week 12 of 52

We did it. We made it through! 12 months. 52 weeks. 365 days. 8,760 hours. 2017 is almost over. Let’s celebrate the stuff that made you happy. Here’s a toast to your favorite things on Tumblr. 

This is Tumblr’s Year in Review: 2017

We looked over thousands of lines of data, scouring each and every popular tag in each and every popular category. We sorted this data with our very own Fandometrics rating technique, the pleasingly scientific system that measures searches, original posts, reblogs, and likes to rank your enthusiasm and love. 

For the first year ever, we have a community guest post. Meme Documentation (@memedocumentation) got deep into the nostalgia surrounding 2017’s most popular memes.

Have questions about how this works? Wonder why Guy Fieri is not on any of these lists? Ask away! We’re going to answer your questions live on our Instagram on Wednesday, December 6 and again Wednesday, December 13.

Now here’s what you’ve been waiting for. Tumblr’s favorite things in 2017:


Ships
Remember: If your OTP didn’t make this list, it’s okay. It just means you are directly responsible and should’ve made more posts about them.

Animated TV
The only list where a self-loathing horse and an extremely rich duck can be found in competition with each other.

Live-Action TV
In the golden age of television, every single one of these is a winner. Some are just winnier than others.

Movies
Moonlight beat La La Land in this list, too, but neither were No. 1.

Actresses
You like them! You really like them!

Actors
Once again we find ourselves with a disproportionate amount of men named Chris. No one is complaining. Especially the men named Chris.

Models
20 women who have perfected everything from their smizes to their struts.

Television Personalities
The alternative name was “people who get paid a lot for being themselves on TV,” but that wasn’t very catchy.

Athletes
For a community based on competition, the sports community on Tumblr is incredibly supportive and kind.

Wrestling Superstars
Hit up this link or we’ll break out our meanest piledriver.

Web Series
We put all of your favorite stuff from the internet onto one list on the internet.

Web Celebrities
The definitive list of your favorite YouTubers, Twitchers, and podcasters.  

Solo Artists
We’re warning you now: Taylor Swift was knocked down a peg. There’s a new No. 1 in these here parts.

Bands
Five of these bands have numbers in their names, ranging from one to 1975.

K-Pop
Get your light sticks ready!

K-Pop Band Members
Did your ultimate bias make No. 1?

Musicals
While we’re talking, let us offer you some free advice: Block less. Reblog more. Let your followers know what musical you’re against or what you’re for.

Video Games
⬆️⬆️⬇️⬇️⬅️➡️⬅️➡️🅱️🅰️

Books
You asked, we delivered. Feast your eyes on these words, you incredible bookworms.

Authors
Fun (?) fact: This is the only list in the batch that features a man who died over 400 years ago.

Anime & Manga
You’re gonna triple axel when you see what’s No. 1.

Tumblr Communities
They aren’t any more or less important than the communities that didn’t make the cut. They’re just the ones that tagged their posts the most.

Food & Drink
This list is zero carbs, and yet it’s full of carbs.

Animals
Old MacDonald had a blog, T-U-M-B-L-R.

Dog Breeds
Some puppers, a few pupperinos, a couple of fluffers, and, of course, a h*ckin’ boofer. boop this list, fren

Memes
Tired: Tagging your friend in a meme.
Wired: Tagging your friend in the replies to the Memes post.

Writerscreed Challenge of the Week 11/26 - 12/2

For week 52 of our Writerscreed Challenges, we have the following prompt: If I could

You may use the phrase or let it inspire you. We can’t wait to see what you come up with!

For our challenges, we accept and encourage all types of writing, you are not restricted in terms of style. We just ask you to please stay on topic and please read our post on topics we do not want glorified and condoned, as they will not be reblogged by us.

Tag your post #writerscreedchallenge and we will reblog your work throughout the week. Thanks, and we look forward to reading all your work. If you are concerned that your work was overlooked (Tumblr can be glitchy with tags), please contact @teacup13. She’s running the prompt this week.

*note: for writing that is not related to the challenge please use the tag #writerscreed*

As always, if you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to message any one of the administrators or send us an ask in our inbox.

We All Fall Down - Twenty One

You spent Tuesday and Wednesday looking after Henry at Jennifer’s…. JJ’s request. By the time Wednesday afternoon rolled around, he was much brighter looking, had managed to eat two full meals, and was bouncing around the living room when his mother returned from work. 

“Back to school for you tomorrow I think, little man!” JJ ruffled his blonde hair and he giggled. 

“Well, just call if you need me okay. I’ve got a meeting tomorrow but I can always reschedule." 

"A meeting?” JJ raised her eyebrows questionably, although unlike the other times in the past you didn’t feel like it was meant cruelly. 

“A job interview. Kind of. It’s just at this diner Tara and Emily know of, outside of town, Al’s? I feel like I need to do something with my days and start earning a living or something." 

"Oh! Well good for you, Y/N. And Al’s serve great food, their pancakes are to die for." 

You grinned. "So I’ve heard." 

"Have you ever…. have you ever thought about going to back to school? Finishing your degree?" 

Shaking you head, you replied. "No. I could barely afford college the first time around, it was only thanks to the scholarship that I could go." 

JJ pursed her lips thoughtfully. "You know, if it was something you really wanted to do and you and Spencer DO sort things out, he’d help you pay for it." 

