and the way kate is looking at him

A very long time ago @jennthereaper and @simplyn2deep both sent me this prompt, and I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long, but the other day I was finally inspired to take a stab at it. I hope you enjoy!

From The Way You Said “I Love You” 

#26 Broken, as you clutch the sleeve of my jacket and beg me not to leave

Please, Derek, please, I–“ Stiles chokes back the beginnings of tears and clutches harder at the sleeve of Derek’s jacket. He’s on his knees, having tripped in his scramble to get to Derek from the other side of the loft. “I love you, okay? And I’m sorry I didn’t say it before, I’ve been a coward about this whole thing, but I love you. And I know you love me too. I know you do, and I need you not to leave like this, fuck, Derek, please don’t do this.”

Derek stares down at him for a long time, heart clenched in his throat.

And then he looks up at where the other Stiles is pursing his lips in a hard frown as he watches the scene.

“It isn’t real?” Derek asks for the hundredth time since the other Stiles, the real Stiles, showed up in this apparent dreamscape.

Stiles shakes his head stiffly.

The Stiles on the floor is still pleading with him around tears, but the noises of his despair are starting to fade, as if Derek were now hearing him from a distance. Even his heartbeat, a sound that Derek has been clinging to as an anchor for what feels like forever, begins to disappear.

Derek swallows and steels himself against feeling anything more than determination to get through this newest mess.

“What now?” he asks, tone clinical and firm.

Stiles answers him in a similar tone, his expression betraying nothing about what’s going on in his own head. A far cry from the Stiles that Derek first met a couple years ago, terrified and mouthy and young. “Now you wake up.”

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It’s Your Daddy’s Birthday, Sweetie

Summary: It’s Sam’s birthday and your daughter and her uncle have a surprise for him
Words: 1k
Sam x Reader, Dean, Katie (OC)
Warnings: fluffs

Daddy!Sam ‘Verse - Masterpost

Kisses pressed to the knob of your spine and across your shoulder roused you from your peaceful sleep.

You hummed contentedly, letting your eyes flutter open to take in the dim light of your bedroom in the morning, the small windows at the top of your walls doing their best to let natural light flood the room.

“Happy Birthday, babe,” you murmured as Sam rolled you onto your back, kissing your exposed collarbone. “You’re old, now.”

He laughed softly, pulling back and smiling down at you.

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a basic summary of any given NCIS episode seasons
  • random person: *doing random every day thing*
  • kid: omfg WHY IS THERE A BODY IN THIS CAR/POND/OTHER WEIRD PLACE
  • random person: cause kid we are on a tv show where a lot of people die
  • ~foof~
  • tony: bla bla bla funny stuff bla
  • mcgee: bla bla bla tech stuff banter bla
  • kate/ziva/bishop: *done with both of their shit*
  • ziva: *flirts with tony for good measure*
  • tiva eyesex: *ensues*
  • gibbs: dead marine found stuffed into a grocery store display grab your gear
  • tony: what the fuck boss
  • -cut to crime scene-
  • team: *investigates*
  • team: *banter*
  • ducky: *wise observation about Strange Case of the Week™*
  • palmer: *falls off a hill*
  • tony: boss i think it might be a suicide
  • gibbs: *broods* nah
  • ~foof~
  • *later in bullpen*
  • jenny shepherd/vance: gibbs don't do the thing
  • gibbs: *does the thing*
  • ducky: *autopsy stuff*
  • abby: *does forensic stuff in a lovable way*
  • tiva: *more eyesex in the bullpen*
  • tony: boss we found a guy who's totally not a red herring
  • gibbs: *interrogates totally not red herring*
  • gibbs: this isn't our guy
  • tony: *eats an entire burrito to make him look like more of an asshole*
  • kate/ziva/bishop: wtf
  • ~foof~
  • everybody: *more investigating stuff*
  • gibbs: my gut says it's the guy's exlover's son's dentist's ex wife that killed him and stuffed him in the display
  • shepherd/vance: what the fuck gibbs
  • abby: gibbs is right
  • the guy's ex lover's son's dentist's ex wife: yes tis I that killed him
  • ziva: *probably fights him*
  • gibbs: rule #124: it's always the dentist
  • everyone: *nod in appreciation of Gibbs Wisdom*
  • tiva: *more eyesex*
  • ~foof~
  • *credits*

kissokomos  asked:

you've been asked about "@ god why" but what's the premise behind "The Devil Went Down On Georgia" because i just read that title aloud to my roommate (both of us having lived in georgia for at least the last ten years) and they laughed their ass off

pannyexpress also said: Ok but am I the only one curious about ‘the devil went down on georgia’ ???

