you cannot even begin to know

So last week, for the humble price of $17, I ordered a copy of the original script of The Room from Tommy Wiseau’s website, which was a thing I did not know existed until like… a week ago, and anyway, it came today.

I knew TW wouldn’t let this kind of thing get out the door without some kind of personal touch, but I had no idea just how far he’d go.

For those of you who might be having a tough time reading it, it says: “to: Kraig, May all your dreams come true, love: Tommy Wiseau.”

He even went so far as to date it, BUT WE’RE NOT DONE.

He also included a shirtless headshot as soon as you open the thing up.

And last but not least, a pair of underwear with his name emblazoned on the waistband.

I cannot even begin to process all of this but yeah if you ever want to get the original, even more absurd script of The Room now you know what you’re getting into.

(this is probably gonna be a long oneshot and once there’s more it’ll be on ao3 but for now, let me know what you think?)

There are things that Kent can handle, and then there are things that Kent cannot, under any circumstances, in any universe, even begin to handle.

As it turns out, watching Jack Zimmermann, Alexei Mashkov, Randall Robinson, and Sebastian St. Martin attempt to build a deck is one of the things that he can’t handle, because holy fucking shit.

It’s about a million degrees out, and they’re all shirtless and covered in sweat and, yeah, it’s the off season, but they’re still professional fucking hockey players, for fucks sake, and Kent realizes then and there that accepting the invitation to spend the week at Jack and Bitty’s new cottage was definitely a mistake because, really.

Except for Mashkov, everybody brought their families, and they’re all friends, and they’re all teammates, and Kent is 99% sure that his invite was a pity one prompted by the Aces losing the Stanley Cup in game seven against the Stars, and he can’t help but feel like he doesn’t belong there at all, and he can’t help but think it’s because he doesn’t.

Keep reading

You would have been 11 today. You would have curled around me like a serpentine thing and fallen asleep within minutes. Do I say I miss you? Is it enough? We are creatures built to love, you and I, and the price for that magic is loss. The price is this ache. Know that I will pay it, know that I will gladly feel the hole in me that you left. Do I say I miss you? Know that you saved my life, more times than I could count, in ways I cannot begin to mention. Happy Birthday my perfect Hobbes. I will celebrate you this day, as I do every day, and I will feel you near me as I look for you again, for I know you are here now, I know you chose to come back, even though you did not have to return. You are here, within me, and you are here, saving someone else’s life, one piece at a time, while I type these words. Happy Birthday Hobbes. I love you.

I have recieved a few worried messages about Trump’s presidency from people who are part of the LGBT community. I am from the UK, so I cannot even begin to understand how scared you must all be feeling, espciecally after Mike Pence’s statement. I cannot promise that everything will be okay, and I think you all know that the future is definitely looking uncertain in terms of LGBT rights.

We all need to come together now, no matter where you are in the world. We need to unite and stand together even more than we have before. We need to link up with other opressed groups; blacks, latinas, hispanics, muslims, disabled and all the others, to tackle this together. Together we are stronger.

As Chad Griffin (Human Rights Campaigner) has said; “To every LGBTQ person across this nation feeling stunned and disheartened, and questioning if they have a place in our country today, I say this: You do. Don’t ever let anybody tell you otherwise. Be bold, be strong, and continue to stand up for the principles that have always made America great.”

#HesNotMyPresident

anonymous asked:

Is there any particular reason why you decided to write a book specifically about murdered children? So excited by the way, love your writings!

Well, the murder of a child is a complete aberration of nature, even more so when the killer is never brought to justice. We like to think when a child is murdered, their killer is always swiftly apprehended but that isn’t always he case. With justice not being served and questions remaining unanswered, the family members cannot begin the healing process. Everybody knows who JonBenet Ramsey is but there are so many unsolved child murder cases that just receive little to no recognition, which is very alarming. There’s no chance these cases will ever be solved if people don’t know about them. I just wanted to bring these cases to light. Of course any unsolved murder is heinous, but the murder of an innocent child is particularly poignant.

Beth’s 2016 Fic Round-Up

It’s bee quite the year hasn’t it!! I started this blog in May, and posted my first fic within a week, and I cannot even begin to express how great the past 8 months have been with this fandom! It’s been so great getting to know all of you, and sharing in the excitement over updates and Ngozi’s amazing characters has been so much fun. 

I started this post yesterday, and then accidentally posted it, so I had to delete (wahh), but I’m going to put all the fics I’ve written this year, in chronological order, under the cut! (doesn’t include all the hc posts and very small fics, but all my stuff can be found here)

[Fics: 39, Words: 116,656 … yikes lol. Mostly NurseyDex with a sprinkling of zimbits, shitty/lardo, holsom, and poly!frogs]

Keep reading

The last few days, this has really been on my mind. In different words, surely, but the idea of action and reaction. The power we allow people to hold over our hearts, brains, emotions, thoughts, and yes, our bodies too. Why do we do this? We know we shouldn’t and fully aware, yet there are certain people we cannot help but feel under our skin.

