usually i have to hide it

anonymous asked:

r u planning on writing anything for the nsfw yoi week? ❤

i… actually had no idea this was a thing? /hides

i’ve been a terrible fandom participant lately. also i’m working behind the scenes on some p. big projects w/ @uneballe-unmort so i’ve been prioritsing those for some time as far as my stuff for yoi is concerned (did someone say… masks?)

i also find smut hella hard to write so i have to be really, er… dare i say in the mood? and usually writing nsfw for the sake of it does not work well with me.

sorry for disappointing you ;__; i’m sure there’ve/there will be some fantastic works produced from others! <3

hamil-tonn-of-trash  asked:

Yo for the follower thing here's an interesting fact: I have only read the first 5 Harry Potter books. (I'm usually super shy but here I am!!!)

mine isn’t even interesting but

i haven’t read any of the books

*immediately hides behind a tree*
here come the pitchforks and torches

anonymous asked:

I'm going through a real rough patch and if you want to write something cheerful you have no idea how grateful I'd be.

Flash sidled up to Superman on one of the Watchtower’s mezzanines, leaning against a rail. They looked at each other sidelong, then away.

“Wanna hear my new time?” Flash asked sideways, swaying as he alternated which foot held his weight, hands on his hips.

“There’s no way you beat my time,” Superman muttered, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were in the other direction, and both men went silent as the Lanterns walked too close. Superman and Flash gave them a nod of acknowledgment, then waited for them to be at a safe distance.

“Nine seconds.”

“What!” Superman dropped his arms, whipped his head around to where Flash was grinning and bouncing on his heels. “No way.”

Flat,” Flash said.

“There’s no way.”

“Check my heartbeat if you don’t believe me,” Flash said, tapping his insignia with his thumb. Then he frowned. “Actually, don’t, I’m pretty excited about this so my pulse is probably crazy.”

His heart always sounded like an angry hummingbird trapped between his lungs, but Barry was also a notoriously terrible liar, so it wasn’t as relevant as it could have been.

Dangit,” Superman said, crossing his arms again. He leaned back to scope out the area around them. No one seemed to be paying them much mind. “What time?”

“Eleven on a Saturday,” Flash said, looking even more smug. “You know I don’t mess around.”

“Tch!” Superman made an irritated sound, licking his canines. Then he snapped his fingers. “You forgot about–”

“Nnnope,” Flash interrupted. “I’m including the new ones in that, that’s the whole reason we had to reset our times, otherwise I’d still be at seven-point-four.”

Tch.” Superman drummed his fingers against his bicep. “Nine seconds,” he repeated, torn between irritation and awe.

“You know what that means,” Flash said, waggling his eyebrows.

Superman sighed. “Alright, where are we going?”

“I want soup.”

“Uh-huh.” Superman waited. Flash was waiting for him to ask. Superman was not going to give him the satisfaction.

“… in Saigon.”

“You’ve been watching Bourdain again,” Superman accused.

“It looked like really good soup!” Flash said, defensive.

“Fine,” Superman said, “but I am going to beat your time, and when I do–”

“Beat what, now?” Wonder Woman asked, having managed to approach them while they were distracted by negotiations.

“Nothing!” Flash and Superman said at once.

“We were just talking,” Superman said.

“About stuff,” Flash added unnecessarily. “Private, personal, man stuff.”

Wonder Woman’s eyebrows shot up. She was close enough for her lariat to hum on her hip. She looked Flash over. Flash started to turn red.

“Okay bye!” Flash said, and he was gone in a streak of red.

“Superman?” Wonder Woman asked.

“I should, uh. Hal…”

He wasn’t actually making any definitive statements, just stringing words together, and yet somehow it still managed to ring false. She watched him go, putting her hands on her hips.

She could practically sense it when Batman came up beside her, even quiet as he was.

“Do you want to know what they were talking about.”

“Do you know?” she wondered. He said nothing, so she turned to look at his face. It was as expressionless as ever, but she got the impression that he did not consider the question worthy of dignifying with a response.

He was Batman. He would never be so rude as to say ‘of course’ – but of course he knew.

“I wouldn’t want to invade his privacy,” Wonder Woman said cautiously.

“He’d tell you if you really asked,” Batman said. “They just like feeling like they have a special thing.”

“Oh.”

“Flash, especially.”

“I see.” She tapped on her lower lip as she watched Superman talk to one of the Green Lanterns. “So what’s the special thing?”

“Pick me up in the plane on Saturday and I can show you.”

She froze. Slowly, she turned to look at him. As always, being able to see him helped not at all. “Like a date?” she asked.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “More like a stakeout.”

“That could be like a date.” She was mostly saying it to tease him. Sometimes if she did it right, he turned pink and had to find a shadow to hide in.

“It’s usually not.”

“Why not?”

“I’m usually with the kids.”

“Oh!” Her eyes widened. “I didn’t mean–”

“It’s fine.”

She put her hand out to rest on his shoulder. “I would never imply–”

“I know.”

She took her hand back. “I’ll behave,” she assured him.

“You don’t have to,” he said, and she grinned.

“I’ll pick you up at ten,” she said, and she gave him an exaggerated wink as she walked away.

“It’s a date,” he murmured.


Why,” Wonder Woman asked, “are we in Florida?”

Batman was sitting beside her, and the plane was in a low hover. “Because as far as anyone can tell, this is the single biggest and busiest Walmart in the world.”

“I don’t think that explains as much as you think it does,” she said.

Batman held up a phone. A clock took up most of the screen. 10:59. “Watch,” he said, and he pointed out to the parking lot, vast and terrifying and teeming with people. She watched, and she had no idea how she was supposed to see anything in the crowd.

Finally, she spotted it. The motion too quick to be anything mortal. Would anyone on the ground notice anything more than a strong breeze?

“Oh! It’s the–” She snapped her fingers, couldn’t remember the word.

“Carts,” Batman supplied.

“Yes!”

In almost no time at all, every cart in the parking lot had been returned to one of the designated corrals. Batman pointed to something that he must have been using technology in his mask to see, because otherwise his eyes should not have been good enough. Wonder Woman was much better equipped to see Superman, standing beneath a tree and checking a stopwatch and scowling. He did some kind of motion with his arms and one leg that suggested he’d have thrown his hat to the ground, if he’d been wearing one.

