would pay to see it again

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How VICE media’s new platform Broadly STOLE my Caramel Curves project!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Broadly is supposed to be a station that VICE created to empower women. Broadly was allegedly created for women, by women and about women. They proudly boast about how they are feminists and are bringing women together. Don’t let this camouflage fool you like it fooled me. Broadly is a vulture. A soul sucking parasite that can only survive by leaching every ounce of original content from it’s host.
I am a victim that Broadly chose as a host and extracted it’s ideas and original content from. A few months ago I shared with a friend that I wanted to turn my photo project about the Caramel Curves into a doc. This friend started working for Broadly, pitched my idea and in May they asked me if I would make a short doc about the Caramel Curves for them. They explained that it would be a celebration of my photographs and that I would have creative control over almost everything. We discussed my role as the co director over and over again. At a meeting with some of the Caramel Curves, Broadly assured them that I was co directing this project. The leader of the Curves told Broadly that the only reason why she was going to let Broadly make a documentary about the group was because she trusted me. She also told them that If I was not directing the film her and the gang were out. VICE promised me and the Curves that we would be shown the footage that was shot, weigh in on the editing, and approve of the final cut before the piece was published.
I pushed for a crew from New Orleans but Broadly insisted on sending me a crew that was already VICE staff. After all they were facilitating the budget, so I agreed. After sending me a crew from New York City and a camera man from hell we spent a few days shooting this project. The conditions were incredibly stressful. It was a daunting task to get the dp to listen to anything that I told him. He refused all direction regarding his camera work, but was happy to have me direct the Curves.
I should have trusted my gut and been more assertive but since one of the people that I was working with was a friend that I’ve known for over 5 years I decided to just roll with the punches. At one point my lovely subjects - smart and amazing Caramel Curves became very suspicious of VICE and Broadly and wouldn’t sign release forms. They also wanted a guarantee that they could have copies of the footage for their personal use. The crew and I discussed this obstacle and the camera man from hell came up with an idea. He callously said, verbatim “I just got back from Ghana where we were shooting a doc about boxing. You should just do what I did when I was there - just lie to them and tell them they are going to get what ever it is that they want. I mean, we are never going to see these people again.” I was absolutely appalled. That pretty much set the mood of the entire shoot. I felt pitted between my subjects who I much respect and the dubious Broadly crew.
The Curves came out of the shoot unenthusiastic. They didn’t send their release forms to VICE. My “friend” at VICE put pressure on me to get them. I told her that we wanted to see the footage. She kept stalling… She would apologize and tell me it was coming. The pay check also never showed up, same story. I sent the releases, trusting my friend", and also VICE as a normal law abiding media outlet, to finish the project according to our contract. I was paid when they received the releases, but was never sent the dailies. No rough cuts, no outlines, no paper edits. Then, an email with a link to a rough cut, and a second email a day later saying sorry the piece is online! I was never able to show the Curves the edit, nor give my input. For this, and many other reasons, the piece is shallow. It kind of sucks compared to the real story of the Caramel Curves, which is beautiful. None of us in New Orleans are happy about the process at all. Vice doesn’t mind if we are deceived exploited and disposed then of.
Last week Broadly launched their awful site and kicked it off with my Caramel Curves project. This is a project that I have spent 2 years working on. That friend that I was telling you about earlier, well she took most of the credit, and her little minions that got sent down from New York with her got whatever credit was left over.
I complained to Hannah Gregg. She left me a voicemail and a text that apologised for what had been done and basically said that she knew they fucked up, but it was too late to do anything about it. I posted this story on my instagram and Tracie Morrissey, the creator of Broadly left me a few comments. She told me that I didn’t actually do anything for them and that I should be ashamed of myself for trying to claim this project as mine.
VICE didn’t know what to do with creative women so they made a ghetto for them called Broadly. Please spread the word that VICE and Broadly are vultures and will do anything they can to steal original content from independent artists. Don’t let them take advantage of you or anyone that you know.

In my head, we were going to end up together. It was going to be the most epic love story. The longest burn, but with the most rewarding finale.

The library glances and smirks were going to pay off. Our friends would joke about how they saw this coming, how infuriating it was that neither of us would make the first move. 

It’s funny because I got over you last summer, and then after 3 months I saw you again and the lust came flooding back. But it’s different now. I don’t want you the way I used to. I made you unattainable.

You see the problem with the long burn, is it gave me time for my imagination to run wild. And neither of us could live up to the expectation that I made for us. 

I think you will always be the one I wish I had of swallowed my pride for. You will be the one I wish I had of put my fear of rejection aside for. But I didn’t, and neither did you. So now I can’t play the games, because it hurts too much to know what I could have had.

—  To the one I fell for a long time ago, and still has a place in my heart 
Ruin my chances at my dream job, will you? Please, let me return the favor.
(long story. tl;dr at the end)

I am a nurse. When I was in nursing school, I loved my rotation through ICU and wanted nothing more than to be an ICU nurse, because I eventually wanted to become a nurse anesthetist (ICU experience is required for anesthesia school). My first job after graduation was not in ICU, but after 10 months as a nurse, I was offered a position in a Multi-system ICU. It was a training program for new nurses and I was told I would get 16 weeks of training. Fantastic! I was so excited! Then right before I started, I was told, oops, no, you actually only get 6 weeks of training. Um, okay, kind of concerned that that’s not enough time, but I’m going to try my best. I was somewhat apprehensive, but still excited. Until I met my preceptor.

This girl was undoubtedly intelligent and knew her job, but she was so mean to me that I was regularly having near-panic attacks in the few weeks I worked there. She would send huge emails to the educator about how much I sucked, and would ream me out in front of other staff and patients (one time one of the other nurses had to intervene). The other girl who started the program at the same time as me even said how awful my preceptor was being to me. She was also arrogant as fuck, and always bragged about shit, like how her fiancé (who was a practicing nurse anesthetist and made a lot of money) paid all this money for her engagement ring, and paid all this money for his surprise proposal, and how once they were married and had kids if she wanted a thousand dollar baby stroller, that’s what he was going to buy her, and how her wedding was going to be so big and fancy and expensive and perfect. And she was one of those people who was “super Christian,” and was fake nice and passive aggressive when talking to you that it starts to make you wonder if you’re crazy for seeing the vile in them. I hated her with the fire of a thousand burning suns.

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Dialogue Prompts

Originally posted by pray-for-the-sun

Dialogue Prompts

1.   “I’m sorry. It’s just everytime you open your mouth, you seem to get even more annoying. Does it take effort to do that?”

2.   “Where did you learn to fight like that?” “Have you ever been to a concert before?”

