would somebody care

So apparently Christian Borle loves legos, and now I’m just picturing him sitting on the floor with a huge pile of legos surrounding him, just building little Ferraris and millennium falcons and stuff.

So I am still thinking about how Oblo was so sure Yondu would save them before they went out the airlocks (I think this scene and his plea is gonna haunt me), so I figured that they were saved, before, by Yondu when things went south.

And I think it would be just the funniest thing, when someone would actually manage to capture a bunch of Ravagers plus lil’ Peter to sell them – be it for bounty or as slaves – and the Ravagers are, if anything, just really annoyed by the whole ordeal and like 120 % sure that their Captain is gonna show up and help them.

And the bounty hunters just laugh in their faces.

“Ye think one man is enough to fight all of us?”

Tullk snorts, Oblo snickers, and Kraglin rolls his eyes. They are bound and roughened up, but they still have the gal to look like they are saying “Dude, seriously?”

It’s Peter who speaks up, beyond furious because those guys stole his Walkman from him. “Yondu is gonna kick your ass!”

“Yeah, ye tell ‘im, Pete.”

“Aye, an’ that’d be the nicer thing of Capt’n to do.”

“Yer all dead. Ye jus’ ain’t knowin’ it yet.”

The bounty hunters laugh, even though a few start to look nervous, just a bit.

“We’re hundreds of men, an’ ye still believe that Udonta can handle us alone?!”

The Ravagers exchange looks, sticking their heads together to whisper with each other, before they nod and Kraglin looks up, smirking. “Yer all dead.”

Before there is more protest or the hunters can take out their anger on them, there’s a faint whistling, followed by screams and yells and crackling over the comms before the screams abruptly end and the whistling gets louder.

Only the Ravagers are laughing and Peter is cheering as chaos breaks out around them, orders being bellowed from “He’s comin’!” to “Shoot ‘im down, shoot ‘im the fuck down!”.

Because nobody takes something from Yondu Udonta without paying a high price for it.

anonymous asked:

I genuinely hope you find happiness in England, and I hope the nhs can help you- free healthcare rocks :> <3

ME. FUCKING. TOO. this year has been a /catastrophe/ for me as someone chronically and mentally ill and not getting the healthcare ive needed…

man like the month i just spent in London w Sam was so good and it was so good FOR me…before i left i was so sick, i didnt think id be able to do ANYTHING while i was there…but it was amazing, being able to be with someone i really loved, who wanted to help me manage all my problems without any complaints (they went and bought a ton of food that i could eat before i even got there bc i have weirdly specific dietary needs lmao) and it was just. so nice. we were able to watch out for each other and we both benefitted from it so much. i was still sick, i still had pain and fatigue and anxiety but i also had THEM and they didnt hold any of my disability against me even once. and after a relationship where i was routinely manipulated as a result of the help i needed just to live with my illnesses, it was…world-changing.

and if i could get good health care ON TOP OF THAT boy oh boy we are in business i might actually be able to really focus on my art again and start living the life i WANT 

anonymous asked:

Does the angel symbolism with Juuzou mean anything? It's pretty obscure at the moment unless I'm missing something, I'm totally confused to be honest!

It’s a quote from 137, Overflowing Flowers, that Juuzou remembers as he’s recollecting Shinohara just as Shinohara is tortured in front of him. It sounds really deep, but basically it’s what Shinohara thinks of Juuzou. Remember, much earlier in the story Juuzou was compared to something that was entirely empty on the inside. 

Juuzou lacks a strong internal personality or even a motivator because he never really received any love or anything to form an identity in his formative years. Big Madame deprived him of all of that, kept him locked into a cage until he was near feral, then handed him punishments and rewards based on his action. For Juuzou there was nothing internal, no motivator, all of his motivators were external because they were based on trying to earn rewards and avoid punishments. What was good or bad was dictated to him from an outside source. 

If an adult is somebody who has a full fledged internal personality and can make individualized decisions based on that, then the opposite of that somebody who has no idea of right and wrong internally and has to rely on outside sources to inform them and control their behavior is a child. Which is how Shinohara sees Juuzou.

Shinohara never once viewed Juuzou as a threat, because he saw him as a child, a pure being who could only act in a way they had been influenced by all the negatives of the world at once. In a way Shinohara is right, the inside of Juuzou is still pure, still lacking any internal motivation and only reflecting the environment around him. If Juuzou is cruel, it’s because the CCG allows him to be. If Juuzou is ruthless, it’s because the CCG demands it of him. To Juuzou he no longer has any personal motivation in fighting ghouls, but considers it to just be something he does as a job because the CCG tells him to. Juuzou’s bad behavior stopped, when Shinohara actually set up boundaries around him.

