word discouragement

thatgirlonstage  asked:

My turn to have a Voltron dream! :D I had a dream that Lance and Keith got stuck inside a quarantined alien city because of some kind of plague. When the gates were about to open again the Galra attacked, they got separated, Lance was fighting when Lotor saw him. There was an actual swell of romantic music from Lotor's POV lol. Lotor saved him and then tried to get Lance to follow him but had to threaten him with a gun and took him to a romantic garden while the city literally burned behind them

Ooohmygoooods! :D That. That’s amazing. And so in character (or. well. what the fandom is assuming the character will be lol). Lotor has no sense of timing or context, it would absolutely not occur to him that romancing someone while the city burns is inappropriate. Hell he might even think it adds to the romance.
I have a really vivid image of Lotor presenting Lance with some rose-like plant from the garden, feeling all gentleman-ly, meanwhile Lance is horrified, there are big dark plumes of smoke rising from everywhere around them, you can hear screams and explosions, and from behind a corner there’s Keith, who’s just managed to track down his bf Lance and is going pale as he realizes what trouble Lance is in. Priceless. XD
I. I need to draw this. I gotta. This is too good not to illustrate??? It’ll probably take forever, because 90% of the elements of this mental image I have are things that I do not. know how to draw. But what better opportunity to learn than this? X’D

Thank you so much for sharing this dream, it made my day! Also yay you having a Voltron dream! Who knows, maybe it’s only the first of many? :D

The Types and Their Level of Scariness
  • <p> <b>INTJ:</b> At first they might seem worrisome because of their intense stare and nihilistic sentiments, but all it takes is one harsh critique about something important to them and they'll crumble. Their bark is infinitely worse than their bite. Will write a series of salty "blind item" blog entries about you for months. 6/10; too passive-aggressive to be truly scary.<p/><b>INFJ:</b> Hard to get to know, but when they like you, they REALLY like you and you'd better not do anything to break their trust because all of those warm, fuzzy feelings will 180 into pure end-times-level wrath. If you've ever encountered an angry INFJ, you've seen the face of the devil himself. 10/10; scary af<p/><b>ENTJ:</b> While they're capable of verbally disemboweling someone they dislike, they won't actually come after you unless they're bored and feel like starting drama for shits and giggles. Threw a punch once and didn't like it too much. Will tell you to go choke on a bag of dicks with the biggest, brightest smile on their face. 6/10; scary only in theory<p/><b>ENFJ:</b> They love you so, SO much and they want you to do your absolute BEST at EVERYTHING you EVER do like REALLY really, so when you don't meet their expectations, they will get more and more assertive about you achieving your dreams (read: their dreams) until they eventually snap and stab you to death in your sleep. 9/10; file a restraining order and you might be okay.<p/><b>INTP:</b> Too lazy to truly get mad about anything. The only really scary thing about INTPs is their complete disregard for cleanliness. You'll find Chinese takeout boxes from six months ago covered in maggots by their bed, but you won't find nary a discouraging word coming out of their mouths. Only does damage to living things in RPGs. 2/10; scary hygiene but harmless.<p/><b>INFP:</b> Is someone who spends a lot of time writing poetry, getting drunk and crying hysterically about things that happened ten years ago really that scary? I mean, they'll probably throw a whiskey glass or a vase in your general direction and curse you out for a solid ten minutes, but then they'll go right back to crying in fetal position. 4/10; just walk away, dude.<p/><b>ENTP:</b> They'll fuck with you just for the sake of having something to do that day. They'll fuck with you sometimes for no reason whatsoever. They fuck with people because it's just in their nature. Occasionally they'll take things too far and you'll wind up in the hospital but probably never in a morgue. Might send you flowers during your hospital stay. 8/10; scary neurotic<p/><b>ENFP:</b> They're either your best friend or your worst enemy and there is literally no in-between. Sometimes they'll get mad at you for reasons you don't even understand. Rarely ever will they try to physically harm you, though. They'll just whine about "fake people" in their DeviantART journal and mope about for a long time before randomly deciding you're their friend again. 4/10; Super confusing but not scary.<p/><b>ISTJ:</b> The embodiment of "walk softly and carry a big stick". Will sit outside of your bedroom window for days with a shotgun, ready for you to make a wrong move so they can blow you to smithereens. Don't try calling the police, because they're probably a police officer or at least connected to one in some way. In other words, you're fucked. 10/10; lawful evil personified.<p/><b>ISFJ:</b> They love you with all their hearts but they also hate the things you do, ie "love the sin, hate the sinner". Usually harmless, but some of them quickly lose their shit when double-crossed. Might mix poison in your sweet tea and then bury you underneath a bed of roses in the backyard. Prays for your certainly-damned soul every night before supper. 7/10, only scary when provoked.<p/><b>ESTJ:</b> Their big mouths and intense, confrontational attitudes can put the fear of God into you, but for an ESTJ to truly be scary, they'd have to physically harm you and they don't want to jeopardize their careers over something that foolish. Will judge you hardcore from afar but that's about it. 5/10; talks shit but you won't get hit.<p/><b>ESFJ:</b> They're the undisputed champions of guilt-trips, and they'll guilt-trip you over things so incessantly that you might suffer a loss of self-worth in the process, which could lead to severe depression and no will to live. Will attend your post-suicide funeral in a really expensive dress and tell mourners how you could have "really been something". 6/10; scary shady<p/><b>ISTP:</b> No chill towards people they dislike. They will straight-up brutalize your ass in one-on-one combat and you will lose. Will put you in the hospital, wait until you've been released, and THEN put you in a morgue. Probably will laugh about killing you over cold ones with the boys for decades to come. 10/10; cold-blooded killers.<p/><b>ISFP:</b> There is no such thing as a scary ISFP. They might get hurt with you but they just let that shit go after a while. More likely to channel their negative feelings into an artistic outlet than something destructive. No time for pettiness or holding grudges. 0/10; anti-scary saviors<p/><b>ESTP:</b> Also has no chill towards people they dislike, but their hair-brained schemes at revenge are often poorly executed. Will threaten to "beat your ass" for months but won't actually do it unless they're drunk or high. Once they do get physically aggressive towards you though, you are deader than dead. 7/10; flee town before things escalate.<p/><b>ESFP:</b> Often incorrigibly shallow, they'll start rumors to sully the reputation of their enemies before they'd actually consider getting their hands dirty. Rarely ever starts fights but they sure do love jumping into other peoples' fights and finishing them. Will get one of their besties to film the entire beat-down and put it on Snapchat. Hair and makeup somehow stays flawless the entire time. 3/10; more petty than scary.<p/></p>

anonymous asked:

I feel like you haven’t had sex before or something because some of your reactinons aren't very realistic. If you're unexperienced why even bother writing?

Although I’m not comfortable with revealing the extent of my experience on here so publicly, I feel as though a lot of people hold a similar mindset and it’s something that I know holds a lot of potential writers back. So therefore to validate your assumption, no I have not. I don’t think you personally need to have experience to write what is categorized under as fan fiction despite it’s mature content. If you have the drive and desire to write, write. Regardless of what it is and whether you think you can follow through with it well, be it lack of personal experience or just underestimating your writing ability. That being said, yes, while I understand that my lack of experience might at times reflect in the reactions I write, I’m not simply going to stop writing. There’s a fine line between constructive criticism and outright discouragement and negativity. I appreciate you pointing out that my reactions may sometimes lack in being realistic as that is something I have been working on but saying I should stop writing is going too far. I’ve already seen how toxic Tumblr can be and quite frankly, I don’t want that negativity on my blog so please refrain from sending similar anons to me ever again, to anyone. It’s just downright rude and negative in every sense. 

be careful.

