gotham was a mess, and everyone was well aware of that fact. As the years went on, the news reports of psychopaths and homicidal freaks running around and causing havoc in Gotham became immaterial to the city’s inhabitants. Men who killed and ate women, women who murdered their parents, and boys who killed their mothers weren’t particularly a big deal. After all, it seemed as if things like that happened daily.

As you grew older and made the transitions from elementary school, to middle school, to high school, you managed to create a schedule for yourself. Wake up at 6:30, complain about how you didn’t want to wake up until 7, then rush to get ready and walk to school. You would’ve driven of course, but you didn’t own a car yet. This was due to the fact that you were only 15 and not legally allowed to do that. Then you’d get to school, sit and learn and take tests for 6 and a half hours, then walk a few blocks to get to a theater company for rehearsals until 5. (You preferred to do shows outside of your school’s department because you enjoyed being able to miss school in order to perform.) Then, once rehearsals ended, you walked to a cafe down the street from the theater to study and do homework until it was time to come home. You would’ve just gone straight home to do that last bit, but you focused better in busy places, for some reason unknown. You also enjoyed looking out the windows of the cafe and seeing people go about their daily lives. It was a pastime of yours, and a way to de-stress when school started getting to you.

Gotham was full of tall, pallid buildings that scraped the sky. When you were little, you loved tilting your head as far as it could go to see the tops of them. It seemed as if they were millions and billions of feet tall, never ending. Now, however, you preferred keeping your head down and never looking away from the pavement. Doing the same as everyone else meant you wouldn’t be sticking out or drawing attention to yourself. In a city full of monsters and freaks, being different could grab the attention of one of them. That was the last thing you ever wanted. (You should have known, though. You should have known. No one can can stay backstage forever. Sooner or later you had to stand out to someone. Just your luck it was a maniacal ginger with homicidal tendencies.)

It started on a typical Tuesday. Typical for you, at least. For Jerome, it was the day you changed his life.

The breakout at Arkham had taken place a few days before. This was the day that Jerome and his band of miscreants were to make their debut to the city as the next big group of criminals, the “maniax”. Jerome sat atop the Gotham Gazette building, giving orders on where to throw their victims and cackling at every *snap* when another body hit the pavement. As he sat their admiring his handiwork, watching the people below in horror each time a new body hit the ground, something caught his eye. Or rather, someone. The girl wasn’t pushing through the crowd to get a better look at the deceased men on the street, but walking away from it. He was enthralled by her. She walked briskly down the street, not even bothering to look in the direction of the crime scene he had created.

He was offended at first. This was art, or course, and he had made it! Everybody should have been captured by it, and yet, the girl wasn’t! But then he got a clearer look at her face, once she got closer to where his view was.

He nearly stopped breathing once he saw her. She had to have been younger than him, this he could tell just from seeing her. How much younger, he wasn’t positive, but it was now his mission to find out. He wanted her age, her name, where she lived, and how to get her. He found her astonishingly beautiful. She had captured his attention, and he found it only fitting that he had to do the same to her.

Immediately after the job was finished and he was back at his savior’s penthouse, he told him all about her and how urgent it was that he found her as soon as possible.

“She just had this… this face, Theo,” he told the man, who was instantly interested as soon as Jerome began speaking of some girl on the street. “She looked so pure. And innocent. I think she’s young, younger than me, but I don’t care. That’s not what’s important here, my friend. What’s important is that we find her so that I can have her. I need to find her.” And find her he did. After describing what he could of your face to the man and his sister, they set out their sources to figure out all the information they could about the girl.

One man who worked for him reported back that she went to a school in the area, her name was (y/n) (l/n), and that she walked to and from every day. As soon as Jerome heard this, he got giddy. He could finally get her! The girl who hadn’t left his thoughts since the day he first saw her! He knew nothing of her personality, but hoped she was exactly how he imagined her- pure, bubbly, carefree, and willing to become his.

Not long after he found out who she was, he struck to get her.

For you, nothing seemed out of the ordinary that day. Your walk to school was the same as it had always been, and your day had been relatively mundane and just like the rest of them. You went to rehearsals right after school with some friends. Once it was over, headed to your favorite cafe to do homework and get some coffee. You walked out the doors of the school and began down the empty sidewalk that led to the busy streets of downtown.

Nothing seemed unusual, as nothing ever did. At least not until you were grabbed by someone. They placed their hand over your mouth to muffle your screams, and had a rag with some chemical on it, you could smell it. A few breaths, and you got dizzier and dizzier, and you realized that you were being kidnapped and drugged and fought to stay awake. That was a futile attempt, much to your later dismay.

You awoke tied to a chair in an open room, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. You looked around the room to familiarize yourself with your surroundings, and the first thing that caught your eye was a handsome, tall boy with ginger hair and a chilling grin placed on his porcelain face.

