this will be reported the same minute i see this reposted

Smile Like You Mean It || Peter Parker [[request]]

[[request prompt: …could you do a Peter Parker x reader where the reader is super shy and Peter is paired up with her and he sasses someone and she giggles and he starts falling for her and since they’re both awkward in general it’s super cute and simple.]]

I’m really super excited about writing this, because i’m such a sucker for fluff ♡ i also went a little overboard writing this, so it’s going to be a tad bit long ;w;

tags: {anonymous}

{{added note: for clarification, the reader and Peter are JUNIORS at Midtown High}}

{{request status: closed}}

word count: 6,000+

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


Originally posted by marvelmuggle

Throughout his whole life of attending school, Peter Parker only had one person who seemed to hate him with a burning passion, and that person went by the name of [Full Name]. 

Ned often told him that he was overreacting; that there was no way a quiet girl like [Name] could hate anyone, but Peter honestly believed otherwise. 

Keep reading

Attn Dogblr Photographers

You probably want to check out @doglovershub to see if any of your photos have been stolen and reposted without any attribution. After I was alerted that my photo was stolen, I looked through the blog for only a couple minutes and found at least 5 photos that were recognizably taken from photographers in our community. I’m going through the blog to report all of my stolen photos to get them taken down and you may want to do the same. :/

Dir en grey Tour Mode of MACABRE Osaka Day 1 live report

Well most of it was the same as in Kochi and apparently the prohibition was a misunderstanding, so let me repost this live report with a few precisions:

- Of course they began with Deity.

- Then came Macabre right after, if I remember correctly. Two great songs, but you could tell that the energy had really not been stirred yet.

- In Kochi, sadly for Macabre, the audience definitely became more awake after the first four or five songs, when Dir en grey played Hydra 666 followed by Uroko. In Osaka, thankfully Kyo was really more into the songs this time, so the fact that he danced a lot during egnirys cimredopyh +) an injection really helped hype everyone.

- As I mentioned in the preliminary thoughts, Kyo’s hair is now dyed turquoise, still somewhat bowl cut, definitely in the back. It is not just blue, definitely a little green. Kaoru is blond and it fits him so well, especially with the eyeshadow.

- Drawings coming up, but here were the outfits:
* Kyo: A trenchcoat with a harness on top, and really ample clean pants. Overall a bit too much like a slim Kim Jong Un. Underneath the trenchcoat with studs like on a leatuer biker jacket, he seemed to have a shirt with two cute animal blobs on it. People who were closer may know better. In Osaka, he wore the skinny black jeans with torn knees, and he had a long large coat with a big hoodie, tied around his neck. He used the floating sides to create the illusion of a winged creature when, during Macabre, each member gets illuminated by a huge spotlight behind them, creating odd shadows on the veil in front of the whole stage. Underneath, he had some shirt with a triangular pattern on the shoulders and top.
* Kaoru: A very nice top with naked shoulders, the sleeves were attached to the sides of the abdomen. He had either very ample and low sarouel pants or a sort of long skirt, but what is more interesting is the leggings he had underneath that were like bandages, with some black showing under. * Shinya: white blouse or whatever, as usual essentially. * Toshiya: sort of marshall jacket, similar to what the singer of Lost On You is known to wear, with tight black pants. At Osaka day 1, his jacket seemed blander and he definitely wore a white shirt with a thin black tie. * Die: some long coat with a fur scarf even though it’s a heat wave? With tight pants that resembled the relief you would get if you were to wrap bandage around your legs, with skin actually looking like it showed through in some places. ! – The back of his left leg actually shows a lot of skin. The coat might actually be short and the part below was definitely some sort of long skirt cut on the sides, at Osaka. For the encore, Kyo wore the same pink and black blouse as in the sukekiyo niconico interview, with tight black pants and a sort of bow with two ribbons dropping from it. In Osaka, they were white, rather than black. Die and Shinya wore the cat shirt from the tour goods. In Osaka, Die wore the jam shirt instead. Kaoru had a black long-sleeve long shirt and you could really see the leggings then. Toshiya removed his jacket to reveal a white dress shirt, I believe. - Berry was fun, in the sense that Kaoru and Die took this opportunity to come on the side ramps closer to the audience. All the members seemed to have fun in this song too. The English dialogue in the middle of the song was either cut entirely or way too low to be heard. In Osaka Grand Cube, of course there are no ramps, but Kaoru and Die still exchanged their side of the stage. Overall less fun for the other members, in Osaka, during Berry.

- Overall again the only songs that brought everything out if the audience were more recent ones, but they ended the main setlist with Wake and then Zakuro, which was very emotional. They left and we did not know what to do at all, what was happening. It was silent. After a minute, the chants for the encore began. You could feel that Kyo was not bored at all during those two songs, whereas in others, he would move less, sing just the same rythm as in the album recordings, like in the Psychoconnect Gauze tour. In Osaka, there was less silence, so members left to fans clapping, at least.

- The encore was packed with energy, having notably Kr Cube (Kyo loves this one, he danced and came to the side ramps in Kochi, while he danced a lot but mostly teased the audience with the original arm moves for this song), un deux and Utafumi, ending with Rassetsukoku. In Osaka, un deux was replaced with SUSTAIN THE UNTRUTH and he had us sing along a lot.

- Kyo left early, but Kaoru threw a lot of picks.

- During Ain’t afraid to die, a video of a man getting burnt alive was played, and it was very emotional. It seemed like it might have been refering to some Tibetan cause. Apparently self-immolation is commonly used to protest things. In this and another song, in Kochi, all members except Shinya turned and faces the back, the screen. In Osaka, Kyo was clearly crying at some points.

- A huge disco bell came down near the climax of Zakuro and somehow it felt just right.

- In Osaka, there was almost a back collision between Kyo and Die.

- Also in Osaka, Kyo wanted to walk to the right side of the stage but his mic cord got stuck in the central cage. A staff member came put to help but he tugged it out while singing like a pro, as if it was nothing.

Do not hesitate to ask any questions or tell me what to focus on more, as this is literally my first live report.

Overall, a great show of course, but it did not necessarily make me like my ‘least favourite’ songs more: I loved what I knew I would love.

I cannot say this enough: I do not understand how anyone, but especially the Japanese audience, can simply remain immobile during Dir en grey’s ‘slower’ but so emotional songs. Know that, friend or stranger, I will never remain unmoved and not stretch a hand in your direction if you display sadness. You are deserving of my shoulder muscles cramping progressively.
KINGSMAN PROMPT/Father!Harry, Son!Eggsy- Repost

(Some people said they were having trouble reading after the line break, so I’m reposting w/o it. Sorry for the long post!)

               Harry wanted to do more after Lee Unwin’s death. A medallion and the promise for one favor didn’t seem like enough compensation for a life, three lives if you counted the fact that both Michelle’s and little Gary’s lives would forever be altered. But his hands were tied, so he delivered the medallion, took the verbal thrashing, and walked out of the Unwin household with no intentions of further dampening their doorway—at least that was what Arthur believed. Chester King had made it very clear that Harry was to take no part in the Unwins’ lives, but Harry couldn’t turn away, not when Lee’s death had been his responsibility.

           “It’s the risk of the job,” Merlin told him over a pint a week after Harry had delivered the medallion.  “It isn’t all jokes when we ask for each trainee’s basics.”

           Perhaps not, but Lee’s demise should have never happened. Unable to shake his guilt, Harry took to monitoring from afar, watching over the Unwins. Things were rocky for them, and Harry tried to alleviate some of the burden without being too obvious, but it was evident the strain of losing her husband and raising a child on her own was getting to Michelle. Grocery bills lengthened with lists of alcohol. Michelle began a prescription of anti-depressants. It was clear to Harry that she wasn’t coping well, but when the report came in about her suicide, Harry had been taken back.

