and on this hour of why can't i make nice things

he’s the beauty; she’s the beast

so i’m sure the remake of a timeless classic that disney is about to roll out is going to be great and all

but here’s another way we could do things:

he’s the beauty

she’s the beast

for a movie who’s central theme is inner beauty, it doesn’t really do anything to support that, you know? so how about this: adam, our prince turned beast, isn’t an inhospitable monster. because this back story doesn’t make any sense – why is the young prince of this land alone, in a castle, only to be caught unaware by a witch?

so how about this – this is pseudo france, right, so these royals do what their real life counterparts did. they flee. the cruel, greedy king and queen flee and leave their young son behind with their staff. their son who is kind and soft hearted and totally unfit to rule any kingdom (never mind that they’re literally running away from their own people). not only that – they trade their son for their freedom, trade their kingdom for their freedom. to the witch.

so the witch comes, and she doesn’t disguise herself as a crone, goes to him looking as lovely and young as her magic keeps her. but our prince adam has a talent, one many cast-aside, neglected children have developed – the ability to see people for who they really are, and he knows this is no kind young woman in need of his help. he refuses to let her in – and there’s this little twist to the magic, that she can only enter the palace grounds and claim her prize if she’s welcomed in a as a guest, and he, the young master of this castle, won’t let her in.

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Hey kids I wrote a longer version of The Night Yuuri Katsuki Lost His Mind, AKA the College AU

Yuuri jerks awake just after midnight, realizes that he is surrounded by what to the uninitiated observer would look like the detritus of the insane, and quickly gleans from the angle of the ceiling that he is on the floor.

He flings out a hand, looking for his phone. The light of the screen, even set to its lowest level, pulls a violated wail from his throat.

“Oh my GOD,” Phichit says from the sofa. He sits up, flops himself over the edge. The hamsters start squealing at the sound of their father’s voice. “I submitted myself to only getting an hour of sleep but I am getting an HOUR of sleep, Yuuri Katsuki, do you hear me?”

“When does Starbucks open?” Yuuri demands blearily, trying to work up the energy to disconnect his cheek from the carpet. It smells like Timothy hay and despair.

“This is a college town you absolute disaster,” Phichit growls from the depths of the couch cushion he has his face shoved into. “Starbucks never closes.”

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Listen up folks...

I’m not gonna talk about what sparked this rant. It doesn’t matter. What does matter is what I’m about to say.

I’m freaking done with the hate.

This SPN Family is supposed to be encouraging, accepting, we’re supposed to at least try to get along. Apparently that’s too hard. Now I could rant for hours about how some people in the SPN Family are treating eachother, but that’s for another time. This rant is going to be about one thing, the hate that the wives of the two leaders of this SPN Family receive. For this post I’m going to focus on one of the wives in particular…Danneel Ackles.

Once again as the Ackles family was nice enough to share parts of their life with us, people decide to be douchebags. This time Jensen isn’t happy with his life because he isn’t smiling in the photo of him & JJ. Also apparently comparing his kids to the comedy & tragedy is just a terrible thing to do. Oh, did you also hear that the twins might not be his because he said “my” twins instead of “our” twins. This is all Danneel’s fault too because she makes Jensen hate his life.

She can’t do anything right in the eyes of some people and it’s pissing me off. What did she do to cause so much hate? Now is the part when I ramble on about all she’s done…

She told her husband to go to a convention for the fans a few days after giving birth to twins.

Jensen told the story about finding out about the twins…JJ gave him a letter about it when he arrived at the airport…meaning he couldn’t be at the doctor appoint. How many doctor appointments do you think he had to miss because of filming?

She uses her “celebrity” to bring awareness to different events and situations going on in the world. I didn’t know about the Yulin dog festival until she talked about it. She does different work for a variety of charities, freaking google it if you don’t believe it.

Her husband is in a different country for the majority of the year while she stays back home in Austin. Have you ever had your husband away for a long period of time? Cause I have. It sucks. I complained about it on social media ALL THE TIME, but she never does.

She was a working woman in Hollywood. IMDb that shit. She was a steady worker in Hollywood however she slowed down/stopped when they had JJ.

Think of all the times she’s been out with her husband, cause that’s what Jensen is, he’s not “omg Jensen Ackles TV star”, he’s Jensen, the pain in the butt who forgot to take out the trash or forgot to grab the milk when he ran to the stores. Think about how many times she’s probably been out with him & had to deal with people coming up to talk to him. Now think about how many times this has happened & people have ignored her existence or used her as nothing more then a photo taker. Fans don’t mean too, but that shit probably happens more often then you think. I would get so sick of that.

Did I forget to mention how Jensen freaking lights up whenever someone brings up Danneel? CAUSE I WITNESSED IT IN PERSON A FEW WEEKS AGO & HE LEGIT LOOKS LIKE A TEENAGER IN LOVE WHEN SOMEONE TALKS ABOUT HER!

But no.

Apparently we’re supposed to hate her just cause.

Now is when the “haters” start to go, “you just like her because of who she’s married to.”

No haters.

No.

I knew about Danneel before I knew about Jensen. I know Danneel from One Tree Hill but I started to admire her when she hosted Maxim’s Hot 100 in 2009. She was the really pretty model/actress that I looked up to because she was funny & pretty. It wasn’t until I started watching Supernatural in 2015 that I had the “holy cow they’re married to each other” moment.

So.

To sum up this rant; you don’t have to like Danneel, just don’t be a dick. If you admire Jensen as a human, don’t disrespect his wife or his family.

Basically if you wouldn’t go up to a person & say it to their face, don’t say it. Plus why bother wasting your time hating something when you could spend your time on something you love?

End rant.

“Darkiplier VS Antisepticeye” is Mark’s Effort to Take Back Control From Dark: A Theory

(Disclaimer: I know nothing about any of Jack’s egos, so this is entirely about Mark’s. Disclaimer 2, Electric Boogaloo: I had my Frosted Mini Wheats like two hours late today, and that threw off my groove, so I’m sorry if I’m less eloquent than usual. Disclaimer III- This Time, It’s Personal: The only reason this isn’t under a read more is because someone told me to do that last time, but they weren’t very nice about it, so now I’m being petty. I’m sorry for being the worst. I still love you guys, though.)

In my last theory, we discussed the possibility that Dark is trying to take back control through more subtle means this time, and that he has a plan that we didn’t get to see during Markiplier TV. He’s been slowly giving hints of his existence in videos, teasing just enough to get people talking. He hasn’t revealed himself outright in any videos since Markiplier TV; he hasn’t denied being in them, either. 

Remember this interaction between @markiplier and @hufflepufftrax?

Mark quickly dispels rumors about Darkiplier when they’re not true. Why, then, would he not clear the air during the chaos of World’s Quietest Let’s Play 4, or any other video that has stirred up the community a great deal more than this photo ever did? The logical train of thought, then, is that these really were Dark appearances and we are supposed to know it. So, if Dark has been going about this so carefully all along, why would he reveal himself by sharing the spotlight in a comedy sketch? The short answer is that he wouldn’t. The reality is… say it with me now… it’s just Mark impersonating Dark!

Yeah, I know, no shock there. You’ve been hearing that since the video dropped. I talked about it when answering an ask, which I’m screenshotting and dropping below for your convenience, because I’m just a nice gal like that.

So now we have to ask, why would Mark do this? If Dark really is starting to take back control, this would be a dangerous time to pull a stunt like this, wouldn’t it? Well, it makes sense when you consider the fact that Mark has all but run out of options. 

Every time Dark is hinted at, the community goes wild. It doesn’t matter how subtle the hint may be- if the lights in the background of a video are red and blue, someone will point it out. Someone will draw him. Someone will get excited. And then, over time, everyone will get excited. 

Even if Mark tried to warn us, it only fueled the fire. Reaching out for help, trying to tell us that Dark is here– it is exactly what Dark wants. So Mark now has to try a different tactic. The only way that Dark can lose at this point is if he loses his allure to the viewers, and the only way to do that is to use his own method against him: Dark is pretending to be Mark, and now Mark is pretending to be Dark in order to discredit him. More specifically, he’s trying to get Dark out of the way, impersonate him, and make a fool out of him. That sounds… familiar, doesn’t it? Have we heard that somewhere before?

What if I change up the tense a little and word it a bit more like this?

“Pushed aside. Replaced. Mocked.”

