Story time: on band tour I was sitting in front of this asshole when we were on the bus (he manipulated & was emotionally abusive to my friend, so I already don't like him) We were on the bus, he's making sex jokes, and I'm ignoring him, on my phone. Then, he taps me on the shoulder and asks very flirtatiously 'hey emma, want to come over so you can find out what I'm taking about?' So, I lean over the back of my chair and slap him across the face. Best moment of tour (I'm ace as well lol)
Um wow how confident a 10/10 person you are I admire you, Emma
Wow…um…230 followers???? Guys…guys…i am trash…why are you….um thank you…i love you all….um…wow….you know we have enough people to form a religion….the hamilton religion? The lin religion? The international church of #plowme?
@secretschuylersister wanna be our like pastor….the international church of #plowme needs its true word leader….
Hey, I was wondering if you could recommend any biographies or articles about the founding fathers or the people that worked with them? Or anything about life in the 18th century? (I already have the ones that Ron Chernow wrote about Washington and Hamilton) Thank you!
Wow, um, this is a lot to ask in one ask. I like specifics, but here is where I have made biography recommendations before and you will more than likely find something there that you need.
A/N: So, evidently, I have a serious kink about on-clothes action, and I’m so sorry.
You start up the stairs to the dorm, taking the steps two at
a time until you reach the fourth floor, panting slightly but blessedly warmer
than when you’d stepped into their building. Skirting around two corners and
down a hallway, you reach the door to their apartment and press the key code
into the handle, grinning when SHINee’s “RingDingDong” starts playing through
the intercom. You slip your hands back into your coat pockets as the door
unlocks and opens, nudging your way in with your shoulder.
The entryway is full of shoes, the pretense to organization
in the metal shoe rack by the wall abandoned in favor of the total chaos on the
floor. Your nose wrinkles at the smell, recoiling from the days old sweat and
foot smell from seven very active boys, and you start to wonder if your present
to yourself (and the rest of the donors, damn) shouldn’t be to order a cleaning
service to bleach the place.
“Seokjin?” You call into the apartment, unsurprised that the
lights are still off and the apartment is dead silent. It’s just after
eight—not even Hoseok gets up this early on a Sunday.
Slipping your winter boots off, you bend down and pull the
drawer out from under the entryway step. You and the other donors keep your
slippers in here, where they would be protected from the careless stampedes of
the vamps when they come in and out of the apartment. You pull out the pink
slippers with your initial stitched into the side and slip your feet into them,
drawing your coat from around your shoulders as you do so. It’s still chilly in
the apartment—likely, Jimin had turned down the thermostat the day before and
left it. Your sweater’s just warm enough to protect you from the cold, but you
turn up the heat a few notches at the thermostat by the door anyway. Taehyung
would whine if he woke up to a second ice age in the dorm.
On your way to Seokjin and Yoongi’s room, you peak into the
living room and kitchen. Random things are strewn around the couch and coffee
table, jackets and pants, video game controllers and chip bags, pieces of
brightly colored Christmas wrapping paper still curled up into balls on the
floor, despite the weeks after the new year that had come and gone. A pair of
scissors sticks out from the Colossal Titan’s mouth on the bookcase, the tape
dispenser hanging from one of its blades. You stare at it for a moment before
making a detour to grab them and set them in a safer spot onto the bookshelf,
shaking your head in disapproval.
You’re the second eldest of the donors, after Yoongi’s
donor, and you’d grown up with four younger siblings, three of which had been
boys, so you had plenty of experience handling the roughhousing, the messes,
and the seemingly willful ignorance of common sense, but add in the vampire
element to the mix and the apartment practically becomes the dungeon before the
final boss battle of a fantasy RPG— difficulty rating: out of antidotes, just
let the poison kill you and start over.
“Hunk, you dismantle the ion cannon while I take these jerks on a space ride.” “Ten-four!”
I think this is a really nice example of how well Hunk and Lance work together. Lance acknowledges Hunk’s capacity for mechanical engineering, and Hunk responds instantly! Also, the ease and relaxed manner (relatively) in which they speak makes me think that Hunk and Lance are used to working together in urgent situations. It’s only a small piece of dialogue from season one, but I like it a lot. Hunk and Lance really have a lot of chemistry as team mates.