bless the front row

anonymous asked:

I love your writing! You do an amazing job! Could we get an Alpha Reaper with Omega mate for the A/B/O prompt #15-- Alpha scolding their mate for daring to walk, then they proceed to pick them up and bring them to lay them back down.

((Thank you anon <3))


Your voice was soft, tinged with sleep and hoarse from overuse during your heat the week before. Evidence of your heat still lingered in the air; the scent of pheromones, your mixed secretions and sweat hanging stubbornly about. You were half asleep when Gabriel had carefully moved you back into the bedroom, wrapping you in a clean scented sheets. Shifting, you could feel that last round of slick and cum had been cleaned away, the sharp scent of ointment a clear indicator that he had already treated your bruises and bites. A slow smile tugged at your lips as you remembered the whirlwind of the previous days, your heat spent in absolute rapture with Gabriel. Looking around the empty room, you doubted he had wandered too far.

During your heats you didn’t allow your Alpha to leave your side when conscious, but before and during the quarterly visits, Gabe stayed at your side to make sure all your needs were cared for. You adored this side of him, the one that hid under the hardass, that demanded that he take care of all of those around him. There were times you teased him and point out how kind and gentle and soft he was, earning an empty glare and a smirk. This was a Gabe everyone deserved to know but so few got the honor and you felt blessed to constantly have a front row seat.

You winced as you sat all the way up, pushing your legs over the edge of the bed, the inside of your thighs and hips protesting the movement. Snorting softly to yourself, you made a mental note to chastise Gabriel for how hard he had plowed into you completely ignoring that you had asked him first. Still, you pushed through the ache, setting your feet on the ground and pausing for another moment to get your bearings. You were absolutely parched, your ravished body demanding immediate sustenance. Your movements were slow and methodic, your hand going to scratch at your scalp yet finding your hair pulled back into a sloppy ponytail. Gabe really did think of everything. You’d have to remember to thank him when he was back.

Easing yourself all the way onto the floor, you waited until the shaking in your knees subsided before you took your first steps. Your hands groped at different items in the room for support;first the bed, then the nightstands, the wall, the door frame and then the hall wall. You just needed to make it to the bathroom where you knew there was a glass sitting next to the sink. A few more steps…You actually whined out loud when your left knee buckled, your shoulder bumping hard against the cold frame of the wall, cursing softly.  Water then immediately back to bed. Just a few more yards and then water and back to bed.

“Carino what’re you doing?”

You glanced over your shoulder, Gabriel’s brow was furrowed in concern, the man rushing forward from the top of the stairs to place his hand on the small of your back. His eyes looked you up and down for any sign of visible injury before he dipped down to sweep you into his arms. Your trill was high pitched and surprised, head twisting to look at Gabriel indignantly before receiving a quick growled response.

“You know damn well you aren’t supposed to walk after your heats”, Gabriel warned, leaning down and pressing a warning nip to your jawline when you tried to whine. “That’s why I found you ready to collapse, didn’t I?”

“I’m a grown woman Gabe”, you tried to argue back, before the Alpha sent you a warning look. “F-fine…”

You had to admit, leaning into Gabriel and nuzzling into the side of his neck and soaking in his scent was comforting, intoxicating. As he placed you back in bed he pinned you with a look before saying he would be right back, disappearing from the room for several moments. Your eyes went round when he returned, mouth watering.

“Thought you were still asleep”, he said, carrying two plates filled with your favorites. Eggs, corn pancakes, sausage and bananas, two water bottles tucked under his arm. “So I was trying to fix you something…if I thought you were gonna go AWOL on me, querida, I would have thrown you over my shoulder and took you downstairs with me.”

Reaching out for your plate your eyes lit up when he finally slid it into your hands, picking up a pancake with your bare hand and taking a bite.

“‘M sorry thank you”, you said around the food, practically moaning as the food filled your mouth. You smiled thankfully at him, giving him a soft, affectionate trill of happiness before swallowing and nodding towards his arm. “Water please?”

Apparently Men’s Fitness Magazine thought that Chris Pine looked so hot in this shot…

…that they needed to include it three times in the same magazine

Cheers and Goodbye, 2016!

