which says something about my life that i don't want to contemplate

helly-watermelonsmellinfellon  asked:

Hi! You don't have to do this any time soon or anything, but I wanted to ask if you could gather a collection of all the fics written for @beanpots' Day & Night AU? I was reading over mine and contemplating adding more to it, when I realized I hadn't read any of the other fics inspired for it. And now I'm curious to see the other fics. Thanks for all the work you do! <3

This is one of my favourite AUs!! Much love to @beanpots who created the original AU that started it all which you can find here

(The wonderful art was created by @vulpes–vulpes and you can find the original post here! Permission was granted by the artist, please do not repost!)

Day and Night AU

of dusk and dawn and a love beyond by exile_wrath, Gen, 5.5k
The King of Day, Victor, drops flowers to the Ruler of Night, Yuuri, to express his love for him; yet, they are always returned, as Yuuri thinks that they’re dropped by mistake. Victor cries and plucks wishes off the petals every time, remembering the time when once, they had been together. SO GOOD I LOVE THIS

Carpe Diem, Carpe Noctem by Libika, Gen, 3.2k
Yet he couldn’t help but let his mind wander and think about this beautiful man in a glistening gown, with hundreds of stars shining brightly on it. The way his eyes shined – as they were made of thousands of stars themselves – when he was thinking about something. The Sky court was bathed in sunlight, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit melancholic. Very sweet!

When the Sun Met the Moon by Birdieee, Not Rated, 5.4k
The rulers of the two kingdoms are as distant as the stars themselves, yet the invisible thread of fate binds them together. What happens when the sun and the moon fall in love? Lovely Day and Night AU!

A Lunar Eclipse to Remember by Phoenix_Rising719, Gen, 7.5k
The King of Night, Yuuri Katsuki, is doing his best to keep it together and host a Lunar Eclipse Gala on his own. But that only works so well with out poor anxiety ridden child. But that’s nothing a little liquid courage can’t fix, right? Such a great fic!

Dusk & Dawn by Watermelonsmellinfellon, Mature, 3.5k
Victor was the King of Day. Dawn incarnate. Yuuri was the King of Night. Dusk incarnate. Dawn and Dusk come together twice every day, to exchange duties. They are eternal, existing in a romance as old as time itself. And the celestial bodies of their universe forever turn because of their power and love. I LOVE this!

The Eclipse of Roses by OrionHunts, Gen, 2k 
Victor is the king of daytime, better known as Day, and is crushing on his neighboring king, Night. After sending countless flowers Yuuri’s way, it finally takes Night’s dear friend Dusk (Phichit) to give the two of them the final push into falling in love. Phichit is the best matchmaker tbh

Sky of Endless Love by CagedBirdSings, Gen, 3.2k (WIP)
In a Realm far above the Earth, the King of Day leaves behind roses of vivid red - all in the hopes of having his feelings reach the King of Night. Meanwhile, Yuuri wonders why Victor keeps dropping his roses. SO FREAKIN CUTE

Stardust by Iki_victuri, Not Rated, 5.9k
After millennia of crossing paths daily Yuuri still had never even gazed upon the Day King’s face. All that will change in a fraction of a moment, along with his life, forever. Thumbs up!

When The Sun Chases The Moon From The Sky by ShrubbyScribe, Teen, 13k
The first time it happened, he thought it was a mistake.
The second time it happened, he didn’t know what to make of it.
The seventh time it happened, he started to get annoyed. AWESOME fic!

Finally Here by darklilcorner, Gen, 1.9k
Yuuri is the King of Night and Viktor is the King of Day. Grateful to the Night for allowing him to rest, Viktor leaves meaningful roses for Yuuri. The roses show how he feels, but Yuuri always returns them… Great fic!

morning and night by cosmofluous, Gen, 2.9k (WIP)
He really does hang the stars in the sky, and burn as bright as the sun. The descriptions in this fic are amazing!

Of Cloudless Climbs and Starry Skies by Maiden_of_the_Moon, Gen, 1.5k
The King of Day should not turn his head to watch. He should not hesitate, even though the sun does in the distance. He should not drop that single rose when their slippers align, when their gossamer gowns chafe whispers, and starlight pokes pinpricks into the dome of the sky. He should not romanticize that moment when day is overcome by night.But in being so overcome, how can he not? Very good fic!

For Your Time (I’ll Give You This Smile) by Liana_Legaspi, Gen, 2.2k
“Do you love me?” the King of Day says to Yuuri’s retreating back.Stop.Think.“I haven’t decided yet.” Yuuri confesses, “I might hate you.”There’s a smile in Viktor’s voice that’s sweeter than any lullaby Yuuri’s ever heard. “Then, if that’s the case, I’ll wait with you until you decide.” WOW!