“Good! You’re awake! Nice to meet you (y/n), the name’s Jerome.” He stepped closer to you and knelt down at your side. His face was dangerously close to yours. “Now, I know this is all very sudden for you,” he took on a serious tone, “but I promise there’s nothing to worry about. I know you’ll be happy here. You have me, of course, who wouldn’t be!” The boy let out a chuckle at himself. “But no good relationship can happen without background information. So. How old are you, (y/n)? What are your hobbies? What do you like to do?” His fingers traced lightly along your arm as he spoke, his voice low, like a whisper, and you got goosebumps.

What in the world was he talking about? Good relationships? “Having” him? Your mind was racing for an explanation. You didn’t want to consider the obvious answer, that he kidnapped your for the express purpose of becoming your boyfriend. That thought nearly revolted you, and also scared you beyond belief.

,p>“Babes? He-llo? You there?” His hand waved in front of your face and brought you back to reality. “Are you gonna answer my question, or am I gonna have to get one of my friends to find out for me?”

“Fifteen,” you whispered, your throat dry and voice hoarse. Jerome noticed this.

“Poor thing. You need some water.” He stood up and stroked your hair as he walked away. He returned with a glass of water and brought it up to your lips for you to drink. You took a sip, the refreshing cool liquid soothing you, and he was content. “So fifteen huh? I figured as much. Not a terrible age gap, anyhow. I’m eighteen,” he gestured to himself. “So tell me something about yourself, (y/n). What do you like?”

You knew it was best to go along with the conversation, at least for now. Upsetting a person who was obviously very mentally unstable was not very appealing. “Um, I… I like acting,” you told him quietly, the fear overtaking your ability to speak loudly.

This information perked his interest. “An actress?” He smiled. “Then I think that’s something we have in common, girlie. I happen to be an actor. I’m good at getting peoples’ attention. D'ya catch a glimpse of my latest work?” He grabbed a newspaper and pointed to a picture on the front page. Dead men lay on the ground in a line, with letters spray painted on them which spelled out “MANIAX!” He took notice of your widened eyes and said “Yeah, my guys and I did that. I’m the boss of our little gang. We’re gonna be pretty big.” He was so confident of himself. You ventured to think even narcissistic. “Lucky for you, though. You get to be a gangster’s girlfriend. D'ya know that?” he asked, kneeling back down in front of you. His hands placed themselves on either side of your head and he pushed a few stray hairs behind your ear. “I’ll keep ya safe, of course. I won’t let anything hurt you. You’re too young to get hurt. Too pure.” His eyes stared unfaltering into your own.

Just be quiet, just stay calm, you thought to yourself. If you don’t react, maybe he’ll lose interest. Maybe he’ll let you go. You can get through this, you told yourself. His attention was brought away from your face suddenly. “Oh! I almost forgot.” He stood up and moved behind you, and untied your hands so that you could move them. “I hope they weren’t too tight. Just didn’t want you freaking out when you woke up.” He moved to untie your legs next, and when he was done, he carefully grabbed your arm to help you stand up. He started to lead you out of the room and said, “I promised Babs and Tabitha I’d bring you to them when you woke up. They’re so excited to have another girl to play with. But don’t worry, babe. If you wanna leave I’ll be right there. I just want you to be happy, (y/n). We can be happy together.” He’d stopped walking and looked directly into your eyes as he towered over you.

You were determined to not let your fear show. But as he spoke of the two of you being together, you were inwardly having a small panic attack. Did this mean you’d never see your family again? Would you ever be able to even leave this place? Was he expecting anything from you aside from your good graces and willingness to be with him?

He saw the look of panic momentarily take over your angelic, radiant face, and frowned. “No, no, don’t be afraid! Don’t worry about a thing, baby. I’ll always be right by your side. There’s nothing to worry about. I’ll always keep you safe. You’re too innocent to be hurt, don’t you see?” He pulled you into him and you were encompassed into his strong arms. He gently stroked your hair and it brought you chills. You could see it now. There was no escaping your predetermined fate. It was obvious he wasn’t planning on letting you go anytime soon.

[Hello amigas!! I hope you all enjoyed this!! @blake-livelys-hair I hope this wasnt too much of a failure ahaha i know it kind of went away from what you said but I hope i did you justice lol]

I have visited Iraq five times since 2007, and I have seen nothing like the suffering I’m witnessing now. I came to visit the camps and informal settlements where displaced Iraqis and Syrian refugees are desperately seeking shelter from the fighting that has convulsed their region.

In almost four years of war, nearly half of Syria’s population of 23 million people has been uprooted. Within Iraq itself, more than two million people have fled conflict and the terror unleashed by extremist groups. These refugees and displaced people have witnessed unspeakable brutality. Their children are out of school, they are struggling to survive, and they are surrounded on all sides by violence.

For many years I have visited camps, and every time, I sit in a tent and hear stories. I try my best to give support. To say something that will show solidarity and give some kind of thoughtful guidance. On this trip I was speechless.

