why do you have a shovel

Studio Ghibli Sentence Meme
  • “Now I have something I want to protect. It’s you.”
  • “I’m not afraid to die!”
  • “You cannot change fate. However, you can rise to meet it, if you so choose.”
  • “They say that the best blaze brightest when circumstances are at their worst.”
  • “Fear and anger only make it grow faster.”
  • “I think I can handle it.”
  • “Here’s another curse for you - may all your bacon burn.”
  • “Don’t worry! Stay right where you are, I’m coming to get you! You’re gonna be fine, I won’t let him hurt you.”
  • “I need something of yours. How ‘bout your eyes?”
  • “We gotta get out of here! We’re gonna get in trouble!”
  • “You, you sabotaged me! Look! Look at what you’ve done to my hair! Look!”
  • “No more killing. It has to stop!”
  • “You sound ghastly, like some 90-year-old woman.”
  • “Guys, don’t take that food! We’re gonna get in trouble!”
  • “Fight ‘em! C’mon!”
  • “Smile so we can make a good impression.”
  • “We each need to find our own inspiration. Sometimes it’s not easy”
  • “I finally get a bouquet and it’s a goodbye present. That’s depressing.”
  • “Life is suffering. It is hard. The world is cursed. But still, you find reasons to keep living.”
  • “Sorry, it looks like you’re involved.”
  • “Oh, my baby! Are you all right? Are you emotionally traumatized?”
  • “Now I’m trying to look inside myself and find out how I did it.”
  • “Leave before it gets dark.”
  • “Once you do something, you never forget. Even if you can’t remember.”
  • “Cut off a wolf’s head and it still has the power to bite.”
  • “It’s all so familiar yet I know I’ve never been here before. I feel so at home.”
  • “Now I’m trying to look inside myself and find out how I did it.”
  • “I suggest you surrender. There is no ship coming to rescue you.”
  • “I had no idea that my rage could drive me to kill.”
  • “These days, there are angry ghosts all around us - dead from wars, sickness, starvation - and nobody cares.” 
  • “A heart’s a heavy burden.”
  • “Please! You must stop!”
  • “Well, well, well… hello kitty.”
    “You can’t be busy - you’re five!”
  • “So you say you’re under a curse? So what? So’s the whole damn world.”
  • “ I have really had enough of your incredible stupidity.”
  • “Lamebrain! They made an escape! Now step on it!”
  • “I didn’t want them to kill you.”
  • “It’s fun to move to a new place. It’s an adventure.”
  • “Welcome the rich man, he’s hard for you to miss. His butt keeps getting bigger, so there’s plenty there to kiss!”
  • “You shouldn’t be here! Get out!”
  • “He said Mom was ugly, now go get him!”
  • “Kill him and you’ll be famous.”
  • “I’ve seen him do this once before when a girl dumped him.”
  • “S/He’s alive. There goes that dream.”
  • “That was the night I died.”
  • “I’d rather be a pig than a fascist.”
  • “You don’t remember your name?”
  • “Don’t be afraid, I just want to help you.”
  • “Poor kids. I’ll really miss them.”
  • “I don’t fight for honor. I fight for a paycheck.”
  • “ No, No, No! Don’t do this! Help! Help! Crazy lady with the shovel!”
  • “She was once quite beautiful, so I decided to pursue her, then I realized she wasn’t, so then, as usual, I ran away.”
  • “You’re in love. Don’t deny it, you’ve been sighing all day”
  • “She never woke up again.”
  • “You blubber heads! I’m not runnin’ a luxury cruise! Now get to work!”
  • “Why does everything that’s good for you have to taste so bad?”
  • “Whatever you don’t want me to clean, better hide it now!”
  • “This is our little secret. You tell anyone and I’ll rip your mouth off.”
  • “I give up. I see no point in living if I can’t be beautiful.”
  • “If I lose my magic, that means I’ve lost absolutely everything.”
  • “ It’s… you’re scaring me. I have this weird feeling you’re going to leave. ”
  • “There’s a demon inside you.”
  • “Don’t get alarmed but I’m being followed. Act normal.”
  • “Don’t worry, I’ve got four-wheel drive.”
  • “This is what hatred looks like! This is what it does when it catches hold of you! It’s eating me alive, and very soon it will kill me!”
  • “Smooth. Very smooth. You definitely know how to make a good first impression.”
  • “Everyone fears their own mortality.”
  • “Play with me or I’ll break your arm!”
  • “I gotta get out of this place. Someday I’m getting on that train.”
  • “Wait give us a minute! This is clearly harassment.”
  • “Why do fireflies have to die so soon?”
  • “There you are, sweetheart. Sorry I’m late. I was looking everywhere for you.” 
  • “When you’re going to kill a god, let someone else do your dirty work.”
  • “Why did you stop me from killing her?”
  • “When I saw you, I just wanted to find a way to protect you.” 
  • “One thing you can always count on is that hearts change.”
  • “Tell me while you’re still alive!”
  • “This is a tomb for the both of us.”
  • “If nobody comes in, I’m gonna have to eat pancakes forever and be fat, fat, fat! And what am I supposed to do about that?”
  • “Even if you were a woman, you’d still be an idiot!”
  • “What do you say we give 'em a little demonstration of how fast we can run, huh?”
  • “HAM!”

pretty dirty pick up lines.

’ you look a lot like my next girlfriend/boyfriend. ’
’ are you a drill sergeant? because you have my privates standing at attention. ’
’ do you mix concrete for a living? because you’re making me hard. ’
’ if you’re feeling down, i can feel you up. ’
’ i’m no weather man, but you can expect more than a few inches tonight. ’
’ i may not go down in history, but i’ll go down on you. ’
’ are you from the ghetto? cause i’m about to ghetto hold of dat ass. ’
’ you know what i like in a girl? my dick. ’
’ are you a doctor? cause you just cured my erectile dysfunction. ’
’ i lost my virginity. can i have yours? ’
’ hey, you wanna do a 68? you go down on me, and i’ll owe you one. ’
’ you can call me cake, cause i’ll go straight to your ass. ’
’ roses are red, violets are fine. if i be the 6, will you be the 9? ’
’ i’m like a firefighter, i find ‘em hot and leave ‘em wet! ’
’ i’m hung like a tic tac. wanna freshen your breath? ’
’ you smell like trash. may i take you out? ’
’ i wanna floss with your pubic hair. ’
’ let’s have a party and invite your pants to come on down. ’
’ you’re so hot, even my pants are falling for you! ’
’ are you spaghetti cause i want you to meat my balls. ’
’ we should play strip poker. you can strip, and I’ll poke you. ’
’ do you like adele? cause i can tell you wanna be rolling in the d. ’
’ do you have a shovel? cause i’m diggin’ that ass! ’
’ damn, are you my new boss, because you just gave me a raise. ’
’ remember my name, because you’ll be screaming it later! ’
’ are you an elevator? cause i wanna go down on you. ’
’ are you a shark? cause i’ve got some swimmers for you to swallow. ’
’ do you work for papa johns? cause you’re a fine pizza ass. ’
’ are you from china? cause i’m china get in your pants. ’
’ why don’t you surprise your roommate and not come home tonight? ’
’ baby there’s a party in my pants and you are invited! ’
’ i’m looking for treasure, can i look around your chest? ’
’ if i flip a coin, what are my chances of getting head? ’
’ would you like a hotdog to go with those buns? ’
’ this may seem corny, but you make me really horny. ’
’ how about you make me the climax of your story? ’
’ that’s a nice set of legs, what time do they open? ’
’ my name is skittles… wanna taste my rainbow? ’
’ you remind me of a crop, because i wanna plow you. ’
Dad Pun Sentence Starters

Send one to my Muse, or alternatively send  👍and my Muse will say one to you!

