way too busy doing myself anyways

At The Beep (Lin-Manuel Miranda x reader)

Summary: A love story told through single sided voicemails.

Translations:

Mi sol: my sun

Te amare por siempre, mi sol: I love you so much, my sun.

Este es mi último adiós: This is my final goodbye.

Hasta la próxima: Until next time.

Espero verte pronto: I’ll see you soon I hope.

pollito: little chicken (used as term of endearment to call someone cute)

Espero que sueñes conmigo: I hope you dream of me.

Me haces tan feliz: You make me so happy.

chulo: cutie

Tengo que irme, Te veo dentro de poco. Adios! : Gotta go, see you in a bit. Bye!

Mi querido: my dear

Madre: mother

mi hiji: my daughter

familia: family

cariño: sweetie

Eres mi sol: You are my sun

Feliz Navidad: Happy (Merry) Christmas

Hola mi sol: Hello my sun

Hasta pronto te amo: See you soon I love you

Mi amor: my love

Te amo con cada fibra en mi cuerpo.: I love you with every fiber in my body

Buenos días, mi amor: Good morning my love

Despiertate!: Wake up!

Warnings: character death, miscarriage, alcohol, swearing

Word Count: 2,782

Notes: This is my first fic so I got a bit carried away… also, I’m not fluent in Spanish, I don’t know anything about it really. I just thought it would be a cool idea to have the reader and Lin converse in Spanish so I apologize if I have made any mistakes. Please let me know so I can change them! Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Please feel free to message me anytime : )

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Space

MEMBER/GROUP: Park Jimin // BTS

GENRE: fluff

SUMMARY: You didn’t listen to them when they told you it wouldn’t work out. Life after high school is hard, and friendships are tested; with not many surviving. You two were inseparable. But was it really possible to maintain a friendship between idol and stylist?

AUTHOR’S NOTE: my last Jimin scenario was angst and full of it, so I made this one fluff :D (the smiley is a lie, I am in pain, so much pain, R.I.P Ido my bby, I’m gonna bring you back to life istg)

also Anon, I’m so sorry this was late! 

Originally posted by bwipsul


“I CAN’T BELIEVE IT,” Yuri squealed, clapping her hands. “We’re graduates!” You grinned, feeling your own excitement match hers. You had two months off to enjoy your freedom, and then you were set to work as Kim Mei’s assistant, which made your heart burst with joy. Mei was an extremely well known stylist, she didn’t work for anyone specifically, rather she had people running after her. Her understanding of physical features and accuracy in accentuating them made her one of the most sought after stylists in the country. 

And she had accepted you as her assistant. 

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~fun aesthetic challenge~ for anyone who wants to participate!!

So in the graphics-making community we recycle a lot of other people’s images, which kinda just how the internet works. But I made a post this morning and it got me thinking that it might be cool to try to have a challenge where everyone participating makes an aesthetic post of whatever fandom their heart desires using only their own photos. Not as in “anything already on your phone/camera,” it just has to be something that you personally took, so you could take pictures specifically for your post. (You’d be surprised what kinda of cool stuff you can find lying around to shoot with your iphone camera tbh!!) Anyways I am way too busy (& noncommittal…) to make this a challenge with a date and specifics just for myself but if anyone wants to join, lmk and we can figure out how often we’d like to do it and when to post them! <3 Cheers ily guys

anonymous asked:

Yaaaay! I managed to be on tumblr right when the ask box is open:DD can I request a scenario where Kuroo and his best friend (soon to be s/o but let's just say s/o not to confuse with Kenma)--and Kenma--are riding the train and it's crowded and Kuroo notices that his s/o is uncomfortable with the packed crowd so he decides to stand in a way creeps don't try groping them and then realizes that he wants to protect them and got to confess soon?oh man, college huh?Hopefully it's not too stressful!:3

|| Oooh this one’s cute! I’m a total nerd for scenes like this and not to shoujo manga so here’s a fluffy and cheesy scenario on the way! It’s been a while since I’ve gotten to write or actually think of shoujo stuff like this (which is ironic cuz I’ve been experiencing so much shoujo stuff myself as of late). Oh and no worries! College hasn’t been stressful (for now anyway), but it’s kept me busy especially after getting myself into the orchestra. Also, hope you all enjoy another Kuroo scenario! ||

You always hated rush hour.