I think, for most of us, it is fear based. Maybe fear of rejection, being a disappointment, fear of losing people, or even of becoming independent from the views others create for us. We have to find our own way to heal from these behaviors, but first uncover the reason.

This is where healing begins. We cannot control the reactions of others. No matter how kind and easy you are, someone will be there to make you doubt yourself. No one deserves that power over you.

Namaste

Image only from Project Happiness

dustyirish  asked:

How do you deal with stories that stop half-formed? Do you go back to them later and try to finish, or do you let them die a respectable death? I'm the queen of half stories - I must have hundreds lying around. Just wanted to know if you think they're worth trying to resurrect.

oh gosh, I know this feeling all too well, my folder is full of almost a hundred half finished stories so I think I can offer a little advice here!

I think my biggest piece of advice is this:

do not delete / throw out your half finished stories.

I cannot even begin to tell you how many stories I wrote and then gave up on, left for weeks, deleted and then got inspiration for suddenly only to find I had deleted it and had no way to recover it. It’s one of the most frustrating things to go through when it comes to writing.

Now onto the actual question: dealing with ‘em. inspiration comes from the weirdest of places so even if you decide to leave them to rot you might always find something that sparks another idea for that story you started nine months ago, wrote four chapters for and then abandoned.

Something had to inspire the story in the first place. If you’re struggling to find inspiration to keep writing it’s always worth going back to what first inspired it and seeing if it helps.

If it’s the case of just starting a story and losing muse for it before hopping onto another and then repeating this over and over, inspiration may not be the problem. What I do here is keep a list of all of the stories I write- half of the notes on my list don’t even have full plots but that doesn’t matter.

When you have free time or feel like writing but you don’t want to work on that new story you just started you can go back and read over the list. It’ll have all your ideas in one place and the best part is, you don’t have to start from scratch, you already have part of the story written! Choose the one that sticks out to you the most and write as much as you want to on it. Bravo, you’ve started working on that abandoned story again!

Writing is weird. You can only have inspiration to write one story for a month, have it all planned out with detailed scenes and a decent plotline and then dump it one day and never want to touch it again. Whatever, it happens and if you really don’t ever go back to them you can let them die. In my opinion and experience though, you’ll probably go back to it in your own time for some reason or other.

td;lr keep your stories. usually they’re never really dead, just dormant. if you really liked the story and you think it’s worth finishing you’ll go back to it eventually. if you never do back to it and you really do think it’s just dead, keep it safe because you never know. it’s always worth trying to resurrect your stories.

- percy (if any other mod wants to throw in their two cents, please do)

                                                    HOLY SHIT 900+.

        where  do  i  even  begin.         you  guys  are  seriously  AMAZING.     each  &&  every  one  of  you  are  such  an  inspiration  to  me  it’s  insane.    words  can’t  describe  how  grateful  i  am  to  know  you  all  ,  and  to  see  such  beautiful  creativity  is  a  blessing.     without  you  guys ,  this  blog  wouldn’t  have  taken  off  as  it  did.     seriously  ,  i   cannot  thank  you  enough.  <3       so   in  no  particular  order  ,   below  are  people  i  absolutely  adore  &&  people  who  have  given  me  incredible  joy  being  here.   