What do you say to a mother with tears streaming down her face who says her daughter is in the hands of the Islamic State, or ISIS, and that she wishes she were there, too? Even if she had to be raped and tortured, she says, it would be better than not being with her daughter.

What do you say to the 13-year-old girl who describes the warehouses where she and the others lived and would be pulled out, three at a time, to be raped by the men? When her brother found out, he killed himself.

How can you speak when a woman your own age looks you in the eye and tells you that her whole family was killed in front of her, and that she now lives alone in a tent and has minimal food rations?

In the next tent, I met a family of eight children. No parents. Father killed. Mother missing, most likely taken. The 19-year-old boy is the sole breadwinner. When I comment that it is a lot of responsibility for his age, he just smiles and puts his arm around his young sister. He tells me he is grateful he has the opportunity to work and help them. He means it. He and his family are the hope for the future. They are resilient against impossible odds.

Nothing prepares you for the reality of so much individual human misery: for the stories of suffering and death, and the gaze of hungry, traumatised children.

Who can blame them for thinking that we have given up on them? Only a fraction of the humanitarian aid they need is being provided. There has been no progress on ending the war in Syria since the Geneva process collapsed 12 months ago. Syria is in flames, and areas of Iraq are gripped by fighting. The doors of many nations are bolted against them. There is nowhere they can turn.

Syria’s neighbors have taken in nearly four million Syrian refugees, but they are reaching their limits. Syrian refugees now make up 10 percent of Jordan’s population. In Lebanon, every fourth person is now a Syrian. They need food, shelter, education, health care and work. This means fewer resources available for local people. Far wealthier countries might crack under these pressures.

Stories of terror, barrel bombs and massacres have acquired an awful familiarity. There is a great temptation to turn inward, to focus on our own troubles.

But the plain fact is we cannot insulate ourselves against this crisis. The spread of extremism, the surge in foreign fighters, the threat of new terrorism - only an end to the war in Syria will begin to turn the tide on these problems. Without that, we are just tinkering at the edges.

At stake are not only the lives of millions of people and the future of the Middle East, but also the credibility of the international system. What does it say about our commitment to human rights and accountability that we seem to tolerate crimes against humanity happening in Syria and Iraq on a daily basis?

When the United Nations refugee agency was created after World War II, it was intended to help people return to their homes after conflict. It wasn’t created to feed, year after year, people who may never go home, whose children will be born stateless, and whose countries may never see peace. But that is the situation today, with 51 million refugees, asylum-seekers or displaced people worldwide, more than at any time in the organisation’s history.

Much more assistance must be found to help Syria’s neighbors bear the unsustainable burden of millions of refugees. The United Nations’s humanitarian appeals are significantly underfunded. Countries outside the region should offer sanctuary to the most vulnerable refugees in need of resettlement - for example, those who have experienced rape or torture. And above all, the international community as a whole has to find a path to a peace settlement. It is not enough to defend our values at home, in our newspapers and in our institutions. We also have to defend them in the refugee camps of the Middle East, and the ruined ghost towns of Syria.

—  Angelina Jolie’s speech on the Syrian and Iraqi refugees.
I Really Missed Home.. Part 1

Requested by @jokerxharlez : Can you do a reader x joker where Batman’s sister is a good girl and stuff until she meets Joker and they sleep together (smut) and she becomes Jokers lover but Batman catches both of them ??

Authors Note: So there was no specification on how this would end.. you know happily or not so… happily…SOO I hope you like my ending??

AUTHORS NOTE PART 2: Okay so I had a lot of fun with this one SOOO THIS WILL BE A MULTI PART IMAGINE

Warnings: Smut, some mild daddy kink (bc Joker, duh), some swearing, mentions of death and mild drug/alcohol usage.

Keep reading

Requested by nekorurun

Pairing: Kageyama/Hinata
Theme: college!au: treadmills

Hinata didn’t mean to get in a competition with the boy on the treadmill next to him, but sometimes things in life just seem to happen on their own.

It had started out as just a daily jog for him. Hinata had waited his turn for a machine to open up and warmed up for a bit before finding a comfortable pace to run at. It had been another pretty tough day of classes. A pop quiz in math discussion, an exam he forgot about in history, and forgetting his money so he now owed Nishinoya lunch.

He decided to run off the stress.

About ten minutes later, the machine next to him was taken. Hinata didn’t mind. It was normal, after all.

But it was when he looked over and saw that look of superiority that the redhead grew annoyed.

“Oi! What’s with your face?”

“Ah?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and Hinata realized that it was Kageyama, the one Nishinoya had warned him about. “…Nothing. Your speed’s just slow.”

“Heh?! What did you say?!”

“Are you deaf, or…?”

Growling, Hinata turned back to looking at the buttons, raising a thumb and pressing it to up the speed. He heard Kageyama do the same after a bit–apparently he wasn’t willing to be out done by Hinata–and found himself sprinting.

