but it turned out like crap

anonymous asked:

Initially having just a typical girls night with Nat and Wanda once a week/couple of times a month (ex face masks, junk food, gossip, etc) then slowly the guys one by one finding out about the girls night, and joining in, then eventually the whole team being a part of it and it becoming a regular self care thing. Also Tony being the last person to find out about them.

  • It first started as a one off. You and Nat had noticed that Wanda was having a rough day. 
  • You arrive at her room armed to the teeth with gossip magazines, junk good. