what a shitty way of handling it all

13 Reasons Why Character Nastiness Levels

1. Hannah 3/10, She was hurting, but sadly pushed away the people that could have helped her.

2. Clay 2/10, Can act irrationally because of his emotions and will do/say dumb stuff, but ultimately has a good heart.

3. Tony 3/10, Extremely patient with lil ole Clay, does come off as a lil bit condescending, but means well. 

4. Jessica 5/10, She slapped Hannah and bam, friendship over, but she still kept an eye on her and was generally pleasant towards her.

5. Justin 7/10, LOOK, I’m not excusing what he did, but he DID ultimately realize he was wrong to keep the secret from Jess and cut off Bryce completely. Also, no kid deserves the home life he has.

6. Bryce 10000000000000/10, This lil fucker can rot in hell. He’s the one who started it all and HE NEEDS TO GO DOWN.

7. Alex 6/10, What he did probably didn’t seem like a big deal to him, but it enabled other guys to treat Hannah like an object, not a person. At least he had the decency to feel horrible about it. (also I hope he’s ok).

8. Zach 6/10, He was trying to be nice to Hannah, but she shot him down, and he did not take that well. Like Alex, at least he had the decency to feel bad and I’m glad we get to hear why he didn’t say anything.


10. Sheri 7/10, Honestly, the only reason it’s so high is because of poor Jeff. Otherwise, she did come clean and tried to make amends and was generally a kind person. I feel like Hannah just couldn’t handle keeping a secret that awful.

11. Courtney 9/10, What she did wasn’t the worst by far, but how she handled everything after was horrendous, just because she wasn’t comfortable in her own skin.

12. Ryan 9/10, Same as Courtney. His crime wasn’t that terrible, but I hate how he never felt bad about it AT ALL and just kept going around like he was so entitled.

13. Marcus 9/10 Same as the above two. These 3 were a series of shitty moments, but the way they handled the aftermath was just disgusting.

14. Skye 3/10, Not on the tapes or even associated with Hannah, but pretty prevalent in Clay’s life. She’s tough and rude, but luckily lets Clay in. Very happy they rekindled their friendship.


I’ve been a kpop fan for years and one thing that seems like a trend is the antiblackness and favoritism towards idols who participate in it. Like with jackson, people tore him to shreads (his responses was shitty tho) and now with kai (his grinch fingers in kokobop)alot of people excuse it. Like my guy mentioned he was going for a reggae look for this. There is no miscommunication there. Also the way it was handled was not fair at all. If your gonna be “woke” and call idols out on things it’s stupid to pick and choose who you go after.

with fans you defend antiblackness so much that it’s fucking disgusting. Alot of you act like Korea is full of ignorant people who don’t know what a computer is and how books work. Their not stupid. They can get educated. And there are black koreans.(http://taev.tumblr.com/post/163213829097/uhyall-know-theres-black-people-in-korea if you wanna read up)

you sit here and you hate and disregard black kpop fans feelings because in all honesty y'all just as ugly as the the idols who disrespects my culture. Maybe even worse.

I’m tired of y'all.
A Tale of Two Lovers

((This something of an experimental thing I wrote based on what I like to think Keith’s parents were like. First some background on the characters here.

Austin - Keith’s dad. An airforce verteran, who has since taken up astronomy. He lives in a one room house in the middle of the desert both as a way to focus on his work and also so he can get away from people. He’s good friends with Commander Iverson, who drops by every couple of years to make sure his old flying buddy hasn’t died and been left to rot. (his name is a pun on “Austin, TX” given his accent. I like to imagine he’s heard that joke plenty of times)

Kalthara - Keith’s mom. I got both her name and design from THIS POST by @blue-starr-in-the-sky-port . A member of the blade of Mamora who found herself stranded in an uncharted part of the universe after a wormhole accident left her crashed on planet earth. Austin was the first to come across her, but in her pain Kalthara struck out at him with her knife leaving a scar on his brow. She’s an experienced warrior who has been a member of the blades all her life. As a result she has known nothing but war for most of her life, and initially finds the naive peace of earth somewhat jarring. She doesnt seem to be able to get Austin’s name right, though this may be on purpose.

The two of them find themselves becoming unlikely friends as Kalthara sorts through her stranded wreck and avoids being caught by other humans, and Austin keeps her existence a secret out of a desire to protect his peaceful life. Overtime they develop feelings for each other, eventually consummating their love.

The following is the result))

continued under read more

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[Nurseydex] A Market for Lemons

Summary: Chris Chow knew all along. (Or, what to do when your friends are in love with each other: a two-year guide by Chowder.)

[Full Work on AO3]


At the start of spring semester, the freshmen of Samwell Men’s Hockey team were ordered to conduct a coordinated attack on the LAX bro house. Chris, Nursey, and Dex were assigned the actual break-in, while their luckier teammates did surveillance. When Dex asked if this was hazing, he was met with cryptic smiles and Lardo’s flat “This is the least of it, son.”

In the middle of a chilly winter afternoon, the three of them hid by an untrimmed bush in the LAX house backyard, among crushed beer cans and slimy-looking brown bags, until one member of the recon team texted to confirm the last LAX bro had exited the yard. They slid the kitchen window open slowly and dove in, Mission Impossible-style. Nursey located the mission object in the living room: the First Puck, a tough, scratched hockey puck said to have won the SMH’s first NCAA championship some thirty years back, but in the present decade was best suited to for breaking open clam shells or dashing open windshields. It sat in a cleared-out circle of empty vodka handles and red solo cups, atop an old cassette player like a crown upon its dais.