Both were breathless soon; they were running too hard for an easy jog and ignored the odd looks from people around him. But neither were willing to back down first, ignoring the burning in their chest, how dry their lips became from the panting.

And then suddenly, Hinata tripped over his feet.

One moment he was on the verge of grasping the hand rails to not go flying off, the next moment he was flying off. The toe of his left shoe met the heel of his right and he gave a yelp as he fell forward, the moving ramp sending him flying back. Kageyama gave a short laugh, a harsh one from how hard he was breathing, before he did the exact same thing, flying off and landing next to Hinata.

Hinata broke the silence.

“L-l-l-loser!!”

Kageyama stared at him incredulously.

“Y-you did the e-exact same thing, y-you know!”

“Th-then you copied me!!”

“Like anyone would want to copy you!!”

Rant on antisemitism

How do people think it’s over
HOW
People think it ended magically with the holocaust.

I’ve met people who think I’m literally not human. I’ve met people who have said they wish they could kill me. I’ve met nazis. I’ve met holocaust deniers.
I went to a Jewish preschool as a child. It had to have police at all entrances at all times, because they were worried that it would get shot up. IT WAS A PRESCHOOL. I thought all preschools had police guards until recently.
My local Jewish youth center was shot up the other year.
My synagogue had swastikas spray painted on it. It’s in the middle of a very safe neighborhood. The people who did it where never caught. They could be literally anyone. I might KNOW them. Their kids could go to my school.
Antisemitic attacks seem to happen daily in Europe.
Every time there’s a big crime committed I have to sit back and pray that the criminal doesn’t have a Jewish sounding last name because if they do I know it will lead to a spike in antisemitic hate crimes

There is a white supremacist meeting happening somewhere right now. Right now there are people sitting around and talking about how I deserve to die. There are people saluting to the man who murdered six million people for being like me. Theres a white supremacist group somewhere talking about their plans to murder someone for being like me.

I could be the next antisemitic hate crime victim. Not many would care. Some people would celebrate the death of s Jewish person.

But most people would continue to sit back and continue to say “antisemitism died with hitler”

avengethatbooty  asked:

yeah! Sorry about that! How do the GoM + Kiyoshi + Kagami apologize/make up for a fight with their s/o?

I’m so sorry! Just when I was about to finish your ask, it deleted >~<! Gomen Asi!


Kuroko: Arguments was something Kuroko and you barely had, but today you two had one over something so foolish. That foolish thing was basketball, he has been so into it that it seems that he has completely forgotten about you existing. You felt like a shadow! Once Kuroko heard how you felt he immediately felt guilty, he knew exactly how you were feeling and he didn’t want you, as his s/o, to feel that ignorance and pain. “______-chan, I’m sorry you feel that way. I will make sure you will never feel that way again.” Not only was he apologizing but he held Nigou in his hands. Somehow whenever he had Nigou around, you always seem to lighten up.

Kise: Arguments happened daily between the blonde and you. You felt like he was talking to so many girls and just putting you behind. The fangirls would always say, “You’re not his type!” Or “He’ll break up with you sooner or later…” It broke your heart about how little did the blonde know. Once Kiss figured out what had happen, culpability flooded over him. “____-cchi!  Forgive me please! I’m sorry for being such a bad boyfriend!!!” The blonde wailed out as he pulled you in a tight hug. Later on he would buy you way to much roses and candy to make up for his actions.

Kagami: This redheaded, moron would never do remember important dates. Like today, for instance, was your birthday but he never even knew until you told him at the end of the day. “You suck you ass!” You screamed as you stormed off. The redhead moron would be so confuse so he got advice from Alex. The next day, Kagami had a bouquet of flowers and two, big gift bags. “I’m s-sorry!”

Aomine: The bluenette had eyes of its own. Since you didn’t have a big rack, Aomine eyes would wander to other girls rack. Finally you had enough, after class you had slapped him hard across his face. “I hate you and your stupid hormones!” Yelling you headed to the rooftop wanting to be far from that baka. Aomine finally realized why you were upset when Momoi had to explain to him repeatedly. “______, I love you no matter what size you are. I’m sorry…” Mumbled the bluenette as he walked up behind you.

Midorima: Having this carrot head as your boyfriend was a struggle. It always seemed like he didn’t care or didn’t love you. Once in every blue moon he would hug you, he didn’t feel like boyfriend material. Takao gave him info on how you were feeling, he technically needed balls. In the hallway he stopped you, pecking your lips. “I’m sorry….”

Murasakibara: This Titan never seemed to notice how upset you were until you were red in the face. “For once in your life, be your age!” You were tired of how you had to take care of him every single day. When the purple headed, giant priced how upset you were he wrapped his gigantic arms around your waist. “I’m sorry ________-chan! I didn’t mean to make you upset!”