           He never thought she’d go so far as to take her own life, to leave her only child alone in the world. Harry spent the night in his office, a bottle of scotch in one hand and a picture of Lee and himself in the other.

           “What have I done, old friend?” Harry asked the worn photograph, which was creased down the center and faded. He’d doomed Lee’s only child, the last of his legacy, to be an orphan. What the boy must be going through, to lose both his mother and father in the same year. Did he have family who would take him? Love him?

           The thought choked Harry. There had been solace in watching over Gary and Michelle, to watch over the last remaining traces of Lee. It had been as if Harry hadn’t had to say goodbye.

           Harry sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of his hand, a gesture he’d never do in front of anyone else, and then set both the bottle and photo down. He turned to his computer and did a search of Gary’s remaining family, to see who would take custody of the boy—of Lee’s son.

           It wasn’t good, to say the least; Michelle’s only living relatives was a ninety year-old aunt from Bath. Lee had a sister in the area, but some digging around showed that she lived in the same squalor as Michelle, and if the number of police reports filed were anything to go off of, it was clear her relationship with her husband wasn’t exactly loving. No, neither prospects would do.

           Harry picked up his phone and called Merlin. “I need a favor,” Harry said as soon as Merlin answered.

           “Not even a hello?” He didn’t wait for Harry’s cheeky response. “I suspected you’d be calling. I got the flag for Mrs. Unwin’s death. You’re not going to ask what I think you are, are you Harry?”

           “You know I am,” Harry said with a slight sniff.

           “Arthur won’t like this,” Merlin pointed out, not that he sounded like he cared. As far as Merlin was concerned, Arthur could take a stroll off a pier.

           “He’ll never have to know,” Harry replied, already formulating a plan in his head.

           Merlin sighed, but Harry could hear the familiar tapping of keys. “You owe me,” Merlin stated five minutes later.

           “I know.” And he really did.

* * * *

           As far as anyone was concerned, Eggsy was his nephew, who’d been sent to live with him while his sister was recuperating in the country. If anyone checked to corroborate the story, they’d find reports of Harry’s sickly younger sibling, Victoria, on record. She was ten years his younger, a widow of three years, and had only one child, a Gary ‘Eggsy’ Collins, who was three months shy of turning eight. And if anyone asked about Gary Unwin, well, they were given a sad smile and shake of the head, the universal sign of the untimely end to life in its prime.

           Harry didn’t really know what to do with Eggsy at first. Harry was an only child and the last time he dealt with someone so little had been on a rescue mission in Prague, which Harry really rather not think about—he still had a scar on his hand from where the kid had bit him.

           Eggsy didn’t seem to know what to do with Harry either. He stared at Harry the first night he arrived, confusion deepening his eyes to a shade of indigo. “Who are y’?” Eggsy asked, head craned back so he could look Harry in the eyes.

           “I’m your uncle, from your father’s side,” Harry explained patiently.

           “No y’ ain’t,” Eggsy stated matter-of-factly, bottom lip jutting out stubbornly. “Only got an aunt on da’s side, and y’ was around before. Few months back, around Christmas.”

           Harry’s mouth involuntarily twitched up into a smile. “Clever boy.” Eggsy’s shoulders straightened at the praise, but his determined look never deflated. Harry clamped a hand down on his shoulder and squeezed. “I’m a friend of your fathers, and he asked me to look after you if anything should happen to him or your mother.”

           Eggsy scrunched up his nose. “How come I never saw y’ before that day?”

           “Your father liked to keep his private life separate from work,” Harry answered smoothly and dropped his hand.

           Eggsy’s lower lip wobbled and he dropped his gaze. “Y’ knew my dad?”

           “I did,” Harry said gently.

           Eggsy sniffed and wiped his nose with the sleeve of his shirt. Harry could see him fighting to keep his expression hard, to hold back the fat tears that were pooling in the corners of his eyes, but they rolled down his pudgy cheeks defiantly. Eggsy let out a shuddered sob and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, futilely staving off tears. “Why’d he leave? Why’d he have to go—why’d mom h-have to…to…”

           Harry dropped to his knees, taking Eggsy’s shoulders in both of his hands, and said, words tight in his throat, “I’m sorry Eggsy. I wish I could change what happened, but I can’t. Know, though, that you’ll never be alone again. I’m here Eggsy, and I’ll always be here for you.”

           Eggsy collapsed against his chest trembling, so small and delicate that Harry was afraid to hold him too tightly, terrified the boy would break beneath his hands. He laid his cheek against the top of Eggsy’s head and held him close, letting the boy cry himself to sleep.

* * * *

           Eggsy loved going to the Estate. It had become his favorite thing over the last three years since he started to live with Harry. He could still remember the first time Harry had brought him there, traveling from the little tailor shop on Savile Row to a giant mansion with an underground lair—because what else did you call it?—via a literal bullet train. How many seven year olds got to say they could do that?

           Even now that he was ten, the wonder of the ride hadn’t faded—in fact, it was greater, because now Harry trusted Eggsy to make the journey himself. Eggsy would travel every day after school from his academy to the Kingsman Tailor Shop, bid Andrew good afternoon, and take the train to the Estate where Harry would be working. He wouldn’t always go straight to Harry, especially since Harry was usually in the middle of something.

           No, instead Eggsy would make his rounds. He’d go and visit the other agents, makings sure to stop by Gawain, who’d have a toffee waiting, and then Lancelot and Percival, who always stopped bickering when he was around. Percival helped Eggsy with his history and Lancelot taught Eggsy how to hold a gun—much to Harry’s displeasure. Eggsy took great pains in avoiding Arthur, who he had decided on his first day of visiting Kingsman Estate, that he didn’t like the older man.

           Eggsy’s last stop before he went off to find Harry—if he wasn’t there already—was Merlin’s office. He loved sitting and watching the tech wizard work on his latest invention. Sometimes he’d even let Eggsy sit and listen in as he instructed one of the agents—other times he’d send Eggsy away, ruffling his hair and promising next time. Eggsy would work on his homework, asking for help even when he didn’t’ need it, just because he liked the attention Merlin gave him.

           Eggsy became a fixed presence at the estate. He stayed there as long as possible, until Harry would finally gather him up and cart him home. The only days he didn’t go to the estate were days he had gymnastics, and even then, Eggsy would usually go straight after practice unless Harry was waiting to pick him up from the gym.

* * * *

           “Pancakes or French toast?” Harry asked Eggsy as the boy slipped into the chair at the breakfast nook. It amazed Harry how quickly they grew. It felt like just yesterday Eggsy had first arrived at his doorstep, only seven years old. Now he was twelve and turning into a spry young man. Gymnastics had filled him out, thickening his awkward limbs with tightly corded muscle. His face was a bit blemished from hormones, and Eggsy voiced his complaint every day about it.

           “French toast,” Eggsy answered. “I’ve seen you fix pancakes. I’m not cleaning up that mess.”

           “Cheeky thing.” Harry chuckled as he grabbed his apron and slipped it on. He went about preparing the French toast, humming to himself as he fixed breakfast.

           “Did you love my dad?” Eggsy asked, after Harry had served the French toast and sat across from him.

           Harry paused, fork and knife poised to cut into the bread soaked with syrup, and gawked at Eggsy. “W-what?”

