and most of the floors

Picnics and Starlight

For @imaginestarkquill in regards to this post, because they are lovely and deserve all the nice things! I hope you like it and feel better soon, darling!


Tony was so very tired. He had been working non-stop on five different projects the Avengers had wanted, and some on the side for the Guardians aswell. Since the accords had finally been signed, and the team had been reunited, nothing had been the same. Tony was merely a consultant now, and though sometimes he thought he preferred it that way, he was swarmed with work. And since he didn’t want to disappoint anyone, he tried to do it all at once.

“Mr. Quill would like to see you on the roof”. FRIDAY informed him, and he sighed.

He didn’t really have time for this, and Peter most likely would give him some more work, intentionally or not, but then again, he would never pass up an opportunity to see him.

So he went, and when he stepped out of the elevator he was greeted was a most unexpected sight. There was a picnic blanket on the floor and Tony could see various dishes and drinks laid out, while  Peter was standing next to it, turning around when he heard him.

“You don’t have to do all this, you know?”, Tony said and Peter looked confused.

“What do you mean?”

“This.” Tony made a sweeping gesture with his hand. “You don’t have to bribe me, I’m working as fast as I can.”

Peter frowned. “I’m not. I don’t care if the new spacesuit is done tomorrow or next week or never. I just want to spend time with you, and for you to relax.”

Now it was Tony’s turn to look confused. “Why?”

Peter smiled and took his hands. “Because I like you.”

At that, Tony’s heart skipped a beat. Could he really be this lucky? “You do?”, he just had to ask, and Peter smiled even brighter.

“Definitely. So will you have this picnic with me, and let me tell you about the stars I visited?”

And when they sat together on the blanket, with Tony leaning his head on Peter’s shoulder, and looking at the night sky, Tony thought that maybe he wasn’t so tired after all.

anonymous asked:

Hi there! For a QI Clarke headcanon, maybe on her days off when she's not busy, she just naps any and everywhere. Like everyone finds her in the most random places, around the apt (on the floor, on the table, in the bathroom, etc), at Octavia's restaurant, after closing at Houm, in Lexa’s apt, just all over the place. The friends totally has a groupme with pics of Clarke sleeping and a contest of who found her in the weirdest place. Lexa is confused at first, but loves to see a new side of Clake

I can definitely see that!

I worked at a craft store the summer before college.  Here are my best (and the best of the worst) moments:

- A man bought 190 mason jars with lids.  I asked him if this was for a wedding, or if he was making jam.  He was doing neither.  He did not have plans for mason jars.  He just thought they were a really good sale.

- A woman bought her brother and his fiance a giant rainbow bow for their wedding present.  She whispered that they had been married before, but that the fiance had dressed as a woman and they wanted to make it real now that it was legal.  She shouted that rainbows are gay.  Her style is unusual.

- A little girl left finger-painted handprints on the inside of the back pockets of the pants I was wearing.  It was the most terrible case of “mistaken mother” I have ever experienced.

- A little girl came in looking for SWAPS for Girl Scout camp (pins you trade with other scouts at camp).  She asked me if I could help her even though I am too old to be a Girl Scout.  I showed her my lifetime membership card and the SWAPS on my keyring.  She told me I am her best friend, and came back two weeks later with a SWAP she had saved for me from camp.

- A woman came through with wedding supplies for her granddaughter and a very nervous outlook on the price.  I asked her what my name was, pretending to forget about my nametag, and when she got it right, pronounced her my good friend and gave her my friends-and-family discount.  She cried.  I might have too.

- A father bought his little boy a doll set.  The boy told me that the last set had been for his friend, but he had liked it much more than she did, so he was getting his own.  His baby sister was chewing on a monster truck.  I liked this family.

- I became known as the cashier who would give you the discounts under my register if you were nice.  The little old ladies who came in every yarn sale loved me.  My coupons and I were their heroes.

- The substitute teacher who had bullied me came through my line and smugly told me that her total was wrong.  I smiled politely and informed her that I had already given her the educator’s discount, but would happily take it off.  She was much less smug after that, as her daughter laughed her out of the store.

- A large woman with a 5 o'clock shadow came through my line.  I told her I liked her skirt.  She responded with the biggest smile I have ever seen.