The number one thing you’d do after school is leave and ensure to head home as soon as possible. However, today was one of those days in which class rep duties had gone beyond your usual after school hours. You found it bad, especially when you never did like riding the train with a lot of people.

Luckily, you had Kuroo and Kenma by your side though. Their presence was enough to ease you a bit even with your younger best friend so engrossed with the console in his hands. You take a deep breath.

Everything’s going to be fine.

Knowing Kuroo though, he takes note of the action right away. The man’s just too perceptive for his own good.

“Everything okay?” He asks.

You look at him and nod quickly. He gives you a sympathetic smile before patting you on the head. Right, you were never foud of getting home late.

He further understands your reason the moment workers and students enter the train. Suddenly it’s a little more cramped than usual, but that wasn’t the real issue at hand.

It was how a few looked at you.

The least he wanted was to pick a fight and make a scene, but he had the urge punch the guy looking at your back like that. Almost.

The moment Kuroo pulls you close to him, you let out a squeak. He acts like a barricade, a shield to ensure that you’re away from prying and malicious eyes.

“Don’t worry, I got you.” His words are reassuring, warm as he holds you.

Something just seemed to have clicked in him and somehow he can’t help but notice the fact you’re like a flower.

Delicate, gentle…

Blooming.

Someone he had to be gentle with.

The captain zones out for a moment, only for his fellow teammate and close friend to gently karate chop his head. Such brings the middle blocker back into reality.

“We’re at our stop,” Kenma says simply.

Kuroo then loosens his hold on you as the three of you exit the train. His feline-like gazes goes to you as you lock eyes with the man. The two of you remain focused on the other, only to immediately look away after realizing how you’re both staring.

Kenma can only look at the two of you with a sigh of exasperation.

‘About damned time.’

He can only hope either of you plan on making a move soon.

lizzseesstars  asked:

What did you do, practically, to begin coping with OCD? I'm having a lot of urges for self-harm the past 2 days and it feels like there's no way out until you give in. Anyway, sorry this is depressing, but from the little I know about OCD it seems sort of similar in the "there's a dictator in my head who won't freaking leave me alone until I do what s/he says" way. Thanks for any help, for your stories, and for exhibiting a life bravely lived in spite of fear rather than utterly devoid of it.

Dear lizseesstars,

Sometimes when the counting method alone doesn’t help, I make myself an imagination box.

Basically, the idea behind my imagination box was to give myself a thought too busy and abstract to allow me room for the obsessive thought — ideally one spacious and dreamy enough that it would hold me even when I was on the ragged edge of stressful sleep, which is when OCD seems to like to come to play.

My imagination box is made of squares of improbable things. The last one I added was made of sky, for instance, and I had to imagine as hard as I could how a square of sky would look attached to a theoretical box. Does it shift like real sky, is it a portal, can it rain, is it cold? How can I hold the box if I have put a square of field grass on the other side of it during the last session? Yes, it’s a ceaselessly hypothetical game, but if you think about it, obsessive thoughts are too. I just poach that kind of thinking for my imagination box instead.

I hope this helps. Think of the sky.

urs,

Stiefvater

The Blog - Part 1

Request: Three of my favourite things are your incredible talent for writing angst, comical romantic misunderstandings and jealous!sam. Do you think you could combine these three things? Sam would never read someone’s diary, but what about a plot where he accidentally stumbles upon the reader’s totally public blog and reads endless posts about this guy she’s into, not that she ever names him. Jealousy ensues. But surprise! The guy is actually Sam and then fluff happens. Or smut. Or both. I’m flexible.

Sam x Reader

Triggers: None

Word Count: 4098

Y/N = Your name  Y/H/C = Your hair colour

Read part 2 here

—-

Sam

When Sam first stumbled upon your blog a week or so back he’d been happy. N-not that he was a stalker or anything. God no. It wasn’t anything creepy or weird like that. He’d just been happy he had the chance to learn more about the woman he loved. Which probably wouldn’t convince anyone he wasn’t some creepy stalker. But really, if it was you he just wanted to know everything. He loved you so much that even the smallest discovery was groundbreaking news to him, committing it all to memory easily.