“They introduced new carts,” Batman explained. “They don’t fit with the other ones, so it slows them down. Ruined their whole system.”

“They had a system?” she asked, giggling.

“No, here,” he said, tapping her arm to point again. “This is the best part. He’s frustrated.”

That’s the best part?”

“Watch what he does.”

She watched. Superman was gone again, more impossible-to-follow motion through the crowd. Things were moving. Large things.

“He’s fixing the cars!” she said, clapping her hands together.

“He’s fixing bad parking jobs,” Batman confirmed. “Because he’s mad.” There was a brief crooked curve to his mouth.

“He moved that one to a different space!”

“Illegally parked in a handicapped spot.”

“How fun.” Wonder Woman watched the people wandering through the lot, wondered how many of them had noticed what was happening and how many had disregarded it as nothing worth noticing. “Flash is the winner of this contest, then?”

“Consistently.”

“Is there a prize?”

“Clark buys him lunch. Usually somewhere he saw on a food show, since he can’t normally do that.”

“Why not?”

“Hm?”

“Barry can run anywhere, can’t he?” she asked. “I see no reason he couldn’t run to these places on his own.”

“He doesn’t like being alone in foreign countries,” Batman explained. “It makes him anxious.”

“Oh.” She returned her gaze to the parking lot. “How nice, then, that it all works out.” She frowned. “Is this weird?” she asked. “Spying on our friends like this.”

“I don’t think I’m the right person to ask.”

“Do you do this often?” she wondered. “Watch people have fun without you?”

“Define 'often’.”

Wonder Woman held up a finger in warning. “Zatanna taught me a trick.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“She says that if you ask me to define the parameters, it means the answer is bad.”

Before he could respond, there was a thump.

Superman was standing on the nose of the invisible jet.

He tapped a knuckle on the glass, until Diana opened the hatch. “Hello!” she said cheerfully.

“What are you two doing here?” Clark asked.

“We’re on a date!” Diana said.

“We’re not on a date,” Batman said.

“If you’re not on a date, can you give me a ride?”

“You’re out of our way,” Batman said.

“Nah, just drop me off in Gotham,” Clark said, slipping inside the plane, awkwardly floating between the two front seats into the back.

“You don’t even need a ride,” Bruce said, having to fit himself as far as possible into the edge of his seat so that Clark would have room to get by. “You can fly.”

“Yeah, and you can walk, but I don’t see you giving up the Batmobile.” Clark made himself comfortable in the back seat as Diana closed up the plane. “I’m craving Dimitri’s.”

“You’re too sober for Dimitri’s,” Bruce said.

“I’m always sober. You’re lucky I can tell this wasn’t a real date, or I would be really creeped out by the whole spying on me thing.”

“Don’t tell Barry we know about your special thing,” Diana said, pulling the plane out of its hover to ascend. “I don’t want to ruin it for him.”

“I won’t,” Clark assured her. “Hey, you know where we should go while we’re here?”

“No,” said Bruce.

“Where?” asked Diana.

“No,” said Bruce.

“Disney World!”

“No.”

Diana gasped.

“No.”

Clark put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “You can’t have come all the way to Florida just to see me,” he coaxed.

“I’m banned from Walmart, strongly discouraged from visiting Disney parks, and my parents are dead. I have no other reason to visit Florida.”

lydialovebad  asked:

Do you know what I would really like? An AU where everything is the same but Marinette is a boy (Marin?) and there is a really fluffy marichat scene ♥^♥ I would die for see something like that!!! What do you think?

*grabs tablet and imediately draws about it proving how much trash i am*

so like i thought some ideas for this, if that’s alright, and well:

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

andreil pda around the foxes pleaseee my soul needs it

my marvelous anon, i am here to grant thine request, with a small side of accidental lowkey renison. enjoy <3. also on AO3.


He did it. He actually did it. After months of constant warnings and threats, Wymack finally followed through.

Neil can do nothing but stare at the flyer in his hand, mildly in fear and majorly in shock. A mere thirty seconds prior, Wymack had stormed out of his office brandishing this piece of paper like both a white flag and a declaration of war. He had paused just inside the lounge, making sure to gather everyone’s attention, before striding over to Neil and shoving the flyer in his face.

“This is for last weekend,” Wymack had said. “I already—don’t give me that look, you know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about. I already signed you up. It starts at 8:00 AM on Saturday, and unless you want your ass glued to the bench for the rest of the season, I suggest you be there.” He had then turned back around and disappeared into the hallway, leaving a room full of confused and curious Foxes in his wake.

A full minute passes before chaos breaks out and everyone starts moving at once. Various forms of “What the hell?” can be heard from all corners of the room. Neil blinks as the flyer is yanked out of his hand. He looks up to see Andrew, his eyes scanning the paper. Andrew looks up at him, and Neil’s heart nearly explodes because this look on his face, it looks like the honest-to-god beginnings of a smile. And sure, it’s at Neil’s expense, but he would embarrass the fuck out of himself at every turn if this was his reward. Andrew moves to hand the paper back to Neil.

“Okay, seriously,” Kevin huffs out with impatience as he pushes through his teammates. He snags the flyer away from Andrew who couldn’t be bothered to stop him. Kevin reads aloud, “The Annual Hilton Head Island Marathon…a MARATHON? Really, Neil?! Is this a joke?”

“I don’t know, Kevin,” says Andrew, his voice taking on the persona of a kindergarten teacher. “Did it look like a joke to you?”

Kevin’s only response is to scowl and shove the flyer into Neil’s chest. “This better not affect your performance at our game on Friday. You don’t get to take it easy just because you have to run 26.2 miles the next day.”

By the time Kevin has stormed out of the building, the rest of the Foxes have commenced their team wide freak out.

“Seriously?! He actually came through on that threat?” Dan is caught halfway between being genuinely worried and dying of laughter.

“Neil…bro…what the fuck…” Matt says from somewhere on his left, placing a consoling hand lightly on his shoulder.

“Oh my god, Neil. We have to be there. I have to witness this historic moment. You finally get to put your insane running habits into practice,” Allison is rambling from across the room.

“Wait, what was Wymack talking about ‘last weekend’? What did you do?” Asks Nicky, unaccustomed to being out of the loop.

Keep reading

Cliche For A Reason

No matter how many times they’re done, there are a few tropes I’ll read 100 times with the same ship, by 100 different authors.