3.   “Remember that time when I asked for your option?” “No” “ Yeah neither do I”

4.   “Wereyou born this stupid, or were you just dropped on your head one to many times as a child?”

5.   “Please tell me he isn’t doing his victory dance behind me”

6.   “We’re Americans, we have a tendency of going overboard and starting a revolution”

7.   “Can’t we just hug this out?”

8.   “Do you love me?” “Depends on how much food you brought me”

9.   “If your laptop and I were trapped in a housefire and you only had enough time to save one, who would you save?……..Are you seriously having to think about this!?”

10.   “No one likes your jokes” “What are you talking about, the old lady at the store said I was funny!”

11.   “It’s a good plan!…..Okay it’s half of an okay plan…..So it’s actually like a hopeful idea”

12.   “Shouldn’t you be at work?” “Shouldn’t you be out telling little kids that Santa Clause isn’t real”

13.   “Why can’t the world just chill for one second”

14.   “Let’s say, hypthetically of course, that I needed help hiding a body-” “Hold up let me get a shovel”

15.   “Is he always this rude?” “Only when he watches Gossip Girls”

16.   “How can you look so attrative while crying?”

17.   “Wow we are screwed” “Really, what could possibly make you say that?”

18.   “Please don’t leave me. I love you”

19.   “I trusted you”

20.   “You’re just going to turn your back on everyone, again” “It was a defensive habit, I didn’t mean to.”

21.   “I almost died!” “Death by a hamster, I would pay to see that”

22.   “Newt Scamander, wouldn’t treat me like this!” “Well Newt is a fictional character” “How dare you!”

23.   “Did you even sleep last night?” “I’ll sleep when I’m dead”

24.   “Pretty sure none of this was suppose to happen”

25.   “Don’t you dare die on me….We’re suppose to grow old together”

26.   “You are my sunshine….my only sunshine…I never told you….How much I love you.”

27.   “I’m not strong or brave, but I will fight for you”

28.   “This can’t be real”

29.   “How did you two become friends?” “I punched him in the face and he gave me a highfive” 

30.   “This is not what I envisioned when you said: wanna play a game.”


                   I’ll be here waiting for requests

Originally posted by drunkbroadway

(please send your requests through the inbox)

NHL!Bitty, Pt. III - Post-Season

Bitty loves Seattle as much as a southerner can love a city that barely sees the sunshine, and he loves his boys, but god bless it if he doesn’t cross his fingers and toes every year hoping to get picked up by a Metropolitan team so he can at least live on the same coast as Jack.

For a few blissful months every year, Bitty gets his husband back; and promptly does none of what he’s planned to do with said husband.

(Also, point-of-order, Jack’s three-year, 1.2 million a year Falconers contract is on the lower end of the spectrum. The average (2016) NHL salary is around 2.9 mil a year, meaning Jack went pretty cheap for someone being scouted by so many teams. Did our beloved Canadian hockey robot turn down mad-money elsewhere to sign with the Falconers? Probably.) 

Part I - Hug Check |  Part II - Chirping

_________

They’re both snuggled up together in a rare moment of post-season calm. Neither are keen to move any more than the absolutely have to; tucked into lopsided couch cushions while the television plays split-screened between another film missed in theaters and the NHL Network.

It’s been a long, hard-fought season for them both: the Falconers knocked out of the playoffs in the second round, the Schooners barely making a dent in the first. Combine that with their newfound ‘chronic’ injuries and Bitty is happy to just lie here, mindlessly groping any part of Jack he can reach: he’s currently got a handful of pec, while Jack alternates between Bitty’s ass and lower back. It’s not arousing at all, just comfortable; until Jack’s wandering fingers hit a sore spot.  

“You okay?” Jack whispers when Bitty flinches.

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Suga Daddy: Part 6

Suga Daddy: Part Six

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Word count: 6.5k

Genre: smut, angst


I was going to post this later but what the hellThis is in Yoongi’s pov, there will be more in his pov but I figured this needed to be done since I had some people freaking out over the last chapter. Thank you to anyone who has supported this story, it means the world to me. Anyway, hope you enjoy! (Also if you messaged me about how to make a masterlist, I forgot your username, i’m sorry! Message me again for the link it you still want it.)

Parts: one | two | three | four | five


Yoongi got to work and walked through the double glass front doors. The secretary, Gina, spoke to him. “Oh, Mr. Min, your friend Mr. Park is in your office to see you.”

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Real Estate Revenge

(TL;DR at bottom)

I’ve been a real estate broker in Chicago for nearly 20 years. I started at a very small independent brokerage. It was my first week there when the broker/owner gave me a lead. He was older and wasn’t in very good health, so he passed a lot of his leads to his agents.

One of the broker’s friends passed away and the friend’s son wanted to sell the house. I call the son who tells me he’s known the broker for 30-plus years and how close their families were. He seems like a really nice guy. I go over and check out the house. I work up a gorgeous comparative market analysis. I have other brokers check my numbers (I was new and wanted to do a perfect job for my new client). I rehearse my presentation, have my stuff professionally printed, prepare for any possible questions, have responses ready for objections, and I head out.

I dazzle this guy with my presentation. He likes the $135,000 list price I recommended. He’s fine with the commission. He has no objections, but he asks me to give him 2 months to clean out the house, give his siblings a chance to go through everything and then repaint.

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His Family Doesn’t Like You PT 2

“Where’s Y/N?” Gemma asked, as she stepped out of the car.

The day had been tense. By the time Gemma and Anne woke up Harry was in the kitchen. He kissed her on the cheek and she was out the door with a bag in her hand, a bag that Gemma knew costed a semester of college. When Anne brought it up Harry shut it down, ‘my house, my rules, treat her and talk about her the way you wish to be treated,’ he reminded them. 

After some convincing Harry went out with them. They walked the streets of LA, and enjoyed their time. She wasn’t brought up and the tension seemed to fade. 

“Yes why isn’t y/n spending time with us,” Anne says, her tone full of disgust as she said her name, “is she out shopping?”  

Harry takes in a deep breath, trying to remain calm, “I thought it might be best if my family wasn’t down her throat all the time so she picked up an extra shift,” Harry answered. 

“She works?” Anne asked, shock clear in her voice. 

“Mum,” Harry says, “if you’re going to talk about her it will be in a nice way. She is my girlfriend, I love her. I see a future with her, and I will not have her run off because of you guys.”

“You won’t get my blessing,” Anne says firmly. 




“They hate me, they literally hate me,” she says into the phone as she walks into her house. 

She shuts the door behind her and tosses her keys on to the small table. She loved seeing Harry when she came home from work, but she was thankful to see the range rover out of the drive way today. 