He’d started back at the first post. Moving through your experiences along with you and falling a little more for you with every quirky, cute post. You didn’t write about hunting or anything. Sure from time to time you’d mention some herbs or a spell, but no more than what would make people think you were a hobby Wiccan of some sort. No, instead you just talked about your life, your friends, your dreams and aspirations, just all the little pieces that made you, well, you.

Sam liked reading about your past before him, learning things about you he didn’t know. It was as if he had been blessed with a chance to meet you and fall in love with you much earlier. Like he’d been gifted with even more time to love you, both in the past, present and future.

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“Yes, you want her
Look at her, you know you do
It’s possible she wants you, too
There is one way to ask her
It don’t take a word
Not a single word
Go on and kiss the gir”

This is my first time doing an art with background, lighting, and shit! I am reaaaaally happy for myself (and my ship)!!!!
This MIGHT be my final digital artwork for the month for my thesis will be keeping me busy for the rest of the semester (awwwww boooo) Anyways, I could always upload some doodles I create during class! )

This is my advance Valentine’s day gift to the fandom. Stay Miraculous!

Miraculous Ladybug belongs to Thomas Astruc
Support Miraculous when it airs!

Neymar Smutty Oneshot

Please let me know what you think of it, critism is welcome

Prompt: Neymar, one of your best friends, invited you over to a Barcelona match because it has been ages since you two have seen each other. You decide to go to the game with your siblings, but because of their delayed flight you have to fix your ride to Nou on your own. You figure that Ney can pick you up on his way to Nou and things go different than expected.

#BestFriendsWithNey #TakingItToTheNextLevel #ConfessionTime

“Hey darling, it is Rafi. About tonight, we will have to meet up at Nou because I have to pick up Marco and Gisele from the airport. Their flight got delayed so I can’t hang out with you before the game. We will see you at our seats okay. Let me know if this isn’t working out or whatever.” 

Classic. Rafi has to pick up Marco and Gisele from the airport. I have such shit siblings, they can’t fix anything for themselves. Since Rafi is the oldest he acts like our dad and cleans up after our asses. But of course, Marco and Gisele couldn’t take the bus or grab a cab.

“It’s okay Rafi, I will see you guys at our spots. I will call Ney and ask if he can pick me up on his way to Nou. See you in a few Xxx”

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this bitch. this pokeball stealing motherfucker, this outright disrespect to my entire existence as a pokemon trainer. this ball guzzling piece of shit cobra took all of my pokeballs to catch. every single one. i went to three different pokestops to get more pokeballs and then i found this bitch at 8:30 pm behind my apartment. i couldn’t pass up the chance. i didnt have it yet, and i had to use these pokeballs i crossed busy streets for anyway. so what was one or two pokeballs?? i was innocent. i was naive. ignorant to the truth of what this would do to me. failed attempt after failed attempt went by as i threw so, so many pokeballs, which all fell short or curved far too much. i spent so long catching this motherfucking arbok. one ball left. i found myself against this giant motherfucker with only one pokeball, and i finally caught it. but at what cost?? i no longer have any pokeballs. i dont want to walk all that way again. i dont want another arbok to happen. i was a stubborn fool

2

Dear Marlon  

I’m praying that you’ll buy ON THE ROAD and make a movie of it. Don’t worry about the structure, I know to compress and re-arrange the plot a bit to give a perfectly acceptable movie-type structure: making it into one all-inclusive trip instead of the several voyages coast-to-coast in the book, one vast round trip from New York to Denver to Frisco to Mexico to New Orleans to New York again. I visualize the beautiful shots could be made with the camera on the front seat of the car showing the road (day and night) unwinding into the windshield, as Sal and Dean yak. I wanted you to play the part because Dean (as you know) is no dopey hotrodder but a real intelligent (in fact Jesuit) Irishman. You play Dean and I’ll play Sal (Warner Bros. mentioned I play Sal) and I’ll show you how Dean acts in real life, you couldn’t possibly imagine it without seeing a good imitation. Fact, we can go visit him in Frisco, or have him come down to L.A. still a real frantic cat but nowadays settled down with his final wife saying the Lord’s Prayer with his kiddies at night… as you’ll see when you read the play BEAT GENERATION. All I want out of this is to be able to establish myself and by mother a trust fund for life, so I can really go roaming around the world writing about Japan, India, France etc… I Want to be free to write what comes out of my head & free to feed my buddies when they’re hungry & not worry about my mother.