Open Up The Stars by Kisnau, Gen, 9.4k (WIP)
The Sun and Moon were old friends. This is not a story of the Sun and Moon, equal entities and ancient neighbors. This is a story of their children, Night and Day. 

Beware the Ides of March

this isn’t the fic i intended to write today (or ever really) but it’s the fic that happened so

read on ao3

Bellamy doesn’t believe in any higher power, not really. He also doesn’t believe in fate, or coincidence, or any of those other things that people like to blame random happenings on.

But he will admit that if he did actually believe in any of those things, he would be fully convinced that they were laughing at his misfortune at this very minute which. Honestly, he would be too if not for the stab wound in his side. Stab wounds apparently make the whole laughing thing kind of difficult. Who’d’ve known.

“Would you just hold still?” Clarke huffs as she tries to clean the wound.


“You’re incorrigible.”

“And your bedside manner sucks, princess.”

She pinches the soft skin on the inside of his bicep and he yelps, glaring at her balefully.

It’s not like he wants to be here, sitting on the uncomfortable examination table in the ER, shirt off, and paper crinkling noisily beneath him each time he so much as breathes. No one ever wants to be in the ER, leaking blood all over the place because they were fucking stabbed in a mugging gone wrong, not even if the opportunity lends itself to a bout of truly morbid humour.

Just this morning he was telling his sophomores about the Ides of March and now here he is, living his own version of it. Again, he would be laughing except- stab wound.

Clarke is bent over his side, wisps of blonde hair escaping her braid and looking platinum in the harsh fluorescent hospital lighting. Her eyebrows are furrowed as she goes over the cut with antiseptic, and he hisses once more.

“That hurts,” he grunts, and then flinches again when she goes back in with another piece of gauze. Most of the bleeding has stopped, but there’s still a lazy trickle that she has to keep wiping up intermittently.

“Stab wounds tend to do that,” she deadpans.

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anonymous asked:

i don't know if you have ever answered this, but do you ever get anxious that they will move apart despite everything? like when i see dnp together i don't see any indication at all that that might happen. they seem so happy to me! but when dan says something like "this isn't a forever home", my mind automatically jumps to "bc maybe they'll just stay together as long as they're on yt as a 'duo' and then get their own forever homes". and if you do, what do you tell yourself to stop being anxious?

I kind of want to give two answers here. Do I ever get nervous watching Dan and Phil right now, and considering the possibility that they aren’t a couple and are only together for youtube? No. Absolutely not. In that regard, I can’t help you with the anxiety question, because I just don’t feel it.

Do I get anxious at the idea that they might one day move apart? I mean, I don’t know if I’d say anxious. Contemplative and melancholy, maybe. But that’s part of remembering that they’re real people. I feel like you have to treat it like any relationship, you know? The reality of life is that sometimes people break up, sometimes nice things end. In fact, most nice things end. Most things aren’t built to last forever. If you, yourself, are in a relationship with someone you could be extremely happy and in love and then a year from now no longer feel that way. It doesn’t invalidate the way you felt in the past, but the way you felt in the past doesn’t invalidate the lack of feeling it now. 

Though I will add:  I think Dan and Phil stand an above average chance of lasting forever. I don’t see an end to them, and I don’t think they see it either. 

It’s just that I also think it would be (and probably is) unhealthy for public figures to have that kind of pressure on their relationship, to have people telling them you can’t ever move on, because of how it makes me feel to think about - which is probably a factor in why Dan and Phil don’t share the relationship side of their life with us. 

The tl;dr here is that it’s all right to be emotionally invested in them but ground yourself by remembering that they are real people whose real life decisions we can’t always predict, so stressing over it or feeling anxious is quite literally futile. 


The western male always knew that you and your family didn’t get along that well but he didn’t think it would be this bad. Your parents had invited you both to come over for dinner since they wanted to “meet the boy that stole their child’s heart”.

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When I missed you,
It was easier.
I had someone to think about,
I knew it was always you.
And no one else.
Having someone to think about,
Even if not always easy,
Is a good feeling.
Now I keep waking up
Every single morning
Knowing there is no one
I wish I was with.
That, that is harder.

Looking back now at all those times
When I tried to make an effort
To look better for you,
I feel like I should’ve known
That things which start
With one trying to persuade
The other never end well.

Despite this,
I can’t stop the crying now.
Because that’s what I do
When things end. I cry.
I cry when I see pictures
Of my older brother
Before I was born.
I cry when I see forgotten
Peluches covered in dust
And carillons whose music
Does not play anymore
Once you open them.
I cry when I see the cursive
Handwriting of my mother
And the messy one of children
Who are still learning.