Kiyoshi: He has been playing basketball every single day for the last past month. Though what his teammates Didn’t know was that his knee was getting worst and worst everyday. “Kiyoshi please, don’t play today!” You pleaded but he just went instead. Tears went down your cheek, all you wanted to do was protect him. When Kiyoshi came back for practice, he snuggled into you reassuring you that he will be okay. “I’m sorry, don’t worry about me…”

Akashi: The emperor was always direct to you but today you just wanted comfort. “Akashi, can we-…” Without finishing your sentence, Akashi interrupted you to lecture you about your grades. “Ok I get it!” You yelled getting up, but the fast male grabbed your arm. He looked at you bewildered but then took you into embrace. “I apologize, ________.”



Cupcakes / Pack Imagine

request; would you will be willing to write a one shot where the reader knows about the supernatural but not the specifics, so when the pack goes on a mission she ends of stress baking like 120 cupcakes and doesn’t stop until one of them says something about it

a/n; i loved this request and i hope i wrote it the way you wanted!                  without further or do, here it is! enjoy :)

gif creds

Most would like to believe Beacon Hills was a quiet town where nothing ever happened, but the strange incidents that seemed to occur almost daily made it hard for the citizens to see that as true. There were many theories as to why these unusual acts continued to happen, the most popular one being that mountain lions had finally made their way back to California, which was also the same theory that made Y/N laugh out loud every time she heard it.

The night Scott Mccall and his entire friend group showed up to Beacon Hills High School was the night Y/N’s life changed for what she tried to believe was for the better. The same boys who were often sent to the principle’s office during class were the same boys who saved her from a wolf who managed to find it’s way into the library where she studied for an upcoming exam. 

For a while she attempted to forget what she saw; the large fangs that appeared inside her classmate’s mouth and the loud growl that echoed through the entire school, as it all registered as nonsense in her mind. But weeks after pondering over it, she came to the conclusion that she couldn’t just toss those memories out because without Scott coming to her rescue, she probably would have wound up being the next news story fueling those strange theories being tossed around.

Keep reading

I DON’T GET WHY EVERYONE GETS SO FUCKING UPSET WITH FLAPPY BIRD. Like, seriously. Calm down.

Let’s imagine the following scenario: The average (but with slightly lower intelligence) 16 year old girl is casually playing Flappy Bird. Whilst trying to beat her high score of 3, she accidentally hits the top pipe and the bird dies. ‘OH MY GOD AUBFHOUIBGSHIBEGHRGISFHDPBHPOIGR THE CREATOR OF THIS GAME SHOULD FUCKING BURN IN HELL' she screams, while throwing her $500 gold iPhone 5 across the room, thus breaking it.

This probably happens on a daily basis.

It seems like everyone just gets so upset with Flappy Bird. I get it, it’s hard. But if you’re getting frustrated, put down the phone and do something peaceful and stress-reducing. Take a walk. Meditate. Listen to some calm music. Just do SOMETHING so that you don’t turn into an annoying ravaging bitch. 

2

Wayward-Mechanic - by JayEz

A Destiel Tumblr AU

*

TEASER 

Summary: Dean is a part-time mechanic who has to take care of his alcoholic father and his little brother. He is also Tumblr-famous. Meanwhile Castiel, a shy BA student with a small blog, has been admiring Dean aka wayward-mechanic from afar for a very long time, too afraid to attract his attention. 

Until one day, Dean posts a flawed meta about their favorite TV show and Castiel can’t hold himself back. What follows is an epic meta battle between David and Goliath that will profoundly change both their lives.

Warnings: alcoholism, social anxiety

Author’s Notes: I’ve been working on this modern AU for a while and didn’t want to publish until I had a lot of chapters, but then imperfectcas had to do tumblr awards with a fanfic category - so I decided to publish this teaser! I hope you enjoy; let me know what you think! I live for reviews! (and if anyone has the urge to do graphics/art… I will seriously love you forever!) 

Keep reading

@wedreamorwedie ;; continued

Oh, Lily was straight, but the mixture of alcohol and a randomly thrown out dare got her attention. She killed people for a living and was not going to be called a chicken for anything anytime soon. So she got up, giving Daniel -who was severely amused- a look. He, probably more than anyone, would love to see Lily kiss a woman. It was not something that happened daily, yet something that she seemed to have refused until this very moment.

With a brief shaking of her head she approached Clemintine, dragging the girl up from her position to push Clemintine against the wall and kiss her. Her hand moved over Clemintine’s breast. If she’d do this she’d do it well.

   Clemintine turned her head up as she heard her name, and she certainly wasn’t expecting her to go ahead with the dare. The girl looked up at her as she approached, her cheeks flushed as she was pulled up and pushed against the wall. Her eyes closed as her lips automatically moved back against Lily’s out of insinct more than anything else. 

   Hesitantly, her hand moved to press against her back, but apart from that she made no other moves. The girl allowed Lily to control the situation, after all, she wasn’t exactly into girls as much as Clem was. 