Originally posted by rubies-and-oaktrees

That rings a few more bells, doesn’t it?

When we put all of these things together, a picture starts to form: Mark kept Dark at bay for years by making him a joke, but then he made the mistake of letting down his guard. Letting him back in. Now, Mark is fighting back using the only method that he has ever known to work. Why wouldn’t it this time? Making silly edits, taking over Mark’s twitter with edgy, emo poetry… it was enough to dissuade the community last time. So what could make it fail now? How could humor no longer be sufficient to drive Dark away?

The key difference this time is that Dark is not simply a wisp of a presence like he was years ago. He can’t be laughed off anymore. He is here. He is real. He is powerful. He does not like to be mocked, and this action from Mark will most definitely have consequences.

And the blame for that, really, falls on all of us. As Mark said all those years ago, we made Dark real.  Back then, he had to resort to humor to keep Dark at bay, because none of us would listen to him when he warned us. Now, history’s repeating itself,  but the outcome isn’t so sure this time. We learned nothing in the process. Now Dark has become too strong, because we, the viewers, keep letting him back in. Mark tries to tell us that Dark is here and we are thrilled about it.

So, really, the question isn’t, “Why would Mark do this?”

The question is, 

Why didn’t we listen?

anonymous asked:

I don't want to support racists at all, but I just can't get behind the idea that if someone is peacefully talking, it's okay to beat them, maybe even to death, as long as their views are vile enough. Maybe I'm on the opposite end of Twitter etc from you, but I'm hearing a lot of "punch Nazis or else you're a Nazi supporter" and I can't agree that. (World War II was fighting a war, which is different from brutalizing someone for talking or marching, even if they're doing so to support racism.)

So I have a lot of different perspectives here, none of which fit very well with each other.  This is an issue that brings a lot of my principles into conflict.

1. I believe that justice should operate according to rules and limits.  It should look like “you committed theft, therefore you must return $X to your victim and perform X hours of community service”, not like “you committed theft, therefore you’re A Thief and should be made to suffer.”  I think it’s abhorrent when police beat suspects or prisoners are abused in jail, even if they’re guilty as sin, because cruelty is not justice.

While emotionally I’m not always on board with this, philosophically I think that the concepts of “bad person” and “punishment” are dangerous and toxic, and that it is never okay to declare that a person is so bad that they’re fair game for anything you want to do with them.

2. I believe that it’s better to be the winner than the sympathetic loser.  This is something that seems to come up in a lot of conversations about Nazi-punching–the idea that it’ll make them look like the victim and thereby win public sympathy.  I’m not on board with this being a major concern.  Yes, victimhood can confer some kinds of PR/psychological advantages–but not nearly as many as power can.  Ditch the reverse psychology and when you’ve got an opportunity to win a battle by winning it, go for it.

3. I believe that Nazis aren’t the biggest threat out there.  Yes, it’s disturbing that there are any out on the streets or the Internet, and it’s really disturbing that the Trump administration seems to want to play footsie with them, but in terms of numbers and political power they’re definitely still on the fringe.

And meanwhile nice normal non-swastika-waving politicians are taking away healthcare from nine million children.  Why aren’t we discoursing about punching them?

4. I believe that social messages are powerful.  That is, the best way to win people away from Nazi sympathizing isn’t always rational argument–sometimes it’s making the Nazis look pathetic and unpopular.  We want to send the message “society doesn’t want these people” loud and clear.  A swift punch to the nose will do that.  It may not be a logically sound argument, but if it stops people from thinking Nazis are cool or tough, it’s a good thing.

5. I believe that it’d dangerous to create acceptable targets.  If it’s okay to punch Nazis, what stops someone from saying “my enemy is like a Nazi” or “they’re a secret Nazi” about someone they just really want to punch?  We’ve all seen things like this happen before.

6. I believe at some point you have to separate right from wrong.  It’s really appealing to want totally generalizable ethical principles like “all speech should be free” and “never use violence except for physical defense.”  It makes us feel safe to have no exceptions–it frees us from fear that tomorrow it’ll be our speech that’s considered hate speech.  It feels right and fair.

But sometimes you do have to set some standards.  You do have to be unfair and say “it’s okay to have magicians at birthday parties but it’s not okay to have rabid raccoons.”   Instead of avoiding all judgments that one thing is better than another, we have to make them correctly.  Stop saying “no group is inferior” and get the courage to say “actually, some groups are inferior, such as goddamn Nazis.”

7. I believe that punching Nazis is not really an important discussion.  It’s mostly just tough guys on the Internet going on about how tough they’d hypothetically be.  Whatever.

Of course, I’ve also gotten in long discussions about whether Simba and Nala are related or what, so who am I to say we should only talk about important things?

8. I believe that punching Nazis is going pretty easy on them, considering.  I’m Jewish.  Part of my family is from Germany, part from Poland and Hungary.  One of my grandmothers had permanent eye and heart damage from untreated illness during the Holocaust.  She was also beaten, her father’s business destroyed, and her grandfather shot.  My grandfather’s brothers and sisters were all murdered, and we’re still not totally sure when or how, and will never even know where their remains are.  My other grandmother didn’t talk much about what happened to her during that time, but she was missing a fingernail.

And Tumblr wants to clutch their pearls about whether it’s okay to give these people a bruise?

My opinion of the moon signs
  • Aries: bro u get me. We both cry at least 28 times a day and lowkey hate having feelings. We can't stand showing people that we are actually big babies and we are too defensive but at LEAST WE GET EACH OTHER.
  • Taurus: ur always centered and calm and a lil bab but if you tell me I'm the only person you've told about something (that you've told everyone) one MORE TIME IM GOING TO SNAP.
  • Gemini: yes, I believe in aliens. No I don't think bigfoot has a vendetta against you. I don't get why you just told me your life story but your mother seems like a nice lady.
  • Cancer: you make me feel like a shitty person because I don't like feelings or being empathetic or putting effort towards other people. IT'S WHATEVER THO.
  • Leo: I see right thru you. I'm a Leo. I know why you are doing that. The Validations™. I know. It's me on the daily. You're doing good tho.
  • Virgo: IF YOU DO NOT CALM DOWN RIGHT NOW. They don't care that you said "you too" when they said "have a good meal". EVERY ONE DOES THAT. DONT WORRY ABOUT IT.
  • Libra: so hot. hot damg. Doesn't know how to pick movies or if they want a bottle or a can. Over compromising champion of the masses. Too nice to be mean to which is hard on me because I'm mean to those I love.
  • Scorpio: what you think you are- murder death fear me am evil. What u actually are- smol bean and afraid to be hurt again, does the same things that you did before that got u hurt in the first place though??
  • Sagittarius: NICE MAKING PLANS. #cancelled. ALWAYS. Also. Nice use of sarcasm to hide ur feels. JK IF YOU MAKE ONE MORE SARCASTIC REMARK ILL YELL. I'm already yelling tho...
  • Capricorn: emotional lil bab. Stop beating yourself up. Its okay to feel things and its okay to admit that you aren't having a good day. BUT IF YOU SASS ME ONE MORE TIME.
  • Aquarius: IF YOU DISTANCE URSELF ANYMORE YOULL BE ENTIRELY IN SPACE. I admire the fact that you can go a whole 24 hours (three years?!??) without crying. I can't achieve that but I have aspirations.
  • Pisces: S T R E S S. M E. O U T. if you do not like the choice. Why did you make it. You are the controller of ur own destiny. Ily but wyd.

anonymous asked:

ah okay can u do one where tyler is the reader's upstairs neighbor and he plays the piano every night and it puts the reader to sleep, but then one night he stops and the reader can't sleep so she goes up and knocks on his door??

TYLER JOSEPH IMAGINE

As soon as you sit down to eat, it starts.  But you planned it that way, so you smile to yourself.  You feel your entire body relax, as you inhale deeply, picking up your fork once your shoulders had fallen.  Your foot starts tapping as you try to follow the same rhythm as the keys playing above.

It’s a beautiful piece tonight. Yesterday was much faster and upbeat, but tonight it’s slow and almost sort of sad. You try to hum along.

You moved in about three months ago, your last place was just too far from your school, and it’s been incredible. You love it.   It’s a good size, rent is cheap, and there’s also your upstairs neighbor who, every night at 7:30, without falter or fail, plays the piano beautifully for hours until you’re in bed, the rhythmic melody helping you fall asleep.

