turn on my heart


get to know me meme: [1/3] male biases

Lee Taeyong

HC: “To me, his role’s the most important, I hope he’ll continue to be the firm center of NCT.”
JH: “He’s actually really warm and kind-hearted.”
T: “He’s like a life mentor for me.”
M: “He’s the pillar of NCT.”


Did a full body of my oc Axania. ♡
None will ever know how much I love her.

Also soon I’ll be making Joji art don’t worry guys.
Hope you understand that I can’t constantly draw cancer crew/Joji.
It’s tiring and my brain/hands have to practice on something else too.

anonymous asked:

I want to express an opinion about how diff C and B are towards ppl in general but I don’t want to make it sound like I am hating on C, because I am not. I feel like, when it comes to ppl or at least the delinquents they r closer to B, cuzz they feel like he values them more as ppl not treat them as subjects. I feel like C in S3 felt entitled to make a decision for everyone else while she was away for them for 3 months and just expected them to get along with whatever she was deciding. (1/2)

(2/2) I don’t think she means too though. I mean in their POV B values their opinion more and sticks up for them more. He’s there for them more than C. p.s: please put in mind i am in no way hating on C, and i def dont think that thats who she is, i am saying they might see it that way, it always seem to me like they r closer to B

I don’t think it’s hating on characters to talk about their role in the show or their character development. People have this idea that if you don’t call them perfect cupcakes, that means you’re hating them, and that’s a pretty immature way to look, not just at characters, but at people, too. Character is made up a constellation of traits and behaviors, some great, some not so great. Some healthy, some destructive, some noble some that just makes you want to roll your eyes at them, and that’s okay.

I think you’re right. Clarke has always had a tendency to consider her own judgment over anyone else’s. She’s just been always sure that she was right. And she often is. She’s pretty insightful. The problem comes when she is so used to being right and telling people what to do and the decisions start getting more complicated and gray and more about perspective than just “we need to survive.”

She is not as connected to people as Bellamy is. I think it’s one of the ways he grounds her… or centers her. She looks at things in the big picture, and he looks at things in the small picture, including people’s feelings and opinions and perspectives. He thinks about who these decisions are affecting and she is very often focused more heavily on the goal. 

Rather than hating on Clarke, I think you’re making a good analysis of her character and how it affects the other characters. 

anonymous asked:

would you write fic about jughead being a hot dog impersonator and the lifelong struggles he's faced as a furry?

Who hurt you enough as a human that you would come into my house and send this to me? Who turned your heart to stone and forever closed your soul, that you would send this to me, on this the day of my birth?


I feel bad for old and homeless people on the streets. My heart turns heavy like the clouds everytime I see these old people alone, sitting on the side of the road and eating leftovers they probably found from the garbage, while some are lying on the cold hard ground without any clothes to cover their backs. I have the softest heart for old people, but I can’t seem to help them enough.

This afternoon, I took my usual route to the train station. The heavy rain had just started to calm down, but the strong wind kept fighting on. I saw this old lady on the side of the street, sitting on her pile of cartons, staring into nothingness. I knew she would be there because I see her all the time on the same spot. But today was different. She was just sitting and looking from afar while the light rain pours down. I cannot and never want to imagine how cold she felt at that moment. I thought of giving her some coins or bills for her dinner, maybe, but I ended up giving her my crackers and a 1-liter bottled water. She took it like it was her first meal of the day, and my heart can’t get shatter more into pieces. When she took it gently from my hands, her face lit up and she smiled slowly until it reached her eyes. And god, that was the most beautiful and most pained face that I ever saw in my entire life. I literally wanted to start crying because as a student who doesn’t have her own salary, that’s the only help I can give her. I don’t have the ability to take her home with me or to give her the best roofs in the world. So why? Why do they have to experience this kind of cruelty– these people who could be someone’s mother, father, grandma or grandpa? These people who once cared for the safety of their children, these people who built shelters for their families. How did they end up alone in this scary world?

when i made this blog a year ago i never expected it would get so many followers or that my art would be liked by so many people, considering how i’m basically a ghost who just throws stuff here from time to time. im really, really happy things turned out this way and your support really warms my heart!!! big thanks to all of u, love u and hope you have a great day!


“What’s that thing Samuel Beckett said?”

“I can’t go on. I’ll go on.”

“Let’s go on. Together.


I was lost in the darkness. I couldn’t find my way. As I stumbled through the dark, I started forgetting things - my friends, who I was. The darkness almost swallowed me. But then I heard a voice - your voice. You brought me back.

I didn’t want to just forget about you, Sora. I couldn’t.

Red days are when the wolves howl all night and in the morning the birds return with torn out feathers. The days are filled with ambulance sirens. My hair is on fire. Everything moves in slow motion. The flames, the heat, my body soaked in kerosene. The screams in the distance. The monster in the corner, gawking. The stripped birds. And then: the wolves. 

Blue days are heavy and I spend them speaking in spiderwebs. My reflection is clouded and the air is always too humid. The world does anything it can to make my bones weigh me down. My hands, a noose. My head, a haunted house. My heart, turned into a stress ball for when you needed it most.

Green days are spent wondering if it was painful when the sky had stars sewn into it. Wondering if the pain was worth it. Cactus spines stuck underneath skin when you try to drink the water. I am walking the precipice, one foot in the real world and one stuck in dreams. I am an inventor these days, writing fables for a childhood I can’t remember.

Purple days are murky and the owls have dangerous omens. I am on the tightrope. I am living out my childhood dream of being a ballerina. I am the circus act. I am the caged bird. I am spinning on my axis. The bystanders hold a collective breath. They are, after all, just paying for a pretty show. They don’t care about what comes after the fall.

Yellow days are a safe haze, coating my hands in syrup. My blood stays on the inside of my body. My skin actually does its job. Everything is safe and sultry. There is lemonade without sugar. There is your messy mouth again. Everything moves in reverse. There is my candy necklace. There are the sunflowers. There is the sunset we named after us.

Pink days are sunrises and fairy floss. I write about flowers and paint my face in watercolors. There are sugar angels on the counters. The spice containers are overfilling. I am happy and whole. I am kinetic energy and the explosion that comes with. I am rosy cheeked, and roses growing from my wrists. There is no pain. There is only the beauty I’ve torn myself apart to create. I am on the edge of a cliff. I have my wings. When I jump, I am a bird set free.

shoutout to my 3rd grade teacher who themed our classroom into Harry Potter, who made our four-table groups into the four hogwarts houses, who made most of our classroom activities based on Harry Potter, who gave us a taste of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, who made us butter beer (alcohol free) before we left for Christmas vacation, who at the end of the year made us watch all of the Harry Potter films, and raffled HP merch while all the other teachers were giving the other kids end of the year assignments

shout out to mrs. rhodes who made our year magical