Touch- Short oneshot

Genre: Angst, Fluff, AU.

Summary: Phil has haphephobia, and it’s beginning to have effect on Dan and their relationship.

A/N: I’m writing something very similar to this for school, and I figured i would morph it slightly to write another fic as I haven’t in a while.

— —

It wasn’t normal, their way of living, it was obscene and at some points Dan was starting to consider it to be stupid. A word just as dull and flat as his life. But he couldn’t blame Phil, it was a fear, it was something imbedded into his mind, and there was no way of prying it out. Dan dreamed of being held in a lovers embrace, to smell the soft scent of familiarity that was his significant other. His mind would whisk him away into the soft touches of skin on skin, and the lazy morning smiles. His heart would swell at the simple thought of a good morning kiss, one of which would be gentle, and maybe lead on to something more. The days where sunlight was just barely filtering through the blinds, the harsh cold demanding that the people stay inside, and he would have the love of his life to cuddle up to, to curl up with underneath a blanket that seemed to be made from the softest and warmest material. He yearned to hear the gentle and soothing heartbeat when his head rested on Phil’s chest, because to him, all of this meant that he was loved. Yet, despite his want, he would never get the simple things he longed for. All because the person he loved, was afraid of touch. Phil had been like this since the day they met, and Dan was once fascinated by the rare but powerful phobia, yet he never seemed to aid Phil in his fear, all the way up to the given day.

Haphephobia. How stupid, how utterly and disappointingly stupid that someone would fall in love with a man, who hated the feel of skin on skin, who would cry at the mere thought of a hug, who would run in a hurry to get away of any possibility of touching any other god damn human being on this stupid forsaken planet-

“Phil, I’m sorry. I.. I didn’t mean to, I was just handing you the knife.” Dan said flatly though the wooden door. He could hear the soft sniffles, but his heart didn’t ache anymore at the sound. This almost seemed to happen daily, and he had lost his sympathy for Phil. “When you’re ready, you can come out and have supper okay? It’ll be on the table for you.” It ended just like that, Dan had walked back out to the kitchen, and began to finish up the meal they had started only twenty minutes ago. Most would scrutinize him for not helping or comforting the weak, but how could he when he was constantly pushed back? This wasn’t just a struggle for Phil, this wasn’t just a life Phil had to live. This was something that Dan had to live with, watching the man he once loved greatly, relapse every single day into the same fit of tears, and isolation. If asked, Dan would’ve compared it to watching someone die of a terminal disease, every fleeting moment getting farther and farther away from normality. But nobody asked, so his didn’t care to explain.

Dan had eaten supper alone (for the 16th time that month) again, he sat at the table, and set it with cutlery for both him and Phil. He stared at the empty seat, and found himself daydreaming as he ate, his mind letting him delve into what it would be like to hold a conversation at the table, and to talk about the future and normal things. But he was alone, and he was cruelly reminded of that every time he broke himself out of his trance. He felt hollow, he had fallen into a set of routines, making breakfast, going to work, going grocery shopping every fourth day, returning and making supper, and eating alone. As a kid he expected his future to be bright, filled with travel and lovey-dovey experiences, yet he was stuck here, in a place he no longer wanted to be in. He can’t remember the last time he told Phil he loved him, maybe it was because he didn’t love him anymore.

As the sun set, Dan found himself sat on the couch in the living room, the TV acting as white noise to distract his thoughts. He had gone through thick and thin to love Phil, to be here with him and to.. to love him. But now, he was sure it was a fools mistake. His thoughts were twisted and his vision was hazed at the thought of being loved, he fell, he fell too hard and now he was paying the price for it. Dan knew Phil was suffering in his cage, but Dan couldn’t help him, he couldn’t break the glass that encased what once was his best friend. His lips twitched into a bitter smile when he heard soft footsteps trailing throughout the home, and he knew Phil had come out to retrieve dinner. After two hours of being cooped up in the room, he stepped out and sat down at the dining table which just so happened to be put in place next to the couch. Dan’s gaze landed on Phil, and his smile dissipated back to its normal blank slate, and he returned his gaze to the TV, neither uttering a word for the long hour it took Phil to eat his food. What were either of them to say? Nothing happened anymore, there wasn’t a topic that either could bring up that the other didn’t already know about. It had become wearisome, and as Phil came to clean his dishes, Dan had gotten up to go to the bedroom.