@gangrieve / @prophetgrieved  ||   @cachazo  ||  @worserthoughts  ||  @sylphboned  ||  @helenaiism  ||  @streetbound   ||  @feveredsilk  ||  @iiidiosyncrasies  || @prevariicator   || @steelfists   ||  @violenceinherent  ||  @saeviire  ||  @iindiscriminate  ||  @urulxce  ||  @decuernos  ||  @anoiiinted   || @townterror  ||  @snailborn  ||  @arae51  ||  @cassiculus  ||  @ofumbras  ||  @filmeds  ||  @dealshit  ||  @wandwork  ||  @dollfaced  ||  @heartburnt  ||  @gorespit  ||  @icecaprising  ||  @theredconqueror  || @femmekill  ||   @sncrlisms  ||  @spiritoftrickery  ||  @wiickedly  ||  @shadcwpreacher  ||  @crescentvein  ||  @daddyclaaus  ||  @veracitic  ||  @eighthruled  ||  @ornitus  ||  @silvcrstray  ||  @natusexcinis  ||  @carisiisms  ||  @cursedfly  ||  @cupshattered  ||  @nefarii  ||  @littleunsure  ||  @experimcnt  ||  @killerxwoman  || @kingsleigh  ||  @valdreyri  ||  @dokkstjarna  ||  @vampiirisms  ||  @vicemirrored  ||  @vindictivevirus  ||  @vilemagic  ||  @finelendal  ||  @wickedpills  ||  @onlyhxlfdead  ||  @hisburial  ||  @jollypyro  ||  @jockcharm  ||  @ramsaii  ||  @rationedwell  ||  @deathbykaulitz  ||  @niightbump  ||  @bleedsroses  ||  @cultdeath  ||  @coriah  ||  @xuelebre  ||  @xghxuls  ||  @hunterofpie  ||  @barbedtongue  ||  @bcnkers  || @bcrderliine  ||  @maegtig  ||  @lcbrat  ||  @bornesin  ||  @stcrmxn  ||  @eilalima  ||  @bloodbaptised  ||  @fashicniista  ||  @dontparty  ||  @ghculed  ||  @hastodosomething  ||  @olivercharlcs  ||  @backwccds  ||  @artcfwar  ||  @warcraftcr  ||  @goodgollymissholllly  ||  @murderchased  || @murdrous  ||  @harrcwer  ||  @padshiy  ||  @shirtclad  ||  @fissarsi  ||  @theirkind  ||  @liaisonwritten  ||  @nxrestfxrthewicked  ||  @ssanis  ||  @taintedkiller  ||  @tastcful  ||  @salemborne  ||  @omcrta  ||  @kobrakush  ||  @ignte  ||  @lightdeath  ||  @zeraphe  ||  @gravebite  ||  @lunarlapis  ||  @scalpelwielding  ||  @retiired  ||  @paiddeath  ||  @sharedcage  ||  @sugarbcby  ||  @butcheriings  ||  @darksighted  ||  @pcisonvein  ||  @bxstxt  ||  @mettatonmas  ||  @acidcorrodes  ||  @regiium   ||  @ichorlicked   ||  @ignatiius   ||  @alleyspat   @dhubh   @sloppyscconds   and  to  many  ,  many  more  that  i  can  not  possible  fit  here.     you  guys  are  the  best <3

This absolutely happened you cannot convince me otherwise
  • Phoenix: Why don't you buy me flowers?
  • Miles: I wasn't aware you liked flowers.
  • Phoenix: Well I don't, really. Not that I really know anything about them.
  • Miles: Then why do you want me to buy them for you?
  • Phoenix: Well it's the spirit of the thing, y'know? To give flowers to the one you love.
  • Miles: I wouldn't consider it terribly romantic to buy you something that dies in a week, particularly when you don't even like flowers to begin with.
  • Phoenix: Miles you're missing the point.
PSA

I’ve posted picture of my body before, but in case you haven’t seen that picture, I would just like to make it known that I am a white woman.

I cannot even begin to understand what people of color go through, I cannot even begin to pretend I know their struggles, or even pretend like I haven’t been born into a world where I am given certain privileges because I am white. But, while I cannot even begin to fathom the pain, I will do what I can to take a stand against the scrutiny and injustice against those who are suffering, and who have suffered before them.

I hope this doesn’t upset anybody. I love you all. I hope you all have lovely evenings. 💖

Your identity is a slur

I’ve been really preoccupied mentally with this ‘queer is a slur’ thing going around. I’ve seen a lot of ppl explaining the histories behind queer and its reclamation by queer folks, but I wanted to riff a little bit about the reasons, for me, that reclamation makes sense as a reaction in the first place.

When I was a young gay, growing up in Birmingham, Alabama, I remember there being one slur I heard a lot that I don’t really hear anymore. I don’t know if this was just an Alabama thing, but pretty much every gay person I knew had heard or used this word at some point and lots of str8 folks used it too: flamer. 

It was short for ‘flamboyant’–used primarily to describe gay men. I cannot even begin to describe to you my loathing for this word. Not only did I just fundamentally think it sounded stupid, I hated that: (1) it was consistently used to gender-police gay men, because of course acting flamboyant was all about not being sufficiently masculine; (2) the idea that to be acceptable queer folks need to hide their queer ways and act like str8s is distasteful; (3) str8 ppl would sometimes mis-define by claiming that it was because “gay people would burn in hell”; (4) gay men used it against each other as much as str8 ppl used it against gay men.

One of my best friends back then was a guy named Josh. Big, cuddly, sweet, I-dare-you-to-no- love-this-guy Josh. There was nothing particularly effete about Josh’s appearance, but he was not remotely interested in the trappings of masculinity; one of his many affectionately given nick-names was “Spirit Sparkles.” Josh often referred to himself as a flamer–he took a lot of pride and pleasure in the term. Sometimes he would introduce himself that way to other gay kids we met. It was a really aggressive stance, because it flipped the tables on anyone who wanted to use the term pejoratively. 

