you can't stop this girl from falling more in love with you

hamilton songs as things my family/friend group has said on our New Zealand trip (act 1)
  • alexander Hamilton: it's me, that bitch from that island
  • aaron burr: who are you and who are me and who are they
  • my shot: the gangs all here hahaha! [whispers] i don't think I'll survive this.
  • the story of tonight: when I'm gone... remember me [falls into the kiddie pool dramatically]
  • the Schuyler sisters: my life compromises of shitty flirting and people forgetting I exist
  • farmer refuted: if we fight like an old married couple then you... you look like a... a-a... a dog!
  • you'll be back: I miss you but I'll never admit that to any one but this chip I'm about to eat
  • right hand man: I'm not that cool and can't handle any big responsibilities why are you giving me this egg
  • a winters ball: how do you wink
  • helpless: i FUCKING do
  • satisfied: well there goes another unfortunately attractive missed opportunity
  • the story of tonight(reprise): I'm not drunk you are
  • wait for it: the drying machine has been drying my clothes for three hours but I'm too scared to open it in case my clothes haven't dried yet.
  • stay alive: I may be on the verge of death but I'm still a raging homosexual
  • ten duel commandments: this bitch bout to be SHOT
  • meet me inside: ive got 100 problems and daddy issues are 89.78% of them
  • that would be enough: I fucking hate you why won't you love me
  • guns and ships: the freNCH FRY IS ZOOM ZOOMING
  • history has its eyes on you: when I was your age...
  • yorktown(the world turned upside down): violin more like vioLIT
  • what comes next: this bitch really thinks that she can just leave hold my hoops girls. [ten seconds later] WAIT I don't care never mind.
  • dear theodosia: look at this tiny human IVE CREATED IT LOOK AT IT!
  • non-stop: all I do is work baby [eating chips on a couch watching food network]

i just wanted you to tell me.
when things were getting hard again,
when all you felt was a whirlwind in your head,
when you went out with girls who weren’t me.

i wanted you to describe the people you fell in love with:
why you loved them, how they treated you,
if you still fight with yourself about
if you are worth anything or not because
they made you question your self-worth every day.
i wanted you to tell me about the things they did right,
about why they’re still in and out of your life,
about how you ran into them in the supermarket
the other day and you still felt something
when you hugged them goodbye.

i wanted you to tell me
about all of the the mistakes you made
and why you made them.
i wanted you to introduce me
to all of the monsters under your bed.
i wanted to hear about the happiest you’ve ever been
even if it wasn’t with me.
i wanted to hear about your boss and your job
and the new car you were thinking of buying.
i wanted to see the two apartments you were looking at
and try to decide with you which is better.

i wanted to know about the times
you’ve thought about driving your car off a cliff
and the little moments that made you re-think it.
i wanted to be there to celebrate your triumphs
and admire your strength - i wanted to know everything
about you so i could love you anyway.

but i guess with you, i found out not everyone is like me.
not everyone blurts out their whole life story
every time they are given the chance.
and i just wanted you to tell me
who made you feel like you couldn’t open up,
who hurt you so bad that you couldn’t let me in,
somebody who honest to god,
would have loved you no matter what.

but i ask you how you are and you say “not bad”
and then you ask about me
and you wake up in another girl’s bed
because you don’t know how to open up
and you let me find out months later
because you don’t know how to open up
and you let me hear stories about you from other people
because you don’t know how to open up

and it’s just sad, how all i wanted was to help
but you’ve never done anything but run from my love
and i get it
i guess
some people are just more reserved
and some people are afraid
and some people don’t take people up on offers to talk about it
even if the other person insists
and you can’t force people to let themselves fall in love with you.
you can’t force them to open up.

but aren’t there things that make you want to scream?
aren’t there things that make you want to cry?
aren’t there things you are so passionate about that
if you don’t let them out, you feel like you’re drowning?
don’t you ever hear something and can’t wait to tell me?
i guess what i’m trying to ask is
if you really have so little passion
or if you’re just not passionate about me.

—  we were sitting across from each other screaming, but i was the only one making a sound
The Chamber of Secrets, a summary
  • Dobby: Harry Potter must not go to Hogwarts!
  • Harry: The fuck are you Hogwarts4lyfe
  • Dobby: *Pudding crashes and burns worse than Snape's love life*
  • Uncle Vernon: HARRY DIDJA PUT YER NAME IN THE GOBLET AHV FYA- I mean *clears throat* NO FOOD FOR YOU BITCH WELCOME TO CONCENTRATION CAMP DURSLEY
  • Harry: fuck
  • Ron: *mass breakout*
  • Vernon: *falls out window*
  • Fred'n'George: sup
  • Mrs. Weasley: BoYs YaLl DoNe It NoW GeT yo SoRrY AsSeS oVeR HeRe- except you Harry nothing's ever your fault an btw thanks for almost getting my son killed last year
  • Ginny: *highkey stalker*
  • Floo powder: lol you thought things would go right in your life
  • Draco: *exists*
  • Harry: He'S FuCkInG Up tO SoMeThInG
  • Hagrid: *saves Harry from being raped*
  • Hermione: sup
  • Lockhart: OMG IT'S HARRY POTTER HERE TO BOOST MY HALLWAY CRED- I mean- *coughs* you have a few fans yourself, I hear- HERETAKEMYBOOKSTAKETHEMALL
  • Lucius: *is an ass*
  • Aurthur: *fights a bitch*
  • Lucius: *here have this book it's pretty and talks to you but be careful it may possess you*
  • Platform 9 3/4: *is an ass*
  • Ron: Let's just take the flying car illegally instead of just owling Hogwarts or waiting for my parents
  • Harry: k
  • Car: *eighties action music*
  • Harry: can you hear that?
  • Ron: we must be getting close!
  • Harry: hold on-
  • *music grows louder*
  • Hogwarts express with Thomas face on it: DUN DUN DUN DUUN DUN DUN, DUUUUN
  • Car: *crashes*
  • Tree: *is an ass*
  • McGonagall: Idfc just go away here have a sandwich
  • Hermione: sup
  • Shit: hello friends
  • Wall: ThE ChAmBeR Of SeCreTS HaS BeEN OPenEd EnEmIeS oF The HeiR BeWArE
  • Mrs. Norris: hanging by noose from ceiling
  • Harry Ron and Hermione: *are there*
  • Filch: Y'all killed my cat IMMA KILL YA
  • Dumbledore: Bruh you accusing the great Harry Potter?!? If it was anyone else I wouldn't care but since it's Harry SHUT UP
  • Malfoy: *is a slithery Slytherin*
  • Harry: He's the heir
  • Hermione: *starts making potion*
  • Myrtle: *moans*
  • Colin: *takes pictures of Harry*
  • Harry: ew fuck stop
  • Lockhart: StOp YoU cAn'T bE MoRe PopUlAr thAn mE- I mean *coughs* it's unwise to hand out pictures until you're as famous as me
  • Harry: *gets detention* *is worse than Umbridge's blood quill* *hears hissing* *doesn't suspect it could be a snake which is the animal that hisses*
  • Hermione and Ron: sup
  • Harry: can you hear that
  • Ron and Hermione: wtf no you must be insane
  • Harry: lol tru
  • Lockhart: *has dueling club*
  • Snape: *kicks his ass with the disarming spell*
  • Lockhart: totally meant for that to happen now give me a moment while I restart my heart
  • Hermione: *is killed by Millicent but somehow manages to get a hair*
  • Snape: Harry fight Draco
  • Harry and Draco: *fight*
  • Draco: *snakeness intensifies*
  • Harry: (to snake) bruh calm down mate
  • Snake: k
  • Snape: *kills snake*
  • Ernie: Bruh you tryina kill me
  • Harry: lol no but I should asshole
  • Ron: Harry why didn't you tell me you had a completely dead ability when you didn't even know it existed or that it was rare
  • Harry: idk snakes are cool
  • Person: *petrified*
  • Teachers: maybe we should give a shit
  • Dumbledore: lol nope
  • Quidditch: *happens*
  • Draco: training for the ballet, Potter?
  • Harry: *trains for ballet* *breaks arm*
  • Lockhart: OMG GET OUT OF MY WAY I HAVE TI HEAL HARRY IT WILL BOST MY READERSHIP I mean *coughs* I've done this a thousand times
  • Harry's Arm: *is bendy*
  • Harry: *goes to infirmary* *hears extremely important information*
  • Polyjuice: *happens*
  • Draco: blah blah blah mud blood blah blah blah poor blah blah blah whydoesntpotterloveme
  • Draco: *isnt heir*
  • Harry and Ron: well shit *get the hell outta doge*
  • Hermione: *is cat*
  • Harry: *finds moist book in a girl's bathroom* Imma take this
  • Harry: *ignores more murderous hissing*
  • Diary: hello friend no more sadness today
  • Harry: seems legit
  • Diary: here look at this memory I'm Tom Riddle
  • Harry: k
  • Memory: *happens*
  • Harry: boi why da fk you lyin
  • Hagrid: *is taken to Azkaban because we needed to introduce it for the next book*
  • Harry and Ron: *follow spiders*
  • Spider dude: We do not speak the name of the giant snake in your pipes now excuse me while my children murder you
  • Car: *is real hero of the story*
  • Hermione: *is petrified*
  • Harry and Ron: Shit
  • Hermione: *has clue casually hidden in her hand but takes weeks to find*
  • Harry: ohh it's a Basilisk dats why I can hear it
  • Ginny: *is taken*
  • Professors: *finally give a shit*
  • Lockhart: lol nope
  • Harry: lol yup
  • Myrtle: yah that sink with the snake on it. I mean, it would've been helpful to tell you about it before but whatever have fun
  • Harry: k thx
  • Myrtle: Harry when you die you should stay in here and fuck me
  • Ron: bye bitch
  • Harry: *hisses*
  • Draco: *in dungeons* *gets boner*
  • Chamber: *is opened*
  • Lockhart: I LOVE YOU HARRY! I mean- *coughs* say goodbye to your memories imma just take credit for your stories like I did for erryone else
  • *uses Ron's broken wand* *hits himself* *cavern collapses conveniently blocking Ron and Douchehart on one side and Harry on the other*
  • Ron: lol rip
  • Harry: k bye
  • Ginny: *is almost dead*
  • Harry: shit
  • Tom: *is hot* *appears menacingly*
  • Harry: sup Tom wanna help
  • Tom: lol nope *takes Harry's wand*
  • Harry: Bruh give me my wand
  • Tom: Snakey go kill this twelve year old
  • Harry: *runs*
  • Snake: *is blinded by random phoenix*
  • Harry: *stabs snake with magic sword* *gets bit* *stabs book*
  • Ginny: sup omg Harry that look like it hurts
  • Harry: *gives speech*
  • Fawkes: *cries*
  • Harry: yay I'm healed
  • Fawkes: gets them past all the boulders magically
  • All: *are free*
  • Dobby: *socks are lyfe*
  • Harry: *roast*
  • Credits: *roll*

Hey so I’m thinking about Kara and M’gann again and I wrote some stuff because goddamn it I am gonna build this city from the ground up if it’s the last thing I do.


strange girls in a strange land

It’s never a secret. For the first time in Kara’s thirteen years on Earth, there’s no great revelation. There isn’t anything to reveal.