“What time did the man go to the dentist? Tooth hurt-y.”
“Did you hear about the guy who invented Lifesavers? They say he made a mint.”
“A ham sandwich walks into a bar and orders a beer. Bartender says, ‘Sorry we don’t serve food here.’”
“Why did the Clydesdale give the pony a glass of water? Because he was a little horse!”
“How do you make a Kleenex dance? Put a little boogie in it!”
“Two peanuts were walking down the street. One was a salted.”
“I used to have a job at a calendar factory but I got the sack because I took a couple of days off.”
“How do you make holy water? You boil the hell out of it.”
“Two guys walk into a bar, the third one ducks.”
“'Wow, you’re a fart smella…I mean smart fella!”
“I had a dream that I was a muffler last night. I woke up exhausted!”
“What’s Forrest Gump’s password? 1forrest1”
“Did you hear about the restaurant on the moon? Great food, no atmosphere.”
“What do you call a fake noodle? An Impasta.”
“How many apples grow on a tree? All of them.”
“Want to hear a joke about paper? Nevermind it’s tearable.”
“I just watched a program about beavers. It was the best dam program I’ve ever seen.”
“Why did the coffee file a police report? It got mugged.”
“How does a penguin build it’s house? Igloos it together.”
“Why did the scarecrow win an award? Because he was outstanding in his field.”
“Why don’t skeletons ever go trick or treating? Because they have no body to go with.”
“Don’t call me later, call me Dad.”
“What do you call an elephant that doesn’t matter? An irrelephant”
“Want to hear a joke about construction? I’m still working on it.”
“What do you call cheese that isn’t yours? Nacho Cheese.”
“Why couldn’t the bicycle stand up by itself? It was two tired.”
“What did the grape do when he got stepped on? He let out a little wine.”
“I wouldn’t buy anything with velcro. It’s a total rip-off.”
“The shovel was a ground-breaking invention.”
“This graveyard looks overcrowded. People must be dying to get in there.”
“5/4 of people admit that they’re bad with fractions.”
“Two goldfish are in a tank. One says to the other, "do you know how to drive this thing?”“
"What do you call a man with a rubber toe? Roberto.”
“What do you call a fat psychic? A four-chin teller.”
“I would avoid the sushi if I was you. It’s a little fishy.”
“To the man in the wheelchair that stole my camouflage jacket… You can hide but you can’t run.”
“The rotation of earth really makes my day.”
“I thought about going on an all-almond diet. But that’s just nuts.”
“What’s brown and sticky? A stick.”
“I’ve never gone to a gun range before. I decided to give it a shot!”
“Why do you never see elephants hiding in trees? Because they’re so good at it.”
“Did you hear about the kidnapping at school? It’s fine, he woke up.”
“A furniture store keeps calling me. All I wanted was one night stand.”
“I used to work in a shoe recycling shop. It was sole destroying.”
“Did I tell you the time I fell in love during a backflip? I was heels over head.”
“I don’t play soccer because I enjoy the sport. I’m just doing it for kicks.”
“People don’t like having to bend over to get their drinks. We really need to raise the bar.”

  • Nora: You know Ren, I was thinking about something.
  • Ren: What's that?
  • Nora: Well, you know how when that Grimm attacked our village, we hid under that house until it was safe?
  • Ren: Yeah?
  • Nora: And then after I hugged you, you went out onto the street and grabbed that wooden hammer and gave it to me?
  • Ren: I do.
  • Nora: And that's a huge reason why I wanted my huntress weapon to be a giant hammer?
  • Ren: *cracks a small smile* Yeah- what about it?
  • Nora: Well, what if it hadn't been a hammer? Like, what if it had been a shovel or something?
  • Ren: What?
  • Nora: I mean, a hammer is really cool, but what if it had been something less cool? What if it was some wooden puppet or a fork or something?
  • Ren: Nora-
  • Nora: Would I have been inspired by that? Would I be beating up monsters and bad guys with like, a giant doll or gardening spade today?
  • Ren: ... Nora, eat your breakfast.
How to become a good student (again) 3: Yearn for friendship - not worship; not debasement

Hello, fellow ex-good student!

‘tis done! This beast just got longer and longer, so I decided to cut it down a bit for the sake of readability. But let me know if there’s something that was too vague - the nuance might have got lost in the editing process.

Alright, let’s get down to business (to defeat! The Huns!)! So, if you’re an ex-good student, I’m pretty sure that you know this static in your head, right? Whenever you really need to do something but you just can’t get up and do it, so you keep procrastinating even though you hate it and keep scrolling and scrolling or gaming and gaming and feel more and more guilty?

Well, it might not be the most immediate analogy, but for this post I want you to consider that what connects you and your subject of study is essentially a relationship and that this static is (among other things) an indicator of how screwed up your relationship is. Just like with real people, your relationships with subjects can either

  • prosper and bear fruit (me & Creative Writing)
  • become cold and distant (me & French)
  • or, worst of all, turn sour and actively harmful. (me & PE, back in school)

Now, nobody likes to hear that they’re relationship-ing wrong. And it is true that different approaches work for different people. But here are the counter-productive relationships that I’ve personally ended up in and I’m gonna show you how I got into and out of them, so you can try to do the same. Maybe it’ll help you lift that static from your head.

Side-Note: Always remember that, since your subjects are just that (subjects), and not real people, you are the only one who can actually mend these relationships and, conversely, you are the one who screwed them up in the first place (probably with good intentions, though).

So, we’ll take them in this order:

1) Overeager Debasement

2) Undereager Debasement

3) Worship


(Oh, and in case you wanna catch up:

Masterpost 

Part 1

Part 2)


1) Overeager Debasement

What is it?

The desire to do everything, perfectly, at the same time, right now. Not to limit yourself to just one field of study, but to master them all, to reign supreme above knowledge, to keep your mind wide open to new possibilities, similarities and contradictions.
You overvalue your own capacities and undervalue the needs and difficulties of your subject.
(also refer to the first post for this)

How did you get here?

(read picture from right to left)

So. Many. Possible. Reasons.

  • it’s a cage. The idea of doing just one thing for the rest of your life scares you and you feel imprisoned at the thought of it
  • you know that you could be outstanding if you applied yourself
  • you know that you could be even more outstanding if you became accomplished in multiple fields
  • you want to find connections between fields nobody’s ever considered before
  • you feel like you’ve wasted your last few years and need to catch up to others
  • you’re afraid that you’re not good enough
  • you’re afraid of being ignorant
  • you’re arrogant

No matter the reason (I’ve gone through them all), people caught in this state of mind shovel more and more onto their plate.
And then wonder why they can’t swallow it all.

What do you think you’re doing?

A labour of love, most likely. You think you love languages and sciences and athletics and programming and cooking and hanging out with friends and being alone and so you just want to do it all!
You don’t want to limit yourself! You don’t want to lose any time! But there’s just so much and you have so little energy and ugh, if only I wasn’t destined for greatness, then I could relax like other little people, but no, I need to keep pushing! In every! Direction! At the same! Time!

I know your delusion. I’ve been there. You imagine yourself to be that one perfect friend who gets up at 6am, watches the sun rise, does yoga, eats a healthy breakfast, goes for a quick run, comes back home, answers all correspondence, is artistic for a few hours, then scientific for a few hours, then social for a few hours and ends the day with tiny masterpieces in each area, goes out with friends or family to grab a healthy dinner and goes to sleep, happy and balanced :)

Well, you know what, my starry-eyed friend?

What are you actually doing?

You’re the mental equivalent of a social butterfly.
You’re being fucking disrespectful.

You’re always on the run and never able to really commit to anything, because you’ve already scheduled something else afterwards. You’re shallow, deluded, that one friend that always comes in running, screaming “Besties  ~ ♥” and everyone shifts uncomfortably in their seats and smiles a painful smile and humours you, because they know you mean well, but they also know that you know nothing about them. 
You’ve never been there for them ever, but always expect them to be there for you. Whenever they want to talk about themselves, you nod and then proceed to about yourself and your plans and “ohmygosh, this is so nice, we need to meet more often ~ ♥ “. But at least you mean well, so they’ve agreed to keep it simple and on the “The weather is nice today”-level with you. 