You never really spent a lot of time thinking about who was playing upstairs.  Probably some old man or lady, you didn’t see how anyone below the age of 30 would have enough time to play a piano for hours on end.

That night, much like many others, you finished your dinner and fell asleep to the sound of your neighbor and their piano.

You can’t sleep, you’ve been tossing and turning since your head hit the pillow.  This was the fourth night the piano hadn’t been played.

You’d just gotten so accustomed to listening to the notes every evening, you didn’t realize how much you had grown to depend on it until now. You knew you were going to wake up exhausted and grouchy. This is all your neighbor’s fault.

It’s 7:34 PM on a Thursday night and you’ve found yourself standing in front of your upstairs neighbor’s door. You honestly didn’t know what you were going to say, but you were feeling reckless and impulsive after running on hardly any sleep this week.  Frankly, at this point, you didn’t really care. What’s the worst thing that could happen?

Before you knew it, you’re knocking on the door, eyes looking to the crack in the bottom of the door where you can see a small peak of a shadow.

“Who is it?” The person asks, his voice is muffled but it’s definitely a guy.

“Uh-your downstairs neighbor?” you try to say but it comes out as a question, this isn’t weird, right? Neighbors knock on their neighbors doors asking them to keep playing their piano, right? Right.

“Anne? Are you sick-Oh.” And what.

He’s not old, is the thing. The first thing you see is feet covered in speckled, gray socks, followed by black jeans, a hooded sweatshirt, and a hand holding a bitten slice of pizza with a bandage. Uhh—

“You’re not Anne.” The boy says, his voice light, yet raspy.

“Anne-um. Moved. Sorry, am I in the right place? 34 B?” you ask because this pretty brown eyed, soft haired, boy cannot possibly be the anonymous piano player.

“Yeah…Can I help you?…” He asks, his unoccupied hand coming to rest on the open door and holy shit you can see a glimpse of a grand piano right behind him in his living room. What the hell?

“Piano?” you stupidly say, like that makes any sense. The boy turns around to look at his instrument and looks back at you, eyebrows furrowed.

“What?” He asks, one of his eyebrows raising, expecting an answer. God, he’s gorgeous.

“You stopped playing— I used to hear you? Downstairs?” you say and this is why you need to figure out what the hell you’re doing before going and actually doing it.

“Oh my piano.. yeah, I’m kinda taking a break from playing, sorry if it’s annoying or whatever, but I pay extra for this place to let me to play—"

“No, no! I love it!” you say, almost desperately, “I just-“ you stop to bite your lip and think for a second, “this is weird, but—“ you stop before disclosing the fact that the man’s music helps you sleep. “I actually miss it,” you say instead.

“Oh!” he says, almost surprised, “my hand though… see?” The boy huffs out a laugh as he raises his right bandaged hand that’s holding the pizza.

“Is that from playing too much?” you ask.

“The cost of playing an instrument, you know? I’m Tyler.” He extends his good hand for a shake and you can’t believe this. The mysterious piano player is a young, hot dude. What?

“I’m Y/N!” you reply, shaking his hand.  You can’t help but notice how well your hands fit together so nicely.

“Y/N,” He starts, biting off a piece of pizza and continuing with his mouth full, “Do you want a slice of pizza?”

And, come on. It’s free pizza, You’re not going to say no.

You hit it off after that night. You kept having excuses to go back to see Tyler, the first time you brought Tyler a batch of your home made cookies, “a repayment for the pizza,” you had said and Tyler grinned and pulled you inside, grabbing two cups and filling them up with milk.

You learned more about Tyler every time you hung out, too. You found out Tyler is hilarious, he’s also sarcastic, he’s only been playing the piano since he was nineteen and has a band with his friend. That one you couldn’t believe at first, the way Tyler had said it so casually was surprising.  

The next time you’re knocking, there seems to be a lot of commotion going on in Tyler’s apartment.  But he answers, nonetheless.

“Y/N!” he greets with a smile.  

“Hey,” you say, apprehensively.  You hear the voices of at least two or three other people in the apartment.  

“I just thought I’d say hi— didn’t know you had people over-“

“No, no, no! Come in! Meet my friends!” he says, opening the way for you to walk inside.  

You’re uncomfortable.

The thing is; you don’t do this kinda thing very often. Your only friend is a girl from school, but even then, you only hang out at school.

When you entered Tyler’s apartment, you see three other guys standing around.  

“Y/N, this is Mark,” he points to a sandy-haired boy with a goofy grin, “Michael,” there’s a buff man holding a beer, “and Josh,” the yellow hair and bright smile gave away his identity as the other half to Tyler’s band.

You smile nervously and wave, feeling awkward just standing around. But soon after introductions, they carry on with whatever video game they were playing.  

“Come on in, Y/N. Don’t be shy!” Tyler says softly. He goes and sits on the soft, patting on the spot next to him. “Come sit, there’s enough space!”

There isn’t space enough. Well, not really at least. The sofa is more of a love-seat, and you end up pressed right against Tyler. He doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest, and when he casually  throws his arm around your waist after a few minutes, you start to relax.

It ends up being a really good night. You try a few rounds of Mario-Cart but stop, because you end up being so horrible. You don’t mind though.  You’re perfectly content with just watching the other guys play while you’re cuddled close to Tyler. You can’t really remember the last time you’ve had so much fun. They’re all constantly making jokes and telling stories and laughing, and you feel so carefree, almost like you’re floating.

At some point, you must have fallen asleep, cause when you open your eyes, it’s to Tyler slowly caressing your cheek. “Wakey, wakey,” he says softly with a chuckle.

You slowly blink and then move to sit up straight. “Oh,” you say, slightly dazed. “Did I fall asleep?”

Tyler nods. “Yeah, about an hour ago. The guys just left though, so I figured it was about time I woke you up. I’m sorry though.. You looked really peaceful, sleeping.”

You look at how your legs are strangling Tyler’s and notice how you’re perfectly curled into his side. You blush, but are too sleepy to be embarrassed about it. “’m sorry,” you mumble. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep on you. I’ll- uh..” you yawn. “I’ll go home then.”

Tyler smiles. “I didn’t mind. It was quite comfy, actually.  Come on,” he says. “I’ll walk you out.”

You make your way to the front door. When Tyler opens the door, you turn around to thank him.

“Thank you for letting me hang out. And like, letting me sleep on you, I guess. I had a really good night,” you say, still slightly blushing.

Tyler either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care about embarrassment. “No problem. I had a really good night too.” He bites his lip and then raises his hand to touch yours. It’s a light brush, but you feel sparks of electricity spike through you.

You’re about to start nodding, when Tyler leans forward and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “See you soon?”

You’re baffled, but somehow you manages to mutter out a “yes” before walking away.

Later, when you’re alone in your own bed, you replay the kiss in your head so many times you start getting dizzy. And yes, you think, you could totally get used to this.

The next day, Tyler’s the one knocking on your door.  You’re surprised, but even more so when he asks you out for coffee with him.  

After ten minutes of scrambling around looking for shoes and your wallet, you’re out the door, heading down the street.  There’s a cozy cafe on the corner and Tyler holds the door for you.  You let out a sigh of relief after getting shelter from the cold.

You sit in a small booth near the front window and cradle your cup of hot chocolate between your fingers as you watch people walk by.

Tyler makes sure to keep the conversation going, and there’s never really a dull moment.

You’re laughing loudly when Tyler reaches out at your face. You freeze in your seat as you feel his thumb sweep softly over your lip.

Tyler smiles and pulls his hand back. “You had a little chocolate-moustache, sorry.”

You smile back, but look down, blushing hard.

Tyler takes a breath. “Okay, look at me for a second please.”

You raise your head and carefully stare at Tyler, trying not to get lost in his breathtaking brown eyes.

“I like you,” Tyler then says.

Your breath hitches in your throat and your hands freeze where they’re laying near Tyler’s. “You…” you mumble, but it sounds more like a question.

Tyler’s eyebrows climb high on his forehead. “Like you, yes.” He says, nodding in affirmation, eyes widened with anticipation.

Tyler smiles again, “Man, I thought I was being obvious. I like you, and I’m not afraid to admit that to anyone.” He laughed softly. “I’m sorry for springing this on you like this, because I have no idea how you even feel about me, but-“

You interrupt him, “Seriously?” The surprise is clear in your eyes. “I have a huge crush, I mean the size of Everest on you, Tyler.”