When Juuzou was no longer allowed to lash out at everybody around him, when he realized there was a consequence and he would hurt somebody he cared about he stopped. 

So the angel metaphor is really an explanation of how pure and childike Juuzou truly is. There’s never really been much malice within him, even towards Kaneki who betrayed the CCG, or his worst abuser in his life. Yet atthe same time, we see him racking up one of the highest body counts in the series, because Juuzou is so easily influenced by his outside environment that he becomes a reflection of the same world he is inhabiting. 

In that sense he’s not merely an angel, but a fallen one. 

The Joker x Reader - “Mother”

The Joker doesn’t have a past: nobody knows who he is or where he came from. But he has a Mother and God help the ones finding out the secret: they won’t live to see another day. Even if she is a mystery herself, The King of Gotham wouldn’t trust anybody else because a long time ago Mother proved him wrong when he thought nobody cared.

“So what do you say, Mister J? Would you like to close the deal?”

The Joker takes a deep breath, pretending to weight in the offer, then swiftly answers:

“I don’t do human trafficking.”

“Oh, come on Mister J, there’s such good money from it,” Lex points out towards the piles of $100.00 bills scattered on the negotiation table. The other 6 men in the room nervously watch The King of Gotham, hoping he will change his mind.  They need his territory to expand the business.

“Allow me to show you something,” Lex continues, signaling Jase and the gangster leaves for a couple of minutes, returning with a woman he pushes inside the room, cussing at her as she fights his grip. J is silent, observing the scene without any trace of emotion on his face.

“Take this one for example,” Jase slams you against the wall, telling you to behave. “We got her last night. A little bit on the older side, looks like she is in her mid 30’s, but you know, some clients would still prefer her over the younger ones: she’s beautiful and we can get a few productive years out of her.”

You shiver, disgusted, being so cold you can barely think straight.

J stares you down and the mobster keeps on going:

“One of my men wanted to sample the merchandise this morning and she knocked his lights out. As a punishment, we kept her in the shed outside for hours; almost below zero in this crazy weather. That ought to teach her who’s in charge! It usually does the trick, ain’t that right, honey?” he winks and they all laugh, except The Joker.

You bite on your blue lips so you can feel them again: you were in that shed for so long without a coat, just jeans and a sweater. Frozen to the bone, you can’t control your shaking. You hug yourself in a faint attempt to warm up.

“Cat got your tongue?” another one snickers, thrilled at you present situation. “Mister J,” he turns towards their guest,” would you like to evaluate the assets before you say no the deal? She needs a lesson and you are perfect for the task: do whatever you want with her. I bet you like the feisty ones, don’t…you…?” His smirk turns into a grimace when J gives him a demented glare.

“And how the fuck do you know what I like?” The Joker growls, displeased with the assumption while tapping his fingers on the table. “I’m not a rapist!” he snarls, cracking his neck.

The guys are all fast to talk, realizing they upset him; they had no idea this will take such an unexpected turn.

“No way, Mister J!”

“By all means, we didn’t mean to offend you!”

“She wants it for sure: it’s her job. That’s what whores do!” Jase concludes, trying to convince J of their goodwill.

“And how do you know she’s a whore?” The Clown Prince of Crime smacks his lips, sighing with annoyance.

“Sir, you know that…”

J interrupts, muttering through his clenched teeth:

“The fact that you kidnap somebody and force them into prostitution doesn’t make them a whore!”

The wannabe business partners have no clue on how to reply and why this is sliding on such a dangerous slope so fast: they thought they had it figured out.

“You there!” The Joker shouts, making you gaze his way. “You wanna have sex with me?”he bluntly inquires.

You nod a no and a confirmation is expected:

“Are you sure?”

“Y-yes,” the reply fallows without hesitation.

“She said no,” J becomes even more imposing as soon as he adjusts the collar of his long, white furry coat. “If I force her it’s rape and I am not a rapist,” he underlines the last word, getting pissed.

“Mister J, come on now. We just thought…”

“You thought wrong!” he raises his voice and gets up from the table, stepping towards you, not excited about this stupid evening.

He stops in front of you and takes the coat from his shoulders, placing it around you.

“Are you OK?” he asks, looking you in the eyes.

“U-hum,” you sniffle, already better since the fur is so cozy.

“One of these days you’ll get yourself killed, or worse…” he leans over to whisper in your ear.

The men are getting impatient; something is off.

“The girls are here,” you announce in a low tone, resting your forehead on his chest. “All my children are here; I saw them last night when I was brought to this place.”