But here you are, wondering why you’re not making any progress.
Mysterious.

So what do I do?

Well, you need to go from this:

To this:

How? More on that below.


2) Undereager Debasement

What is it?

This stage is what happens when you notice that your lofty ideals from Overeager Debasement cannot be fulfilled. You turn bitter, hateful, cold. You think you’re a failure, you think you were too soft. Instead of wanting to be friends with everyone, you now want to rule over everyone, fuck what they want.

You’re burnt out. You’re done. You just want to get through these stupid classes and catch a goddamn break, goddamnit.

And you WILL get through. You’re too proud to do anything else. But you don’t really care about any of it.
You just want to make it.

How did you get here?

If you were a good student, you probably heard at some point or another that you were “different” and that your complex and mysterious ways were not understandable and definitely not achievable for your average classmate.

Most people who tell you this mean well. A few want to make fun of you, but most actually do mean it as a compliment. But they don’t know how dangerous it is to hear it again and again, because regardless of whether it’s true or not, you start to believe it.
You start to believe that somehow, you have a higher calling, a higher standard. And you start to long for that day when your high standards will be met - when you will go to that one mysterious class where everyone is just as eager as you are, where the “Oh, captain, my captain!”-teacher will spark a fire in your brain that will never go out and when your ominous “gifts” can finally be put to good use for the prosperous future of mankind.


And you work.

And work.

And the class never comes.

You feel the weight on your shoulders when teachers talk of “high expectations”, you feel it crush you a little bit every time your friends tease you about your genuine fear that you might not get an A, that you might lose it all, that your “gifts” could disappear and you’ll be stranded and useless and you put in the hours, you work your ass off to keep that high standard, all in the hope of having that one miraculous class that never comes.

I realized that that class would never come when I entered university.

University, I’d told myself, would be my Arcadia, my Eden, my academic paradise where all my hard work would be rewarded!
Instead, I only found more drudgery, more incompetent professors, more disinterested students and even more bureacracy. To say that I was “disappointed” would be putting it very lightly.

I became disoriented and disenchanted. I realized that I could get through most classes with half-assed effort, I was hardly ever challenged, I floated along and hated every second of it. I blamed my boring teachers, the imperfect system, the teachers who had given me hope only for me to watch it crash and go up in flames.

What do you think you’re doing?

Being badass, cool and detached, most likely.

You dream of yourself as a master and your subjects as slaves. They bow to your will, they dance to your tune, you command them with the snap of a finger.

“Look, you slave of the system”, you say, lying on a velvet sofa, “Look, at how it hardly takes any effort for me to pass these classes! Look at how I spend my time doing things I actually like and that are actually worth it, unlike these stupidly easy classes taught by stupidly incompetent professors in a stupidly screwed-up system! Look at me, being edgy and drowning in self-hatred because I can physically feel myself gliding off the rails that made me so “special” and becoming one of the average people in the masses, haha. Ha. Ha. Screw academia, but still give me good grades, amirite?”

I know your delusion. I’ve been there. You imagine yourself to be that one perfect friend that never studies for classes, comes for three lectures per semester and still manages to get perfect grades because everything you do in school is, like, so five years ago. That one friend who has read all the classics in their spare time, has conquered and enslaved all the knowledge actually worth knowing, will quote obscure Polish philosophers you’ve never heard of and plays the piano with a perfect pitch. They’re the wisest, most culture-non-conforming people you know - they’ve been up until 5am, wandering the streets and drinking vodka from a bottle while forcefully pentrating the mysteries of the universe all by themselves until they finally fall asleep on a park bench and awake with an epiphany about Klein bottles.
They’re “special”.

What are you actually doing?

Caring more about appearing “special” than actually trying to be “special”, that’s what you’re doing.

But, look, what made you so “special” and “different” in the first place was not a “calling” or “gifts” or the fact that you wrote good grades and were destined for greatness.

Here’s a handy chart I’ll use later - you were lucky enough to fall into the green zone, lucky enough to be born with an innate respect and a love for learning. That’s what made you “special”. That’s what made you succeed. Not pressure, not warped ideals and certainly not the fear of failure.


But somewhere along the way you forgot that and only focussed on the results. You started to believe yourself to be so special that everybody else should cater to you.
The fancy titles, the awe-struck looks, the “You’re so amazing”s and the “The genius of a decade”, the planned Nobel prize speech and the prestige, the dream others had lovingly created for you and you had slowly absorbed and warped as your own? It got to you. Hell, it got to me.
And it became more important than learning itself.
Somewhere along the way, you and I, we became an arrogant and lazy assholes.

You looked down on your easy courses and homework and instead of recognising how lucky you are, doing it in a minute and a half and then putting in the extra work on top to dig deeper and to maybe contribute something of value and fun, you threw it aside with a snide remark as beneath you.
Of course it wasn’t fun. Of course it wasn’t challenging. You never even tried to make it either.

(And don’t get me wrong: I honestly do think that the education system as it is right now needs MAJOR reforms. But right now? It is what it is. And instead of making the best of it and doing what you once loved so much, you succumbed to societal pressures you found yourself unable to fulfill and said “meh”.
You cared so much about the fame and the title that the relationship itself didn’t matter.)

But this isn’t the master-slave relationship you imagine it to be.
It’s a trophy-friendship. Once upon a time, you got on really well with this person and other people loved your friendship. You fell in love with the ideal, with their connections, their money, their prestige, their name on a CV, and you stuck around just for that.
You valiantly ignore the reality of the state of things between you two
and take them out only when absolutely needed, only when things are this close to falling apart and so you keep walking a fine, fine line.
Whenever a deadline approaches, you shower them with attention and love and, gingerly, they open up to you and you see a depth and complexity to them that astounds you and makes you think “Imagine! Imagine how much more I could have seen if only I’d started earlier?”
But the moment the crisis has passed, you toss them aside once again.

Because this is enough to make your name.
You may not remember much about these nights or about the person at all, but the only thing that counts is that it will fulfill your “special” prophecy and make you a legend, right?

Well, always remember this:
(read picture from right to left)

You’re not “special” if you made it to university. You’re not “special” if you’ve made your name. 
It comes down to a simple choice: do you value appearances over integrity or the other way round? Do you dare to look like a fumbling idiot again when you start something new? Is the “appearing like an idiot”-part more important to you than the “learning/creating something new”-part? 
Have a think about it.

3) Worship

“Alright”, you’ll say, “Alright. I get it. So I’ll treat my “friends”/subjects with respect and integrity and I’ll take all the time and concentration I can bestow upon them, just as I would upon real friends. But do you want me to be like, uh - like…

What is it?

“…like one of those anime characters that lives only for their dream and gets up at like 6am, does the thing, talks about the thing, breathes the thing, goes to bed, dreams of the thing and then wakes up at 6am to do the thing?”

(Google: Did you mean Hinata Shouyou?

Yes, yes, I did, google.)

Well, no, I don’t want you to do that. See, that’s the other extreme and unless you’re an anime character, chances are that it won’t work out for you. 

How did you get here?

Personally, I was caught in this trap for a loooooong time. Anime offered me a new way of relating to my passions that neither my family nor my school had ever shown me: unabashed obsession.
I wanted to be perfect. I wanted to be obsessed. I wanted to give myself up to a higher ideal, something above human consciousness, something that would endure. I wanted to, well, get up at 6am, do the thing, talk about the thing, breathe the thing and so on - “the thing” in question being, of course, studying. I made elaborate plans, complicated lists, study-plans that shift on a daily basis and cover all grounds, I wanted to study for two hours before school, wanted to repeat lessons, wanted to give myself up to knowledge, made cool covers for my notebooks, made mock exams for my friends to use, planned to focus on each continent for a month and study it, planned to listen to one new composer each day, planned to go to the museum every week, planned to analyze Sherlock Holmes and think just like him, planned to - you get the idea.