For the first time that day, Tyler seems taken back a bit. “Well, I mean- I guess I didn’t want to assume anything?”

You laugh, “Can I tell you something?” you ask, fixing your eyes back on Tyler.

He nods carefully.

“Your piano playing helps me sleep,” you sigh, “I used to curl up in bed and listen every night, it soothed me.  When you stopped, I couldn’t fall asleep, I just tossed and turned.  That’s why I came up that night— to see why you stopped.”

Tyler just stared at you with a fond look on his face. “It put you to sleep?” He says smiling.

You’re suddenly hit by a wave of shyness, “Yeah…” you mumble, it sounded stupid.  

“Y/N?” Tyler says softly, and you look up at him again. “Can I kiss you?” he continues, voice barely more than a whisper.

Your heart stops for a second, before you slowly nod. “Honestly? I’d be really disappointed if you didn’t.”

Tyler leans forward and softly presses your lips together. He tastes like mocha and every wonderful thing in the world, and you think that this is probably the best first kiss someone could ever have.

Later that night you’re curled up into Tyler’s side, listening to the rise and fall of his chest.  You sigh in frustration, finding that you, once again, cannot sleep.

“I really wish your hand wasn’t hurt— then you could play for me,” you pout, poking your lip out and looking up at him.

He chuckles, giving you a small squeeze before disclosing, “You know I can sing, right?”

You furrow your eyebrows, racking your brain for the conversation where he told you that… But you can’t recall.  You would’ve remembered.  You would’ve made him demonstrate.

“You never told me that—“

“Would you like me to sing to you?  Then maybe you could fall asleep?”

You nod into his chest, burying your face into the fabric of his shirt before saying, “Yes, please.”

Tyler clears his throat lightly before starting to sing— and it’s beautiful.  At first, your chest fills up with so much admiration for Tyler that sleep is the last thing on your mind.  But he continues and his soft tune mixed with the feeling of his hand running up and down your back softly, has you calming down.  Your eyes soon grow heavy and after only a couple of verses, you’ve drifted off into a deep, sleep.  

anonymous asked:

#42 isak and even ??

42) things you said when you asked me to marry you (this was requested by three people so i figured y’all really want this. it’s okay - i wanted it too.)

Isak’s still rubbing the sleep from his eyes when he enters the kitchen to Even making breakfast. He’s gotten years to drink in this sight on both the good days and the bad days, but the revelation that Even’s here, for him, is still enough to knock the wind out of Isak. It’s been so long, but Isak will always be that insecure boy in the kitchen of his old apartment, wondering if he’d dreamt up a world where someone as beautiful as Even would stay with him when the morning came.

“What are you doing over there?” Even says. He glances up from the eggs to beam at Isak. “I woke up extra early on our anniversary to make you breakfast, and I don’t even get a cuddle for it?”

“We could’ve cuddled in bed,” Isak grumbles, but he dutifully makes his way over to Even, wraps his arms around his waist and presses his nose against Even’s back. He breathes in, and Even’s familiar scent calms down the flutters in his stomach. “Seven years, baby,” he whispers.

“Feels like longer,” Even says.

“Yeah,” Isak says, but he’s been saying this as soon as he met Even, hadn’t he? Falling in love with Even had been like discovering something new and familiar all at once, and even though they’ve only officially been living together for three years, Isak can’t remember a time when he didn’t come home to Even. They’ve weathered storms, fought and broke and healed, but in the end, this is where he belongs, holding Even safe in his arms.

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You’re a Freaking Badass

Summary: The reader comes back from her friend’s wedding annoyed as all gets out because people don’t know how to mind their own business and Dean helps her calm down and remember that those people and their opinions don’t matter.

Word Count: 1189

Warnings: Mentions of weddings

A/N: I usually don’t write about specific events in my life, but dammit I just really needed to vent, and I also need Dean Winchester to comfort me, so here y’all go. Weddings suck. (And weddings in your hometown with all those people you grew up with and all of your parents’ friends suck even worse)


Dean looked up from the video he had been watching when the front door of the bunker opened. Y/N came in, her shoes dangling from her fingers and her hair a tangled mess from driving with the windows down.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Dean greeted. “How was the… reception…?”

When she walked by him without so much as a nod, he trailed off and furrowed his brow while watching her stalk towards her room. Well, something had happened at her friend’s wedding reception and there was no way Dean was about to let her fester away in whatever negative emotion was coursing through her body. So he shut his laptop and strolled after her.

“What’s up, Y/N?” asked Dean when he leaned up against the door jamb. She was angrily trying to unzip her dress, but was having no luck.

Finally she huffed in defeat and turned her back to him. “A little help?”

Well, Dean knew better than to get on her bad side when she was in a mood. So he quickly helped her unzip before walking over to her bed while she undressed and pulled on her sweats and an oversized tee.

As soon as she was dressed down, she whirled around and pointed an accusing finger at Dean. “You! Are not allowed to get married for at least a year.”

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Preference: You Can't Sleep

Ashton: Hearing footsteps softly coming towards the kitchen, you sigh. You hadn’t meant to wake him up, really. A very sleepy looking Ashton leans against the kitchen doorframe, frowning when he sees you. “Can’t sleep again?” He asks, yawning a little. “Go back to bed, I’ll be okay.” He shakes his head. “Baby, you need to see a doctor or something. This is like, the fourth night you’ve had trouble sleeping.” He pauses, then his eyes widen. “Is it… is it me?” He asks. “What? No, Ash, it’s not you. I just can’t fall asleep.” You assure him, walking over. He pulls you into a light hug, resting his forehead against your own. “Then what? Tell me, so I can help.” You sigh. “There’s honestly nothing wrong.” You say. Ashton walks over and starts to make coffee. “What are you doing?” You ask. “If you can’t sleep, I’ll stay awake with you until you can.” You smile a little. “Ashton, go back to bed. You’re tired.” Ashton frowns again. “Yeah, but I can’t sleep if you’re not there. The bed gets cold.” He says. You walk over and wrap your arms around him. “How about we just go cuddle?” He thinks about this for a moment, then shakes his head. “How about we go watch movies and cuddle until you fall asleep?” You sigh, feeling blessed to have such a man in your life. “I’m sorry, I know this is getting annoying.” Ashton takes his face in your hands. “Baby, no! It’s not annoying. It’s just more time I get to spend with you.” He murmurs, kissing your nose. “Yeah, but less time you get to sleep.” Ashton shrugs, pulling you into the living room while asking, “who needs sleep, anyway?”

Calum: You roll over for what seems like the millionth time. Calum sighs, sitting up. “Babe, what’s wrong?” He asks. You sit up and turn on the bedside lamp. “I don’t know. I just can’t sleep.” He frowns, moving some hair away from your face. “Want me to sing to you?” He asks. You nod, curling into his side as he sings a soft tune. “Anything?” He asks when the song is over. You groan and shake your head. “You should go back to sleep. You need it.” You tell him, biting your lip. “I’m not going to sleep when my girl isn’t.” He says stubbornly, but a yawn slips out. You smirk and he chuckles. “Okay, I’m tired. So what?” You roll your eyes. “So, I’m not going to be like Michael and force you to stay awake. Sleep, babe.” You say, reaching over to turn out the light. “Is there anything that’s bothering you? Maybe you just need to talk about it.” Calum says, pulling you into a spooning position. “No, not that I can think of. You’re home, the boys are home. Everything is perfect.” Calum runs his fingertips over your stomach lightly, making you shiver. “What about the hate? Have you been reading it lately?” You shake your head. “Not since the last time you told me not to.” Calum frowns, not being able to figure out what’s wrong with the love of his life. Then it hits him. “Babe?” He asks. “Yes, Cal?” You reply. “When is the last time we… you know?” He asks, chuckling. You roll over onto your back. “It’s been awhile, I guess. Why?” You ask, watching as he gets up and walks to the end of the bed. He grabs your ankles and pulls you until your cute plaid pajama shorts meet his eyes up close. “Calum, what are you doing? The boys are downstairs sleeping. They could hear us.” You protest, but he yanks off your shorts and underwear. “I don’t give a fuck who hears. I’m taking the edge off so my baby girl can sleep. I’m going to fuck you so good until you’re too tired to fuck anymore.”