What I mean to say is that in a situation where one person called another a flamer as a derogatory term, you’d have to pick the term apart and point out all the things wrong with it: “Hey, you shouldn’t use that word because it implies that there’s something wrong with acting gay and anyway how does someone act gay that doesn’t make any sense, and also it sort of implies that men who have feminine attributes are wrong and that’s gross.” On the other hand, to embrace the term was to signal that everything deemed ‘bad’ by its use as a slur was in fact a source of pride. Moreover, it put the other person in the position of having to say what was wrong with being flamboyant. In this way, this act of reclamation was a Gordian knot solution–rather than untangle the term, reclamation allowed Josh to cut through all the bullshit.

One of the persistent problems with terminology in the queer community is that there are no words for us that haven’t been at one time or another a slur because for an enormous chunk of our history in Western culture the dictionary definition of who we are was itself imbued with negativity. Even the word homosexual was a pathologized medical term for a psychological disorder until 1974. In this context, reclaiming slurs as markers of pride is one of the only courses of action open to us: and, in fact, this is one of the key concepts in Pride parades. They sprung up in the wake of the 1969 Christopher Street Riots as an explicit way of saying to str8 communities: these people you denigrate the most (drag queens, transgender individuals, POC) in the gay community are a source of pride for us. We’re here, we’re queer, we’re not going anywhere. 

My identity is a slur. What I do and what I am are offensive to people. I cannot escape this, but I can embrace it. I can take pride in the very aspects of myself that others find perverse. I can–and I do.

Me: hi

A DC fan: Hey!! Did you know Damian Wayne, son of Bruce through Talia Al Ghul, isn’t white?! He’s half white, part Arab, part Chinese! I hate when he gets white-washed! Also, don’t read the Earth-2 comics because they kill off and do horrendous things to their female characters without reason! Are you excited for the Wonder Woman movie this summer? My god, I cannot even begin to tell you how amazing it is that we get to see a movie like this! And that in some comics, Oliver and Dinah have a son?! Laurel Lance deserved so much better in the show :( Haha, Harley Quinn is so adorable! She’s very very bisexual and is engaged to Dr. Pamela Lillian Isley AKA Gotham rogue Poison Ivy, so don’t give me any of that Joker x Harley crap because its terrible and abusive! And you know Ryan Potter, who voiced Hiro Hamada in Big Hero 6, might play Tim Drake in the upcoming Batman movie?!? Isn’t that so awesome? I hope he gets the part! Young Justice Season 3 is coming out and sghsdkg I cannot wait because we’re getting the Teen Titans because we’ll have Dick, Beast Boy, Cyborg and Raven - and we’ll also see what happened to Wally!! The DCEU is epic, anyone who thinks otherwise can go back to Marvel. And Injustice is a great game but I recommend the X-box version because its the best, and the app is just slow :( Gosh, Donna Troy is such an amazing hero, I wish she got more recognition! Actually, all of DC’s women are very brave and very strong I’m sobbing. And did you know everyone in DC is gay or bisexual? We don’t have time for your heterosexual nonsense! BUT MY FAVORITE PART IS CANDICE PATTON PLAYING IRIS WEST ON THE TV SHOW BECAUSE SHE IS AMAZING AND GORGEOUS AND SHE IS A STELLAR IRIS WEST. also, comic books suck. they’re so expensive and hard to keep up with and i’ve sold my soul to satan.

Imagine Sam and Dean introducing you to Castiel for the first time.

“This is Castiel.” Said Dean.

“Castiel?”

“Yeah, he’s an…” began Sam.

“Angel. He’s an angel.” You finished Sam’s sentence.

“Yeah… how did you know?” Asked Dean, confused.

You turned towards Castiel before replying softly, “I can see your wings.”

Both Sam and Dean just stare at each other in shock. “What!?” They both shout.

“How is that even possible,” begins Dean. “Humans can’t see an angels’ wings.”

“That is correct,” says Castiel. “But there is an exception to that statement.”

“An exception? Really?” Asks Dean.

“Yes, humans cannot see an angels’ wings unless…”

“Of course,” shouts Sam, interrupting Castiel. “The myth about guardian angels!”

You and Dean turn to stare at Sam.

“Yes,” continues Castiel. "Humans can’t see a typical angels’ wings but they can see their guardian angels’ wings. Think of it as a… like a “bonding thing” between the human and their angel.“

“So, you’re my guardian angel?” You ask as Castiel nods. “I have my very own angel!” You shout excitedly with a smile.

2

WOW!

I cannot begin to thank you all enough for all of the love and support you have given me! This has been a crazy and wild ride and I can’t believe it! You have given me so much confidence and continue to inspire me each and every passing day. I wouldn’t be where I am now without you, so thank you!