I wanted to be like this:

What do you think you’re doing?

Being but a humble servant to the eternal workings of truth. Knowing thou art unworthy, yet suffering the perfection of study.

I wanted to go from 0 to 100, I wanted knowledge and wisdom to transform and deliver me, I wanted to feel enlightened, I wanted to feel my brain burning, pushing frontiers and breaking through to new horizons, I wanted to elevate myself to touch even the lowest levels of truth.
I wanted to do something noble, something worthwhile, something that could never be critisized and would always be valued, something with eternal meaning that would echo through the ages and I wanted to be even the tiniest cog in the machinery of mind.

What are you actually doing?

Being, quite simply, an idiot.

This is one of my favourite quotes (David Wong):

“There are two ways to dehumanize someone: by dismissing them, and by idolizing them.” 

The same goes for studying. As shown above, studying won’t work out if you do not treat your subjects with respect. Conversely, studying also won’t work if you continue to idolize it as work beyond all work and reproach, as the only true calling, as the realm of the genii and by self-flagellating yourself and repeating “I’m but a humble servant in your kingdom of reason and will never reach where you are, but will spend all my time trying to reach you.” 

Why? Because by saying “I’ll never reach you or be worthy of you”, you’ve already sealed your fate. Some students (no matter how well they actually perform) are stuck thinking that they are stupid and incapable of doing well. Others think that the trick is in the preparation and they undergo complicated rituals of finding exactly the right study spot, exactly the right study drink, exactly the right study time, etc. in the hope of channeling the connection between their godly subject and themselves, but it never turns out quite as glamorous as they’d hoped (once again, speaking from experience).

This is because you cannot force a true friendship if you think yourself unworthy of it. It will always be worship. 

And why are you worshipping?
Because it takes the pressure right off of you
. This always annoyed me about some of my fellow students. They treated becoming a good student as this miraculous and unlikely event that only happens to the #blessed.
I insisted that “no”, it could be done. “Yes”, it was hard work, but ultimately absolutely doable. But now that I’ve been in their shoes? I understand.
Admitting that you could have done it anytime implies failure on your part for not having done it. By saying “Oh no, it is so very complex and divine and a lowly worm like me could never hope to crawl in its shadows”, you shift the focus away from yourself and onto the thing itself. 

But this is a synthetic, manufactured relationship with a partner that does not even exist. It is, at its heart, a kyaa  ~ I hope senpai notices me! (๑♡⌓♡๑) - kind of relationship. It’s idolizing not a person’s true character, but their appearance, their aesthetic and the values that they represent for you. It’s not really listening to what they’re saying, but warping their words so they fit into your perfect idea of them.
Just, unlike with undereage debasement, you do not play pretend that everything’s fine and secretly hate the other person deep down - you honestly idolize them to heaven and back, so you could never possible reach them.
You’re using them to fill in the holes in your own personality.

And that … just isn’t fun? I dunno about you, but treating studying as something that must be done perfectly with exactly the right pen and the perfect face-mask after the right smoothie and in the right lighting by a window overgrown with ivy and with perfect concentration from the first moment and unwavering, knightly passion and exact planning from 6am to bedtime all because I know deep down that I will not be able to fulfill these ideals and thus don’t have to feel bad about not reaching them just … isn’t for me. I don’t like my relationships to be all overstructured and “perfect” and high maintenance like that.

I want my friendships and my studying to be authentic. And that means that sometimes it’s messy and sometimes it’s hard and sometimes it’s quoting Keats while lying on the floor at 2am in the morning and chugging milk out of a carton, but it’s real.
I truly do understand this longing to make studying look pretty and like a magical realm, because when you’re in the flow that’s really what it feels like. But the beauty comes along with the practice, not the other way round.

No, but honestly - what do I DO then?


Y’remember Hippogriffs from Harry Potter? That’s how I imagine my subjects. Approach them carefully, honestly, maintaining eye contact and as equals and they will respect you. This scene:

This scene is what I’m talking about. 
If you were in a worship-state, you would only admire them from afar, gushing over how beautiful they are, but sad that they would never deign to even look in your general direction. (think of all the subjects you thought would be way too difficult for you)
If you were in a debasement-state, you’d either try to make friends with all the hippogriffs, hopping from one to the other and forming no bond with either or you’d “tsk” disdainfully and try to force them to obey you against their will. (*cough* Malfoy *cough*)

If, however, you’re in the green, there will be mutual respect between you and you will be able to fly.

So what does it mean to be in the green? 
It means not to do any of the above, obviously, so 

  • take your time for and invest brainpower into each and every one of your subjects - be a good friend. Be there. Listen. Even if they have crazy ideas at 4am in the morning. 
  • appreciate your subjects and know that they are more than the teacher who tries to get you to know them. Sometimes, some people just have a really shitty PR department (especially maths)
  • don’t think too much or too little of yourself. You can do amazing things, but that does not give you the license not to do amazing things anymore, rest on your laurels and expect others to applaud you for it. 

  • some relationships take longer than others to build, but getting to understand someone who puzzled you from the first moment and challenged your beliefs will improve your own personality as well
    (side-eye at PE. Yes, I love you now, you crazy athletic bastard)
  • do it for the sake of the relationship itself, because you enjoy their company. Results are presents which, although very much appreciated, should not be the main motivator to keep you going.
    This essentially means that you should think of studying as hanging out with a friend - already makes it seem so much more inviting and way less daunting, does it not?

    (Logic and I, being saltmates. Real friends judge other people together)
  • be aware that all friendships go through rocky patches and some subjects might take a while to warm up to you or you to them. But if you think that it’s worth it, then you gotta power through that. If you don’t think it’s worth it, you gotta be brave enough to say good-bye. 


Look, what I’m actually saying is … be Souma Yukihira from Food Wars.

Food Wars is a crazy and at times pretty pervy manga/anime, but I’ll be damned if it isn’t also one of the best pieces of fiction I’ve ever consumed and if Souma isn’t one of the most admirable main characters I’ve ever encountered.  

The relationship between him and cooking is filled with trust, love and equality. He trusts his cooking skills, because he knows that they have spent a long time together - cooking won’t let him down and he won’t ever let cooking down by stopping to look for ways to improve.

That doesn’t mean, however, that he’s always deadly serious - he loves to play around with cooking and to try ridiculous new things. He never forgets the joy that even the simplest form of cooking brings him. 

There’s one great episode where he puts his life as a chef on the line and someone fearfully asks him what he’d do if he lost. He shrugs and says he could become a lawyer or a teacher or something. So while he loves cooking profoundly, he does not worship it and he knows that there are other relationships he could build up if he had to. He just …doesn’t want to, because cooking is his bff. 

He loves to take on challenges to see how far he and cooking have come -

- and he takes challenges very seriously -


- but takes it even more seriously if he loses -

- and nonetheless knows that they are stronger for the challenges they have faced together. 

So, yes, this is what it means to be in the green. Cherish your friendships, hang out together, be honest, funny, clever, curious and you. 

You’ll be surprised at how much fun the two of you will have, now that all the pretensions and pressures are gone. 

Just …hang out and have fun.

(and maybe watch Food Wars!, because damn, Souma is the MVP of my inspirational heroes)

Have a great day and I’ll see you in the next (and hopefully shorter) part 4 :)

Lost My Way. (Tom Holland.)

Originally posted by takemespidey

Requested – No. This is like my comeback, I’m also sorry if it sucks ass.

Prompt – Famous actor Tom Holland has been in the film industry for years now after making it big as Spiderman and he loses himself along the way.

Warning – Douchebag!Tom. Angst. Fluff at the end.  

Words – 2,097.

Requests?