“What’s going on?” Jase moves his chair and the others follow.

“SIT. YOUR. ASS.DOWN !!!!!!” J commands with such ferocity they have no choice but to execute his request.

“Who…who is this, Mister J ?” Lex suspiciously brings up the concern they all share.

“This, gentlemen,” he promptly turns towards them, softly caressing your back, “is my Mother. THE Mother,” he emphasizes the statement and it suddenly makes you warmer. It’s the first time in so many years he referred to you as his Mother.

The gangsters exchange quick glances, panicking.

“This is Mother?” Lex holds his breath, hoping it’s all a misunderstanding.

The wild grin on your face and the fact that The Joker admitted to the connection between the two of you confirms their fear: at this point they know none of them will live to tell.


Nobody knew where you came from. Almost 26 back then, you already had a whole underground network going. So much mystery and secrecy surrounding your existence, so many rumors and assumptions about who you really were. Not a single soul was even aware of your real name; everybody just called you Mother.

Why? Because you helped and cared about those that didn’t matter: the ones living on the streets, the ones abandoned by society or deemed to insignificant to take into consideration when they were abused, went missing or forced to perform unspeakable acts simply because they were considered worthless.

You worked bellow the grid and often used less than orthodox methods to accomplish your missions. Even the authorities used you when they had no leads for different unsolvable cases, especially regarding human trafficking. All done behind closed doors, of course: Mother’s name never came up in any reports or in the news when there was an unexpected breakthrough. How could they admit they got help from someone like you?! It would have been such a scandal if the public knew the truth.

Many times you would go undercover yourself, having your crew ready to take action when you gave them the signal. Some other times you would actually be the bait, walking alone at night in less than respectable neighborhoods, especially districts with high volume of kidnappings, allowing yourself to be abducted if the occasion arose.  

It was an opportunity to infiltrate the complicated maze of human smuggling in order to try and save as many as you could. It was your choice and you had your reasons, despite your team’s efforts to make you change your mind.

What you did was very dangerous, that’s why you changed your physical appearance very often: you never looked the same for more than a few days at a time, never stayed for too long at any hideout. Always on the move, hardly traceable or recognizable if you didn’t want to be.


The first time you met him was on a Friday. He hesitantly stepped inside your office at your main hideout and looked nervous noticing all the security around the place. You were sitting at the desk and Kai was standing to your left; he wouldn’t have abandoned that spot even dead.

“How old are you?” you asked the young man, trying to figure out what’s going on with him. He had long brown hair back then, almost elbow length and his blue eyes were a lighter shade than today.

“22…” he muttered.

“More like 19-20,hm?” you called him out on his obvious lie. ”Anyway, what’s you name?”

He struggled to answer.

“I need a name, I don’t care if it’s your real one or not. Make up something!”

“Umm…Jack,” he shortly replied.

“Jack in the Box!” you snorted, amused by the first thought you got when you heard the name. Definitely not the real moniker but it was fine.

You took out a cigarette from the pack and Kai was quick to snatch it.

“You have enough bad habits, Mother,” and he put it inside the jacket of his suit, knowing you are not going to be happy.

“Are you kidding me?! Give that back!”

Kai pretended not to hear and you weren’t excited:

“You’re fired!”

“No I’m not,” he calmly replied and you were about to start giving him a piece of your mind when he just took your hand and kissed it to shut you up. It worked.

“Stop it…” you grumbled, returning your attention towards Jack that was watching the scene without any clue on how to react.

You exhaled, frustrated.

“What do you need help with?”

“Umm…I need a place to stay…”

“Runaway? Bad home?” the interview kept on going and he felt uncomfortable. “I can always tell anyway, no need to confirm,” you cut it short. “You don’t talk too much, do you?”

He really didn’t back in the day.

“I’ll help you as soon as I can verify your story,” you signaled him to get out. “Can’t afford any spies around.”

“I’m not a spy…”

“Said no spy ever,” you sarcastically smirked.

Jack didn’t say anything more before exiting the room.

“What do you think?” you addressed Kai and he leaned over to kiss you.

“I’ll have someone check, babe,” and was already reaching for his cell when you stopped him.

“First give me back my cigarettes!”

“Nope,” and he dialed the numbers while you got pissed.
“You’re fired!”

“You can’t fire your boyfriend,” Kai winked and you kicked his leg, annoyed.

“Never say that laud, you know the rule!!!”

“I’m sorry, Mother, don’t get mad,” he mocked and you really wished you could have fired him but you loved that man too much anyway.