I’ve said it before, but I truly have been blessed with the most kind, interesting, creative, talented and hilarious followers. I am so lucky to know you, even if anonymously. I look forward to your messages, your tags crack me up, your prompts give me ideas and insight I would have never thought of on my own, and you are the reason why I manage to draw everyday :) Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you so much!

also, on that note, listen up my little queer children. 

“Gay” is actually still used as an insult or derogatory term! The most frequent use is someone saying “That’s gay” or “That’s so gay” in response to something they don’t agree with and is used as a substitution for “dumb” or “stupid” and just something really hurtful!

(Unlike “queer” which really isn’t used as a slur anymore in fact the queer community has already taken that back and started to use it for themselves again so that’s not really hurtful at all)

BUT, if you ever have a friend who says “gay” in a derogatory way (see above) and they KNOW you’re gay, instead of trying for the hundredth time to explain to them why they shouldn’t use gay that way, try this on for size:

“That’s so gay”

“No it’s not. I’m gay”

I cannot even BEGIN to tell you how fast that shuts them up. Because they’ll make the connection of their use of gay in that context and realize just what they’re saying and who they’re saying it around.

There’s nothing quite like watching the growing shame as they fidget awkwardly and try to cover up by explaining what they meant but knowing there’s just no getting out of that one

Confessions Of A Drunk Assassin *Bucky Barnes x Reader*

Originally posted by cesaray

Requested by Anon:  Hello, can I request Bucky x reader?Like Tony takes Bucky and Steve to drink and they come back super drunk (just pretend okay? lol) and Bucky confess/kiss the reader. Thank you 
Warnings: Drunk Bucky, fluff and drunk kisses, plus hangovers and feels
Admins Note: I know Bucky cannot get drunk but in this he does. Also I made this a lot more Christmas-y, as in they drink a lot of eggnog and mulled wine, like barrels - well Bucky does and he has a cute Santa hat on as he kisses you. 


No One’s P.O.V throughout

Tony laughed loudly as Bucky downed another pint glass of eggnog, something he didn’t like in the beginning but as the afternoon turned into the evening, he was becoming increasingly accustomed to the drink. 

Steve sat and watched as the two… bonded with alcohol. He wasn’t drinking as much as those two, he didn’t want to test the limitations, although I think they had found Bucky’s since he was clinging to the bar for support. 

Hey, oldies I stole Thor’s Assgardian juice” Bucky laughed at what Tony called it, repeating the word ass, he banged his metal fist on the bar as he laughed and the black marble cracked. Silence consumed the two drunken messes of men, Tony looked stunned and Bucky held his metal hand out like he had just realised he had this.

Wow… I am seriously strong” he hiccuped, a grin forming “I could probably carry… a gallon of milk or something” he slurred and Tony nodded.
“I can handle a pint, anything more would be absurd” he flared his arms out, Bucky nodded, noting how tiny Tony’s arms are. 

“Down the hatches, lads” he poured the seriously strong God juice into all three cups “I have like more of this, so keep drinking,” he told them, both Bucky and Steve downed their drinks and Tony was swaying back and forth, it had been a while he had drunk this much. 

I feel tingly” Steve began to slur after his third Asgardian drink, Bucky snickered, hair falling into his face as he blew it out but the strands floated back down again. 

“I feel tingly sometimes, only around (Y/N)” he confessed, Tony then remembered the reason behind this afternoon drinking, he wanted Bucky to confess his feelings about you. 

“That means you like her” Steve sang, Tony nodded in agreement, Bucky looked a little startled but happy as he realised they were right “you should totally go for it” Bucky nodded in a rush “like… go up to her, confess and then like… make out or have sex, what’s the one when two lips collide… sex or make out?” Steve asked confused, all three men began to think on that. 

All three men stood up, holding onto each other for balance, Bucky was the first to walk and he stumbled to the floor; Tony helped him up but ended up falling onto Steve who managed to stay balanced. The walk from one room to the next was surprisingly difficult. Yourself, Natasha and Wanda all sat watching television when the three drunken men walked in, each trying to act casual like they hadn’t been drinking for five hours; although the stench of alcohol clued you in on them. 

You guys smell like a liquor store” you admit, the others nodding agreement, Bucky stumbled and pointed at you for a while he looked as though he was trying to remember to talk “you okay?” you stand up and walk to him, he nods, Steve nudged him and that causes Bucky to trip but he remains somewhat stable.

“(Y/N)” he began, you look at Natasha who was busy laughing at Steve and Tony, both poking each others faces asking why the mirror is funny looking “you are very… bootiful” he clarifies, you raise your eyebrows and mutter a thank you, slightly unsure why he was so drunk “don’t tell Steve but I’m kind of drunk” he whispers to you, a loud gasp happens, Steve has fallen to the floor because Tony had told him Taco-Bell is closed. 