“I’m sure they don’t hate you,” Sarah says into the phone, and she was just glad that someone in Harry’s life liked her. 

“They do, you should’ve heard what they were saying yesterday,” she sighs, “and my car broke down today. I had to have Stan pick me up and drive me to work and the drop me off at home.”

“Where’s your car now?”

“In the shop, it’s going to cost me over fifteen hundred to get it fixed,” she says, walking to the kitchen and grabbing some of the left over cookies, “I had to borrow money from my parents, and now I’m working doubles for the next three months so I can pay them back. And I know once Harry sees me working more he’s going to snoop.”

“Just tell him,” Sarah says. 

“No way, I can’t he’ll want to fix it or buy me a new car, and a new car would be nice but I’m not ready to give up Vicky and she’s still useful.”

“Not really, this is the forth time you’ve gone to get her fixed, if Harry knew he would be mad,” Sarah responds. 

“I know,” she groans, hoping on the stool. 

“What are you going to tell Harry? Won’t he notice the missing car.”

“I’m still trying to figure it out,” she sighs, “maybe if I’m lucky Harry won’t even notice.”

“Notice what?” Harry asked, shrugging off his jacket as he walks in with his mother and sister, his eye brow is raised. 

“I’ll call you later Sarah,” she says. 

“Okay cool, bye.”

“What happened?” Harry asked. 

“Nothing you need to worry about,” she says, “how was your day?”

“It was fine,” Gemma answered, “Harry showed us around, it’s a shame you couldn’t join us.”

She doesn’t sound sarcastic or rude and Harry smiled softly, “maybe we can all go out tonight?” Gemma asked, “I would really like to get to know you.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely,” Y/N responds, taken back, “but I picked up another shift at the diner and I have to be back in three hours.”

“What? Why?” Harry asked, “was it your car? I didn’t see it out there. I told you it was a piece of crap, how much is it to get fixed?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she sighed. 

“I’m worried if that means you’re going to be out all the time to try and pay it off when it will break down again,” Harry frowned, “I can help.”

“Of course you can,” Anne says, “just buy her the car shop.”

She frowns, hoping off the stool, “I’m really trying to not be rude Mrs. Twist,” she says, “but I do love your son and I don’t love him for his money.”

“I don’t believe it,” Anne says, “and just as I told Harry you won’t be getting my blessing.”

“Mum-”

“I’m sorry Harry,” she says, “I love you, I really do and you know that, but I can’t be the reason you don’t get along with your mom.”

“Y/N,” Harry says, turning to her, his heart dropping, “please don’t.”

“I can’t Harry,” she shakes her head, “I just-I can’t. I need to go.”

She shoves past them, the door shutting behind her. Harry turns to Anne, his mother stands, looking at just where she stood. 

“This is your fault,” Harry seethed, “this is all your fault!”

“Harry it’s for the best-”

“No!” Harry yelled, “she wasn’t after my money, she wasn’t after my fame! Y/N and I dated for six months before she even considered coming out in public with our relationship! Y/N was struggling with thousands of dollars to owe to a college and I helped her because I love her! I helped her because it meant she could pick up less shifts and be with me! Y/N has done nothing wrong, all she has done is love your son! She didn’t see me as the media portrayed me. The same media that called your son a womanizer, the same media that claimed I slept with thousands of girls, the same media that tries to tear me apart, you’ve seen what they can do!”

“Harry-”

“Yes I paid off her loans, but she had most of them paid off, yes I bought this house but half the stuff in this house she has paid for! And yes I bought her a car because she always has that piece of garbage she calls a car in a shop. If roles were switched and she had a higher income I know she would do the same for me, but you just can’t accept that!” Harry yelled, “and now you’ve gone and driven away the one women who could put up with me. The one women who didn’t care about the Harry Styles, but cared about me.”

“I’m sorry,” Anne whispered, tears in her own eyes. 

“It’s a little late for that,” he snapped.

Moving on After Fred Weasley Passes Away - Headcanon/Would Include

Warnings: This broke my heart to write):