- And finally, my favorite one:  a nine-year-old girl came up to my register with a stack of t-shirts and told me she had folded them for me, but could not reach where they belonged.  I told her most people would have left them on the floor.  She informed me that I was the cashier who helped her Girl Scout troop mate, and I quote:  "dang it, you do good things for good people!  I want to be a good people like you!“  and skipped out the door, before remembering her mother was still shopping and skipping right back in.

Sometimes, I love retail.

A lavender sunrise reveals the marbled and cracked surface of Dream Lake at Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado. If not for the chill, this would be the most beautiful floor in the world. Photo courtesy of Eric Schuette.

The Smart Way

A long time ago, I worked at a big-box store, pulling boxes off trucks, stacking them on pallets, and sending the pallets out to the sales floor to stock. It was hot, tiring, and not particularly fun, but they paid me, so that was good enough.

I had a coworker that those of us in the warehouse liked to call Crackhead. Crackhead wasn’t really a bad guy, but his choice of vice was really beginning to affect those around him. Unfortunately, he had an industrious, git-‘er-done attitude, which management absolutely loved; if a supervisor told him to run head-first into a brick wall, he’d do it with a smile. Which, I suppose, isn’t all that bad either, at least as far as management is concerned. Except… “charging head-first into a brick wall” was his go-to strategy. If the boxes on the beat-up conveyor belt got stuck, his solution was to shove as hard as he could, slamming the boxes into each other until something broke or fell off and everything started moving again. Of all the breakage we experienced that wasn’t broken in transit, 90% of it was from Crackhead. We lost gallons of paint because he wanted to know what the bottom of the paint box looked like. We lost a case of shampoo because he opened it to see what it smelled like, and dropped it on the cement floor. We even lost our lunch hour once because he somehow broke the time-clock so we couldn’t clock in or out for lunch, and told management that everyone had “totally had taken lunch already” and “oh man, those guys are so lazy, they want two lunch breaks.”

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I’ve been wondering for a while, if, with the several implications of medical torture, Shiro might have a problem with beds from his missing year. Considering the prison cells we’ve seen on the imperial ships don’t seem to have any furnishings, just the floor- so during most of that year, the only time Shiro was actually lying up on something would be if he was strapped to a table.

While that’s a super dark note to start on, it led me to wonder if at a hypothetical point where Shiro actually starts doing better and catching up on sleep, the team just starts catching him sleeping in weird places. Upright in chairs. Across the back of the couch. Sometimes, in Black’s hangar leaning against one of her feet. He manages to terrify at least one person by dozing off standing up in a corner.

He probably likes corners and being able to put his back to a wall since subconsciously less things can sneak up on him, and eventually the team manages to come up with something more comfortable for him that doesn’t set him off so Shiro can actually get some goshdang sleep and not be, most likely, really sore afterwards.

miseducationofmelanin  asked:

How do you meditate?

  1. Set a timer. 15-30 minutes is a good starting point. If you really can’t handle that, go with 10 minutes. 
  2. Sit down and close your eyes. I sit cross-legged in an armchair. You can sit normally in a chair or be lying down on the floor. Most any position is acceptable. The only requirements are that your body is relaxed and your mind is awake. No falling asleep!
  3. Focus your attention and sight in the space between your eyebrows. Meditation uses a focal point such as that space or your breath or a mantra. Try out different focal points for two weeks at a time until you find something that suits you. 
  4. Do not actively think or imagine anything. There is a difference between thinking and having thoughts pop up. Don’t engage in thinking. Thoughts will pop up. Don’t engage them by pushing them away or analyzing them. 
  5. If you lose your focus just bring it back to the focal point. It is okay if you suddenly find that you have wandered down a train of thought. Recognizing that when it happens is part of the meditation training. Bringing your attention back, taking a breath, and letting it go is all you need to do. 
  6. Don’t get up until the timer goes off. All sorts of difficult emotions and thoughts might arise. That is normal. Meditation cleans a lot of junk out of our mind-body. Before it is cleared away, it often comes to the surface. Let the process happen. You are safe. 

This is the technique taught to me by my guru and it is called Jangama Dhyana. You can read more about it on the meditation page of my blog. 

Try it out. If you have any further questions along the way, let me know!

Namaste :) Much love. 

Marichat May Day 16: Flowers

This is wild, oops

Marinette noticed Chat acting oddly lately. Specifically in the last four days. She could figure something was wrong. And she was right. But she only got the confirmation the next day when she was out in the park with Alya. A man in a tuxedo came to her and asked if she was Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

“Um… yes?” she said unsurely because isn’t like strangers come and ask you for your name every day.