           “I saw the picture, the one of you and my dad,” Eggsy said, biting into a piece of toast. He chewed, and the seconds it took for him to swallow felt like eternity. Harry could hear his thundering heart between each smack of teeth. Eggsy swallowed and cut another bite. “You were looking at him like he was the world. Like how I see Uncle Percy look at Uncle Lancelot when he thinks no one is looking.”

           Harry set his fork and knife down, drawing in a deep bracing breath. Over the years he hadn’t thought much of Lee—hadn’t allowed himself to think of him—but that didn’t mean that his feelings hadn’t lessened. He still cared fondly for the man. “Yes, I did,” Harry said, carefully, as if he were picking his way across a landmine—and perhaps he was. He’d never addressed the subject of his sexuality with Eggsy, never really considered it. What would the boy say?

           “Did he love you?” Eggsy asked, continuing to eat his breakfast, carrying on the conversation as if they were discussing the weather.

           “I don’t know,” Harry admitted—and perhaps that had been the most tragic part of their relationship, the fact that he’d never know what had existed between himself and Lee.

           “I think he did,” Eggsy said after a moment of mulling over the food in his mouth. “He trusted you with me, didn’t he?”

           Harry smiled and nodded. Neither brought the subject up again, but the air somehow grew lighter, without Harry even realizing there had been a weight to it.

* * * *

           When Eggsy was thirteen he was sent home from school with a high fever. Harry had rushed home from Kingsman estate, transferring the mission he was prepping for to Percival. Eggsy rarely got sick, and over the last eight years, Harry really couldn’t think of a time that Eggsy had ever been this ill, and the thought filled him with a moment of panic, of sheer terror that he wouldn’t be able to take care of his boy.

           As soon as he looked at Eggsy though, lying in bed, bundled beneath a layer of blankets, his face flushed and coated in sweat, Harry’s instincts kicked in. He took Eggsy’s temperature, then placed a cool flannel over his forehead.

           “It’s okay, my dear boy,” Harry reassured Eggsy when he groaned in agony. Harry stroked damp bangs from Eggsy’s face. “I’m right here.”

           He didn’t leave Eggsy’s side the entire night, even when Eggsy puked up everything he’d eaten that day onto the bed. Harry moved Eggsy to his own bed, which only dwarfed the preteen further, and put the soiled sheets and comforter in the wash. Harry made a batch of his mother’s chicken noodle soup, which he coaxed into Eggsy later, after his stomach settled.

           It was a tiring night. Harry monitored Eggsy’s temperature throughout the evening ready to rush him to Kingsman estate for medical attention at any moment. It was close to midnight, and Eggsy had been dozing on and off for an hour, when Harry finally moved to leave the room. A small hand shot out and latched onto his.

           “Don’t go,” Eggsy croaked from beneath the pile of blankets.

           Harry’s smiled weakly. “Of course not.”

           Harry went around and settled onto the bed beside Eggsy. It had been a long time since they’d shared a bed, not since the first few months of Eggsy’s arrival, and Eggsy had woken up in the middle of the night crying. Harry smiled down at Eggsy, throat swollen with emotion, and he realized that soon Eggsy would be grown and no longer need him, and while he was proud of the man the boy was becoming, the thought left him a little heart sick.

* * * *

           Christmas was a quiet affair at the Hart house. Harry decorated modestly, enough to stir up some cheer, but nothing too garish. He always picked a lovely tree though, a beautiful fur that he decorated with glass baubles and ornaments that were family heirlooms. It was a grand time. Merlin would pop in for visits, and Lancelot and Percival, along with Percival’s niece Roxy, would join them for a big supper. It became a tradition for them all to gather around the holidays. Eggsy loved when Roxy came over, because she was sharp as a whip and the only one his age who seemed to have her head on straight—not many kids knew the difference between an AR15 A4 and a Heckler & Koch HK416 (Merlin’s favorite).

           It was around Eggsy’s fourteenth Christmas, his seventh with Harry, that he realized his slight infatuation with Merlin may lean more towards the crush side, and that maybe, just maybe, he fancied blokes as well as birds. He’d been surprised when he learned you could like both, and he hadn’t thought much of it at first; he knew you could like blokes instead of girls, after all Percival and Lancelot were together, and he  knew Harry fancied men, but he never knew you could be interested in both. Boy did that open up a door for him.

           He got around to experimenting, flirting with some of the lads in his class, but it never accumulated to anything. He even tried kissing Roxy once. Got a bloody lip for that one. She clonked him real good and told him if he ever tried that again she’d beat him bloody—which he was pretty sure she’d already done.

           But on his fourteenth Christmas, Harry got spirited off on a mission, so Eggsy had to go stay with Merlin.

           “I can take care of myself, you know,” Eggsy had insisted as Harry prepared to leave. He jutted his bottom lip in what he was sure a petulant pout and glared defiantly at Harry. “I’m not a child anymore.”

           “If you aren’t, then why are you still making that face?” Harry had admonished. He had stopped in front of Eggsy, a black bag in one hand, and laid his other hand on Eggsy’s shoulder. “It isn’t that I don’t trust you, it’s that I don’t trust the rest of the world. Please understand, son.”

           It was the first time Harry had referred to Eggsy as his son, and any argument Eggsy had building up inside him. He had simply hugged Harry, made him swear he’d come back home safe, and obediently packed a bag of his own to take to Merlin’s.

           It wasn’t the first time he’d been to Merlin’s house. He loved going over to the wizard’s flat. He had all the latest game systems, a killer entertainment center, and some tech that wasn’t even on the market yet. Last summer Merlin had helped Eggsy build his own computer. Merlin’s flat was Eggsy’s second—or maybe third?—home. He even had his own room.

           It happened the third night Eggsy was staying at Merlin’s. If Eggsy ever thought back to the event, it really wasn’t that big of a deal, but in that moment, Eggsy had felt like his entire world had been flipped upside down. Merlin had stepped out of the bathroom as Eggsy was getting ready to go in, a towel slung low on his narrow hips. It was the first time Eggsy had ever seen the man shirtless, and my God did it steal his breath. He’d never seen so many tattoos before.

           “Bloody hell,” Eggsy had gasped, staring unabashedly at the older man. “Wicked ink.”

           Merlin chuckled and ruffled his hair. “Thanks, lad. Don’t tell Harry ye found out, eh? I don’t need him getting onto me about exposing you to something ungentlemanly.”

           Eggsy nodded, unable to tear his eyes away. Merlin’s arms were covered in what looked like intricate Celtic armor. His chest was bare, but when he continued down the hall, Eggsy caught a glimpse of the armor turning into what looked like an intricate network of cables and wiring, as if Merlin’s back had been turned into a machine.

           Eggsy proceeded into the bathroom, a feeling stirring in his gut that he’d never experienced before. This wasn’t like when he checked out the girls or blokes at his school, or when he looked at pictures on his computer. This was something carnal and wild and it left him completely giddy and breathless, and maybe even a little bit terrified.

* * * *

           Eggsy went to the Olympics when he was seventeen and won a gold medal in the Rings for gymnastics. He graduated school, got kidnapped shortly after, and was rescued by a large team of Kingsman led by Harry, who massacred the entire Slovakian mob who dared touch his son. Eggsy proceeded to university (Cambridge, no less) where he went in for engineering, dated on and off for awhile, but never had a serious relationship. His longest one lasted a month with a bloke named Charlie Hesketh, but the guy was a bit of an aristocratic prick, so Eggsy dumped him.