Luke: Staying in multiple hotel rooms had its benefits, but it also had its problems. Problem number one being that eventually, they all just began to feel like home. So when you and Luke actually did come home from tour, sleeping in your own bed was very difficult for you. Even with Luke by your side every night, the bed just didn’t feel like home anymore. And this night was no different. You get out of bed and walk to the bathroom, hoping you won’t wake Luke up. You splash water on your face, and when you look up, Luke is standing behind you. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.” You mumble, turning to face him. “You know, splashing water on your face is just going to make falling asleep harder.” Luke tells you. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. This bed used to be my everything, second to you. And now I can’t even sleep on it.” You complain, crossing the short distance between the two of you and hugging him. “Princess, nothing’s wrong with you. You’ve just been staying in so many hotels that you forgot what your own bed feels like. C'mon, I’ll help you.” Luke pulls you back into bed and pulls you into his side, holding you close. “You know what I really want right now?” You ask. “What’s that, princess?” You look up at him. “That bed on that hotel room we stayed at in Italy. The one that had the purple pillows? Oh, I loved that bed.” You say softly. “That bed had some pretty nice things happen on it.” Luke mutters, smirking as he remembers the night involving whipped cream and strawberries. You giggle. He rubs your back lightly until you fall asleep, but that doesn’t happen for another few hours. The next day, when you come back from visiting friends, the bed from the hotel room in Italy is in your bedroom.

Michael: While Michael has been known to have some insomnia, you did not. You could sleep all day, every day. Or at least, you used to be able to sleep all day, every day. For some reason, that all changed one night. You just couldn’t fall asleep. You tried sleeping in bed and on the living room couch, but nothing helped. And unfortunately, Michael had cured his insomnia when the band went on a break. Well, that’s not unfortunate. That’s a great thing. But for you, it was unfortunate because that meant while he was asleep, you were wide awake. The roles had been reversed. You look over at your sleeping boyfriend, hearing his light snores fill the silence of your bedroom. You bite your lip and tap his cheek lightly. “Mike, wake up.” After repeating this a few times, the bleached blonde’s eyes flutter open. “What? What’s the matter, kitten?” He asks urgently. “Nothing. I just… I can’t fall asleep.” He props himself up with his hand. “Wanna talk about anything that bothered you today?” He asks. “See, that’s the thing. It isn’t just tonight. I haven’t been sleeping for weeks.” You confess. “Kitten, why didn’t you tell me?” He reaches over and strokes your cheek gently. “You were sleeping great. I didn’t want to ruin that.” Michael frowns. “You wouldn’t have ruined it. But you should have told me, I could’ve helped sooner.” He says. You nod. He sings to you softly for a few hours until your asleep. The next morning, Michael goes to the store and buys everything that’s related to helping a person sleep better just for you.

Sharing A Tent With Murphy

Pairing: John Murphy X Reader
Requested: no
Warnings: some mild cursing, and sexual references
A/N: I’ve had the idea for this bouncing around my head for awhile, and finally decided to put it down on paper. This is my first time writing about anything other than 5sos, so feedback would be greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading, and I hope you like it!
Word count: 1479

————————————————

“What do you mean I don’t have a tent anymore?” Murphy exclaims angrily at Bellamy.

You were helping Clarke and Octavia tend to the sick after Murphy had brought an infection back to camp. Your father had been a doctor on the ark, and you were following in his footsteps until you had been arrested. You were caught stealing medicine for a little girl, but you don’t regret it since she got to live because of your actions.

“We needed the extra supplies and since you were banished, we weren’t going to let them go to waste,” Bellamy explains to him using his ‘I’m the boss’ tone. Sighing, Murphy looks down at the ground and runs a hand through his dirty hair.

“Fine, but where am I going to sleep now?”

“You’ll have to share with someone.”

Murphy laughs grimly, “And who would that be?” He sneers. He knew no one would want to share with him, everyone despises him. Bellamy looks around the drop ship until his gaze lands on you; your eyes lock together. You know what is about to happen; you were credited with being the nicest delinquent around.

“Y/N,” Bellamy yells over to you, “come over here, I need to ask you something.”

You place the medical supplies you had been sorting down. Rising from your kneeling position you walk towards the pair. You look at Murphy, and take in his appearance: his clothes are torn, stained with dried blood, and dirt is caked onto his pale skin, a sharp contrast. Murphy’s wounds still haven’t been cleaned, you realize.

“What’s up?” You question Bellamy, raising one eyebrow.

“Murphy is going to be sleeping in your tent, with you, until further notice.”

“What? My tent barely has enough room for me, let alone both of us,” you protest crossing your arms over your chest and jutting your hip out.

“I guess you’ll have to make it work.” Bellamy walks off, leaving no room for discussion. Sighing, you turn towards Murphy, who had been watching the ordeal with a bored expression.

“Well, come on then.” You motion for him to follow you as you lead the way to your tent. As the two of you make your way towards your tent you can hear people whispering, all of which concern the boy that is trailing after you. Murphy is playing strong though, keeping his head up high and facial expression locked into a firm glare straight ahead. One of the comments catches your attention, it’s louder than the others, the person obviously didn’t care if anyone heard them.

The boy had said, “She better be careful, or next thing you know she’ll be murdered by that psychopath.” You whip your head around without even thinking.

“Who the hell do you think you are? Last I checked, Murphy was the one helping the sick, sure he got them infected, but they’re the ones who hanged and banished him. Where were you? Out hiding away and doing nothing to help the camp? Yeah, that’s what I thought. So shut your damn mouth and do something useful with your pathetic life.”

With that, you grab Murphy’s hand and hurriedly drag him away. Unzipping the flap, you go inside and quickly tidy up the few things you have. Turning, you see Murphy shifting on his feet, unsure of what to do. You nod your head towards the bed, silently telling him to sit down. He follows your noiseless command, sitting on the edge of your makeshift bed of old blankets and animal pelts. Finally, you take in his appearance again, his face is dirty, clothes torn. Decidedly, you stand up and make your way to the exit of the small enclosure. Murphy’s head shoots up, you hold out your hand in a stop motion, telling him to stay put.

You walk towards the small tent next to the drop ship that houses whatever medical supplies people had been able to scrounge up. Entering, you head straight for the table that holds bowls of moonshine, then bandages, and finally a bucket that had been collecting water outside of the door. Once you situate the items in your arms you make your way back to the place you’ve started calling your home. All eyes were on you. No one had ever seen you snap like that, you were generally a nice level headed person.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” you told one group that was openly staring at you.

Slipping back into your tent you saw Murphy in the same position you left him in, staring intently at his hands. You place the bucket of water besides you as you kneel in front of him in between his knees. Gently you take his left hand in yours. After dunking a piece of cloth in the water you start to clean off his hand. Looking up at him once you shift to a moonshine soaked rag, you softly speak, “This is going to hurt.”

He met your eyes, only giving you a brief nod to acknowledge your words. As you dab at the wounds on his hand, an audible breath in and wince was the only reaction he let you see. You move from one hand to the other, repeating the process. When both hands were clean you stilled.

“Take off your shirt,” you demand in a firm tone.

“So, this is why you’re letting me stay in your tent, you’re trying to get into my pants. Y'know all you had to do was ask, right?” A smirk spread across his face.

“Trust me Murphy, if I wanted to, you’d be naked and begging by now.”

“Is that so?”

“You know it.”

“Then prove it.”

“No. You’re injured and I’m not really into the dirt and blood covered look. Now, take off your shirt.”

Giving you a, dare you say, playful glare he pulls his shirt over his head. You can’t contain the gasp that slips past your lips. His chest is covered in long, angry gashes. You put a hand on his shoulder, pushing him down so he’s on his back looking up at you. Shifting your position, you now sit near his waist, you’ll have to lean over him to reach the top of his chest. You start cleaning him from his collar bones down to his hips, trying to ignore his tensing abs. Blushing you reach the top of his pants and glance up at him. You know the next thing out of your mouth is going to be incredibly embarrassing to ask.

“I-is there, uh, anything else, I, um, need to clean?” You awkwardly ask, looking anywhere but his eyes.

“No, but there is something you can suck,” he says, his signature smirk placing itself back onto his lips.

“Only in your dreams,” you retort after quickly composing yourself, and rolling your eyes. You grab his shirt from where it had been carelessly dumped on the ground. He takes it from your outstretched hand, then lets it fall back to the ground next to the bed. All you can do is give him an exasperated look.