Judging by the comments, no, no you are not.

The Devil Went Down On Georgia is actually a sequel idea for the contemporary Scottish RomCom I am writing called The Devil’s Sporran, also inspired by a tumblr post where the Romance genre was summed up as “shirtless Satan in a kilt” and I went off on a mad tangent and basically brain stormed an entire novel in the span of three reblogs. The basic summary and following excerpt goes as follows:

I’m thinking a modern setting. Young woman is the maid of honor to her bff’s wedding to be held in Scotland where both her and her beau are from, and as the maid of honor she gets introduced to all kinds of quaint traditions she’s never before encountered. Like trying to find a real silver sixpence, taking the bride out around the town on her Taking Out, the whole kerfuffle with trying to find matching dresses for three vastly different shaped women, and realizing at the last minute she’s expected to pick out a tea set for the bride despite being a coffee drinker her whole life, and what the fuck is the difference between Wedgwood and Denby.

And then there’s the groom’s best man…she feels someone should have warned her about him.

*

“What are you doing in here?” she demanded, scrabbling to cover herself with the ugly tartan shawl even though she was fully dressed.

“I was next door,” Donnie informed her, eyes darting over the length of her, “looking at scabbards. Are you all right? You sounded upset.”

“I’m fine!” but even to her own ears it sounded panicked and shrill. Her shoulders slumped, defeated. “I can’t get out of this stupid dress. There’s too many buttons and the assistant has run off.”

Donnie chuckled easily, the sound curling straight down to Kate’s bare toes hidden under the length of her skirt. It was offensive how charming this particular Scotsman could be, especially given how effortless he made it seem. She was almost certain she’d have hated it in anyone else.

“She’s helping a bride, I heard crying so you’re on you’re own. Let me?”

The question was so unexpected and softly spoken it threw her off guard, and Kate found herself compelled to turn as he stepped further into the changing room, pulling the curtain closed behind him. She’d half expected to be manhandled by rough hands, surprised when he began freeing her from the confines of the bodice with the utmost gentleness.

“There now,” Donnie intoned soothingly, as the dress began to slip away from her shoulders. “All better.”

“Thank you,” Kate murmured, the ghost of his fingertips still hot against her spine.

“You look lovely, by the way, very” he smiled tightly, catching her eye in the mirror, “honorable.

Kate snorted, and moved to hold the bodice in place against her chest, aware that a good portion of her naked back was now exposed to him. “I’m supposed to look like the bride. Some tradition about keeping the Devil away.”

“Hmm,“ Donnie hummed, the silk of her skirt trailing through his fingers as he leant in, smile broadening into a roguish grin. “Tell me, do you think it’s working?”

You can find the full conversation here:  [link]

It also already has artwork created by @songofsunset which is the background to my laptop where that manuscript currently resides:

The Devil Went Down On Georgia is so far, purely in the speculative phase, but that doesn’t stop me from writing down scenes that come into my head at random, hence the folder :D

Babysitting

Summary: Your cousin needs help with her adorable 2-year-old.

Words: 1533

Paring: Steve x Reader

Warnings: Kids and loads and loads of fuffly

Originally posted by bushy-barnes

Originally posted by prtypooper

“Are you sure that you three are going to be okay?” You look into your cousins’ eyes and nod. You understand that she is worried about leaving her daughter with you and Steve for the whole afternoon, it’s the first time since her divorce that she is going out and she is looking for excuses not to “Of course, how many times have I watched Kate? Go have fun on your date.”

“It is not a date and are you sure that Steve is not gonna mind? He works so much and this is his free time…” You don’t let her finish “Of course it is a date, he asked you for coffee and cake, and in my book that is a date. About Steve, don’t worry he loves kids.”

You are not sure if this is true, you and Steve never talked about having kids or even kids in general in your eight-month relationship. But how bad can it be? In the worst case, he spends all day locked in the room while you play with a toddler.

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The One Where They’re on the Couch- Steve x Reader

Request: Thanks, Anon! I actually really liked writing this one.

“Could you do #5 and #38 from the prompt list with Steve Rogers, love your writing by the way”

Prompts: 5. “I just want to cuddle and watch Friends.” + 38. “Do you ever think if people heard our conversations, they’d lock us up?”