He would and you knew that but you wrinkled your nose. "I wouldn’t even know what to do. Writing was the only thing I was ever any good at and I haven’t done that in years. And if I did ever go back, I think I’d like to fund myself rather than relying on other people." 

JJ nodded, accepting your words. You stood, making to leave. 

"Stay, please. If you don’t have any other plans this evening, stay and eat with us. Will will be at work late tonight and cooking for you is the least I can do to say thank you for watching Henry." 

You were going to protest but saw something in her face that made you stay. She was trying with you, trying to be your friend or perhaps just your sister in law. But after all the animosity between you, it mattered. So you stayed for another two hours, eating a home cooked meal with her and your nephew after texting Emily to say you’d be home later. As you left, JJ reached into her purse, pulling out a bundle of bills and pressing them upon you. You shook your head vehemently. 

"JJ, he’s my nephew. I was happy to watch him." 

"I know. It’s been three full days of your time though and if I’d have taken leave or had to pay a child minder it would have cost me a lot more than this, trust me.”

“Honestly JJ, it’s fine.”

She kept holding her hand out, not moving it away. “Please Y/N. Buy a new dress or something, or take Tara and Emily out for a meal.”

You wondered whether the money was her way of trying make up for her behaviour towards you in the past, and eventually you reached out and took it, noting there was around two hundred dollars there. You’d add it to the money you had stashed in your make up bag, left over from phone shopping, and maybe you would do what she’d suggested and take Emily and Tara out. Hopefully if tomorrow went alright you’d be earning a wage soon and could offer them board money for letting you stay, although you doubted they'd accept it. 

“Alright fine. But I’m taking it under duress. And call me if you need a sitter again and Diana isn’t available. I like watching him, he’s a great kid.”

“I will do. And good luck for tomorrow.”

You said your goodbyes and started making your way home, or at least to what had come to be your temporary home. The streetlights were starting to come on, the sun disappearing for the evening. You wanted a long hot bath and maybe to share a glass of wine with the girls. 

That wasn’t to happen though. As you pulled into their driveway, there was another familiar car parked up and you could see the shape of someone sitting on the bench on the porch. Someone who you weren’t quite sure you were ready to see yet. 

He stood as you pulled the car to a stop and you were in two minds whether to just drive away, but then you realised; you couldn’t run from him forever. Especially not with his twin sister, his brother in law, and three other people in the town knowing what was going on between you two. 

No, you needed to face him. See what he had to say for himself. 

And come up with something to say for yourself. 

It was time to face your husband. 

Locking the car you stepped towards the porch, Spencer’s eyes on you the whole time. You approached him tentatively, not knowing what you were going to say. As you got nearer to him, the front door opened and Emily and Tara stepped out. 

“Do you want us to call Will, Y/N?” Emily asked, giving Spencer the side eye. 

“No it’s fine. I’ll speak to him." 

She went to ask if you were sure but Tara jumped in, somehow knowing that you had made your decision and that Emily need not push you. "We’ll be right inside. Call if you need anything.” With that, she placed her hand on her partner’s arm and steered her back inside, closing the door behind them. 

You looked at your husband, taking him in. He looked tired, stubble covering his chin and the bags under his eyes were deeper and more prominent than normal. Had he been worried about you or just worried for himself? 

“So?" 

"Can we go inside, sit somewhere and talk?” he asked, sounding more nervous than you’d heard him in a while. 

“No. I’m not inviting you inside somewhere that isn’t my home. Because I don’t have a home remember? You threw me out. If you wanna talk, we do it out here.” You approached the wooden bench and sat yourself down on it, feeling like for the first time in years you somehow had the upper hand. He followed suit, sitting back down on the other end. 

“I am sorry about that Y/N. So very sorry. I was just so….” he broke off, pushing his hand through his hair. 

“So what, Spencer? I don’t understand what even happened." 

"I was just… I’ve just lost my dad. And those things in the box belonged to him. I snapped okay? I’ve been under a lot of stress with the move, looking out for my mom, the new job. Not to mention how awful it’s been between you and I recently. Will you come home, please? I just want things to go back to how they were before." 

You stared at him, wondering why on earth he would want that. And rather than pushing that thought to one side like you would have done in the past, you asked. "You want thing to go back to how they were? Spencer, we were miserable! You must see that? We were just…we were stagnant. How can you want that again?" 

"Because I want you! I love you Y/N, I always have. And I know you’ve never felt the same but I can live with that." 

"I… I can’t though. You say you love me but you threw me out because of something that wasn’t even my fault? You say you love me but you threw a wine glass at me. I had to have stitches Spencer. You say you love me but for the passed six months you’ve acted like I don’t exist, and you know what? I didn’t care. You don’t love me, you can’t love me. We have nothing in common, nothing binding us together. You shouldn’t love me." 

"But I do! My father always told me I should find a girl who could set my soul on fire with words and their beauty, and you do that!" 

There it was. That line you had heard from Spencer before. And that line that he had apparently said years before he even knew you existed, to another girl. You frowned. 

"Like Elle Greenaway could?" 

Spencer froze and you wondered how he was going to try and back track his way out of this. 

"You know about her?" 

You nodded. 

"I was young Y/N…. And stupid. I should not have pursued her the way I did. But you, you were different." 

"Because I was legal?" 

"What?!” he looked appalled and disgusted. “No. You were different because….because… because you needed me. You needed me as much as I needed you." 