The flashing lights headed towards Tom’s direction as he stood along the red carpet with his hand around his costar’s waist. He looked in her direction and noticed the smile on her face was fake. Almost everyone has a fake smile around the paparazzi and it was rare to find someone actually enjoying it. There once was a time when Tom could genuinely smile in front of cameras but that time is long gone.

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My Best Friend’s Sister (Part 2)

Originally posted by a-winchester-by-choice

Summary: The reader gets to know Jensen more at work but he wants to know what’s up with the Padalecki siblings…

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x reader (with sibling!Jared)

Word Count: 3,400ish

Warnings: language, sibling angst

A/N: I adore giggly Jensen…


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You carry the dead little fox
Your fingers are in its fur
And its corpse is right against your chest.
It is cold, and stiff, and light - 
It is merely a baby.
Life is unfair, you think
Who kills children?

The trees are high,
The ground is slippery
And the path is dark
But you walk and you hold it
Hold the dead little fox
So it doesn’t fall again.
Its cold is slowly reaching you
And it says: the little fox is dead
Why are you holding on to it so tightly?
But you can’t just walk past it and ignore it.
Life is unfair, you breathe
Who kills children?

You reach a clearing
The place is as beautiful
As the dead little fox.
There is no bloodstain on its fur, no wound
To tell the story of its death.
You pick flowers and cut your fingers
But it deserves your last ounce of love.
You talk to the little fox and you say:
It will be ok. You are safe now.

You do not have a shovel
But the clearing has a tree
And the grass is high.
Here, the dead little fox
Will rest forever with a crown
Of innocently tied buttercups.
You finally let go of its body
But something clings on to you.
Near your heart, death found its new home.
Life is unfair, you whisper
Who kills children?

You leave the dead little fox behind
In the clearing, in the grass, in the shadow of the tree
Your tears are warm
But your skin is marble cold.
The dead little fox reminded you of someone
She was younger than you – she even looked like you.  
She died one day and nobody noticed.
They did not bury her
And her corpse remained within you.
Your body is her graveyard:
There is a ghost haunting your head
And maggots eating your bones from the inside.

This is why you bury the dead creatures
That you meet in the forest.
This is why you take them in your arms
And cradle them till you find a beautiful clearing.
This is why you talk to them
When your throat is full of tears.
They remind you of the dead little girl
That no one tried to protect. No one saved her
They could have – but they let her die.    
So you carry dead little foxes against your chest
Like the child that you once were
For little corpses do not deserve to rot in the open light.
You shelter them one last time
And when you put flowers on their head
You cry and tell them that finally, they are safe.

The dead little fox is hidden in the clearing
And you are home, barely alive.
You think of the dead little girl.
Her pictures are on the walls of your house.
There was no bloodstain - the murder was clean.
That day, she still went back home on her shaking little legs
And they thought: she is alive.
They never took the time to really look at her -
They failed to notice that life was gone from her eyes.
You cradle yourself with your own weak arms
As if you could still reach her
But she has been dead for so long
That she has turned to dust within you.
Life is unfair, you cry
Who kills children?

—  Dead little beings. (k. m.)
Communing with the Dead

‘Tis Necromancy season! Autumn – the Dying Time – when the lines that bissect fade into a liminal channel. Of course, the Dead are never far from me, but not all share my inclinations. For those of you seeking temporary “admittance” into the world of the Dead, I’ve brought to you a ritual that might allow you to ride the boundary. In essence, it is similar in part to me previous post Walking on Water (about hedgeriding), though with the specific purpose of contacting the Cold Ones.

The process – in theory – is quite simple, though some will undoubtedly find it easier than others based on their own innate talents. Regardless, it should allow for contact in one form or another.


Things You Will Need:

A Shovel/Spade

Mugwort, dried

Wormwood, dried

Mullein, dried

Rolling Paper/Emptied Cigarette

Liquid Oil (of your choosing)

Preparation:

  1. Begin by drawing the following sigil on a square of paper. Burn the paper in a fire-safe dish or your working vessel – such as a pot or cauldron. Collect the ashes and add them to a few tablespoons of oil, mixing thoroughly. If you desire, you can warm the oil and add in some black wax shavings to give it a more robust, black color.
  2. Take your rolling paper/empty cigarette tube and roll or stuff with a mixture of the above herbs. Don’t worry – wormwood has a surprisingly light taste when smoked, nothing like its brewed taste. Feel free to add in lavender, bay, marigolds, or thyme for added flavor and effectiveness. Tobacco may also be added, as it too has connotations with the dead. If you are unfamiliar with rolling, smoking (though this blend – sans tobacco – should have little to no longstanding effects on health, as none are addictive, mullein has even been used to aid smokers in quitting) or prefer otherwise, they can be burned as a loose incense on a briquette – if you choose the latter root, I’d say opt as well for a bit of sandalwood.

Ritual:

  1. When night has set in and you’ve made your preparations, take your oil, smoke/incense and shovel/spade to a nearby graveyard – one that is comforting and secluded being the best, though if you wish to make contact with a particular spirit, it would be ideal to go to their grave (if possible). Pay the Gatekeeper, and make your way to the center or a crossroads if one exists. Once you have found an appropriate location that suits you, take your shovel (this is why seclusion is best – you don’t want to get thrown in the pokey for “attempted grave-robbing”) and dig into the earth. You don’t need to dig far, only six inches or so, loosening the dirt. Remove your shoes.
  2. Center yourself, taking a few deep breaths. Light your cigarette/incense, breathing in the smoke (for those of you who aren’t seasoned smokers, do not breath the smoke directly into your lungs – first draw it into your mouth, then into the lungs… unless there also happens to be marijuana involved, in which case, straight to the lungs). Close your eyes, calm yourself and relax. Don’t let the graveyard intimidate you. When you feel ready – slip your feet into the earth, covering them with the removed dirt. Pat the oil onto the lids of your eyes – using it in moderation. It will makes your eyes feel strange and your lashes stick together – but only momentarily.
  3. Verbalize your request. Ask that you might be allowed (temporary) entry into realm of the Dead. If you wish to speak to a specific person, ask them (nicely) to present themselves. The Dead are not seen with the eyes – remember that. And pay close attention to your intuition. You will feel their presence when they arrive. Trust yourself and your abilities and you should have no problem. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to bring an offering to leave for their help.
  4. When you are finished, remove your feet from the soil and replace the moved dirt. Drizzle the remaining oil over the earth, and thank them again for their help and guidance. As is customary, take three steps back, turn around and do not look back as you walk away.
Nouveau Départ  | 01

Originally posted by theking-or-thekid

humor | angst | smut | fluff | smartalec!jungkook | spoiled!reader

word count: 3.9k                                                                                                              

Its January, the start of another shitty year at Mendia High and your vivacious parents are coming in 2 months for a report on how you’re doing in the aspects of grades, reputation and of course the long awaited–dating. This means 8.7 weeks to change your attitude–60 days to pull up your grades–1,440 hours to land a decent boyfriend. There is nobody decent enough to help you–therefore you have no choice but to turn to the schools’ derisive dweeb, Jeon Jungkook. Watch yourself struggle to cope with the smart-assed boy as he tries to transform you into a changed lady that everyone would look at differently.”                                                                     


“You feel so good princess–keep going.” your best friends’ groans of pleasure filled the room and you were damn sure any by-passer would look at you dead-dirty if you even dared to exit the small and clustered room at this time.  

“Oh shut up, you make it seem like i’m giving you a blowjob or some shit. Cut it out.” you grit out, making sure to press a bit harder than usual on the sensitive part of his neck. Feeling your nails press into his jugular–he pitches up in pain, a variety of obscene curses fly your way. “Do that one more time and I swear to God i’ll pull you over my lap and spank the shit out of you.”

Your pupils take a trip to the back of your head,  resurfacing rapidly, and you lightly hit the back of your best friend’s head. Yoongi was an uptight bitch sometimes. A downright petty one at that too. That’s why you found yourself giving him a back massage in the janitors closet, probably people coming up with many wild scenarios that their saint-like minds couldn’t handle when they try to put the puzzle pieces together. But hey, this was your best friend. 