“All this effort for some old puck,” Dex said, as Nursey walked into the room. “I bet Shitty made all of it up.”

“Don’t be so cynical, Poindexter,” Nursey said, as he squatted down to inspect the thing. “Traditions like this are what makes a team a team.”

“I think it’s pretty cool,” Chris ventured.

“See? C thinks it’s chill,” Nursey said, tilting his head another way quizzically.

Dex grinned. “Chowder, you’re too impressed by everything Samwell-related.”

“That’s true too,” Nursey said, chuckling.

“Well, a lot of things about Samwell are cool!” Chris protested.

Dex laughed and looked ready to say more as Nursey reached for the puck. Then several things happened at once:

  1. Chris’s phone pinged with a text: lol oops sorry a lax bro is back are you guys still in there?
  2. The front door opened.
  3. Nursey plucked the puck off the table, and all around them, sirens wailed.

The LAX bro at the foyer, who had been texting on his phone, looked up.

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holy heck i can’t even describe how shitty i feel for being any part of what’s going on with comet. i know not everyone may agree with this or want to admit it, but the fandom is partially responsible for what’s going on. yes, how comet handled it was wrong in many ways, but the way the fandom, including myself, blew it up was not okay. or maybe it was idk. because i understand that it is still about race in that people didn’t want to a see poc actor, which is what brought sales down, making it ultimately come to this. either way, whatever happened, we drove mandy out. and yeah, what happened to oak is super shitty, but i think we would all rather have the show still running. if mandy had stayed, that could’ve done so much for the show. maybe, if the situation hadn’t been handled in a way that was hurtful to oak, he would’ve come back after mandy. mandy could’ve made the financial situation better, oak could’ve come back, and in that time they could’ve found a new pierre. this is all honestly so messy. 

tbh i’m just praying for all involved in the show and their careers. i’m so sad for dave as well. he, and everyone else involved, but this was his to begin with, created something incredible. it’s devastating that something so beautiful can’t sell on its own, and i can’t imagine how this makes dave feel. 

Guardians of the Galaxy: Family, Annoyance, Lost Patience

This is based off of lovely @amazingmsme and her three-word prompt :D I hope you like it and that it was everything you ever dreamed of!

Words: 2,145

It was anniversary week for Rocket Raccoon, his least favorite time of the year. And he knew what to expect in terms of feelings, nightmares, and quick tempers for the week. His crew, however, did not. 

Day 1 was capture day. Rocket remained reserved, confining himself primarily in his quarters for the day as Quill and the rest of the team piloted through space. 

There was one interruption coming from the big dense man himself, “Small furry angry creature, will you be eating with us tonight?”

Rocket’s ears twitched at the bluntness of Drax’s speech, and he replied with, “Nah, you go stuff your face. I ain’t hungry.”

“You haven’t eaten all day. And it is impossible to stuff a face, you can only fully stuff a mouth–”

“Alright, get outta here with your stupid factual bullshit!” Rocket tossed a spare bolt at Drax, the tiny object merely bouncing off the other’s muscular chest. 

Drax looked down at his chest and then back at Rocket, “I can see you are thoroughly upset. I will leave now,” and he backed out of Rocket’s space. The raccoon sighed and he shook out his head, getting back to mindless work trying to build something.

Day 2 was needle day. So many tests and needless cruelty to all of his animal senses. Today was Gamora’s turn to test his patience, apparently. 

“I said to fix it, Rocket,” Gamora ordered sternly, a patch of loose wires draped across the floor of the ship. 

Rocket growled, “Why don’t you fix it yourself? Do I have to do everything around here!?” 

“If I knew how, I would!” Gamora yelled right back at the smaller creature, narrowing her eyes at his behavior towards her. She turned around and stormed off without another word. Rocket, in a rage, tied all the wires back up into the wall and secured the loose panel they were supposed to be contained under. He didn’t have the energy to keep up being angry and stubborn about that issue. Plus, it kept him busy. 

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anonymous asked:

What is your feel on Akira's character, him being a silent protagonist and all?

If you don’t mind me combining my own personal interpretations as well, and excuse the fact that I’ve only just beat the second boss, then here are my thoughts. I will gladly change my interpretation if I find new facts/observations.

TL;DR: Akira grew up with parents who didn’t necessarily physically abused him, but deprived him of love and what proper parents should be, and most likely emotionally abused him. Thus, he goes out of his way to be a good person who genuinely cares about people and wants to prevent more people turning out like his parents or that of the shitty society that forced him into his current situation.

From his upbringing, he’s probably wanted to rebel against his parents all this time but didn’t get a chance to do it safely/freely until he becomes a Persona user. He’s a decent guy who actually gets shit done when he sets out to do it. He’s a scheming, courageous, bold guy no matter what situation he’s in. Akira’s also kind and charismatic enough to know how to handle people and would be an excellent boyfriend.

Also he’s bi AF, fight me ATLUS.

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No Surrender | Chapter Three

Cassian Andor/ Reader

Words: 1,982

Summary: All your pent up emotions come rolling out when you finally see Cassian at the medbay. You never expected him to remember what you said.

Tagging: @kwaiky, @ly–canthrope

Author’s notes: Thank you guys for being patient and kind to me. Finishing this chapter took me a few days because I would run into writer’s block then school clocks me in the damn jaw. I am sad to see No Surrender come to a close but it’s been a great ride. 


Chapter 3: Rise

A chill goes down your spine as you enter the medcenter. You were never fond of the place but they saved you in more ways than one. The idea that so many of your fellow rebels have wound up here…death is always around the corner.

Your heart beats a little faster when K-2 stops at a closed door.