Notes/Warnings: fluff, floof, cuddling, pure fluff. (what? Kate did a piece with absolutely NO angst?)

Originally posted by caps-bucky

 “It’s your turn to pick what we do, tonight.” Steve leaned against the counter as he crossed his arms and yawned.

 Instantly, your own yawn stretched your lungs and jaw and you sighed beside him. “I think I want -and don’t make fun of me, okay?” You looked up at Steve and he nodded with a faint smile. “I just want to cuddle and watch Friends.”

 The soft smile Steve had turned into a toothy grin and he scooped you up and cradled you in his arms. “I can do that.” He winked down at you. He carried you to the couch and set you down gently before grabbing a few blankets and throwing them at you. He chuckled at the shriek you let out and disappeared into the kitchen.

 You relaxed into the couch cushions and spread out the blankets, creating your own little nest of warmth. Steve wandered back into view holding an armful of snacks and drinks.

 “Think this’ll be enough?” He smiled knowing perfectly well what the answer was.

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anonymous asked:

astle is picking up feminine products for Alexis or Martha (depending upon what age you want him to be) when some teenage boys start teasing him about it. Kate overhears and decides to pretend she is his girlfriend, kisses him on the cheek and thanks him for holding her stuff. (Not myn)

A/N: I get the impression that this was potentially meant as an AU meeting idea, but I hope this is still acceptable!

Set post 3x12, ‘Poof! You’re Dead”.

-

After their comfort food truck dinner, the urge to extend the evening, to refrain from telling her good night is almost visceral, desperate, and the excuse to remain with her awhile longer presents itself in the form of a text message from his daughter.

“Hey, do you mind if we stop by the drugstore on the way to my place, Alexis just texted me and wants me to pick something up for her,” Castle asks as they slide into her cruiser, internally delighted when Beckett nods her assent without hesitation. 

“Sure, is there a particular store she prefers?”

“Nah, anything on the way will work,” he assures her, buckling up while she starts the engine. 

They alternate between small talk and comfortable silence through the drive that takes longer than it should due to traffic, everything about this evening with her a comfort, and that single, dramatized word from his mother flashes through his mind.

He never would have thought something so simple could hold the magic he’d been looking for. 

Kate comes into the store with him, but they part ways for a bit while he wanders towards hygiene, striding towards the feminine products with familiar ease, glancing back to the text from Alexis on his phone to ensure he buys the right brand.

He hears the snicker of voices when he plucks the box of tampons from the shelf, catches sight of the two teenage boys peering at him from the other end of the aisle, cracking up as he snags another box to keep in stock. It doesn’t bother him, never has, but he does roll his eyes at the immaturity. 

“Hey, man, are you sure you got the right box?” one of them calls out. 

“Yeah, sure your girl doesn’t need the supers?” the other teases, but Castle merely nods. 

“I’m good, thanks.”

“You might want to take some of those mini diaper things too, the ones with the wings,” the first chuckles.

“You know, I might. I hear they’d be crucial for bandaging wounds in a zombie apocalypse,” Castle muses, his late nights of binging doomsday prepping shows coming in handy, but the two boys only laugh harder at him. 

“This dude’s pathetic,” he catches one of them get out through his amusement, and the words don’t hurt him - as if he’s going to care what some uneducated, fifteen year olds who spend their free time in a drug store think - but the memories of his own grade school years, before he figured out his niche as the class clown, it elicits are less than appreciated.

Rick checks his phone one more time, texts Alexis to be sure she doesn’t need anything else before he goes to find Beckett and check out, but he pauses at the touch of a hand to his shoulder just as he’s about to press ‘send’.

“Hey, babe,” Beckett hums at his side, her other arm twining through his and the scent of her perfume infiltrating his senses. 

Castle’s eyebrow arches, but it’s nothing compared to the spike of his heart rate when she leans into his side, plants a chaste kiss on his cheek.

“Thanks for holding my stuff,” she murmurs, snagging the boxes of tampons, dropping them into the small basket she’s acquired. 

He doesn’t spare a glance in their direction, but he notices the boys at the other end of the aisle have gone quiet, and he understands.

Beckett must have overheard and now she’s teaching them a lesson.

Castle plays along with the arm he wraps around her shoulders. “Anytime.”

She smirks and tugs him out of the aisle, but keeps her arm linked through his even once he’s withdrawn his and they’re out of their audience’s sight.

“My hero,” he chuckles, relishing in the soft sound of her laughter so close to his ear.