Unfortunately, you lost a bet to the grudge-keeper two weeks ago. The deal was that if any of the new freshman could get laid at a party the week they came, Yoongi would get a back massage from you–along with the fact that you had to compliment him anytime he asked for the rest of the school year. If he lost, he would take you anywhere you want and let you buy, anything you wanted. Well, you guess you could say–Yoongi knew his shit.

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OMGCP characters as things my parents have said or done
  • <p> <b><p></b> <b>Bitty:</b> "Can you help me find the old peanut jar we cleaned out? I made chrysanthemum tea and need to give some to your cousin but can't use a good container because Lord knows that that girl never gives back anything we lend her."<p/><b>Jack:</b> "If I tell your mom that this rock is a fossil do you think she'll let me keep it? ... No, it's not really a fossil I just think it's pretty."<p/><b>Shitty:</b> *Dad walks down the stairs shirtless, makes eye contact with me* "Well it's not like I actually need a shirt right now." *Walks away* <p/><b>Lardo:</b> *Mom walks up behind Dad with a pair of scissors as he washes the dishes and cuts straight up the back of his shirt* "This shirt was way too old. It was time for it to die."<p/><b>Ransom:</b> "Honey, did you update the freezer inventory spreadsheet? I'm missing a fish and have an undocumented loaf of bread."<p/><b>Holster:</b> *Dad knocks on my closed bedroom door* "I have finally found your snow gloves, you have no excuse. Do you want to build a snowman?"<p/><b>Nursey:</b> "I don't understand why your mom is so worked up - the snow was going to be shoveled anyways, why couldn't we lie in it first? I mean, it's fluffy."<p/><b>Dex:</b> "Have you seen the mini staple gun? I need it to fix the water filter because your mother cranked it too hard and it broke again. Duct tape only works for so long."<p/><b>Chowder:</b> *Mom, 40+, gets carded at the liquor store* "While I'm flattered, I can't tell if you're joking or just blind."<p/><b>Bad Bob:</b> "Are you ready for bed? Good. Let's see how many of the NHL team names you can get right before you fall asleep. Go on, get under the covers and let's start on the west coast."<p/><b>Alicia:</b> "Mom, I look like a lumpy potato" "A very cute lumpy potato, now, let me send this baby picture to all your relatives."<p/><b>Kent:</b> *Dad rolls down the windows and blares Celine Dion* "My heart will, go on and ooooooooooooon"<p/></p><b>Tater:</b> "Dad, mom's making fried rice for dinner." *Dad, exaggerating to make fun of his own accent* "Ah yes, fly lice. Very good. Gahlic Fly Lice"<p/><p/></p>

Aisle 13

by Justina Ireland


It’s two days before the last day of school, and I’m sitting in my Combatives class ready to die of boredom.  Mr. Vaughn is showing a demonstration video on how to slay a basilisk. Again. It was the last question on our final. Only half of us got it right.

I was not one of the lucky few.

No one is paying attention as the warrior in the party uses her reflective shield to distract the basilisk while a mage makes a big deal about putting the creature down with a sleep spell.  We’re all talking and thinking about the summer.

“What did you get in here?” Jeb asks from across the row.

“C,” I say.  “What about you?”

“D minus,” he says, waving his test at me.  His ears droop a little like a chastised puppy. Demons are so sensitive.

I shrug.  “At least you dodged a bullet. No summer school.”

“Yeah,” Jeb looks down at his test morosely.  “But still, you can’t kill a basilisk?  Who knew they were an endangered species?”

Mr. Vaughn is clip-clopping across the front of the room now, arms crossed as he gives one of his “these are skills for the real world” lectures once again. As fun as it is to watch a centaur go off on a tear, I’m over Mr. Vaughn and I’m over this school year.  

I don’t really care about the test, but I do hate when Jeb gets all emo.  “Look, we’re never going to use this anyway.  No one goes adventuring anymore.”

He nods and incinerates his test with a simple fire spell.  No one even glances at him.

“What are you doing this summer?” he asks after a long while, his voice low. He’s still bummed about his bad grade. Maybe I’ll take him out for frozen yogurt after school.  Cheer him up. Sprinkles would cheer anyone up.

I slouch down in my desk, stretching with a yawn.  Mr. Vaughn has given up on his lecture and has retreated to his desk to eat an apple someone brought him.  He’s much calmer now.  It’s probably the apple.  Centaurs freaking love apples.

“Nothing dude,” I say, finally answering Jeb’s question.  “Absolutely nothing.”

*****

The second day of summer vacation my mom tells me I need to get a job.

We’re sitting at dinner eating Mom’s famous tavern stew, which is really just a bunch of random things boiled down to mush.  She’s still dressed in her work clothes: low cut white gown and flower crown.  I asked her once why the clinic makes her wear such a ridiculous outfit, and she just shrugged and said “It’s tradition. This is how healers dress.”  The men have an outfit that is just as stupid, tight white breeches and a flowy tunic, but I still think it sucks that my mom has to dress like a sex object to help people. Like, where is the self-respect in that?

“So, Caitlyn, what are your plans for summer?” Mom asks as I’m about to shovel in some of her stew.  My mouth is full so I just shrug and say “Uhnano.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? No big plans?” Mom is giving me this tight smile that means she wants a specific answer, but I have no idea what she’s looking for here.  It’s summer.  It’s two and a half months of not thinking about magic spells or chemistry or monster identification or algebra or anything, really.  So why is she hassling me?

“I was thinking of maybe taking my mage’s test or something,” I say, hoping it’s enough to distract Mom from whatever she’s about.  Dad isn’t even paying attention to the conversation. As usual he’s nose deep in Berserker Weekly.  Dad used to be this big time adventurer, walking through forests and bashing in heads for fun and profit.  That’s where he met Mom.  I think he saved her from an evil wizard or a druidic cult or something. It was a long time ago, though, and now he mainly consults for a living.

“Oh, that’s a good idea.  After you get your license maybe you could call Marcus and see if he’ll let you work in the Hex shop.  I mean, you should really get a job this summer.  Don’t you agree, Brock?”

A frown creases Dad’s dark face but he grunts in assent.

I take another bite of stew and look down at the bowl to avoid answering. There’s no way I’m going to work in my Uncle Marcus’s Hex shop. The thought of untangling curses all summer makes me want to turn myself into a frog and hide out in the forest.  Not to mention that my Uncle Marcus is the cheapest man alive.  I’d be lucky if he even paid me.

Mom pushes her bowl of stew away and jumps to her feet.  “Good! Caitlyn, I’ll send Marcus a note letting him know you’ll be there tomorrow bright and early—”

“I don’t want to work in the Hex shop. It’s gross.”

Mom stops and turns to me slowly.  Her skin is pale as usual but two spots of color have appeared high on her cheeks.  She is pissed.  “Removing hexes is not gross.  Your uncle gives those people their lives back.”

“A woman with boils all over her face is pretty gross, Mom.”  Last year when I had to pick a concentration Mom took me to see Marcus to convince me to pick cursework because it pays pretty well.  I chose spellweaving instead.  I’d rather work in a factory making love charms or fire spells than to have to turn frogs back into snotty princes all day.

Mom purses her lips and turns to my Dad.  “Brock, will you please talk some sense into your daughter?”

“Cursework is disgusting, Mel,” Dad says, lowering his paper.  “Why can’t the girl go adventuring like everyone else her age?”

“No one goes adventuring anymore, Dad,” I say.  Because it’s true. Adventuring is something your parents make you do because they don’t understand that it isn’t cool to slay dragons anymore or that maidens can rescue themselves.

I mean, adventuring is just so lame. Walking around, looking for a prophecy to fulfill, and then working really hard for something that may or may not come true? Yawn. I have better things to do.