Not all plus size women are comfortable being called “FAT”

That word still bears a lot of hurtful memories for some plus size women who are taking strides to learn how to love their body.

For others the word “fat” is a sense of empowerment, it’s a powerful stance in the body acceptance movement, and they’re taking the word back.

However, some women are not comfortable describing their body like that. The negative connotation behind the word still discourages them and that needs to be noted.

If a plus size woman makes it clear to you that they are not comfortable with that word, and that the word hurts them please refrain from calling them that. Their road to body acceptance doesn’t apply to whatever set of rules you feel should be in place.

starduststarling  asked:

But how do you get Paid to write ;u;u;u; Asking for... a friend

A lot of odd jobs found here

some supplementary income from my patreon

One on one commissions like the ones that paid for Chevalier Noir (NSFW link)  

and a steady supply of beautiful, engaging romantic fiction from Voltage Entertainment USA 

I feel like it should be worth noting that I wrote for about 12 years for $0 beforehand to build up the skillset I currently have. I’m only 26, I’m still very young and inexperienced and while I’m a professional, I would never say I’m an expert. I have a lot of learning and growing yet to do.

anonymous asked:

I wanted you to know that there were no words to describe how happy and joyous I felt when I saw you back online. You were always one of the kindest individuals here, and it never felt intimidating talking to you as it feels with other big name blogs. With the way the fandom has split lately into cliques and not for the better, seeing you online has been a great comfort. I have been the biggest fan for a long time. Just had to tell you.

My dear anon,

Full disclosure: I wasn’t going to reply to this despite your very flattering words, which I appreciate from the bottom of my heart, but since you’ve also expressed a specific opinion on the state of our fandom, and done so via anonymity, I hesitated for quite a while because I wasn’t sure how to address the harder aspects of your words. Truth is, you are not the only message I’ve received about this lately since coming back online. So I’m replying to all of it, because I’m not willing to indulge the negativity any longer, especially since our fandom, at least on Tumblr, is already in a seemingly precarious state as it is.

Firstly, I am sorry that you feel that way. Truly. Even I can see that things have changed here. It’s quieter. Splintered. People have disappeared. Moved the bulk of their interactions to another platform. That’s none of my business. And if you don’t want to be a part of it, that’s none of your business too, sweet thing. We all do what we must do. I have friends and acquaintances in these various ‘cliques’, and it pains me to see judgment cast on them, as I’m sure the feelings they’ve induced in you are not done on purpose.

That’s not to say I’m unsympathetic: I get it. I really do. I have heard about these chats on separate apps, these ‘cliques’ I’m sure you’re referring to, and it probably seems at times like an exclusive club to an outsider’s point of view. Voices can get lost. Some are favoured more than others. People can feel ignored. I have not yet joined any of these groups, so I can’t comment on something I’m not a part of (and I’ve barely been back for a week!), but I can tell you that some of these people at least are very kind and welcoming. If there’s one thing I have always had faith in in this fandom, it’s in individuals who have shown time and again the quality of their characters. For strangers on the internet, some of them ain’t bad, babe. 

Have faith, friend. Not all of us are gone. It is discouraging to see such disunity. To see people scattering. Even I can lament who and what we’ve lost recently. But in fear of sounding like a pompous ass who struggles with this herself, we can’t pass judgement. Let’s try instead to rally and support one another, even if it happens off site. We gotta keep up that good fight. I, for one, will be here. So you’re never quite alone, dearest. 

Much love. Stay frosty. 💕


anonymous asked:

can u write one from josh's pov where he is madly in love with y/n but she's already got a boyfriend and he can't help but feel heartbroken knowing that josh is just always going to be y/n's best friend

authors note: all i could think when reading this prompt was Jim and Pam, so that’s kind of what I loosely based this off from. This is a longerish fic, hopefully what you were looking for.  Enjoy!


“Square up, Y/L/N, you’re going down.”

Josh hovered over your shoulder like a bug that just wouldn’t go away, muttering discouraging words into your ear, trying to distract you from the task at hand.  You had to admit he was doing a good job, because all you wanted to do was turn around and smack him, but you had to stay focused.  A bag of chips was on the line here.

You took a deep breath and pulled your arm back, nothing but sheer determination in your vision, and you let your paper airplane sail.  You watched as it flew through the air, coasting past the copier and fax machine, past the cluster of desks, past Josh’s airplane resting on the floor, until it hit the door to the break room and finally landed.

“Yes!” you shrieked, throwing your hands up in victory.  “I beat you by like four feet!”

Josh stares, stunned at how you managed to sail your paper airplane all the way across the office, but nonetheless, hands you over a dollar to get your bag of chips from the vending machines.

“You really should stop betting on things with me, I always win—“ you gloat, as you both make your way into the break room.

Josh leans against the vending machine, watching you select your favorite bag from the top row.  “No way, you can’t get rid of me that easily.”  

You laugh, shaking your head at Josh’s remark before opening your bag of chips and heading back to your desk.  

Josh watches you go, that familiar sinking feeling becoming prevalent in his stomach, just like every other time you walk away.  He takes a deep breath, trying to regain his right state of mind.  He loved the friendship you two shared, but sometimes he needed a minute to contain all the thoughts running through his head, otherwise his undying love for you might just slip out one of these days.

The hardest part of Josh’s day was at five o’clock, when your boyfriend would meet you at the door and walk out to the parking lot with you.  Josh would smile and wave goodbye, pretending like it didn’t burn every fiber of his being watching you lace your fingers with his and smile into his side as you exited the building.  Then, he’d slowly gather his things and head to his own car, wishing you were at his side.  

You and Josh had been friends ever since you started working in Columbus two years ago.  Two entire years, and Josh still swears it was the minute you walked in on your first day, a spot of dried toothpaste on your chin, that he fell completely in love with you.  

He spent that entire first week getting to know you, and the next planning out ways he could ask you out.  He’d never been more sure that he’d finally met the person he was meant to be with.  His soulmate, if you will.  Josh had been waiting in his car for your gray SUV to pull in one morning.   He planned on exiting at the same time as you, playing it off as a harmless coincidence, and then walking with you up to the third floor.  It was a cold December morning when he saw Lucas for the first time.  Then of course he didn’t know his name.  He knew the man as someone driving you to work, with broad shoulders and a trimmed beard.  He leaned over the center console and planted a kiss right on your lips before making a U-turn and exiting the parking lot.  Josh had let his head drop and made a beeline for the door, trying his best to ignore you calling his name and the gut-wrenching dread he felt.  

That was two years ago, and Josh still hadn’t moved on.  How could he when you sat only feet away from him?  Spreading your infectious laugh and always there to make him smile?  No, Josh hadn’t moved on.  Instead, he’d just learned to live with it.  He swallowed his feelings and instead focused on the friendship that you two shared, no matter how much it killed him inside.  It was always about more than friendship, and he knew it from the start. Even though that is what he loved most about you. Falling in love was quick, easy, inevitable. You would talk and laugh and be happy. If life is a series of moments, then it was those innocent instances that defined Josh for the longest time.

But falling also hurt.  You were his everything. And you were his best friend. You told each other everything, but he had to keep his biggest secret hidden from you.  On that first day, even if she didn’t remember it, he could see a future. Your future together. And for that split second he wanted nothing more than to kiss you, to forget about the rest of the world and focus on you. But there were no messing this up. This was you, and it was really just complicated.