“I hate kids like that,” she mutters, curling her fingers in the crook of his elbow. “You’re a great example of how men should act when it comes to periods.”

Castle straightens his shoulders and puffs out his chest with pride. “The perks of being a single father raising a teenage daughter.”

“Alexis is a lucky girl,” she concedes, releasing him once they reach the register. 

“I used to do the same for my mother,” he shrugs as the employee scans his items. “People just like to make a big deal out of nothing.”

He stretches past her for the candy on display before he has to swipe his card, tosses her favorite brand of chocolate into his bag of purchases, and pays for the items.

Kate hums, the smile on her face soft but illuminating her face as they walk away from the counter, and he tries not to falter as her arm slips through his once more. The warmth of her side brushing his penetrates his coat as they step out into the night, his stride slow to prolong the moment, heating his skin, his soul. 

“Any girl would be lucky to have you then.”

WHY YOU ALL HATING ON GABE FOR HE’S SO PRECIOUS AND PURE

DID YOU NOT SEE THE WAY HE HUGGED HIS FATHER

DID YOU NOT SEE THE WAY HE HUGGED JAVI AND TOLD HIM HOW WORRIED HE WAS

DID YOU NOT SEE THE WAY HE ASKED ABOUT CLEMENTINE

DID YOU NOT SEE THE WAY HE WANTED TO HELP KATE WHEN SHE GOT SHOT

DID YOU NOT SEE THE WAY HE BEAT HIMSELF UP BECAUSE HE RAN AWAY AND LEFT HER

DID YOU NOT SEE THE LOOK ON YOUNG GABE’S FACE WHEN KATE TOLD HIM HIS FRIEND WERE DEAD

DID YOU NOT SEE YOUNG GABE WANTING TO WRITE A LETTER TO HIS DAD

DID YOU NOT SEE HOW MUCH HE CARED ABOUT HIS SISTER

DO YOU NOT SEE WHAT AN AMAZING AND CARING PERSON HE ACTUALLY IS?? HE NEEDS TO BE PROTECTED

Imagine Stiles gets a job at the FBI but he doesn’t tell them about Derek. One day, Derek comes into the office to give Stiles his phone after he left it at home.

Concerned (and slightly shocked that Stiles is dating a man that looks like a god), they do a background search on Derek, digging up the police reports on the Hale fire, the arrest made on the suspicion of killing Laura, and many other files. They sit Stiles down and practically interrogate him, telling him that Derek is a bad man and suggesting that Derek used his inherited fortune to buy his way out of cases and that he’s actually married (because Derek wears a wedding ring). Stiles snaps and replies, telling them about Kate and how he never once bought his way out of a police investigation. He’s a good man who volunteers at animal showers and leases his old houses out to the homeless and to people who need a home after being evicted on short notice. And he knows Derek’s married because Derek is married to him (he just doesn’t wear a ring because being in his line of profession, if someone sees a ring then they know he’s married and that puts a target on Derek’s back and he doesn’t want that).

Stiles storms off and heads straight home and practically collapses on Derek. Derek tells him it’s okay and when Stiles goes to work the next day with his ring on Derek takes it off and tells him he can have it back when he comes home later because he doesn’t have to change anything for anyone.

ladyknighttime  asked:

As a newer follower, what is A Highlander's Tail?

Oh boy. I’m guessing that means you also don’t know PDOC about Fifty Shades of Plaid and The Devil’s Sporran either then.

Hello, welcome to the crack that is going to be my literary career, this post will be your guide.

Hunger Pangs you likely know about but here’s the origin post where @jeneelestrange straight up altered the career path of my life.

I’ll keep Public Displays of Confection short, but basically I came up with the pun and liked it so much I decided to turn it into a w/w romance about two bakers who fall in love while competing in a wedding cake contest. It’s so sweet it might actually give you diabetes. (Small humorous extract)


A Highlander’s Tail started because @thestarfishdancer is a horrible enabler and I couldn’t help from shitposting in response. Somehow I ended up being convinced I should write a thing called A Highlander’s Tail. The vague plot outline I have so far features a Scottish werewolf who becomes a retainer for a young English woman who is brought to Scotland after marrying her much older (also English) husband. (A common trope in awful American written Scottish romances.) As with most old Scottish houses however, there’s rumors abound of ghosties and goblins and things that go bump in the night. Which is absurd of course. They howl. 