Jack wasn’t a spy; far from it. His background check brought up a bunch of unfortunate events that ending up with him requesting your help. Who else but Mother would have cared about somebody like him? He was actually a bright one, just stubborn and defensive: typical for those having it tough at early ages.

He mostly ran errands and commissions, being quite trustworthy as a courier to your own surprise. Jack also got a place to leave at one of your shelters, away from the past he was trying to escape.

The first encounter with the brutal reality of what it meant to be the Mother of Gotham occurred about after 5 months you took him in. He happened to be there when your crew was able to recover some young girls that disappeared without a trace. They never made it back to the orphanage you placed them at after school. But you didn’t let that slide: you never turned a blind eye to such things.

When your people opened the back of the truck and you saw them, your heart stopped: they looked beaten up and scared to death, clinging to each other like it was the last thing they will ever do. After a few seconds they realized it was you.

“M-Mother?…” one timidly uttered, not believing you were real.

You opened your arms, waiting and then another girl cried out:

“It’s Mother!”

“Mother!” they got the courage to move and jumped out of the vehicle, rushing in your arms while you tried to comfort them: seven girls between the ages of 14 and 16, finally finding some reassurance after being through hell.

“My poor children,” you kept on whispering, distressed, attempting to reach and embrace all of them. “What happened to you?”

A few began to sob and some averted their gaze, whimpering and you just knew.

“Goddamned assholes,” you gasped for air, staring at the grey skies.

“Mother,” Kai approached to report and you signaled your men to take the orphans to the SUVs parked on the side of the road. They were desperate to stay close to you but you convinced them to obey. “They were planning to move them on the West Coast tomorrow morning; great market for the young ones there. We managed to catch a few of them,” he briefed you, showing you the armed van a few steps away.

You stomped and opened the heavy doors yourself, glaring at the men inside, all tight up with gags in their mouth.

“You like innocent young girls, hm? You think because they have nobody you can do what you please with them? In case you didn’t know, they are not alone: they do have a Mother !!!!” you yelled, rabid and panting with indignation. “Grenade!” you requested one from the men close to you. He handed you a hand grenade and you were fast to pull the pin and toss it inside, quickly sealing the door. The detonation was quiet, the armed truck containing the blast. Blood started dripping from inside and you just barked at the goons:

“Make sure this disappears!”


One night you were traveling between hideouts without escorting cars; so rare for you to do that but you were in a big hurry. Kai was driving and he noticed you were being followed.

“We have several tails,” he accelerated and you called your men for an emergency intervention.

“We are being followed: deploy a convoy right away. I’m on Mulberry Hill, heading west! Hurry up!!” You barely finished when two cars coming from the opposite direction slammed into your van, then the ones behind crashed your vehicle, forcing it off the cliff. Everything happened so fast you didn’t have time to say a word; Kai died on impact and you almost lost your life also, but your people found you in time. You didn’t wake up for a week: you had five broken ribs, a punctured lung, several fractures, bruises and cuts on your entire body.

Your crew turned one of the hideouts in a clinic since you couldn’t be taken to a regular hospital. While unconscious, so many came to see you, worried about your health: hundreds of souls you helped and still helping, aware that if you were gone, there was nobody left to fight for them. Not in the way you did anyway.

Jack has seen nothing like it before, finding himself admiring and envying the respect you were given.

Your most trusted men and women were there when you called upon them after you woke up. Jack and some young ones were summoned by the crew also, awaiting orders. You were in such a bad shape you could barely speak.

“Kai…is…is…dead…” and you started crying, heartbroken at the news you had found out upon your awakening. “And they couldn’t…” and you gulped, heartbroken, “…save my baby…”

“Mother…” Richard took your hand, holding it and you didn’t even feel it. The others were silent, grieving your loss too. Jack had no idea you were pregnant, just a few closer to you aware of the secret.

“I can’t have children … anymore…” you continued to mumble, “…but I’m not childless…I…have so, so many children…Every single one I help…is my child…” and the doctor injected your sleeping medication because you were in so much physical and mental pain. Your eyelids got heavy and Elsie encouraged the team to get out and let you rest. Jack lingered behind for a little bit, gazing at the broken Mother. He didn’t know why, but he remained by your side, planting a soft kiss on your swollen lips and whispered before heading out:
“Try not to die you horrible woman.”

It took a few months for you to recover but you weren’t able to do anything afterwards.You locked yourself up in one bedroom at your penthouse and refused to see any faces. You couldn’t get over your despair of losing the man you loved and your baby. From time to time you would open the door and asked for food or cigarettes, your bodyguards noticing a lot of Kai’s clothes scattered around and baby garments you would hold to your chest. You were in such bad shape they were seriously concerned about your wellbeing.