I cry when I cannot help expecting
Certain things to happen.
Sometimes I wake up
Sure that I’m going to
Receive a phone call
I’ve been waiting for weeks.
Sure that I’m going
To find a bunch of flowers
On my doorstep
When I get home
In the evening.
A mile-long letter
In my mailbox ending
With a ‘I can’t live without you,
So I’m taking you back now’
I expect
I hope for things
I know I’m not going to get
At least not on that day
Not with that person
And the bittersweetness
That follows
Swallows me whole.

I had always thought
That I would make a toast
To the first movie I watched without you
To the first dream you weren’t a part of
To the first song that I heard on the radio
And had nothing to do with you.
To the first book I finished and didn’t
Feel like talking to you about
To the first pair of shoes I didn’t buy
With you in my mind.
All those things happened,
But the bottle of champagne
Remained corked
And I could not comprehend
The need to celebrate
I had for so long contemplated.

I had never known why the things
That make me the happiest
Are also the ones that
Leave me feeling emptied
Once they’re gone.
Then you came along
And you showed me.
I still feel sad
When I see something that I like
And I think that you can’t be there
To see it with me.
But at the same time
I know that if I was to look
At myself at the mirror,
I would still see you.
And you’d never understand.

I’m never going to be
One of those people
Who can just walk away
Saying ‘now you have to learn
How to be without me’.
It is not like I think
I am irreplaceable
But I can’t bring myself
To simply be gone.
Because what if.
Yes, what if they realize
They need me as much as
I need them.
What if they fall down
And cannot get back
On their feet
Without my outstretched hand.
I know they won’t.
But what if.

I just had to accept
That some things will never happen
Because their time is gone.
I wasn’t the prettiest girl in high school.
I never skipped my morning class
To read a book at the sea.
No one ever called a radio station
To request a song for me.
No one ever wrote
My name on a wall.
I was no one’s ever first love.
None of these happened.
But this doesn’t mean
Other things won’t.

Some evenings
It is more difficult
To believe it
But I want to try
And be happy
About what has been
Because it means
That it was beautiful.
And you were, too.
My goodness, yes.
You always were.

—  The forgotten celebration

anonymous asked:

Scenario that takes place after Sebastian took Ciel's soul some time ago and he doesn't know what to do. (if it's too boring you don't have to do it) and also how is the mun doing?


Title: Epitaph

Series: Kuroshitsuji

Characters: Sebastian Michaelis

Pairing: None

Words: 1 307

Author’s note: You’re asking me to write something about Sebastian and tell me it can be too boring?! If I ever consider something like this as boring then it’ll mean that I’m probably sick or something :D It was such a great idea that I made it into an one-shot. Also I’m doing fine, thank you for asking, whenever my clippling depression is striking again I just don’t go on this blog so I wouldn’t do or say anything stupid, that’s why when I’m online here it means I’m okay.

I’m not crying, you’re crying.

Black car glided smoothly on the dark asphalt to the quiet rhythm of its engine working. Although the whole sky was covered in gloomy clouds, there was still no signs of the rain, not even the tiniest droplets hitting the surface of the front glass. The air was heavy making it hard to breathe, foreshadowing the incoming storm on the horizon, tensed aura filling the cabin and materialized in the driver’s gloved hands, now tightly squeezing the steering wheel. Orange coloured light of the buttons on the cockpit reflected in his eyes bored on the street in front of him but never seeing it, driving more of an instinct than actual focus, drowning too deep in his own thoughts to pay attention to such trivial things.

He sped up and mechanically changed the gear to the top, peeking at the speedometer to make sure that he wasn’t driving too fast to cause himself any further problems. Humans and their technologies, it all began to affect his life more that he would want to admit, forcing him to not only hide his true identity but also to change the way of acting so he could fit into society without attracting unnecessary attention of those who could actually try to hunt him. That was why he was there, resting on the leather seat of the car he has just bought from the car showroom, listening to the sound of the machine working when driving on the new street running through the forest, dressed in a black suit which didn’t differ from his previous outfit that much.

Enough to remind him where was he going.

Sebastian combed through his short, messy hair with the fingers, strands as black as his clothes and eyes, now purposely changed from the dark crimson to the colour which made him look as humanly as possible. Dark, cold gaze was still directed to the landscape passed by, the endless abyss of the irises perfectly reflecting the void inside his body and heart. One could believe that this man, the wolf in sheep’s clothing was capable of consuming lifes and souls just by the single stare of his mesmerizing eyes.

Not that he was wrong.