“Sorry doll, I sleep shirtless and it’s time for some shut-eye,” he places his arms under his head, muscles flexing as he does so. You hadn’t even realized the sun had set while you had been intently cleaning Murphy up. You also hadn’t realized how tired you were, once your muscles had stopped their task they felt heavy and sore. It had become a familiar feeling at the end of the day after working long hours healing the impulsive delinquents.

“And what makes you think you’re getting the bed?” You place a hand on your hip, head tilting to the side.

“C'mon, I’m injured.” His lips form a mock pout, matching the sarcastic glint in his eyes.

Sighing you tell him, “Fine scoot over,” while climbing up from where you were leaning back on your legs by his legs. You situate yourself under the covers Murphy had been pulling out from underneath him.

“Just a warning, I’m a sleep cuddler.” You turn your body, facing away from the boy, onto your side.

“Trust me, I don’t have a problem having you closer,” you hear him whisper right before you drift off to sleep. Making you question if he had really said that.

You woke up the next morning with a warm body pressed against your back, and a hand resting on your boob. For a second you relish in the warmth the body provides, before realizing who it was holding you. Struggling to move away from the embrace, the hands around you tighten. Wiggling for awhile longer with no use, you slump against him, giving up on getting away. Lightly you feel the all-too-familiar smirk of John Murphy press against the back of your neck. That asshole was awake.

“Murphy, if you don’t get your hand off my boob, I’m going to castrate you,” the threat came out of your mouth in a low growl.

anonymous asked:

Hey! I was wondering if you could write Rfa + V + Saeran reacting to a very quiet and shy MC, like they actually have to check she's still alive bc they can't hear her or they have to make sure she's not mad at them bc she stopped talking to them thanks xx

Hey anon! That’s my first request omg i hope i don’t screw up too badly

Anyway, hope you enjoy!


Yoosung

  • though he’s quite a talker, he’s also a little shy so he understands
  • sometimes, however, he just forgets MC is that quiet
  • they’re both in the kitchen and MC is making dinner
  • no one is talking
  • and then it happens
  • “MC what did I do?
  • “MC why are you mad at me?”
  • “MC please answer”
  • poor boy is already trying to find a way to make her forgive him
  • bUT WHAT IF SHE WANTS TO BREAK UP WITH HIM
  • OMG POOR THING
  • “Yoosung I’m not mad at you”
  • “Yes you are. Is it because of LOLOL?”
  • and then MC laughs because he’s such a cute little dork
  • “I’m not mad at you, love”
  • “Okay, but if you were… you’d tell me, right?”

Zen

  • okay well
  • Zen’s job requires him to be as talkative and sociable as possible
  • and MC is the exact opposite of that
  • so this one night they’re at a party
  • there’s a lot of people, everyone seems to be enjoying it
  • Zen is talking with some coworkers showing off a little
  • but MC is nowhere to be found
  • and then he sees her, near the buffet, all alone
  • “MC are you okay?”
  • “Yeah, I’m fine”
  • “Are you enjoying the party?”
  • “Not really”
  • wow so straightforward
  • “Do you wanna leave?”
  • “Yes please, I’m really unconfortable”
  • and so they go home
  • and he really wants to make it up to her for making her feel unconfortable
  • it’s not your fault Zen
  • but you can guess what happens next 

Jumin

  • just like Zen, his job requires him to be as sociable as possible
  • and of course MC is not
  • so whenever they go somewhere for his job, like a party or a dinner or anything else
  • MC literally spends all the time by his side
  • stuck like glue
  • nodding in agreement whenever he’s talking
  • he honestly can’t be alone, not even for a second
  • “MC I just need to use the bathroom”
  • “I’ll keep you company”
  • Jesus MC
  • luckily for her, though, he doesn’t really mind
  • but when they’re home, he’s very quiet himself
  • most of the time MC is the one checking on him
  • “You okay?”
  • “Are you alive”
  • “Are you mad at me?”
  • no MC he’s not mad at you

Jaehee

  • she l o v e s it
  • quiet MC = peace at home
  • and boy, does she need some peace
  • she does really like small talks though
  • so when MC doesn’t answer properly she gets kind of annoyed
  • but MC is quite quick to notice and tries her best to make Jaehee happy
  • and she makes it!
  • Jaehee knows how shy MC actually is
  • and she tries not to embarass her too much
  • or make her feel unconfortable
  • she’s just really nice and sympathetic

707/Saeyoung

  • this boy is a fucking tease
  • MC is hella shy? BETTER EMBARASS HER
  • MC doesn’t like talking in front of many people? MC, GIVE US A SPEECH
  • MC is mad at him because of that?
  • oh shit MC is mad at him
  • “MC I’m sorry”
  • “MC I didn’t want to hurt you”
  • “MC please forgive me I’m an idiot”
  • yes you are
  • and of course MC forgives him
  • one day though
  • he was deep into some hacking stuff
  • and MC was in the living room, minding her own business
  • it might have been five or six hours, and he didn’t hear her at all, not even for a secon
  • and boy was he worried
  • he came running in the living room
  • “MC ARE YOU OKAY?”
  • “MC PLEASE TELL ME YOU’RE OKAY”
  • “MC ANSWER”
  • “I’m okay you dumbass”
  • “Okay, just checking”
  • you were worried sick, just admit it

V

  • okay, let’s say it: he’s blind
  • he can’t really see MC, so hearing her voice would be kinda nice
  • except for the fact that MC is a little too quiet and does not talk often
  • she answer whenever he’s talking, of course
  • but doesn’t really like it
  • but V is just so in love with her voice
  • so he asks her to read something for him
  • and she agrees
  • honestly, who wouldn’t?
  • they’re both on the couch, V’s head resting on MC lap while she pets his hair
  • she’s reading some poetry out loud
  • he loves it
  • V once asked her to be his model, back when his sight wasn’t this bad
  • her face suddenly became bright red
  • “Do I have to?”
  • “Only if you want to”
  • “You’re not going to show this photos around, are you?”
  • MC he didn’t ask you to pose naked
  • i guess
  • “I’m not”
  • “Okay then”

Saeran

  • he’s not much of a talker himself, so that doesn’t really bother him
  • he does really enjoy spending time with MC without talking
  • just being by her side, maybe cuddling somewhere
  • on the bed, on the couch, wherever
  • oh god he loves to cuddle so very much
  • he’s perfectly fine with MC being shy as well of course
  • however he loves when MC is a little embarassed
  • her face is red, she’s stuttering and suddenly looking away and that’s just too cute to handle
  • so he tries to embarass her as often as possible
  • and MC actually never gets mad at him
  • she can’t
  • he’s just too cute
{ you just can't stay mad at those eyes | eren x reader }

Prompt: “i know i requested levi x reader smut one shot but can i pretty please with sugar and cherries on top double request and ask for a super fluffy eren x reader one shot bc the green eyed hot head needs love too 😍💖”
A/N: There are actually two versions of this. This one is the fluffy one. I hope you enjoy. ❤️
Word count: 537

Originally posted by oblivion-is-all-you-crave

“Are you really doing this right now?” Eren asked as he stood in front of you attempting to block you from walking away. You just stared stoically at his face and brushed your way past him heading to the girl’s dormitory.

“Come on, can I at least know what I did?” Eren pleaded following close behind you. You continued to ignore him and be on your merry way. You fought every urge to turn around and sock him right in the jaw.

There was actually one good fuckin’ reason why you were giving him the silent treatment. It was one of those rare days when everyone had a “day off” and Eren had made plans with you to spend some quality time together. It would have been nice to just get away for a few hours and worry about nothing but the moment alone with him, but he completely blew you off. The thing that really pissed you off was that HE made the plans and he forgot.

He left you waiting for hours waiting for him to show up at you guys’ favorite spot, a small garden, but he never did leaving you both in the situation you’re in now.

In what felt like one swift movement, Eren had pinned you to the nearest wall. Both of his arms on either side of you making you unable to move. His blueish eyes were fixed on you as you looked up at him with a cold emotionless stare. You crossed your arms and Eren noticed your favorite flower in your hair.

A sudden look of realization appeared on his face promptly followed by a look of immense sorrow.

“(Name)… I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you. I was so caught up with-” By this time you had already muted out his excuses and he noticed because you had broken the eye contact you two had held.
“Please don’t shut me out.” Eren took his hand and gently put it to your chin making you look at him.

Looking into his eyes you somehow saw that he was truly sorry. You didn’t know if you could keep this game up for much longer. You couldn’t stand being mad at him because honestly who could resist him. Eren saw your face had softened from its stoic form it had previously had.