Cailean Glenn—our resident werewolf, does his best to make her feel welcome in his own gruff way, but when her marriage starts to flounder and she starts straying farther and farther from home as a means of distraction, he realizes the secret of the (fictional) town of Braedhuin may be at risk of exposure. 

There’s all sorts of shenanigans and romantic guff, as well as fun little absurdities like were-sheep who herd themselves and win national prizes. As per @deliriumsetin‘s wishes Cailean’s best friend is a plucky Irishman, Ruaidhrí, who seems to own an Irish setter who is often conspicuous by his absence. The setter is a downright friendly fellow though.


The Devil’s Sporran is a lighthearted contemporary romance spurred on after an article denouncing romance literature as basically sin, used the hilarious phrase “Shirtless Satan” to describe men in kilts. Some people wanted it to be the actual Devil, but for now he’s just an ordinary good looking man with a smile that can make you think very bad things.

The main focus is on Kate, an American who is the maid of honor to her college bff’s wedding to be held in Scotland where both her and her beau are from. As the maid of honor she gets introduced to all kinds of quaint traditions she’s never before encountered which you don’t really have to deal with in America. Like trying to find a real silver sixpence, taking the bride out around the town on her Taking Out, the whole kerfuffle with trying to find matching dresses for three vastly different shaped women, and realizing at the last minute she’s expected to pick out a tea set for the bride despite being a coffee drinker her whole life, and what the fuck is the difference between Wedgwood and Denby.
And then there’s the groom’s best man Donnie…she feels someone should have warned her about him:

“What are you doing in here?” Kate demanded, scrabbling to cover herself with the ugly tartan shawl despite being fully dressed.

“I was next door,” Donnie informed her, eyes darting over the length of her, “looking at scabbards. Are you all right? You sounded upset.”

“I’m fine!” She protested, but even to her own ears it sounded shrill. Her shoulders slumped, defeated. “I can’t get out of this stupid dress. There’s too many buttons and the assistant has apparently run away and I can’t breathe.”

Donnie chuckled easily and the sound went curling straight down to Kate’s bare toes, hidden under the length of her skirt. It was offensive how charming this particular Scotsman could be, especially given how effortless he made it seem. She was almost certain she’d have hated anyone else for it.

“She’s helping a bride,” he informed her, “I heard crying so you’re on you’re own for a while. Let me?”

The question was so unexpected and softly spoken it threw her off guard, and Kate found herself compelled to turn as he stepped further into the changing room, pulling the curtain closed behind him. She’d half expected to be manhandled by rough hands, surprised when he began freeing her from the confines of the bodice with the utmost of gentleness.

“There now,” Donnie intoned soothingly as the dress began to slip away from her shoulders. “All better.”

“Thank you,” Kate murmured, drawing in shuddering breath, the ghost of his fingertips still hot against her spine.

“You look lovely, by the way, very,” he smiled tightly, catching her eye in the mirror, “honorable.

Kate snorted, and moved to hold the bodice in place against her chest, aware that a good portion of her naked back was now exposed to him. “I’m supposed to look like the bride. Some tradition about keeping the Devil away.”

“Hmm,“ Donnie hummed, the silk of her skirt trailing through his fingers as he leant in, smile broadening into a roguish grin over her shoulder. “Tell me, Kate, do you think it’s working?”

It’s even got fanart already, cutesy of @songofsunset:


Fifty Shades of Plaid started out again as a humorous shitpost when I was being salty over how Scottish history is often romanticized to make us look like tragic heroes, rather than the victims of class oppression, and cultural warfare. 

It’s since turned into a serious novel which follows the standard Scottish romance style but is actually a visceral denouncement of the whole trope of Scottish romances written by outsiders with little to no regard for our heritage beyond “men in kilts look good” (a lighthearted sample).

It’s the story about a wealthy weaver and his daughter acquiring land in Scotland, after buying out a weaving town, intending to produce the cloth for much lower wages, and selling it at a far more expensive price on the Royal Mile in Edinburgh after it became fashionable to wear again in 1822 after King George IV felt like playing dress up, despite the kilt having been banned for actual Scottish people to wear for almost four decades for being considered an act of treason. Hence the title, fifty shades of plaid.

The main characters at present are called Elizabeth and Alasdair, and it will likely be years before I am done writing this. But it’ll get there, one day.

I also have various other writing projects going on, but these were the ones inspired by tumblr. I am hoping to churn one out each year, though in what order I don’t quite know.

And that my doves, is why I have no fucking time on my hands lmao.