Here are just a few of those tropes:

1. Fake Dating AU.

Whether it’s a short exchange with a stranger because there’s a creep who won’t stop hitting on them, or a fully planned out, year-long con to fool their family, I can never get enough of these.

2. Trapped in A Small Space Together

Freezing to death in an engine room. Hiding together in a closet to avoid being killed. Locked in a room, running out of air.

No matter the context, this one always makes my day, especially if one of the people trapped isn’t usually big on physical contact.

3. Taking Care of Children Together

Innocent little kids have a way of bringing out the soft side of even the fiercest characters.

4. Unnaturally Truthful

Truth serums, an excess of pain meds, and outside threats are just a few of the ways my beloved ships can be forced to admit things they never would under normal circumstances.

5. Amnesia/Forgetting The Other

Sometimes they hit their head. Sometimes they were brainwashed. Sometimes they died and came back to life.

Whatever the reason, one doesn’t know the other, and the other has to faithfully stick by them, and try to help them remember. (Or start from scratch, befriending them and falling in love all over again.)

6. Grumpy, Distant Characters Turning Into Human Puppies Around That Special Someone

This requires no explanation, I believe.

7. Everyone Knows One Loves The Other

Except, of course, the other.

8. First Kiss Forgotten

Maybe someone was under mind control when it happened, or maybe they just had a bit too much to drink, but Person A remembers Person B kissing them, and Person B has no idea it happened. (Or DO THEY?)

we can joke and laugh about this cause it’s better than sulk and be sad but actually, being serious for a moment, I am sorry the world harry and louis work/live in sucks so much that the people around them, who are supposed to represent them at their best, think its VITAL to start this machine every single time. i am sorry that they have to do this, both of them, i am sorry even if it’s just an article on the sun making shit up (unfortunately something tells ne this is not just an article, but still lets pretend this is not sony+harry’s team promoting through het narrative as if they never did it since 2012)

So to Harry and Louis I want to say that yeah, we joke about it even if there’s actually nothing to laugh about, but the most important thing they have to remember is that they have our support, our understanding, our love. What you represent, what you are, what you stand for, what you taught us with your personality, words, music, LOVE, is strength and bravery and all great things that should only be examples to follow not stuff to hide in shame. I hope all this can be over soon for both of you. Your love is the most amazing story this world needs to hear and appreciate like your real fans do. And as usual, it’s an honour to be a fan of yours.

💙💚

Byun Baekhyun//Dyeing To Meet You

Originally posted by blondejongin

Summary: Everybody knows that soulmates have the same hair colour - and your soulmate, wherever he is, is to be blamed for the ridiculous hair colour you woke up with this morning. - A/N: for the sake of this AU, just pretend your hair doesn’t get damaged when you dye it.
Scenario: Soulmate AU, fluff
Word Count: 3,021

Keep reading

The ironic thing about the whole “veganism is for rich people” thing is that as an activist, I’ve always found that the hardest people to advocate veganism to are the rich. People who are working class tend to speak the language of exploitation and oppression, they understand what it means for someone to feel entitled to someone else’s body or labour; it is usually the rich who do not identify with these struggles. They can hide behind free range, organic and grass fed labels and a deeply held belief in entitlement and hierarchy. 

I have never met a rich vegan, but I know plenty of vegan single mothers, vegan students, vegans on disability benefits or food stamps, vegans with no fixed residence, vegans living with their parents or in areas with limited food options. Of course they are not always perfect, they may not be able to replace all of their animal fabrics or always use non-animal tested products, but they do their best and that is what veganism is all about. These people should be praised for their efforts and supported in continuing them. Yet instead they are routinely erased; or worse, used as pawns in the arguments of people who insist that veganism is exclusively for the rich, the white and the privileged. 

The Runaway Ballerina

Pairing: Dean x sister!reader, Sam x sister!reader, some Cas 

Warnings: Fluff

Summary: Reader has been hexed by witch that turned her into a toddler, and a jealous Dean becomes very annoyed. 

A/N: I hit 100 followers, so in honor of that I’ll be posting some imagines so if you guys have any request send them down and I’ll try my best.

Originally posted by helvonasche


Sam and Dean sit in baby staring at their once 25 year old sister who was now 4 years old in a ballerina outfit because that’s what she picked out at the store when they needed to buy her clothes. The previous hunt they were on Y/N got hit by some weird powder by a witch and Dean woke up the following morning to a tiny hand on his face.

“Why do you guys keeping wooking at me weird?” She ask looking between them. “You’re just so tiny.” Sam smiles. “She’s so cute!” Sam adds looking at Dean. “Yeah, I remember.” He mumbles as they get out the car to go food shopping for the bunker.

“Come on Y/N.” Sam chimes as he opens the back door for her. He holds her hand as they cross the street to the store. She lets go and runs to the shopping carts to grab one. They stand there watching her struggle to get one cart out because they were stuck together. (Don’t you just hate that) “I got it.” Sam chuckles getting it. As they walk in store Y/N skips ahead next to Dean to hold his hand but he keeps moving his hand so she can’t grab it.

“I don’t wanna hold your hand, thanks. I don’t wanna hold your hand.” He argues. She frowns and grabs a hold of his hand and grips it tight. “Ow, ow, let go of my hand.” He growls. “That hurts.” He glares down at her. She whimpers and peeks over to Sam who looks down at her. “What’s wrong bug?”

“Dean won’t hold my hand.” Y/N pouts. Sam gives Dean his signature bitch face and Dean grunts and grabs her hand. “She always did this before.” He mumbles but Sam just chuckles shaking his head. “Why did you choose a costume?” Dean ask looking at her ballerina outfit. “It’s not a costume it’s my protective gear.”

“How’s a ballerina costume suppose to protect you?”

“Are you crazy who wants to hurt a ballewina?” She protest. “Other ballerinas.” Dean shrugs. Once Dean had enough he throws Y/N in the seat of the cart and she rambles to Sam who too eventually has enough of her talk of Princes and fairies and he gives her his iPod. She bops her head and swings her hanging legs accidentally kicking Sam once in awhile listening to music as they get to the register. “Can I has some lime jerky?” She ask pointing down below to the candy and jerky. Sam is about to protest remembering her eating habit but Dean holds his hand up to stop him. “Your remember how she was when she didn’t get things. She whined and whined.” Sam grabs the jerky and puts it down with the of stuff and Y/N smiles. The ride to the bunker is an half hour away and Y/N becomes very impatient.