“Bring me a pack,” you would ask, rubbing your red eyes. “He can’t tell me I can’t smoke,” and you would close the door, bursting into tears and cry yourself to sleep.

So many needed help and you didn’t care. Your crew tried their best yet Mother was desperately wanted back.

** “Mother,” your henchmen would knock at the door. “Some of the young ones left: Jack, Kailey, Brian and Lara. They said they are getting out of town. We need new couriers; who should we hire?”

“I don’t give a shit! You can all go to hell!” you would hiss and they had to make it work the best way they could.

** “Mother, young girls and boys are missing from District 7! We got a trace, do we have green light to move?”

“I fucking don’t care!!!” you would shout, pissed they bothered you.

** “Mother, Mister Bruce Wayne is here!” someone would announce.

“He can go to hell too!!” you yelled and he heard since he was a few steps away. You liked to use the orphanages under his patronage to place your children in, they were the safest. Under the radar, of course, not too many knew about your connection.

“I’m so sorry sir,” your people would apologize, “She’s…not feeling well.”

“That’s fine,” he nodded in acceptance, aware of what’s going on with you. “I’ll be back.”

** “Mother, Taysha is here, she needs help.”

“Don’t care!!!!”

But the 10 year old started whaling at the door, pounding with her little fists against the heavy oak door.

“Mother!!! Mother, please!!!! My sister is missing, I didn’t see her in a week!!! Please, Mother, help me!”

There was no response and they tried to take her away while she was screaming and fighting them.

“Mother!!! Mother!!!!” the little girl didn’t give up and you finally cracked the door, telling them to let her go.

“Where was she last seen?”


You slowly went back to what you were doing since you had no choice: no one else willing to take your place or aid those that nobody cared about. A few years went by and one night you were watching the news, when something got your attention: they were talking about The Joker, a criminal emerging from out of nowhere, accused of several acts of violence, arson, blackmail and robbery.

“Hm…” you tilted your head, deep in thought. “Kind of looks familiar…” and you held your pillow tighter, debating. “Oh my God!!!” it clicked. “It’s Jack in the Box! Honey, it’s Jack in the Box!” you turned towards Kai’s side of the bed, smiling. From time to time you placed his favorite suit by you, pretending he’s still alive and talked to him. “Remember the kid with long hair and blue eyes running errands for us? He looks sooo different but it’s him! You know I never forget a face!” You were pleased with the revelation and hoped you can twist it in your favor. You caressed the tiny yellow onesie on your tummy, a small token of your lost baby that you couldn’t part with:

“I wonder what happened to him…”


Your first encounter was at a strip club where you infiltrated as a dancer, your sources telling you The Joker would be there that week. He showed up one night and was heading towards the VIP room for a meeting when one of the girls lined up for the customers got his attention. You gazed at each other for a few moments and he just knew: that was Mother standing there, playing with her pink, neon hair while giving him a small wink. You looked so different but he never forgets a face.

“I want a private dance first,” he sneered, halting in front of the dancers, pointing his cane towards you. The young girl besides you froze: no older than maybe 15, hardly holding in her anxiety: he didn’t seem friendly to say the least. Not that any of them ever did.

“Don’t worry, it’s not for you,” you talked loud enough for her to hear you over the blasting music and she swallowed the lump in her throat, relieved.

“I want her in the Gold Room,” The Joker made his request known and he got what he wished for.

“Of course, Mister J,” they obliged and you followed the green haired man in the private room, parting the colorful beads as he sat down on the chair in the middle, waiting.

You kept a fake grin on your face, not breaking eye contact while kicked his legs opened to get in between and started to dance for him.

“Hello, Mother,” J growled under his breath, enjoying the show nevertheless.

“Well if it’s not my favorite son, alive and breathing,” you grabbed his hands and slid them down your hips.

“I was never your favorite,” he sighted, annoyed.

“True,” you admitted, sitting in his lap. “Don’t blow up my cover; they have 2 cameras in here,” you pulled on his bottom lip, making it all seem normal since they were watching for sure.

“I will have to kill you since you know too much about me,” he yanked at your waist and there was such darkness in those eyes he probably meant it.

“Not if I kill you first,” you replied with such determination you probably meant it.

“Mister J, are you well taken care of?” one of the club owners peeked inside and you quickly squeezed J’s cheeks together, kissing his puckered lips.

“Yeah, I am. Get out so I can enjoy my dance!!!” he angrily threw his cane towards the man, making him apologize and back out in a frenzy.