  • You wouldn’t cry much towards the beginning. Of course when the news hit a barricade of tears fell freely but after that, you learned how to bottle it all up. Everything was so unreal you weren’t even sure if it what was real anymore.
  • Fred was your best friend, your other half, the love of your life.
  • After the Battle of Hogwarts you’d travel back to the Burrow with the Weasley’s.
  • He was buried shortly after the Battle. His casket was a sleek black color and shined in the rain that fell. You placed a flower on the top of his casket and choked on a shaky sob. George stood behind you and his hand found it’s way into yours, giving you a squeeze of reassurance as he cried with you. You had never felt more lost in your life. Your fingers twiddled with the diamond band wrapped around your finger. It felt more like a piece of mockery, there to remind you everyday of what you could now never have.
  • Molly spent an entire week in the twins’ bedroom. She didn’t talk, hardly ate, just stared blankly at the wall next to Fred’s bed. He had pictures of his Hogwarts adventures taped to the wall and she had memorized every prospect of the photos so much she couldn’t rid the image from her brain when she closed her eyes, but she didn’t want to forget.
  • At the end of the week George entered his and Fred’s bedroom for the first time since the Battle. He spent an hour talking to his mother. You never did find out what he said, but you remember the burning visual of Molly exiting the room with reddened eyes full of heartbreak.
  • Ginny spent the nights sleeping in her room with you and cuddled against your chest, silently weeping to herself. Your presence made her feel close to her late brother, like he had never actually left.
  • George, Molly, and you would clean out Fred’s half of the room. It was full of tears and once happy now sad memories. Like the large maroon tie blanket you had made for Fred on your anniversary. Or the book on Magical Creatures that Fred had stolen on accident in Diagon Alley while he spied on you from behind a bookcase. You were shopping for all your school supplies and the redhead had torn from his family, catching glimpse of you in the robes shop and managed to follow you two stores later not wanting to leave you. You eventually caught him as he tripped over a pile of books, the binds of knowledge cascading to the floor with a crash. You smiled and helped him up while introducing yourself. The rest was history.
  • Arthur stood in the doorway of the room watching the three of you clean. Deep aging wrinkles indented his forehead making him appear older than he really was. His face was long, drowning in sorrow. He didn’t say a word, just watched.
  • Ginny cried alone in her room. Harry tried to comfort her but his success was no avail. She locked herself away for three days, lost in a sea of depression.
  • Ron turned to Harry and Hermione who welcomed him with open arms. He was the first to open up after his older brother’s death.
  • You stayed at the Burrow for a almost three weeks before flying to France. You choice was rash but you needed to get away. Molly understood and wished you well. You didn’t know how long you would be gone but you hoped it would give you some time to come to terms with the heartbreak you were experiencing.
  • Fred used to tell you when you were in school together that he always dreamed of going to France. He never knew why. He was rubbish at speaking French and had no idea how he’d survive, but it was a dream of his.
  • Percy, Bill, and Charlie all stayed at the Burrow for a month or so. Their hearts ached at the lose of their younger brother.
  • George… George no longer felt like himself. It was as if a part of himself was missing, torn from his soul. He dragged through the day’s, closing down the shop for a while. After spending two weeks at the Burrow he moved back to the apartment above Weasley Wizard Wheezes that Fred and him shared. The second he walked through the door he broke down. Tears splashed against his cheeks as he finally let all his emotions pour out. He called you, practically begging you to keep him company.
  • Of course you obliged and flew back home immediately. You lived with Fred in the apartment too. It was your home as well and you had been putting off going back to the apartment as much as possible. The home held so many items from your past involving Fred and you. Where he proposed to you, where you had you first blow up fight, where you had you first time together, where you had the million of talks about your future together, and so much more.  
  • This made Molly feel a little better when she heard you would be staying with George for a while. She hated the thought of George being all along right after losing his best friend, his twin, his other half.
  • You left France still clutching a box full of Fred’s belonging. A heavy feeling invaded your heart. You took a train to London after landing then joined George at the shop.
  • The minute the door swung open George’s arms were thrown around your frame as he pulled you into a tight embrace. The barrier you had been working so hard to uphold, crumbled at his touch. Not because you felt you could finally let go of all the emotions being kept inside. No, you cried because George’s embrace reminded you of Fred’s. The way his hold tighten as you sobbed mirrored Fred’s actions identically. Your chest ached as you came to realize you future with Fred was gone. George’s salty tears splashed on the crown of your head.
  • The first week barely any words at all were exchanged. You would mumble a small ‘good morning’ to each other during breakfast but that was usually it.
  • George spent the days in his room and the nights at a bar across the street. This continued on for a week until you confronted him. You waited up all night, worried sick. He stumbled in around three in the morning, eyes brimming red, breath stenching strong from alcohol.
  • “George Weasley, what the hell?” You would screeched. His eyes snapped up at you resembling a deer caught in headlights. His gazed quickly fell to the floor as he shut the house door and brushed past you. You yelled after him making him halt in his path,
  • “George pease just talk to me! I know this is hard for you, believe me I do. He was your brother. You two have never been apart so I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through. George I’m here for you and you can talk to me because I lost him too. You did everything with Fred, you two started this business together and we both know he just wants you to be happy again. Please… just try, George. Try for me, try for Fred. Please. I just want to be here for you. If there’s something I did. If you hate me-” Your voice broke at the end and your knees gave up. Crashing to the floor a echoing cry invaded the air. George stood motionless watching you fall apart before his eyes. He could almost hear Fred scolding him and urging him to act. Fred would want George to comfort you, Fred would want you two to be there for each other.
  • George hesitantly crossed the room and bent to your level. His hand reached out, brushing a strand of messy hair from your face. Glancing up at him you started in to question him but George beat you around the bush. He seemed half sobered up and shook his head.
  • “Y/n… it’s not you, I swear. You’re the most purest human being in the entirety of the world, please don’t think that way. Every moment you and Fred were together I could never shake that from my mind, how perfect you are. But god Y/n every time I see you I think of my brother. He loved you more than anything in this world and I know he would hate me right now for not being there for you. I feel like I’ve let him down and that hurts more than anything. I see Fred everytime I look in the mirror, everytime I see the pictures on the fridge, everytime I walk into the shop, everytime I come home and everytime I see you.”
  • His words took you by storm but for once, it made sense. You had been sleeping in Fred and your bed, helping start the shop back up (mainly by yourself), and it probably didn’t help that you had been stealing items of Fred’s clothing, just wanting to be close to him again. For the first time since the Battle, you admitted the burden you’d been holding inside.
  • “I wish I could’ve saved him. If I wasn’t distracted by the helping that student- if I would have been paying more attention to Fred… he’d still be here.” You quivered. George’s eye soften and he shook his head.
  • “Y/n you know no one could’ve stopped what happen. I’ve spent every night laying awake wondering if I could’ve changed something. I’m not sure what god planned this, or if there even is one, but Y/n we had no control over this.” His arms locked around you pulling you against his chest. His lips planted against your forehead sweetly covering you in a blanket of comfort.
  • You spent the rest of the night in George’s arm. You shared memories of Fred, some sweet, some funny, and some that made you cry again.
  • “Remember the time the two of you enchanted endless snowballs to pelt, well technically, Voldemort in the face and Quill in the back of the head?” You giggled into the glass of cherry red wine you held to your lips. George leaned into the cushion of the couch and shook his head with a smile. 
  • “Classic!”
  • George spent the night in Fred and your bed- to keep you company of course.