“I think we would look really good together,” he says coherently, you widen your eyes, either this is the drink or its amping him up to confess his feelings “I’m either going to kiss you or puke on you, I haven’t decided,” he tells you in advance. 

Before you could possibly move away, he pulls you closer and smashes his mouth to you, the kiss was nice but the taste of the various exotic drinks was unpleasant, he pulls away “I’m either going to pass out or die” he tells you before falling backwards. 

                            *****
“My head” Bucky groans walking groggily into the kitchen, Tony and Steve sat groaning at the breakfast bar, Tony was somewhat okay but Steve had his head hidden in a trash can and would throw up whenever he groaned too loudly. You were sat smiling drinking apple juice, you loved seeing these three in this pain, you warned them about drinking earlier in the afternoon but they all shrugged you off “stop smiling, (Y/L/N)” Bucky growls slightly. 

“I can’t” you confess “Confessions of a drunk assassin makes me slightly giddy” you tell him, his eyes widen and you chuckle “also… thanks for choosing to kiss me and not throw up, also for passing out and not dying” you tell him, he lets his head fall onto the table with a loud groan. 

“I am never drinking again” Bucky yells, you stand up and pat his shoulder “I did mean it though,” he tells you, mumbling because of his face onto the table, he picks his head up and he looks slightly okay but still a grumpy face present.

“Well, I’ll wait for you under the mistletoe, just brush your teeth because five hours of alcohol makes you smell real bad,” you tell him “shower, all of you” you yell and Tony looks at the two super-soldiers.

“Hopefully, she didn’t mean together” Bucky chuckled at him, he then remembered he broke the bar, he got up and began to prepare for the rage that would be Tony Stark. 

mudamilk  asked:

GHOST I FEEL BAD FOR DOING THIS BUT I'D REALLY REALLY REALLY LIKE A LOVELETTER FROM GIORNO ;w; I hope it isn't too much trouble ♡

It’s no problem Milk hun I’ll gladly do it! sorry if this is a little ooc and the translation may be a little off but I did my best! @jjbamilky

- Ghost

Il mio amore più caro,

It feels as though our times together have been brief as of late in fault of my occupation taking most of my hours away from you and for that I apologize. A single letter simply can’t do the justice of expressing my affections for you so I will save most of my words for when we are next able to meet however I want you to know that since the moment you first arrived into my life I have utterly adored you - without you I doubt that the path to the life I have now would have been far harder to obtain without your devotion and support and for that I cannot even begin to describe my gratitude. 

I adore you and wish nothing more than to make you as happy as you have made me and I hope that we can spend the rest of our lives as blissful and content as we are now. I can’t wait to have you back in my arms and look forward to our next meeting.

- Yours, Giorno

…Was this okay? 030 I’m still iffy on Giorno for some bizarre reason I never think I can get him right but I hope you like it!

Hey guys should I make this a thing where you send in a character and I write a love letter for them? I think I’m getting the hang of this so I think this would be really fun to do ^^ Let me know and I’ll see what happens :3 (i won’t start doing em till I know for sure so please let me know if you’d like to have a love letter day or something! :D)

Random Disney Lyric Meme
  1. ‘Wish I could be part of that world.’
  2. ‘I can show you the world, shining, shimmering, splendid.’
  3. ‘You’re unsuited for the rage of war, so pack up, go home, you’re through.’
  4. ‘Forget about your worries and your strife.’
  5. ‘Why is my reflection someone I don’t know?’
  6. ‘Yet still I cannot see, if the savage one is me, how can there be so much that you don’t know?’
  7. ‘Yeah, the only girl who’d love him is his mother!’
  8. ‘Barely even friends, then somebody bends unexpectedly’
  9. ‘At least out loud, I won’t say I’m in love.’
  10. ‘Evil as clear as the scar on his face.’
  11. ‘Were you once an outcast too?’
  12. ‘I want to know about these strangers like me.’
  13. ‘When will my life begin?’
  14. ‘You ain’t never had a friend like me.’
  15. ‘Someday you’ll walk tall with pride.’
  16. ‘Should I choose the smoothest course?’
  17. ‘Zero to hero, just like that!’
  18. ‘Conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know.’
  19. ‘There may be something there that wasn’t there before.’
  20. ‘All at once, everything looks different, now that I see you.’
  21. ‘The thingimibob that does the job is bibbidi-bobbidi-boo!’
  22. ‘Try the grey stuff, it’s delicious!’
  23. ‘If you keep on believing, the dream that you wish will come true.’
  24. ‘I steal only what I can’t afford- that’s everything!’
  25. ‘For the first time in forever, I won’t be alone.’
  26. ‘Ain’t got time for messin’ around, it’s not my style’
  27. ‘I wanna be like you’
  28. ‘And with all this romantic atmosphere, disaster’s in the air.’
  29. ‘I’d have lived my whole life through, lost forever, if I’d never knew you.’
  30. ‘I know you, I’ve walked with you once upon a dream’
You don't know how lucky you are

Yeah, I always thought Ahsoka and Obi-Wan needed more screentime together. As their relationship was never really exploited in the Clone Wars, I had no choice but begin to write fanfictions about those two. More little fics like this will follow. 