(Request) Make You Remember

Title: Make You Remember

Characters: Negan x Kate

Requested by: @worlds-forever-apart

Something where the reader is one of his wives but tends to ignore him so one day he finally has enough and asks you to his room and they have rough sex. (Also beardless Negan would be preferable)

Warnings: NSFW

Note: Long overdue request! Ahhh hate how my inspiration’s been running away lately. I hope this came out okay and not mediocre omg. I’ve written and re-written this countless of times because it’s just never okay. Again, I’m so sorry for taking so long! Hope you enjoy this, Kate! And I’m sorry if this didn’t live up to your expectations!!!

Kate was in the commissary looking around for things when she heard the familiar whistling of Negan from afar. She froze on the spot at the realization that there was no one else in the room but her. The last thing she wanted was to be stuck with her husband, with no way out. She began grabbing stuff as fast as she could, not wanting to have any sort of confrontation with Negan.

Kate had been ignoring him after all.

The whistling stopped and when no sound followed after a couple of seconds, Kate heaved out a sigh of relief and finally decided to head out before Negan could even enter the room. Much to her dismay, the door slammed open, revealing a clean-shaven Negan with Lucille propped on his shoulder. His lips curled into a smirk as he sauntered inside the commissary, kicking the door behind him as he approached his wife.

“Hello there, wifey.” He greeted with his usual playful tone.

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I went and saw Saturday Night Live (S42, E15) and all I got was the best time ever.

Okay so I love it when people make step-by-step stories about when they went to SNL so I thought i’d make one myself.

I got tickets through the Twitter contest they had where you were suppose to send in an email about why you’re ‘the biggest SNL fan’. I sent mine in and got a reply about two days later that I had won! This was about a week before the show (insert panic-attack. Planning a trip from Sweden to nyc takes more than I week I can assure you, I don’t know how we got it all done time…).

Anyway! When we got to SNL the girls (‘cause they were almost all girls) working there were SO nice. I met the girl who had booked me and I thanked her and told her I was gonna name my firstborn after her. Another one recognized my name ‘cause I had replied to an email they had sent with a gif of Sue (Kristen Wiig) saying “i’m so freaking excited!” lmao.

You get wristbands, tickets, you go through security, you sit down in a waiting room and wait. After a while they start calling people like “purple wristbands come this way”, “people with the letter A on their tickets come this way”. And when you’re called you get in to an elevator with a bunch of strangers, then walk through a hall and then get your seats.

We were up on the grandstands sitting right in front of the stage where the musical artist perform which was great ‘cause you could see practically everything (some seats truly are crap, as Michael Che pointed out. I know I know i’m getting to that, stay calm) but you could also see alot of what was happening outside of the camera frame.

Lorne Michaels walked passed us down below and it was like seeing god. He would walk around, chat with someone, check his clock and then just stayed out of people’s way and let them work.

The house band open the show. Then Michael Che comes on and does stand up for a bit. There was this guy in the front row who kept giving sort of guy-tries-to-be-funny-but-it-only-comes-out-as-cocky sort of answers so Michael Che went all in and dragged his ass for attending the show by himself etc “you a weird dude, Tom”. People were pissing themselves laughing, he’s phenomenal at stand up (Tom was laughing too, I should add).
Then Keenan Thompson performed a song with Cecily, Vanessa and Sasheer and I figured/hoped Kate was gonna be in the cold open.

And she was! Leslie came out and sat on that bench first and everyone cheered and applauded her and she looked genuinly happy and surprised and waved at everyone. Kate came out and while everyone was waiting for the show to come on air her and Leslie kept mucking around and doing funny faces to eachother making everyone laugh. And then a woman (more on her later) started yelling 45 seconds! 30 seconds! 10! 5,4,3,2…. and we were live. It was thrilling.

Shorter fun facts about the show:

*If a person is in two sketches back to back a makeup artist etc. will come on stage, grab them and run, and I do mean RUN. Like if Lorne Michaels himself is in the way they will push him aside.

*Octavia was really good. She’s so talented and seemed focused but happy. Loved that I got to see a first-timer hosting SNL.

*Kate did all of the Kellyanne Conway bits live, non were pre-recorded. She would come out (right below where we were sitting! She truly is tiny you guys, like even tinier than she looks in photos) wearing slippers. And she would stand and wait for the sketch to be over and then she would kick of her slippers, get on her knees, they filmed her, she put her slippers back on and went backstage.