Josh sat in his car in the parking lot the next morning eating his breakfast and occasionally warming up his hands in front of the air vents. Just as he was finishing off his bagel, there was a soft knock on his window. It took him half a second to realize it was you; your coat was zipped up to your chin and your beige scarf covered most of your face. Josh quickly got out of his car and you both exchanged hellos in the still-dark parking lot.

“What are you doing here so early?” he asks, shivering a little in the cold winter air.

“Lucas and I kind of had another spat last night and I wanted to get out before he woke up…" you trail off. Josh’s jaw clenches at the mention of his name.  ”What about you?“

“One of my biggest clients is a morning person, if I don’t call him by 8am sharp, his account is as good as closed, so I wanted to get here early and go over his file.”

“So you got here before the sunrise?”

“It’s a big file,” Josh says with a smile.

You chuckle and then looked over to the far end of the parking lot, “Hey, come with me.”

It was one of those commands Josh didn’t have to hear twice. He followed you, his hand in his pockets and his nose buried in his own scarf. You both walked over to the edge of the lot, and you stepped up on the curb, standing on your tip-toes. Josh furrowed his eyebrows.

“Come on, Josh,” you say playfully.

He laughed nervously before following your actions. He faced the direction you were facing and saw that through the fence there was a perfect view of the distance hills on the east side of town. The sky was thick and dark blue and the hills looked outlined with gold. The sun began to peek over the horizon and the buildings of Columbus went from grays to a bright mixture of yellows and oranges.

Josh glanced over at you as you looked at the view, smiling wide, the sun hitting your eyes. Josh could never quite tell, your eyes always looked hazel and sadly dull in the florescent light of the office, but for the first time his saw their true color: a brilliant green with splashes of brown near the center.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” you asked.

“Yeah, really is,” Josh says, still looking straight at you.

“We should go inside,” you said quietly, noticing his insistent stare from your corner view.  “I’m freezing.”

Josh nods, eyes lingering on the view a moment longer before he trails behind you inside the building.  

It’s habit, more than anything else, that has Josh lingering in the break room when he sees the tired lines in your face three days later. It’s instinct, to ask you if you want to talk. To take a seat at the table before he has a chance to consider the implications of what he’s just offered.

Besides, first and foremost, he’s your friend.

More than anything, he wants you to be happy.  And if there’s something he can do to ease the tension in your shoulders, to watch the frustrated crease in your brow fade back into familiar calm, then he will. Of course he will.

Being the one to elicit a smile from you is worth the cost of his own discomfort.

Patiently, he listens to your perspective on the misunderstanding between yourself and Lucas, he tries to detach himself from the situation enough to give you the sort of sincere and thoughtful advice he’d extend to anyone in that position. But he doesn’t want your thanks — your gratitude that much worse because it’s genuine.  

Josh had served as the backboard for you since he met you.  He was always around to listen.  Maybe he was imagining it, but it seemed like you and Lucas had been fighting more and more lately.  He hated seeing you upset on a daily basis in the break room and he tried to ignore the sliver of hope he felt inside.  

Apparently last night had been bad.  Josh can tell the minute he sees your puffy eyes and quivering lip.  

“What happened?” he asks, concern evident in his voice.

You shrug, trying to be brave, but the tears fall anyway.  “He threw a glass at the wall next to me last night.  He was drunk… muttering about how he thought I was cheating on him.”

“Oh my god—“ Josh said, gut dropping as he imagined how scared you must have been in that moment.

“I don’t think he’d ever hurt me or anything.  But I was scared.”

“What’d you do?” he asks, taking the seat at the table across from you.

You curled your hands around your mug of coffee, “I left.  Went to my moms.  I think it’s over.  I mean, it has to be, right?”

Josh wants to blurt out a gigantic yes, but instead he empathetically furrows his brows and nods softly, “I definitely don’t like the idea of you being scared.” And without thinking, he reaches his hand across the table and touches yours softly.  

Your eyes shoot down to where your hands touch, all of a sudden you feel so nervous.  You pull back and drag your coffee mug to your chest.  

“I should get back to work.”

Josh has a hard time focusing the rest of the day.  It was over.  You said that.  It was over and maybe, just maybe, Josh had a chance here.  He’d be your friend first, of course.  Just like it’d always had been.  He wouldn’t rush you.  But now he had a chance to prove how much you truly meant to him.  He was elated.  Lighter and more hopeful than he’d felt in months.  

It all comes crashing down with the sound of the office door opening and closing. Josh’s fists clench at his side the minute he sees Lucas walk through the doors.  He’s ready to get up and ward him off if necessary; the idea of him yelling at you makes his blood boil.  But he watches from his desk instead, as Lucas makes his way to you, gently tapping your shoulder and whispering something in your ear.  

Your initial reaction is wide eyes, filled with what is that?  Fear?  It fades quickly, morphs into anger.  Then sympathy.  Josh watches as you grab your coat from the back of your chair and willingly follow him up to reception.  You mutter something to the secretary before continuing out the door without looking back.  

“He apologized, and he really was just so sincere.  I think he really meant it.”

Josh nods and takes another swig of coffee, which was lukewarm by now.  He cringes.  

“Sounds it,” he says dully.  Not even he can fake enhance the amount of enthusiasm in his voice.  

“What’s that?” you ask, offended by his dull tone.

He looks at you and raises an eyebrow.  Disappointment and anger and frustration all boiling under the surface of his skin after seeing you and Lucas kissing in the parking lot again this morning, so he decides for the first time in a long time; to be honest.

“No, it’s just I’ve heard all of this before.  It gets a bit old is all.”

“It gets a bit old?” you repeat, stunned by his response.

“Yeah you and Lucas.  He does something nasty, you break up or contemplate breaking up, then he apologizes with roses or chocolates or what was it this time?  Perfume?  Same story, different version.  Can’t blame me for getting bored with it.”

And then Josh walks straight out of the break room and back to his desk, where there’s a light flashing on his phone.  He presses the button and pulls up a chair to listen to the voicemail.

“Hey Josh, it’s Craig from Corporate.  Meant to catch you before lunch, but I wanted to talk to you about a job opening here in Detroit.  It’d be a promotion for you.  More pay, more duties, all that.  Give me a call back with the details if you’re interested.  Thanks.”

It ended in the parking lot, the blooming seed of happiness that lived deep in his chest was fading, right next to his heart.  It was his best friend, his sole support, the girl of his life who made everything just a little bit better. It was you standing there, your jaw dropping with surprise and Josh with his entire heart and soul on the line.

It was Josh that changed the game. This game of yours, the little dance of just barely something more than friends.  He had nothing left to lose, because he couldn’t do it anymore.  So he gave himself an ultimatum.  Tell her you love her.  Tell her and if she turns you down, you can accept the job.  Tell her you love her.  Tell her and if she loves you back, you can live happily ever after.  

The words hang thickly in the air.  “I love you, Y/N.  I’ve loved you since the day I met you.”

You stand still in your spot, eyes watering and eyebrows furrowed with confusion and surprise.  And for a quick second, Josh thinks you might say it back.  But then you drop your clenched fist to your side and you let out a loud, inconvenient sigh and it’s amazing how quick his gut picks up on the rejection.  It drops as you start muttering about how “you can’t” and  “you have a boyfriend.”

“Listen, Josh—“

But that’s all. Because Josh clearly doesn’t want to listen. His hands wrap around you and Lucas has never held you like you’re this precious.  It’s gentle  and firm, warm and large, pulling you softly towards him, gathering you, even as his mouth falls against yours, just as lightly, just a hint of pressure and you feel so small against him, against this unspoken message that he loves you. And it’s powerful.