Incidentally, my next novel is THE SUBTERRANEANS coming out in N.Y. next March and is about a love affair between a white guy and a colored girl and is a very hep story. Some of the characters in it you know in the Village (Stanley Gould etc.) It easily could be turned into a play, easier than ON THE ROAD.

What I wanta do is re-do the theater and the cinema in America, give it a spontaneous dash, remove pre-conceptions of “situation” and let people rave on as they do in real life. That’s what the play is: no plot in particular, no “meaning” in particular, just the way people are. Everything I write I do in the spirit where I imagine myself an Angel returned to the earth seeing it with sad eyes as it is. I know you approve of these ideas, & incidentally the new Frank Sinatra show is based on “spontaneous” too, which is the only way to come on anyway, whether in business or life. The French movies of the 30’s are still far superior to ours because the French really let their actors come on and the writers didn’t quibble with some preconceived notion of how intelligent the movie audience is, they talked soul from soul and everybody understood at once. I want to make great French Movies in America, finally, when I’m rich… American theater & Cinema at present is an outmoded dinosaur that ain’t mutated along with the best in American Literature. 

If you really want to go ahead, make arrangements to see me in New York when next you come, or if you’re going to FLorida here I am, but what we should do is talk about this because I prophesy that it’s going to be the beginning of something real great. I’m bored nowadays and I’m looking around for something to do in the world, anyway — writing novels is getting too easy, same with plays, I wrote the play in 24 hours. 

Come on now, Marlon, put up your dukes and write! 

Sincerely, later, Jack Kerouac 

 [via Huffington Post]

I have no business throwing myself into yet another weird Ichiruki-Bleach-AU thing, but lately I’ve realised that I probably worry about my writing way too much which is why I never get anything longer than a oneshot done. In the interests of actually learning to write a multichaptered fic, I’ve decided I‘m going to write this one really lightheartedly, no worrying about whether each turn of phrase is exactly right allowed. As a consequence, it might be kinda shit. But, uh, do feel free to give it a go anyway. 

Also, the summary and the first chapter make it look kinda bleak but dw it’s going to be quite lighthearted. I think. Maybe. Look I have no idea where this is going ok just have it 

Title: Cyclical 

Summary: In a peculiar twist of fate, Rukia dies, but Ichigo endures. A century later, she’s the reincarnated headstrong human teenager and he’s the long-suffering shinigami who sort-of-accidentally may have transferred his powers to her. 

Some things are different. Some things are the same.

And some things, it seems, will never ever change.

Ratings: Probably T-13 for swearing

Warnings: none 

Archive: Current Post | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 

Read on ao3 | ffnet



Chapter 1: Incidence 


I’m going to kill the person who first came up with the concept of soul mates.

All that bullshit about being mentally connected? Lies. All that crap about taking one look at them and something in you clicking, you being made whole — quite frankly, a pile of horseshit. All that ‘through every life, in whatever form, I’ll know you’ reincarnation bull — fucking hell. I want my money back.

Don’t believe everything you read in books, kids. You think you’ll recognise the love of your life if she gets cut down in front of you by your nemesis and reincarnated into the world you literally just abandoned to be with her?

You’re fucking wrong.


 

Soul Society, Captain’s Quarters, Eighth Division, 2103 AD

“We found her.”

It’s the best thing Kurosaki Ichigo has heard in a century. The statement is short, brusque and without context, but even so, he knows exactly what it means. There is only one person about whom Renji Abarai would have come to him for, eyes ablaze with an intensity he knows all too well himself.

“Show me,” he says, kind of unable to believe his luck— but then again, if the universe was any kind of fair, it was due to show him some mercy sometime in the next decade.

It’s just, you know, the universe has never really been all that fair before.