Driving out of the forest, the meadows appeared on the both sides of the road, fenced with short, bricked walls, completely abandoned. The storm hanged in the sky, waiting for the right moment to finally blow, meanwhile letting only few droplets to fall and smash on the ground. Sebastian noticed the bricked walls and collapsed roof looming on the horizon before any human could see the building so far away. The main street turned left, leading to the nearby town raised over the hill but the demon only slowed down to not destroy the chassis on the old, stoned road he chosed to drive by. High, neglected grasses stroked the sides of the car when he was approaching the long forgotten, victorian mansion, now almost completely eaten by the time, standing alone in the middle of nothing.

He didn’t get out of the car even when the engine stopped working, the front lights got turned off and the keys left the ignition, resting in his hand way too heavy than they truly were. Right now, he could hear the utter silence filling the air and the growing amount of doplets hitting the windows in a silent melody. He was string at the building, contemplating the sight in front of him and trying to recall how did it look the last time he was there. It had to be clean and neat, walls not scrapped away from the paint, wild ivy not covering almost the whole right side of the mansion, windows not broken and dark inside, rust not dripping from under them in a grotesque caricature of the dried tears, the dust and countless spiderwebs not present. And yet, it was all there, lost, abandoned, destroyed.

Sebastian knew that somewhere where he was now, once were beautiful gardens, precisely cut bushes, colourful flower beds, narrow, mysterious pathes and the marble fountain, however, he couldn’t see even the traces of what was there in the past. Only endless fields of weeds.

What was the name of the gardener? At first, Sebastian thought that if the blonde boy was present, this place wouldn’t look like that but then remembered how many times he had almost killed all the plants when trying to take care of them, so probably this place wasn’t in that bad condition. The tiny smile shadowed on his lips but disappeared just as fast when the reality hit him.

Finnian died long ago, as well as Mey-Rin, Baldroy, Snake and Tanaka. As well as friendly prince of Bengal and his loyal butler, weird Chinese nobleman who was visiting this place quite often, eccentric viscount way too fond of wine and human bodies, and the Midfords. As well as his master.

Long eyelashes threw shade on his pale skin when the first lightning cut the sky and the light reached his features, reflecting in his eyes and causing the pupils to narrow for a single moment. The demon didn’t even blink.

Suddenly, as if pushed by an invisible force, he get out of the car and came closer to the main entrance of the mansion, not bothering to close the vehicle. He could feel the rain on his cheeks and neck, some of them falling under the collar of his dress shirt but didn’t react until reaching the stairs overgrown with a moss. Elegant, polished leather boots were tapping on the ground when he went upstairs, not trying to cover himself more with the jacket when the wild wind started to blow from the west, cold rain landing on his perfectly ironed outfit, slowly drenching it. Sebastian didn’t feel the cold air on his wettened skin or simply didn’t care about it when his hand rested on the rusty door knob, twisting it carefully, not wanting to accidentally pull it out.

The door withdrew with a loud creak which soon echoed in an empty hall. The main room was drowning in darkness, the chessboard-like floor covered in dust and ashes, wind whistling between an empty corridors bringing the smell of mustiness and oblivion. Sebastian inhaled the scent and realized that he could no longer feel any of the smells he remembered; no fresh washed tableclothes, no wooden furnitures, no melting wax, no flowers in the vases, no cooked food, no brewed tea, just the rotten walls, mold and dirt.

With a sad smile playing on his lips, the demon thought that now, finally, after all those years, there was peace and silence in the mansion, the same he was longing for everyday while working as a butler. Nobody was screaming and shouting, destroying priceless service, breaking porcelain and burning the kitchen, there was no wild snakes hidding in the closets and no orders to fulfill. He was free, able to do anything, whenever he wanted, he could go and say as he pleased, and nobody could stop him. Unfortunately, with an unknown cramp in a stomach, this realization didn’t please him as much as he thought while planning this little journey.

Leaving the door open, he came back to the car in now pouring rain. He wiped off the droplets from the forehead and started the engine, gentle blow of warm air immediately caressing his paler than usually face. Later, he couldn’t recall what exactly was he thinking about for the whole way back to the center of London, so bright, loud and alive, unlike the place he was now leaving forever to rot.

However, the demon thought and smiled slightly to himself, there were still some positive sides, like fluffy, white Persian cat patiently waiting for him in the apartment on the 56th floor of The Shard. And that was alright.

here is my first overwatch fanfic its really gay 

if yer into that give it a read i guess. it aint a monster but it isn’t exactly a drabble either. also ya can interpret this as like either rly close buds, or romantic, or queerplutonic i love all of the above. 

SUMMARY: Genji is very touch-starved and will turn to questionable methods to get attention. Including getting stabbed.

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Let the Stars Watch

Fandom: Left 4 Dead
Pairing: Nick/Ellis
Rating: M (18+)
Word Count: 4,517
Summary: Nick finds the perfect moment to tell Ellis how he feels. Based on the song ‘Eavesdrop’ by the Civil Wars.