"I didn’t need you Spencer. I needed your money so that I could end the pregnancy, but you didn’t want to give me that. And I was in that much of a shit hole that I let you convince me that you were my best option. I didn’t need you then and I don’t need you now. The only thing I need from you is a divorce..please." 

His face fell and his shoulders slumped, and he was silent for a few moments before finally speaking. 

"I can’t do that. Not now, not yet.” He thought deeply before taking a long breath. “Come home with me. Give me a year, let’s try counselling first, and let my family deal with losing my father. If after a year you still want the divorce, I’ll give it to you." 

A year. 12 months, 52 weeks, 365 days. 

Could you? Let his family deal with losing William before supporting him through losing you was essentially what he was asking.

"Please Y/N. My mother thinks a lot of you. She always wanted another child and she was so happy when we married because it meant she’d have that in a way, another daughter, even if it was just by law. She always asked me about you when I’d speak to her, she always wanted to get to know you better and she never got the chance. She has that chance now.”

An overwhelming sensation of guilt coarsed through you suddenly and you wondered if he wasn’t just manipulating you.

“Why let her get to know me if it’s only going to be for a year?” you asked.

“Because…. because…. She’s fragile right now. We all are. My family can’t deal with anymore loss, even if JJ and Will do know what’s been going on between us. In a year, it’ll be easier for everyone.”

“But if I refuse to come back, you’ll have to tell your mother eventually. She’ll realise sooner or later. I might even tell her myself, tell her exactly what happened between us.”

“Could you though?”

He had you there. You couldn’t tell her, you couldn’t face destroying a mother’s belief that her son was a perfect angel. Not when that mother was already grieving. And although Spencer would have to come clean, you’d no doubt have to face her as well, you couldn’t afford to leave the town and you had nowhere else to go to even if you could.

“It’s one year Y/N. If you’re still not happy with our marriage after one year, I promise I will divorce you and I’ll fund the entire thing.”

One year.

“I’m not saying yes. Not right now. I don’t know if I can trust you enough not to throw me out again if I do the wrong thing." 

Spencer nodded. "I understand that. Can I explain though? It won’t make what I did any better but… let me explain what was in that box." 

take this burden - part 22

Jian Yi and Zhengxi.

[ leave a trace - CHVRCHES ]

-

Jian Yi liked to think about their first time.

Zhengxi did too.

But they rarely talked about it.

Jian Yi had spent so many years desperately wanting his best friend.

Not just sexually, necessarily.

He just…wanted him.

After awhile, being friends wasn’t enough.

And, after a while, after being turned down so very many times- it was time to move on.

No one but Jian Yi knows the extent of the…troubles he had with his first boyfriend.

Not even Zhengxi.

But he knew enough to understand why Jian Yi was so immediately protective of Mo Guan Shan.

Zhengxi came to feel the same way almost immediately.

When Jian Yi was 17 years old he met a man that seemed to be pretty decent boyfriend material.

People like that often do.

He realized he was wrong quickly, swallowed his pride and told Zhengxi.

The next day he chose to bail his best friend out of jail and didn’t bother to visit the other man in the hospital.

Having had plenty of time alone with nothing to do but think, the first thing Zhengxi did when they stepped back into the sunshine was embrace Jian Yi.

The first thing he said was ‘I’m sorry.’

The second thing he did was hold Jian Yi’s face in his hands and kiss him until a police officer told them to clear out.

The second thing he said was ‘I love you.’

Things moved slowly between them.

Agonizingly slowly.

He Tian thought he was suffering on day four.
Oh, please.

It took the two of them a year.

It was an agreement they’d made.

Jian Yi was terrified that Zhengxi was doing this out of guilt, or just to make him happy.

Zhengxi couldn’t stand the thought of irrevocably destroying their friendship, or push him too far too fast.

It was all hand holding and relatively innocent kisses for the first little while.

That graduated to small displays of public affection and a bit more contact.

They’d both taken to masturbating before meeting up.

Four months passed at a snail’s pace.

They’d moved on to careful hand jobs.

Six months in they moved in together, staying in separate rooms.

Eight progressively painful months passed.

They got very, very, drunk and Jian Yi gave Zhengxi a sloppy blowjob.

Zhengxi lasted all of four seconds.

Ten months, Jian Yi convinced (begged) him to finger him.

By the time the slowest year the world had ever seen was over, they’d both reached a level of desperation akin to insanity.

12 months doesn’t sound too bad, right?

52 weeks?

365 days?

8,760 hours?

525,600 minutes?

31,536,000 seconds?!

It was torture.

They planned to make an evening if it.

Zhengxi had the day off work.

He made all of Jian Yi’s favorite foods, picked out some romantic music.

He’d even lit candles.

He made sure they had plenty of lube and condoms.

He even got everything together for a bubble bath after it was all over.

Jian Yi came home from work, kicked his boots off and closed himself in the bathroom.

Before Zhengxi could process this fully, Jian Yi was back, stark naked, drying his hair.

He dropped the towel and made a beeline for Zhengxi.

He grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the living room.

‘What are you-’

‘Take your clothes off.’ Jian Yi demanded.

Even when he tried to argue that the food would get cold he had already started undressing.

When he was done, Jian Yi shoved him onto the couch and straddled his lap and kissed him deeply.

Jian Yi kissed down his jaw, sucking gently at the side of his neck, gently running his tongue over the sharp collarbone.

‘Jian Yi, I…’ he gestured towards the rapidly cooling food on the table half heartedly.