This weight that she’s carried with her into every relationship outside the Danvers that she’s ever tried to build since she landed—it suddenly becomes inconsequential, when they’re together. The fact that Kara is Kryptonian, that she is Supergirl. The distinction between Kara Danvers and Kara Zor-El and National City’s resident hero. The deception; the disguise.

There’s no pretense between them, no pretending, no parts to play. They meet in the ring as Supergirl and Miss Martian, and then a few days later Kara Danvers shows up at the alien bar—and M’gann knows. It’s not something she needs to deduce or figure out after they’ve known each other a while. She just looks at Kara and she knows—it’s just a simple unconscious observation, as clear to see as the gold of Kara’s hair or the blue of her eyes.

M’gann slides Kara an Aldebaran rum and Kara doesn’t even realize that she’s still wearing her glasses.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Can you do a drabble for Jily with number 23 or 29 I can't pick? Thank you!

“at it like bunnies”

#23: “The skirt is supposed to be short.”

modern muggle au <3

“The skirt is supposed to be this short.” Lily says, indignant.

Marlene just sniggers. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Your eyebrows did.” Lily inspects herself in the mirror one more time and then turns to face her friend and housemate.

“You look great, can we go now?” Marlene asks, finishing off the bottle of wine in her hand in one take.

“Is she ready?” Mary pops her head around the door, looking hopeful. Lily frowns at both of them. “Aw, don’t be like that Lils, you’ve been an hour.”

“We’re prinking!”

“No, you’re primping.” Marlene just manages to dodge the cushion Lily throws at her.

“Fine then, let’s go.” Lily grabs her bag and pulls Marlene up from the bed.

“She’s ready!” Mary yells as they head downstairs, and the responding cheer from the kitchen makes Lily frown again.

Marlene slings a comforting arm around her shoulder. “We love you really.”

If this was a normal night, Lily would have been ready a long time ago. As it stands though, it’s a fancy dress night and she has a plan. So she accepts the teasing from her friends as they do one last shot and then leave, heading towards the pub, because she knows it will all be worth it.

Except it’s not, not immediately anyway. The first pub, their usual, is packed full of other uni students in fancy dress, all in varying degrees of effort. A pack of boys have stretched their student budget to buy banana outfits whilst, next to them, two girls are wearing black dresses with wooden placards around their next, informing Lily they’ve been arrested for public disturbance. Tegan scowls when she sees them, because she too has opted for the jailbird look but, unlike them, has gone full out.

Mary, barely a ladybug with a red dress and some wings, orders the first round. It helps Lily ignore the fact that the reason she’s wearing her ridiculous get up isn’t in the pub. It does not help her ignore the two leering freshers, Thing 1 and Thing 2, who are clearly making bets about which one of them can get her number. Leering was to be expected though and, like the teasing, Lily takes it because it will be worth it, no one’s got the guts up yet to actually approach her and because in an outfit like hers, she can’t say she wouldn’t stare either.

It had been Marlene’s idea, and Lily had agreed both because she was desperate and because she’d known she’d look good. And she does. The skirt, as short as humanely possible without showing her arse, and the heels, too high for her own good, make her legs look endless. It’s a look that could kill.

It’s also a look, apparently, which boosts her alcohol tolerance and self assurance. So, by the time they reach a club, despite the several rounds of shots and jaeger bombs, she manages to get passed the bouncers without stumbling once. They dance for what feels like hours, Lily spinning with Mary and Tegan and almost breaking her ankle when she drops to the floor during Low with Gemma. Marlene vanishes and returns with a boy, yelling to the girls that he’s got a party at his house.

They go and Lily has almost forgotten why she is wearing what she’s wearing. Then she steps into the boy’s living room and she remembers.

He’s dancing on the other side of the room, with Sirius, of course, and he looks beautiful. Maybe it’s the disco lighting. Maybe it’s the leather jacket he’s wearing. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s in love with him. Whatever it is, he’s never looked fitter and Lily almost runs out of the room before he can get a chance to see her.

Keep reading

🎶🎶When You Collect Records🎶🎶
  • Hipster: *moves dusty old boxes out of the way* Whoa, an old record player. It looks like it's in working order too! *runs outside*
  • Hipster: Yo, dad!
  • Dad: What?
  • Hipster: We're getting rid of all of poppop's stuff, right?
  • Dad: There's something you want, isn't there?
  • Hipster: There's this old stereo record player in the attic.
  • Dad: What do you need a record player for?
  • Hipster: My record collection.
  • Dad: I didn't even know they still made those things. Can't you just listen to music on your phone?
  • Hipster: Dad, there's a big difference between listening to music digitally and on record.
  • Dad: Fine, I don't wanna get into it with you right now. You can take the record player. You just have to get someone else to take it to your place for you. My truck's full.
  • Hipster: Thanks dad! *smooches dad on the cheek*
  • *later at hipster's apartment*
  • Friend: So, like Patch Adams ends with Patch Adams half-naked in front of a ton of people. I don't know if it was meant to be funny or like a weird sex thing, but like the movie was just a deeply disturbing character study. I can't stop thinking about it.
  • Hipster: That sounds boring. *unlocks door to apartment* Ta-da! Here it is! My new record player!
  • Friend: New? Looks fucking old to me, dude.
  • Hipster: Well, it is old. That's the appeal. And we're going to listen to the new Sufjan record on it.
  • Friend: Is that actually how you say Sufjan? Apparently, I've been pronouncing it wrong this whole time.
  • Hipster: Well, you won't after this record. There's an entire track where he just says his name for four minutes. It's amazing. *plays records*
  • Record Player: *coughs* Hello. Hello! Where am I? Doctor? Hello! Why is it so dark...............................Can I breathe? I can't breath. Oh god, I'm not breathing! Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god! I.....................................
  • Hipster: Uh, that's not Sufjan.
  • Friend: It totally isn't. Is it some guest vocalist? I like the new direction he's going in. No instruments or singing, and long stretches of silence. Very experimental.
  • Hipster: *stops record player* I think maybe we should do something else for now.
  • Friend: Fucking lame! I wanted to listen to more Sufjan.
  • *days later at the record store*
  • Hipster: Yo, I think the Sufjan Stevens record I bought from here might be some kind of mispress.
  • Store Clerk: Really? It's a pretty major album. I doubt there'd just be a mispress like that.
  • Hipster: Yeah, but listen to it. It's not Sufjan at all. It's some girl talking.
  • *hipster and clerk listen to a completely normal Sufjan Stevens album together*
  • Store Clerk: What are you talking about? This is definitely Sufjan Stevens.
  • Hipster: Okay, but it wasn't like that when I listened to it at home! I even listened to it with my friend and he heard the same thing!
  • Store Clerk: Maybe there's something wrong with your record player.
  • Hipster: Hmm, maybe there is.
  • *back at the apartment*
  • Hipster: *turns on record player and just listens*
  • Record Player: ...I'm awake again. Why did I black out? Did I even black out? God, I'm not breathing, but it doesn't matter. Why don't I need to breathe? Am I even alive?
  • Hipster: Can you hear me?
  • Record Player: Doctor. Doctor! DOCTOR! Why can't I move? Why can't I feel anything. Keep yourself together. It'll all make sense soon. Calm down. Just breathe deeply. Fuck, I can't breathe! AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEE! I CAN'T BREATHE! DOCTOR! DOCTOR! DOCTOR! HELP! HELP ME, PLEASE! I'M STUCK! I CAN'T MOVE! PLEASE HELP ME!
  • Hipster: *turns off record player* It's just a recording, I bet. I can't believe I talked to it like an idiot... *nervously turns record player back on*
  • Record Player: I blacked out again. I blacked out. For how long? Is there even time here? Hell. This is hell, right? Did I go to hell.........................................
  • Hipster: *listens to the record player for hours*
  • Record Player: Negative 6893 bottles of wine on the wall! Negative 6893 bottles of wine! Take one down, pass it around, Negative 6894 bottles of wine on the wall... fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME! AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
  • Hipster: *keeps listening*
  • Record Player: Soul of Christ, make me holy, Body of Christ, be my salvation. God, please forgive me. I'm sorry for all of my sins. Please free me. I'm so sorry. Please. Please. Please.
  • Hipster: *still listening*
  • Record Player: FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! SHITTY DOCTOR! FUCK YOU! LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT! *sobs intensely* FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK EVERYTHING! Please just let me go.
  • Hipster: *nervously walks up to record player and lightly taps on it*
  • Record Player: ...A knock. A KNOCK! PLEASE HELP ME! I'M STUCK! PLEASE! *record player begins shake violently*
  • Hipster: *backs away in fear*
  • Record Player: HELP! HELP! HELP ME! PLEASE, IF SOMEONE'S THERE, HELP ME! HELP ME! I'M STUCK! GET ME OUT OF HERE, PLEASE!
  • Hipster: *unplugs record player*
  • Hipster: *gets hammer from the closet and begins to break apart record player*
  • Record Player: *drips red*
  • Hipster: W-What? *cracks front of record player open*
  • *rotting viscera falls from the record player*
  • Hipster: O-Oh... *stuffs viscera back into the record player and duct tapes over it*
  • Hipster: *turns record player back on*
  • Record Player: ...I can feel. It hurts. Why does it hurt now? Why does it hurt? Why? Why? Why? WHY!? WHY!? WHY!? *spurts blood through it speakers and begins to gurgle*
  • Record Player: *hops forward* Please just let me go. Please... please. I'll do anything. I just want to see you again. I'm so sorry. This isn't what I asked for. I'm so sorry. *hops forward again and comes unplugged*
  • Record Player: *tips over, bleeding heavily onto the carpet*
  • Hipster: *silently cleans up the mess*
  • *some time later*
  • Hipster: *calls dad* Hey, dad. Oh, nothing. Uh, I just need to borrow your truck, If not tonight sometime this week. I just need to get rid of something. No, no, that's fine, I can do it myself. Yeah, tomorrow morning is perfect. Thanks Love you too. Bye.
  • *the next afternoon*
  • Dad: So, what did you need to get rid of this morning?
  • Hipster: Nothing important. Just some old junk... Dad, what kind of person was poppop?
  • Dad: Well, he was only the greatest man I've known in my life. Really caring, dedicated to his family. When you were born he loved you so much. He was a bit of a loner, though. It took a lot to get him to open up. Even around me and your grandmother. He was a bit like you. Always a huge music lover.
  • Hipster: I see. Was he ever a doctor?
  • Dad: That's a weird thing to ask. Nope. He hated doctors. Didn't trust modern medicine one bit. It's ironic. His cancer probably wouldn't have gotten to him if he did. But, your poppop was always so stubborn.
  • Hipster: Oh, okay then.
  • *some days later*
  • Friend: New carpet?
  • Hipster: Yup, old one was ugly wasn't it. It was time for a change.
  • Friend: That's what I've been telling you! I'm glad you finally came to your senses. What happened to your record player, though?
  • Hipster: That thing? I threw it away. It was busted.
  • Friend: That sucks. Are you gonna buy a new one?
  • Hipster: No.
  • Friend: But you won't have anything to play your records on.
  • Hipster: Yeah, but I buy records because I want to support the artists. They're not really for listening. Besides, lossless is better. FLAC is the future.
Enough