“Are we there yet?” She grunts tugging on her seatbelt. “We get there when we get there Y/N.” Dean answers annoyed. “Why do you have to be such a meany?” She yells. Sam stops Dean before he can even talk back. “Hey princess let’s play a game.” Sam says turning around in his seat. “Okay!”

“Let’s play the license plate game.”

“Yay okay!” Y/N props herself on the seat and looks out the window. There isn’t much cars on the road and she eventually falls asleep from boredom. When they arrive Sam carries Y/N down the stairs seeing Cas sitting in the war room. “Who’s the child?” He questions noticing a sleeping Y/N in Sam’s arms.

“Cas it’s Y/N.” He chuckles. “Y/N isn’t two feet tall.”

“She got hit by some mumbo jumbo powder and now she’s four years old so we need to find a way to reverse it.” Dean explains as they walk to the kitchen. “Cas would you mind taking her to her room?” Sam ask. Cas hesitates at first and nods. Sam passes her gently so she doesn’t wake up. She stirs in Cas’s arms for a moment and becomes still again. He takes her to her room settling her down on the bed. He admires her small body seeing fully that it clearly was Y/N. He remembers Y/N showing him some pictures of her and boys when they were younger.

An hour goes passed and the boys sit in the library reading some books. “Do children usually nap for this long?” Cas questions. “You have a point totally forgot. She’s too quiet now that I realize.” Sam intervenes. “Oh no.” Dean mumbles getting up. “What? What is it?” Cas questions following them to the kitchen.

“Whenever Y/N was quiet it meant that she’s was either hiding something or she’s going through the pantry for cand—”

Sure enough when they reach the kitchen they see a stash of candy wrappers opened along with other snacks, but that wasn’t the problem. This was Dean’s secret stash. “Son of bitch.” He stomps his boot. “If she throws up, I’m blaming you!”  Dean scolds at Sam with a pointed finger. They go into the hallways to look for her. “Y/N!” Dean screams. He goes to her room not seeing her there and is about to leave till he hears shuffling from the closet. He slowly walks up to the closet grabbing the door knobs and swings them open spotting the little ballerina with a chocolate stained mouth.

“THERE YOU ARE!” She screams crawling through Deans legs and makes a run for it in the hallway.

“Sammy get her!” He screams. Sam sees a small body dart across the hallway. He runs after her but loses her once he turns the corner. Five minutes go by and Dean doesn’t find her. “I’m tried of playing games Y/N come out now or it’s time out for you!” After three minutes of searching he meets in the war room with Sam. “She’s in so much trouble!” Dean grunts. “Dean, why are you so mad at her?”


“She ate my stuff!”

“No, not that. I mean ever since she turned you’ve been a meany like she said what’s up with that?” Dean doesn’t answer and looks away. Sam stands there waiting for the answer. Dean mumbles something inaudible he can’t hear. “What?”

“I said she likes you better then me.” He confesses. “Dean, what are you talking about?” He sighs before he answers.

“Every since Y/N was little she always liked you best. She was stuck to you like glue.” Sam stands there in shock. “Dean, she loves you a lot you know?” He raises an eyebrow hearing this. “Anytime you and dad were gone Y/N never shut about you. Asking me all these questions about cars and bugging me when you were gonna be back and how excited she was to learn  how to gank monsters from her big brother. Besides you too spend a bunch of time together now. Why is this affecting you?”

“Is that true?”

“Yes, I was kinda jealous because I thought she liked you more. And to be honest I’m a little jealous. You guys have a closer bond than I have with her now.” Sam admits. Suddenly Cas emerges into the war room carrying a crying Y/N. “What happened?” Sam ask. “Well when I was chasing her down she fell and hurt her knee.” He lifts her leg up showing the ripped pink unitard with a cut that is now bleeding just a little and the torn tutu. He goes to hand her to Sam’s out stretched arms but she whimpers rejecting him.


“I want Dean.” She whimpers crying. Dean lifts his head up hearing this and gets a good look at his baby sister. Her arms reached out for him leaning away from Cas. Her eyes puffy and red from crying. Dean realizes that he’s been so stupid that he didn’t need to be jealous, because him and Y/N get along perfect now when she’s not a toddler. She whimpers putting her arms down thinking her big brother yet again is rejecting her today until he reaches out for her and she quickly wraps her arms around his neck. “You okay?” He ask softly wiping her tear stained face. “No.” Y/N croaks shaking her head and he takes her to his room. He sets her down on his bed and helps her in one of his t-shirts after cleaning her face.


“I’m sorry I ate your candy.” She apologies in her small voice. “No, I’m sorry for being a meany today, I was just jealous.”

“Why?” She ask with a tilt of her head.

“It’s a long story. But let’s get a bandaid on this shall we?” He gets the first aid kit and cleans her scratch up. “Tank you.” She says once he’s finished. “Dean.” She calls out to him when he puts the stuff away. “Yeah?”

“Can we watch some cowboy movies?” He smiles at this and nods his head. “Sure thing sweetheart.” He sets the movie in his room while Cas helps her pop the popcorn. Half way through the movie Y/N starts falling asleep. He looks down under his arm seeing Y/N falling asleep with a piece of popcorn hanging of her bottom lip. “Getting sleepy there?” He lays down with her pulling the blanket up. “Frectles.” She mumbles. “What?” She puts one tiny finger in his face and says it again. “Frectles.” He frowns then gasp realizing what she meant. “You mean freckles.” He chuckles. “Yeah you has those.”

A/N: Would you guys like a Part 2?
6

Anon request: Fighting with Jungkook + drabble
It’s not the same as Yoongi’s but I thought this fit better. 
I am so sorry it has taken so long, it has been sitting in my drafts for weeeeks (ask you can tell by the date of the text) I am so sorry
I hope you like it! 


Jungkook x Reader
Warnings: Implied Smut
Words: 1250


You knocked once on the bathroom door and waited for a response. After receiving a text from Yoongi, you rushed out of the door and into the nearest taxi. Reading over the texts again and again, you felt your stomach twist as the guilt set in. Fuck, what had you done. The fact Jungkook thought he was a bad boyfriend made your heart squeeze into your throat. He was far from it, in fact he was the best boyfriend you have ever had, going above and beyond anyone ever had. Making you smile when you needed it, telling you that he loved you nearly every day even when he was on tour. He would always make you feel so loved and important and you couldn’t even let him off this one time. You were being selfish and you needed to fix it. You phone beeped with another text, this time from Taehyung.  