A/N: Thanks to Catty ( mintsharpie​/ellislash​ ) for being a good beta and encouraging me to keep writing in general. 

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Door-ky Calling

Ship: Nalu

Story Type: Oneshot, Fluffy

Characters: Lucy Heartfilia, Natsu Dragneel, Levy Mcgarden

Summary:  “Let me guess,” Lucy said into the intercom after a while, “You’re the singing leprechaun I hear people talking about.”“Close enough,” He answered,“Only I’m six-foot tall, I don’t have pots of gold, and despite popular belief, I can actually sing.“

A present for meanie cici @strawberrysweetlove35 

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mindoverwhatever  asked:

Thoughts on "Superman is SUCH a boring character/goody two shoes?"? I can understand the reasoning behind that sentiment but I feel like there is so much more to him that can make for great material based on him: coming from a distant planet and trying to ingratiate himself to life with humans. I even remember batman saying something to the effect of "it's a good thing Clark doesn't see himself as a God or we'd all be in trouble," which is a great theme to explore as well.

I say, what’s so boring about a goody two-shoes? 

The writers should definitely focus on the immigrant angle, especially considering current events in the USA and the creators of Superman (two Jewish men named Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster). It seems like Batman vs. Superman will be using that in the movie, but I’m not sure if they’ll be able to drive the point home considering the irony lost on many The Hunger Games viewers. 

The full quote that you’re referring to is from Batman/Superman v1 #3. 

It is a remarkable dichotomy. In many ways, Clark is the most human of us all. Then…he shoots fire from the skies and it is difficult not to think of him as a god. And how fortunate we all are that it does not occur to him.

Then we have fancomics like this that explore just how heavy the burden of being “super” is. Every moment he spends saving one life, he could be saving others. Even while the unnecessary death toll lingers in the back of his mind, Superman is known for taking the time to talk to people who are contemplating suicide on rooftops for hours. It’s not a role that I would wish upon even my worst enemies. 

Wallace made some pointed remarks on the subject. Particularly: 

That’s life in Superman’s world, here the most powerful being on the planet is glad to call you a friend as long as you work hard and help others. The ability to leap tall buildings in a single bound has nothing to do with it. Born on Krypton but raised in Kansas, Superman is a small-town boy who never developed a shell of big-city cynicism.

Critics sometimes throw jabs at the character, saying that Superman’s off-the-scale power makes him hard to relate to. Not true. Superman is just Clark Kent from Smallville at heart and he’d happily munch on a burger chatting with you about football prospects.

Superman’s humble roots enable him to empathize with all people from the mighty to the meek. He’s not Superman because he has the power to take over the world, He’s Superman because he won’t.

The very first super hero is the one with the biggest heart. After 75 years we’re all still looking up in the sky.

Bruce said that we’re lucky that Clark doesn’t realize that he could be a god, but I’d argue that he’s well-aware of that–he just doesn’t want to and never will. He wants to help people around the world and talk about football and spend time with the woman that he loves. 

And then there’s this gifset in which Clark comforts Billy Batson by telling him, “That’s because good is hard. Bad is always easy.” 

Many people assume that “good” is easy and simple, when in reality, it’s often the hardest damn thing you’ll ever do. Even Kamala Khan points this out: good isn’t something you are, it’s something you do. It’s a choice that you need to make every damn day and it’s not the easy choice. I have no patience for people who think that edgier heroes are automatically better, and neither does Matt Murdock or Wonder Woman. What’s so boring about making the hardest choice over and over and over again, even in the face of countless tragedies? What’s so boring about a man who wants to help other people with his gift when he could conquer them instead?

As Mark Waid said

When Superman, without a second’s hesitation, takes time from his world-building feats to embrace and comfort a suicidal young girl. When he tells her, “you’re much stronger than you think you are”, they become the most moving words we have ever read in Superman history. And they are perfect because they reveal, in one sentence, the fundamental secret of Superman and why we love him so:

Gods achieve their power by encouraging us to believe in them.

Superman achieves his power by believing in us.

Frankly, if you think that Superman is boring just because he’s so good even though he feels so alone in the world sometimes, then I want you to know that he believes in you being better than that. 

There is always a place in fiction and reality for the darker heroes, but they are no better for being so. 

For Anna. I love you. <3


Nick wouldn’t say he’s obsessed with Louis Tomlinson. He’s a grown man with his own life and responsibilities and he doesn’t care about stupid, annoying popstars, no matter how pretty they are. And no matter how many times he’s thought about kissing them. 

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tattoos and stick figures

punk!cas au: 4.2k words 

Castiel can hear the whispers of the parents on the playground around him but by now he’s used to it. He just keeps looking out for his daughter.