Happy Birthday @enoughtotemptme! Keeping the tradition alive, here is your birthday ficlet. Remember when I said not canon? Woops. Future fic/au/etc. - you know the drill. Happy birthday love! <3


When Bellamy winces for the third time in as many minutes, Clarke decides she’s had enough.

“Alright, get up.” Ignoring his protests, she rounds the fire and pulls him into a seated position, trying to shove the jacket off his shoulders. He does nothing to help, just sitting there and giving her an infuriating smirk.

“Y’know princess, if I’d known you wanted to—”

“Shut up,” she warns through gritted teeth. “You need to let me look at your arm. Right. Now.”

The smirk disappears. “Clarke, it’s a scratch—”

“A scratch that won’t let you sleep.” She glares at him, and he glares right back. After fifteen very unproductive seconds, Clarke reaches further down and digs her thumb into his forearm. Bellamy swears, loudly.

She folds her ams. “Jacket off.”

Still glaring, he shrugs his arm out, but she doesn’t miss the beads of sweat that trickle from his forehead. He thrusts his arm in her direction.

“Bellamy…” she shakes her head as she takes in the swelling. Just a scratch, indeed. Sighing, she looks at him. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Wasn’t important.”

“Bellamy,” Clarke tilts her head, trying to catch his eye. “You are important. Therefore this is important. Okay?”

He makes a soft sound; it could be a laugh, but it’s too rueful for that. When Bellamy looks up, there’s such a stark sadness on his face that Clarke almost forgets about his arm. “Why do you always do that?” He asks.

“Do what?”

“Why do you always say everything except what you actually mean?”

Taken aback, she just stares. “I…”

Bellamy shakes his head and looks off into the trees. “Nevermind.”

“No, Bellamy, I—”

“Nevermind,” he says again, still holding his arm out.

In silence, she treats the infected wound and binds it carefully, forcing herself to pay attention to the work in front of her and not his words ringing in her mind. Was she really guilty of shielding herself that much when it came to him?

I can’t lose you too.

Thank you for keeping me alive.

How special you really are.

Keep reading

DARK RP STARTERS
  • "You'll be fine."
  • "I'm afraid it's very fatal."
  • "These test results..don't make any sense."
  • "How far can your arm go before it breaks?"
  • "I'll carve your eyes out with a spoon."
  • "What does he have that I don't"
  • "Why did he choose her instead of me?"
  • "..Why?"
  • "Make as many stab wounds as you want."
  • "I am destined as your tool."
  • "The girl must die."
  • "The boy must die."
  • "I want to taste your blood on my lips."
  • "Where do we go from here?"
  • "These voices..cease to let me be."
  • "I..can't stop crying."
  • "Use me as you will."
  • "None of it matters now."
  • "Shadows fallow my every step."
  • "You've gone..completely mad."
  • "I'm barking mad."
  • "Winter is coming."
  • "I could kill you right now."
  • "You..You're dead!"
  • "May the lord have mercy on your soul."
  • "The mental ward let me out early this year."
  • "Oh how i miss the voices."
  • "Everyone is equal when they're dead."
  • "Cancel Christmas."
  • "Bring me more war."
  • "I love war."
  • "I piss on your traditions."
  • "I hate your heart."
  • "I hate your soul."
  • "I promise, you won't feel a thing."
  • "Bring her to me."
  • "Bring him to me."
  • "A few holes in the head give the madness more space."
  • "I hate everything about you."
  • "I will abandon you."
  • "What is that girl up to?"
  • "I am stretched on your grave."
  • "Kill me now.."
  • "If I fall from the grace of God where no murdered ghost can haunt me.."
  • "You are one in from the plank, don't make me push you."
  • "I don't care."
  • "Leave me behind."
  • "Everything you've told me was a lie!"
  • "Everything I've told yo was a lie!"
  • "How could you ever think to leave them behind?"
  • "Someone should nail your feet to the floor."
  • "My last breath will be your curse."
  • "He will KILL you."
  • "She will KILL you."
  • "I did noting."
  • "It was an accident!"
  • "You've killed your own brother!"
  • "I want nothing to do with him!"
  • "How can I possibly trust you?"
  • "Pathetic."

anonymous asked:

1/4 Hi, i read your post about Even being hypomanic and i need your opinion about this beucase you actually know about this disorder from your own experience. When I see Evak I can't stop thinking about it. I know that hypomania doesn't make you fall in love with someone but at the same time, if Even had been hypomanic (since like episode 4 imo) I can't stop this feeling that everythig he did (their first kiss or first sex) was driven by his hypomania and not by his feelings for Isak.

Hello anon,

I’m glad you’re asking me about this. I have bipolar (type II) and, although I’m not an authority figure on the topic (everyone’s experience with bipolar is different), I’ll try my best to explain my thoughts and interpretations of Even and his feelings for Isak in and outside of his hypo/manic episode.
I know there are other SKAM fans who have bipolar too and I hope they’ll feel free to chime in if they have anything to add to my answer.

Keep reading

I Can’t Go On If You’re Not Here

Originally posted by sugutie

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Pairing: Jeongguk x Reader

Length: 2k

Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3

masterlist 

You have been in love with Jeongguk since freshmen year of college, but you never had the courage to confront him about your feelings. A new girl pushes you to admit to him finally what you both were waiting for. 

You didn’t choose to be friends with Jeongguk, we just became friends. We met when we were young. He was a new freshmen in college and very active. You were the quiet girl who just wanted her degree in business so you could finally escape from my parents who constantly breathed down your neck. You had friends but none of them compared to Jeongguk. You became friends when the teacher had decided to partner you two up for a project.

“Hey, I’m Jeongguk”.

Those words will forever haunt you to the fact that you can never have him. He will always be the boy that you loved so deeply but could never have. Jeongguk was the light of your life, simple enough. He brought you favorite popcorn when you was feeling down, when you was on your periods,he would become the most patient man on earth.

He never complained when you would talk for hours on hours about the cute guys in your accounting class. He would smile at you and pat you on the head and say,

“You’re too good for them anyways. You’re too smart for them, all they understand is how to crunch numbers. You are both naturally blessed with looks and intelligence”

You would always blush at his compliments. People would call him awkward and silent with no emotion. He would compliment you with the straightest face. People didn’t know how to respond to him because they thought he was making fun of them. It was just that Jeongguk meant every word he said. He wanted you to know that he was honest and truthful.

Jeongguk never realized what you had felt for him. It wasn’t his fault. You never confessed to him because you didn’t think it was worth it. You had some boyfriends here and there, but none of them were serious because you were forever waiting on him. He didn’t know, he just thought you didn’t really love anyone of them. It wasn’t until your senior year of college where you finally gathered up the courage to admit to him what you have been feeling for the past four years.

“Hey, where were you at the party?” Jeongguk slid into the seat besides you in the library, He was decked out in his signature black stussy sweatshirt with some skinny jeans that seemed to make him ten times more attractive. He started to stroke your hair. Jeongguk had a thing with hair. Yours was mid length and dyed a soft light brown, you kept it soft for him. Because he liked it.

“I didn’t go. Jongsuk didn’t want to go so I stayed back with him to help him study” You turned towards him, away from your economics textbooks and placed your head in your hands.

“Ah, always helping the new student. You are just too nice Y/N,” Jeongguk quirked his head and smiled at you. He was just too cute. It was the time in between your classes. You were about to graduate, just one more semester to go and you were finally done with the education system.  

“Nah, I’m not nice. I just felt pity for him because he didn’t know what we did in class”

Jeongguk started to pick at your pens and pencils, “You should have gone to the party. It was so much more exciting but some new incoming freshmen came and crashed it. But the best thing about it is I met someone.”

“You met a girl? Who? It’s been a while.”

You tried to mask the look of surprise on your face. Jeongguk hasn’t dated any girls in a while. He had dated a girl named Wendy a while back ago but he broke up with her because he didn’t think they had fit together. Jeongguk was a true romantic, he loved to hold hands and spend hours reading at a cafe with his girlfriend. That’s what you loved about him, he loved the simple things. He had said Wendy was an amazing girl but he just didn’t think they were good together. When he was dating Wendy, you had to deal with in love Jeongguk, he was gone.