Keep reading

So since I’ve seen quite a few PTSD fics circulate around this community, I thought I would share some of my tips for writing it realistically, as someone who has it.

-Not every time the thing comes up do you get triggered into flashbacks. It can be random and it can even sneak up on you.

-Not all flashbacks are visual, shower-floor, crying flashbacks. Those exist. But more often, a flashback is more like an emotional flashback–you feel like you did when the thing was happening. And your brain tells you it’s about to happen again even when that doesn’t make much sense, and that’s what sets off the panic reaction.

-We all have a version of the story we can tell without panicking. Usually very bare-bones, sometimes morbidly funny, sprinkled with inappropriate jokes about dying and dismemberment. 

-Sometimes watching someone else have a panic attack from PTSD can set us off into our own. 

-There are oftentimes genres of shows we can’t watch because they remind us of our trauma.

-Many times, the attack manifests itself more aggressively than a regular panic attack from a person with GAD or depression. This is because we’re reacting to a specific stressor. They can be very combative, or they can be VERY defensive (mine are always defensive. I get quiet, I feel nauseated, I hide without thinking about it.) 

This has been PTSD awareness with Taylor Tut. Have a great day, y’all!

Season 2 Klance and Shallura Analysis

Alrighty so this is another one of those voltron prediction/theory/rant its basically an analysis of some parts of season 2 not all bc that would take me forever but just a few key parts (aka the key to my heart Klance okay bye). So grab a drink because this is an essay folks that I spent way too much time on than I should have. Let’s begin shall(ura) we? (I hate myself)

So I’m gonna start with a very good and very platonic (in my opinion) relationship, which is K//allura. Okay okay, they have so much potential to be bffs its exciting.

First off, I took the whole Galra Keith and Allura tension as a message the creators wanted to convey to the viewers about judging someone merely by their race. Honestly I really love it when tv shows, especially kids shows, integrate bigger ideas like racism into their stories. Its subtle yet satisfying and I really really appreciated this particular scene with Keith and Allura.

Allura is describing her hatred for the Galra which is basically her hatred toward a part of Keith that he can’t even control. He never chose to be Galra, it’s just in his blood. And obviously that hurts him because its a part of who he is:((

Like ugh this is so sweet guys. So as you know from the title of this, I don’t ship K//allura at all, but this scene was very special to me in a much different way than how I feel from a romantic interaction. Like this is a genuine moment between two characters that are haunted by the same group, the Galra. Keith is part Galra, he has a part of the enemy inside of him which is probably causing inner turmoil maybe even self-hatred within him. And Allura as we know hates the Galra for killing her entire civilization. These two have a deep character development from this scene alone. We see that Allura has matured from being bitter toward Keith for being Galra to understanding that a person should not be judged by their blood but who they truly are. Also we see that Keith has accepted the fact that yes he may have a part of the enemy within him, but that does not mean he has to be anything like them. He is also pretty stand-off ish and doesn’t like opening up necessarily. He’d much rather keep to himself (other than Shiro), but he is finally opening up to someone else as well. He forgives Allura immediately despite how offensive her bias opinion was towards him. I just love Keith. 

So these two are super close now or should be? Which is pretty awesome considering… Keith is super close to Shiro too. SO now he’s close to both Shiro and Allura who are both, might I remind you all, much older than would be appropriate for him to have a romantic relationship with. Anywho, this reeks of space parents and an angsty teen.

Which then leads to Shallura and why I believe it is pointing toward canon woot woot love these goobers. Alright so I’m solely focusing on a few scenes in particular where my heart was pounding and my eyes watering and I was clutching my heart while screaming at my computer screen. The feels man the feels. 

I just about swooned at this. Like these underrated moments are what really get me. Like I love the whole Shiro taking Allura’s hand and telling his wife to get some rest, that got me feeling some sort of way. But this scene guys. In the heat of battle, Shiro is concerned for Allura. He’s basically saying “I wish I could be there to take care of her but Coran you have to do it for me.” I cannot guys I cannot.

She could’ve called for anyone else. Was it Keith? NOPE IT WAS SHIRO, PEOPLE!!

Never forget honestly. This is the face of a broken man. I have never seen Shiro more distressed and this pic doesn’t do it justice but when you watch this scene his eyes are glistening like he’s about to cry. The calm, collected leader Shiro is on the verge of tears? omg I can’t. 

Honestly this is my weakness. When a character gets hurt and another character goes ballistic and rages. Like Shiro is so determined to kick ass in this scene and avenge Allura. End me. 

For Shallura, they both have an understanding that they need each other. They are each other’s support especially considering they both are the leaders and are the older ones of the group. They help bear each other’s responsibility which is much different than Klance’s dynamic. For Klance it is much more playful and focused on chemistry. And also because they are younger it is much more naive and afraid. Both Keith and Lance obviously care for each other but they try not to show it especially when the other is present. They are self-conscious and afraid of what the other will think, that the other doesn’t feel the same way. Shiro and Allura, however, both know that they care for each other and they aren’t afraid to express it through calling each other’s name during battle and other small gestures like that.

Which I forgot to mention that everyone is freaking out over a simple hug between Allura and Keith but like have you noticed that both Klance and Shallura have not had a proper hug yet? Ummmm is this a slow burn fic or… Seriously tho, I’ve watched plenty of shows and animes (I’m shameless) to know that usually the canon couple does not have that special hugging and seal-the-deal scenes quite so early in the series because all the anticipation builds up until the perfect scene is created. I swear a tender Klance and Shallura moment is coming I swear. 

Which then leads to my mains, Klance. I just have to admit that one of the many reasons I love these two is because of the fact that Keith and Lance are like my fav characters of all time. And I can relate to both of them at the same time idk. Anyway, back to what’s important: evidence of canon.

So… Do I really need to show these? Like these scenes do not need further analysis it just reeks of dorks-in-love-who-don’t-know-they’re-in-love-with-each-other-and-who-don’t-know-that-the-other-is-in-love-with-them. Man I love Klance. 

So instead let’s over-analyze a few other scenes…

“Babe I thought you would have my back.”

“First you forget the bonding moment now this.”