“Forgive me?” Eren said giving you a goofy smile. You couldn’t help but to crack a small smile at your boyfriend’s goofiness.
“You’re a dork.” You said as you rolled your eyes playfully. Eren quickly kissed your lips.
“But I’m your dork.” Eren said as he grabbed your hand leading you somewhere.
“Where are you taking me?” You asked suspiciously but still following him nonetheless.
“On that date. The night is still young.” He said cheerfully. God you loved him.

anonymous asked:

Hello! This is your online course adviser. It's been brought to my attention that you've suffered a recent lapse in self-control, due to pictures being circulated of certain TV characters. This has prompted cause for concern with regards to your being able to concentrate for long periods, without interruption, skills necessary for completing coursework. So we propose to test your commitment by asking you to complete a drabble of 500 words or less, using the prompt "I Can't Concentrate......."

@ladymatt This is BEYOND brilliant. My wine addled brain thought that my adviser found my blog somehow. Then I laughed my ass off. How about 700 words? Because I have no chill, and this was super easy.


“I can’t concentrate,” Alec said, dropping his phone on his desk and rubbing his hands through his hair. He picked up the next file from the towering pile.

Izzy grinned. “Tell Magnus to stop texting you. He’s got it so bad, I swear. You’ve only been at work a few hours.”

“Maybe it’s not Magnus.”

“It is. I can tell by that stupid smile that breaks out on your face every time your phone makes a sound.”

His phone buzzed from his desk, and Alec picked it up again, swiping the screen to see a picture of Magnus with a cup of coffee and bed head.

Coffee doesn’t taste the same when you aren’t here :(

Alec smiled and ignored Izzy’s laugh.

That’s because I make better coffee than you.

The reply was instant.

No. It’s because the view is better when you are home <3

Alec’s smile grew wider.

His sister cleared her throat, and he looked up at her while pressing the button to silence his phone.

“He’s sexting you, isn’t he?” she asked mischievously.

“I’m sorry, what?!” Alec said pulling his eyebrows together in confusion.

“Sexting. Don’t act like he’s not.”

“First of all, I have no idea what that is. Second of all, no.”

“Oh, come on! Don’t try to tell me you are dating Magnus Bane and you don’t know about sexting. I don’t believe you.”

Alec just stared back at her, his face a blank mask.

She scoffed, “Oh my god. Naked pictures. Dirty talk. You know…sex via texting.”

Okay, that definitely sounded like something he needed in his life, but he wasn’t going to admit that to his sister. Also, that was the dumbest name ever, so he was definitely not using that word, even if he did the thing.

“How do you ever get any work done, Izzy? Seriously. He just woke up. He was saying good morning….with his clothes on. Now get out of my office please.”

“Surrrre, I believe you,” she said with a wink and then sauntered out of his office, shutting the door behind her.

The moment she was gone he opened up his message thread and texted Magnus back.

My view is better when I’m there too.

He didn’t even bother putting his phone down this time. Truth was, he’d woken up late and left in a hurry, and he and Magnus didn’t get to start their morning off in their usual way, so he was definitely distracted. Then his sister had to go and put thoughts in his head of naked pictures of Magnus. That didn’t help his focus any.

Another message popped up.

Why did I just get a text from Isabelle telling me to stop “sexting” you so that you can get your work done?

Alec’s eyes got huge. Damnit Izzy.

Ignore her. Sorry.

He cringed and waited for a reply.

:( So you are opposed to the idea? Because my morning wasn’t as nice as it usually is. My handsome head took his HEAD to work.

Alec thanked the angel that Magnus couldn’t see his blush. He summoned up some bravery and typed.

I didn’t say I was opposed to it.

He watched the little text bubbles anxiously.

Are you alone in your office right now?

Alec’s heart started pounding faster as he replied.

Yes. As a matter of fact I am.

Magnus replied.

Good. Lock your door, now.

He jumped up and went to the door. He wasn’t sure why he would need to lock his door for texting, but he rarely hesitated when Magnus asked him to do something. Just as he was turning back around, a portal opened in his office and his boyfriend stepped out of it. Completely naked.

Alec stuttered over his words and nearly choked on his own tongue.

“Hi darling,” Magnus said, stalking toward him.

“Hi,” Alec said, breathlessly. “I thought you were going to text me.”

“Oh well, why would I settle for that when I can magically appear in your office?”

“Naked,” Alec said, looking him up and down before reaching out to pull him in.

“Perks of dating a warlock,” Magnus said, leaning in to kiss him.

“I love these perks. Way better than that other thing,” he replied, before kissing his love thoroughly.

i just wanna talk about that lance and allura moment near the end of the season finale because it’s making me very emotional. (quick disclaimer: these are just my thoughts/interpretations immediately after watching the scene. i haven’t watched anything past this scene yet and will still not be done with season 4 at the end of this ramble. also, i’ve been awake for 28 hours and have a head cold so if my sentences don’t make sense at any point, that’s why. last thing! i haven’t read anyone else’s thoughts or commentary on this scene so idk if anything is similar to a more popular analysis/word vomit.) now onto the rambling!

lance had realized that allura’s magical abilities could get them out of naxzela and its strong gravitational pull. none of them, not even allura, knew how she could use her magic to save the balmera or power the castle, but lance just believed in her and her abilities. and that’s all either of them needed.

lance’s belief and trust in allura was all he needed to convince her that she could save them. that trust and belief in turn made allura more confident in herself. as the audience, we know that lance struggles with his place on team voltron, so he draws from his own experience to further reassure allura and build up her confidence:

both lance and allura experienced the same doubts and insecurities being rejected by the lions they wanted to pilot (red for allura and black, then later blue, for lance). they were switched around from the roles they wanted to be in to the ones they were less inclined to take up. but they both had to learn that these lions chose them for a reason. there’s more to those reasons of course (which is an analysis for another day), but lance’s little monologue/pep talk sums them up nicely in allura’s case:

he’s so confident in her and gives her “proof” that this is what she is meant to be doing. her untrained magic is one thing, but lance convinces her she can use it now to save them because she was chosen. allura is the heart of voltron because she brought the team together and shared every moment of the fight against zarkon with them. and maybe lance says what he does with such conviction to persuade allura’s magic to “awaken” out of a sense of purpose rather than just “we need it right now so use it”. but, he knows that forcing it won’t do any good and he genuinely does believe allura is the heart of voltron, or he wouldn’t say it was all her:

this is the part where i get even more emotional because they’re both validating each other here and they both need the validation. allura validates lance by showing her gratitude to him; she couldn’t have done it without him. while lance wants her to know that she has always had the power in her and didn’t necessarily need his help. they both respect each other as equals and i just really love that this scene emphasizes their mutual respect

Okay it’s been like five hours and I can’t stop thinking about this.

Imagine Jace, Clary, Isabelle and Alec sitting around Magnus’ living room trying to convince Simon that Santa Claus real and that he’s a really reclusive Warlock. It’s bullshit of course and Simon is really sceptical at first, but the more straight-faced arguments they make (“No he’s not actually supposed to be a Christmas thing, that just seems to be his gig now.”; “He only did the presents thing one year after losing a bet and it’s kind of stuck with him.”), the more he’s convinced.  

Magnus comes back into the living room after taking a call or something and asks what he’s missed.

“Well you know that moment in every Shadoworlder’s life where they find out Santa is real after all?” says Isabelle gleefully, raising her eyebrows to let Magnus in on the joke. “Simon is having his.”

“Ah, Old Nick?” grins Magnus, perching on the armrest of Alec’s chair. “Really nice guy, great with kids. Pity I couldn’t get around the stocking fetish.”

Alec nearly chokes on his drink and when the room can’t hold back their laughter anymore, Simon realises that they’ve been messing with him the whole time.

“Fucking Shadowhunters,” he mutters, an embarrassed grin on his face.

Just as Alec braves taking another sip of his drink, Magnus leans closer to Alec and whispers, “…is definitely a lot more fun than fucking Santa.”