‘I can see that. Thank you. But as of right now, I’ve waited years to feel you inside me and I refuse to wait a fucking second longer.

‘G-give me the lube, I’ll get you ready.’ Zhengxi whispered, holding his hand out for the small bottle in the other man’s hand.

Jian Yi shook his head.

‘Took care of it in the shower.’ He explained, popping the cap open to pour a liberal amount into his palm before reaching down and spreading it over Zhengxi’s, already painful, erection.

He wasted no time sitting up on his knees, lining them up, and sinking down on him one inch at a time.

The wet, hot, pressure that engulfed him was so overwhelming he thought he was going to black out.

He didn’t take his eyes off Jian Yi’s face for a second.

The pain he tried to hide was heartbreaking but he clearly had prepared himself.

Before Zhengxi could tell him to take it slow, he had taken it all in.

Zhengxi stroked his back as he took several deep breaths.

Very slowly, the muscles around him began to relax.

Jian Yi lifted himself up on shaking arms before sinking down again.

‘Jian Yi, oh my god.’ Zhengxi’s voice was rough and strained.

He did it three more times.

Zhengxi shook with the effort of not flipping them over and fucking him the way he imagined several times a day.

Stay still.

Let him get used to it.

‘Ok.’ Jian Yi whispered.

‘I’m ready.’

‘What…what should I do?’ Zhengxi asked lamely.

Thankfully, Jian Yi understood.

‘I want you on top.’

They carefully maneuvered themselves so Jian Yi was flat on his back, Zhengxi between his legs.

‘Are you ready?’

Jian Yi nodded, skin bright red from the roots of his hair to the head of his cock.

‘I’ve been waiting for a very, very, long time to say this.’ Jian Yi informed him quietly, pulling the other man down by the back of his neck.

‘Fuck me, Zhengxi.’

He did not need to be asked twice.
As gently as he could, he began to move
his hips.

Jian Yi wrapped a leg around his waist, tilting his hips up with a soft, contented, sigh.

After several whispered pleas, Jian Yi froze, catching his attention.

‘Zhengxi. Fuck. me. harder.’ He growled, sending shivers down Zhengxi’s spine.

When you think of someone, there’s always a few pictures that pop into your head.

Images of them burned into your memory.

Maybe they were laughing, or smiling, or doing something stupid.

There’s always a picture or two that stick.

Months before that memorable night, Zhengxi had been experimenting.

Using instructions from the internet, (where all the most reliable instructions come from) he’d found his prostate.

It had been an uncommonly difficult feat and he didn’t do it often because the angle killed his shoulder, but he when he did it was more than a noteworthy experience.

Trying to use his vague knowledge to find Jian Yi’s was awkward and likely confusing, but the look on Jian Yi’s face.

The utter shock as his back arched and fingernails dug into Zhengxi’s shoulders as he came…

That was rarely far from his mind.

Zhengxi didn’t last much longer.

They cleaned up.

The atmosphere in the room was different than it had ever been.

The tension had eased.

The elephant in the room had found someone new to frustrate.

They ate dinner, talked about their respective days, washed dishes together, and made their way back to the bedroom.

There was no uncertainty this time.

No doubts or fear that either one of them didn’t want it.

Zhengxi spoiled Jian Yi just as he’d always imagined.

He held him closely as he fingered him for god knows how long, teaching them both about Jian Yi and.

He swallowed his embarrassment, starting with tiny licks and kisses around that tight, twitching, ring of muscle, and ended with his Zhengxi fucking his boyfriend with his tongue until he begged for his cock.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms only when the sun began to rise, grateful they’d taken the next day off work.

2

[ 02.11.17 | 12:37 ] 

52-Week BuJo Challenge ♥ by  @whycantistudyinpeace

  • Week 5: How are you feeling today? I say “Inspired” because of a classmate’s life story~ 
  • Week 6: Favorite Quote: Do what you love and Do it often 😌 

Had no more space left last week so I decided to cave ‘em to this week’s 😂 also a sneak peek of my Valentine spread for next week yaaay~ so pink again ^^

studygram: pastelle.study

25 days of Klaroline + Favourite Parallel - Klaroline and Warnette (Shatter Me Series) Pic not mine but isn’t it gorgeous?

This isn’t a fusion as such (not this time anyway), mainly because I didn’t want to copy either the books or TVD/TO themes, so I’ve created my own world in between with some Klaroline and Shatter Me touches.  An angsty drabble that I think both Klaroline and Warnette could exist in, if that makes sense?  

To me Warnette are Klaroline. The forbidden love aspect, their vast differences but at the same time their similarities, villainous father figures, the similar character traits (Aaron Warner and Klaus Mikaelson are pretty much the same person, right?)

The book’s author, Tahereh Mafi, apparently said this is her Warnette song, hence the title. It is a stunning piece of musical genius by The Airborne Toxic Event.

Klaus and Caroline were once lovers until a dangerous threat forces them apart abruptly.  Warning: Angst alert.

Sometime Around Midnight

And it starts, sometime around midnight. Or at least that’s when you lose yourself for a minute or two.

His attention is focused on the amber liquid, swirling it around the glass. Nothing matters anymore. It hasn’t for a year now.

12 months. 52 weeks. 365 days of dull, grey and lifeless existence. Life was vibrant before. Bathed in a rainbow of colour and filled with happiness and in a love so consuming he couldn’t breathe at times. It was strangely comforting then but the suffocation he feels now, not so much. Being a vampire that says a lot.  