Look this one is a stretch lol but just look at Keith’s face. When you watch this scene, Keith goes from his signature annoyed and irritated look to a betrayed and frustrated look. Maybe that’s just me, but aside from that, he doesn’t necessarily look pissed off, his face changes from his usual pissy look to something much different. Obviously what Lance says does calm him down enough not to yell back at him, but he also looks frustrated because no one understand him or his secret about his past with the Blade of Mamora and all that good junk at this point. I think it is especially bothering him that he can’t just upfront say what he is hiding, and instead he knows he is looking like a fool in front of them (and especially Lance). 

Body language is important. Keith turns around as not to face them, I think he is hurt because obviously this whole situation is important to him but not even Lance seems to understand him. And I seriously think Keith and Lance have like this weird mutual understanding usually. Like ya they fight I get that, but usually they kinda get what the other is trying to get at I feel, idk maybe thats just me. 

Let’s take a moment to appreciate how blue Lance’s eyes are in this… I love my son…

So like if you look closely at this scene you notice that when Lance is making eye contact with Keith, Keith has his typical “I hate you Lance but really I don’t but I’m gonna pretend like I do” face. But right when Lance looks away Keith actually looks sad and kinda hurt. Out of everyone, he hates that Lance is the one revealing his flaws, and even he knows its true. Lance stop insulting your husband. He’s actually sensitive about what you think of him:(((

Uhhh lowkey I think Keith is just as insecure as Lance is, but he just doesn’t show it… Oh the Klangst!

And another thing we get to see in Season 2 is that Lance is showing ALOT of concern of Keith’s wellbeing which is pretty big if you ask me because season 1 was basically Pining!Keith worried about his boyf. Now we get to see some worried Lance.

Honestly, like I mentioned before, the creators are going for a slow burn. And both Shallura and Klance definitely have their little hints and subtle moments that are very easily missed. But that’s the point. If it’s too obvious then the ending won’t be as powerful, the couples won’t be as special. Also, the development of both of these couples is going slow but very well thought out and I actually appreciate it a lot. I know for a fact K//allura won’t be canon because their interaction is too straight-up(lol) for it to be canon. It could be said as “predictable” but idk I just get a total brotp vibe from them nothing more, plus if they were hinting at canon for them, they wouldn’t have them hug so soon. Also their reactions and facial expressions toward the hugs and touches would be very different. It wasn’t tender like the Bonding Moment™ or the Shallura hand grab™. Facial expressions and reactions are key! Keith looked indifferent when Allura fell into his arms and their hug was sweet yes but it wasn’t hesitant and nervous like a couple who just discovered their feelings for one another would react. It was a hug between two people who recognize their bond. It was a strong bond yes, between two lovers? no I don’t think so. Allura, herself even confirmed how she now viewed the paladins as her family and it just felt to much like a familial bond I couldn’t see anything more to it. If Kallura was to be canon they would have more subtle moments than in-your-face big moments. Little details in the way Keith or Allura would look, or in the background they would be gazing at each other (*cough* like Keith does to Lance *cough*) It’s the little things that count, remember that.

The only ship I was concerned that would be canon was Sh//eith, because they have an obvious bond that is much different than everyone else. But ever since the “Shiro, you’re a bro to me” happened, it basically killed any chance of it happening. Which in my opinion is much better because Klance and Shallura have so much potential and their stories can expand and be written so well. As it is, the creators are doing a really good job at unraveling their stories slowly but just enough as to give the viewers hope which is the goal usually for tv shows. They try to make the shippers suffer sometimes *sigh*. 

Anywho, if you read up to this point thanks for listening to me rambling about space parents and space ranger partners lol! I loved season 2 because it revealed a lot about Keith not only through the obvious backstories and blade of mamora stuff but also through his interactions. And yes Keith is my fav lol. Anyways, I am 99.9% sure Klance and Shallura are gonna be canon but by no means am I saying you shouldn’t ship what you want. You do you, folks. Ship on and enjoy the show!

Huntress in the Snow

What if Rhys had met Feyre back when she was still a little girl, alone in the woods and hunting for her family? Inspired by this beautiful work of art, here’s the hypothetical meeting between an abused, tired Rhysand and a tiny Feyre.

 

Rhysand rarely leaves Amarantha’s court Under the Mountain.

He rarely leaves her bedroom, for that matter. Life is just a frenzy of lies, sex, dancing, drinking, hatred and torture these days and he has long given up on making his existence bearable. He doesn’t really care anymore.

He doesn’t care for the stares they give him, the names. He doesn’t care for those pitying glances. He doesn’t care when Amarantha is straddling him, using him, her fingers pulling his hair.

Spring Court is covered in masks right now, but Rhysand might as well be wearing one, too. He doesn’t recognize himself in the mirror anymore. He murmurs things in her ears, he lies, promises, he kills on her behalf, he smirks and laughs and betrays, and he isn’t sure he can ever get back from that.

He’s doing it for Velaris and his beloved ones. That is what he tells himself, over and over and over again, when he’s buried inside her or when he snaps someone’s neck. It’s the only reason he’s still holding on. Velaris. Mor. Amren. His brothers. His court.

Court of Dreams. It’s like a bitter joke, ashes in his mouth. He doesn’t know if he will ever see them again. Doesn’t know if he wants to- after what he’s done.  

He probably won’t ever see them again. This nightmare will never end.

Life is miserable. Rhys doesn’t care.

With the way things are developing right now, his old enemy Tamlin is going to join them in a few years- 42 years have passed and that fool, that idiotic fool hasn’t managed to break the curse. If he realizes that he could save them all, Rhysand doesn’t know. Perhaps Tamlin is just trying to protect those he loves as well. Perhaps he’s trying- perhaps he’s fighting.

Perhaps he’s not.

Rhysand doesn’t care.

He also doesn’t care that Amarantha sends him to the human realm today. To find a group of fae from Dawn Court that have escaped; find them, bring them to her, watch her torture and kill them and fuck her afterwards. It’s nothing to him. He’ll play his part. He’ll be urgent and passionate- I’ve been aching for you, my queen, my everything, woman of my dreams- only you, only ever you- he’ll make her scream his name and kiss her afterwards.

All the while, he’ll be somewhere else. He’ll be talking to Amren, quietly. He’ll be drinking with Cass and Azriel, playing cards. He’ll be dancing with Mor. He’ll be walking through the streets of Velaris.