When Jeongguk had a new girlfriend, he would disappear from your life. He would put all his attention and love into the new girl and it would be like you never existed.He wasn’t ignoring you on purpose, he just wanted to spend time with girlfriend. This really hurt you. You felt like you were a throwaway, only needed when he was free of a romantic partner. People knew you guys were best friends, they knew that you guys had perfect chemistry. They didn’t understand why Jeongguk didn’t make a move. Many guys have tried but you wanted to wait for him. You had boyfriends but they never made it to your heart. You dabbled in romance when Jeongguk had a new girlfriend. You felt lonely and wanted some attention, the attention that Jeongguk was not giving you.

Jeongguk had a little smile on his face and he shyly looked down, “She’s a sophomore. She loves to dance and she’s really talented at the violin. I met her at the party and we just hit it off. I think I really like her. I know we just met but I feel like we connect so well.” He had the starry look in his eyes, the kind he gets when he talks about Overwatch and Justin Bieber.

You stopped fiddling with your pen and looked at him, “Wow, I guess it’s time for you to move onto the next girl. What happened to your promise of waiting till you graduated?” You tried to mask the hurt in your voice. Jeongguk had a real chance of falling in love with someone that wasn’t you.

“I was, but man Jennie is a work of art. I never met anyone like her, she brings out sides of me that I never knew existed. We had talked about random things but it was the most interesting conversation I ever had. She’s so beautiful,”Jeongguk swiveled in his chair, his body opposite of what it should have been if he was sitting. He leaned back against the desk, and brushed his hand through his hair. His hair was a startling black color. He never dyed it because he thought that it would make him seem more like a girl.

You knew who Jennie was. She was a transfer student from Gwangju. You guys had some mutual friends, you never formally met her. It was an understatement to say that she was an amazing and one of a kind. Jennie made guy friends after guy friends, she never dated anyone since she had transferred this year. She was an up and coming dancer in our dance team. Hoseok, the dance captain and your closest friend after Jeongguk and Jisoo, had complimented her on her fluidity and techniques.  He had also said that she was pretty but not his type. Hoseok had a specific type, he liked the smart and caring ones. It wasn’t that Jennie wasn’t smart or caring, it was because he thought that Jennie was a little superficial. Apparently Jeongguk didn’t think the same.

“Oh. Good for you” You didn’t know what to say. Your heart was slowly tearing at itself. Why couldn’t Jeongguk look at you and think of you like he did with Jennie? What made you so unappealing to him. You guys have been friends for four years, and never did he once show a sign that he was attractive to you in the point of more than friends. You would flirt with him but he would just smile at you and go back to what he was doing. It wasn’t like you didn’t try. You didn’t know how to approach him with the topic that you wanted to be more than friends.

Jeongguk turned his head towards you, “It isn’t great? I’m taking her out on a date later. I need advice on what to wear. So get out of the library and let’s get back to the apartment and plan what to wear.” It was also quaint that you guys were roommates because you wanted to get out of the dorms and finally get a place of your own but you were too poor to afford it yourself.

You found yourself being dragged out of the library, his hands linked in between yours, with your things haphazardly shoved into your open tote bag and onto the streets. Jeongguk happily took the lead to the short walk to your apartment complex. He seemed to be bouncing on the soles of his feet. His hands still linked with yours. It was normal for you two to hold hands. He had started this habit because you always got lost in crowds when you guys hit Myeongdong for shopping. You felt like he does it now because he liked to torture you with a little sliver of a romantic relationship with him.

“Hurry up, the date starts in an hour”, Jeongguk basically shoved you up the stairs in barely contained excitement and into his room. You didn’t want to help him with his date. In fact you wanted to give him a reason to cancel the date, you. But he would never do that because he didn’t like you. You had to be his friend and just his friend.

He started to pilfer through his closest that was ironically filled with white t shirts.

“I guess I would go with casual but a little dressed up,” you pushed him aside because he was actually hopeless. Your chest hurt every time you touched the clothes hangers that held his clothes. You chose a white button down with a mandarin collar with some jeans. He would look great. This was going to be a long night of you eating ice cream and watching some movies to pass the empty time. Why does Jennie have to exist?

“You are the Sun to my Earth. Thank you so much. This is why I still need my mother and you, of course.” Jeongguk quickly grabbed his clothes and rushed into the conjoining bathroom.

You plop down on his bed. His room wasn’t especially big but it wasn’t small. You had an identical room, with connected bathrooms. You looked up onto the ceiling and saw stars. Jeongguk always love what stars represented. To him, stars represented hope and ambition. He saw them as the push to his success.

Jeongguk slammed the door open, all dressed in his outfit ready for his date, “Is this alright?” as he fixed his collar. He looked so handsome and so Jennie’s.

You motioned for him to come over to the bed and you sat up. He stood right in front of you, still fixing his clothes. You laughed at him, he had skipped a button,

“Aish you dummy, you missed a button, no one it looks weird,” You went in to fix it, your nimble fingers skipped over the soft material. It would be so nice to just push him onto the bed and snuggle. He stared down at you as you slowly fixed his error. You looked up at him, into his starry eyes. He sent you a smile and continued to stare.

The tension in the room began to heat up. Your eyes seem to drill holes in one others. Your fingers stopped it’s administrations. You opened your mouth to say something.  

breaking down house stereotypes

the hp writers net created quite a racket! discourse, as you may call it.

[ 5:43 PM ] paula: #ravenclaw confessions: I don’t always have paint on my hands

[ 5:43 PM ] amber: Reminder to ravenclaws who don’t have blue eyes: you’re still as valid as slytherins with blue eyes uwu

[ 5:43 PM ] eve: slytherin confessions: i have never murdered anyone

[ 5:44 PM ] amber: Not all slytherins poison :/

[ 5:44 PM ] eve: some people?? have blue eyes?? to cope??

[ 5:45 PM ] sophia: Ravenclaw confession: I hate studying

[ 5:45 PM ] paula: You 👏 don’t 👏 have 👏 to 👏 own 👏 a 👏 lion 👏 to 👏 be 👏 in 👏 gryffindor

[ 5:45 PM ] amber: ALL 👏 HOUSES👏CAN 👏 KILL 👏 PEOPLE

[ 5:46 PM ] eve: friendly reminder that not all gryffindors own lions uwu

[ 5:46 PM ] liyah: I’M NOT A SLYTHERIN BUT I MURDER SOMEONE EVERYDAYYY

[ 5:46 PM ] paula: Winged eyeliner is not just for slytherins 😩

[ 5:46 PM ] paula: Guys I’m a ravenclaw and I wear eyeliner ??? Break stereotypes 🙏

[ 5:47 PM ] paula: Sometimes I’m not aesthetic and it’s really hard #that ravenclaw life

[ 5:48 PM ] eve: #notallslytherins murder people

[ 5:49 PM ] amber:  WEARING BLACK ACRYLIC NAILS WHEN YOU AREN’T FROM DEMON HOUSE IS HOUSE SPIRIT APPROPRIATION

[ 5:50 PM ] eve: Daily reminder you can’t own books if you’re not from ravenclaw

[ 5:50 PM ] sophia: Ravenclaws aren’t always the best or smartest at everything #remember hermione brightest witch of our age

[ 5:50 PM ] amber: I have a lot of friends who follow me on here that do this so I won’t name any names but if 👏 you 👏 aren’t 👏 a 👏 ravenclaw 👏 you 👏 can't👏 own 👏 books

[ 5:52 PM ] amber: SOME PEOPLE WEAR A PLAID SHIRT?? BECAUSE WE’RE COLD???

[ 5:52 PM ] eve: youre not a true slytherin if you cant name all their albums, acrylic nails, black lipstick, literal murder and water

[ 5:52 PM ] ray: i only wear black clothes, did the sorting hat got it wrong? should i donate all my clothes to any friendly slytherin?

[ 5:52 PM ] amber: If you actually read the post you would know that slytherins aren’t friendly :/

[ 5:53 PM ] amber: Going on an adventure?? Omg these hufflepuffs are breaking!!! Down!! House stereotypes!!!

[ 5:53 PM ] amber: Friendly house is yellow house

[ 5:54 PM ] amber: What the hell is a hufflepuff

[ 5:54 PM ] amber: Anyway I love jigglypuff house :))

[ 5:54 PM ] eve: oh yes the four houses, gryffindor ravenclaw slytherin and reads smudged writing jigglypuff

[ 5:54 PM ] eve: slytherin confessions: i have never murdered anyone

[ 5:55 PM ] amber: Picking sunflowers to give to your friends #littlehufflepuffthings

[ 5:55 PM ] amber: Going on adventures #allgryffindorsrelate

[ 5:56 PM ] amber: LITERALLY MURDERING YOUR ENEMIES BY PUTTING POISON IN THEIR GLASS DURING A DINNER PARTY #justslytherinthings

[ 5:56 PM ] eve: drowning #justslytherinthings

[ 5:56 PM ] paula: Cram 😂 😂 😂? the only thing I’m cramming is my dreams! The grind😩👊👏👏never stops❌❌❌. Only ravenclaws will understand

[ 5:57 PM ] amber: You killed that test?? 😂😂Ravenclaws🙄🙄.The only thing I kill🔪🔪🔪 is my enemies💯💯💯💯 SLYTHERINS 🐍🐍UNITE🖤🖤🖤

[ 6:00 PM ] amber: #yellowhouse

[ 6:00 PM ] amber: #poisondrownings

[ 6:00 PM ] amber: #bookcathedral

[ 6:01 PM ] tayla: #plaidshirtsnredhair

[ 6:01 PM ] eve: #sunflowerhouse

[ 6:01 PM ] tayla: #iceandpretentious

[ 6:02 PM ] tayla: #blueeyesandallthebooks

[ 6:03 PM ] amber: dystopian au

[ 6:04 PM ] amber: “Sunflower house and demon house are never supposed to mingle… But I couldn’t help but fall in love with her and her black acrylic nails from afar. She wasn’t like book house girls, with pretentious quotes and ice cold blue eyes. She was special. If she was a poison, I wanted to drink it all.”

[ 6:04 PM ] amber: NEVER WAS THERE MORE A TALE OF WOE THAN OF THAT OF SUNFLOWER HOUSE AND BLOOD HOUSE

[ 6:05 PM ] sophia: Non-ravenclaws can’t understand this post: the feeling of going into a bookstore

[ 6:09 PM ] paula: Only slytherins will understand

[ 6:09 PM ] paula: Tfw you apply makeup. Only slytherins will get this

[ 6:10 PM ] amber: Me, looking at the blue sky; yes okay we get it you’re a ravenclaw just take your books and go

[ 6:10 PM ] amber: Everyone else wears natural makeup

[ 6:10 PM ] amber: slytherins teaching the dumb other houses how to apply eyeshadow

[ 6:13 PM ] amber: [banging books down on the table] let ravenclaws wear heavy makeup!!!