“No one goes adventuring, huh?” Dad and Mom exchange a look, like they’re about to laugh at some inside joke.  Then Dad raises his paper again.  “Either way, you’re not going to sit around the house all summer and play video games.  Get a job, Caity-Bird, and if you can’t find one then your mother will call Marcus and you can spend all summer waking princesses.”

And that’s how I end up working at the Shop Quick.

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mobile masterlist

since the last one i posted is now so outdated oml

LAST UPDATED- 12/29/16

headcanon tag

inspiration tag

playlist tag

fic rec tag

Marvel

Bucky Barnes

Drabbles

Oneshots

Frank Castle

Drabbles

Oneshots

Peter Maximoff

Drabbles

Pietro Maximoff

Drabbles

Oneshots

Series

sick day (complete)

Hank McCoy

Drabbles

Oneshots

Series

caught in the act (complete)

hiraeth (incomplete)

Matt Murdock

Drabbles

Oneshots

Foggy Nelson

Drabbles

Steve Rogers

Oneshots

Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes (poly)

Drabbles

Series

it’s the same old dream (incomplete)

Alex Summers

Drabbles

Scott Summers

Drabbles

Kurt Wagner

Drabbles

Oneshots

Warren Worthington III

Drabbles

DC

Dick Grayson

Drabbles

Clark Kent

Drabbles

  • the firsts (drabble series) (part i)

Sara Lance

Drabbles

Ray Palmer

Drabbles

Jason Todd

Series

eros (incomplete)

Wally West

Drabbles

Bruce Wayne

Drabbles

Meeting The Family

Modern AU

George Washington x Reader ft. kiddo hamilsquad

Author(s): Lil Laddie

Words: 1725

Warnings: Swearing, a bit cliche, kissing

Request: HI! Can I request a Christmas one with the dialouge number 2, and 26, with 18 and 19 for scenarios???? X’D WITH CHRIS/ GEORGE WASHINGTON PLEASE??? ILY

2: “Who keeps hanging all this damn mistletoe everywhere?” 

26: “WHAT DO YOU MEAN SANTA ISNT REAL???”

18: Getting stuck under the mistletoe

19: Christmas w/ Kids

A/N: I hope this is close to what you were looking for! I had a really fun time writing it. Thanks again for requesting! But I’m sorry guys that I haven’t been posting often lately. My immune system has like completely shut down, so I keep getting really sick. Sorry about that, but on a happier note…WE ARE 10 FOLLOWERS AWAY FROM 300! We’re really excited about this and want to do something special for it. I don’t know if anybody actually reads these notes, but please let us know if you’d like us to do an open ask time or really any kind of fun lil celebration thing with you guys. If we don’t hear anything then we’re probably not going to do it, but thank you lovelies! Hope your day is amazing and remember that holiday requests are open! I love ya’ll!


“Do you think they’ll like me?” You asked, nervously fidgeting your hands as you sat in your car on George’s driveway.

“Trust me, my kids will love you. They love anything that will listen to their crazy rants and stories.” George smiled reassuringly as he took your keys out of the ignition. “Come on, they can’t wait to meet you.”

You watched as George got out of the car and walked towards the porch of his house. You had been dating George for a while now and the holidays had finally rolled around. He had been begging for you to meet his many adopted children that he loved with all his heart. There wasn’t anything you had against meeting them, you were just deathly scared that they wouldn’t like you.

Unfortunately, when all the kids refused presents from Santa unless they could meet you, George put his foot down and set a date for you to come over. That date just so happened to be, Christmas Eve and Christmas day. That’s right, you could possibly be ruining one of their Christmas memories by just being there. This was a nightmare come to life.

“(Y/N)! Come on, I promise it won’t be that bad!” George called, beckoning you towards the door.

With one last deep calming breath, you marched over to him, adrenaline pumping through your veins.

“Okay, let’s do this.” You said, determined to make the best out of the situation.

George looked at you and smiled, taking your hand in his and squeezing it tightly. George took a deep breath before reaching for the doorknob. Little did you know that he was just as nervous as you were. He was completely panicked at the thought of the kids being too rambunctious for you to handle.

“Boys!” George called in the house as he opened the door.

There were a series of yells heard scattered across the house. This was followed by pounding footsteps coming from all directions. You squeezed George’s hand a little tighter as you saw them all run into the room one by one.

“Boys, this is (Y/N) (L/N). They’re the person you were so interested in meeting.” George smirked as the boys blushed at his words.

“We weren’t that interested!” One protested, his dark hair pulled in a tight ponytail.

“Mhm, sure…Anyways (Y/N), these are my boys.” He took his time introducing each of them and you weren’t sure if you were going to be able to remember all their names.

“It’s nice to meet you boys.” You smiled, all of them wearing shit eating grins.

“HAVE YOU HAD SEX WITH OUR DAD????” Alex screeched, running at you with excitement.

“DO YOU HAVE ANY KIDS???” John yelled, latching his arms around your waist.

“ARE YOU GOING TO MARRY OUR DAD???” Hercules’s voice boomed through the house loudly, especially for such a small boy.

“WILL YOU STAY FOREVER???” Laf jumped onto your back, nuzzling his face into your neck.

“OUR DAD KNOWS SANTA! DO YOU KNOW HIM TOO???” Thomas asked, his eyes flickering between you and George.

“DO YOU KNOW WHAT WE’RE GETTING FOR CHRISTMAS???” Aaron jumped over the other boys, hoping to gain your attention.

“I hope we don’t scare you away.” James said in between coughs, taking your hand that wasn’t holding George’s into his.

“BOYS!” George yelled, the boys stopped their flood of questions to look at him. “Enough with the ridiculous questions.” George sighed, thinking his kids had already scared you away.

“I don’t know if I can answer all those at once.” You giggled, looking at the rowdy boys around you. “Let me think…Yes we have and no I don’t have any kids. About the marriage thing, he’d have to ask first. I would stay forever if I could, Laf. Santa and I are freaking homies! I don’t know what you’re getting for Christmas, and no James, I don’t think you can scare me away.” They took in your answers, before they all took a deep breath to ask more questions.

“No more questions! You’ll have plenty of time to do that later! For now, let’s go make some dinner.” George said, ushering the boys towards the kitchen.

Without a word, they all began working in unison. You laughed, watching them take orders from George and and carrying them out with such precision. They were chopping vegetable and fruits, some were stirring pots or putting things in the oven. They were like little soldiers.

“What would you like me to do, General Washington?” You asked with a mock salute.

“No guest of mine is helping in the kitchen. Go sit down at the table, dinner will be done in a moment.” George pushed you towards the table that John and Alex were supposed to be setting.

“So, how old are you two?” You asked, taking a seat at the dining table.

“I’m eight and John is ten.” Alex said, folding the last of the napkins

“Are you all pretty close to your dad?” You asked, watching as their faces lit up at the mention of George.

“We spend a lot of time with our dad. He’s the one that got us all out of foster care and orphanages, we owe a lot to him.” John smiled at the memory.

“Did you hang them all up?” Thomas asked, walking into the room.

“Yeah we did.” Alex said, the three boys sharing a mischievous grin.

“What did you three do?” You raised an eyebrow at the suspicious boys.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” Thomas smirked, taking a seat next to you at the table. “I believe you will greatly appreciate it.”

Soon enough, everyone was seated around the table eating an amazing Christmas Eve dinner George and the boys had made. The boys watched and listened to you carefully the whole night. George had never brought someone home before, so there had to be something special about you.

“I think I’m going to catch Santa tonight.” Alex boasted, shoveling mountains of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

“I doubt you can catch Santa.” Aaron rolled his eyes.

“Oh yeah, why not?” Alex glared at him, holding his fork a bit tighter

“Because Santa’s not real, you idiot.” Aaron said smugly, half of the kids at the table looked up in shock.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN SANTA ISN’T REAL???” James screamed, tears beginning to well up in his eyes.