           It was shortly after Eggsy graduated from university that things started to spiral downhill. Lancelot was killed on a mission. It was hard enough to deal with the loss of a man he considered an uncle, but then Eggsy got into a row with Harry over joining Kingsman to fill the spot of Lancelot. It had been the endgame for Eggsy all along. He knew he wanted to follow in Harry’s footsteps, he’d known it since the day Harry had sat him down and explained that he was an international spy. But Harry didn’t want that for Eggsy. He wanted Eggsy to live his life free of secrets, to be able to enjoy life, and experience love and friends beyond Kingsman.

           It would have all been fine if Harry hadn’t been shipped off on a mission shortly after their fight. Harry left, telling Eggsy before he did, “We’ll sort this out when I return.”

           Only Harry didn’t return. Eggsy saw it all happen from Harry’s laptop. He watched Harry lose himself in savage violence. It was one of those gruesome car accidents; awful to look at, filled with so much blood and carnage, but no matter how many times he told himself to look away, he couldn’t. And then that man with the lisp shot Harry.

           Eggsy screamed. He screamed and screamed and screamed. He didn’t stop until he was sure his vocal chords were shredded, and even then he felt a pathetic scream bubbling beneath the surface. He rushed to Merlin’s flat, but when the man wasn’t there, he went to Kingsman estate, a right mess. Merlin held him through the night, his own eyes misted over and red.

           It came to light the next day that Arthur was behind it. No one questioned when Arthur was discovered dead in the meeting room, poisoned. It still was unclear if it was Eggsy or Merlin who had administered the deadly dose.

           When Eggsy went with Merlin to collect Harry’s body, after the V-Day fiasco was done and over with, they discovered that Harry was alive and at a hospital in Kentucky. Eggsy rushed into the room and practically vaulted onto the bed, clutching Harry tightly. He was in a coma, so Harry never heard Eggsy’s sob, “You said you’d never leave me, you promised. I can’t lose another father. I need you.”

* * * *

           Harry made a full recovery, but he lost his left eye and now suffered from chronic migraines. There was a tremor to his hands as well, one that hadn’t been there before, so he could no longer do field work. After a long extensive process, Harry was voted in as the new Arthur. That left two vacant spots to be filled with Kingsman: Lancelot and Galahad.

           Harry bid for Eggsy. Percival bid for his niece Roxy. The training was hard, a lot harder than Eggsy had expected, but he refused to let Harry down. And if Eggsy also used his new position as a chance to flirt with Merlin, well, could anyone blame him? Merlin was a fine wine, and he’d only gotten better with age. Plus, he saw the way Merlin’s gaze lingered longer on him than the other candidates. And there were several times Eggsy was sure Merlin was standing on the other side of the two-way mirror as he showered. If Eggsy was alone, he always put on a show.

           “You know, one of these days you’re going to cross a line with him and then there’ll be no turning back,” Roxy said one night after a long training sessions. The candidates were down to five.

           Eggsy flashed Roxy a dimpled smile and winked. “That’s the point love.”

           She threw her hands in the air and grumbled, “You’re incorrigible.”

* * * *

           Roxy had been right, of course. When wasn’t she right? It was after their second to last test, when the candidates had been narrowed down to three people: Eggsy, Roxy, and a bloke named Rufus. After everyone went to bed, Eggsy snuck out of the dormitory and found Merlin in his office, studiously working away.

           “Ever call it quits, mate?” Eggsy asked as he strolled in, two cups of tea in hand.

           “You’re supposed to be in bed,” Merlin pointed out as he accepted the tea.

           Eggsy shrugged and slipped onto the edge of his desk. “Couldn’t sleep?”

           Merlin rolled his eyes and took a sip of tea. “What are ye doing here, lad? And get off my desk, it isn’t a chair.”

           Eggsy huffed, set his mug down, and hopped off the desk. He retrieved a chair and brought it over, making a show of crossing his legs. He wore only a pair of low riding sweat pants and a tight white t-shirt, which left little to the imagination. “Thought I’d keep you company.”

           “Ye have a long day ahead of ye tomorrow,” Merlin pointed out, setting his mug aside. “Go to bed.”

           Eggsy pouted. “Come on, you use to love it when I kept you company.”

           “That was when ye were eight and cute,” Merlin said, though the statement was softened by a smile.

           “You saying I’m not cute?” Eggsy tipped his head to the side, stretching his neck out to expose a long column of flesh. He didn’t miss the way Merlin’s gaze gravitated to the skin, or how his stare drifted down, lingering on his well-muscled chest.

           Merlin coughed in his hand and turned away. “Ye know you’re good-looking.”

           Eggsy bit back a grin and scooted a little closer, leaning forward to purr in Merlin’s ear, “So you do think I’m cute?”

           “What are you doing?” Merlin asked stiffly.

           “Nothing,” Eggsy said, all the while slipping his hand around Merlin’s waist, feeling the hard contours of his abdomen beneath the jumper.

           Merlin grabbed Eggsy’s hand to stop him. “Eggsy, go back to the dorm.”

           Eggsy paused, brows knitted together. “I don’t want to.”

           “Stop acting like a child.” Merlin shoved Eggsy’s hand away. Tension tightened across his shoulders.

           Eggsy recoiled. “You’re right, I’m not a fucking child. So why are you treating me like I’m one? Don’t pretend that you don’t look at me like you want to fuck me.” He straightened himself, regathering his courage. “I want it, if you haven’t been able to tell.”

           “You’re my best friend’s son,” Merlin snapped, turning to glare at Eggsy. All the look did was make Eggsy want him more. There was something breath-taking in the way Merlin got furious. His gray eyes grew smoky and smoldering, and desire pooled in Eggsy’s gut, running hot through his veins.

           “And? I’m also a consenting adult,” Eggsy pointed out. “Harry isn’t in this equation.”

           “For fuck’s sake Eggsy, I practically helped raise ye. It be wrong.”

           “Tell me you don’t want me, that it’s all in my head, and I’ll walk away,” Eggsy said, hands balled against his thighs. “Because that’s the only excuse I see that has any credit here. Everything else is bullshite, and you know it.”

           Merlin’s jaw tightened, ticking away as the seconds stretched out. Eggsy tried not to squirm as the silence grew louder. He could practically hear Merlin’s teeth grinding. Finally Merlin blew a long sigh through his nose and growled, “You’re going to be the death of me.”

           Eggsy grinned toothily, taking that as a yes, and launched into Merlin’s lap. Their lips crashed together and it was everything Eggsy had thought it would be. When it was over and they were both stretched on the floor, naked and panting, Eggsy’s limbs stiff from the positions Merlin had held him in, bits of tech scattered on the floor, along with a broken mug and paperwork, Merlin drew Eggsy against his chest, one hand tangled in his damp hair, and said, “Your father is going to kill me when he finds out.”

           “Then we best not tell him,” Eggsy said, already sliding onto Merlin’s lap. “Ready for round two, old man?”

* * * *

           Harry found out, of course. Keeping things from him was next to impossible. Harry had a sixth sense for sniffing out secrets. It was almost terrifying. Merlin and Eggsy had barely gotten into a week of their relationship when Harry discovered them. It was after the final test, when Eggsy and Roxy were being initiated into Kingsman. After the ceremony, Harry had clamped a hand on Eggsy’s shoulder and said, “I’m proud of you, son.”

           Merlin came over to congratulate Eggsy on becoming the newest Galahad. They’d only looked at each other, a small smile shared between them, when Harry roared, “You bastard, you slept with him!”

           Merlin immediately stiffened and launched into his defense. “Harry, I can explain—”

           “I’m going to murder you,” Harry growled.

