au meme (all)

If you ever get the chance to see your favourite band live, fucking do it and don’t regret a single thing.

6

Bugging the boys while they’re tired! Pt2 

 Part 1

I tried to come up with a serious role reversal AU in which Mana and Nea switch places but all I can think of is Nea raising Allen like “why are you so small”
“Idk, maybe because I’m 10 and live on the streets? Why are you so stupid?”
“Excuse me who is feeding you?”
“Not your untalented ass.”
And the two of them just constantly sassing each other.
While Mana - once he turns up in Allen’s head - is very concerned about how his brother raised Allen and also about well his crazed brother kinda like “Allen, are you fine?”
“You’re trying to take over my body how the hell should I be fine?”
“Ah, yeah, I’m sorry. I’m just concerned.”

crypticquestion  asked:

Maybe Alex Hirsch as Mayor Dewey? I mean he did play a really old version of himself as mayor of gravity falls and there is that one ep in SU (political power) were mayor Dewey keeps things from the public and it all falls to chaos (that's kind what's happening to the GF fandom right now)

on a side note to my suggestion of Alex Hirsch being Mayor Dewey I believe it would be hilarious and also completely plausible to see Alex driving around in a van that has a giant version of his head on top that chants “Mayor Hirsch”

I know I took Forever to do this but bless you for this idea, it’s So Good,

I just really want them to dance to old school Beyoncé |x| |x| and Fergie |x|

And i blame this dance!au fic —> “I bet you look good on the dance floor.” 

anonymous asked:

idk i was eating a kit-kat when i thot of this idea its prolly bad- keith eats his kit-kats by just,,, chompin into them and lance sees him do it and is like "dude,,,, what the FUCK" and keith is like "????"

no no this is solid™

Keith has no concept of human decency. Lance knew, already, but the confirmation comes in the form of sweet, sweet chocolate. 

He finds him in the kitchen at four am, clad in only his pajama pants, unwrapping a Kit-Kat that’s very clearly coming from Shiro’s pantry cabinet. That’s regular, so he just grunts at him and goes to open the fridge. He picks up some juice and fetches himself a glass, but when he turns back… Keith is sat at the kitchen counter, chewing, and his Kit-Kat has what clearly look like bite marks. The entire Kit-Kat. “What the fuck,” he says, with sentiment.

Keith gulps, blinks at him, catches his horrified gaze that goes between him and the chocolate like a ping pong ball. “What,” he echoes. Like there’s nothing wrong with him eating like that.

“That’s not how you eat a Kit-Kat,” Lance finds it in himself to explain, ever so mindful. He pours the juice in the glass and goes to sit down too, right in front of Keith and the unjustly mauled chocolate bar.

Keith frowns. “There’s a specific way,” he starts, “to eat a Kit-Kat.” He sounds incredulous, but also really unimpressed. That’s Keith for you.

“Of course!” Lance splutters “I can’t believe- You can’t bite into it directly! You have to- to separate the pieces. That’s why they’re there.”

Keith arches his eyebrows, looks down at his chomped down Kit-Kat. “Why?”

“Because,” Lance takes time gulping down some juice, raising a hand to signal that he’s not done “to savour it.”

Understanding dawns on Keith’s face, followed by a smirk. “Why would you delay instant gratification,” he says, and nibbles at the Kit-Kat again. Lance will die young, he always knew.
“Lance,” Keith licks his lips, offers him the bar “I’ve seen you eating french fries in groups of four.” His fingers are sticky with melted chocolate. Lance takes the bar anyway.

“I’m not convinced, but go on,” he says.


The next morning, when Lance bites down into another Kit-Kat bar without separating the pieces, Keith’s blooming smile is almost enough for him to ignore the feeling of being disrespecting the food gods. It’s certainly enough to make Shiro bench press them both and get them to buy him a new package with a whopping total of thirty six new Kit-Kat bars - but that’s another story.

arrenemris  asked:

9 + Nessian 🙏🙏🙏

“one small kiss, pulling away for an instant, then devouring each other”

AN: You know what this one seems perfect for? Undercover dating, aka a trope I live for xD

Thanks for the prompt, Madina <3


Nesta wasn’t prepared for this.

It’s barely a brush of Cassian’s firm lips against her own, accompanied by a hint of his scent hitting her nostrils and a calloused curve of his hand cupping her jaw.

It’s barely a brush but Nesta knows she’s in trouble, knows that she shouldn’t clutch at his jacket so tightly and her breath shouldn’t get caught in her throat like that, as if they’re kissing for the very first time and she’s slightly surprised by how good it feels, not when they’re supposed to have been dating for good few weeks now.

At least that’s the story.

Goddamn undercover work. Definitely not her thing. All that acting and subtlety and people skills it requires - not her cup of tea.

Nesta knows computers. Understands computers. Codes and algorithms and research that - bless the internet gods - don’t require actual human interaction.

That whole undercover business, on the other hand, is a freaking mess, that’s what it is - and worst of all, Nesta knew it would be and still went for it.

When, months after having gone completely AWOL, Feyre came back home with a new boyfriend at her side (and two suspicious-looking men at his side) and asked for her and Elain’s help, Nesta should’ve said no.

Alas, she was too pragmatic to refuse the promise of financial security for her sister as well as herself. Not after their useless father had gambled away the last of her mother’s inheritance money.

So naturally, when Feyre and Rhysand divulged details of their insane plan to steal away “Book of Breathings” - long-lost painting that had just found its way into the private collection of Kingston Hybern, Norwegian billionaire, Nesta could only sigh deeply and grit out her assent.

All while ignoring one of Rhysand’s oversized friends and his watchful gaze fixed on her at all times.

Cassian. Cassian was his name as she later learnt. Few days after that, she also found out exactly how hard his nose was when it collided with her fist (very hard and not at all good for her knuckles - you played yourself, Nesta).

And then, Feyre dropped the undercover bomb. As in her - Nesta - and him - Cassian - going undercover as a dating functioning couple of consenting adults to get access and do recon of Hybern’s Spanish villa where the painting was kept.

Her - a young spoiled heiress. Him - her current flavour of the month.

Did she mention they would have to pretend to - oh shocker! - like each other?

Like?!

Feyre certainly hadn’t thought this through.

Although right about now - as they’re dancing at Hybern’s party, their mouths only inches away - Nesta realizes - with no small amount of chagrin - that’s it’s not that hard to pretend after all.

Her skin still tingles where his lips grazed hers, and she can’t help but pull away and look at his face, her eyes searching, inquiring.

What just happened?

Why did it feel so good?

Cassian seems as lost as she is but only for a slow excruciating moment. And then -

Something just clicks and they’re kissing again but this time…Oh, this time, it’s consuming and hungry and carnal - his tongue swirling along her teeth, her nails digging into his shirt, his thumbs pressing into her hipbones, drawing her closer.

They’re discovering, they’re exploring, they’re absorbing.

They’re devouring.

It seems like it ends as abruptly as it started, with a little noise she made swallowed by his mouth, and when they lean back and their eyes meet this time, they share the same bewildered look.

“Well, shit,” Cassian manages in a low raspy voice that sends a shiver down her spine.

Perhaps for the very first time, Nesta agrees with him.

“Well, shit” sums it up pretty nicely for her too.