“Oh no…” You hear Hercules mutter, turning to glare at Aaron.

“James, uh…you see Santa…” George attempted, only to have more of the kids at the table begin to cry.

“Of course Santa is real!” You interject, signaling to George that you could handle this. “Santa works really hard to visit you kids each year. He’s probably getting his sleigh ready right now! But sometimes, to prove that a child’s faith in him can stay true, he tells other children to spread the word that he’s not real. All those who still have faith in him will never leave the nice list. Whenever someone tells you he’s not real, they’re actually testing you.”

“Really?” Thomas asked, his eyes puffy from crying.

“Trust me, Santa’s as real as you and me.” George said, smiling at how quickly you had turned the situation around. “Boys, go change into your PJs. (Y/N) and I will clean up the table and then we can watch some Christmas movie with you before bedtime.”

The boys looked at each other with smirks. They walked up the stairs and began laughing and giggling when they thought they were out of earshot.

“They’re up to something…” You trailed off, standing up to grab the dishes.

“They’re always up to something.” George chuckled, leading you back into the kitchen to wash the dishes.

After washing the dishes in comfortable silence, the two of you entered the living room to be met with a surprise. Every inch of the ceiling was covered in mistletoe. George looked around the room in shock while you tried to stifle your laugh.

“Who keeps hanging all this damn mistletoe everywhere?” George yelled, throwing his hands in the air.

“Keeps? Like this has happened multiple times?” You giggled at George’s pained expression.

“The boys kept trying to hang it everywhere before you came over.” George blushed.

“That’s cute, but I don’t know how to tell you this…” You trailed off, looking at the staircase behind George that was currently occupied by his kids.

“They’re too much for you aren’t they? I promise they’re not that bad, they were just really excited to meet you. Please, just hear me out on this.” George began to rant, the only thing that stopped it was your hand over his mouth.

“First off, I love the boys and their craziness. Secondly, I was going to tell you that we can’t break a Christmas tradition, it’ll bring us years of bad luck.” You smirked, pulling George close to you as the boys gasped in anticipation.

“Hm, well I don’t want to be a Scrooge.” George smiled, pulling you in for a light kiss.

The kiss was short and sweet, but then again there were all his kids behind you. As you pulled away, you could hear the excited cheers and almost whispers from the boys. George rolled his eyes, turning to watch them all run back up the stairs.

“I’m glad you like them. I’ve really wanted to combine the most important people in my life for a while.” George smiled, pulling you close to his side.

“I’m glad you forced me into this. I think this may be my best Christmas yet.” You put your head on his shoulder.

“Well, if you’d like, maybe this could be the first of many Christmases like this.” George suggested, his voice slightly nervous and strained.

“That’s an offer I’ll have to take.” You giggled, watching the boys peek around the corner to look at the two of you. “Besides, I don’t think I’d want to spend another holiday without you and your boys.”

Fifteen Hundred Miles (Burr x Reader)

Words: 2700+

Warnings: A small bit of cursing

A/N: I have decided that there aren’t enough burr imagines out there, so i made one! i am proud of this, so enjoy!


You’ve checked your wrist hundreds of times, seeing if your soulmate would get any closer to you. But since you were born, your wrist read 1500 miles, 1500 miles away from the one you were meant to be with, 1500 miles away from seeing their face.

It was strange, sometimes you thought that your clock was broken. It hasn’t changed in miles, so either you haven’t gone anywhere in ages, or the person didn’t move out of their one-mile radius.

Most of your friends found their soulmates, they were lucky enough to live within a hundred-mile radius of one another. But you, you weren’t so fortunate. You had states to travel, hundreds of dollars to spend to see them. You wondered whether it was worth it. But you saw the happiness on Elizabeth’s face when she met Alexander and their immediate connection that you continued to think otherwise.

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❝   john   mulaney   /   starter   sentences.

here   are   some   john   mulaney   starter   sentences !   you   know,   the   salt   and   pepper   diner   guy.   feel   free   to   change   the   pronouns   to   make   these   fit !

‘ you have the moral backbone of a chocolate éclair. ‘
‘ anyone who’s seen my dick and met my parents needs to die; i can’t have them roaming around. ‘
‘ i’ll keep all my emotions right here, and then one day i’ll die. ‘
‘ i was once on the phone with blockbuster video, which is a very old-fashioned sentence. ‘
‘ because bill clinton never forgets a bitch. ‘
‘ in terms of like, instant relief, canceling plans is like heroin. ‘
‘ excuse me: i am homeless. i am gay. i have aids. i’m new in town. ‘
‘ the more you do stuff, the better you get at dealing with how you still fail at it a lot of the time. ‘
‘ i’ll book a ticket on some garbage airline. i don’t wanna name an actual airline so lets make one up, lets just call it delta airlines. ‘
‘ i was always the squarest person in the cool room, and alternatively, sometimes the weirder person at the mainstream table. ‘
‘ i have a lot of stories about being a kid because it was the last time I was interesting. ‘
‘ why do people shush animals? they’ve never spoken. ‘
‘ comfort is everything. you start doing something and you want it to be perfect right away, but most babies are born ugly and then they shake it out and you get beautiful toddlers. ‘
‘ i’m a very lucky person. i’m an idiot, and i’ve shoveled through life rather nicely so far, so i don’t feel like i deserve good treatment. ‘
‘ i always thought that quicksand was gonna be a much bigger problem than it turned out to be. ‘
‘ one thing that the character mickey mouse is lacking is any personality traits whatsoever. ‘
‘ you can do good work simply staying up all night and eating nothing but junk food, but probably not in the long term. ‘
‘ you can’t always see both sides of the story. eventually, you have to pick a side and stick with it. no more equivocating. you have to commit. ‘

Simple Man (Part 3)

Originally posted by justjensenanddean

Summary: Reader and Dean might finally be starting to get along?…

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: cop!Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,900ish

Warnings: language

A/N: Last part later today!…


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Also I love how the drummer basically does nothing but drumming for the entire MV despite the other members helping. Shoveling coal? Nah man, that’s why we have a bassist. Let’s just play drums. Choosing a member to sacrifice? Not me, bro. Don’t you know the drummer is the backbone of the band. Holding the leader back so he doesn’t fall in the ocean? Not today. The two guitar kids do that just fine. If you need me, I’ll be in the middle background in the rainstorm on the rocking boat playin my drums. Try not to need me.

The Silent Treatment- Soonyoung (Hoshi) Fluff/Angst

Originally posted by kwontv

Request: Hey there! I see you want requests and I’m here for one ewe I hope you can make an angst but at the end very fluffy scenario with Hoshi where you two have a fight and start no talking to each other? I know im not being specific, don’t hate me ;n; You’re the best♡

Word Count:1135

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Member/Group: Soonyoung (Hoshi) of SEVENTEEN

Summary: Every couple fights, some just choose to handle it in a more childish way than others.

A/N: Hey ya’ll! I have a few drafts that I am beginning to work on, so expect some future works for BTS. Anyway, Hope you all enjoy this a bunch! xx


 It all started with a simple fight, really. When Soonyoung had left that morning, he had asked you to clean a shirt that he needed for a company dinner that night, and you being the forgetful person you were, had completely forgotten saying ‘yes’ in a sleepy haze. Obviously, you had not put the shirt in the washer before you had left to go to University, so you arrived home to a fuming and frantic Soonyoung hurriedly trying to use his blowdryer to get the shirt mildly dry before he had to rush out the door to meet with the CEO. No words had been exchanged between you, only somber gazes you sent his way as he sighed and shook his head. Before you even knew what was happening, you were yelling and dropping your bag on the ground as you stomped to your room and flopped onto the bed.

 “It’s not my fault, Soonyoung! You know I can’t remember things when I am given instructions at 6 o’clock in the morning! Maybe you should have texted me like a responsible adult would!” Your words, though filled with emotions, fell on deaf ears.

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