The shared the master bedroom within the house, yet Phil had demanded they sleep in separate beds, so they did. Both had single beds, exactly one meter away from each other. However, Dan hardly slept in the bed, he would often sleep on the couch, out of fear his needs would become overwhelming and he would do something that would send Phil into hysterics. Was it too much to ask of Phil to be loved? Was it too much of a strain just to hold the one he promised he would love for ‘forever and always’? It wore down at Dan, so much so that he forgot what Phil had to deal with day in and day out. He had slipped underneath the covers with bland thoughts of the day just passing in his mind, though supper seemed to stand out beyond those thoughts, and he asked the god he didn’t believe in time and time over why they couldn’t be normal couple. But his life wasn’t a romantic film, and he certainly wasn’t scattering rose petals anywhere for Phil to follow. The blankets were tucked up higher near his neck as he heard Phil walk into the bedroom, Dan’s eyes closed and his breaths struggled to become even, however it seemed like Phil believed his faux rest, as he easily undressed and got himself comfortable in his own bed. Dan listened to every little movement, and as the bed creaked, his eyes opened, and the same longing sensation filled the empty cavern that was dug out of his heart.

Sleep was never easy anymore, and Dan was sat on the edge of his bed, the heal of his feet resting on the bed frame beneath his mattress. Heavy breaths were drawn and exhaled, and he watched the man in front of himself, who was sleeping rather soundly. Dan could never understand Phil’s calmness over their situation, he never woke up in his sleep, and he never stirred or woke from nightmares either. Which perplexed Dan, but he didn’t ask Phil, afraid he’d push past the limits. His fingers curled up, hands balling into fists as he watched Phil shift just slightly. He silently wondered what kind of heat Phil would give off, what smell would accompany it. He wanted to know, he wanted to breath in the heavy scent and bask in the feeling of just knowing he belonged to someone. Dan’s arms couldn’t mimic the way Phil’s felt when they were wrapped around his torso, they weren’t as strong and protective, they just resembled Dan’s weakening embrace. Seconds past before Dan realised tears had began to stream down his cheeks, collecting at his chin and dripping down to his lap. He hadn’t cried in a while, figuring he would receive no comfort with the childish action. However, his bottom lip began to quiver, and everything he had managed to keep in was suddenly bursting at the seams. A sob fell from Dan’s lips, quiet and almost hesitant, like he was holding back a breath to keep himself silent. It was followed by countless whimpers and noises of distress, Dan’s breath only picking up as he attempting to keep himself quiet. The pillow seemed oddly tempting to bite to shut himself up, but Dan resorted to getting up, and walking out into the lounge room. Parallel to the nights before he laid down on the leather couch, and curled up into the cold living room, letting his tears dry themselves up as he attempted to fall into a trance that resembled sleep.

Morning light had broken through the dark, piercing through the blinds and creating patterns on Dan’s back. Muted footsteps went throughout the house, gathering things for the sleeping man on the couch. Dan eyes had just hardly opened, an hour having passed though it was still early morning. A squeak of a yawn was forced out as he stretched, and it was then he noticed the blanket the was securely wrapped around him. His eyebrows knit in confusion, and he slowly sat up, elbows cracking as he sat, hunched over slightly. The duvet from Phil’s bed was resting on his lap, and after several moments of staring at the colourful fabric in bewilderment, he brought the blanket up to his face, letting the cushioned duvet squish around his face as he breathed in. His eyes closed for a moment, and he couldn’t help but smile just a little. His heart picked up in it’s pace, and he held onto the fabric with a secure grip, unwilling to let go. He had hardly noticed the duvet being wrapped around his body, but as Phil’s voice broke the silence his eyes opened, and he noticed the man was sat directly in front of him, a tray of fruits and breakfast foods in his lap.

“Good morning.” Phil’s words were soft, and the expression on his face mimicked that of a content persons. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as Dan continued to stare at him, but he couldn’t help but crack another smile when Dan seemed to break out from his thoughts.

“Morning…” Dan returned with a gentle smile. He brought his gaze down to the array of foods, his heart skipping a beat when he heard Phil’s mellow laugh.

“They’re for you Dan.. If you haven’t figured that out.” Phil had said and watched as Dan let the piece of the duvet rest in his lap, a hand emerging from it to nab one of the strawberries. He picked off the leaves, and bit into it, unable to contain the sweet smile on his features.

“You haven’t done this for me in years.” Dan murmured and reached out to take another strawberry from the bowl. The last time Phil had done anything relatively nice for him was about three months ago, when he had booked dinner for the both of them at one of Dan’s favourite restaurants. But something like this was unknown to Phil, given how shy he tended to be, even around the man he had known for years.

“I..I know.” Phil breathed and let himself nibble on a piece of apple he had cut up. “I heard you last night.. And I figured that I would let you sleep in. You deserve to relax..” He said, though the words did hold truth to them, he hand’t completely explained himself, and he knew that. Phil knew the exact reason for Dan’s tears, given the explanation to why he had brought his duvet out for Dan once he had fallen asleep. He knew what Dan wanted, and it killed him knowing he was so afraid of giving him the normal things nearly every other couple had. “I just wanted to try to make you happy for once, instead of the other way around.” He added after a few moments of silence, he knew Dan was staring, but he continued to eat the slice of apple he had picked up, not wanting to provoke something that could break out in a fight.