*Melissa Villasenor what an angel. I felt like we got to witness the first show where she really got the flex her muscles and show what she can do. The crowd was laughing so hard. I am convinced she’s gonna be the next big thing on SNL. Sidenote: the fact that they did an impression of Kate while Kate is still on the show truly shows what an actual star she’s becoming. Amazing.

*There was a woman working on the crew, I do not know her name and I do not know what her job is but goddamn she was cool. She seemed to be the coordinator of every sketch and would stay in frame talking to the actors until the very last second, and I do mean the very last. One time she literally had to throw herself out of frame, and seemed totally unfazed by it. Really made you feel how LIVE this show truly is.

*During the goodbyes Kate and Cecily hugged for 2000 years. Kate looked tired, I aint gonna lie. She wasn’t in any sketches except the cold open since she’s working on another film. I am quite sure she will leave this season and to have gotten to see her before she left truly was an honor and privilege (this was also one of the motivations in my email I sent in btw).

This was one of the best things I have ever done. To get to see how this show works irl was an absolute delight. They seem to have SO FUN doing this, all you wanna do is run backstage and hang out with everyone and braid their hair. And I got to here the “Live from New York!” LIVE. FROM NEW YORK.

siverwrites replied to your post

“ssalogel replied to your post “IMPORTANT QUESTION. Vampires aren’t…”

If you AU stuff enough will it come around full circle back to canon?

Gods I hope not. I have this awful awful AU headcanon about Vlad, like vampire Vlad, living in the present and I just:

“She’s very pretty,” Kate said, attention fixed on Gwen who was laughing at something Andy had said, face bright with happiness as they flirted hesitantly over the table, casting surreptitious looks towards their respective parental figures who made a point of looking away whenever they did. He knew Gwen didn’t care what he thought, she was more than old enough to do what she wanted, but it helped for the look of the thing. Especially when you were supposed to only be nineteen and not going on three hundred.

“Yes, she got that from her mother.”

There must have been something in the way he’d said it, some small inflection that gave him away from the way Kate’s hand hovered over his arm before coming to rest beside it instead. He could feel the warmth of her skin seeping in through his shirt.

She has your smile,” Kate said, pulling Vlad back into the present.

“She has my humor,” Vlad corrected, taking another sip from his drink. “Her smile belonged to her father.”

There was a beat of silence, followed by, “Oh so you’re not her…”

“No,” Vlad finished for her. 

“So you’re…her uncle?”

Vlad shrugged. “Sure.”

That seemed to throw her for a loop, and Vlad laughed, a soft gentle huff of sound. “There’s no blood relation between Gwen and I, but I’ve been a constant in her life since she was born,” he smiled fondly, “Nathan thought it was hysterical that her first word was “vladda”, she thought it was another word for “dadda”.”

“Nathan is her father?”

“Biologically speaking, yes. She’s always thought of me as one of her father’s, not much else matters.”

He could see her confusion clearly now, the tiny little wheels turning in her human brain. 

“We were lovers,” he said, rescuing her from the question she didn’t want to be rude enough to ask, “her father and mother and I, the three of us. We were together for a long time.” He allowed himself a fragile smile. “We were a very happy family…”

“Were…you’re not any more?”

“No,” Vlad said carefully, looking down at his soft drink and watching the ice melt in the glass.

“What happened? I mean, sorry, I just…”

“They died. A very long time ago. ” Vlad said shortly, looking up at her face and counting the freckles along the bridge of her nose to have something to focus on other than the yawning maw of grief in his chest—great gaping holes in his soul in the shape of her smile and the color of his eyes—“So long ago it feels like only yesterday.”

anonymous asked:

Can you do 1, 8, 15, 16? Lovee you

1. “If you had asked me to stay, I would’ve.”

8. “Go to hell.”

15. “It doesn’t matter. You’ve moved on and I have to be okay with that.”

16. “Do you wish things had happened differently?”

LOL ANON ASKING FOR SOME SERIOUS ANGST. BUCKLE UP KIDS. SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG BUT IT’S 2100 WORDS I GOT CARRIED AWAY. ENJOY.

IT’S BLURB NIGHT BITCHES


Four months was a long time. The seasons had changed from the bitter dry cold of January to the damp mildness of April. I thought the warmth might make things better, but the melting of snow just revealed the dead grass underneath, the litter that had piled up and been hidden by the white of winter. Things were the same.