That’s the only thing he has. And even those memories are further and further away from him with each passing day. Rhysand is afraid that he’ll wake up some morning and find that there’s no fight left inside him- that he’ll just give up.

He looks around.

He’s in a forest, close to the wall. It’s spring, but snow still covers the trees and the ground. He will encounter no humans here- none of them would be so foolish, so daring to get this close to the wall. He sits down next to a stream, closes his eyes and just doesn’t think. A few, scattered moments of peace- he takes what he gets.

Just a few moments. Then he’ll hunt those poor bastards down.

Feyre is twelve, and she’s been roaming this forest for a year now. She’s been following the village’s hunters; copy the way they set their snarls, carry their bows. She has a dream: she’ll hunt so much food her father will get better again. Nesta and Elain will get fatter, rounder, and they will both find very handsome men to marry. Then it’ll be Feyre and her father, and she’ll hunt for him while he reads at home, and in the evening, she’ll cook for him and paint a little.

So far, she hasn’t ever shot anything bigger than a rabbit, and that one time was on accident. The snarls are what works better.

Nesta turned fifteen yesterday. Feyre knows her sister has hoped their father would say something, but he has forgotten all of their birthdays. Nesta has looked like murder all day long. Elain tried to talk to her, but she locked herself in their room.

Elain and Nesta are very sad, Feyre knows that. They remember more of their mother and they talk about her sometimes, exchanging bits and pieces of who she used to be. In the beginning, right after they moved into the little hut at the village’s edge, they tried to be there for her- but they have too much to worry about, now. They never even play with each other. They don’t thank her when she brings food home.

Feyre makes her way through the trees. She must always stay away from the wall- dangerous creatures are there, fae. She’s so afraid of them she has nightmares sometimes.

But today, some inner voice tells her that the wall is not dangerous. That no fae will hurt her. And almost by themselves, their feet make her walk closer and closer to the buzzing, invisible thing that separates their human world from the fae.

When she comes onto a clearing, she sees a man. He is sitting on a fallen tree branch next to a river and his head his lowered, almost as if he were praying. He doesn’t carry weapons, but his clothes are fine and elegant- he must be a rich merchant, lost in the woods.

Perhaps she’ll get a reward if she leads him out of here. Curiosity gets the better of her. “Are you okay?”, she calls over to him, and that is the exact same moment he looks up and meets her eyes.

It knocks the breath out of her. He’s a fae. His ears are long and pointed, and there is something otherworldly in his features that marks him as different.

This is it. She is going to die. Nesta and Elain and her father will starve because she’s not there anymore. How could she be so careless, hunting so close to the wall?

The man takes in her unwashed hair, her threadbare clothes, her make-shift bow. “You should not be here”, he rasps. “You should run.”

Feyre tries to be a still as she can be. The man doesn’t get up, doesn’t come closer. As if he knows that she’ll start screaming if he does.

“Go”, he commands, angry. “Don’t ever come here again. Understand me? Don’t go into the forest at all. Stay at home.”

And she should do just that, run until she’s far away from him, but…

“I have to”, Feyre says. “I have to hunt.”

“No, you don’t. A small girl like you should stay with her family.”

“You don’t understand.” She steps closer, her bow still ready in her hand. “My family will starve if I don’t. I am doing all of this for them.”

The man breathes in, sharply, and she swears that she sees devastation in his eyes. “What?”

“My father can’t take care of us.” Why the words are spilling from her mouth like that, Feyre doesn’t know. “And my sisters are scared. I have to be strong, even when I’m afraid- for them.”

The man stares at her.

“Are you going to hurt me?”, Feyre asks. She tries to hide that she is scared of that fae. She tries to pretend that she could shoot him, if she wanted.

He shakes his head, slowly. “Of course not.”

“What are you doing here, then? Shouldn’t fae be on the other side of the wall?”

The man smiles a bitter smile. “Usually, we should. But I…was allowed a little freedom today.”

“Are you a hunter, too?”

He closes his eyes. “I suppose.”

“Then you’re a little bit like me.”

“Well.” He laughs. “Not really. But I am doing this for my family, too. All of this.”

Feyre doesn’t know why, but for some strange reason, it makes her very happy that the man has a family. That he’s not alone.

“That’s good”, she smiles. “You should go be with them, not sit in the forest by yourself.”

He nods. “You’re right, of course. As should you.”

Feyre steps as close to him as she dares. The fae is very pretty, she realizes. All the older village girls would probably be in love with him. But he looks sad, she thinks, and she doesn’t know why, but it makes her heart ache a little. She wants him smiling.

“Here.” The fae nods his head and suddenly, a basket filled with bread and meat appears in the snow. “Take that home to your family. It should give you enough food to eat for the next few weeks. I can’t- I wish I could do more. But my hands are quite literally tied.”

“Is this some sort of trick?”, Feyre asks. “Some bargain? Some fairy magic?”

The fae shakes his head, a flicker of amusement on his face. “No bargain, little girl. Although I’m impressed you’re already so wary for your age.”

Feyre picks up the basket. This is better than the time she shot the rabbit. This is all of her birthdays combined. “Thank you- what’s your name?”

“Rhys”, he says, looking at his hands. “That’s what my friends call me.”

“That family you told me about?”

“Yes”, Rhys says softly. “My family.”

Feyre smiles at him. It comes so easy, the smile- because something deep inside her core tells her that she doesn’t need to be afraid of him. And she trusts that. “Thank you, Rhys. Your family is lucky to have you. You just saved mine today.”

He still looks so very sad. “Then that’s something”, he says hoarsely. “Before you go- one thing.”

And suddenly there are talons in her head, and she can’t move anymore.

“It’ll be over in a few moments”, Rhys says. “But I can’t let you remember me. She’ll find out, somehow. She’ll break you just for fun.”

Some white blanket is thrown over her mind, and the next second, Feyre finds herself alone in the woods.

What just happened? Why is she here?

Oh, yes- she remembers- the rich merchant who she met on her way here showed mercy and handed her the basket-

What on earth is she doing so close to the wall?

Feyre turns around and runs. Today is such a good day. She feels happy, not just because of the gift…but because of something else.

And maybe she can get through all of this.

Maybe she’ll find a way out of this someday.  

Rhys has never done something like this, but he forces himself to forget her. He pushes her image into the very, very back of his mind, he uses his magic on himself and forces himself to forget about that girl in the snow, that tiny, little huntress.