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anonymous asked:

I come ask for "81." We're in the middle of the thunderstorm and you want to stop and feel the rain? "I love your writing.

I don’t know what to fucking do with you guys, thank you so much for your kudos and I am so afraid of letting you guys down with such shitty writing… this prompt had so much potential and I feel like I didn’t live up to it. But it’s still so fun to write! Please enjoy ♥

Uraraka had left her umbrella at her dorms.


And she was in front of the magnus opus of all thunderstorms. Again.

It wasn’t her fault, in all honesty. After class had finished, she had rushed to the dorms, gotten all books she could handle and sprinted all the way to the library. When she had done this almighty marathon, sun was still glaring down on her and heat was searing on the streets, people dehydratated and seeking for the sea to drink from– which was a true paradox in itself, but that was a whole other story.

But then, just as she was going downstairs, the annoying face of the man from the weathercast flashed right before her eyes, and grimaced at the tragic hurry of hers to get things done instead of thinking her steps through. Once she was in the face of thunder and downpour, her face was all but glee and smiles.

People rushed in front of her to catch a taxi, some of them scurried away underneath their umbrellas while mumbling about an incoming fierce weather– which Uraraka didn’t enjoy much because, you know it was dangerous and she was a bit frail against the incoming winds. So, instead of doing what normal people were doing, instead of calling someone to pick her up or just make a run for it, she waited.

She stood in front of the library entrance, fifteen minutes away from Yuuei but a lifetime apart from her dorms and it dawned on her that without an umbrella, she would most probably make it home drenched.

But staying wasn’t an option either, so while weighing the ups and downs of her decision, a familiar mate of hers, one she wasn’t expecting to find, came to view.

“Yo, Uraraka.”

Deep in thought, Uraraka only registered the deep voice – which sounded more like a groan in her mind, as he was constantly annoyed at every living breathing creature around him. She slowly lifted her eyes to him: black sweater and hoodie on, his big trousers, sneakers, backpack and the most unbelieving grimace she had ever seen him wear. She at least hoped it would match with his whole demeanor that day too, as she had no time or temper to deal with his tantrums and the like.

She waved at him meekly, suddenly feeling tiny seeing how he was mildly covered from the rain and she was standing there, thin white clothes on and wary for the rain. “Good evening, Bakugou. Such fantastic weather we are–”

“You have no fucking umbrella.” stated he, trying to shame her, probably? but the effect was pretty much the opposite, as he sounded annoyed at her lack of prevision. “And there is a thunderstorm coming through.”

She started messing with her hair, that silly effect he was starting to have on her lately and she absolutely despised him for making her so flustered with battling his scarlet eyes. “Tell me about it. You at least can protect your hair from the downpour. All I have is my books.”

He stared at her from head to toe, making her feel a bit uncomfortable. Bakugou had always been one to act bluntly and shamelessly, but the fact that he was blatantly checking her out was making her heart do all kinds of twists. “Your clothing is a bit too damn white.” spat he, squinting at her. “You could have at least have brought some clothes that wouldn’t let the fucking public see your underwear.”

Yes, blunt fucking much. “W-What–” he started fondling with his sweater. “what is even that about?”

Whatever insults she had to throw at his perverted side were thrown off the window when he handed her his sweater. “Stop bitching about it and let’s get going. I’m not gonna be responsible for a breeze sweeping you off your feet.”

Blinking an alarming amount of times, she ended up accepting the piece of clothing and put it on while he started walking away, expecting her to catch up. Uraraka stumbled her way to him with an awkward smile, trailing behind him. “Thanks for the sweater!”

“Don’t mention this to anybody or you’re dead meat, Uraraka.”

She giggled and marched by his side for a few seconds in silence, the pitter patter of the rain and rolling thunder above them looming over them as a chaotic blanket of fear and noise, making her jump in surprise sometimes and Bakugou glare her for being too damn sensitive.

There was a moment when he turned around to glare at her and a ugly scar marring his jaw caught her eye, imprinting itself on her bland mind and making all kinds of feelings spark within her. No matter how far he was fom her– which wasn’t much actually, because he liked her proximity and being a guard to her felt kind of nice, the image of that scar being marked on his perly skin didn’t bode well with her.

She tried to keep the thought in until the image started blinking too much. “Where did you get that scar?”

Bakugou’s brow wrinkled and he looked at her with angry questioning, all kinds of mixed feelings stirring in his eyes as he looked at the little girl wearing his soaked sweater. “What scar?”

“The one…” she traced the shape of her round jaw. “on your jaw.”

He looked onward again and his shoulders tensed a little, but he still remained elegant as she knew him regardless. The answer came out as stale and low, the name he murmured somehow intriguing and suggesting that the reason behind his jaw still haunted his nightmares.


“… Oh.”

Of course, she had heard of this battle. The showdown had been traumatizing, and that was a petty adjective compared to the monstrosity that the fight had been for all heroes. She hadn’t been present during the final battle against the pinnacle of evil, mostly because she had been out of comission once Toga got her bloody hands on her– thank goodness Bakugou had been there to beat that little bitch to the ground before anything else happened. 

Now that she remembered, they had been so busy with class that she hadn’t found the time to thank him.

“I owe you a big thanks, you know.” he halted his steps when he felt that she wasn’t by his side anymore. “Toga would have done horrible things to my body if she had–”

A shadow passed before his eyes and then, his hand covered her mouth. It was now when Uraraka realized that his hair was completely weighed down by the water and that his eyes were terrifyingly dark when spikes covered those crimsom irises. “Shut it.”

She blinked at him, feeling him slightly tremble. Something was going on under that mask of bravery and rudeness. “S’alright, I’m not a douche.”