  • He kept you company for the rest of the nights to follow
  • The two of you began to drift into a weird zone
  • You had always lightly fancied George but it was Fred you loved.
  • He would randomly start bringing you home flowers and other small gifts
  • Some days George would come home to find a bundled up new sweater placed on his work desk. You always claimed the things you bought him were on sale so you just couldn’t resist but George knew better
  • A strong connection was growing and it confused you- George too. You wanted another shot at happiness but you weren’t sure if you were ready yet until another vacant Friday night rolled around and you found yourself laying on the couch in George’s arm talking about the week and before you knew it he was leaning forward.
  • The first time you kissed George you screwed your eyes shut tightly and imagined his lips as Fred’s. You knew it was horrible but you had no clue what else to do. It was like you were cheating on your fiance- your dead fiance, with his twin brother. But when you realized it was George, you didn’t entirely hate it. It was actually quite a fulfilling kiss. A part from inside of you warmed up for the first time in a long time.
  • George had a sickening vibe settling in the pit of his stomach after he pulled back. His heart sped up at the newfound affection the kiss brought although kissing you made him feel like he was betraying his brother. Fred planned to marry you for Merlin’s sake and there George was, making out with his dead twin’s girlfriend.
  • But you kissed him again the next day and he didn’t pull away
  • And the next
  • And the one after that too
  • Kissing you made George think of his brother. Fred loved you and George could understand why. Kissing you, sleeping beside you, comforting you, it all made George feel as if he was somehow growing closer to his twin.
  • At first your relationship with George was based solely on the fact that he was identical to your late lover but as time passed on George made you feel differently than Fred did. Despite you never thinking it was possible, George taught you how to laugh again. He would slowly crack back into his prankster self again. It took his almost a full year after Fred’s passing to invent a new product for the shop or even enter the store for more than passing to get to the apartment. He tested out the product on you during breakfast one morning. Pouring a lilac solution into the base of your black coffee and giving it a swirl, George carried on with breakfast as if nothing had happen. Dragging in, you hugged George from behind before taking a seat at the nook. You instantly sipped on the brewed mixture in front of you and spit it out in shock as the odd flavor set in.
  • George howled in laughed and bent over the kitchen stove pointing towards you. Furrowing your eyebrows you set the mug down and spoke up agitated,
  • “George what the hell did you put in- oh my god!”
  • You realized the change in tone quickly and covered your face in embarrassment. Your voice was as deep as a well making you sound similar to that of a male that had spent over half his life heavily smoking. George rushed over and planted a kiss to your cheek.
  • “It worked!” Although you were thoroughly ticked off at his choice of targeting you, you were happy he was back to his old ways. The bills were piling up by the second and the landlord wanted the shop either back up and running, or both of you to move out. Dumping your infected cup of coffee down the sink drain you started to make a new batch. Smiling to yourself you laughed softly,
  • “Well, I’m glad to have you back, George.”
  • That was only the beginning. George and you spent almost every moment inventing and creating new sale items. The first handful were absolute rubbish but it didn’t matter. Both of you were trying to get back in the swing of things and sometimes that took a while.
  • Within three months Weasley Wizard Wheezes was back up and running again.
  • Sales flooded in and shot straight through the roof steadily for a long term.
  • As a ‘thank you’ present for helping him get back on his feet George invited you out for a fancy meal out on the town.
  • You decided on a Muggle restaurant and dressed to the nines. George’s jaw skimmed the floor when you walked out of your room and slipped on your heels. He held your hand and escorted you out.
  • During dinner you had ntoiced how fidgety and nervous George was acting. You made the choice to question him on it over a glass of champagne right before the main course and he physically stiffened. Tilting his glass back, George chugged down the large intake and wiped his lips on the red amber napkin. His hands clasped together then unclasped at his side. His soft eyes found yours and he darted them back down to the tablecloth.
  • “It’s just- well, Y/n… what are we?”
  • It would get silent very fast and he would instantly fill it.
  • “What I mean is, I like you… I like you a lot but I know how you felt about my brother. I saw the glint in your eyes that would sparkle whenever you saw him and how happy you two were together and Y/n I want to be able to make you as happy as Fred did. With that being said I don’t want you to be with me because I remind you of him or because you can’t stop thinking about Fred. I’m not gonna lie at the start of our, uh, relationship I was hanging out with you because you made me think of Fred but all those late nights and million cups of coffee have made me realize the truth. I love you Y/n- and not because you dated my brother. I love you for you and I think I have for a very long time. What I’m asking is… Y/n would you um, like to be my girlfriend?”
  • You cried, a lot. George’s heart broke at the sight only confirming the love swelling in his heart. His feelings were genuine and it warmed your soul. You lunged across the table knocking over the bread bowl in the process and threw your arms around George’s frame.
  • “Of course I will! Oh my god, George. You’re making me cry like a bloody fool!”
  • George called his mother the second you got home. Molly was hit with a wave of shock at first. She gave both of you long speeches trying to inspect if the love was real or a mask to feign the hurt of bonding over the lose of Fred. She demanded both of you come home to the Burrow for the week so you did and the moment she looked into both of your eyes, it was clear as crystal.
  • “Good lord you are in love!”
  • It was hard for the rest of the Weasley family to accept at first. You understood completely since you had the same weary, unsure feeling as well but eventually they came to accept it. They were all happy to you and George happy once again.
  • But as happy as you were, small memories with Fred would constantly pop up.
  • Like one night when George and you were lying in bed together whispering softly realization would settle in and you’d comment,
  • “This is where he proposed. We were lying right here when Fred asked me to marry him.”
  • You knew how horrid it was to put this on George but you had no control. George thought about this all the time and was reminded of your relationship with his brother at every corner he turned.
  • You would then apologize feeling god awful for saying such a thing but George would hush you saying,
  • “It’s alright Y/n. Just because he’s not around anymore and because we’re together now doesn’t mean we have to pretend he was never alive or your relationship with him didn’t exist. He loved you, and I know how much you love him. I’m not upset- actually I’m more than thankful my brother managed to snag a girl like you. You two were perfect together and he will always love you just like how you will always love him. Fred… he is… was my brother and for a long time I thought he would hate me for me being with you and for a long time I thought my heart tricked me into loving you. That maybe it wasn’t love I was feeling but rather so the relationship my brother and I had and maybe because he loved you so much, being with you would make me feel less lonely about losing him but I know the truth. I love you, Y/n. Hell, maybe I always have but the important thing is I love you now and I will love you tomorrow and I will continue to love you years from now and that’s not because of Fred, it’s because of you and who you are. I love you.”
  • You two learned how to live your life no longer feeling guilty for the love you shared. Fred smiled down his heart warming at seeing his two favorite people in the world relying on each other and sharing a piece of their heart together.
  • He proposed to you in the middle of a busy work day right as you were restocking a shelf. The rest of his family were there to see. Molly, Hermione and Ginny cried a river while the boys patted George on the back. On your wedding day the tears were never ending, though happy ones.
  • You two eventually moved to London- kept the shop but decided you needed more room, well of course your growing stomach demanded that. One cold night in the middle of December George and you were blessed with the birth of your first son, Fred ll. He had a head of wicked red hair and a small mischievous smile toying on his face and you had never felt more complete in your life. George planted a kiss to your head muttering a string of ‘thank yous’. You knew in your heart this was exactly where you were meant to be.