“Josh—“ you say, finally pulling back.  

He freezes, jerks away, his hands still gentle, even as his eyes are screaming, those big brown eyes that love you. “You’re really going to be with him?”

Your ‘yes’ is locked into your throat and tears fill your eyes, but somehow you can’t look away as you destroys your best friend from the inside out. There are a million reasons to stay with Lucas and only one to leave him, because you maybe love Josh, but you maybe don’t love Josh, and it’s that thought that makes you nod.  


You can’t blame him when he walks away, when he holds on to your hands for as long as possible, even as he can’t look you in the eyes. You want him to look at you. You want him to fight for you, but you know that’s unfair to ask him. But you don’t want to lose him and you somehow know you’re going to and you need him to understand, but before you know it… he’s gone.

It’s not as if you’ve never seen his desk without him sitting there, because of course you have. He’s stayed home sick, made occasional use of his vacation days, gone on client calls — you know what the office looks like when the shape of him is missing, it’s the permanence of it that hurts.  

As you settle in that first day of Josh’s absence, you hang your coat up and take a seat, You let yourself miss him as a coworker and as a best friend and that’s it. Work will be work, with or without Josh Dun.

But that’s a lie, because of course it hurts like hell.

Each day it’s harder, when it starts to sink in that this doesn’t mean a handful of days out recovering from the flu or visiting his family, but that there is a new and permanent Josh-sized hole in the fabric of you. So you play sudoku to avoid noticing the absence of his voice and

you doodle in notebook margins during conference room meetings to ignore all the jokes he can’t whisper in your ear.  

As the day goes on, regret floods deeper within you.  You always knew Josh was your best friend.  But you probably always always knew he was more than that too.  You just wished you’d been brave enough to see that.

That night you break up with Lucas.  This time, there’s no yelling or screaming or wine glasses thrown against the wall.  It’s respectable and understood that they are just not meant to be.  You thought there’d be a Lucas-sized hole inside of you now too, but there’s not.  Instead, it just makes room for Josh’s hole to grow bigger.  

It’s twenty past five and you’ve got your coat on and bag in hand when the phone rings.

You debate for a moment about answering it — after all, technically you shouldn’t even still be here.

But, well, you are still there, so it’s equal parts obligation and impulse that has you reaching for the handset and saying, “Hello?” with a slightly tired edge in your tone.

“Uh, hey.”

And — oh, oh.

“Oh my god.”


“Um… Hi.”

Witty. Clever. Exactly the kind of thing you’d imagined herself saying to Josh when you finally reconnected after too-many-weeks of silence.

“Sorry, I needed a number from Mark.  It’s a co-client thing—”


“—and I was just gonna leave a voicemail, because I didn’t think anyone would be there.”

It’s hard not to wonder if Josh had been making an open effort to avoid you on purpose, if he’d waited to call until twenty past five because you were supposed to be gone and he’s supposed to get an machine instead.  

“Why are you still there?”

“I had to work late.” And then, because that sounds flimsy, goes on. “Well I didn’t have to, but there were just some open files I wanted to finish up.”

“Wow,” he says, the faint tone of amusement in his voice.  “Wow, they’ve really changed you Y/L/N.  Going above and beyond, that’s not you.”

And you’re smiling—because it’s Josh and you aren’t sure your face is capable of behaving any other way around him—but there’s something nervous and careful in the lines of your expression that isn’t usually there. You’ve missed him, but knows that a subtle shift occurred in their relationship that can’t be undone, that things might never be as easy as they once were.

“Everything else is pretty much the same here.” Except—god, no—of course it isn’t.


You change up your previous statement. “A little different.” Because you need him to understand that even though the routines of the office cycle on, no part of that environment could ever be the same to you without him there. Then you ask, “what time is it there?”

“…What time is it here?” He pauses, something uncertain and unsure in his tone. “Um, we’re in the same time zone.”

“Oh, yeah, right.”

“How far apart did you think we were?”

“I don’t know,” you mutter, embarrassed. “It feels really far.” And you can hear his thoughtful, quiet agreement that suggests it’s more than just the miles dividing Columbus and Detroit that’s currently between them.

It took you until the next morning to get your act together.  You were walking into the building, the sun rising across the lot, and you felt it.  A crumpled up piece of paper in your pocket.  You gripped it in your fist before pulling it out, unwrapping the paper and trying to make out the scrubbed words.

You can’t get rid of me that easy.” It was a note from Josh.  One from back before the airplane competition, where they’d bet on how many green M&M’s were in the jar resting on reception.  You’d beat him easily, leaving time to gloat on how he should just give up on betting against you, cause you always won, just like you did every other time you two bet on something.  Josh had left the note on your desk with the soda you’d won.  

You could feel the tears surfacing, blurring your vision as you turned in your spot and starting walking all the way back to your car.  You opened the note up again after you’d sat in the driver’s seat, unfolding the paper and running your hands over Josh’s scratchy scrawl and letting yourself feel what was long overdue.  It all floods in at once.  The despair, the guilt, the regret.  But also the love and admiration and memories of laughing, smiling, feeling lighter than ever around him.  

You didn’t think twice as you flicked your blinker on to turn onto the highway headed towards Detroit.

The city was so close down the road, you could see the outline of hazy buildings out of the window.  You stared diligently ahead, running through what you were going to exactly say to Josh when the time came.  But before you knew it, you were pulling into the parking lot of the Detroit branch, sliding into the spot beside Josh’s car as an automatic reflex, and you still had no idea what you were doing, what you would say. Yet your feet trudged up to the front door, almost like a little girl who knew that you had to admit to your mother that you’d smashed her favorite vase, because it had to be done, you just weren’t quite ready for the aftermath. There were no obstacles now.  No Lucas or unacknowledged feelings and you were sure that’s what scared you the most. What if, after all this time, Josh had just had enough?  What if you just weren’t meant to be?

You walked right up to reception, waiting until the woman hung up the phone before telling her you were here to see Josh.

“Y/N?” his familiar voice rings through the air and when you look over, you can see him taking off his headset and standing up from his desk.  “What are you doing here?” There’s a hint of curiosity and surprise and maybe even a little excitement in his voice.  

You couldn’t tell him here.  You had to go somewhere more private.  

“Could we um, talk?” you say quietly, offering him the slightest smile even amidst your nerves.

“Yeah,” he says, “let me just grab my coat—“ he motions back towards his desk with his thumb, where you see his familiar dark blue fabric hanging off from the back of his chair.  You wait patiently with your arms crossed across your chest, bouncing on the backs of your heels.

“All set?” he says, hand buried deep within his pockets.

You walk down to the parking lot in silence, still pondering what you were going to say to Josh in your head.  

“How’s Detroit?” you asked after thanking him for holding the door open for you.  You wanted to stall as long as possible.

Josh chuckles, “Common, Y/N.  You didn’t drive three and a half hours to Detroit to ask me how the city is.”

You blush, of course you didn’t.  But you still didn’t know what to say to him.  To Josh.  The man you loved, completely and wholly, with everything inside of you.

You could feel your cheeks growing hot as you thought about what you were about to admit.  You’d had so much courage built up inside of you before, but now, it was quickly draining.  You had to say it before you were completely empty.

“I miss you.”

Your heart’s still thumping like crazy, banging against your ribs, and you’re not entirely sure what you just said.

And Josh didn’t say anything back to you, but it wasn’t like you said all the stuff that you were thinking to him.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you continue, your voice wavering.