I would like to thank and bid 2016 goodbye before I move on to 2017.

2016 was a blur. I honestly do not know where ¾ of 2016 went. It felt like I  blinked then it was already fall and the year was already wrapping up. 2016 has been a very hectic year but a good year. I lived and breathed work in 2016. However, I have no regrets as my job brings me a great sense of meaning and satisfaction.  I am most likely going to be as busy in my career in 2017 but I am excited to meet every challenge.

So how did I do in 2016?

Keep reading

trb nyc fan account

(this is going to be long, not in order, and bittersweet)

- namjoon was soo enthusiastic like he was pulling weird faces and dancing his heart out especially during hip hop lover and he looked so happy when he held the mic out to the audience  and we completed his raps 

- all of their english improved but yoongi was being rly cute about it and jimin said the word aspect i dont know wh y i remember that so clearly

- at one point jhope said something like “its really hot in here” and they all took off their jackets it was an experience

- jungkook was smiling and giggling the entire time during the talk breaks especially after he talked and even during performances he is so cute and tall

- hobi killed every single rap sdjkha and he sprayed the crowd with his water bottle and threw it into the crowd what a blessing 

- jimin was flirting soo much with the front row

Keep reading

I am bearing witness to the end of an era. I have the distinct blessing, or the agonizing misfortune of having front-row seats to the death throes of a creature that has defined a generation. This creature is what my buddies and I refer to as the Global War On Terror (GWOT for short). 13 years, thousands of lives, trillions of dollars, and two presidents later, those of us who contributed our very being to this endeavor are left thinking, “What now?”

On May 23, 2013, POTUS Obama declared the GWOT “over.” Just like that. Done. Finished. It felt to my brothers and I, that our purpose in life had just disappeared.

Of course, we knew that there are still things going on in the shadows of foreign policy. Smelly, bearded extremists are still getting shot in the face in far-off lands. But, to the majority of us who had spent our entire adult lives finding, fixing, and finishing, our jobs were apparently over. We had sacrificed marriages, seeing our kids grow up, watching our parents grow old, witnessed our brothers deaths, and lost limbs for a conflict that we didn’t start, but were damn sure going to finish. We had been involved so long that it became us. Sure, some of us got out and made strides in veteran’s advocacy, tactical efficiency and efficacy, community growth, technological advancements, and improving quality of life for the layperson at home (i.e. the Perfect Push-Up). This writing is not for them. This is talking about the guy that has cut his teeth and dodged bullets since he was 18 years old and now has to try to find a place in this world….a world without the GWOT.

A friend of mine once said, “PTSD is the realization that you will never be this cool again.” He was referring to being on deployment, toting guns, and generally being a hard-ass. He was kind of correct. Once you wash the dirt and grit off and put on a clean shirt, you’re out of place in the civilian world. No one gets your jokes. Everyone wonders why you’re so insensitive to the plights of celebrities and pro-ball players. People view you as a victim, someone that somehow got duped into joining the military and marching off to fight, only to come home with less friends and more nightmares. You go to work at your job thinking that whatever you do today will never matter as much as what you did over there. You will never work as hard in this cubicle, office, ambulance, bank, or courthouse, as you did in the killing fields. You have this little voice in the back of your head whispering, “You will never feel more alive. It doesn’t get any better than those days.” Sadly enough, a lot of veterans are heeding this voice and going home and killing themselves, either with a gun or with heroin and Hennessy. The suicide rate is an epidemic and the VA is a joke. Personally, in my non-solicited and ultimately meaningless opinion, I think this is largely due to the fact that a guy went over and put in work, to come home to a government that doesn’t support him, and a public that doesn’t appreciate him. We live in a society that puts more effort and emphasis on Justin-fucking-Bieber than their neighbor who lost his legs in Ramadi. It doesn’t feel good when the media is more ablaze in memoriam for a celebrity that OD’d on the shitter than Chris Kyle or more recently, Aaron Torian. It stings a little when the Commander in Chief makes more phone calls to his travel agent and “brave” basketball players than to the widows of the fallen. Bottom line: empty thanks and the obvious look of pity don’t do much for a guy that feels lost at home without his brothers or people that REALLY care. But, I digress.