Klaus swallows what’s left, barely tasting it as it slips down his throat. He is as immune to its effects as he is to emotion these days. He pushes the glass across the bar impatiently.

“I’ll take another whiskey,” his voice is gruff, barely audible above the din in the hottest new establishment in Chicago.  The barman doesn’t respond just fills his glass without question.

365 days ago Klaus left her during the night. Cowardly, maybe, but necessary. His father didn’t approve of his relationship with Caroline, said love was a vampire’s greatest weakness and if he was going to lead the Original family against their circling enemies his human distraction would be his biggest downfall. Most families would quarrel but the Mikaelson way to deal with differences was much more violent and permanent. He was as frightened of Mikael as he was their enemies and what they might do to Caroline in a fit of anger.  

He remembered that last night like it was yesterday. She looked so peaceful. She’d thrown off the sheet during the night, a sleeping trait he knew well. The only thing she liked to cover her for warmth was him she’d said once as she straddled his body and feathered kisses along the length of his collarbone. Klaus didn’t think it was possible to be as happy as he was at that very moment. Klaus would gladly be her blanket as long as she’d have him.

Looking at her that night, Klaus felt bitter sweet. Bitter to be leaving but all the sweeter for knowing and loving Caroline Forbes. The moonlight spilled into the bedroom window, the silver shadows dancing across her bare skin as she slept. Her blonde waves were fanned out across the pillow messily. He leant down unable to resist, combing his fingers through the knots he’d caused. She pretended to hate it when he tangled her locks during their intense lovemaking but her ensuing and passionate moans told Klaus she didn’t mind one bit.

Klaus remembers everything. He’s stored it away in a compartment in the dark recesses of his mind but something escapes without warning every now and again. Whether it is the adorable way she pokes out her tongue or the sound of his name rolling off her tongue. 

His hand stilled on her head, closing his eyes and concentrating on what he needed to do to make her forget him forever. 

Klaus disappeared into the night with only a small bag of personal belongings. Photographs of her mainly, even though Klaus knew he would never forget the swell of her breasts or the creamy colour of her skin. Her leather bound journal found it’s way into his bag too. It was filled with some of her most raw and vulnerable thoughts. He told himself it was so she didn’t uncover the truth but Klaus knew he had a much more selfish motive. It was their story and Klaus needed to know it was real for all eternity, that their love wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. 

It is something he still reads daily, desperate to rewind and play back their love story. It is all he has left.

Tomorrow would be just another day. They would go their separate ways and Mikael wouldn’t harm her. His father was not someone to make empty threats and the one against Caroline was all too real if Klaus continued to defy him. This was for the best. But why did it have to hurt so much?

A hush falls over the crowd. Klaus closes his eyes in preparation, steeling his nerves. It has been 365 days since he last saw her and tonight they will come together again.  Just not in the same way as before. Swivelling his barstool to face the stage, his breath hitches in his throat. She appears, an absolute vision in white.

As you stand, under the bar lights. And the band plays some song, about forgetting yourself for a while. And the piano’s this melancholy sound check.

Caroline Forbes always wanted to perform. While her friends were talking college courses she envisaged herself on stage singing.  Her mom laughed off her ambition as silly dreams. Caroline, she chided, you need to earn good money and make something of yourself.

So, she’d dutifully studied and taken a finance job straight out of college. To say she was disappointed about how her life turned out was an understatement. Then one day, 365 days earlier, Caroline awoke from a vivid dream and suddenly craved a new life and direction. This time no one would stand in her way. 

Standing here on stage in front of the heaving crowd, she is living her dream. After recently signing a record deal, she will be touring nationally next year. But as much as she loves her new life there always seems to be something or someone missing.  Caroline just isn’t sure what or who that is.

The bar is dimly lit while she performs but she can make out an intense pair of blue eyes from the bar watching her every move. He is handsome, that much is obvious, with deep, crimson lips and blonde hair. A white Henley fitting tightly across his chest, paired with dark, denim jeans. Neither item of clothing doing anything to hide his toned physique.

He seems oddly familiar but she can’t quite place him.

Keep reading

lielow-at-lupins  asked:

Hey, whenever you have the time could you write something about Remus coming to visit Sirius in Azkaban? Like Sirius trying to get Remus to hear him out and Remus just being all cold and distant and both of them heartbroken? I saw something upthehill drew and it made me want to read about it. Idk if you write Wolfstar but you're probably my fav writer on here so I immediately thought of you. Also sorry for the pain.

Thank you so much, I’m so honored that you’d ask me to write this! @upthehillart is my absolute favorite Harry Potter artist. This piece, as well as all of her other work, is absolutely amazing, so I highly suggest that everyone checks her blog out and gives her a follow if you haven’t already! 

Warnings: angst, mentions of depression, might break your heart a little, IM SORRY


It had been a year. A whole year since Sirius had been sent to Azkaban. An entire year since every single friend had been lost. 12 horrible months of being alone. 52 miserable weeks of harrowing depression. 365 dreadful days of being unable to believe that it had happened, how it had happened.

That went for both of them. Neither of them felt these things more than the other, but that’s how they had always been, sharing each other’s pain rather than one of them being forced to take and bear it all. But this time, even sharing it, the pain was still unbearable.