She giggled, but didn’t run to him again. Her hands grasped the hem of the sweat, his sweaty scent overwhelming her senses as she looked at her feet, another habit of hers that she carried from her childhood to the very same moment. Rain fell hard around her, and Uraraka could hear his steps against the puddles fading away, walking away from her.

Somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to care. All she could think of now was how she had forgotten about the blonde devil in the midst of the flying exams, the ticking clocks, and how he hadn’t probably been cherished enough after his brave stand against Overhaul because he was considered to be strong enough to shoulder the pain– apparently, everyone thought he was a big boy who could withstand all injuries.

But he wasn’t. Bakugou wasn’t as old or strong as people deemed him to be. No one had thanked him. No one thought they needed to.

Meanwhile, she had almost died while doing not even half as he did, given up halfway– and she had been called a hero for defeating a minor foe. Bakugou had a scar on his jaw, what did she have? And here he was, standing in the rain, uncovered for her, again taking the dirty job.

She hated this.

“Oi,” his voice called her from a few meters away, his shirt drenched– his muscles were tight from beneath the wet fabric, which cloaked him lika a second skin. He had never looked so beautiful to her. “ we are in the middle of a thunderstorm, you planning on stand–”

His breath hitched mid-way as she removed the hoodie from her protected head. “You are alive, Bakugou.”

Bakugou’s eyebrows sunk deep in focus, waiting for what shit she’d come up with. His eyes drunk from her petite form while taking a step closer to her, then stopping and staring again. His red embers were thriving in the rain as he remembered what hell it had been to see Uraraka so beaten up, so close to death– and he wondered if that exact feeling had been what she was musing over, if that feeling was cluthing her heart so tightly like it did to his.

But the rain never stopped, only clothered her more. “I am so glad…!”


“Don’t you realize?” asked she to the air, looking up to the sky. “We are breathing, we are here.”

Yes, he was more aware than ever now. After the hurricane of the final fight, after tending for his wounds and fighting his nightmares for long weeks, no feeling of peace had dawned on him like this moment did. She was shaking, a tight smile sketched on her frail skin, all of her soaked to the bone– but fuck, she was alive.

He hadn’t considered until now that he had saved her, she was alive, he was alive– them both had a future now. Only now did it feel like their torment was over. And suddenly, he couldn’t find his words anymore, and the rain above them could fall as hard as it wanted to, his heart would never stop throbbing inside his chest.

And suddenly, in the middle of the worst of rains and as thunder hovered dangerously near them, he stepped forward and she threw herself to his arms, hugging him tight to her. “I don’t mind the rain, Bakugou.” Uraraka slightly pulled away and looked up to the sky again. Meanwhile, Bakugou watched the raindrops clattering on her pearly skin. 

He cleared his throat, suffocating in crashing relief, voice thick with emotion as he spoke. “We can enjoy it… we are alive now.”

It dawned on him now. They could dance under the thunderstorm, waltz slowly to the howling wind and laugh to incoming hurricanes– she was alive, in his arms now, and everything felt much sharper when she was by his side. Life felt sharper when she was in his arms. 

So he hugged her, feeling choked up while rain weighed them down to the ground, thunder striking the ground streets away– but how could he care when she was in his arms and life seemed so bright when her words lingered in the air? “I fucking hate you for making me so sentitive, you damn minx.”

That was Bakugou language for: thank you for being alive, for hanging on and being so damn pestering. The words echoed and bounced in his throat, but reflected in her eyes as she obviously caught the meaningful look he was giving her as he caressed her hair– god almighty, wasn’t this woman a weakness of his.

“Thank you for surviving, Bakugou.”

And when she pulled away and grinned at him, finally at peace with him, his brain went into meltdown. His heart soared and floated away, and made him wonder about why he had been using his hands to blow things away with his quirk, when he could use them to caress her, adore her, worship her. Air was knocked out of his lungs, and this destructive man was rendered useless and reduced to putty in her hands.

He didn’t wanna destroy anymore– he would treasure her. 

And in the middle of the storm, the eye of the hurricane, the loop of a tsunami or the roll of an earthquake– he would swear on his life he would devote his life to thank her for showing him what life really meant.

“Yeah.” he hugged her close to his chest again, his stale voice hiding the emotional turmoil going on inside his heart. “And thank you, Uraraka.”

For existing, for surviving, for smiling and laughing– he gave his everything to her under a thunderstorm, no sound hearable other than their hearts beating to the same harmony.

If I Could Tell Her (If Connor Lived And Evan Died)

I bet he’d talk about you a lot.

He would? Evan? Really?

Yeah, of course!

Like what?

He’d say there’s nothing like your smile, sorta subtle and snarky and real. He’d say you never know how wonderful that smile could make him really feel. He’d say whenever you get bored you balance your glasses on the tips of your pens. And he’d notice that you still haven’t bothered to fix that one broken lense.

Probably he kept it all inside his head, what he saw he left unsaid. Though he wanted to, he couldn’t talk to you, he couldn’t find a way, but I bet he’d say;

If I could tell him, tell him everything I see. If I could tell him, how much he means to me, but you were a million worlds apart, and I don’t know how I could even start. If I could tell him, if I could tell him!

Would he say anything else?

About you?

About anything.

Well he’d say you looked really shitty–it’s true, you look pretty shitty with tear stained eyes and messy hair! And he’d wonder how you managed to handle without him right there.

But he probably he kept it all inside his head, what he saw he left unsaid. Though he wanted to, he couldn’t talk to you, he couldn’t find a way, but I bet he’d say;

If I could tell him, tell him everything I see. If I could tell him, how much he means to me, 

But we were a million worlds apart, and I don’t know how I could even start. If I could tell him, if I could tell him!