The last troops in Iraq left with little fanfare. Under the guidance of an apologetic administration, they left that country with their ears back and their tails tucked. To the guys at home at the time, they could no longer point at the TV and say, “I was there.” Afghanistan seems to be heading the same direction. One big-ass circle. The Taliban are seizing ground again, poised to take power, and the troops (from MY vantage point) are just hanging out in the FOB’s eating Burger King and biding their time, and why shouldn’t they? Our strategy in this country has been telescoped so far that the enemy knows when we’re going home! Why go out and put foot to ass when the shot-clock is down to the final second? No one is truly invested in the war. Again, my opinion. Hell, a staggering amount of troops here were 9-10 years old on 9/11/2001! It wasn’t even a “real” event to them, but rather an occurrence, handed down to them by parents and teachers and history books. They have no clue why they’re here. The commands don’t seem to give a fuck about more than eye pro and glow belts. Karaoke night is priority numero uno. The ROE’s have been so neutered that they’ve become a detriment to the troops. Everyone is concerned about packing their shit and shipping out.

But, there are those of us that still feel we have more to contribute. There are those of us who aren’t meant for a desk. There are men in this world still willing to go out there, for whatever reason, and skull-fuck the enemies of the USA. But, is there really a place for us any more?

Some of us went back into the military, but are hitting the roadblocks associated with a large military drawdown. Some of us tried serving our communities, I myself became a paramedic, but grew bored rather quickly. Some of us went the PMC route, which is perfect to an extent. I get to tote guns and hang with the boys and count racks of cash. But, that world is dying down as well. My question is: “where do we go when the world no longer needs us?” What happens when the reason you got out of bed every morning for 12-13 years, isn’t there anymore? Especially when you know that the whole game was mishandled. It’s hard as fuck sitting back and watching the talking heads talk about the “mistakes” and the “futility” and asking “was it worth it?” when you have had to bury more friends than most people know their entire lives. It’s very sobering to think to yourself, “MY war is over.”

Maybe it’s the way it goes. Maybe, those of us that still have more to give, are destined to sit on porch in a rocking chair or a bar stool at the VFW and talk about the “good ol’ days” with our buddies. My fear is maybe we’re going the way of Gran Tourino. As much of a badass as Clint Eastwood’s character was in that movie, he was still a sad, bitter, old man. Another movie reference is the grocery store scene in “The Hurt Locker” (regardless of the movie, that scene was powerful).

My other fear is that the world will bury what we’ve done. The history books will refer to our endeavors the way I learned about Vietnam. The story I was told by my teachers was wildly different than the stories my father shared. His wasn’t stories of mistakes, his was a story of brotherhood and sacrifice. Thus is the divide in my generation. My brothers and I tell stories with passion and pride, and my non-serving peers think: what a waste of a life. It may have been a waste, time will tell, but it was a glorious waste. I “wasted” my life seeing the very best of a generation of MEN stand up and go do what was asked of them. I “wasted” my life in third-world shit-holes, knowing my brothers cared more about me than the girl at home. I “wasted” my life watching guys risk and give their lives for one another. I would not ask to “waste” my life any other way. I will also do it as long as I can. My only question, echoed by thousands of GWOT vets is: “what now?”

—  “When the Music Stops” - Grifter

anonymous asked:

the lolla people were trying to kick the boys off of the stage because their set was longer than expected to matty basically took his time getting off stage and then went into the crowd and touched hands with like every single person in the front row to piss them off

bless this band.

Concert report, Dublin, 17.10.2015

So, where to begin describing possibly one of the very best gigs I’ve ever been to (and I’ve been to a LOT of gigs!)? I think as the boys are about to go on stage for Dublin 3, I’ll be brief(ish), list-like and Louis focused (of course, and I make no apologies for this!).  

(This is really on behalf of me and my sister @LDN1dfan on Twitter - go follow her if you’re a tweeter.)