Being a young and single father had made Castiel fall victim many times to the glares of judgement from the middle-aged women around town. He’d walk hand-in-hand with Claire down the street and she would be none-the-wiser to the whispered remarks being made about her dad. 

It bothered him sometimes. When Claire was still a baby and he pushed her around the park in her pushchair, people would give him those looks, as if he’d just stolen the baby from a kind and caring suburban family. But no. It was just her and him.

He supposes that it also doesn’t help that he is covered pretty much head-to-toe in tattoos and piercings.

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On creativity and cold water

I read a clickbait article entitled something similar-to-but-not-exactly “7 Tips to Jumpstart Your Creative Day, You Beautiful Goddamn Flower” and it included the tip “try taking a cold shower!”

And, since these articles never openly admit that they are just making shit up, the tip supposedly came from a Very Wealthy Old White Man. I forget which VWOWM it was, but golly, if anyone has it all figured it, it’s a person with money and wrinkles and dude junk concealed in his expensive country club khakis. You made it! Let us bask in your secrets! We have less money than you and we are probably covered in soot and we desire only to do some basking after a long day of sweeping these fucking chimneys!

But this tip was something like, “Nothing gives me a good jolt in the morning like a cold shower!” and you have to wonder, did this guy always do this? Was there a time when when he was just one of Us Normals, in a cramped garden apartment, hunched under in his not-tall-enough shower head, cranking up that cold water knob and thinking, “May my fingertips turn pruny from this arctic blast spraying my hands and face and butt, and may this newfound pruniness propel me toward fabulous wealth”? Or did this wisdom come later in life, when one morning, in one of his six bathrooms, he did the knobs wrong, and cold water came out and shot him right in the junk zone, and he thought, “Wow, what a boost! I love having cold parts in the morning!” and now that’s his tip for everyone to be successful? Cold morning bits are why he’s successful, not hard work or having an already rich family or whatever.

Anyway, I read this tip, and I thought about how much they guy should shut up, and about how nobody knows exactly why they’re successful, how we’re all just kinda stumbling through life and sometimes there’s a bag of money in front of us and sometimes there’s an open manhole, and offering advice like “consider cold water” is insulting.

But then I just took a cold shower, and I thought, whoa! This feels kinda good!

And I guess if there’s anything to be learned here, it’s that even if you find yourself reacting to something with anger or disgust, at least let yourself stop and think about it.

Like, one time at a family reunion, my aunts and uncles hired psychics to give readings at my uncle’s house. And they showed up and were paid to make wild guesses about people’s careers and love lives. They told my cousin’s girlfriend that she was going to get dumped, and she cried. Partly because, after her reading, when the aunts and uncles asked “oh my goodness, what did the psychic say?” she had to say “They said I’m getting dumped. I’m at this family reunion as a guest, and I paid money to have a stranger tell me I’m getting dumped and I probably won’t see all at the next reunion.” Which, okay, fuck you, psychics, that is a shitty thing to do.

But as she sat there crying after her psychic reading, wiping away tears and eating a hotdog (I vaguely recall family functions having a lot of hotdogs?), she had to think, “Oh wow, losing this relationship would make me very sad.” And then she sits and thinks about her relationship, and why it matters so much to her, and maybe she eats a second hotdog, because all this self reflection is exhausting and hotdogs are a real feel-good food.

Like, if I paid a psychic to tell me about my life, and she said, “the position of Neptune tells me that in three months you are going to meet the dolphin you are eventually going to marry,” I would first think, “No way, I don’t go to aquaria. Where would I even meet a dolphin? Is there a dating website with dolphins on it? Are some women on dating websites secretly dolphins? etc.”, but then I’d think “No way, I couldn’t love a dolphin. I’m looking for a human woman, with a smart kind human brain, and a job she loves, and instead of eating fish out of a bucket all the time, I’d prefer she want to try new and exciting land foods with me,” and look at that, this nonsense stimulus got me reflecting on my own life and values and goals.  So thanks a lot, you goddamn fraud. The planets don’t influence our lives, but if I can look past my own blind rage at your garbage lies, I can at least use those lies as a prompt to think about my own priorities, and that’s nice.