- Daizy xx

You’re Mine (M)

Originally posted by nnochu

Pairing: Yoongi x Reaader

Genre: CEO!Yoongi, smutty smut smut with a hint of angst and fluff

Warnings: Spanking, rough sex(?), dirty talk (a lot of it), slight cum play

Summary: “The Jeon’s are going to be there and I can already see their father gloating about how his son, Jeon-fucking-ladies-man-Jungkook, is the youngest of his kids and become an owner of his own business even though all he does is go and fuck girls behind his father’s back.” Yoongi furrowed his eyebrows as he spoke, getting angrier by the second.

Word Count: 2,946 words

A/N: I feel like this is all over the place. I’m sorry if this wasn’t what you wanted anon :((( feedback is always appreciated though!


“Don’t forget we’ve got that banquet with the CEO’s tonight,” you glanced down at the iPad in your hands, looking at the schedule for your boss, boyfriend and CEO, Min Yoongi.

“Six hours of being stuck with selfless assholes does sound like fun, doesn’t it?” He questioned, picking up his coat from the back of his chair, getting ready to head home.

“I’m going to be coming with you too Yoongi, besides, it can’t be that bad.”

“The Jeon’s are going to be there and I can already see their father gloating about how his son, Jeon-fucking-ladies-man-Jungkook, is the youngest of his kids and become an owner of his own business even though all he does is go and fuck girls behind his father’s back.” Yoongi furrowed his eyebrows as he spoke, getting angrier by the second.

“Yoongi,” you spoke up, walking towards him and placing your hands around his neck, giving his nose a small kiss, “Calm down babe.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just-”

“I know you’re stressed, but it’s going to be fine. You haven’t had any problems with CEO’s like Mr Jeon before and I know that it’ll go smoothly this time. You’ve sweet talked your way through agreements before and I know it’s going to be fine.”

“How do you know that princess?”

“Mm, maybe because you’re Min Yoongi, and my extremely talented and good looking boyfriend.”

“Great answer baby,” Yoongi let out a small laugh before giving you a kiss. “Let’s go home and get ready for the next few hours of torture coming our way.”


You know Yoongi was holding back. It had been ages since the last time you two had…for more of a crude term, fucked because of how busy the company was with the changes it was going through with. He’d had to stay late nights and have early mornings for the past few weeks and he was clearly stressed. You had bought him food of course, and reminded him how to sleep but the company was thinking about merging with the Park’s and it created a whole lot of stress.

“Tell again why you think it’s a good idea to wear that dress to this? You know rich bastards will be looking at you.” Yoongi didn’t understand what was going through your mind at that time.

“Well, for one, I know you like it, a lot,” You glanced up, sending a flirty wink to Yoongi, “And also,because it is formal and suited for this occasion.”

The idea of wearing one of the tightest dressed that fitted you but still made you look formal and presentable and tease Yoongi for the night, was one that made you smile to yourself that night. Throughout the entire drive to the the event, Yoongi’s eyes couldn’t be averted from you, but mostly he kept on staring at your curves.

As you two walked into the elegantly decorated mansion, he kept an arm draped around your waist at all times, clouded eyes looking down into yours at some times. You could tell he was turned on and a little mad due to what you were wearing, but that didn’t keep you from pressing yourself up against him at times.

“Ah, Yoongi! How lovely to see you,” Mr Jeon came up to the both of you with a glass of champagne in his hand, a wide smile overtaking his face but both you and Yoongi knew it was all for show. Everyone who was anyone knew The Min’s and the Jeon’s were enemies, more so because of the Jeon’s always wanting to outdo the Min’s in everything.

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That Awkward Moment When

John Laurens x Female Reader

Requested by @cupcakequeen1999 who was kind enough to compromise, this one goes out to you girl, you’re super rad

In which the reader and Laurens are roommates and very good friends. Jealousy and smut ensues.

Words: 4,573

Warnings: NSFW! SMUT SMUT SMUT and LOTS OF SWEARING (don’t read if this will make you uncomfortable)

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i’m genuinely so invested in 13 reasons why and the cast. i’m highkey rly sad i’m done with it already. i loved it so fucking much and i love the depth of each character and their backgrounds. and i love the cast so much they did so welll bringing one of my favorite stories to life holy fuck! really felt like i was living in their world. the cast is also just so attractive and diverse, ethinicity wise and sexually etc. i fucking love seeing all the premiere photos and instagrams and cast pictures together bts and just hanging out like such a cute little family. miles and brandon are adorable lil bbs. i love alisha katherine and dylan so much too. It’s amazing and i praise my bb selena for handling this project in the best way possible. ok i guess i’m done talking about this for awhile? Idk maybe. I wanna watch it again lmao and again and again. i want a season 2!! i know it might take away from the original story but there is so much more to go into with the other characters that i would love to watch and see unravel. clay and skye? whatd mr porter do with the tapes? tyler’s guns? did bb alex survive? how do people cope w their actions when they find out about his suicide attempt? how is jessica doing with her rape? did she get justice and did bryce pay for it? Howre the parents after hearing hannahs audio files??? I NEED TO KNOW this show got me rly fucked up. reading it was one thing but seeing it made it seem so much more real and added another dimension of heartbreak for me. God everything about this show and it’s cast was perfect. also I miss jeff

Eye Contact (M.)

Originally posted by rapgodv

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 3.7k

Description: Your boyfriend Jungkook was still a virgin, until one night both of you got heated up and it turned out a lot better than you ever expected.

Info: This is my first smut ever posted. I tried to make slightly sub!jk but my heart can’t lmao. Still I hope you enjoy it and please leave any feedback! And sorry if my english isn’t always correct, it’s not my first language. Enjoy y’all <3

Parts: 1 | 2 


You were laying on your bed, watching TV and getting more and more bored. Jungkook has been in the shower for only 3 minutes but it seemed like a whole hour. You just needed to do something exciting, to try something new and to spice yourself up a bit. Especially your sex life. Even though you and Jungkook were together for almost a year now, you still haven’t had sex. And that’s because he’s a virgin. Of course you respected him wanting to wait and you don’t want to rush into it if he’s still not ready. You love him, he loves you and that’s basically everything that matters. But every time he was lying next to you, kissing you, touching you or even just looking at you, you would immediately feel yourself heating up. “Why are you blushing again, honey?” he would always ask laughingly, finding it cute actually. You shook your head every time, even though you wanted to moan into his ear and tell him how much you wanted, no, how much you needed him. He is so adorable, sexy, hot and incredibly beautiful. You still couldn’t believe you got yourself a boyfriend like him. You know you’re hot yourself too, but still. You were such a lucky girl. Sometimes you entered the bathroom “by accident” when he was showering, so you could get a little sneak peak of his manly body. God damn, when you saw those shoulders the last time, you could’ve just cum right there by only looking at it. And those thighs…

“Y/N? W-what are you doing?” you heard a serious voice saying. 

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Interesting

Originally posted by riverrdxle

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Word Counter: 930

Anon Requested

A/N: I’m fucking tired. That’s all that needs to be said.

Warnings: None, fluff, slight angst i guess??


He had never actually noticed you, which was saying something because Jughead was a pretty observant guy. Well, he knew you were there, just thought you were too bland to waste any thought on. 

You would always just take your place in the back of the class as you avoided the rest of mankind and did your schoolwork. About a week ago, your English teacher assigned all of you to write an essay about the classic, Romeo and Juliet, that you all would be required to read to the entire class. 