Josh shakes his head. “I’m okay.“

You nod. There’s a silence, long enough that you worry you’re not going to be able to say it all and nothing will happen and you’ll go back to being scared and afraid. You want to be someone who says what they feel.

“It’s just— the office isn’t the same and… I miss you.  I miss you a lot, Josh. I miss my best friend.”

“It can’t be that way again, Y/N,” he says. “I wasn’t your best friend. I was in love with you.”

“We could be friends now. Just go back to the way things were—“ you weren’t sure why you were burying your feelings again, but it was instinctual.  

"No,” he says. He’s standing so still, arms at his sides.  ”What you miss – that wasn’t friends. That was us… that was me being something more. All the time. And I can’t do that anymore.  It hurt too much.”

You feel kind of sick, but a little voice in the back of your head says you should be grateful for whatever happened, because it was better than being endlessly, endlessly quiet.

“Then I’m really sorry,” you say at last. “Because I miss that.”

“What do you think that means?” he asks, and there’s a little heat in his voice. “What do you think you’re really missing?”

This morning you would have undoubtedly ducked your head and avoided the question, or flat-out lied. Now though, you had driven three and a half hours and you’re standing in front of Josh, far enough away that you have to speak up for him to hear.

“I know what it means,” you say quietly. “And you know.”

He shakes his head, “I don’t. You’ve made it clear you only wanted to be friends.”

“I don’t think I’ve made anything clear,” you say, and for the first time you have the urge to move closer, speak more softly, because this is the hard part, the thing you couldn’t say in front of everyone else. “I should have been honest a long time ago, and I know that, but I couldn’t until I knew what I wanted.”

“Do you?” he asks after a moment, his voice low. “Know?”

You take a big breath, letting the oxygen go to your head, willing back the feeling you had just before you ran up to the third floor. “I want to feel the way I did when I was with you, back before you moved to Detroit.  I don’t want to be lonely, and I want to redo the past two years except it made me figure out a lot of things about myself, so I don’t know. I want stuff to be easy, Josh, and it isn’t, and I thought that maybe if we could be friends again I could have one thing in my life that made me happy, even if it wasn’t what I really wanted.”

He’s quiet for a long time. The wind whips against you, making you shiver.

“Why can’t you say it?” he asks.

“Would anything change if I did?”

“I don’t know, everything changed when I said it.”

“Fuck it,” you say, the cold air filling your lungs, “I love you.  I have loved you but I was with Lucas and I was afraid and I didn’t know it.  And I’m still afraid, but I know it now.”

You stare and wait for his reaction, hoping with everything inside of you that you weren’t too late.  But the look on Josh’s face, the sad, almost pitiful stare, gave you reason to believe that you were.

And your courage drained for good.

“I’m sorry,” you said, wiping a tear falling down your cheek, “I shouldn’t have come.  I’m gonna get going.  It was nice to see you,” you mumble before turning away and heading towards your car.

When Josh saw you turn away, it was as if lightning struck him. All he could see was your back, stiff and tense, walking back towards your car, parked near his, and suddenly he didn’t know what he was doing. He didn’t know how it had come to this. The last several months had turned you both into people he didn’t even recognize anymore, and he blamed himself.

You were all he ever wanted. You were the one he saw in his dreams and imagined in his fantasies for years on end, and he had you. It was supposed to be forever, but all he seemed to do anymore was hurt you. The Josh from six weeks ago would absolutely kill him for that. The Josh from six weeks ago would feel about him like he used to feel about Lucas. Lucas took you for granted, and didn’t consider your feelings.

Like Josh was doing now.

He sprinted toward you, his long legs reaching yours in just a couple of long strides, and he grabbed your arm to turn you around. You had no idea what was happening, but he didn’t stop to explain. He simply wrapped his arms all the way around you, and held you close. You didn’t resist, but you didn’t reciprocate immediately. He pulled you closer. He buried his face in your hair, nuzzled into your neck, and tried to breathe you in. He remembered the electric shock of when you first met (for him, anyway), how it felt to love you and not be able to have you.  He couldn’t let himself let it slip away.

You finally wrapped your arms around him, and he felt a small shudder go through you. You pulled back and he could see your face crumple just before you took his face in both hands and kissed him. When you parted, you were both smiling as said, “I love you” in unison.  He hugged her so tightly he almost picked you up off from the ground.

No Matter What

Writer - @damndescendants

Requested - @suuny96 

Hello!!! Can I request an imagine where the reader finds out her parents are getting a divorce and she hides it from everyone? She’s on Uma’s crew and is dating Harry. One day she decides to try and tell him about it but he was upset about something after he snaps at the reader, the reader goes and talks to Uma about everything that’s happening with her parents. The reader has bad anxiety and she tells Uma that she doesn’t see the point on living anymore. After she tells her that, the reader walks off and Uma is mad at Harry for not listening. Uma confronts Harry about it and she tells him what the reader is going through and just said. Worried that the reader is going to try and self harm, they look for her. They find the reader in time and Harry apologizes for what happened earlier and the reader then tells him more of what’s going on and he comforts her. My summer has been a one hellish summer. If you could write this for me, it will make my summer a bit better. Thank you!!

Disclaimer - I do not own any of Descendants’ characters and/or ideas all credit goes to the creator and producers of Disney Descendants

Pairing - Harry Hook x Reader

Summary – A huge misunderstanding almost leads to a bigger problem.

Warning(s) - Self-harm, Talking badly about oneself, yelling, abuse, swearing

Originally posted by ehdsisjado

Keep reading

Dorks and Dopes

Summary: I wonder how Logan and Roman spend their days off.

Warnings: none. This is pure fluffy cuteness.

A/N: Idk how this turned into a “prompt fill per day” thing but here we go. I’m not sure why but I wrote this from Patton’s perspective. The alliteration in the title is supposed to be a reference to a certain game but I’m not smart oops. Anyway,I don’t feel too great about this one, but I hope you enjoy! (Tag list at the end)

Keep reading


Wasted Chances (King Ezekiel x reader)

Summary: The reader is in love with Ezekiel, but unsure if it’s wise to tell him. So instead, she just vaguely mentions she’s in love with someone. Misunderstandings ensue, but are quickly followed by a fluffy ending.

A/N: I know I know I know. This is super super corny and cliché but I can’t help it.

Word count: 1,965

(Y/N) = your name

Warnings: a kiss, a hint of jealousy, a super cliché plot


* * *

Ever since you were living in the kingdom, that provided you with enough food, safety and a warm bed, you found yourself at liberty to be craving something else than just the things that kept you alive. Or rather someone… and that someone happened to be your king. With every interaction, and those were quite frequently, you fell a bit more in love with him.

Against all reason.

Maybe it was because he was so protective of you. He made you feel safe in times of chaos and uncertainty. Maybe it was because he treated you with nothing but respect and kindness, despite him being in a higher position… or maybe it was because you spent your nights dreaming about his warm brown eyes, only to look into them when he greeted you the next morning.

Now, after realizing how hopeless it was, you were trying to be invisible at all costs. You didn’t want to reveal anything about your feelings in front of him, mainly because you were sure he wasn’t interested in a relationship with you, but also because… what would you do if you were rejected by the king? That was the worst-case scenario. You would never be able to face him again.

You really needed to get over that pathetic crush on him.

Right when you thought that, you caught sight of him and Jerry walking in the general direction you were in. He hadn’t seen you yet, so you quickly started leaving, pretending to be grabbing something you needed for your work in the gardens today. Your sudden movement must have been what gave away your position.