Because for some reason, he knows that she is important. For what, he doesn’t know. But he’ll do what it takes to keep her hidden from Amarantha.  

It makes him cry out in pain to use those talons on himself, but-

Rhys finds himself standing somewhere in the forest.

Why is he still here? He should go- hunt those Dawn fae down.

There’s a weird feeling of goodness in the back of his mind. Of happiness. And he remembers- that those he loves are out there. That somehow, someday, he’ll see them again. That there is a reason for everything.

He feels hope, and he doesn’t know why.

I have to be strong, even when I’m afraid- for them, whispers a voice inside his head. He knows who said it-

A girl-

He can’t remember. But that feeling lingers.

That night, when Amarantha is on top of him, moving and moaning about how good this feels after a kill, all he can think is the clock is ticking, you bitch. You’ll go down soon. Someone will come and end you.

When she leaves him, he showers and washes her scent off him. Someone is out there, he thinks. Someone good. This world is not completely lost. And for some reason, he cares again. Cares about what happens. Cares about who wins. Suddenly, he wants to fight.

That night, he has the strangest dream. It’s a hand, unpacking a basket full of bread, apples and meat. A small hand; a child’s hands. But it makes him so inexplicably happy he thinks about that dream for days.

A few years later, when Rhysand has long forgotten about everything, he dreams of that same hand again.

Only this time that delicate, female hand is drawing flowers on a table.

And something inside Rhysand whispers, soon.

Soon.

Soon.

(Loki x reader) Can’t Sleep pt.2

Originally posted by hard-on-for-hiddleston

A/N: This is one of my most popular one shots and I couldn’t help but want to continue it! I hope you guys like it 

Words: 1,956

Warning: none

Part 1

—————————————–

Loki shifted slowly in his sleep, the sunlight shining onto his closed eyelids and disturbing him from his peaceful sleep. Loki fluttered his eyes open slowly, trying to draw in his surroundings. He felt the floor beneath him and realised he was resting on a soft carpet. He suddenly noticed that he wasn’t alone. Loki looked towards his chest and where his left hand was resting. He realised that someone was resting on his chest and immediately discovered that it was you. He suddenly stiffened and stressed out, trying to remember what happened. He shifted his hand underneath your head and carefully shifted your body off his, treating you like beautiful china. Once your were rested carefully on the ground, he stood up and delicately placed one arm under your knees and the other beneath your shoulders and warily picked you up. He placed your still sleeping body carefully on your bed and pulled his arms out from underneath you slowly so he wouldn’t wake you. Loki pushed a small strand of hair out of your face and smiled slightly, finding you beautiful and innocent as you were sleeping. Loki’s smile broke when he realised what he was doing, he couldn’t feel anything for you. It wasn’t right, and you didn’t deserve him.

Loki sighed as he walked towards the door and opened it, taking a quick look at you before closing the door lightly and walking out of the room. Loki walked down the hall and saw all the avengers sitting on the couch watching TV. Nobody really paid attention to him at first except for Thor, who was beaming at him. Loki looked at him, creasing his eyebrows with a confused expression.

“There you are, I started to think you’d never show up” Clint said, causing all the avengers to look straight at Loki, something he didn’t really appreciate. Loki nodded and looked down at his feet, still thinking about you. “I was asleep” he said quietly. He didn’t have a witty comeback for the first time since he got here, and he wasn’t really up for it. Loki looked back at Thor who was still smiling, and after a few seconds he stood up walking over to Loki.

“I’ll just be a second, I need to speak to my brother” he said, still smiling. Thor walked over to Loki and grabbed his wrist, leading him towards the hall.

“Wha…what are you doing!?” Loki sniped, irritated by Thor’s confusing behavior.

“I don’t know, anything you’d like to share with me, brother?” Thor said, raising his eyebrow and grinning. Loki shifted awkwardly but tried to cover it up by playing it cool. He looked up at Thor, a confused fake look on his face.

“What is your damage this morning?” he asked, Thor continued to smile at his brother unfazed by his response.

Keep reading

Evermore

Summary: Loosely inspired by the song “Evermore” from Beauty and the Beast. Bucky had it all planned out. He spent days planning the perfect proposal - the perfect proposal for the perfect girl, but things don’t always go according to plan. 

Word Count: 1,731

Warnings: Angst


Originally posted by trevanterhodes


Bucky fidgeted with the velvet jewelry box nervously, pausing every now and then to glance back at the door to his apartment. Any moment, Y/N would come walking through, her warm smile lighting up the apartment. Hers was the smile that somehow managed to steal into his melancholy heart, the smile that melted the layers of frost and gave way to spring, the one that nurtured the tiny, fragile seeds of love little by little until they blossomed.

Keep reading

“Elain?” Lucien drawled, raising an eyebrow. He lounged in a chair by the fire, reading with his feet propped on a low table.

Elain sipped her wine, pretending to be interested in the things atop the mantle. “Yes?” she said.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” she said innocently. But she swayed her hips to twirl her skirts. “What are you doing?" 

Lucien shut his book and braced his feet in the floor. He surveyed her, then tossed the book on the table. He smirked. She pretended to ignore him and sipped her wine, all the while walking away from him, idly running a finger along the top of the mantle.

"I think a better question,” he said standing, “would be what are you wearing?” He stepped over the small table and moved to stand on the opposite end of the fireplace as her. He crossed his arms.

Elain turned, feigning surprise. “You mean this?” She sipped her wine to hide her smile. She glanced below his belt then met his eyes. “Haven’t you seen a dress before my little fox friend?”

Lucien gave her a wry smile and took a heavy step forward. “I have,” he said. He took another step. “Yet they’re usually far more covering, and"—another step—"ladies tend to wear underthings with them.”

“Oh dear,” Elain said. “I see the problem.”

“Oh?” Lucien was an arms length away.

“Yes, see you said ‘ladies’ of which I am not.” She sipped her wine then set the glass on the mantle. Tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“Since when are you not anything but a lady?”

Elain stepped forward. “Since I put on this dress,” she whispered, brushing her breasts, her body, along his folded arms. “And stepped into this room,” she brushed her lips along his, “where I knew you’d be.”

Lucien let out a low growl, grabbed Elains upper arms—pulling her forward to press her breasts against his chest—and gave her a brutal, wanting kiss.