[ 6:15 PM ] amber: Gryffindor muggleborns showing their friends new places to go on adventures in the muggle world. Ravenclaw muggleborns showing their friends their favourite muggle books. Hufflepuff muggleborns picking flowers with their pureblood friends. Slytherin muggleborns teaching their slytherin friends about new types of poisons

[ 6:15 PM ] amber: Just kidding. Everyone knows there isn’t any muggleborns in death eater house

[ 6:19 PM ] amber: Murdered anyone and used their blood for a face mask lately?

[ 6:20 PM ] eve: ugh no thats servants work, i had one of my house elfs do it for me

[ 6:20 PM ] amber: Just saw a girl with red hair and a black outfit like smh make up your mind  are you in gryffindor or slytherin?

[ 6:25 PM ] yuki: just pick a random house for the next seven years; it’s not like they’re sorting you based on your personality and where you fit best.

jxmes-b-bxrnes-deactivated20170  asked:

May I request a prompt? It's a bit angsty, it's where The Winter Soldier, Captain America and the reader are in a life-threatening situation and only two of them could make it out alive, the reader devises a plan, which requires her to stay behind and get killed. The they both get out safely thinking the reader is safe too until they look back and realize that it's too late...Thank you very much for taking your time, if you can't do it, I absolutely understand:)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader | Steve x Reader
Fandom: MCU
Warnings: death and no happy ending (I hate myself for this lol)

A/N: omg girl, you really know how to make someone cry, lol. anyways, this prompt is amazing, gave me a LOT of feels and I made it super angsty (I really hope that’s what you wanted haha.) 

                                                        *****

“You know,” Punch. “When you told me you’d take me out,” Punch. “I was either hoping for dinner,” Kick. “Or a threesome.”

You turned around to the two men behind you who had a pile of men lying around them and grinned.

“Oh come on, (Y/N). You love this,” Cap answered, throwing his shield to hit the last man entering the room, before collecting it again.

“Maybe. But a threesome? That would’ve been a lot more appreciated today.”

Both men looked at each other, laughed and then followed you to the transmission room of the Hydra base.

You instantly saw it.

And that’s when your previous happy mood disappeared in a matter of seconds.

Keep reading

I Can't Stand It (Miniminter)

I Can’t Stand It 
 Miniminter x reader 
Angst 
Requested! Yes! This was requested by one of my best friends @princessac. Thanks for requesting beauty, I’m sorry it took so long! 

 The gaze she held could probably scare anyone that it attached to. Anyone could feel the burning orbs literally creating holes of fire in their bodies, but it seemed as though the tall blonde her gaze was trained on, didn’t even notice.

 Y/N stood off to the side, a glass of alcohol in her hand. There was a feeling bubbling up inside her, but Y/N didn’t know what it was. It wasn’t exactly anger, but it definitely wasn’t sadness. The feeling was almost a ,not so happy, medium. 

 "You’re not slick you know that?“ A voice sounded from besides Y/N, startling her so much that she almost spilled her drink. There stood beside her was a small Indian man who was the same height as her. Y/N grumbled to herself, gulping down the drink in her hand.

 "Shut up” Y/N retorted, clearly irritated for being called out on her, realistically, creepy antics. Vik giggled a bit, and joined her in her drinking, trying to keep his mouth shut. But he could see the look in her eyes. She was desperately in-love with Simon, that it pissed Vik off. Because Simon loved her equally as much, but the two were completely and utterly oblivious. 

 However, the situation the two were in was more complicated than anyone had originally thought. Simon and Y/N had known each other for years, growing up together with just a house between them. They were inseparable, two peas in a pod. Where ever one went, the other was close behind if not already beside. 

 But that changed. 

Surprise surprise right? 

They gained feelings for each other and well shit happened. They dated on and off for about a year, until Y/N called it off when she caught Simon cheating on her. 

 That was five years ago. 

 And she missed him more than anything. But none of the guys knew that, they just assumed that Y/N met Simon when she met everyone else. Of course both of them were caught off guard, they hadn’t seen each other for years, but they played it off well. 

 "Y/N, he’s staring" Vik murmured, swirling the drink in his hands. Y/N snapped out of her daze, her gaze focusing in on the glaring blonde from the dance floor. But the smirk that grew on his face was sickening to Y/N, the future sight she was about to face would make her feel worse than she already did. 

 Simon smirked, evilly almost, and grabbed the girl he was dancing with by the hips and pressing his lips to hers. Y/N felt her whole world crash around her, a loud clanging was muffled by the ringing in her ears, her hand now empty.

 "Y/N" Vik screeched, bending down to pick up the broken glass. Y/N followed suit, tears welling up in her eyes. 

 "I’m so sorry" The woman whimpered, feeling overwhelmed but numb at the same time. A new hand was shoved into her view. 

 "It’s fine little lady, don’t worry about it" the voice was soft, comforting, but nothing could drag Y/N out of the pit she was in. She shakily responded with a quiet ok, lifting herself up off of the ground. When she glanced back at the dance floor, the blonde was gone, but the girl he was with wasn’t. She was still dancing on the floor, but now with her friends.

 Y/N glanced around for awhile, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. But she flinched around when a large hand landed on her shoulder.

 "Hey hey. It’s just me" Simon chuckled from behind her, his tone mocking. Y/N huffed, not turning to meet his knowing gaze and shrugging his hand off of her shoulder. Simons smirk fell when the woman scooted away from him, his arm reaching out to grab her wrist. 

 "Can we talk?“ The seriousness in his question, and his expression caught Y/N completely off guard. But she stood her ground. She knew what talking meant. 

 "No” Her original, fiery gaze took place on her face, making Simon cross his arms over his chest. That gaze never worked on him. 

 "Y/N you know that little look of yours never worked on me" Simon patronized her, making her more angry by the minute. 

 "Fuck off Minter" Y/N spat, storming away from him. She bursts through the doors of the club, ignoring the calls from the others. The cold air practically slapped her in the face, but a hand pulled her back and up against the wall.

 "What the hell is your problem?!“ Y/N screeched at the blonde that was currently pinning her against the brick. The cold blue eyes that were boring into hers would make anyone shudder, but that was the thing with these two. They were immune to one another, but equally as addicted.

 "I could ask you the same thing. Every chance you get, you burn that stupid little gaze of yours into my fucking body.” The blonde huffed, calmer than she was by two whole levels. Y/N glanced away from him, uncomfortable with how close Simon was. But Simon placed a palm to her cheek, turning her eyes towards his.

 "Don’t you look away from me and try to act innocent" Simon hissed, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. His fingers twitched against the skin of her cheek, his thumb caressing it lightly. Y/N melted into him, not being able to fully resist the drug she had been addicted to. But Y/N was still angry and upset.

 "Stop it" She breathed, smacking his hand away, a tear falling from her eye. Simon stepped back a step, even if it physically pained him.

 "I can’t do it anymore Simon. I can’t sit around and see you with someone else every time we go out.“ Y/N seethed, screaming through her tears. She ranted and raved, punching against his chest. Yeah, it hurt him, but Simon took it. She needed to let everything go. 

 Soon, the rage was gone, and the tears were the only thing flowing freely. Y/Ns back hit the wall, sliding down it. She tucked her head into her knees, whimpering and sobbing. Simons heart nearly broke at the sight, but she needed to get out of here now. 

So, he did the only thing he could, call an uber and take her home. He did everything a good boyfriend would do, wash her nearly emotionless body, put her in comfortable clothes, feed and hydrate her, and went to put her to bed. 

He respected her in every way, never stared for too long while she wasn’t dressed, and kept his hands to himself. But when she asked him to stay after tucking her in, he was more than eager to. 

 "I’m sorry for being jealous” Y/N murmured into the silence, her cheek moving against his chest, his thumb caressing her bicep. 

 "Go to sleep love, We’ll talk about it in the morning"

fandxmsunite replied to your post: “inej ballet au

omg yes do the au!!

queenofdemocracy replied to your post: “inej ballet au” 

^^i second this

Your wish is my command!

BALLET AU

  • Inej is a well-known ballet dancer in the New York City Ballet, and she’s slotted to take the leading role in Swan Lake
  • until newcomer Dunyasha swoops down from the Bolshoi and snatches her position from her with perfect poise and grace  
  • Kaz is the new choreographer and initially favors Dunyasha for her brilliant technique
  • but it becomes obvious that she lacks the emotion behind the leading role when tryouts begin 
  • Kaz sees Inej for the first time, and praises her display of emotion and passion however 
  • “You’re a storm. If this were art for art’s sake, there’d be no doubt you’d lead with that dangerous power. But this isn’t contemporary.”
  • announcements are made and instead of making one dancer Odette and Odile (as per usual) Kaz has made Odette Inej and Odile Dunyasha 
  • when Inej sees him again, he remarks that he did this to see if they could challenge themselves to fill in the roles they struggle with
  • of course Dunyasha masters the thirty two fouettés* for Odile’s Pas de Deux* in a week 
  • Inej practices the Swan Queen role with discomfort, trying to look innocent and fragile but it grows too much for her
  • one night, after every dancer has gone, Kaz sees Inej practice the Pas de Deux alone and sees her getting frustrated with every single move 
  • He blurts out suddenly, “I can help you.” 
  • Inej drops her arms silently and just watches Kaz approach, face morphing into one of wonder as he adapts the role of Prince Siegfried 
  • slowly the two of them begin to dance the Pas de Deux for Odette and Siegfried
  • they begin to do this every day 
  • and if Kaz looks a little more wonderstruck when Inej comes ‘flying’ en pointe
  • or if Inej seems to dance a little closer to Kaz’s hands 
  • neither of them say a thing
  • Dunyasha notices the two of them getting closer together and accuses Inej of flirting with Kaz to steal her role
  • Inej: “If I really was, you think I’d request to work with you?” 
  • Inej nevertheless gets wary, and tells Kaz to distance himself from her as she improves 
  • the ballet premieres to rave reviews and already Kaz’s getting requests from all over the world to make ballets 
  • but he politely declines all of them, saying that this was his first and only ballet production
  • on the last night, Dunyasha calls that she injured her legs (something about falling a roof) 
  • Kaz and the corps* are freaking out because it’s ten minutes til curtain until 
  • “I’ll do it. Where’s Dunyasha’s Odile costume?”
  • Kaz turns around so fast he cricks his neck, and sees Inej in her white tutu with a ready expression on her face
  • “But-”
  • Inej smiles a little at Kaz’s doubt. “I had to practice something other than Odette when you were gone.” 
  • the audience leans forward with bated breath as the curtain rises and then whispers break out among them as the ballerina for Siegfried steps out 
  • because this can’t be it, why would Kaz Brekker be performing at his own production? And as one of the leading roles? 
  • by now, the crowd knows Inej plenty and when she steps out of the wings as Odette, the audience grows berserk
  • but when she sees Kaz dressed as Siegfried she stops in her tracks 
  • a tiny smirk starts to form on his lips because he’s one upped her on surprises 
  • together, the two of them dance as the enchanted girl and the prince who falls in love with her 
  • but when the newspapers publish their glowing review of the ballet, they wax lyrical about Odile and Siegfried’s Pas de Deux instead 
  • and how Inej absolutely stunned everyone in her Black Swan Variation and brought the whole audience leaping to their feet when she absolutely floored them with her hypnotic thirty two fouettés (4:19)

*fouettés - a pirouette done by whipping the leg to the side in a circular motion. In Swan Lake, Odile needs to do thirty two of these - a signature and iconic move that’s never been omitted from any SL production. 