But what do I do when there’s this great sense of pride, I pushed him far away! But what did I do when he needed my side, I didn’t do anything, so how can I say?

I miss you! I miss you! I miss you!

But… We’re now million worlds apart, so now I can’t even start.

I can’t tell him, I can’t tell him!

like-rain-and-phones  asked:

To bounce off that other ask - Do you think Santana ever thought Dani and herself would be “endgame”? Did Brittany ever think Dani and Santana were endgame? Was she worried the way Santana was about not ending up together?

Hey, @like-rain-and-phones!

So the short answers to your questions are:

  1. Nope.
  2. Nope.
  3. Nope.

Much longer answers are under the cut.

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9 toxic behaviours that will affect your life

1) Gossiping.

We all do it. Some of us more than others. We talk about the girl next door or the new guy that just started working here. We talk about how the Brown’s just split up and “Did you hear why they separated?” Did you know that when we talk about people it shows an insecurity or jealousy in us? Boom. Where are you lacking in your life that you feel the need to cut down someone else’s life? Have a think about that for a moment.


There’s no point or purpose to this. Who are you lying to and why? It doesn’t even make any sense to do this and I still don’t understand why so many people still lie. You think the truth hurts, check out a lie. Nothing hurts more than that.

3) Worrying about things that haven’t happened yet.

Let me repeat that if I may. Things that haven’t happened yet. Why would you waste your time and energy worrying about something that hasn’t even happened? I know a lot of us play out a situation in our head and our first instinct is to be play it out with a bad ending. Why do we do that? I’ve done this one myself once or twice. Worry is a natural emotion/feeling. It’s up to you to control it and stop it in its tracks before it spirals out of control. That’s when the stress kicks in and our blood pressure rises. No need for all this now, is there?

4) Holding a grudge.

There’s an old saying “holding a grudge is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die”. Think about that for a sec. The poison you are drinking is the grudge. You are swallowing every drop and you are mad and pissed off to a point of no return. Expecting the other person to die? Honestly they could care less what you think. Hell they probably aren’t even thinking about you anyway. So why on earth are you wasting your time and energy grudging on someone? Go pick some flowers and bring them to a nursing home. Really. Spend time doing happy things. Not brewing and stewing over silly things.

5) Jealousy.

The girls in the magazine are beautiful. Sally has a beautiful body. Jimmy has a nice car. The Whites just bought a brand new house. With every turn, someone somewhere has something better or nicer than we do. Our first reaction is jealousy. There is no need to be jealous really. We all have something special, unique and beautiful inside of us. We also all have something that someone else wishes they had. Just be grateful for who you are and what you have. You are perfect and blessed exactly the way you are. Embrace it.

6) You’ve already lived the past.

Oh how we love to hang on to what happened 5, 10 or even 25 years ago. We still go on and on about it to whoever will listen. Why shouldn’t we? Who we are today is because of what happened to us yesterday. Well, yes, you’re right. Sort of. Who we are today is the result of the way we chose to handle the past. We didn’t all have silver spoons in our mouths. Some of us were dealt really shitty hands. It is what it is. Be done with it. No one wants to hear it, really. Just tell us something happy and joyful. That’s all we want to hear now.

7) I don’t love me.

Watch how you talk to yourself. You are listening. Make sure your self-talk is loving, kind, compassionate, gentle, caring and supportive. Talking bad about yourself to yourself is probably the worst thing you can do. Treat yourself in a totally loving and positive manner. When you do this, you will be able to see how awesome you are and how much more awesome you will become.

8) Woe is me.

Always the victim never the victor. Sad things keep happening to you and you can’t wait to tell the next person you see. The more you talk about it, the more depressed you get and the more terrible things keep happening to you. You think your life is bad? Go hang out in a city where they just had a devastating earthquake or tsunami. Stop whining. We’re getting sick of listening to it and there will come a point where no one will want to be around you. How lonely will that be?

9) Negative Nancy.

We are really truly sad for you and wish, just once, you could see something in a positive light. Not everything is bad. Honest. Try to find the good in things and when you do you will see that more good things will show up in your life. It’s a universal law. It has to be. You are sucking the life out of us and we don’t want to hang around you anymore.

This list covers many things that we all do almost on a daily basis. Next time you catch yourself doing any of these, stop it. Immediately. Turn it around and tell yourself that your soul is beautiful and deserves only loving, kind and caring thoughts. Once you get into this habit, in no time you will see that these behaviours will become a thing of the past and your soul will illuminate beauty.

From Simple Reminders

anonymous asked:

I still don't understand how/why magnus goes from heartbroken in 2x19 to extremely pissed i-wont-look-at-you, i-dont-know-your-name kind of anger. Coldness i could have understood, but this anger? Him not moving a finger to help find Maia? It was so occ

That’s because, I assume, you’ve never undergone a deeply traumatic experience. Which I sincerely hope you never do.

But Magnus did. Lets’ recap, shall we?

In Season 2B alone, Magnus has been, in chronological order, defiled, tortured, discredited, forced to revisit his worst memories every time he closed his eyes, humiliated, and lied to. That, nonny, very much constitutes trauma.