           Eggsy clamped a hand over his mouth to stave off the laughter. “Dad,”—laugh—“I can”—snort—“damn it, don’t kill him—”

           It took Gawain and Tristan to hold Harry back. Eventually things settled down, and Eggsy took Harry aside to talk to him about the matter. He wasn’t pleased, but after Eggsy explained how much he cared for Merlin, and that he’d always been in love with the older man, and how unbelievably happy he was, Harry sighed and conceded. He never could say no to his boy.

           Eggsy hugged Harry tight, whispering to his father, “Thank you, for everything.”

|| loving normal ||

{summary: an au where celebrities and normals are separated.}

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and is not meant to represent the celebrity’s actual life/lifestyle.

warnings: mentions of drug use, attempts at rape

**do not plagiarize/repost this story**


Harrison Osterfield made it his personal mission to be a celebrity.

Why, you ask?

It was solely because of this system that was implemented in his world.

Celebrities were basically treated like real life gods and goddesses where their sole purpose was to make the whole world adore them with their talents.

They were allowed to bask in their fan base and make all of their fans weak in the knees at the mere sight of them.

Keep reading

Loss (Prentiss x Reader)

Originally posted by cm-daily

Title: Loss

Pairing: Prentiss x Reader

Request: How about an Emily Prentiss x reader where they were engaged and completely in love and then she ‘dies’ and the reader is so distraught like she’s smoking and drinking and the team is worried and then Emily comes back and the reader just doesn’t leave her side and then the wedding? Sorry it’s so long aha

Triggers/Warnings: Explicit Language

Words: 1,174

A/N: No problem! Anything for you honey! I wasn’t sure if this request was from a male or female, so I made it that it could be either. My writings can have homosexual themes as well, I have absolutely no problem writing those, as I am bisexual. Also, I decided to release this one a bit early as I want to get started on the next one <3

A/N2: I only reposted this because I forgot to put a GIF in with the first time xD


Your eyes darted around the room. It was spinning like a whirlpool. You licked your lips, tasting the expired alcohol. Your stomach was in knots and you could feel no heartbeat. A huge BANG echoed through your eardrums as your lifeless body slammed against the floor. The last thing you saw before everything went black was her photo.


“Y/N, Y/N. Wake up,” a singsong voice startled you, causing you to return to consciousness.

“There you are,” the same voice spoke in a breathy tone.

Looking up, it felt like you had a pulse again, a heartbeat started again. It was almost like you could hear bells ringing in your ears.

Your fiancé Emily was knelt down over you. Her eyes were soft, full of comfort and relaxation. Her hair was swept back and she almost seemed to be glowing. Come to think of it, the whole room was blurry. Except for her. She was crystal clear, almost like a camera and all the focus was on her.

You tried to speak, but she pressed a finger to her lips, “No, no. Hush. I love you Y/N. Remember that.”

She then reached down, clasping both your shoulders and started shaking you.

“Em-Emily what are you,” you croaked.

“WAKE UP, WAKE UP, WAKE UP Y/N,” she screamed. Her image then went fuzzy and her face morphed into someone else.

Derek Morgan took Emily’s place, a look of panic and worry plastered across his face.

“Em-Emily. She was here,” you frantically sat up and your eyes scanned every corner of the room.

Derek sighed, “No Y/N. She wasn’t. Come on,” he helped you up to your feet and rushed you out the door.

“Where the fuck are we going, I need to see Emily,” you growled as he shoved in the passenger seat of his vehicle.

Derek sighed once again before slamming the door and making his way around to the driver’s seat.

The other door opened and he plopped down into his seat, “Y/N. Buckle up,” he spoke sternly.

Your jaw dropped in awe of his sudden harsh tone. You clamped it shut and said nothing. Pulling the seatbelt over your torso, you stole a glance at Derek who ran the engine and crept out of your driveway.

He caught your eye, “I’m sorry. We’re just worried.”

You rolled your eyes and reached into your pocket, pulling out a box of cigarettes and a blue lighter.

“Don’t be,” you grumbled, lighting a cig and inhaling deeply.

Derek slammed the breaks in the middle of the exit to your neighborhood, screeching to a halt.

He was fuming. He leaned over and yanked the box, the lighter, and even the fucking cigarette from your reach and tossed them out the window before speeding off again.

“WHAT THE HELL,” you screamed in anger. You knew why. Emily’s team, whom you began friends with after being with her, was terribly worried about you. After Emily died, you had sunk into a deep depression, feeling as if drugs and booze were your only friends. Now here was Derek, kidnapping you and taking you to, what you guessed, was Quantico to see the others.

Derek stared straight ahead at the road, not answering you. You crossed your arms and huffed, giving up.

Quantico was literally fifteen minutes away from your home. You had always admired Emily for her dedication to her job and her home life. She wanted to be able to get to work no problem, but still get home to see you.

“I have to show you something. WE have to show you something,” Derek then stated, breaking the eternity of silence.

You just assumed he meant the rest of the team; JJ, Hotch, Rossi, Garcia, and Spencer. You snorted in response. Nothing amused you or made you happy anymore. You couldn’t even remember the last time you smiled.


You pushed the door shut and hesitantly followed Derek through the dark parking garage.

I wish they didn’t have to see me like this,” you thought to yourself. You didn’t need to look in the mirror to know you were a mess. You smoothed out your clothes in an attempt to look exceptional.


The team looked relieved to see you and was eager to drop their reports. They were sympathetic and gentle with you, doing their best not to upset you. The clack of heels behind you, caused you to spin around.

Anytime you heard that noise, you would get some kind of hope in your heart that Emily would be there, arms open to you.

Garcia flounced up towards everyone, “Oh sugar! You look terrible! Lemme get some Green Tea. Solves your problems just like that!” she exclaimed and snapped her fingers, not allowing you or anyone to tell her off for being so direct.

You turned back to your friends, shrugging your shoulders.

“It’s fine,” You said reading their minds.

The clip-clop of heels returned and you couldn’t help, but turn around again. It was a habit, even though you knew it would never be Emily.


“Miss me?” she said in that sing-song voice you remembered from your dream.

You wasted no time in barreling towards her, scooping her up in your arms and spinning her around, squeezing her tighter than ever, refusing to ever let her go.

You smothered her porcelain face with soft kisses. “I love you Emily,” you whispered into her ear. She giggled in response and you sobbed even harder, remembering how you never thought you would hear that noise again.

Pulling away, but still holding her tight, you turned to the rest of the team. They were all teary-eyed, even Hotch. Their warm smiles couldn’t make the room any brighter than Emily’s could.

“Surprise,” JJ blurted out, followed by tears streaming down her face.

You grinned, eyes returning to meet Emily’s.

“I love you so much, Y/N.”


It felt like there was no one there, but you and her. Just you and Emily. Stuck in that one moment. The happiest moment of your life.

“I do,” she stated, your eyes were glued on her and her beauty.

“You may now kiss the bride,” the priest spoke, turning to you.

You took a step towards her and cupped her face in your hands, planting a kiss on her soft lips.

When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against hers, seeing the rest of your lives together in her eyes.

Band Yarouze FES! - Report

*Please do NOT repost any parts of my report anywhere*

Date: 2016/11/20
Venue: Nissho Hall
Casts: Aoi Shouta, Ikuta Youji, Kobayashi Masanori, Kurosawa Tomoyo

As usual, my reports will focus on Shoutan, also I’m not really familiar with the other groups apart from Fairy April, I don’t really know the other Seiyuus either

Band Yarouze goods sale started at 10:00, I never went as there wasn’t anything I wanted.

Doors opened at 16:30, I arrived at the venue just a few minutes before then. Doors was already opened so I joined the queue to get in and made it into the venue pretty quickly.