Sirius knew something Remus didn’t, though. He knew that he was innocent. He knew that he didn’t belong in a prison cell, having the happiness sucked out of him. He knew that it was Peter that belonged there. That Peter, who was responsible for James and Lily’s death, the deaths of 12 innocent muggles, and for Sirius living in this hell, was still out there, free. And the fact that Remus didn’t know the truth, that he thought Sirius deserved this, destroyed Sirius more than a cold cell with soul-sucking dementors ever could.

As well as it being a year of misery and depression, it had also been a year since they had seen each other. Remus hadn’t gone to see Sirius. He couldn’t. He couldn’t put himself through that. It would be too much. Sirius sat in his cell everyday, waiting. He was sure his Moony would come, would demand an explanation. He needed him to come, he had to tell him the truth. He had to have Remus back on his side again. He had to make sure he and Harry and everyone else, muggle and wizard, were safe from their rat of a friend. But Remus never came. Sirius waited and hoped. For the first few months, he was always positive that would be the day Remus would show up, but as the days continued, Sirius knew he wasn’t coming, so he stopped waiting. Stopped hoping. Or at least stopped consciously hoping, because in the back of the head he was always hoping and wishing to see Remus.

But on that anniversary, although Remus hated to think of it as that, as he normally considered anniversaries to be happy events, he decided that he had to go. He had been putting it off for a year, and now it had to be done. He wasn’t sure how to go about it, if something had to be scheduled or if he could just show up. He opted for the latter because he decided he wouldn’t be all that upset if he found out he was forced to leave and set up a later visit. There was also the fact that he didn’t even know how he would set it up. Were there even people who worked at the prison, or was it just dementors? He figured that he’d soon find out.

Upon arriving, he saw that there were, in fact, people who worked there. Before you enter the area with the inmates and the dementors, there was a type of office, waiting room area. He talked to the surprisingly nice lady at the desk about visiting, and she said it was fine to visit Sirius today. She then led him to a different room, specific for visits, with two doors, a window where Remus could see into another part of the building, a table, and chairs. Remus didn’t sit. He felt it would be best to keep the visit brief, and sitting only implied longevity of conversations.

The woman then went to get Sirius, saying it would only be a few minutes. Remus was nervous. He could feel his heart beating in his chest and the sweat on his hands. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but when he caught a glimpse of Sirius through the window, he was shocked at what he saw.

Sirius, who had always been lively and happy, was almost unrecognizable. His clothes, which always used to be up to the latest fashion, had been replaced with a striped jump-suit. His hair, that he had always took such good care of, was a right mess. His eyes, which used to shine so bright, were now sunken in and looked as if he was in a daze. His previous muscular build was nowhere to be seen, now just skin and bones.

Remus felt his heart break at the sight. He immediately felt sympathy for his friend. But then he quickly scolded himself for his thoughts. He couldn’t allow Sirius to do this to him. Sirius is the reason his friends are dead. He couldn’t feel bad. He couldn’t allow Sirius to work his charm, if it was still there, and somehow get Remus back on his side. He wouldn’t let it happen. He was there to get a year’s worth of hurt and anger out. He would yell and scream until he was blue in the face if that’s what it took.

Sirius seemed to not notice Remus when he walked past the window. Or maybe he was just unable to see him, Remus suspected the window was one-way glass.

But when Sirius was led through the door opposite the one Remus came through, his look of confusion at where he was being taken and why, was quickly replaced with his eyes lighting up and a smile gracing his somehow still handsome face the second he laid eyes on Remus.

“Moony!” Sirius gasped enthusiastically.

Remus fought to keep a straight face. He wanted nothing more than to take his former best friend into his arms, hug him, be able to take him away from this place. But he knew he couldn’t, knew he shouldn’t. He knew Sirius deserved this for what he did. He wished that every bit of evidence didn’t point to Sirius. But as much as it killed Remus, it did, and he just had to remember that to get through this visit.

“Black,” he responded with a curt nod.

That one word made Sirius look as if his whole world had been shattered. Clearly he had been expecting a just as enthusiastic “Padfoot!”, or a “Hey Pads”, or at the very least, a simple “Hello Sirius”. Remus knew he was hurting him, and he hated doing it. He wanted to reach out to him. He crossed his arms over his chest to prevent himself from doing so.

Sirius opened and closed his mouth several times, unsure of what to say. Remus just stared at him with a blank expression.

“Would you like to sit down?” Sirius gestured to the table and chairs.

“No,” Remus said harshly.

“Moony-”

“I’d appreciate it if you just called me Remus.”

Remus knew he was only hurting both Sirius and himself more, but he couldn’t bear hearing Sirius call him Moony. It would be too much. He knew he would crack it he did.

Sirius gave him an attempt at a cold stare, but he was never good at hiding how he really felt. Remus could see the heartbreak in those grey eyes.

“W-Why are you here?”

Remus took a deep breath. This is what he had been preparing for.

“You…” Remus trailed off into mumbles and stutters, unsure of how to begin.

Sirius’s lips twitched up into a small smirk in reaction to Remus’s lack of composure. For some reason, that look, a little piece of the old Sirius, set Remus off.

“You want to know why I’m here? I’m bloody here because it’s you’re fault they’re dead. James, Lily, Peter, all dead because of you! And then you were rightfully put it in here. So that just left me. Alone. Forced to sit with my thoughts of three best friends dead and one in Azkaban who betrayed them. Why couldn’t you just finish me off along with them? Why did I have to be the one to have to deal with this? As if I don’t suffer enough! God, how could you do that to me, to them?! We all trusted you! We were best friends! And you do…this. You disgust me.”