„(Y/N)!“ he called after you.

You cursed silently but turned around, acting as though you hadn’t noticed him earlier. “Oh, your majesty, good morning! I didn’t see you.”

He smiled, making a few steps towards you. “And here I thought you were avoiding me.”

“Why would I do that?” You laughed not very convincingly. “I guess we’re just both busy…”

“Well, nonetheless I have the feeling there is something… bothering you.” Ezekiel raised an eyebrow, then looked at his companion. “Jerry, please give us a moment.”

You had no idea how he knew of your condition, you barely saw him lately thanks to your amazing hiding skills and ignorance tactics. But maybe it was written all over your face. You were so bad at acting normal around him that it must be pretty obvious. Another small part of you thought that he might just be concerned about you. Not that you dared to get your hopes up.

When Jerry had left, you picked up the conversation. “Oh, you don’t need to worry about me…”

“So there is, in fact, something bothering you?”

You sighed. “Well, it’s just a silly problem really, nothing you need to be concerned about. I’m sure you have more pressing issues to attend to.”

“Not in this very moment.” He frowned. “And furthermore, I’m under the impression that you don’t want to talk about what’s troubling you. Is it because you don’t trust me?”

“No!” you immediately objected. “It’s just… so silly. I don’t want to waste your time.”

“You could never waste my time, (Y/N),” he assured you. “Are we not friends?”

Friends. The word discouraged you but then again you couldn’t back away now that you had opened your mouth. “Of course we are.”

“Then tell me what’s on your mind and I shall decide if it’s silly or not.”

You caught his gaze, his warm eyes looking into yours – full of concern and genuine affection. You could just tell him the truth right now, get it off your chest in an instant, but the result was uncertain and you didn’t want to risk the delicate bond between the two of you. So maybe, if you were as vague as possible, he wouldn’t notice and you wouldn’t have to lie either.

“If you insist…”

“I insist upon helping you, yes. Come on, we shall have a seat on that bench and then you can elaborate.”

You chuckled nervously but sat down next to him. Maybe avoiding him hadn’t been the best strategy, after all. He wouldn’t just stop being nice and caring.

“So?” he asked, calmly, a smile on his lips.

You took a deep breath. “There is… this man.”

“This man…”

“Yes, a man from the Kingdom, of course. We’ve known each other for a while… and I think… I think I might be in love with him.” You looked at your king, noticing that he seemed to be slightly confused. You took that as a good sign, apparently he didn’t see through it. “But I am pretty sure that he doesn’t feel the same way. The thing is, whenever we see each other, he is so nice to me, I’d like to believe that he is nicer to me than to anyone else, but I’m certain he only sees me as a friend.”

Ezekiel hesitated a moment before he answered. “Why are you certain?”

“Because he said so once.” Like, a minute ago.

“Do you want to tell me who he is?” he asked. “Maybe I can… help.”

You shook your head. “I think it’s better to keep it secret. I wouldn’t be able to face him if he somehow knew how I felt.”

“I understand.” He seemed lost in thoughts, but then took a deep breath and looked at you intently. “My dear (Y/N), I cannot imagine anyone who wouldn’t be intrigued by you. Don’t think so little of yourself, I’m sure he didn’t mean to hurt you with his words but wanted to show you how appreciative he is to have you in his life. If you truly love him, you should find the courage to be honest. I’m sure he finds you just as endearing as I do. If not, I shall have a word with him.”

You chuckled, although his words impressed you and you didn’t know what to think of them. Endearing. “But maybe I shouldn’t tell him. I don’t even know if he wants a relationship at all… even if he does like me.”

“You don’t plan to tell him?” he questioned.

“No, to be honest I don’t.”

“It is your decision, but let me give you a piece of advice… Realizing you wasted a chance can hit you harder than rejection. I speak from experience.” He seemed a bit melancholic at that but then he suddenly stood up. “Now, let’s move on to our day’s work. And, for the record, your matter wasn’t silly. Please know that your happiness is of highest importance to me.”

He turned around with one last smile, but you noticed that he still seemed to act a little strange. You wondered if… just maybe… he did feel the same for you. His words echoed in your head as you watched him leave. I’m sure he finds you just as endearing as I do. Please know that your happiness is of highest importance to me.

Well, that conversation just left you even more confused.

Ezekiel was jealous. Oh boy was he jealous. All this time, he was convinced that there was no one. That you would eventually be with him. He had wanted to give you time because he knew you had gone through a lot and opening up wasn’t so easy. Additionally, he thought that in times like these, relationships were a risk and he needed to make sure it was worth taking it.

Well, it definitely was with you. That much he had realized through your confession. A bit too late, though.

But he hadn’t noticed you were falling for someone else. Ezekiel had had the feeling you were avoiding him lately, but now he knew that you weren’t. You just weren’t that interested in him anymore… because of that other man.

He was a leader, which meant he had to be objective. He loved every single person in the Kingdom and it was far from his mind to have a grudge against someone here without reason. But that man you had been talking about… He wanted you to be happy, without any doubts, but he couldn’t help the burning jealousy he felt.

So he observed you over the next few days, whenever he had a minute to spare, in order to find out who you were in love with. The strange thing was that you never really talked to anyone who was qualified to be the man you loved. And you had said ‘man’.

Ezekiel thought that you might have given up on him, but then one day he saw you standing around with Richard. You were having a conversation, a funny one apparently, because you were laughing with him. Richard was without any doubt flirting with you and he also noticed that he had rarely ever seen you laughing like this.

It had to be him.

But right as he was sure that it had to be Richard, he noticed that you didn’t reciprocate the flirting, that you stopped laughing after a few minutes and didn’t show any signs of timidity nor affection. Moreover, Ezekiel knew for a fact that you and Richard rarely saw each other, mostly because he was often with him.

In that moment, you caught sight of Ezekiel but you quickly looked away. You then quickly ended your conversation with Richard and got back to work. Because he didn’t know what to make of this, Ezekiel decided to just ask you.

This time, you couldn’t act as if you hadn’t noticed him, obviously. So you greeted him with a genuine smile. But still you noticed that he seemed a bit tense.

“Can I help you, your majesty?” you asked sweetly.

“No, I just wanted to check up on you. But it seems to be going well with Richard…”

You furrowed your brow. “Richard? God, no! I was just helping him with something.”

“Oh, I’m sorry…”

“No, it’s alright. I didn’t make any progress in terms of… love.” You blushed at that word. “But I thought a lot about what you said.”

“Did you come to a conclusion?”

You still felt your cheeks glowing. “You told me that wasted chances are worse than rejection… and I’m afraid you’re right. I tried to avoid him to see if my feelings might just go away. But they didn’t… and I missed him, too. So I think the only way is to tell him.”

He looked a bit sad at your words. “Who is he, (Y/N)? I want to be honest with you, I tried to find out but there doesn’t seem to be anyone…”

You laughed. “Why did you do that?”

He seemed to be confused by your question. “Because I… Wait, why are you laughing?”

“Because you wouldn’t have found anyone… except if you’d have taken a look in the mirror.”

Then it seemed to dawn upon him. The biggest smile showed on his face and you were beyond relieved at his reaction. After what he had said a while ago, you had suspected that he liked you as well, and now even the last bit of your uncertainty vanished.

He shook his head incredulously. “You could have told me.”

“I just did,” you replied with a smile. “I just needed to be sure…”

He made a step towards you and pulled you close, startling you in the best possible way. Your heart beat faster and faster as his face came closer until his lips brushed yours. His hesitation made you smile against his lips. It seemed that in times like these, it’s more common to hesitate than to act impulsively. But maybe it was all about intuition.