Flower stands inside

I was near the back, but since the venue was small it was fine, I also had a clear centre view which was awesome :D

Keep reading


I’ve realized more recently that I shared a lot of my life with all the humans that follow my tumblr. This blog started as just a place for me to repost my favorite photos and quotes that made me feel warm inside. Looking through my archives, I remembered how this was also a place where I shared some of my deepest thoughts and feelings, talked with you all about life and love and the meaning of it all, and poured my heart out time and time again. I shared so much of my life with all of you. But what’s even more amazing is how much of your life you all shared with me.

 You opened up to me, someone who you’ve never met in the flesh, and talked with me about your heartbreak, your dreams, your family and friends, your failures and your triumphs. I’ve always had this way about me, this ability to open people up like flowers coming into bloom. I’ll simply be in a book store, waiting for a light at the cross walk, sipping on a cup of coffee and a human I’ve never met before will gravitate towards me and spill out their life story. I’ve always loved this gift. Mostly because I love humanness. I love seeing people smile so wide their face can barely contain it, I love how people twist their hair when they’re being shy, I love the way eyes get glossy when you cry. Bruises, scars, wrinkles, smile lines. I’ve always been in love with any signature of life on a humans body. How we can comfort others just by touching them. Just by being in the same room as them. It’s an honor that people feel safe with me, that they feel as though they can share some of their deepest and darkest secrets with me. And I’ve learned so much about life by listening to their stories. 

Most of you know me as a girl who is very tan, always in a bikini, travels to beautiful places, and lives in Hawaii. Most of you know me through the unreal photos that have captured bits and pieces of my life, like me swimming with stingrays in Tahiti, or on a yacht in the Maldives, or eating a perfectly made acai bowl in Hawaii. 

And that was my life. And it was fucking amazing. I never planned to become a model. I was so shy growing up I would barely talk to my family. So running around flaunting my body in a bathing suit the size of my hand was the LAST thing I saw in my future. But one thing led to another, and eventually all the random dots in my life began to connect. 

I traveled to places I had written school reports about, I met people who I had always loved and admired and even became best friends with some of them (shoutout to Amber Mozo) I watched all my wildest dreams come to life right before me and it was magical. Knowing that things I had quietly manifested years ago were now coming to pass.

But there were bad times too. Behind every beautiful photo was also a lot of struggle. I struggled with feeling like I wasn’t good enough for the life I had suddenly been given. I always felt like I just got lucky. I was a 5′2 shy girl from a town in the middle of nowhere. And all of a sudden I was on a yacht in the Maldives shooting a bikini campaign. Who was I to have a life like this? I asked myself that all the time. I struggled with eating disorders and depression. I moved out at eighteen and spent some time in a toxic relationship and most of my time alone. I lived alone, I had published a book at seventeen, graduated at sixteen, was in college, had a job, was modeling and traveling but STILL I felt like I could do more. I never felt like I was good enough. Even when I gave my best. 

I felt uncomfortable posting a million photos of myself day by day, but I knew to stay relevant in the modeling world that’s what was needed. The problem is with modeling is you have to be self-absorbed to do it. YOU are your own product. You are making money off of yourself. That kind of pressure can drive you insane, especially when my whole life I’ve always set the bar very high for myself. 

I got caught up in taking hot photos. The more skin I was showing, the better. I posted photos with spiritual captions, and although this has NEVER been a lie and I’ve been spiritual my entire life, what is spiritual about a photo of my ass? It was an excuse to post more and more of me. To be more self involved and absorbed. But the minute I would post something I’d suddenly feel guilty because I knew in the mix of 60,000 followers and 40,000 on here, there were teen girls who looked in the mirror and compared their bodies to mine, who compared their life to mine, and went to bed feeling not worthy, not enough. And they had no idea I went to bed feeling that same way every night too.

Side note, I believe the human body is beautiful. Especially a woman’s. I love skin, and tan lines, and nakedness, but I was abusing the beauty of it. I wasn’t posting these photos because they were artistic and I saw beauty in them. I was posting them because I knew thats what others liked and wanted to see. 

Pretending slowly kills you. And my whole life started to feel like one big show. I showed the best parts of my life. Yes, they happened. Yes, they really were incredible. But that was one side of my life. For all the times I spent in the crystal blue ocean in Hawaii, I spent just as much time grocery shopping, crying because I missed my family, going through break ups and new love and just normal LIFE. But I felt like I couldn’t share that, because if I wasn’t traveling across the world or half naked who cared? I felt it wasn’t worthy of sharing. 

Then one day I woke up and I realized how far I had strayed from the girl who I once was. I craved money and power, I imagined living in a mansion with a fast car, I never had enough hot photos of myself, and I had stopped writing stories, I had stopped being open about my life, and instead I was just very good at playing this role. But I was exhausted. 

I once was a little girl who really felt that life was magical. I’m not talking about some voo-doo type magic, although I believe in that too. I’m talking about real magic. When you meet someone for the first time but you feel like you’ve known them your entire life, that’s magic. When you really need something and it presents itself before you, that’s magic. When you’re begging for a sign, and you get it, that’s magic. When you touch someone you love. When the smell of rain brings you a feeling of home. All of this is magic. It’s the magic I have always believed in. And I lost it. Because I started to believe that if I wasn’t traveling to somewhere exotic, or doing something out of this world, then my life was worthless and not worthy of being loved or captured. 

And guess what? IT’S A LIE. Is traveling amazing? God, yes. I’d spend every day of my life in a different city if plane tickets were free. But the point is, you don’t have to be swimming alongside whales to adore your life. I mean, if you get the chance, then by all means fucking do it and please post a million photos on social media so I can rejoice with you. But realize that some days you’re also going to be sitting on your couch watching netflix with the boy you love and guess what?

Both parts of your life are beautiful and magical and worthy of being in love with.

So if you haven’t noticed. My life has changed a lot. I cut off all my hair. I am no longer a bikini model, I’m currently in california following my passion since I had hands which is to be a writer, I’m studying spiritually, dating a boy who’s been my friend for 6 years who I adore, spending time with my family, dreaming of the day I go back to Hawaii with a full and healthy heart, and imagining a different kind of life for myself. 

A life that I love no matter where it takes me. A life where I can continue to be that random girl that people come up to and share their life story with, who people feel safe with, a life where I am in love with the humanness of everything. I imagine my stories in the spines of books, and feeling the energy of the people I love. I imagine starting my own charity one day and traveling the world and enjoying all the magic that life has to offer. 

And I hope I can continue to share it with you all along the way. 

Aoi Shouta LIVE 2016 WONDER lab. ~ Bokutachi no sign ~ 2016/03/13 Report

**Please DO NOT repost photos! Thanks
Some photos were from official reports

I compared this a lot with 5th Stage as that’s the only other Japanese Live I’ve been to.
I’m just going to put the whole report in this one post! As always, it’s personal and long! I just have a lot of feelings, maybe a bit too much…

**Edit: SUPER personal, SUPER long.


Buying goods

If you don’t want to read this then you can just skip to the Live part below~
Please try your best to read the whole of the Live part though. I want everyone to experience the same thing as I did after all.

So it’s only the one day for the goods sale which is on the same day as the live. After what happened with 5th Stage sales I decided I’ll go early.

This is the second live I’ve been to in Japan, so never been to Budokan before, it’s pretty impressive with the traditional gate and building. Never took photos of the outside building ^^;

I was meant to be going by myself, but @jeanette-ting managed to win a ticket last minute and contacted me. Thanks for getting in touch! ^^

So by the time we got there, as expected there was a lot of people already queued up, we had to walk pretty far to get to the end, but at least we can tell how far we were from the start. You couldn’t tell with 5th Stage as everyone was all packed together and you had to go downstairs too.