This alone should be enough to explain why Magnus was acting the way he was, but under the cut there is a more detailed explanation, in case you want more.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Exactly as you said it he should take his time and cancellation is not what really bothers me: it's sloppy way how everything is handled- it takes away somehow from his sincerity about the music - it's all very confusing for an average fan. Imo the best would be now maybe as a part of versus campaign to clear the air and explain where he is and what are the plans.

yeah, i can understand that he’s obviously busy with his versus obligations and finishing his album, but i find it hard to believe that his team didn’t see these scheduling conflicts coming and ultimately i just think it’s pretty shitty to the japanese fans to have cancelled the performances so close to their dates twice now.

i think we’ve all been in agreement that laying low and doing his thing has been the best move for him these past weeks but idk, i think in a moment like this it would be nice if he actually reached out those fans and made a personal statement bc iirc they had a lot of cute fan projects going on for their concerts. that’s just me tho ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

anonymous asked:

What do you think of jmo leaving ouat?

I think it’s about time. I’m not sad to see her go, or sad to see the show go. The show is over as far as I’m concerned. No one, not the show, the actors, the fans, no one can take swan queen and swen away from me/us. But it has been shitty the way they’ve all handled SQ/Swen so it’s time. I hope they cancel the rest of the show as well and Lana gets to move on too.

EDIT: also I’d really just like to say that they really fucked her and her character over so I don’t blame her for walking away when she had the chance. I would have, too. She seems to be more into directing and doing her own thing. And with OUAT, her taking liberties in Emma’s wardrobe and I do believe she had some say in Emma’s complete 180 in character, maybe directing is where she needs to be.

Title: You Don’t Know What It Feels Like 

Words: 2,531

A/N: This is a random one shot that I have been working on for the last few days. I want to thank @lucidjr for being an amazing editor and friend and helping me with it! If you guys like it, let me know… I might write a second part. Thanks for being awesome! Love you Guys! 


You paced in the library, trying to calm yourself amongst the mountain of books that had accumulated on the tables. You had noticed Dean’s absence 5 hours ago. You were excited to show him a book you had found on reapers, but when you went to find him you were presented with empty rooms. The thought of him out there by himself worried you beyond belief. Since The Darkness was unleashed a few months prior, the supernatural world had grown eerily quiet. Sure, there were the garden-variety salt and burns every now and again, but other than that it was just static. While the silence would normally bring a comfort, it did nothing but bring you a sense of dread. You knew that it was only a matter of time before something happened. It was the calm before the storm, and Dean was missing.

“Anything?” You jumped at the sound of Sam’s voice behind you. You were so enticed with your thoughts that you hadn’t noticed him approaching. When you noticed Dean was gone, Sam was the first one you sought out. But your anxiety increased the very moment Sam told you he had no idea where Dean had gone.

“No. Nothing.” You replied, defeated. You shook your head and ran your fingers through your hair, a habit that you picked up when you were young that you always did when you were stressed. Sam gave you a sad smile and walked toward you. You let him wrap his arms around you in a comforting hug.

“It’s okay (Y/N), Dean will be back soon.”

“You don’t know that Sam.” You buried your face further into his chest. “He could be hurt….”

“(Y/N)” he interrupted, “You have to calm down. Dean is an experienced hunter. He knows what he is doing. If he was in trouble, he would find a way to get ahold of us.”

You pulled back and playfully punched Sam’s shoulder. He laughed at your actions and returned the favor. You don’t know what you would do without him. Over the last few months, Sam had become your best friend. Sure you were close with Dean, but things were different with Sam. When he had figured out that you were in love with his older brother, he was there for you. He encouraged you to make a move, even when you told him that he was crazy and nothing would ever happen. He was the best friend that you ever had.

The slight laughter came to a stop when the bunker door swung open. Dean stood on top of the stairs, looking down on you and Sam. His clothes were covered in dirt and what looked like blood. A few cuts were present on his face and he walked with a limp as he began to descend the stairs.

You ran to meet him at the bottom, instantly putting his face in your hands. “Dean! Oh my God!” You pulled him close to you but instantly released him when he let out a groan. Looking down, you saw a good amount of blood flowing from a gash on his right arm. You reached out for it, helping him out of his jacket so you could further inspect his injuries. “What happened?! How did you…”

“It’s nothing! I’m fine,…” He started.

“Dean this is going to need stitches. It’s not fine!” you countered. His cut was long and deep, which explained the loss of blood.

“(Y/N), just….” He tried to pull away from you, but you tightened the grip on his shoulder.

“Dean Winchester. You will sit in this chair and you will tell me exactly what the hell is going on. NOW!” His eyes grew wide as he stared at you in shock. You rarely let your temper get ahold of you, and when you did, the boys knew that you meant business.

“I’ll.. uh.. Go get the kit.” Sam left the library to retrieve the medical kit that you kept in the kitchen.

Dean lowered himself down in the closest chair and you began helping him with his shirt.

“Where were you?” You asked, trying to keep the rage from spilling out.

Sam returned with the kit and placed it on the table next to you.

“Caught a case. A simple open and close, no big deal.” He winced as you doused the cut in antibacterial solution.

“If it was no big deal then how did this happen?” you quipped, pushing the gauze into the cut.

He pulled back instinctively and grabbed his arm in pain. “What the hell was that for!”You simply shook your head and reached out and pulled his arm toward you, with some hesitation on Dean’s part. “You didn’t answer my question!”

He sighed. “Look I caught wind of a group of vampires a few hours away. I thought I would go down there and check it out.”

“Without backup?!” You finished tying off the stitches and placed a bandage on top.

“Yeah. It was no big..”

“So help me, if you say ‘no big deal’ I will smack you so hard you won’t see straight for a week.”

“It was fine until their bloodsucking friends showed up.”

“How many?”

“Eight. Not including the four I killed before they got there.”

You slammed the medical supplies back into the box and slammed the lid closed. You stood up quickly and began to leave the room. A strong hand grabbed yours and turned you around. “Let go of me, Dean.” You pulled out of his grasp forcefully.