“They brought in a shipment two days ago, the youngest girl 13 and the youngest boy 14. I came in so I can confirm for my team standing by for my signal. This time we have FBI coming in the next 30 minutes. Anonymous tip, of course, “ you stroke his pale forehead, playing your part. “Don’t go to your meeting, just leave after I’m done.”

“Why are you telling me this?” he sucked on his silver teeth, debating.

“Because I believe we can help each other. You know who I am and what I’m capable of. And you have connections I might have to add to my list. I don’t give a damn about what you do as long as it serves my needs. OK?”

“I’ll think about it…” The Joker slapped your butt and stuck a few hundred bills in your lacy thong when you got up and bent over in front of him:

“Don’t push it!” you grouchily admonished.

“You told me not to blow your cover. Make up your mind!”


“Are you better now?” J hands you over a glass full of whiskey and you close your eyes as a yes, sipping from your drink and watch the flames burning in the fireplace. You wanted to go to his penthouse after tonight’s incident and finally feel warm; you were so cold for so many hours.

“If you catch pneumonia and die, can I inherit your fortune?” J huffs, piling up a bunch of blankets and furs in front of the fireplace.

“No,” you snicker, crawling over on the made up bed, exhausted.

“Humor me: if you die, what am I supposed to engrave on your headstone? I need a name.”

“Mother is fine,” The Joker gets his elusive reply.

“You give me no choice: I have to kill you for talking to me like this!”

“Not if I kill you first!” you gesture for him to join you and he complies.

You snuggle to him and he’s silent before reprising his usual comeback:

“One of these days we’ll have to have sex so we can get it out of our system.”

“I don’t think so,” you roll your eyes and cover his mouth. He takes it and kisses it, purring.

“You borrowed one of my t-shirts and boxers tonight, I need payment.”
“Ughhh, I liked you better back in the day when you didn’t talk too much,” you elbow him and turn away, getting comfortable.

“Hey, what about a quickie?”

“No,” you chuckle and he hugs you from behind, upset:

“How dare you ??!! I really have to kill you now!”

“Just try,” you yawn, “ keeping his hand captive, “ I’m telling your girlfriend you’re hitting on me”.

“Don’t start anything ! Women always side to get a guy in trouble,” he sniffles, outraged. 

You probably would tell her.

“Then let me sleep and she won’t hear a peep out of me.”

“Fine, you teasing cougar!”  

You burst out laughing, amused.

“Wooow, nobody ever called me that, at least not to my face,” you keep on laughing, repositioning yourself in his arms while he smells your hair, irritated.

The Joker doesn’t have a past: nobody knows who he is or where he came from. But he has a Mother and she is the only one to keep his secrets. Even if she is a mystery herself, The King of Gotham wouldn’t trust anybody else because a long time ago Mother proved him wrong when he thought nobody cared.




“I know what it’s like to be under the control of a man. To feel like you have no power…and the only way to get that power back is to shut down. You tell yourself you must shut down. You tell yourself to never show any emotion - to anybody. I know what that’s like. It’s the only way you can survive.”


Hi guys!! My fiance and I got home this evening to find a kitten (only about 12 weeks old) hiding on our porch!! It was pouring rain, and my mom had fed him, but he was drenched and cold. We picked him up and held him, and he ADORES attention. We’ve heard this kitten crying for about a week now at night, and our garbage has been broken into multiple times, so we found the culprit!

It’s obvious he had an owner, loves being held, pet, but seems to be afraid of other cats and dogs. (Although our 8 month old cat won’t leave him alone, she already loves him) We found him in the Chautauqua area, in Jamestown. Please, if anybody knows where this kitten goes, or ANYBODY willing to take him in, please contact me at koilitheartist@gmail.com !!! I’ll be willing to discuss exact locations of where he was found there. So if you have any idea or know anywhere he might’ve come from, PLEASE contact me! We don’t have room for him!

I’d like to try to find his owner personally, and we can’t afford to take him to a shelter right now, and I don’t want him back on the street. We’ll call around tomorrow morning to see if any shelters will take him in for free, but for now, please spread this around!! I want him back home, or to somebody who would take care of him!

(6-19-17 UPDATE) Turns out he’s litter trained, so he obviously belonged to somebody at one point!! He was absolutely exhausted, he slept throughout the day and the whole night, and now he’s napping again. Other than that, he’s very healthy! We still have yet to hear anything about anybody who knows him.We got a text from somebody who just wanted him, but didn’t give us any information about themselves. I’m scared to give him away to someone random, I want to make sure they have good intentions.Thank you all so much for sharing this as much as you all have so far!! I hope we can find him his home!