You spent the entire week on it, making sure it was perfect. When the day came to presenting, your teacher picked students at random to present their pieces. You picked at your sleeves as you fidgeted, not wanting to go in the front of the class. But you knew you had no choice. 

When your name was read aloud to announce your turn, you froze as everyone turned to look at you. You shakily stood up and grabbed your paper, gripping it tightly as you walked to the front of the class. You passed multiple desks before finally making it to the front and lightly clearing your throat before speaking. 

 Jughead hadn’t been paying attention at all to any of the students presentations, yawning at them all and cursing the stupid assignment in his head. That was, until you started to speak. 

He had never actually heard you speak before, but found your voice soothing. As you went to explain further in your essay he watched the determination and confidence showing on your features and admired it. 

You began to quote some of the famous tale and his eyes flitted from your messy h/c locks to your big e/c eyes. You read your big finish with a smile as the teacher applauded, astounded by your work. The rest of the class just smiled approvingly as they kept looking up at the classroom clock to see when the class would be over. 

 You noticed a dark haired boy staring at you and realized it was Jughead. You’d seen him around and were always intrigued but never were brave enough to approach him. His deep blue irises watched you as you walked back to your seat and let out a huge sigh before putting your stuff back in your bag, seeing as the bell was about to ring. 

He smiled to himself, realizing he was starting to develop something he never thought he would. A crush. The bell rang signaling the class was over and you pushed yourself out of your seat, trying to avoid everyone as you left the classroom. After that day, Jughead started to notice you everywhere. 

He saw that you ate lunch under the same tree out in the yard everyday as you had your nose stuck in a book. He would notice your regular appearance at Pop’s where you would order your usual, a chocolate shake with whipped cream and a cherry. 

 After a few days of watching and becoming mesmerized with you, he finally decided to make a move the next day at Pop’s. That day, after a stressful day at school, you walked over to Pop’s hoping just to relax for a little bit and throw yourself into the world of books. You took a seat in your normal booth, but as soon as you sat down, a waiter came over with your usual before walking away briskly. 

“But I didn’t pay-.” You were interrupted by someone taking a seat in front of you and stealing the cherry from your favored milkshake. “Don’t worry, I already did.” He said as he pulled the stem away from his lips and flicked it away. You realized it was Jughead. Not knowing what to say, you just stared at him for a few seconds.

“Uh, You’re J-Jughead right?“ You asked still slightly startled and surprised that someone would pay for your food. 

"Yes, let me formally introduce myself. I’m Jughead Jones the Third. But Jughead is just fine.” He said with a wry grin as he held a hand out. You just stared at it, not knowing what to say. “Was I too forward? Yep, probably. I’m sorry, I just, I’ve noticed you around school and have taken an interest in you, so I decided to meet you.” He admitted. 

 Your eyebrows furrowed. “You wanted to meet me?” You asked confused. He nodded with a shrug, I find you very interesting Y/N L/N.“ He said as he leaned against the back of his chair. You ran a hand through your hair nervously. "I-I’m not interesting. I’m boring. I don’t have any friends, unless you count my books, and no one has had a problem telling me so. Why would you find me interesting?" 

You started to mess with the ends of your sleeves as you looked down at them, suddenly finding them very intriguing. "Well, I find you fascinating. You wrote a story with your words. You obviously pay very much attention to detail. You actually like reading books which is rare nowadays. You’re very pretty might I add. What’s not to like about you?” You blushed and looked away, not wanting to embarrass yourself. He straightened himself before speaking again. 

“Well, this was a very fun talk. Let’s do it again sometime. How about tomorrow at seven? Great. See ya around.” He said before leaving, not giving you any room to talk in between. You watched walk away in shock. You couldn’t believe someone was actually interested in you. 

And it felt amazing. You weren’t going to mess this one up, because who knows how many chances like this you’d get.


Jughead Tag List: 

@casismyguardianangel @lazyimaginewriter @carmineofmidgard @captainsuperfangirl @tegan-eva @mikymouse1999 @hannsipannsi @nobodylastname @lostinpercyseyes @sebby-staan


Forevers Tag List: 

@noisyinfluencerstrawberry @bananakid42 @itstenafterfour @riverdaleaesthetic @deanackles67 @multi-madison @itsfangirlmendes 

morning sunlight was filtering in through the open doors of the balcony, catching on the beautiful leaves of all of their plants and all shiny and golden and beautiful. magnus had been up for an hour, going through emails on his phone as he dressed and got himself ready for the day. the sun had greeted him bright and cheery, spilling in through the big windows and drenching the loft in pale orange and soft gold.

by now though, magnus’s emails were sorted and he was sat by himself on one of the couches, leaning against the cushions on the arm with a book cradled against his knee and a mug of tea in his other hand. the steam that wafted off of it kept catching in the bright shards of sunlight, catching on the rings that adorned magnus’s fingers, especially the gold one that sat on his left ring finger with two initials carved into the soft metal.

everything had been quiet for a while now as his eyes scanned the page. it was a book of spells he’d loaned from catarina, an old one worn at the edges, a mix of languages old and new. he was looking for a spell in particular, one he wanted to try and expand on, possibly alter entirely before his clients showed up for the day. but when he heard shifting sheets and a soft grunt in the other room he paused reading, glancing back over his shoulder towards the bedroom.

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Many years ago, I used to be a feminist. At first it was merely a “yeah, girl power! Feminism!” kind of thing. And then I moved back home from an abusive relationship, and started hanging out with one of my best friends more often. He was one of the few guys that was a genuine friend and didn’t want to try to get into my pants. Or so I thought. After several months, having found some peace and routine with him, he brought up the prospect of being anything more. Thing is, I felt nothing for him in that aspect. I mentioned this, told him that it wouldn’t feel right forcing myself to be in a relationship with him when I didn’t actually see him in a romantic way and that it would only be cruel to him. He was disheartened, but he didn’t bring it up again for a while.

He was a pharmacy student who was on the cusp of graduation. He studied well and had high grades, and part of our hangout routine was him using his homework and notes to “teach” me (I didn’t really pay attention, but it helped him to better understand his material). One weekend - Halloween, actually, as I will always remember it - he was picking me up from my place so we could spend a few days lounging and playing video games. His car broke down and we spent hours waiting for the tow truck. The next night, we were playing video games per usual. He asked about whether or not I wanted to go somewhere and do something different. I told him that, understanding his financial situation, it would be best if we just continued with our normal routine. At the time, I didn’t think much of it. I figured “Hey, he must just be bored and stressed.” He seemed flustered and excused himself to get us some drinks from downstairs.