“Alright boys, over here!” he shouted over his shoulder.

Marinette’s jaw hit the ground as four delivery men came with a huge bouquet of red roses forming a huge heart while the juliet roses were forming the words Je t'aime.

“Delivery for a Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng, sign here please.”

Marinette signed, without taking her eyes of the bouquet. There were how many roses in that? One hundred? Honestly, she could have signed for giving up her firstborn to a which and she wouldn’t have known. Once the delivery guys gave her a huge bouquet, which required both her and Alya to hold with both hands the man in the tuxedo approached her again.

“An ode for the, I quote, ‘Purrincess’.” he cleared his throat before he took a couple of steps back and took… was that a violin?

Marinette blinked in surprise as a quartet of strings began playing ‘Carelss Whisper’. Meanwhile, Alya was trying to record the whole thing while giving her a look that screamed ‘we will talk about this later’.

She will skin that damn cat boy.

“Oh, Purrincess, how are you on this fine… ouch.” Marinette watched unimpressed as Chat fell from her loft because of the pillow she threw seconds earlier. He got up without a trouble and faked a sob. “My Princess is hurting me, I feel betrayed.”

Marinette glared.

“So… you didn’t like the surprise?”

“Chat, do you have any idea how awkward it is to have a quartet of strings playing you a romantic song in the middle of the damn park? And these roses?” she pointed at the huge floral arrangement which occupied most of her floor. “How did you even think I could explain it?”

“Secret admirer?” he suggested, trying to look sheepish.

Marinette was about to give him a sassy reply when a voice from downstairs stopped her.

“Sweetie, if that is your secret boyfriend as him how many layers would he like the wedding cake to be. And if he would also like a croquembouche.”

Chat cupped his hands around his mouth and answered in her stead. “Yes to the croquembouche and seven layers, please. You are the best parents in law I could ever ask for.”

“We got you, son!” Tom called from downstairs as well.

Marinette facepalmed. How was this happening to her?

Childish (MET with Reader) fluffy drabble

Originally posted by arophan

(( gif not mine - perfect ))

(A/n): guys I’m bored

Summary: The reader is a bit frustrated, so she fixes it herself

Warnings: swearing and stuff


Aggressively, (Y/n) threw up her arms.

“Okay, well, I quit.” she called.

It was very close to one in the morning, and (Y/n) was pissed.

As she was, she lived with Teamiplier as their graphic designer. Although, her tasks were relatively simple, that doesn’t mean she was always able to slip her way out of staying up late.

Like tonight for instance.

Her work seemed like it was cheating her, and her graphics table wasn’t willing to cooperate. All (Y/n) wanted was to get her shit done. But noo.

“Alright, fuck it.”

She arose from her desk chair and snuck herself around the corner, down a hallway of bedrooms. Firstly, she fixed her sock. Then, the girl entered the first bedroom on her left.

“Ethan…” she whispered.

Creeping down his carpet, (Y/n) was careful not to trip in the inkwell darkness.


“Dad…?” the blue boy mumbled thickly. Ethan squirmed a little in his sheets, before looking up at his intruder.

“Get dressed.” she told him.

He fell from his bed, in the most literal sense, and began to pick up whatever clothes were on his floor.

“That’s the opposite of what I want a girl to say while in my room at night…” he commented, tumbling about.

(Y/n) chuckled at his weak joke and made her way down to the next room. Of course, Ethan would wake up to an absurd comment like ‘Dad’. She had legitimately confused him awake.

Quietly creaking into the neighboring room, she had opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted.

“Yeah, I know,” said the gruff voice “get dressed, right?”

“Please?” the girl smiled in the dark.

“I’m already dressed.” Tyler sighed, standing up. He surprised (Y/n) by being fully clad in jeans and a t-shirt.

“I had just finished work and literally flopped onto my bed without undressing…” he admitted. (Y/n) laughed.

Together, both (Y/n) and Tyler entered the final room on the left side.

“Markimoo~” (Y/n) lulled softly, peeping in through the door. No movement was detected from the bed, other than slow breathing.

“Mark…?” she said again, a tad louder. When still nothing came up, she looked to her tall companion. Tyler then spoke frighteningly.


Mark screamed.

✽   ✽   ✽

“Where are we going again?” asked Ethan, yawning quaintly.

(Y/n) finished buckling her seatbelt before she responded.