Dresden Files Books Rated By The Opening Line
  • Storm Front: "I heard the mailman approach my office door, half an hour earlier than usual. He didn't sound right. His footsteps fell more heavily, jauntily, and he whistled. A new guy. He whistled his way to my office door, then fell silent for a moment. Then he laughed."
  • Easily one of the weakest in the series. 3/10.
  • Fool Moon: "I never used to keep close track of the phases of the moon. So I didn't know that it was one night shy of being full when a young woman sat down across from me in McAnally's pub and asked me to tell her all about something that could get her killed."
  • Nicely ominous. Thanks to this book, I also keep track of the phases of the moon. Helped me catch a local werewombat. You have no idea how hard it is to put one of them down. 8/10.
  • Grave Peril: "There are reasons I hate to drive fast. For one, the Blue Beetle, the mismatched Volkswagen bug that I putter around in, rattles and groans dangerously at anything above sixty miles an hour. For another, I don't get along so well with technology. Anything manufactured after about World War II seems to be susceptible to abrupt malfunction when I get close to it. As a rule, when I drive, I drive very carefully and sensibly. // Tonight was an exception to the rule."
  • Not bad, per se, but not all that good. It takes too long to get to its point, which makes it not as good of a hook. 6/10.
  • Summer Knight: "It rained toads the day the White Council came to town."
  • This one makes me giggle. 8/10. Good job.
  • Death Masks: "Some things just aren't meant to go together. Things like oil and water. Orange juice and toothpaste. // Wizards and television."
  • Very relatable. I, too, am no fan of toothpaste in my orange juice. I used to put toothpaste in my orange juice all the time and had no clue why my orange juice tasted so bad. I mean, who knew? 9/10.
  • Blood Rites: "The building was on fire, and it wasn't my fault."
  • There is no need to explain perfection. 15/10.
  • Dead Beat: "On the whole, we're a murderous race. According to Genesis, it took as few as four people to make the planet too crowded to stand, and the first murder was a fratricide. Genesis says that in a fit of jealous rage, the very first child born to mortal parents, Cain, snapped and popped the first metaphorical cap in another human being. The attack was a bloody, brutal, violent, reprehensible killing. Cain's brother Abel probably never saw it coming. // As I opened the door to my apartment, I was filled with a sense of empathic sympathy and intuitive understanding. // For freaking Cain."
  • One of the all time greats of this series. Lovely illustration of how Dresden feels and catches people up on his relationship with his brother really quick. 10/10.
  • Proven Guilty: "Blood leaves no stain on a Warden's grey cloak. I didn't know that until the day I watched Morgan, second in command of the White Council's Wardens, lift his sword over the kneeling form of a young man guilty of the practice of black magic. The boy, sixteen years old at the most, screamed and ranted in Korean underneath his black hood, his mouth spilling hatred and rage, convinced by his youth and power of his own immortality. He never knew it when the blade came down."
  • Dark. Really sets the tone for the book. Also, I'm, like, totally jealous. Blood stains are the worst. 8/10.
  • White Night: "Many things are not as they seem: The worst things in life never are."
  • I know, right? It's, like, I thought this guy who came into work would be just a normal customer and get his stuff and leave, but, instead, he rants about conspiracy theories and shit when I can't tell him to fuck off. 9/10. Good job.
  • Small Favor: "Winter came early that year; it should have been a tip-off."
  • Not bad, but kinda weak. I mean, did he even consider that maybe winter came early because Global Warming is actually a hoax? I mean, it isn't, but couldn't he at least consider the possibility? 6/10.
  • Turn Coat: "The summer sun was busy broiling the asphalt from Chicago 's streets, the agony in my head had kept me horizontal for half a day, and some idiot was pounding on my apartment door. // I answered it and Morgan, half his face covered in blood, gasped, 'The Wardens are coming. Hide me. Please.'"
  • It's just, like, whaaaaaat? Why's Morgan here? How'd he get all bloody? And, like, he even snuck in some nice foreshadowing with the headache. Really well done. 8/10.
  • Changes: "I answered the phone, and Susan Rodriguez said, 'They've taken our daughter.'"
  • Nice and shocking, making you want to read more, but the last book did a similar shocking opening better. 5/10.
  • Ghost Story: "Life is hard. // Dying's easy."
  • Totally relatable. I, like many others, wish for death because life is too hard. Thanks for making me feel better, Harry. 8/10.
  • Cold Days: "Mab, the Queen of Air and Darkness, monarch of the Winter Court of the Sidhe, has unique ideas regarding physical therapy."
  • One would imagine. I mean, did you hear her TED talk on it? Fascinating stuff. She's an innovator in the field. 7/10.
  • Skin Game: "There was a ticking time bomb inside my head and the one person I trusted to go in and get it out hadn't shown up or spoken to me for more than a year."
  • Don't you just hate it when you have a time bomb in your head? I know I do. But not all of us know bomb defusal experts. We're not all as lucky as you are, Dresden. I had to defuse my time bomb myself. Dick. 4/10.

useless-empty-brain  asked:

For the drabble: winterhawk 113

Surprising no one, this got out of hand. I was going to go canon MCU, but then I was struck by a fluff next-door-neighbours AU plot bunny, and this is what happened. Background Nat/Sam. Clint is oblivious and Bucky is mostly terrible at flirting.

Clint’s just queued up the next episode of Dog Cops when Natasha pops her head out from her room to glare at him. She starts talking at him, but his hearing aids are way over in his room and that’s a really long fucking way to go. He’s got the volume turned all the way up and the subtitles on, and it’s not like he’s completely deaf.

She rolls her eyes and starts signing instead.

Turn the volume down. We’re going to get complaints.

From who? He signs back. Mrs P** upstairs is as deaf as I am.

Next door. They moved in today. Nat signs at him, gesturing at the wall that separates their apartment from number 7b. Huh. Clint had been sure that was going to sit empty for ages.

They haven’t showed up yet, he points out. And it’s still before 10. That’s in their contract, he knows it is. If they show up, I’ll turn it down.

Or you could put your hearing aids in and watch it at a normal volume, Nat suggests. Clint considers it for about two seconds. His bedroom is a very long way away.

You could get them for me, he suggests instead. She rolls her eyes and shuts her door.

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wolfieroleplays  asked:

Sanvers or someone drags Kara for a night out to cheer her up after losing her job, end up in a gay club and there's more than a few women hitting on her, one coming off particularly hard and Kara is flustered. In comes her savior in the form of one Lena Luthor a la Kate (Dates, can't remember her surname lol) and Kara is even more flustered. What happens next is up to you~

This was fun!!! Thanks for sending this, I hope it gives you all a bit of a fun jolt. [Not Canon in terms of timeline - Lena/Kara are more like ep 2/3 status, even though Kara is fired from her job. Maggie knows Kara is Supergirl. Carry on…]

Off the Record - on AO3 or under the cut!

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Holsom soulmate AU where your soulmate’s first words to you are written on your skin. Several people requested this one, so hope y’all like it!


For a while, Ransom is pretty convinced Taylor Swift is his soulmate.

His soulmark happens to be the first line from the first song off her first mainstream album, written in a loopy script. He doesn’t know this until he hears Fearless playing on the radio, at which point he almost crashes his car in shock. He’s heard of Taylor Swift, sure, but he’s never heard her – he’s twenty-one, and he thinks he’s found his soulmate.

Of course, as several people worldwide reveal their Taylor Swift lyric soulmarks over the coming years, Ransom realizes there’s a good chance it’s not her.

But she’s the first person he hears sing those words, and even if she’s not his soulmate (he intends to meet her at some point just to check) Fearless becomes his favorite song. The twang of the guitar, the distinctly country feel – he’s never been one for country, but he lets it slide this one time. After all, it’s basically his song.

-

Medical school is hard.

Really hard. And Ransom’s a delicate coral reef at the best of times, so he’s learned to manage his study time carefully. He gauges his mood and decides if he needs pure silence, moderate noise or overwhelming heavy metal to study in. His habits come down on the side of pure silence more often than not, but he has on occasion gone down to the music rooms just to sit outside the door and zone into his studying with a dreadful screeching and the crash of drums in his ears.

Today, though, Ransom decides that he’s itching for something else. Brown is an elite school and there are plenty of coffee shops littered around trying to capitalize on the highly stressed student population, but he’s not in the mood for seeing several other frazzled people with papers strewn across tables. Instead he opts for something slightly further out from college, about ten minutes away by bus, and hops off at Bits and Pieces at 2pm sharp. He’s never been to the cutesy café-bakery before, but he’s heard only good things about it from April, March’s girlfriend, so he decides to give it a try. He approaches the pale blue storefront and pushes open the door to the tinkle of bells.

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