For some reason they were selling the gacchas separately from the other goods??
But I thought, queue up for the goods first as they are the most important then head for gacchas.

I thought the line won’t start moving until 10am, but we did move gradually which was good!

Even though I was prepared and wore more clothes it was still so cold ><
Girl behind me “Ah, Shoutan da, ‘Ohayou…’” SHOUTAN TWEETED?!? *checks twitter* (pretty much my reaction each time)
Ahhh, he’s such a sweet heart telling us to be careful and not catch a cold
(/ _ ; ) thank you~

I noticed there was quite a lot of guys here, more than there was for Utapri. The number of females still outnumbered the guys of course though.

Moved quite a lot and going round the building, this was behind us. Maybe about 10am here

Thank god we came early!!

We heard a few of Shoutan’s songs playing!! Very quiet though. They seem to reaally liked TRUE HEARTS and played it a lot XD

NO WEAK ⇔ YES WEEK!! And it stopped after a few moments… Nande?! 😒

Selling gacchas there in the left shelter, middle was to buy Zessei STARGATE and pre-order S, right one was for joining his fanclub (LET ME JOIN).

Yes finally! The order list!!!
The quality of the paper was really bad? 5th Stage had really nice paper LOL

Things I ordered. (I realised they never gave me the paper back, glad I took a photo for the memory XD)

I actually already decided to buy at least one of each thing even before they announced the line up.
Because it’s Shoutan 😎 the only thing I didn’t get was the black wrist band as I liked the white more.

Why, pessimistic? IS PLAYINGGGG!!!

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

what happens if we remove your caption

It steals attention away from the original poster and invalidates all of the time we spend making the edits. If the edit came from another source, you are not only doing the editor wrong, but also the person who created the original source. If someone makes a post and asks people of something so simple, why is this a valid question in the first place? The original poster should be able to decide what people should do with it, and there shouldn’t be a problem with people abiding by those rules.

While some only take a few minutes too make, others are actually products of hours spent on trying to make the post happen. Its just downright disrespectful and mean when someone decides to delete the little evidence there is that something is their work; its like whiting out an artist’s signature from a painting. The captions are the small pieces of  identity that shows that the post is theirs that won’t even show up on the blog in most themes. Yes, the source still links back to the original poster, but why cant people just leave the little evidence of the creator left? it doesn’t hurt you in the slightest to not be an asshole and leave the text alone. It’s called being a Decent Human Being™️. That’s the same thing as crossing out Monet’s name from Water Lilies; everyone still knows where the painting is from, but that’s not the right thing to do at all.

This is not to mention that the ownership of a certain piece of work has absolutely nothing to do with the amount of time spent. “They only spent a few minutes on it” is not a valid excuse in misattribution. Take, for example, some abstract paintings. the artist may have only spent a few seconds splattering colors across the canvas; however, i think we can all agree that the art is rightfully his/ her work.  Additionally, if the amount of time spent if your argument, i sure don’t see why you can’t go and make some your own. If you have a problem with captions, you can post your own stuff. 

Worst of all is the fact that the only thing tumblr lets us do about this problem is to report and block the thief; there is no REAL punishment. All I can say is that if you decide to take advantage of this situation, you’re really a piece of shit.

TL;DR: if you remove captions or repost, you’re a scumbag, and i will find, report, and block you.

Stop Reposting SwanQueen fanart

Making a fanart or fanvid is hard.
Build a scene that doesn’t exist in Once Upon a Time is hard and take a lot of hours.
Making a fanart, manip or video is not like ‘yeah I am gonna make it because it’s a moment’.

If someone think this is easy, let me tell you it is not.

It’s not like sitting in your chair in front of your computer and make fanart in 5 minutes.
Making a good manip or fanart take time. You have to focus on the screen for hours. Looking for the best scene, looking for that glance, for that smile, for that gesture in every single episode and take the screencap.
You open photoshop and start the manip or the scene you have in your head. Yes, YOUR vision. YOUR story. YOUR creation and make it real in photoshop.
And you can do it because you had to learn how to do it. Watch a lot of tutorials and be in front of the screen for hours trying to do what you watched in the tutorial.
We know how to do it because it took a lot of time learning how coloring, how to use photoshop tools, how to use layers, etc.
You can’t make this in one day or two.
When you see a fanart, you have to think of all the preparation the user had to do before.

It’s not easy. It’s hard. It’s difficult but we love making this.
Because it’s difficult to avoid that feeling inside when you are watching Once Upon a Time and an idea comes up to your mind. It’s so beautiful to see your creation in despite of all the hours you were in front of the screen.
And when it’s finished you only want to share it with all the Swens. Not to get RT’s or FAV’s. Not to be like “famous” (because we are not. It’s just for fun. It’s not our job. We are not healing anything. We are just people making this about a tv show).

When you finish a fanart or video, you only want to share it with all of you. Because we love SwanQueen and all related to them.

However the sad moment for us, the fanart makers and vidders, comes when people repost your little baby, your creation.
When they delete your signature and upload the fanart like their own creations, or cut your manip to make other fanart. Without credit. Without saying you a word. Without consent.

And when you see your fanart on tumblr, twitter, facebook, without credit or upload it like their own fanart make you sad , upset and angry.
And you are the villain of the story when you ask if they can remove it from their social media. And we are the rude here when you don’t want your own fanart in their social media.

At this point you think, what would happen when we are talking of fanfics? Oh dear… This is different, isn’t it?
If someone takes a fanfic and delete the tittle and upload it like their own story, it’s a crime and people report it.
However when it’s a fanart, only few people report that.
It’s easy to press “save it” and upload without credit.

A lot of fanart makers say “yes” when a swen ask if they can use the fanart. It’s a pleasure and honor someone “wants” your work in their headers or computers.
We are ok if you ask us before.

This hurts more than words can describe.
I have seen how people used my swanqueen fanart for contests. I have seen how people made a manip with my manip. I have seen my videos in other youtube accounts, I have seen how people deleted my signature or cut my fanart to upload it in their tumblr.

I think it’s enough for us, for fanart makers and vidders.
You like seeing new fanart and manips, because you can see swanqueen more real with images or videos.
You support writers when you see someone is stealing their fics. Support us too.
Because we do the same. We “tell” a story through images, scenes and manips.

Stop saying we are rude when we don’t take requests. We are not machines.
We need to feel that “thing” inside and we need to feel inspiration.
Stop demanding covers for your fanfics and get angry when we say no.

If you like our stuff, do something. And report it. No repost it.

Thanks so much for your understanding and support.

I won’t sign this post like misslane but all the swens who make fanart and videos and spend a lot of time making SwanQueen more real for you.

Meryl and Maks Recap September 29th, 2014

Hey guys, 

So today was very slow to begin with.  Our new friend, GoldenTV like a couple of Maks photos this morning:


There were several postings of photos of Maks from his Miami trip.  I picked this one because I liked the black and white.  I also want to see how long it is before people ask who she is and want to know if he’s dating her!

Or maybe it’s her.  Yeah, he must be dating this girl, right?  I’m afraid I never could quite decipher exactly what her caption meant, so sorry about that.  But the gist of it is more charity work, which Maks loves, so this must be the girl he’s dating.

There was another candid, but that one was with a man, so who cares about that one, right?