So you kissed him harder, making sure that there was no room left for any insecurities.

anonymous asked:

Could I request a scenario with Oikawa where his s/o calls him up one night crying and how he would calm them down? Also, I love your writing! I love it so much that I check your blog every day to see if you've posted anything XD

Thank you very much! This is also probably super late, sorry! And omg you check everyday? I’m so sorry for making you wait so long between uploads then! I’m trying to write more!

-Admin Zee

Buzz Buzz Buzz

The incessant buzzing of a phone woke up the exhausted setter and reached blindly for the now lit up device. Oikawa groggily opened his eyes and slowly rubbed the sleep from his eyes to make out who was calling him at such an ungodly hour in the morning. His eyes widened at the sight of your name on caller id and picks up without a moments hesitance.

“Hello? _______?”

“O-oikawa…” The brunet was immediately jolted awake at the sound of you sobbing and immediately knew that something was amiss.

“_________? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

It took you a little while to explain to the brunet, through all the sniffles and sobs, but Oikawa eventually figured out what you were saying. You had been stressed for the longest time and you finally broke under the pressure when you couldn’t figure out a simple math problem.

“__________, it’s alright. Everything’s going to be okay.” However, his words didn’t seem to be getting through to you since he could still hear you crying and mumbling discouraging words to yourself. He knew you were prone to keeping your feelings locked inside yourself, but ever since you two got together you were doing better with being more open with your feelings. But this showed that there was still a lot you kept from him.

The brunet setter’s heart ached painful at the sound of your crying and desperately wished he could be by your side to hold you in his arms to chase all your fears away. “Hey, _______.” His voice was soft so he wouldn’t cause you more panic and you answered with a quiet sniff.

“Can you do something for me? I want you to go lie in bed and hug the pusheen plushie I gave you.”

He could hear you shuffling some things around and the click of your lamp turning off, then the rustling of your blankets as you crawled into bed. “That’s a good girl. I want you to wipe away those tears, even though you probably still look absolutely stunning with them.” He hears a quiet giggle from you which makes him smile and he lays down in bed, hugging the matching plushie he gave to you.

The sound of your sniffles die down, signaling that he was in fact calming you down at least a little bit. “__________, sweetheart? I want to tell you a story, okay?” Oikawa hears you make a sound of acknowledgement and he clears his throat.

“Once upon a time, there lived an incredibly talented girl. She had many friends that cared for her and many people that looked up to her. She also had a loving boyfriend that would do anything to see her happy.”

Again you giggled softly over the phone, figuring out that this story was about you.

“But one day the girl burst into tears and no one could figure out why until her boyfriend rushed to her side. He found out that she was keeping so many things to herself and finally things got too much for her. Her boyfriend wiped away her tears and said, ‘You can always tell me anything, I’ll support you and help you any way I can even if it means dropping everything I’m doing. You don’t have to hide everything away. So many people care and want to help you.’ “

“The girl realized that he was right. She had many friends that would help if she just asked. He held her close to him and said, ‘Please don’t keep everything bottled away. Let me help you get through this, sweetheart.’ The girl smiled and wiped the remaining tears away. From that day forth, the girl asked for help when she needed it and talked to her boyfriend about the troubles that gnawed away at her until they became insignificant. And she lived a very happy life. The End.”

“Thank you for helping me, Tooru.” Your voice was quiet, but Oikawa could tell that you were no longer crying. “I’ll always have time for you, _________. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, sweetheart.”

“Good night, Tooru. I love you.”

“Good night, my sweet angel. I love you too.”

“Take me to church,” you said.

“I can’t. You know how I feel about churches. How people pretend they can chain their gods inside stone when the majesty of nature is all around them. And far more real.”

“So? That didn’t stop you last time.”

“I know. But after @denmysterywoman - I’m not sure churches are worth that kind of petty aggravation.”

“… I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“You’re safer not knowing. Trust me. Now let’s go our home on the range where no anon discouraging word can be heard.”

These things are real, and they need to be heard:

- “Life is like a piano. The white keys represent happiness and the black keys represent sadness. But as you go through life, remember that the black keys make music too.” ~Unknown

-“You have been criticizing yourself for years, and it hasn’t worked. Try approving of yourself and see what happens.” ~Louise L. Hay

-No matter how bad you might think you are at something, your passions are valid and they deserve support. Take care of yourself :)

-“No shame in starting and working my way up. Success is defined by you.” ~Unknown

-Everything will be fine. Hang in there, dear. Don’t worry yourself.

-Strength comes from within.

-Happiness will come to you.

-“Relax. Breathe. It’s okay, you have time. Take it day by day and allow things to unfold as they’re meant to. Your life will happen according to its own timing, and you will become the person you’re meant to be.” ~Nicole Addison

-Everything is going to be okay.

-Keep going. Be you. Stay strong.

-Shoutout to you, who continues to move forward despite all the discouraging words that come your way. You’re doing a great job! You are very strong and I couldn’t be prouder.

-“Move out of your comfort zone. You can only grow if you are willing to feel awkward and uncomfortable when you try something new.” ~Brian Tracy

-Better things are coming.

-You are beautiful. I hope you know just how beautiful you are.

-Tomorrow is a new day.

-You are so much lovelier than you think.

-Find your own way.

-“It’s difficult but it’s not impossible. You can do this.”

-“And whatever you do, I hope you find peace. Within yourself, from others, and from what made you act so small. The minds of the weak will only ever talk about others, maybe it is time for life to press on and you to be free. Revolve your life around yourself for once, and leave others to be entirely happy.” ~Amy Kennedy

-The best is yet to come.

What You’ll Need:
- just you, exactly how you are
- a mirror
- your heart, no matter how broken or strong

Step #1: Apply all of your aesthetics. This includes those glasses you have avoided wearing, the smile that you resist to hide your braces, the kinkiness of your hair that you were told needed to be straightened, the beauty mark posed on your cheek, and so on. You tend to mask yourself around the company of others, but allow yourself to expose what you were demanded to hide.

Step #2: Get that heart of yours ready to encounter a person it may have developed an opposition for. Whatever state your heart may be in, prepare it for a flood of emotions that may either soften the hardness your heart has, seep through the cracks that remind you of your previous pain, or have a flood so vicious that the pieces to your shattered heart sink or resurface in the pool of diverse emotions. Prepare your heart to feel because when it comes to your self image, the heart always has a reaction.

Step #3: With heart in preparation, sit yourself in front of a mirror and look into your eyes. Not at the small indents your pores create, not at the freckles sporadically scattered throughout, not at your lips, not at your nose as if you can get away with avoiding your eyes, no. Look in your eyes, deep inside them. You want someone to compliment the breathtaking pools that waver slightly in the center of your eyes, yet you don’t even stare into them yourself. Do more than just a quick glance and don’t shy away either. Your eyes tell such a powerful story, a story that your mouth sometimes refuses to tell. Look deep at the pain so heavy in your eyes, reminding you of all of those nights where you swore your place on earth was based off of an accident. Look even deeper at the strength you claim you don’t have even when you continue to fill your lungs with air. Look even deeper at the cries of help your eyes have screamed many times before, yet no one noticed, which led you to having to answer the cry yourself. Those moments where you had to be there for yourself because that message your powerful eyes have announced was dismissed by the world around you. Look deeper at moments like those where your eyes celebrate the fact that you have not given up and with that, look at the victory you won everyday by continuing to wake up, providing yourself the opportunity to see the day where your story makes an inspirational mark on someone else’s motivation. Stare not at yourself, but at your eyes. May your heart feel every sentence those eyes of yours speak.