*Pas de Deux - literally, step of two where two ballet dancers perform together 

*corps de ballet - ballet company dancers that dance as a collective group (or the lowest ranking members of the ballet)

anonymous asked:

Autistic people are often framed as having only a singular, heavily involved "special interest", or perhaps 2 or 3, to the absolute exclusion of anything else. While I know this is likely true for some, I can't imagine that every autistic person ever doesn't have multiple hobbies or interests pursued with varying degrees of engagement. The sense I get from the NT-written things I've encountered make autistic folk seem very one-dimensional. I'd like some help clearing this up, please!

This is one of those topics that hasn’t really been researched, as far as I can tell, so I’ll be sticking to my usual method of speaking for myself and inviting autistic followers to add their thoughts. I can in no way claim to speak for everyone, but am happy to share my perspective.

First off, let me explain how a special interest works for me with a simple metaphor: falling in love. When I first come across a new special interest, its eyes sparkle at me from across the room. I get a tiny taste of it, a fragment of information or a glimpse of a picture, and a spark flies, and a fuse lights, and a bomb of euphoria goes off in my head. This thing, this thing right here, is quite clearly the most amazing, important thing I’ve ever come across. This thing is frigging incredible, the best thing that’s ever happened, and the world needs to know.

I become obsessed. I gobble up information wherever I can find it. I learn everything there is to know as quickly as I possibly can. I become an expert on this thing in a remarkably short amount of time. This is LOVE, man. Well, more accurately, this is infatuation. Puppy love. That drug-like rush of chemicals in your brain when you feel you’ve found THE ONE. I talk about it constantly, much to the annoyance of those around me who just don’t quite understand why this thing, this one thing, is so amazingly great that I need to rant about it to the exclusion of everything else in the world. (Especially since they’ve heard it all before.) Just talking about it gives me a rush of euphoria. Sometimes I can see that those around me aren’t interested, but I just can’t stop. The words pour out of me, the excitement radiates off of me, I can’t be ignored, can’t be interrupted. This is like nothing that has ever happened before! Surely, if I can explain it well enough, everyone else will see, too, right? Right?

If you’ve never been in this kind of love, you might not have learned this lesson yet, but here it comes, folks: that kind of love doesn’t last. That euphoric high that results when your brain decides to take a bath in happy chemicals - it’s just physically impossible to sustain it. Eventually, the high, the firey passion, wears off. For me, this usually takes about a year. I’ve read and watched and learned everything I can about this thing. It’s been the center point of my life for a long time, the thing that gets me out of bed in the morning. And one day, suddenly, it just… doesn’t hold the same appeal. It’s not that I don’t love it anymore! I will always love it. But the love changes. It becomes the old, familiar love that comes with time. You don’t get that high from being together anymore, but that doesn’t mean you don’t enjoy each other’s company. You no longer try to persuade the world that this one is the one, is the best thing ever. You no longer need to. This love just settles into the back of your mind, always there, always a comfort, always ready to give you a hug when you need it.

The expertise I’ve gained from all my intensive research, that stays. I will always know just about all there is to know about that thing (at least, all there was to know when I was researching it). I’ll always be able to call that knowledge to mind later on, when it’s useful. And I’ve developed quite the reputation for being a “know-it-all”. I always seem to have some random, obscure fact right on the tip of my tongue, and it’s usually debunking some common misconception that my friends would just as soon keep on having rather than feeling like they’re constantly under attack by that one girl who just HAS to know EVERYTHING.

But it doesn’t feel that way for me. A key difference I’ve noted in communication between autistic and allistic people, and the source of a large percentage of our miscommunications in life, is this: allistic people communicate to bond emotionally and to establish and display power and dominance or submission. Autistic people communicate to share information. When I correct someone, it’s because I know that if I was wrong, I would want to be given the correct information, so I could stop being wrong. But when an allistic person is corrected like that, they take it as an attack on their status, a display of power, and a denial of their feelings. The “golden rule” doesn’t always work. It’s a constant problem.

In any case, I have always been described as someone obsessive. Someone who finds one thing (although it’s often two, three, even four things at a time) and just obsessively learns everything about it and won’t shut up about it for months and months on end. And that really does seem to be true, in a sense. I have very extreme levels of interest. Either something is amazing and I need to know everything about it, or it just doesn’t catch my interest at all. There isn’t much in between.

On the other hand, due to all the many special interests I’ve had over my more than three decades of life, I have built up quite a broad range of interests. I never lost any of them. All of those things still interest me now, and when someone brings one of them up in conversation, I still get a spark of the old obsessiveness deep inside. As a result, I now seem to have a wide range of interests, some of which I’m overtly obsessive about, and others which I keep on file, ready to pull out whenever they’re needed. When I was young, that probably wasn’t the case. It’s likely that I may have been viewed as somewhat one-dimensional as a child, obsessed with just a few things and completely uncaring about everything else. (And when my parents, trying to make me act “normal”, tried separating me from my special interests, the pain was as crushing as being forced to leave your True Love because the rest of the world doesn’t want you to be together - and only made my obsession stronger.)

What I want you to understand is that I don’t see that as a negative thing in any way. An allistic person might see that narrow range of interests and think “oh the poor thing, it’s like she lives in a tiny world and is missing so much of life!” But from my perspective, it’s allistic people who are missing out. Allistic people never seem particularly interested in anything, not by my standards. From where I’m standing, it looks like allistics just drift through life, dabbling in a little of everything but never mastering anything, never finding any real interest, never getting any real, intense joy out of any of their hobbies. An allistic person might say to me, “Yeah, I do a little crocheting, but I’m not really that into it.” And in my mind, I’ll think… then why do it at all? How horribly unsatisfying must it be to go through your entire life, never falling in love with anything you do? Never feeling that euphoria that I get to experience over and over again every time I find a new interest?

Autistic and allistic brains are specialized differently. Allistic brains are best at navigating social rules and structures and internalizing broad strokes and large categories. They look at a table for the first time and think: “That’s a table.” And that’s pretty much as far as they go. They might spend a few seconds to note the material or color or overall condition of the table, but that’s it. 

Autistic brains are specialized in details. It means we have more information to process, all those details without any mechanism for discarding the ones that aren’t important, but it also means we get to see everything about something. I see that new table and I can get lost in tracing the patterns of the grain for hours on end. Sure, it takes me longer, but I get a lot more out of it, and I get a joy from that which allistic people just don’t seem to get.

It’s similar with our interests. Allistics have broad interests, dipping their toe into the shallow ends of a thousand different pools but never really diving in. Autistics have narrow but intense interests. We absorb every detail, and in doing so experience an intense and wonderful euphoria. Honestly, sometimes I feel sorry for all the allistic people in the world who never get to experience that. The poor things… ;)

-Mod Aira

For me, I can have both special interests and normal-level interests. Just because I have stuff that I really really love and am passionate about doesn’t mean I can’t also have other interests, that I’m not quite as passionate about but that I like to dabble in from times to times or as a part of my routine. I do not feel however the urge or will to research them in more depth. There is joy that I can derive from it, but there is not the same “drive” to pursue it. I’d say that’s the main difference between a regular interest and what we call a special interest: a drive to learn about it, talk about it, read about it, build projects about it, engage with it, that is much stronger. So one person can have one or a few special interests, but I’d say it’s not always to the exclusion of everything else.

I think the intensity of special interests, their “obsessiveness” and whether or not the person likes to engage with other subjects that their special interests depends a lot from one person to the next. My special interests sound less intense than what Aira is describing, and I may have more varied non-special interests. So really I’d say this is something that depends a lot from one person to the next.

I also want to add that just because someone has a narrow range of interests doesn’t mean they’re one-dimensional: I’ve seen a special interest described as a lense through which you understand the world. The world is large, and even if you have only one such “lense”, that’s a lot of things to discover with that unique point of view.

-Mod Cat

the rain | jason blossom (riverdale)

Originally posted by riverdalesource

prompt: 8- “what your wearing is very distracting”, 12- “i didn’t realise i needed your permission, 15-“here take my jacket you look freezing & 23- “kiss me”

a/n: another piece from my trial co-owner!! let me know what yous think!!

perfect nails, perfect hair.

after many hours spent in front of the mirror, I was finally ready to leave my room and go to Cheryl Blossom’s party.

“You look fabulous!“ My best friend, Betty Cooper said in amazement.

“I don't look like myself at all, Betty. I shouldn't have put this much lipstick, maybe i should just stay…”

“No friggin way, Y/F/N! You can't spend a friday night inside of your house. Besides, you have to find yourself a date for prom!“

I, myself, am a particularly introvert person. And to be honest, I’ve never been to a party before, let alone at Cheryl Blossom’s

But my friend was right, I totally needed a date for the prom, so I said yes to the party. Betty hugged me tightly and grabbed her purse. We were ready to go.