We’d broken up on New Year’s Day. New Year’s Eve was a confusing blur of overwhelming crowds and saying the wrong thing and missing the midnight kiss. I was crying on a curb when the ball dropped. I don’t know where Shawn was. The next morning we met up at a small coffee shop and he broke up with me in the corner booth, by the window. We’d drifted apart, he claimed. Neither of us felt the same way we did when we started going out three years earlier. We had to grow up. He had to focus on his music, I had to focus on school. Or so he told me. I wasn’t really listening though. I was stuck wondering when he’d figured this all out. Was there a specific moment he realized he didn’t love me anymore? Did he wake up in a cold sweat wondering why he was still sleeping beside me? Surely he’d dwelled on this decision for a while, so when did he come to a conclusion? How many times did he look me in the eye and tell me he loved me since realizing he didn’t anymore? Four months later and I was still dwelling on that.

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Requested by @yjrevolution
John’s daughter (Reader) X Isaiah pregnancy announcement.
Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Cursing, Mentions of Miscarriage.

Ok guys, I had to really sit and do some math for the first time since I graduated high school (joking). Everyone is basically older in this imagine – John is 35, not 29, which in turn makes the other Shelby’s older, except Finn (18) is younger than his niece by a year, and we are just going to go along with it because that’s the only way this imagine works.

Hope you guys enjoy this one! FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED!

***

You knew you wouldn’t be able to hide your small bump from the family – or Isaiah much longer. You had only popped a few days ago, a small and almost noticeable swell finally made an appearance.

You were about five and a half months along. You knew you should have told Isaiah when the physician confirmed it two months prior, but after already losing a baby -  you wanted to be sure that this one wasn’t going anywhere. You didn’t want to get Isaiah’s hopes up again, only to have them crushed.

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Hello, I decided to join in with the “if you see this, post an excerpt from your WIP” thingy. Here’s a bit of my canon-ish HL fic that has been slowly killing me for months (hopefully this will motivate me to actually finish it):

~*~

Harry takes a deep breath, gearing himself up, and opens the app, going straight into his mentions.

There are people telling him that they’re proud of him for coming out, that they’re happy for him and will love and support him no matter what. He wants to jokingly respond that he hopes there are some instances in which they wouldn’t keep supporting him, but when he actually types it out, if falls a bit flat and too serious, and he ends up just simply thanking them. There are others who thank him, who tell him their stories and how much hope he gives them, that if someone they look up to is gay and open about it, then maybe it’s okay for them, too, that maybe it means their parents would understand and wouldn’t hate them for it. It breaks his heart and makes his throat feel tight, as he tells them how important they are and that he loves them.

He thinks about his own insecurities and fears, how scared he’s been for so fucking long. Louis called him a coward once, spat it in his face in the middle of a fight, and Harry doesn’t think he was wrong. He’s been scared for such a long time, of so many things — he never forgot the look on Louis’ face, how angry and hurt he sounded, and he tried to use it to better himself, to grow. He hopes he has. He hopes that maybe now he can give something back, help someone else, ease someone’s struggles, even if only a little.

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Sherlock was right, of course. She’s gone. Left us the phone because I suppose she trusted us.

He was asked to look at the body to confirm it was her. Her face wasn’t exactly… recognisable so he wasn’t able to make a positive identification. So they brought in her girlfriend (who I, apparently, met! How did I not know Kate was her girlfriend?) to visually identify her by her body, instead.

I’ve had hundreds of messages from you all asking me if I was jealous (or, rather, telling me that I am) and perhaps in some way you were right, he’s been in raptures about how exciting she is and I was worried that he -

Anyway. We can move on from this. I’m going to drag Sherlock on to the sofa now and get him to deduce things about the people in the background on the news. If he can. He’s still looking… forlorn.

Chris Evans Imagine

Requested: Anonymous

Imagine: hiii i found ur account and literally in love with it, and i was wondering if you could write a chris evans imagine where you are babysitting sebastians neice (who is a complete brat) and so sebastian leaves to go out and you and chris try to become friends with his neice but she just doesn’t like you two at all. so she pulls a prank on you and hides somewhere and you two think that you lost her. sebastian calls you up telling you he’s on his way home. you can make up the rest, thank you love u!

A/N: aww, thanks nonny, i love you to <3

Warning: None


You march your way up the stairs of the apartment that Sebastian was currently living in, you had Chris beside you on the way up. You finally reached Sebastian’s door and knocked, the door swung right open, not a second passed by. It seemed that Sebastian was waiting for you, which he obviously was. After Sebastian opened the door your eyes shift down to his leg which had a young lady wrapped around it.

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