“I don’t get it! Why are you so upset? It’s fine!”

“NO!” You took a giant step, and stood in front of him, fuming. “It’s not ‘fine’. You got lucky. You could have been killed!” you took a deep breath. “You didn’t leave a note, you didn’t answer your cell… What the hell were we supposed to do if you didn’t’ come home?”

“(Y/N)” Sam stepped forward from where he had been watching silently. “Look, it’s been a long day, maybe we should talk about this tomorrow.” The look on your face told him that the conversation was far from over, but he was right. If you didn’t walk away now, you would regret it later on. You nodded a good night to Sam and turned your back to Dean, walking out of the room.

“Really nice Dean. Really nice.” Sam said, sitting next to his brother.

“What, you too? Sammy, you of all people should know how stir crazy I get if I can’t be out killing something.”

Sam sighed and rubbed his face with the palms of his hands. “It’s not that you idiot.”

Dean raised an eyebrow at Sam. “What are you talking about?”

“Dean, I know that you needed to get out, but the way you did it was really shitty. We had no clue where you were. (Y/N) was worried sick about you the entire time. With The Darkness free, we don’t know what to expect. You should have left a note.. text.. anything.”

“Well, I don’t get why she is so worried anyway!” Dean rose from his seat and kicked his chair. “She’s seen me hunt, she knows I can handle myself.”

“That doesn’t make any difference to her Dean. The person that she loves most in this world was missing, dead for all she knew. I can understand why she was so upset.”

Dean seemed to ponder that for a moment. He suddenly froze when the gravity of what Sam had said, kicked in. “Wait…. Love? She loves me?”

Sam let out a small laugh. “If you haven’t figured it out by now, you’re a bigger idiot than I thought.”

“(Y/N)? Our (Y/N)….. My (Y/N)…” Dean trailed off as he thought about the idea of you loving him. Sure, he knew that he had been in love with you for a long time, but he never imagined that one day you might feel the same. He realized it 4 months ago, when you were sitting together watching an old sci-fi movie. You were shoving popcorn into your mouth, and your hair was in a messy bun. You were wearing an old t-shirt of Dean’s that he had let you borrow on a hunt. The two of you had a silent agreement that it was your shirt now, and he was never getting it back. He was oddly okay with that.

He had never seen anyone so beautiful in his entire life. Since that moment, he had been nervous, walking around on pins and needles around you. But now… “She loves me.” A large grin covered Dean’s face.

“Yeah Dean. She loves you, and you ARE the biggest idiot for not figuring it out sooner! Y’all should have been together months ago.”

The grin was lost, and replaced with a scowl. “Shut up Sammy.” Dean fiddled with the hem of his shirt. Sam could see that his brother was nervous. “What do I do now?”

Sam laughed. “Dean, since when do you have trouble talking to women? You’re the definition of a player.”

“Well it’s different! It’s (Y/N)! I can’t screw this up…”

Sam grabbed his brothers shoulders and gave him a shake. “Dean, calm down. Look, she loves you, more than you probably know. Just apologize.”

Dean nodded his head, and moved toward the door. “Wish me luck.”

Your body bounced back slightly as the bullet left the gun in your hand. You took a deep breath and released the empty clip. Without hesitating you loaded another into the gun and began shooting off another round. It was common knowledge between the three of you that when you were upset, you needed to blow off steam, and more often than not, that meant shooting off a few rounds in the shooting range. You had made it through five so far, and there was no end in sight. You smiled when the last bullet followed the others into the middle of the bull’s eye… a kill shot.

“It’s good. But I’ve seen better.” The unexpected sound startled you and you turned around quickly, gun ready. On any other occasion the look on Dean’s face would have made you laugh,  but this time it angered you. You lowered the gun and turned around, starting to load another clip.

“You should know better than to sneak up behind me.”

“Yeah,” Dean sighed, “I just thought that maybe we should talk.”

“Talk?” you emptied another clip into the target. “Like we talked before you went to hunt a vamp nest on your own and disappeared for a few hours!?” You huffed and placed the gun on the counter and began to walk towards the door. You were not in the mood to talk to him.

A hand grabbing your arm forced you to turn around and face Dean. His face was screwed together in pain. His eyes searched yours and in an instant, your resolved softened. You closed your eyes and let out a long deep breath to calm yourself. You were still shook up from your earlier confrontation and the last thing you wanted was for him to see you cry. When you opened your eyes again he was still standing in front of you, only now he had distanced himself a bit.

“I just…” He brought up his hand to scratch the back of his neck. He was nervous, you just didn’t understand why. “I wanted to make sure that we were okay.” His arms dropped to his sides and he stood there like a teenage boy asking a girl to prom, silent and timid.

“Okay? You wanted to make sure we were okay?” He gave you a small smile in response. “Look Dean, I’m not mad that you went to blow off steam. I completely understand that feeling. What made me upset was that you didn’t let anyone know where you went. You didn’t take backup and you didn’t answer your phone. What were we supposed to think? These last few months, with the mark being gone and The Darkness released… I thought maybe that you had gone off the deep end that you went off and got yourself killed by some hillbilly monster. You have no idea what that would have done to me.”  You were caught off by the sobs that escaped your body.

Dean stepped forward and put his hands on both sides of your face and used his thumbs to wipe tears from your face. He pulled you into him, keeping a hand on the back of your head while the other began rubbing small patterns on your back. The two of you stood like that, with Dean’s arms around you and soft whispers in your ear, telling you that it was okay, that he was fine. Somewhere along the way, your tears had subsided and you became aware that you weren’t the only one crying.