- The queue was cold (brrrr) and we sat/stood/jigged to warm up in it for 12 long hours before they let us in. Badly organised doesn’t even cover it. They closed the toilets at 3pm and so no one dared to drink anything from that point onwards. Little wonder I saw at least 30 girls being pulled out of the crowd later on. Madness. We met some lovely folks (hello) and some less lovely folks, but you’ll be glad to know the lovely folks prevailed and lined up next to us on front row. 
- Yes, FRONT ROW. We were front row on the left corner of the main stage and despite being more squashed than I have ever been in my life, it was EPIC. From the moment H pranced towards us during ‘Clouds’ we had so much interaction with the boys. Just brilliant. 
- Just before the gig Preston had wandered past us and chanted Donny Rovers at us as we were wearing DR shirts, and this was nothing compared to Louis’ reaction when he came over to our side of the stage for the 1st time. He immediately gave me the ‘I’m watching you’ hand/eye signal and then walked right to the end of the stage, leaned over us & blew us a kiss (does anyone have this on video??? Anyone??). I nearly died. 
- And so began a night of Louis-ness (is there any other kind of night, really?). He was so, so lovely. Sang to us, laughed at us (a lot), winked, posed for pictures…. How are we still alive? 
- After a good few songs L was on the catwalk looking back & waving my sister so she held up a sign we’d made in the q asking him to sign our shirts. Hilariously my sis was too busy being overwhelmed that it was upside down cue much hilarity as L tries to get her to turn it round. 
- In anticipation of him actually signing them, my sister took hers off so she could throw it on stage (she had a vest underneath, don’t worry!) & L noticed during Little Black Dress and as soon as the song finished came charging over to tell her to ‘bloody put it back on’!! He seemed personally offended that she was no longer rocking Donny Rover chic. She was filming at the time & just dropped my phone in shock (yes, my phone, my very expensive iphone!!). Hilarious video of that!
- A couple of songs later Niall (god bless you, Horan!) took matters into his own hands, saw our sign and asked us to throw our tops up. I’ve never taken a top off so quick in my life! He put them in a neat little pile for Lou with a pen (!). L was laughing ‘Niall, you bastard!’ and Niall was like ‘I’ve promised them now!’. Amazing. So, at the next break L signed them for us (’Louis, 28 xxx) & made sure they got back to us safely & then demanded we put them back on! I couldn’t be happier. We’d hoped he’d spot us in them but didn’t dare hope he’d actually sign them. I am so, so grateful. And Niall, I owe you a favour!!
- In other Louis news - he’s as absolutely glorious as ever. So, so beautiful. Funny, bantering, filming with his giant phone, so much interaction with the crowd. Loved being able to hear him off mic (telling Niall ‘I’ve lost me fucking phone, mate!’). He’s on such good form. He seems truly happy. Until some folks threw water at him. He retaliated and thew a whole bucket over them at the end of the show. Oops. 
- On a related note my sister has joined the dark (or sunshine?) side of the fandom and replaced her H blowing us a kiss photo on her phone home screen with L. That’s what our Louis interaction at the Apple Music Festival and a signed shirt will do for you. Such is the Tommo charm.
- Harry. Harry. HARRY. Looked amazing. Sounded even better. Have I mentioned I love that top? Draped himself over us. Loved having him sing ‘Perfect’ just in front of us. Bounced around as if there is nothing at all wrong with his foot. Watched on fondly as we lost our shit re L signing our shirts. Sang to whoever had the rainbow flag on the other side of the stage (hello! we say you!) and caught the flag, waved it & threw it back. Hilariously told us what he loves about Dublin. Tried to destroy my camera with his water throwing. I love him.
- Niall. I am so, so proud of Niall. He was in his absolute element. Everyone around us was there for Niall. The crowd loved him. He loved the crowd. ‘Act My Age’ was INSANE. 
- Liam is seriously rocking his vocals. Man, he sounded good. I have no idea what he & Lou were doing with that packet of biscuits (which hilariously said on them ‘For Louis, we love you. Not for you, Niall. ?!!!?!!!) but it seemed to amuse them greatly. They were so funny snapchatting.

All in all the best I have ever seen the boys. They seemed happy and well (broken bones aside) and looked like a team. I am so blessed to have been front row and shared that gig with them. I am bloody knackered but on an absolute high. Next stop: Sheffield (sob!).