Ahsoka doesn’t like diplomatic missions. Negotiations have always been Master Kenobi’s forte anyway, never hers (or Skyguy’s, for that matter). Why her estimated Grandmaster decided to drag her along while Anakin is on a solo mission, that she cannot fathom. It’s not like she’s even useful! She’s just sitting silently beside him, trying to pay attention as the great Negotiator convinces yet another neutral system to join the Republic. Ugh.

She squirms, her lekku twitching almost spasmodically. They are even starting to get a grey tinge, and her Force Signature reeks of impatience and boredom.

Kriff. 

Master Kenobi may seem totally oblivious for now, but she’s going to get the lecture of her life, that she’s certain of. Something on the lines​ of “patience is necessary for Jedi,” “you have to restrain your frustration,” “words and often more powerful than weapons, that’s why you must learn diplomacy” and “you should meditate more, Ahsoka.” Kark, kark and karking kark.

It’s not that she doesn’t like Master Kenobi. On the contrary, he’s one of the people she respects most in the whole Order. She might even be a little… attached to him, the way she’s attached to Skyguy, Rex and Master Plo. But that’s not the point.

… Oh, Force, she’d give anything to spar with Anakin, right here and now! Even math problems would do fine, actually. Or a chat with Jar Jar Binks. Yes, she’s serious. She’s just going to lose her mind if she stays in this room for another minute.

That’s when one of the important-looking-guys (probably royalty; she isn’t sure; not that she cares) finally notices her misery and smiles. 

“Master Kenobi,” interrupts important-looking-guy. “It seems that your Padawan could use some fresh air. She isn’t looking very well. Perhaps she could join my children and their friends in the gardens?” 

“Grandpadawan, actually,” corrects Master Kenobi. But he still nods in approval.

“Go, Ahsoka. You’re free until dinner, but I want you to meditate for a least half an hour before we eat. We might even do some lightsaber practice tonight if there is time.”

Thank the Force!! Meditation is a small price to pay for liberty, and the perspective of sparring with Master Kenobi is really appealing. She grins broadly and practically runs to the door, earning fond and amused glances from the people gathered around the oval table. Master Kenobi just imperceptibly shakes his head, the ghost of smile on his lips. 

Once outside the palace, Ahsoka can’t help but jump and shout in victory, exhilarated. She wants to run, she wants to feel the wind on her face, she wants the oxygen to burn her lungs and clear her head, she wants to collapse on the grass and stay sprawled there, doing nothing but stare at the infinite blue sky, she wants to-

Oh, Force. People. Children. Teenagers. Here, in the gardens. Staring at her. Important-looking-guy’s kids and their friend, no doubt. She can see two natives (she doesn’t remember the name of their species, but they look like dark-skinned humans with golden eyes and short, thin grey horns protruding from their skull), a brash looking Twi'Lek boy with yellow skin, a dreamy-eyed Human girl and a black-furred Cathar boy. 

Wonderful.

She can kiss her afternoon of freedom goodbye. If they are around her own age, no doubt they’re all fascinated by Jedi. They’re going to question her to no end! They have already spotted her, given their looks, and are coming her way. Kriff!

… Oh well, if she can’t avoid them at least she can be polite and behave properly.

The thought surprises even Ahsoka. Master Kenobi’s personality must be rubbing off on her. 

Deciding that it’s better to follow her Grandmaster’s example rather than Anakin’s in that particular situation, she avances toward the small group and waves amicably, smiling. She opens her mouth, ready to introduce herself, when the Twi'Lek cuts her off. 

“You’re with the Jedi, right? What are you? His servant?”

Rude. And denoting an incredible lack of intelligence. Anybody can see the lightsaber hanging on her belt. 

“No, I am Master Kenobi’s Grandpadawan. That means I’m apprenticed to his former apprentice, Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker. I’m Ahsoka Tano, by the way, at your service.”

And she bows formally, shoving her anger deep beneath thick shields, promising herself to release it in a minute. Master Kenobi would be very proud of her answer, but Skyguy would tease her to no end. That’s not how she acts normally. That’s not what she is. She’s not a Negotiator. 

When she straightens up and meet the other children’s gazes, she’s greeted by awed, incredible or downright hateful expressions.

“Master Kenobi? The Negotiator?” chirps the youngest kid, one of the two natives and obviously important-looking-guy’s daughter. “Father didn’t let us see the Jedi, nor did he tell us his name. The Negotiator is really here? You’re not lying?”