And while it’s not quite the same thing, that millionaire’s shower tip got me thinking about my own morning routine, and that type of quiet contemplation can’t hurt, and also cold water on your butt feels pretty refreshing.

anonymous asked:

Are you still taking prompts? Because if so, I've never actually read a really good Kiss-In-The-Rain-After-Heartfelt-Love-Confession ficlet (or maybe my standards are too high, I don't know), and maybe you could fix my need?

imagine if the first time Stiles and Derek meet once again after the void humdinger stuff, Derek acts super shifty like, won’t meet Stiles’ eye, talks to him real carefully, doesn’t get up in his space, ever. and Stiles is confused as hell, and won’t stop bothering him about why Derek’s behaving so oddly, doesn’t like it, wants Derek to go back to ragging on him, arguing with him, getting in his face, he needs things to be normal, if only between them, no one’s treating him the same and he hates it, he’s not made of glass! he’s fine, Derek doesn’t have to act like he’s fragile and in the middle of his rant Derek blurts out “i had a dream about you!”

and then, obviously flees the scene, and Stiles is left thinking that Derek had a dream about him, you know, an eyebrow wiggling, sexy locker room (heh) style dream. doesn’t shut up about it. in the middle of conversation with Scott just says “but what do you think it means?” and Scott just shrugs like “idk, dude, that he had a dream about you? i have dreams about you,” and then pulls a face and adds hastily, “but we eat macaroni on the moon or have a sleepover in the mall on bales of hay” and then the get distracted talking about how cool that would be. BUT IT IS AUTOMATICALLY ASSUMED THAT DEREK’S DREAM IS SOME SORT OF DIRTY, NASTY, MARVIN GAYE (U KNO DEREK’D PLAY MARVIN GAYE), NAKED, SEXY TIMES DREAM. 

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anonymous asked:

accidentally swapped phone with someone at a party and don't realize until their mom calls in the morning and you spend like three hours talking to her au + bellarke

Thanks for the prompt, I hope you enjoy!

Clarke awoke with a shake, something buzzing obnoxiously beneath her. As she fumbled for her phone, a pain pulsing in her brain, Clarke cursed Raven and her need to celebrate her new job with an obscene amount of alcohol. Clarke’s hand felt the hard block of cell phone, and she yanked it up to the side of her face.

“Raven, you better have not-”

“Not Raven,” came a voice, cutting Clarke off with a cheery yet sardonic tone. Clarke recoiled from the phone, holding it out in front of her to realize that the device in her hand was certainly not hers.

“Oh, hi,” Clarke stumbled in reply. “…Sorry?”

“You’re fine,” the voice commented. “I’d just like to know how and why you have my son’s phone.”

“I am currently trying to figure that out myself,” Clarke sheepishly replied. It was incredibly embarrassing, Clarke recognized, and she could feel her cheeks heat up. Even though she didn’t feel like her memories were that spotty from the night before, she couldn’t remember whose phone she could possibly have.

“Well, could you hand it to him?” she questioned. Clarke sputtered over the phone, her cheeks now practically radiating off heat from the embarrassment. This women  thought she had slept with her son, admitted she couldn’t remember him, and then had somehow stolen his phone.

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An Understanding

The sound of crayon on paper.

“So,” the artist says, not looking up.

“So,” Frisk says.

They’re sitting, crouched like a cat, on a Chara’s bedside table. They are also the table, and the picture frame that has currently stuck into their avatar and broken it apart slightly already, to which they pay no mind. They are also the Chara, and the crayons, and the paper.

In a way, when they talk, they talk to themselves, always.

“So explain to me how it works, then,” the Chara says, briefly pausing to point the black crayon at them, red eyes narrowing. The end has been chewed. “And don’t say I wouldn’t understand.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” It would be mean, after all. And unnecessary, because Chara will…

“You mean you don’t say that. You just loudly imply it.” They return to their task.

Already know.

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A human au thorki fic, based on this prompt: ‘you found me hanging by my fingertips from your window and i don’t want to tell you i was trying to rob you but idk how else to explain this and i don’t want to go to jail and also you’re kind of cute we should make out when i’m not clinging onto your window ledge for my life’ au from this post.

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anonymous asked:

i don't want to sound mean, but why would zayn come back to 1d? it's pointless for him. he isn't in oasis x coldplay kind of music the guys do. he's already signed with rca/tfa. he's working with 2 times grammy winning producer malay. if he returns, he'll be literally the second kevin richardson from backstreet boys. please don't use the argument that "zayn can't function without his four brothers" bc it's not. they all were friends and probably still are. but they can live without each other.

When you come to my Inbox asking my opinion, you do not get to pre-censor my response, k? So don’t come at me with that “please don’t” blah blah. I’d never say “Zayn can’t function without his four brothers” anyway. So if you’re floating about in the part of the fandom that would, step your game up.

So here’s the deal: Once again the immaturity of the fandom rears it’s Cerebus of a head. Why so binary? Why so black and white? Why so either/or?  Why not think creatively? Why? Can’t? Zayn? Do? Both? Do you understand today’s most successful artists aren’t one trick ponies? They diversify. They may act. They may write. They may model. They may get into creating a brand for themselves like with fashion, fragrances, apps, management, etc. They may collaborate with other artists. So why pray tell must Zayn Malik either be a member of 1D or a solo artist? There’s more to be gained for him by doing both. I won’t even get into the friendships and chemistry they have together and the fact that Zayn actually enjoys working with Liam, Louis, Niall and Harry.