“I know..” Dean’s voice broke and you pulled back from the embrace to see his face. He blinked a few times and sniffed and it made your heart break. He was trying to push back whatever he was holding onto and you wanted nothing more than to see him let go.

“Dean, what…”

He waved his hand to cut you off. “Just let me get this out….” he steadied himself and took a deep breath. “I wouldn’t be able to get out of bed. I wouldn’t be able to go on with my day, knowing that I couldn’t come home and tell you about what happened. I wouldn’t be able to drive Baby without picturing you riding next to me, singing those stupid pop songs that you love. I would lie in bed at night and think about how big of an idiot I was for everything I never said to you. What I’m trying to say now, is I know how it would feel to lose someone you love, because that’s what I would feel if I ever lost you. Okay? I love you. ” He seemed to have a weight lifted off his shoulders at the confession, and you couldn’t help but feel the same way.

You just stood there flabbergasted… speechless.

“Well are you just gonna stand there. Say something!”

A laugh escaped your lips at the sight of a stressed out, nervous Dean looking like a deer in headlights. “Dean… no chick flick moments.” You let out a laugh as you saw him relax. You came to him, closing the short distance between you. His lips met yours in a chaste kiss. Your hands wrapped around his neck, fingers threading through his short brown hair. He pulled you into him, leaving no space between you. Every sensation was filled with Dean, the feeling of his lips moving against yours, the scent of sweat, leather and whiskey surrounding you completely.

Sam stood in the doorway, silently taking in the sight of you in his brother’s arms. He was happy to see you finally happy, but he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He turned away and headed back to his room… alone.

anonymous asked:

I saw on tumblr a part of a comic where Raph is upset because he is craving a mother figure but none of his brothers seem to care, but April is there to comfort him. Besides seeing that, I wouldn't have pegged him down to crave a mother figure. What are your thoughts on him and his family craving a mother and closeness?

Hi there, anon! First off, I assume this is the comic part you’re talking about:

We’re gonna get to that real soon.

Keep reading

I understand that not all Trump voters are awful but I have every intention of holding them accountable when things like decades worth of diplomacy shatter. You knew who he was and you didn’t care. Not saying Clinton’s shit smelled of roses but you literally chose the shitty politician over her because you didn’t like the way she handled emails. Like on purpose…you made it a huge deal that he was an outsider and that made him qualified. Lay in the fucking bed you made, whiny bitches. Dont give me that #trumpgrets bullshit. TL;DR what did you honestly expect to happen? If it involved anything other than him being selfish then you’re automatically incorrect.

Tips on dating a Borderline #1

You must be either a super-sleuth or a mind-reader when it comes to figuring out what’s wrong when we are upset. Or angry. Or whatever. Because sometimes we don’t even know. And other times we know all too well but we’re not letting on without a fight.

There can be many reasons for this. Sometimes it’s that we don’t think you’re really interested. So when we say “it’s nothing, don’t worry about it” what we’re often thinking is “well, if they really wanna know, they’ll dig a little.” When you don’t dig a little, we assume you don’t care. And our inner dialogue will continue along the lines of “oh my god, they actually don’t care, they hate you, what did we do to deserve this??” And will promptly move on to listing all the ways in which we are a shitty person to be around.

Other times it’s because you have wounded us deeply. Often with something quite minor that wasn’t at all intended to upset us. But it has. And now we want you to figure it out. Of course, it would be much easier for us to simply tell you what you’ve done wrong, but we can’t. For many reasons. Mostly because we’ve been told for much of our lives that we’re making “a big old fuss over nothing” or “a mountain out of a molehill”, been accused of “exaggerating” “flying off the handle” “going psycho” “being a bunny boiler”…. I could go on but the memories are already making me want to kill myself. And I’m not even joking.

Also, sometimes, because we’re afraid things will become confrontational and we won’t be able to control our shit. Other times, it’s because we just can’t be bothered, we’re tired of moaning about the same old shit and you clearly don’t care anyway so whatever. If this is the case, and you are indeed the source of our displeasure, our inner monologue will quite possibly take a swift turn and begin to list all the ways in which you have let us down, hurt us, proven to be untrustworthy….. you get the picture. It’s called splitting. It’s not really much fun for anyone involved. It’s especially not fun for us.

Asking us questions about what we’re feeling and the things that may possibly have caused us to feel that way not only makes us feel like you actually give a shit and want to help, it also helps us gain a little more clarity in the dark and sloppy quagmire that is our feelings.

It’s annoying, I know, when you wanna help but the other person just keeps telling you “I’m fine, I’ll get over it”. It’s frustrating and it often makes you wonder why you’re bothering at all. I know because I’ve been there. And I didn’t always get it right either. But if you want to make them feel like they’re not alone, that you care and that you wanna help make things better, you have to show it. Consistently.

And if you can’t do that, that’s cool. It’s hard work, and I doubt any borderline would blame you for not bothering. But I can’t imagine there’s many of us that can control the ensuing shitstorm if you don’t. So, basically, you make your bed, you have to lie in it. Same as we have to lie in ours. It may sound harsh, and it’s really not intended to be. It just is what it is. And you’ll always have the comfort of knowing that you at least won’t get labelled a psycho for the way you make yours.

I’m gonna go back to wallowing in my own shitstorm now. Stay tuned for more massively enlightening posts on how fucking hard it is to deal with other people when you have BPD. Yay.

I really dislike when people generally look down on fhanders stuff because of how the romance was handled in the game. like I know that what bw did was shitty, but so was the fact that we can’t be more supportive of Anders and we all fix it with headcanons, right?? then why don’t you give people who prefer fhanders for whatever reason a break and don’t dismiss them immediately