An Open Letter to The Fosters Writers, From Disabled Fans

Dear Writers,

We come to you, first and foremost, as fans of The Fosters.  We have watched the show from the very beginning.  As twins, we loved seeing twins on screen.  As adoptees, we saw ourselves and our feelings articulated by Jesus and Mariana, in particular.  And when Jesus was recast with Noah Centineo in the role, we appreciated Jesus even more, for the tender, nuanced performances Noah gave.

Along with the identities we hold as twins and adoptees, though, we are also disabled.  Both of us were born with Cerebral Palsy (a disability resulting from brain damage at birth) and Tara sustained a subsequent brain injury at the age of 16, just as Jesus did.  We appreciate seeing such things as Jesus and Mariana’s difficulty relating following Jesus’s injury, seeing the reality of aphasia on screen and watching Jesus as he deals with friends that are pulling away from him following his injury.  

We also have concerns.   And as you have done such a fine job depicting other minority groups (LGBTQ+ in particular), we thought, as members of a minority group you are now representing on screen, you may want to hear from us on some things we find troubling in 4B-5A (5x04 is about to air at the time of this writing.)

This is our reality.  

Please hear us.

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Arranged Marriage: Sehun Edition. Part 10

Here it iiis!

Desclaimer: So people, I am so sorry for not posting for so long, but I had the most important exams of my life and I also procrastinated a lot, but now it’s summer and I also remembered why I love writing so much so expect at least two updates from me every week! <3

Warning: More angst, more fluff, a long ramble from Sehun and how his life before marrying and more angst. enjoy <3

Originally posted by laygion

(imagine this gif in the middle (you’ll know when) and it will become 100 times better believe me<3)

PART 1 |PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7| PART 8 | PART 9 | PART 10 | PART 11


“Have fake marriages become such a frequency that we don’t react even if it’s happening right in front of our eyes? Has it become a regular occurrence to be married because of money, fame, business? If not, then why is it that we decide to close our eyes, even if it’s obvious that CEO Oh Sehun didn’t marry by love? Or is it the other way around? Is the CEO’s wife being forced into this so called marriage?”

I closed my laptop with a loud thump, refusing to read any further. New articles were being released almost every day about my marriage and the subject was the same in every single one of them.

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Me: nah man, I don’t believe in ghosts or any of that shit
Someone: *pulls out ouiji board*
Me: FUCK no

Astro's Ideal Personality Type

Requested by anon!

MJ: I think that MJ would want a girl that had a good sense of humor and loved to laugh. Because let’s face it that kid is pretty weird (but we love him for it). He would definitely want a girl that was in touch with her playful side.

JinJin: JinJin would want a girl that’s into cliche romances because he seems like the type of boyfriend that would always give you gifts and tell you how much he loves you. He would also want somebody to cuddle with ALL THE TIME because he is a puppy.

Eunwoo: Eunwoo would probably want somebody that is honest and kind. He seems like somebody that would want a girl that would never lie to him and would be very supportive and kind.

Moonbin: I feel like Moonbin would be a mixture of a lot of these girls. He would want somebody honest and caring, somebody funny and intelligent, somebody that would love him for who he is. He seems like he would be very patient if they weren’t super physically affectionate or very verbal about their feelings in the beginning of the relationship. I don’t think he would specifically like an outgoing girl better than a shy girl or vice versa. Moonbin would want a girl that was also trustworthy, somebody he could tell anything to. He seems like the person that would want to get to know somebody first and probably be friends before dating. His type wouldn’t be specifically set on anything, in my opinion. He would also probably love to have a girl that likes cheesy romances. Moreso because I see him as being a very loving boyfriend and he would always want to treat his girlfriend like a queen.

Rocky: Rocky would want to be with someone that is very understanding in the fact that he may not be a super verbal person. He seems like the type that would show more that tell (that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t say he loves you all the time though). I also think he would want a very passionate person (like a person that is very passionate about something much like the way Rocky is with his dancing).

Sanha: Sanha would definitely want somebody that is sweet and energetic because this kid is a giant ball of energy. He’d also want somebody that was patient and understanding of his random actions (even better someone who liked them)

Imagine #4.5 // JB

REQUESTED // Please do a part 2 to the bora bora imagine x

You stood with an attitude the whole time Justin tried to make small talk as he meandered around the villa you’d rented. It was extremely priceless and there were many things in it you would be looking at too if it was your first time seeing it, but you knew Justin and he didn’t normally notice nice things. He was just dragging out your time together now. You had to admit, it was kinda nice to see him in person again. You could keep getting more and more angry while seeing pictures of him in the media, you could keep telling yourself he ain’t shit, but it was confirmed now as he stood in front of you, in the flesh, that he would always be somebody you cared about. 