Remus was shouting by the time he reached his last words. Fists and jaw clenched. Shaking with anger.

Sirius had tears in his eyes.

“Remus…it’s not like that, I swear.”

Not like that? Who are you trying to kid?!”

“That’s not how it happened! You don’t know the true story! Let me explain!”

“I don’t need you to explain! All the evidence left, and by that I mean one of Peter’s fingers, is enough explanation. You killed him. You as good as killed James and Lily. And I’ve been dead inside ever since, so I guess you could say you killed me too,” he spits out.

“Remus, no! You don’t understand! You have to listen to me!”

Sirius dropped to his knees in front of Remus.

“Funnily enough, you killing our friends and being thrown in prison kind of voids you of telling me what I have to do,” Remus says coldly.

Sirius reached up to grasp Remus’s sweater. He let him. He didn’t want to, but he needed the touch. He knew allowing it would just break them a little more, though.

Sirius clung to him as if his life depended on it.

“Please, Remus, I beg you, just hear me out…” he pleaded. His voice broke at the end.

Remus looked down at Sirius. He felt tears in his own eyes at the sight of the broken man in front of him. He couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t be here anymore.

Remus gently untangled Sirius’s fingers from material of his sweater and took a step back towards the door so they were no longer touching.

He shook his head sympathetically at the other man.

“There’s nothing more to hear, Sirius,” he said simply and turned to the door.

“Remus! Please!”

Remus hesitated for a second, but then walked out of the room without looking back.

“Remus…” he heard him cry quietly one last time before he reached the point where he could apparate home.

Remus went up to his bedroom the second his feet hit the ground in his house. He laid down, teary eyed, and mulled over what had happened. Had there really been anything to hear? Was there actually something Remus didn’t know that Sirius could have explained? Remus wanted to believe that there was, that Sirius was somehow innocent, but the reminder of Peter’s single finger kept him from doing so. The way Sirius cried his name, though, it was so genuine and it broke Remus into a million pieces. He wanted nothing more than to comfort his friend, tell him things were okay, take him home with him, cook him a warm meal, give him a bath, let him sleep in his bed. But he knew it couldn’t happen, that it would never happen. He accepted the fact that he would never be truly happy again, especially after today’s visit. He went in expecting it would make him feel better, only coming out to feel worse than he has in his entire life.

Sirius was left crumpled on the floor, a sobbing mess. He needed Remus to know. If he knew, then maybe he could get him out of here, they could find Peter, give him what he deserves, and they could finally be happy again. He hated living like this, but even more, he hated seeing how broken Remus was. The whole time that he had known him, he had done everything in his power to keep Remus happy, only to be the cause of his ultimate sadness. Sirius cried Remus’s name over and over again, but he never came back. He knew he wouldn’t. He knew he would probably never see him again. And if he did, it wouldn’t be for another whole, miserable year at the very least.

In the past year, I’ve made a few big steps. Some of them scary, some of them not, but all of them to kickstart my path to the life I know I’m supposed to be living. I’ve graduated college, I’ve taken a full time dream job, I’ve visited New York City with a girl I love, I’ve moved 956 miles away from my childhood home, and, perhaps the hardest decision: I’ve started taking testosterone.

It’s been exactly 1 year since I started taking testosterone cypionate. 365 days, 52 weeks, 12 months, and a lot of syringes and alcohol wipes later.

In this past year, I’ve learned so much. Not only from my last two semesters in college, but also from my amazing coworkers, many of whom are now beloved mentors or good friends; from my family, who have supported me endlessly through everything I’ve done; from my friends, some of whom have left me (for the better) and many of whom have chosen to stick by my side through all my anxieties and flaws; and from myself, as I’ve come into touch with my true passions, feelings, and place in life.

On the other hand, I’ve also faced a number of challenges thanks recent political events. I’ve been called a burden, a sin, a liar, a phase, a trend, a problem, a disruption, and so many other words, many of which were by the very people meant to lead our country and unite us. I’ve lost rights, I don’t have reliable healthcare, I can count my transgender role models on one hand, and I still don’t know which bathroom to use.

Recently, there have been numerous misunderstandings about the transgender community, but I hope to clarify at least some of them:

I am not a burden. I am not a sin. I am not a liar. I am not a phase. I am not a trend. I am not a problem. I am NOT a disruption.

I am me.

I am the same person I’ve always been. I post these specific pictures now, hoping to spread awareness to those who don’t understand: I haven’t changed because I’m on hormones, or because I go by different pronouns. I am still the same person now, at 22 years old, that I was then, at 4 years old.

I am a person whose strongest, longest-lived, wildest, most amazing passion in life is and has always been animals. I’ve held snakes and lizards, I’ve fed sloths and servals, I’ve trained donkeys and otters and squirrels. I am so incredibly honored to be living out the dream I’ve had since I was a kid, dressing up as Steve Irwin for Halloween and claiming I’d have my own zoo when I grew up.

I just HAPPEN to be transgender.

And of the hundreds of animals I’ve taken care of, of the different species, personalities, and backgrounds, not a single one has ever cared.

The natural world is so different and so complicated and so incredibly amazing. Every single day I learn something new about or from the animals I work with. And every single day I wonder why we can’t possibly embrace that diversity among our own species.