Sorry, feeling a little snarky tonight ;)

So, Miss Meryl was quiet all morning, but finally graced us with one of her quotes.  I really love this one.  I would love to see her take a certain leap.  Just throw caution to the wind and jump!  Karina reposted this one, I love that they are still close :)

Next, Meryl liked her favorite quote, the one on her twitter banner, but this one was posted by a friend.  She also liked Val’s posting of Joslin Seeds’ husbands sign of support for him and Janel.  This is truly a strong and supportive group.

Our Golden TV reporter went on yet another M&M liking spree!  I think he might qualify as a bigger shipper than me by now!  

Maks FINALLY surfaced at about 8:30 pmEST  when he re-posted this photo asking for support for his fam.  Sometime in the last few minutes, Meryl favorited it :)

Lizzie had a few really strange tweets tonight, that I don’t even understand enough to discuss.  I got an anon who steered me toward this tweet from Yuki.  It seems everyone missed season 18.

But, It was her next tweet that really had me wondering.  She tweeted support for Val and Janel.  She has no professional relationship with Val or Janel.  She represents Derek and Cheryl.  Maybe she just really enjoyed their dance.  I really can’t explain this particular turn of events.

After Val and Janel danced tonight and earned the first 10s and the first perfect 40 of the season, we were all waiting to see when Meryl and Maks would tweet about it.  It took about an hour for Meryl to tweet her support.

She also went on a DWTS liking spree on IG

After Val and Janel’s dance aired on the east coast, this twitter interaction happened.  So Maks is alive!

If I have my information and timing correct, after this interaction, Meryl started following Zendaya, sometime in the last hour or so.  I think we can definitely say that Meryl and Maks are in the same time zone.  I’m starting to think they very well might be in the same place.  Time will tell (maybe!)

We got quite a fun visit from Sheri tonight!  I didn’t realize she even read any of our blogs, but she sent a message to Brook pointing out Meryl’s “favorite” of Maks’ tweet.  Thanks for coming by Sheri (if you’re reading this).  We are all big fans :)

I think that is all that will be happening tonight!  Or at least all I will be able to cover tonight, time to get to bed.  Here’s hoping our favorite couple have stolen a few moments for each other before Meryl leaves for Japan.  I am hoping for no sightings for a few days :)

Sleep tight everybody!

becky2405  love4liberty

blueskysrainydays  asked:

Can you do one where reader, Dean and Sam have been working together for a little while reader is staying with them at the bunker, she really cares about Dean but recently he has been ignoring her or nasty if he does talk to her she just let's it go until finally he says something really hurtful mean( maybe calls her pathetic or a burden) she breaks down finally. Sam confronts Dean knowing Dean cares about her you end how you like

Hi! I’m sorry this took so long but I just hope it’s worth the wait!

It does have a couple of instances of swearing so just be aware of that!


“Dean?” you asked, poking your head around his bedroom door.

“What is it now?” he answered, annoyance evident in his tone.

“Um, well, Sammy was just going to go out to pick up some things and he wanted me to ask you if you wanted anything.”

“Tell Sam I want pie,” he replied shortly.

Things had been like this for a few days now. Every time you were near Dean or tried to speak to him, he would brush you off or just outright ignore you. It hadn’t always been like this and you wanted to know what had changed.

You hovered in the doorway, wondering how to question Dean about his recent treatment of you.

He glanced up and noticed that you were still there. “You can leave now,” he said coldly.

“Right,” you replied, hurrying from the room.

“What did he say?” Sam asked.

“Pie,” you told him, stepping past him and moving towards your bedroom, blinking back tears.

“Hey, Y/N, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me,” you said, shutting your bedroom door behind you.

Later that evening, you heard Sam return so you went out to grab some of the food he’d bought. When you got to the kitchen, Sam and Dean were discussing the latest case.

“You guys wanna fill me in?” you asked.

“So there’s this couple in Minnesota and they reported seeing -”

“No,” Dean cut in.

“What?” Sam asked in confusion.

“We’re not telling her about it.”

“Why not?” you demanded.

Dean turned to face you, the first time he’d looked directly at you in at least a week. “Do you really want to know? Alright. You’re a burden. You always make some stupid mistake and screw things up for us and Sam and I are always the ones who have to clean up after you. I want to keep you out of this so you can’t mess things up again.”

You took a step back, his words punching into you. “Is that really what you think?” you whispered.

“Yeah. It is. And you know what? Maybe you should just leave. Just go and live a normal life where careless mistakes won’t kill a bunch of people.”

“Dean!” Sam exclaimed. “What the hell, man? What’s wrong with you?”

“A lot of things, apparently,” you choked out, running for the comfort of your bedroom. You slammed your door shut and threw yourself down on the bed, your body heaving with sobs. Dean was one of your closest friends and if you were honest, you had feelings for him. Hearing him say those things about you was like a knife to your heart.

From the kitchen, you could hear the sounds of yelling and after a few minutes, footsteps approached your door.

“Go away, Sam,” you said in a muffled voice, not in the mood for his pity at the moment.

“Guess again,” Dean’s voice answered.

“Fuck off,” you whispered, unable to stand him being so close after what he’d just said.

“Look, I know I’m not your favourite person in the world right now -”

“That’s an understatement,” you scoffed.

“Can you just hear me out? Please?” he pleaded.

You rolled over to face him. “Fine. But you better talk quickly because I’m so not in the mood to deal with any more of your shit right now.”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. It’s just…you can’t be a part of all this,” he stated.

“Dean, did anyone ever explain the concept of an apology to you? Because I don’t think you’ve quite mastered the art yet.”

“Just let me finish, alright? God, I have no idea how to explain this,” he began. “Alright. You can’t be a part of this because you might get hurt. You probably will. Almost definitely. This family is cursed, and I don’t want to bring you into that. I don’t want to have to lay flowers at your grave or hold your lifeless body in my arms. I figured if I could make you leave now, you’d be safe. And I know you’d never leave by choice, so I had to force you out.” Dean’s voice had caught halfway through his explanation and by the end, he was struggling to talk through the wall of tears.

“Why didn’t you just say any of that?” you asked. “Why didn’t you just tell me, instead of making me feel like crap?”

“Because I’m not good with the touchy-feely crap, alright? I really like you and I don’t want to see another woman I love die because of me!”

“Another woman you what?” you gasped.

Dean froze, as if only just realising what he’d said. “I…I love you. And I want to protect you. I have to protect you.”

“Dean,” you murmured, “keeping me out of things isn’t going to protect me. It’s only going to hurt me more. And what’s the point in denying yourself a shot at happiness just because there’s risk? You say the family business is about saving people, but maybe it’s time to save yourself. And you know what? The more you push people away, the more you’re letting the monsters win.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“I do, Dean. You have to trust me on this. Sure, protect me if you want. But let me protect myself, too.”

By now, the two of you had gotten so close that you could fell his breath ghosting over your features.

Dean cleared his throat. “You know, you never really responded to what I told you before.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The, uh, part where I said how I…how I feel about you,” he said awkwardly, unable to meet your eyes.

Your face broke into a grin. “Is Dean Winchester, the guy who hates chick flick moments, really asking me to respond to his profession of undying love for me?” you teased.

“Well, I wouldn’t put it that way but…I guess.”

Your smile softened. “Well, you’re in luck, Dean. Because I feel the same way,” you murmured, stretching up to press a lingering kiss to his cheek.


Thanks for reading! That definitely wasn’t my best work, but it’s almost 11:30 at night and I don’t have time to do any more to it. Plus, I’m being assessed on a dance in PE tomorrow, so I really need to rest up.

Please don’t repost without giving credit.