But who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth? Urahara had said it would be nigh-on impossible to find her again, after he managed to anchor her soul together and send it off into the cycle of reincarnation instead of letting it drift apart like it would have without the intervention. He’d saved her, he’d said, or what he could of her, anyway; but Kurosaki-san shouldn’t expect her to be exactly like the Rukia Kuchiki he knows— had known. Actually, on second thoughts, Kurosaki-san shouldn’t expect to find her again at all, period. Rukia Kuchiki, as he’d known her, was gone.

What was the point then, he had raged, what was the point of sending her soul into the reincarnation cycle anyway if it wouldn’t result in her? If Rukia Kuchiki was gone and this soul was going to inhabit a new body and grow up to be a stranger—this, this was no solution at all, and Rukia was still dead. What was the point?

But even as he’d raged, he’d felt it— cruelly, a voice in his head was whispering that this was better than nothing. Something of her was out there, something of her warmth, her light, her goodness, and if he could just find her again, even if it wasn’t exactly her

He’d refused to let that whispering voice bloom into anything resembling hope, but some part of him must have agreed, because instead of letting his Hollow run rampant, instead of running away into the woods and becoming a hermit, instead of falling on his own sword and following her into the cycle like he’d wanted to, he’d endured. He slaughtered Ywhach; decimated the Sternritters; accepted the Captaincy the Gotei-13 offered him; if he was going to find her (he still refused to call the strange lightness in his chest hope), Soul Society, with all its connections and spells and Kurotsuchi Mayuri’s twisted idea of science, would be the best place to start.

He’d forgotten this was Soul Society they were talking about. The place that apparently has no organisational structure worth mentioning, despite being entrusted with the afterlife of every single person that had ever existed on the planet. Fuck, people had to band together in weird nuclear second families just to stay alive in the outskirts of the place. Their soul-finding program was beyond shit.

The only thing shittier than Soul Society’s structure (or lack thereof) had been his own thought processes when he convinced himself that joining them would be the most efficient way of finding Kuchiki Rukia.

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anonymous asked:

Could you write a "please for the love of god help you’re the only one here who speaks English" au? cx

Will had decided he was never going on an out of country vacation ever again. He would pacify himself with Disney World and the Grand Canyon for the rest of his life. This was a nightmare. Rome was a nightmare.

He wasn’t entirely sure how no one died with the traffic patterns in the city. No crosswalks. People came and went as they pleased. He’d been honked at by some guy on a moped when trying to get to the other side of the street.

The best part was was that the street signs were incredibly confusing, and Will, who was used to the orderly city blocks of America, was completely and utterly lost. He was supposed to meet his family at a cafe right near the Colosseum, but they could be in Antarctica for all Will knew. He was completely and utterly lost.

He’d tried talking to some of the natives of the city, but that had just gotten him some disgruntled looks and a lot of swearing. The only people who’d spoken any English was a German tourist couple and their directions had only confused Will more. 

Having given into fate, Will plopped down at an outdoor cafe table and groaned. Maybe he’d go back to their hotel and take a shower and a nap. That was, of course, if he could find his way back to their hotel. 

Scusi?” A voice from behind him asked, “Sir, are you alright?”

Sweet, blessed English. Will turned around to see a man dressed in jeans and a black button down with two buttons undone smiling at him. He was very attractive. Dark hair and eyes with the longest eyelashes Will had ever seen on a man. His skin was a deep olive color. His expression was friendly, but there was a tinge of worry in his features. God, was Will really that pathetic? Probably. 

“No,” Will said, “I am very, very lost.”

The man slid into the chair across from him and clasped his hands together on the table, “Where are you trying to go?”

“The Colosseum.” Will said, “And the only people who’ve given me any sort of direction were some German tourists.”

The man laughed, “They probably think they know the city better than we do. I am Nico, by the way.”

“Will.” Will said. And then, “Do you think you could give me directions?”

“I can give you more than directions,” Nico said, “I’ll take you there myself. I have business on that side of the city anyways.”

“Wait,” Will said, “Really?” He knew to be careful of people though, especially charming Italian men in shirts that were open too low and smiles that were too wide. “What do you want?” Will asked, his look shrewd. 