Sighing, you took a seat and offered for him to do the same. You didn’t look at him for a minute, but you could feel his eyes on you - on your sandy shins, your toned stomach, your splurge sunglasses. It made you happy that you could finally act like you were happier without him and have it affect him.  A lot of things had changed for you in a short amount of months, the biggest was that you took his advice and invested a lot of your energy into loving yourself. It seemed that once you did that, other people followed suit. Now, you were surrounded by complete positivity. 

“You look really good,” he sputtered after a good few moments of silence. The way this seemed to slip out make you chuckled breathlessly before finally swinging your head around to look at him, “I’m not just saying that because that’s what we’re supposed to say.”

“Thank you,” you giggled at his awkwardness, watching the smile creep to the corners of his lips as he heard your laugh for the first time in almost nine months, “You look good, too. Though I still owe you a punch in the face for the dreads and another one if you don’t let your fucking hair grow out,” for some strange reason, you were tempted to touch it - his hair. Knowing it would be much softer than usual, and you were honestly glad he finally cut the horrible dread locks off. He jumped as you moved from your seat to perch on the arm of his, running your hand along his head. Justin jumped instinctively at the sudden touch and proximity before leaning into your hand. You were silent for a minute, enjoying each other’s presence before the unavoidable conversation would ruin the finally calm atmosphere surrounding you. Finally, you let out a sigh, moving back to your seat facing him skeptically, “What are you doing here, Justin?”

“I don’t know,” he sounded like a five year old who was being asked why he colored on the wall, “I guess I thought that if you were in another place you would be less angry and you would finally listen,” he paused and you looked out towards the ocean - to where your friends were enjoying the unbelievably sunny day together, “You don’t understand how much I’ve missed you, Y/N.”

“No, I do - because I’ve missed you just as much,” you said this without hesitation, completely predicting the hopeful expression he soon wore. There was pause as you studied his warm smile for a couple seconds, “I wasn’t kidding when I said I was starting to get over you, though, Justin. And you just can’t give me the stability I need. I have nothing against you, and I’ll always love you, and it’s okay if you want to check in every once in awhile-”

“So there’s just…nothing I can do,” he chuckled breathlessly as if this was the most unlikely thing he could think of, “I’m not gonna let you go, if that’s what you think’s about to happen, Y/N. If I haven’t been making that fucking clear enough in the past eight fucking months-”

“It hasn’t just been eight months, though, Justin! I was unhappy before we broke up, and if I haven’t made that fucking clear in the last eight months, then you haven’t been listening very well,” you paused as he clenched his jaw, looking out the patio door, “You’ve changed, not just towards your fans, but towards everyone. Do you hear the way you speak to people sometimes? Scooter? Your mom? How you used to speak to me? You’re too angry at whatever it is you hate so much that you’re directing it at your loved ones. You’re too stubborn and set on getting your way with me that I bet you haven’t even stepped back and thought about why I’m so intent on staying far away from you-”

“That doesn’t mean anything, you haven’t seen me for so long, I’ve changed-”

“Are you even listening? I’ve seen all of the videos of you with fans, I’ve seen all of the media slips, your little flings - you think I don’t pay attention to that stuff?,” you shook your head, laughing without humor before standing, “I’m not stupid, and neither are your fans. If you’re not gonna be there for them, then I will, and if this is the only way to get your attention, know that I’m watching. Don’t just tell me you’ve changed to get me back, do it.”

With that you walked back out into the hot sun, not looking back towards the beach house.

Do you ever miss someone with your entire being but you’re afraid to tell them in case you scare them away forever

A quick meta on Zane Ro’meave

Note: This is me finally answering an ask I gotten forever ago and I finally have time to chill, as well as giving reasons why (even though I dislike both), I could at least appreciate Zane in MCD a little more than that mess known as Mystreet!Zane.

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Perhaps they know somehow that I’ve got so much to give. Perhaps it’s that that frightens them. I feel I’ve got such boundless, boundless love to give to somebody–I would care for somebody so utterly and so completely–watch over them–keep everything horrible away–and make them feel that if ever they wanted anything done I lived to do it. If only I felt that somebody wanted me, I should become a different person. Yes; that is the secret of life for me–to feel loved, to feel wanted, to know that somebody leaned on me for everything absolutely–for ever.
—  Katherine Mansfield, from The Collected Stories; Late At Night