We entered the massive Thornhill mansion and searched for our mutual friend, one and only, Veronica Lodge. I was already extremely anxious and jittery.

“Oh my god, you guys! Finally!“ said the raven haired girl joyfully.

“Y/n! You look… different?!”

I smiled ungainly.

“Don’t get me wrong, different but amazing…" 

 Suddenly, there was an awkward silence.

“Do you guys… want something to drink?”

I nodded in agreement. I totally needed some alcohol to warm me up. We slowly entered a huge living room, filled with familiar faces. Kids from my school were there.

Almost all of them, dancing and drinking not surprisingly expensive beer, without even noticing me.

“Hey, you wanna dance?” shouted Betty. The music was very loud.

“I… No, Betty. I’m not… you can go without me! I’ll catch up later.”

She calmly smiled to me. Even though I was surrounded with people, I felt so lonely.

Many weird thoughs were running through my mind. I wanted to be somebody, I wanted to be known by them, but I was just a regular geeky high school freak. I knew it, leaving my house was a horrible idea.

At that exact moment, a familiar red haired boy approached to me.

“Hi there, beautiful”

“So… To be honest, I’ve never seen you at Cheryl’s parties before.”

“Parties are not really my thing” I tried not to look at his face.

“Then what’s your thing?”

I actually started enjoying this conversation.

“Um… Books, music… I don’t know”

He let out a tiny laugh. His laugh, it was like a melody to my soul. We sat on a beach, next to a small beach house. The familiar sound of waves was astonishing.

“Never met a girl like you before, Y/N. Truly rare”

We both laughed. His piercing blue eyes were shining like diamonds in the night. His face, his personality, he was art. We spent the rest of the night talking, opening up to each other. I could feel it, it was love. A weird, spontaneous love. Assuden, it started to rain. 

“Jason, we have to go!”

“No, Y/N! We are too far from Thornhill! We have to hide in the beach house"  We quickly rain into the beach house while laughing.”

“The rain is still pouring! We have to stay here.” I said.

“Here, take my jacket, you look freezing”

I put on his comfortable red velvet jacket.

“What’s so special about rain?” he sat next to me.

“I like rain. Rain makes me feel less alone. All rain is, is a cloud- falling apart, and pouring its shattered pieces down on top of you. It makes me feel better to know other things in nature can shatter.”

I could feel his eyes staring at me.

“Um… Jason, I have to ask you something”

“Oh so do I… You go first.”

“Why… Why did you choose me over all those girls?”

And we were back to the awkward conversations.

“Well that’s simple. There’s no reason I shouldn’t pick you, Y/N. You are special" 

I had to words to say. Was he actually in love with me?

“My turn now!”

He took my hand. 

“Y/N, would you like to go to prom with me?"  I stood there, frozen, speachless.

"J-Jason?”

“Yes?”

“Kiss me!”

His rosy lips quickly slammed mine. The kiss was strong, breathtaking.  The rain finally stopped pouring

Jason was not just a typo highschool rich kid, he was more than that. He was more than good enough. And I loved him, I truly did. But missing someone gets easier everyday because even though you are one day further from the last time you saw them, you are one day closer to the next time you will. …

morleysfreckles  asked:

okay okay but a fic where bellarke decide to get a puppy but can't decide on a breed and when they end up at the pound, are torn between like two dogs pretty pls!!

Thanks to the Internet for the puns and thanks to @selflessbellamy for being her awesome self and helping without realizing it!

From Raven:

ur gettin a dog???

with bellamy????

u realize hes gonna make tons of stupid puns??? how r u gonna survive this??

Clarke rolls her eyes as she reads Raven’s texts.

To Raven:

thanks for being overdramatic!!!

yes we’re getting a dog and it’s awesome and we’re gonna be the most precious family in town!

From Raven:

u used to be fun

Clarke rolls her eyes again and doesn’t bother answering. She turns to Bellamy, sitting next to her on the couch, his laptop on his knees. He has been searching “everything you need to know when getting a dog”.

“Raven thinks you’re gonna be insufferable because you’ll make tons of bad puns.”

“She’s right… It’s gonna be ruff” he answers grinning.

“Ugh” she groans while nuzzling her head in the crook of his neck.

He laughs softly.

“You sure about this though?” he can’t help to ask, a little anxious.

She brings her head up again and looks at him in the eye.

“Of course Bell. It’s gonna be great” she smiles.

“Pawesome!” he answers and she punches him in the arm. “Stoop! Okay so where do we start?”

“I think we should go to the pound” Clarke says “that way we’ll be helping a poor dog.”

Bellamy stares at her for a moment then.

“What?” She asks, almost defensive.

“I think I’ve never been more in love with you” he manages to say before surging to kiss her.

She makes a short noise of surprise and she’s laughing into the kiss.

“You’re an idiot you know that?” she breathes when he starts kissing her jaw and neck.

“You told me that before” he smirks. “I still happened to made you fall in love with me.”

“Yeah yeah you’re puuuurfect.”

Bellamy stops as soon as the word comes out of her mouth.

“You’re the most perfect woman on Earth.” And he starts kissing her neck again.

She has to force herself to push him.

“Bellamy… If we want to do this, we gotta do it now. Before I change my mind.”

He gets up immediately and takes her hand, already running and forcing Clarke to follow awkwardly after him.

“Let’s not lose any more minute. Try to keep it in your pants woman.”

“You were the one kiss-attacking me!”

“To the car!”

Clarke just laughs at his ridiculousness.

In the car, while Bellamy is driving, she checks her messages again.

From Raven:

clarke???

why r u not answering

did bellamy kill you with his puns

that’s it isnt it

clarke???

To Raven:

u were right!!! im going mutts!!!

From Raven:

friendship over

When Clarke tells Bellamy the exchange he has to stop to kiss her again.

*

At the pound, the girl welcoming them is really nice and takes the time to give them some information on the dogs they have. She tells them that’ll be better for them to take a puppy, easier to raise etc etc, and when Clarke meets the eyes of one she can’t disagree. The girl explains that most of the dogs they have here had a pretty rough – Clarke and Bellamy exchange a look and try not to laugh out loud – time, some of the dogs were beaten, some were abandonned. It breaks both Bellamy and Clarke’s hearts to hear that and they know they made the right choice by coming there. Their instincts to protect everyone will be a good use.

The only problem is that Bellamy and Clarke can’t seem to agree on what kind of dog they want. Obviously they want a small dog because they don’t have a garden yet and the poor dog would be just unhappy in their appartment.

Clarke has found a little jack russell that she finds a-do-ra-ble! It’s a boy and he starts licking Clarke’s hand as soon as Clarke kneels down to pet her.

But Bellamy has only eyes for the small beagle. This one is a girl and her ears are falling a little bit, she has been rescued from a dog fight – her first and only one thankfully – but she still has a small scar on her tail.

The girl from the welcoming desk lets them argue over which puppy is the cutest and will be the best companion for their future life and kids.

“Bellamy Blake I’m divorcing you if we don’t take this adorable boy into our house right now!”

“We’re not even married Clarke! Mine is cuter and must be protected at all cost. She’s been in a fight!!”

“Your intention is noble but your opinion is wrong.” She takes her puppy in her arms then and levels the puppy’s eyes to Bellamy’s to try to move him.

Bellamy reciprocates by doing the same with his puppy and the picture of them two holding their puppies to face the other would make their friends roll their eyes and laugh their ass off.

Clarke and Bellamy though don’t realize how ridiculous they are.

After an hour or two – yes hour – the girl comes back to see them arms crossed each on one side of the room staring at each other.

“Err… Have you guys decide? We’re closing soon, so…”

They both share a look, uncross their arms and come closer to the girl. Bellamy takes Clarke’s hand in his own when they say in the same time:

“We’ll take both of them.”

*

They name the puppies Picasso and Cleo because they are nerds and they’re embracing it.

In the ride’s home, after getting everything they needed for the dogs (plural!!!), Bellamy and Clarke agree on some rules to keep the eventual mess to a minimum.

No dogs on the bed (both Picasso and Cleo end up in their bed this very night).

They have to take turns on the potty training (Bellamy finally does it because Clarke can’t stay mad at the puppies long enough for them to understand that it is not okay to piss on their cushions).

They also have to take turns on which one of them is supposed to feed the dogs (and after Bellamy forgets for the third time Clarke just decide to do it every morning before going to work).

But mainly their goal is to annoy their friends as quickly as possible. Bellamy bets they wouldn’t bear with their puns more than two weeks. Clarke has even less faith in their friends’ patience and bets one of them will throw shoes at them the next time they hang out.

It’s the sentence “Whatevfur we’re so happy with the puppies, it’s very diffurrent from the cat I had in high school, furtunately Bellamy is pawesome with them! We’re gonna keep them furever!” that do it.

Both Miller and Raven throw their shoes at the laughing mess Bellamy and Clarke form in this moment.

check out my alpha madness celebration!