“Jedi don’t lie,” snaps Ahsoka, already exasperated by the little girl’s pure adoration. 

The young Togruta knows her Grandmaster is attractive, just as Anakin, but it’s still infuriating to see people swooning whenever he’s mentioned. Because he’s so much more than “attractive”! He is a brilliant strategist, a cunning warrior, a patient teacher, a kind but strong leader and General… To designate him by his looks only is insulting. 

That's​ when the Cathar decides to join the conversation.

“Seriously?! Your Master is Anakin Skywalker, the Hero with No Fear? You live with him?”

Oh, Force. A fanboy. 

“Yes, I do, I…”

And then the Human girl all but shrieks.

“But that must be amaziiiiing!!!! How is he? Is he as funny as he appears to be in interviews?? Are the Negotiator and him always bickering?? People say so on the Holonet. They also say the Republic is lucky to have Generals like them. Do they tell you what happens on the battlefield?”

“I fight with them on the battlefield! I’m a Commander, not some…”

Liar!”

Oh. That was the Twi'Lek.

“You can’t be a Commander. You’re just a girl, and a small one with that. I’m older than you and I bet I can do everything you do ten times better. You are just trying to show off!”

Ahsoka just can’t take any of this anymore. She’s going to show off alright! She draws her lightsaber - please, please, Force, don’t let Master Kenobi see her doing that - and goes through one of the fastest katas she knows. She isn’t a Togruta teenage girl, she is a whirlwind of green fire, a lonely dancer playing with a single flame, fearless, safe because the flame is part of her as she is part of it. She somersaults, she whirls, she rolls, she jumps, beheading countless invisible adversaries. 

Once she is finished, she turns off her weapon and glares at the idiotic boy. Ah! He can’t even speak, that bantha-brained male!

All the other kids are staring, agape. Well, at least they’re silent now.

“Don’t even bother to ask,” she warns, seeing their envious expressions. “I won’t let you touch my lightsaber. It’s not a toy. It’s a Jedi’s life.”

And she turns around, determined never to speak with those children again. She should go to some recluse area and meditate, as Master Kenobi instructed. And then she should lie down and take a nap.

But as she walk away, the other native child, probably the little girl’s brother, speaks for the first time.

“You don’t know how lucky you are. You are a girl and yet you learn how to fight and you get to command soldiers. You give orders and people follow them. Your mentors are living legends. You have incredible powers and you can do amazing things, like moving objects with your mind. Me, my parents force me to learn how to play the Yhtsil'ka flute and the Joru'thal piano. I’ll never be able to wield a lightsaber, and I’ll never be in a real battle. You don’t know how kriffing lucky you are.”

And all Ahsoka can do is stare, astonished, befuddled even. Lucky? Lucky to see clones - brothers - die under her command? Lucky to know nothing but war, to be nothing but a living weapon? Lucky to have no parents, no identity? Lucky to see her mentors coming back from the battlefield exhausted or even wounded?

Memories threaten to swallow her alive, and she finds herself daydreaming, recalling painful past events she’d rather forget.

And then she is in the gardens again, surrounded by children who envy a life they don’t understand, who worship heroes they have never met, who desire powers beyond their comprehension. 

“You know nothing” she spits.

And she walk away, heart heavy and sorrowful.

She meditates for more than two hours, and she’s still meditating when Master Kenobi’s finds her.

“Ahsoka? Is everything alright?” he inquires softly, sensing her distress seeping though hastily erected shields.

As she refuses to answer, he kneels down beside her and puts an hand in her shoulder, sighing.

“What is it, young one?”

And the affectionate appellation melts away her resistance. 

“They called me lucky. They are free, unburdened, they can do silly things like playing the Yhtsil'ka flute, and yet they called me lucky.” 

And she tells him what transpired between the other teenagers and her. He listens without a word. When she is finished, he merely places his other hand one her other shoulder and gathers the Force around them, like a warm blanket made of peace and serenity. 

“That’s why I don’t like the word lucky,” he says as she basks in the Light and warmth that surround the two of them. “Our life isn’t better than theirs, nor it is worse. We aren’t luckier. We were just given greater gifts and greater responsibilities. Luck as nothing to do with it.”

Oh. Right. She is supposed to know this.

Somehow, it all makes more sense when Master Kenobi explains. She feels ashamed for her childish reaction now.

Sensing her emotions once again, her Grandmaster smiles.

“Every Jedi one day finds himself or herself questioning our way of life. It’s normal, Ahsoka, there is no need feel guilty.”

And as she smiles tentatively, he gently strokes one of her lekku and winks mischievously.

“And now, how about I teach you how to play the Yhtsil'ka flute?”