#Step 4: Be silent for as long as you’d like as you stare at your eyes in the mirror. Continue the moment where you and yourself meet once again. Just remember that, yes, those eyes are powerful, but remember that your tongue is, too. Receive the message of your eyes, but speak back to it, for your tongue holds the power of life and the power of death. Too many times have you spoken the most calamitous words that could soil your heart while you were looking in the mirror. Too many times have you called out every flaw and blamed them for poisoning your chance to be beautiful. Too many times have you interrupted every opportunity to encourage yourself by ripping out your hair and smashing your teeth because you were convinced that there was no future for you to encourage. Enough of that. Enough of all of it. That’s not why you have a tongue, so you can beat yourself up with its words. No, it’s there to bring life and healing and you say you’ve always wanted to hear those sweet words, but you’ve shut your mouth when it came time to say them. Enough of that. Make no room for words of discouragement, but make no room for silence, either. Respond back to your eyes in the most powerful way possible and finally, speak life. Speak to the pain that is hidden in the pools of your eyes and thank it for pushing you to gain strength. Speak to the strength in your eyes and tell it that there’s going to be more where that came from. Speak to the cries of help that still hope for rescue and answer it by stating your commitment to always be there for yourself, to be gentle with yourself and to answer your eyes’ cry with the reminder that a victory is going to come from this. Speak to the small party your eyes hold, celebrating that your history in the making will continue to make victories, just by your strength to wake up every morning. Don’t hold back. Respond to the story your eyes tell with words that will make great chapters in your book. Continue to speak words of encouragement and of life.

Step #5: Control your tongue for the next step. It’s so used to speaking words of hatred, but the training to speak life starts right now.

Step #6: Now, it’s time to speak to your reflection - to the glasses on your face, to the size of your nose, to the freckles scattered from your forehead to your chin, to the beauty mark on your cheek, to the braces on your teeth, all of it. For so long, you have been comfortable with your own mouth assailing your reflection, along with being comfortable with your heart turning away in disgust. It’s time to reverse the normalcy of that. The bondage of that normalcy has to be broken. After responding to your eyes, it’s time to speak to what many consider as flaws and apologize to them for wishing on their nonexistence because the despondency of wishing that parts of your body would be gone is intense. Look at the glasses hanging from your nose and thank the design and the lens for giving you better chances to see. Look at your nose, no matter the size, inhale deeply and exhale slowly and thank it for assisting your breathing and allowing you to smell the sweetness of the day. Look at your freckles and thank it for uniqueness, for there’s no other pattern that could imitate it exactly. Look at the beauty mark on your cheek and ponder on how true the meaning of it is. It’s a beautiful mark made just for you and it’s been waiting for your words to remind it of its beauty. Smile. Smile as wide as you possibly can and look at those beautiful set of teeth, decorated with braces or not, and thank it for its contagion, for when you smile, others can’t help but to show theirs, too. The uniqueness that originates from its presence is priceless. Why discourage something so beautiful?

Step #7: After you are finished with encouraging yourself in the mirror, after you have said all that you wanted to say and cried all the tears you wanted to cry, leave the mirror and compliment yourself without a reflection. Feeling beautiful is more than just an outward thing, but it must take place on the inside, too, which means it is a necessity to make the heart feel beautiful, as well. As the day goes on and if you find yourself laughing, let your heart know how beautiful it sounds, for it symbolizes the exemption of being yourself and enjoying a moment that could sweeten the day. As the day goes on and if you find yourself crying, let your heart know how strong it is. As the day goes on and if you make a mistake, let your heart know how perfectly normal it is to be human. As the day goes on and there is no mirror present, compliment your heart. Train not only your mouth to speak in invigoration, but train your heart to be invigorated as well. Train it to not only be kind to yourself, but also kind to those in your vicinity. Never stop at loving what’s on the outside, but it’s the makeover on the inside that exposes the beauty.

Repeat these steps as many times in the day as you’d like, but make sure you do this at least once a day. Repeat this not only when you feel discouraged, but even at your highest point, so the reminder that you are beautiful will never fan out. Repeat so it becomes a natural routine, that you won’t even second guess the opportunity to complete these steps. Always keep that heart of yours in training to be gentle with yourself and kind to others, for confidence is not a self thing, but beneficial to those around you as well.

The purpose of this isn’t to get a big head, but a big heart. Encouragement is so powerful and it’s so beautiful to encourage yourself. It’s a necessity to encourage others as well.

—  To Believe You Are Beautiful Tutorial
Imagine Thorin telling you you’re beautiful

Dedicated to @thorin-thoughts , I hope you like this! ^^

Originally posted by laurensparkesstuff

You trudged along unhappily behind the rest of the Company, staring at your boots. Your inner demons screamed discouraging words to you, telling you that you were worthless, that no one wanted you, that no one would ever love you. You thought that your ‘ugliness’ only added to your loneliness, even though you were actually quite beautiful.

Balin, who was near the back of the group as well, noticed your sour state, and fell back to walk beside you. 

“What is the matter, lassie?” he asked softly, leaned into your line of vision a bit. 

You shook your head, not moving your eyes from the ground. “Nothing.”

“Mm, I think something is wrong, my dear.” the old dwarf insisted, reaching out to gently touch your shoulder with his gloved hand. “You’ve been off by yourself sulking all morning. No one does that because nothing is wrong.”

Reluctantly, you told Balin of what you had been feeling recently, and he couldn’t seem to be more confused by your behavior. 

“Why do you think you’re worthless, lassie?” he asked quietly, “Surely you know how much you mean to all of us? And I’m sure we are not the only ones in the world you care about you.”

You shrugged, but couldn’t hold back the question. “You all…you care about me?”

“Yes, yes of course!” Balin nodded emphatically, taking your arm and leading you into the middle of the traveling group. “Everyone here, everyone you see, loves you very deeply, (Y/n).”

You looked around to see every dwarf (and Gandalf and Bilbo) smiling at you and nodding their heads in conformation.

Even Thorin winked—winked!—at you, causing your cheeks to erupt in a fiery blush, and you bowed your head.

“There is no reason for you not to love yourself even more than we love you, lassie,” Balin assured you, and for once in a long while, you really did love yourself.

You could finally love yourself, because you now knew that there were others that loved you too.

When I visit my niece in her home, she’s free to run around in her own house, with her family, in her PJs—or underwear!—and it’s okay. But, when her mom says, “Okay Sammy-girl, we’re going out to eat,” she puts on her favorite twirly dress. It’s not fakery. She can enjoy being the side of herself that sports her favorite twirly dress and relate to the general public in honorable, beautiful ways while wearing appropriate clothing for a restaurant. Different clothes for different occasions equals a different way to act while remaining true to who you are. For me, it feels like picking a crown to wear that reminds me how to relate to each situation. I’m not playing dress up. I’m just sharing the part of me that makes the most sense for the circumstances. There are moments within my most intimate relationships, like with my closest friends or my sisters, where we may feel free to go without a crown at all, nothing hidden or held back. But even in these relationships there are moments where, for the sake of love or circumstance, we put on our crowns to honor one another. I used to think that saying whatever you think, whenever you think it, was being honest and intimate and that it’s just what friends did. I now realize that if they are hurtful, out of place, or discouraging, those words are often really just selfish venting and are not rooted in real love.
—  Lacey Sturm