He came back with some drinks. I remember that mine tasted odd. I chalked it up to flat soda and allergies to the cats. Soon after, I got extremely tired. I thought it was because I hadn’t slept a few days and it was catching up to me, and I was with someone that I trusted.

I woke up feeling weird. My clothes were gone, I was in his bed, and he was on top of me. His tongue was down my throat. Every ounce of trust I had went down the drain. I was enraged. He was the ONLY male I had trusted. He was my best friend. I hardly trusted my own father to not hurt me at this point in my life because of how rocky our relationship had been. The man I had just left was sexually, physically, and emotionally abusive. This man, the man I so foolishly had considered my best friend, had broken every ounce of trust. I don’t even know the full extent to what he had done to me. But I demanded a ride home.

I never went to the police because I didn’t think they would believe me and at the time I still cared for him as a friend. I didn’t understand at the time everything that had happened. It didn’t completely sink in for years that he had drugged me. It didn’t sink in that he was the one who took off my clothes, that he had touched me in places he knew I would never allow. And I didn’t want to ruin his life over it. But it hit deep enough that I began to hate all men. Every one of them.

A couple of months later, after barring him completely from my life, I was hanging out with my female best friend. She took me out with two of her male friends, who I didn’t like or trust. And a guy that I’d liked from high school met us at the place we were hanging out. He pulled me off to a secluded area and started kissing me. At first I didn’t mind. He was cute, and seeing him kind of rekindled the old flame. But then he wouldn’t stop. And I started pushing him away from me, but he would pull me closer. I’d tell him to stop, and he would tell me that I didn’t really want that. I started struggling and yelling.

My best friend with her friends came across us. I came to find out that she didn’t know he had taken me away and had been looking for us. He friends separated us. I was crushed, because once again a man had broken my trust. My friend, instead of consoling me, lashed out at him. Accused him of “using me to get to her because he knew she liked him.” She didn’t try to make sure I was okay. But her friends did. Her two male friends, who I hadn’t liked simply on the basis that they were male, told me that if they had known the extent to which things had happened they would have beaten his ass instead of telling him to leave. One, who had just gotten out of jail, said that if I knew where the guy lived he would be more than willing to go back to protect me from the guy. These two men were more understanding than she had been.

They took me home. I was too shaken up to be fun. My dad saw how I was, and asked me what happened. The guy worked with my father. I told my dad what he did. He asked me what I wanted to do. My only words were “I want him to go away.” My dad said he could make that happen. And he did. The guy moved to California within the month.

I began having doubts about whether or not all men deserved to be hated simply because of their penis.

Months later, I began going to school the place my dad worked at. I realized that a lot of the ladies there liked my father. He wouldn’t ever do anything to return this “friendliness” from the women. My father prided himself on being professional. He was a completely different person than he was at home. One of the women who consistently tried to advance on my father began to feel spurned. So she and some of the other girls conspired together. They made false accusations about my father. Saying he would touch them and speak inappropriately to them. The school wouldn’t even listen to my father. They wouldn’t even allow him to defend himself. “The accusation alone is proof enough” were their official words. They made him resign.

My father began working as the general manager of a chain of luxury refinery. The girls that he hired took a liking to him, and when he turned down their advancements, they did the same. They accused him of sexually harassing them. When he didn’t. Once again, he was forced to resign. “This has happened twice. If it happens again, we will be forced to revoke your license.” Once again, they didn’t even allow him to defend himself. They wouldn’t see the video footage of him telling them to stop. They wouldn’t see the texts of him telling them to calm down. Because he was male.

And I realized that I, as a woman, held more power than any man ever could. I realized that all it took was mere words to destroy a man’s life. That wasn’t weakness. It wasn’t oppression, not on a woman’s part. I realized that there were shitty men and shitty women. But there was no shortage of good men either. And there was no shortage of good women.

My resentment for men faded, and it faded fast. My resentment for feminism grew for forcing me to be so scared of men, because despite my terrible experiences there were men who were willing to go to prison to defend a woman that they hadn’t known for more than five hours.


My entire point is that you are allowed to be hurt by your past experiences. You are allowed to feel, to grow past it. But don’t harbor the hatred. Don’t turn it against the people who didn’t actually do anything to you. If a man abuses you in any way, shape, or form, it’s on him. It isn’t on the shoulders of every other man in existence.

Misandry isn’t the answer. Don’t let your fear turn into hatred, please. Learn to grow past it. Because no matter how scared you are, there are people strong enough to protect you, who are willing to do so in the blink of an eye. People who don’t even know you who still love you enough to treat you like family. And it’s not their fault that there are fucked up people. People, not just men. People.

anonymous asked:

But you have know idea how much the team at Pixar researched about Mexican culture. From my visit to Mexico music was a huge part of the culture and musicians used the guitar alot. Unfortunately Guillermo del Toro's (producer of BOL) movies haven't been doing well. And (director of BOL) Jorge isn't barely known. Also coco is Co directed and written by Adrian Molina. Someone of Latino origin. I'm sure he understands the culture. Using the same holiday isn't really a rip off.

I have no issue with Pixar doing a well researched film on Dia de Los Muertos. My problem is that Disney and Pixer outright passed on A Book of Life and then decided “never mind we will do it” and then couldn’t even be bothered to hire an actual Mexican director. And then decided to have a plot very similar to The Book of Life, a film they, again, rejected because it would not get interest in America. 

I am also not going to just forget the fact Disney grossly tried to copyright “Dia de Los Muertos”, they literally tried to copyright a Mexican Holiday so they could make money of it. It would mean actual Mexicans would have to pay Disney to use Dia de los Muertos. This is gross. It would be like a Mexican film company trademarking Christmas. 

I am Latina myself. There is a difference between being Latino and being Mexican in this case. Dia de Los Muertos is a Mexican Holiday and they should have hired an actual Mexican director to actually do the project. 

Again I am not going to stop people from watching this. Am I glad to see our cultures getting more attention, yeah. But I’m also not going to let Disney get away with what they did just because of whom they are. We need to hold companies accountable.  

This isn’t about Pixar not being able to make a film like this. It is about the shady history behind this film and Disney’s treatment of A Book of Life before practically ripping it off.  

  • Draco: -this is me when I was two, playing with Crabbe and Goyle. Look at how adorable I was.
  • Harry: Uh... Malfoy...
  • Draco: And here I am at the Minister's birthday with Father.
  • Harry: Isn't it usually the parents who go out of their way to embarrass their kids with the baby photos?
  • Draco: Why on earth would I be embarrassed? Do you not see how cute I was as a baby? Pay attention, Harry.
  • Harry: ...
  • Draco: Oh, look! Here I am waving at-