“I enjoy cooking for you.” Phil murmured, smiling again as Dan did.

Dan couldn’t help but feel a little euphoric, and in a desperate attempt to try not to ruin this, he went along with the conversation. “Do you? I thought you hated the kitchen.” He said, stifling a small giggle. “Because last time you tried to make lunch you nearly started the great fire of London again.” He chuckled a little at Phil’s playful glare, which was accompanied by a loud huff.

“I didn’t know how to use the stove okay, we had just moved here and-”

“I’m joking Phil, I love it when you cook for me.”

Phil’s smiled went a little wry, and he nodded, still watching Dan’s expression carefully. He let out a small breath, attempting to calm himself down as he reached for a raspberry that shared the bowl with the strawberries. He looked up at Dan, and bit the inside of his lip anxiously, keeping a careful eye on the younger as he leaned over slightly, and opened his mouth slightly as h looked at Dan’s lips, with a small chuckle Dan had opened his mouth, letting Phil place the fruit between his lips. Pleased with himself, Phil sat back with a small confident smile, Dan shaking his head slightly at the overly confident (but cute) young man. “What?” Phil said, feigning a small pout.

“Just… You.” Dan murmured, and gestured to Phil with a small nod of his head. “I think I’m finally remembering why I fell in love with you in the first place.” The sentence seemed to strike Phil harder than Dan intended it to, but he wasn’t granted with tears. But as Phil’s body trembled just slightly, a wide smile spread across his lips, his mouth opening and closing as if he were going to say something, but nothing ever seemed to come out. Dan remembered when thy were younger, he could turn Phil into a blushing giggling mess, and that was exactly what he was doing right now. Though now older, Phil still reacted the same way, and Dan could admit, he still loved his best friend.

“I-I don’t think I could ever f-forget why I fell-l in love with you.” Phil stammered, the nervousness evident in his tone.

“Do me a favour, and don’t forget.” Dan’s smile had fallen just slightly, but it still remained, and he fought his mind to continue. “Because when you forget what got you here, you start wondering why you’re still doing this. It doesn’t feel like love anymore, and like anything else, you begin to wonder why you thought this was a good idea in the first place.” He said, maintaining eye contact with Phil as he spoke. “And then it becomes a little heartbreaking.. I’m not sure if you’ve ever felt this way and then comes these thoughts of ‘have I done something wrong?’ and it just continues and continues until everything is set in meaningless routine and-”

“I’m not going to forget Dan. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever.” Phil interrupted, earning a surprised look from Dan. “Because there will come a day, when I’ll hold your hand as we walk down the street, with a two bumbling kids just at the height of our knees. I’ll hold you in my arms when we watch movies, and I’ll never want to let go because then I will know that I’ve finally made it. I’ll never be able to forget, because I’ve always loved you.”

Phil’s hand had found his way to Dan’s, their fingers numbly intwined. Dan sore his heart had stopped beating, and when he finally felt Phil’s touch he had began to cry. He squeezed Phil fingers incredibly tight, and covered his mouth with his free hand as tears flowed from his eyes once more. “I’ll never stop loving you.” He murmured through hiccups and harsh breaths, “I want that family, I want those corny movie nights and I want everything you have to give me. I just want you Phil.” Dan forced the words out as fast as they came to his mind, unable to express his understanding. “I know you’re afraid and I just want to help, that’s all I ever wanted to do was help you. Because Id question our love just because you couldn’t hold me in your arms at night… And fuck it sounds stupid now but I need to share those moments with you Phil, I need to hold your hand and I need to hear the breaths you take.”

There was silence following Dan’s spiel, however the one time they both needed it, it was a silence of comfort and understanding, and Dan thought he’d never get to this point in their relationship, he thought he would be stuck doing the same routine over and over until he was on his death bed. Given he might be doing that routine for months to come, but this was changing something, and everything else was to fall into place just like dominos. He knew it might not come all crashing down at once, but it would all start becoming what they could be, piece by piece, and he realised how willing he was to wait for Phil, and how excited he was to be with the man he loved more than anyone else. He couldn’t feel more stupid for calling out his own thoughts, and thinking he didn’t love Phil anymore. He couldn’t just want something, he had to step up and get it. However now, he was going to help Phil up to the top too.

“I’ll never let go. I promise.”

“It’s been pretty crazy, especially as it’s only our first record. I’d always dreamed of playing bigger venues but I never thought I’d be played on the radio so much. I just always wanted to play gigs to more and more people, but never thought it would happen on the first record. I was expecting it would take people a few albums at least to get to know who we are. We never had a particular game plan to try and get out in front of as many people as we could but it seems to be happening on a daily basis now, more and more people are coming across the record,’ he admits over the hustle and bustle of his dressing room, four hundred miles across the North Sea. ‘It’s amazing – I just got a phone call the other day saying that Every Kingdom had gone back into the top ten!’ - Ben Howard