German Fairytales be like:
  • <p> <b>German Parent:</b> Let me tell you a bedtime story, sweety :)<p/><b>Tale:</b> *Guy gets eaten alive by the dogs he used to torment*<p/><b>Tale:</b> *young boy whoms fingers are getting cut off because he wouldnt stop sucking on them*<p/><b>Tale:</b> *Girl plays with fire and burns herself and her house down*<p/><b>Tale:</b> *Young boy starves to death because he's a picky eater*<p/><b>Tale:</b> *Boy gets blown away by the wind and is never heard of again*<p/><b>Tale:</b> *Boy drowns because he's dreaming too much and thus isn't aware of his surroundings*<p/><b>Tale:</b> *Children are led to their death by a flute playing maniac because their parents didn't want to pay their debts*<p/><b>German Parent:</b> Good night my little ones (:<p/></p>

anonymous asked:

Just imagine Luke knowing you had the worst headache so he makes you some tea (or something you like to drink) and he lays down with you in bed and just pulls you into him so your both completely tangled in each other's arms and he starts humming little melodies and telling you how much he loves you and then you fall asleep like that and he just smiles like a little goof because he can't believe how lucky he is to be with you

if he brought me tea and hummed me to sleep rn i would honestly be the happiest person alive omg (=゜ω゜)

La Leyenda Del Conejo.

En una ocasión el dios Quetzalcóatl se disfrazó de hombre y se dispuso a caminar por el mundo. Anduvo sin parar durante el día y por la noche se sentó junto a un árbol, hambriento y cansado, cuando las estrellas iluminaban el firmamento. A su lado se encontraba un pequeño conejo comiendo zacate, y éste le ofreció compartir su alimento.

Quetzalcóatl le dijo que él no comía zacate y el conejo sin pensarlo dos veces ofreció su cuerpo para que le sirviese de alimento. La deidad, sorprendida por la inmensa generosidad del animal, quiso agradecerle el gesto. -Conejito, aunque sólo seas un pequeño animal, por tu gran ofrenda todo el mundo se acordará de ti- le dijo, y lo levantó muy alto, hasta la Luna, donde su silueta quedó grabada para siempre.


as promised, my turn to write a bed time story for y’all-slash-the first of many things i owe @okbutluke​ :-) / masterlist

The apartment is eerily quiet when Luke walks in, the thud of his duffle bag dropping to the floor the only sound echoing against white walls, followed shortly by his bittersweet sigh. He immediately regrets his insistence that you don’t shift your schedule for him, now that he’s faced with an empty home and an ache in his bones to see you.

He thinks back to you pouting over facetime that he only had a little over a week before he was gone again and if you could you’d throw away your phone and forget anyone else existed for every day that he was back. He wishes he’d been more encouraging of that idea when he can’t even locate your excitable golden retriever to keep him company.

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luke would feel so Big when biscuit is a tiny puppy, it’s the first time he’s really aware of his stature; so worried he’s going to accidentally squish the little guy while moving from the kitchen to the bedroom that when you call for your golden pup to come get dinner you’re a little concerned when you hear a tiny yap but no patter of paws on the floor; searching room after room you start to worry when the yaps are more excitable but there’s no puppy in sight until luke finds you in the living room, your brow furrowed in confusion as you ask if he’s seen your little boy and luke’s lips quirk into a triumphant grin, his head nodding proudly and when he steps closer to you and turns you see biscuit’s happy smile, his head sticking out of the big hoodie pocket luke has safely deposited him in like a kangaroo and her joey, ‘Didn’t wanna squish him.’

summer mornings with luke; your head buried in pillows, bodies engulfed in soft white cotton and the only sounds are the bustle of life outside and tiny snores tumbling from luke’s slightly open mouth. his nose bumps against your bare shoulder as he shifts quietly in his sleep subconsciously nuzzling his face against your skin; like a kitten stretching and contracting mid dream, his arm moves before it pulls you closer. the warmth of his skin on yours mirrors that of the mid morning sun lazily peeking into the room. you lean over to check your phone, somewhere in the stages between awake and sleep, quiet giggles leap from your mouth at a meme on twitter, the sound stirring luke just enough that the snores are replaced with a little laughter at you - soft and gruff. He stretches and huffs out a little groan before he nuzzles back into your shoulder without a word but you can feel he’s woken up, the slow rhythm of his dreaming breathing gone. so you link his fingers with yours and pull his arm tighter around you, leaving the burn of you lips in a little kiss to the back of his hand and he returns the gesture against your shoulder, gentle affections pushing you both back to sleep against the sun.

anonymous asked:

imagine you spending hours and hours on just a short story (who's main character just so happened to be based on luke), and luke is forever trying to peek over your shoulder to see what your writing but he is foiled every time by you slamming your laptop shut. then one afternoon he comes home from the studio early, and while you're still at classes, there's a nearly printed manuscript on the table, entitled 'today is the best day for loving you'. and there's a note from you on the first page. 1/

he picks it up to see what is scribbled in your handwriting: ‘to the person who once told me that today and everyday was the best day for loving me. i love you, today and everyday.’ he takes the weighty stack of paper over to the couch where he begins to read, and doesn’t stop until he hears the key rattle in the door. you come in, dumping your stuff as you walk towards him, and you look startled at the tears on his cheeks. he reaches for you and passes you the thumbed through manuscript. ‘you wrote me in your story?’ he buries his head in your sweater, and you comb your fingers through his hair gently as luke tries to get ahold of himself. ‘of course i did baby,’ you chuckle, 'you’re my muse. did you like it?’ he looks up at you and smiles, kissing you softly. 'i loved it, almost as much as i love you.’ then he looks out the window and back at you. 'today is a good day for loving you,’ he whispers, and it’s your turn to wipe tears away. 'everyday is a good day to love you.’

:-((( this made my heart ache in a fuzzy kinda way imagine