Being Renessmee's Twin Includes
  • Rosalie: I'm naming her Bella. I will not allow you to butcher and mesh two more names. Her name is Carlie. Deal with it.
  • Carlie: Why can't I fight with you and momma papa? I want to show the Volturi that I'm not a scared little girl. Anyone threatens to kill my family, I refuse to run away
  • Bella: Carlie, how many times have I told you? No throwing knifes in the house. You could hurt Renessmee or yourself. Be more careful.
  • Emmett: C'mon kiddo. I'll teach you how to fight.
  • Jasper: *scoffs* It'd be best if I teach her. You get frustrated too easily Emmett.
  • Carlise: Carlie, your growth is more rapid than Renessmee's. Your genes must be slightly different from hers. It could be an attribution to a power we haven't discovered yet.
  • Esme: It's so sweet of you to help me make dinner for you and Renessmee. I feel like you and I hardly get any time together. Renessmee's always off with either her parents or Jacob and you keep to yourself most of the time. Just know that I'm here if you ever want to talk to someone sweetie. You are my grandbaby afterall.
  • Edward: Your mother and I don't love Renessmee more than you Carlie. We love you both equally. She just relies on us more than you. You've always been more independent than your sister.
  • Carlie: I'm more independent because you and mom are always with her and Aunt Rose takes care of me. But whatever. I don't care anymore. She'll be stuck here in Forks and you all will have to leave eventually and I will travel the world once I reach an acceptable age growth.
  • Bella: Where have you been Carlie?! You've been gone for three whole days! What on earth are you wearing?!
  • Carlie: *sighs* Relax mom. I went to Comic Con in San Diego and cosplayed as Harley Quinn. I went to have some fun. Geez, it's like your trying to keep me trapped with you forever since Renessmee started solely hanging out with Jacob. I bet you really hate that imprint now cause you finally have to pay attention to your other daughter.
  • Alice: Carlie, come shopping with me. We never spend any girl time together since you started buying your own clothes.
  • Carlie: But there's a Gotham marathon on today. How about I go shopping with you tomorrow then?
  • Jasper: *watching the Romanian aired teach you how to fight and use weapons from a window in the house because Bella and Edward forbid him from teaching her himself* I don't see what the problem was with them Alice. I have no urge to drink wither of the girls blood and I adore Carlie. I should be teaching her how to fight, not those barbaric two.
  • Alice: I know Jas. But she finally made some friends that weren't a part of our family. Renessmee has Jacob and that's all she needs. Carlie is free to expand herself unbound to anyone. We don't want to smother the girl by crowding her all the time.
  • Rose: I can't believe Bella never told you about periods. Oh wait, I can. Look Carlie, you have nothing to fear. It's completely natural.
  • Carlie: I HATE IT! I FEEL HORRIBLE ALL THE TIME AND I KEEP CRAVING CHEESECAKE AND CHEETOS!
  • Jacob: Why do you hate me Carlie? I never did anything to you.
  • Carlie: *rolls eyes and scoffs* Exactly. I hardly even know you and you're the guy my sister is bound to for life. You've hardly ever acknowledged me before. You've hardly ever spokento me and you have no interest in anyone but my sister. I don't like you because I know that the imprint you have with my sister isn't how you really are or were before my mom even started screwing with your life.
  • Bella: How can you say such a thing Carlie?!
  • Carlie: Oh please. Shut up mom. You know I'm right. You only support that imprint because now, Jacob will forever be within your grasp. Just because you chose not to have him all those years ago doesn't mean you get to keep him around when he's moved on with his life.
  • Renessmee: Will you be my maid of honor?
  • Carlie: I haven't seen or heard from you in nearly four years sis. And frankly I don't want to go to your wedding at all. You know your marriage won't end well. You're in love with Nahuel and whether you admit it or not, you don't feel the same pull if the imprint like you used to. Stop dragging Jacob along. Stop your relationship with him and decide what you want. God, you are worse than our mother. Make up your freaking mind.
  • Leah: I didn't think it would be possible, but I am actually best friends with someone who shares half her DNA with Bella Cullen.
  • Carlie: Oh hush. I'm nothing like my mother and you know it. Now shut up so I can hear Tom Hiddleston say "mewling quim."
  • Seth: Are you sure about this Carlie?
  • Carlie: Yes, for the thousandth time. I love you and I refuse to be bound to someone I met only once. I fell in love with you and that is what I've always wanted. To fall in love, not be bound by fate to become whatever my mate pleases.

Jon and Sansa in the late hours, evading sleep and sharing stories.

He turns in his bed for the umpteenth time, searching for sleep but sleep evades his grasp. His eyes are heavy with fatigue but he can’t bring himself to close his eyes. There is only darkness and shadows that dance beneath his eyelids. Sleep is strangely similar to death. The silence, the nothingness, the end of all existence and thought. The moment he sleeps, he is dead once more.  There are no colours, no dreams, none of those things exist for dead men.

He tries to push all thoughts of death and nothingness out of his mind but the thoughts are relentless, they creep through the cracks in his mind, slipping in just like winter. He squeezes his eyes, desperate for something, anything truly. He wishes he knew what it was that he wanted but his desires and wants are unknowable to him. He does not know if it is because death has stolen his memories of all human desires or needs or if it because the things of men are now barred to him. The answers evade his reach, frustratingly close and yet still so unknown and far away. He doesn’t know the answers, perhaps, he never will. All that he knows is that death has made him a strange creature.

There is a hesitant knock at the door and he pushes himself up, grateful for the sudden interruption. He hurries to the door, not caring that it is late, only relieved that he is able to escape his thoughts for but a moment. He opens the door, opening his mouth to greet whoever it is but his words die in his mouth at the sight of who it is. It’s Sansa, wrapped up in a blanket, her head poking out. For a moment, he sees the girl from his childhood, the one who had used to sneak into his room before she learned her courtesies and his place. The memory cuts sharply at some unknown space in his chest.

“Sansa?” He asks cautiously. The girl before him juts out her chin, a stubborn look in her eyes but he sees the fear that burrows itself into her eyes. She trembles before him and he pretends that it is because she is cold. Sansa had never trembled before, not even when she was most scared. His throat goes tight every time he allows himself to wonder where she learnt how to tremble.

“I can’t sleep.” Her words are simple and plain but something inside him moves at her statement. He nods, moving out of the way and she steps into the room, wrapping the furs around her tightly. He stares at her, watching her as she studies their father’s, his chambers. From this angle, beneath the shadows, she looks like Arya. It is funny, they’re both so different but there was so much of Arya in Sansa. There are flashes of their little sister so quick and sudden that it makes him feel dizzy. The jut of her chin, the shape of her eyes, the snap of her voice, even the defiance in her eyes. Standing before him and shouting, her voice loud and girlish, just as his little sister had once done before her mother. He closes his eyes, the pain twisting and sharper than any knife. If he could close his eyes, if she could remain in the shadows, then it would be so easy to imagine it is Arya instead. His little sister sneaking into his room because of nightmares, eyes like his, pleading and tearful.

But they are only flashes and illusions cannot last. You can’t live in the shadows forever and Sansa speaks.

“I’m sorry if I woke you,” Sansa’s voice is quiet and gentle. Disappointment and guilt twists in his stomach. It was wrong and cruel to pretend it was Arya, he thinks to himself. Sansa isn’t his little sister but she is his sister still and somebody he loves.

“It’s fine. I couldn’t sleep either.” Sansa smiles at him, so small that for a moment that he thinks it is another shadow or illusion. “Do you want to get into the bed?” Sansa nods and climbs onto the bed.

 He watches her for a moment before joining her. She faces him, wide and blue eyes watching him, Tully eyes, Lady Stark’s eyes. He slips in beside her, grateful that the phantom of her mother doesn’t suddenly appear between them. All he sees is Sansa, her eyes still wide and fearful. She looks more girl than woman when he’s this close to her. The freckles that dusted her cheeks when she was a child are still there. The bony knees, even the way that she digs her sharp and bony knees into his side is familiar and known.

He brushes a hand against her cheek but she stiffens at his touch. She soon relaxes though.

“I’m glad that you still have your freckles,” he whispers to her. Sansa grins, a wide one that shows all her teeth, the white standing out against the dark.

“I’m glad too,” she whispers back. He traces a finger over each freckle just as he had done when he was a boy and she openly loved him. “I wouldn’t have wanted to lose the love of the stars.” He freezes, surprised. When they were children he had told her that the stars had loved her so much that they had kissed her cheeks, leaving freckles in their place. He had traced and joined each freckle, drawing the constellation across her face.

“You remember.” Sansa nods, her smile softening into something more adult and less known.

“How could I forget? I had the very constellation upon my face. It used to make me feel less alone,” she confesses. His tongue goes heavy with the weight of his words. He wants to bury his head under the ground, pretend that Sansa was safe, pretend that she’s still a little girl but it is impossible. Sansa’s eyes are always sad and there are curves where there had once been pointy bones and skin. She is still Sansa, not even the layer of frost or her mask could hide away that girl.

“I’m glad that you didn’t forget, that it made you feel better.” They fall back into a silence that envelopes them both. Neither has mentioned their pasts. It is easier to ignore and forget the other’s pain in the same way it is simpler to forget that they’re both still broken. They are dancing on the edge, avoiding the truth and evading sleep. It is an edge that they are trying their best not to fall off, even if that means pushing the other down first.

“I’m glad too and I’m glad that I have you here with me.” He hears the raw honesty in her voice. It burns every shadow in his mind, casting light everywhere. It is perhaps that, the sudden light that releases the onslaught of words trapped in his throat.

“I wouldn’t be able to, do this without you, be on my own.” His chest is heavy from the weight of the truth. It leaves him aching and sore. It leaves him wanting to retreat into the shadows but Sansa doesn’t let him. Her hand slips into his own, gentle and questioning, loose as if she is waiting for him to choose what happens next. He wraps his fingers around her own. His grip is tighter than it should be but her grip is just as tight, her nails digging into his skin as if to remind him that this is real. Within the shadows and darkness, they are real.

“I’m broken, though. I’m not the same Sansa.” He looks up and into her eyes and for a moment he is struck silent. For a moment, he sees her as she was when she was a child. Her eyes are wide and open and trusting. It is those eyes that she used to watch their father and Robb with and it is those eyes that are focused on him now. She trusts him just as she did their father, just as she did with Robb. The weight of this revelation strikes him with something he had forgotten existed, something he hadn’t felt since he came back.

Warmth

“Perhaps, we’re all broken now. Maybe it doesn’t have to be bad,” he says. Her eyes widen at what he says and realisation dawns on her face. Perhaps, we are all broken and maybe that means nothing. Maybe all it truly means is kindness and bravery and strength. Maybe it makes kingdoms out of all us, is what he means to say, what he hopes she hears and he thinks that she does, but there is still that stubborn glint. That glint that reminds him achingly of Arya.

“Something loosened inside me when I watched Ramsay get eaten by his dogs,” she says suddenly. He knows what she is trying to push him away, disgust him. Sansa has always been good at turning the most innocent of things into weapons.

“He deserved it.”

“I know.”

“I’m glad that he died. He deserved it.”

“He did,” she says simply.

“You aren’t a monster for this. You aren’t a monster for being happy.” Sansa’s lower lip trembles but she does not reply this time.

There are still questions that he wants to ask her and things he wants to say but he curls his fingers over hers instead. There is a time for honesty and there is a time for shadows and there are some answers that are best left unknown. Answers that deserve to be kept close to one’s heart. He remembers Sansa’s eyes, though, large and trusting and so blue and he knows that one day she will tell him her story and one day he will tell her his. This is the time for bravery and darkness though and so he closes his eyes, ready to be brave, ready to face the darkness.