As for Zayn not liking 1D’s music, that’s the official narrative talking and nothing you’ve ever, ever heard from Zayn’s own mouth. In fact, it’s insulting to suggest that someone who put so much heart and soul into singing on 1D’s tracks was what–just in it for the money?? Not out of artistic passion and connection to the music? Just to cynically use 1D to launch himself? Because of contractual obligations? But those contracts are so easy to get out of, though. Heh. Are you into just one genre of music nonnie? Because I like pop, rock, r&b and hip hop. I’m even into some jazz and classical. Many of your favorite songs wouldn’t exist if the artists that created them weren’t influenced by multiple genres of music. If you are the rare bird who’s stuck on one style, again, step your game up.

I do believe Zayn has signed with RCA and Purple PR. But you’re assuming he’s also signed with Turn First Artists. There’s been no official announcement. And while I believe that’s likely to happen, it hasn’t happened yet. Because he’s still with Modest. To the extent that we’re able to verify, that is still the current deal. Again, you’ve got to parse reality from the official narrative which is riddled with half truths and outright lies. If you care enough to contemplate these things, then care enough to seek out the truth. It’s important.

And no, Zayn would not be the next Kevin Richardson. I’m not even sure what you’re implying there anyway. Because can’t a bitch take a time out then decide to revisit the thing they took a time out from? Is that not life? Leave Kevin alooooonneee. Anywayyyy…if you don’t understand by now that One Direction is on some other stuff, you never will. They are different. There’s things happening here that are unprecedented. They absolutely are able to write their own ticket from here on out. In other words, dues have been paid and you will deal. With 1D playing it smart–evidently preparing to spread their influence via many industry power players in the US/UK, if and when Zayn returns you can bet the spin will be mostly positive. The power behind them wouldn’t allow it to go down any other way. Zayn’s already being re-built as a brand that would be an asset to 1D. So his return wouldn’t be about him crawling back in defeat. It would be like The Avengers collecting all the infinity stones (wow that was nerdy!). Each stone is a big deal. But together they’re a huge deal.   

Well I hope you’ve found this enlightening. Something for you to think about beyond the childish, romanticized “Zayn can’t function without his four brothers” bull. There’s way more to this than that.

anonymous asked:

I'm beginning to see some CSers say that regina would make the most sense to save emma due to her experience in magic and how they understand each other( which, i don't know how? cause its literally just one sided) so, what's your opinion about it?

Oh dear. I’ve been contemplating saying something about this. I know people hate to see the fandom divided and getting upset, but there are CSers who don’t like Regina. Don’t, won’t, and it has nothing to do with fanservice. I will admit to being one of them. I’ve tried and I will admit that Regina has made progress, but her continued lack of remorse for the shitty things she’s done and her flagrant disrespect of Emma just rubs me the wrong way. Her now blaming the Author for her “unhappy life” just makes it worse. Again, this is just my opinion. Evil Regals are gonna disagree. That’s okay.

Frankly, I don’t think magic has anything to do with who understands Emma better. When she needed a friend to help her accept her magic it was Elsa, not Regina. Regina isn’t an outcast because she was raised alone, bounced from place to place feeling unwanted. Regina turned HERSELF into an outcast, but murdering and terrorizing people. Two different things, neither of which have to do with magic. Plus Emma was born with magic and Regina had to learn it. I know the show wants them to be friends, but the magic angle just seems like the wrong angle to take. Let them bond over being parents to Henry, the one thing they DO actually have in common.

And as of right now, it IS one sided. Emma keeps making overtures and Regina gets snide and insults her. Over and over again. As an Emma stan, I HATE that with a fiery passion. I hated it when Person did it and I hate now. Promoting female friendship is fine, but for the love of Christ, why not promote Emma’s relationship with Snow? Or Belle? Or Ruby? Or SOMEONE. Someone who doesn’t look down at her and insult her. Hasn’t Emma had enough of that in her life?

If Killian and Regina play a role in undoing whatever happens to Emma, then I will learn to be okay with it. If it’s Regina alone (which it won’t since Adam specifically said that Killian would be involved), then I would be pissed. My ideal scenario is Killian alone, but I have a feeling it won’t be that simple. 

HOWEVER, if it comes to some sort of sacrifice to bring Emma back from the brink, you can be your sweet bibby it will be Killian. Cuz grudging friends or not, Regina doesn’t care enough about Emma to sacrifice a damn thing. Whereas Killian would happily sacrifice his life if necessary. Because HE loves her. Regina just tolerates her.