“Well, uh, nowhere in particular…” she spoke sheepishly, turning to the blue boy “I was just really frustrated a couple of minutes ago… and driving at night helps me. So do you guys. I just thought… if I put them together, I might be able to get more done.”

Mark laughed heartily from the back seat.

“Well, no problem, doll face. I’m here to help!”

The girl beamed at his words.

“Can we go to McDonald’s?” pondered Tyler.

“At one in the morning?” asked both (Y/n) and Ethan.

Tyler raised his hands and shoulders defensively “Hey, she said she was sad. I’m gunna’ treat her to ice cream. At one in the morning.”

(Y/n) smiled at him kindly, thanking him as well. Ethan rolled his eyes while Mark sputtered some words of his own.

“Yeah well, not if I treat her first…” he claimed, challenging Tyler with his stare.

The blue haired male sighed, and put the car into drive.

He taunted “Imagine that, getting treated to ice cream by the Markiplier at one in the morning. Oh, the chivalry.”

Both him and (Y/n) giggled, while (Y/n) added “Every girl’s dream.

“Which of you actually know which ice cream flavour I prefer, though?” the girl asked the two men in the back.

Mark said “VANILLA-!”

While Tyler said “Chocolate.”

Now the challenging stares really began.

“How childish..” sighed Ethan. He smiled widely as he pulled out of the driveway.


(A/n): Imagine getting taken out at one in the morning for ice cream just because you’re sad

A thing you probably don’t know about me is that sometimes I get in this mood where I don’t want to do anything but spend every spare moment binge-watching House, M.D. for several days at a time. I was on ep 2.15, “Clueless,” AKA that one where Wilson crashes at House’s place for a while, when inspiration struck and this Sterek drabble happened. Or… It’s almost 2k words, so maybe it’s a bit more than a drabble, BUT it’s still a drabble in spirit. (Rated T.)

It’s almost midnight when Derek finally shoulders on his coat, locks his office door, and steps out, only to spot Stiles crouched in front of the vending machine at the end of the hall, whacking the glass with the heel of his palm and muttering darkly.

Derek can’t just ignore him; he never can. (It’s a bit of a problem, and everyone in the hospital seems to know it, except for Stiles.) Before he knows it, he’s changed tracks and walked right over. “What are you still doing here?”

Stiles sits back on his heels to look up at him. “Bob ate my dollar and I’m feeling petty so I’m trying to get it back.”

“Bob?” Derek asks, a split second before he remembers that Stiles named the vending machine. It’s just this kind of thing that makes Derek feel guilty for sometimes looking at Stiles’ mouth a little too long, or pausing to let his eyes follow Stiles’ progress down the hall. Stiles isn’t a kid or anything, but he’s still only 26 to Derek’s 32, and he’s still got a year of residency to go. A lot of times, like when he’s jamming out to his iPod while he looks over lab work or doing stupid stuff like naming the vending machines, he seems to Derek more like a college kid than a grown man with a medical license and a house and a girlfriend.

Stiles goes back to hitting the vending machine, and Derek remembers why he originally came over here. “Didn’t your shift end at 7?”

Stiles smirks up at him, and Derek tries very, very hard not to imagine him making that same face in certain… other contexts. “What, you got my schedule memorized now, Dr. Hale? I’m flattered.”

It would make Derek’s life a lot easier if so much of what Stiles said didn’t come out sounding so flirtatious. Derek crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re deflecting.”

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i have a lot of feelings about Grace and Frankie okay


wizarding placesgringotts wizarding bank. engraved on these silver doors are the words: enter, stranger, but take heed of what awaits the sin of greed for those who take, but do not earn, must pay most dearly in their turn. so if you seek beneath our floors a treasure that was never yours, thief, you have been warned, beware of finding more than treasure there.

Break-up Novella.



I’m not 100% on this specific part of the Break-Up Novella bit I felt like I needed a filler part in between Parts 3 and 5. I promise you, Part 5 will be filled and it’ll be better and we’ll see their relationship really get better. There may or may not be a cheeky smut scene at the end, as well as the cutest scene I think I’ve ever written in my life. 

I’m really iffy on this part, so, I apologise in the horrendous flow. I really tried to work through it, I can promise you, haha. Chances are, I will come back to this a really re-do it to fit the novella properly. I lost all inspiration for this section and I’m so unsure as to why. I think I’ve just been SO excited to write the final part because I hate it when the missus and Harry fight because I just love them and I’m rooting for them SO hard… :(((

Enjoy! xx

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