It is so, so hard sometimes, but I don’t want to believe this world is an inherently hateful place. If I’ve learned anything at all from my short career, it’s that nature is brutal and cruel, but it is also beautiful, wild, and so amazingly diverse. And so are we.

My name is Teddy, I’m 22 years old, I’m a zookeeper, and my pronouns are he/him.

Farewell, 2017.


We made it. 12 months, 52 weeks, 365 days, 8,760 hours.


Dear Universe,
I would like to thank you for all the fun things that you’ve given me for this wonderful year. 2017 has been a blast for me. Without my friends and family, 2017 would never be this exciting. My 2017 was also the year I explored new stuff. 2017 was fun, I’m very thankful for it because I finally survived all the hardships and unwanted sadness. What to expect from me on 2018? Probably a much stronger and a factual me. More on poems that are based on my dreams, stars and moon. There are also so many things that I’ve learned throughout this year. This year I learned about things that are out of the box, things that are out of my comfort zone. I guess, exploring new things by myself and with my friends was fun. 2017 was the year that I experienced a lot of angst in my journey on being a teen. My 2017 was the year I learned to be confident and speak out on what I think was reasonable and factual.


I expressed my year on my poems, escaping how cruel the world is but being balanced by great people like you. 2017 has a lot of hardships and challenges for me but finishing 2017 with my family being complete was the cherry on my cake. I would like to thank you for letting me realize how important my friends are. Through all the hardships and rough times, only the realest friends stayed with me.


I would like to keep learning the importance of love, friendship, passion and empathy. Help me become kinder, softer and more understanding than before. At the same time, please teach me the courage, strength and confidence that I need. Help me no to use others’ flaws to blame them with what they did. Assist me not to become too hard on myself when facing challenges or in any aspect of life. Teach me to become more patient with the people I hang with and to the people I’m always with. Allow me to use my skill to inspire, motivate and help other people help themselves to boost up their courage and strength on their journey to the new chapter of their life. Give me the courage that I need to always stand for what is right.


May I learn self-love and be consistent with it no matter how much I’m going through and no matter how much I spend my time trying to blame everything on me. Let me use all the strength and courage doing all the right things. Always remind me to push and set goals for me to improve and achieve the dreams I want to reach. Make me fall in love with the dream, even more with the process.


To the friends who’ll not welcome my 2018 with me, I hope you’re fine. I hope 2018 will be your year and less sadness for you, honey. You deserve friends that will stay beside you and will make you happy, you deserve friends that will let you feel you’re loved, deserved and enough. To the friends that will welcome the new year with me, I
hope we’ll start and finish 2018 together, healthy and undamaged. I hope that we’ll treasure more memories that will let us stay strong and together throughout the year. Let us hold on to what we believe, to what we think is right and true. To the people I don’t know yet but will be a part of my 2018 soon, I hope you’ll enjoy my company and spend 2018 with me joyfully. I wholeheartedly give thanks to the people who started and finished my 2017 with me. You’ll finally expect a new, fresh, and clean me.


I know I will stumble and fail, probably as much as how I had with 2017. Let me use my own failures and life lessons to improve and motivate me. I have no idea where my own path is taking me, but I, myself is sure that I am heading to a better place with all these lessons that I have. Help me have 100 percent faith in myself that I can do whatever it is that I wish and want to do. 2018 is my year of changing.


Cheers to us because we’re finished with another year and another chapter of our life. Let’s welcome the new chapter of our life full of happiness and contentment. Let’s welcome 2018 right now, shall we?


An old 2017 me, logging out.
A new 2018 me, signing in.

—  ( l. r. )
Rebirth - Optional Bias (Part 1/3)

Hello! This is probably going to be the most graphic scenario I have for now. Some is inspired by BTS’ I Need U (Original) MV

Characters: you x optional bias (ft. others who play a small role)

Genre: Angst

Rating: M (for violence)

Warnings: mentions of depression/suicide, violence, vulgar

Word count: 2,218

Backstory: you had been facing depression for a long time and finally hit a brick wall, but then, a miracle emerges into your dark life which you refuse to accept.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

________

365 days. 52 weeks. 12 months. All which exist in a single year.

But no time could be compared to the heartache that crept onto your shoulders as you dragged your lifeless body around, wondering what could have been.

It all began a few weeks after your final goodbye with the love of your life. During the time you knew him, your life was fine and well with a few mishaps here and there. But they were minor ones that didn’t damage your mentality whatsoever. And yet, ever since that day, your life was just struck with the wound of a broken heart.

~~

Keep reading

Conner Kent/Cassie Sandsmark

Recommended Issues Reading List

  • Young Justice (especially #4, 6, 55)
  • Wonder Woman vol.2 #153
  • Superboy #94
  • Wonder Girl #3
  • Teen Titans vol.3 (especially Annual #1, #5-6, 16, 18, #24-25, 54, 85, 87-88)
  • Infinite Crisis #6-7
  • 52 (week 2, 4, 11-12)
  • Legion of 3 Worlds #4-5
  • Adventures Comics #3, 7
  • Teen Titans v4 (especially #23)
  • Superboy nu52 #10

I havent been following Superboy or TT nu52 so I might have missed something, please let me know if I have :)

2

10.12.17 (49/52 weeks of productivity)
Starting to make Christmas cards 🎄✉️🎁
I got in to WAYO again for next year wooooo! And we’ve got our Christmas concert this week which will be fun 😄
Hope you’re all feeling suitably Christmassy and not too stressed 💕