Nico laughed again, throwing his head back this time. “You are wise to be careful, especially these days. My payment? Hm, how about dinner? I will pay.”

Will blinked several times, confused. This handsome stranger wanted to have dinner with him? 

Nico’s smile shrunk. He cleared his throat, “Sorry, was that too forward?”

“Yes, I mean, no, ah,” Will stuttered, “I would like to have dinner with you. Yes.”

Nico’s smile tugged back at the corner of his lips, “Perfetto. Follow me then, Will.”

Will took the proffered arm and followed him though the streets of Rome.

anonymous asked:

signs on a diet ?

Aries: I CAN DO THIS! I WILL do this! *2 days later* fuxk it. *eats whole chocolate cake whilst laughing like an evil maniac*

Taurus: This will be easy! *2 seconds later* I CAN’T DO THIS! The food is calling me *runs to kitchen and scoffs face*

Gemini: I can adapt to new things. I can get used to all this dieting! *the next day* This is too difficult *runs and cries to friends for support*

Cancer: *whilst crying* I’m doing this for my friends, my family, all the people I love. I am going to make them so happy with all this dieting and that’s all I care about *sniffs and wipes tear away* I’m so hungry… *diets for a year and loses too much weight. Family is disappointed with how much of a health freak Cancer has become*

Leo: I don’t need to diet. I’m amazing *smiles*

Virgo: Okay, I can do this. I will need to make a schedule on when and what I will eat EVERY day. I will make sure I don’t go over 1502.536 calories a day!

Libra: I’m gonna do this *2 mins later* I can’t do this *1 min later* I will do this!! *1 sec later* no I can’t I’m too hungry *10 mins later* Okay fine I’ll diet! *1 min later* no.

Scorpio: Eurgh look at every one else, so skinny and pretty! I am so jealous *thinks for a few minutes and sighs* I’m going to stop eating… I won’t tell anyone though! I’ll wait and see if they notice a difference in me *laughs to self*

Sagittarius: *Diets for a day* WHY DO I LOOK THE SAME STILL?! *Gives up* I don’t need to diet anyways, I look good the way I am! You can either love me or leave me kbye

Capricorn: I can so do this! I will set my goal weight to 50kg! *Diets for years, doesn’t talk to anyone due to being too busy trying to reach goal* *Years later* I’ve done it! I am so proud of myself *cries with happiness, but is a loner*

Aquarius: I am a strong, independent woman/man! If every one else is dieting, I can too! *next day* nah, this is not for me *spontaneously runs away to NASA and becomes an astronaut*

Pisces: To become healthier and to look good for my crush I understand that I need to diet. *Eats healthy food for years and becomes healthier and thinner* I hope I’m good enough for you now *cries a little*

any words is winning

I’m not doing nanowrimo cause I never get to 50k and it’s a great way to yell at myself – which I do 10000000% too much of anyway – so instead I’m going to do failno, which is exactly like nanowrimo except without the anxiety inducing goals and competition.

I’m trying for 15 min of writing a day, and if I don’t make it, there is no catching up the next day. Shit happens, November is a hideously busy month for everyone but white cis dudes with wives, and if I can’t words one day, I’ll try again the next.

If you want to do it with me, the tag will be “any words is winning” and remember: ten shitty words is ten more shitty words than you started with.

Any comments, suggestions or questions, pop over to the ask box! Also please feel free to tell me how you are doing! Emoji admiration always available!🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

anonymous asked:

so you said on one of the Off Topics that you graduated college at almost 15... so like do you have like a super high IQ? and if you know what it is, what is it?

Never bothered to have my IQ checked, I have no faith in those types of tests so I wouldn’t really bother with it anyway.  Intelligence, in a societal view, is all just for show and generally used to show a mindless sense of superiority for no good reason.  The people who are actually smart are generally way too busy attempting to make the world a better place, and mad props to them for doing so.

I got my college degree that early because I was dedicated to finishing and pushed myself, then when I saw the finish line in sight I realized “School is incredibly boring” and just slammed past my last few classes, got my diploma, and then devoted my time to learning useful skills on my own time outside of the general “School” setting.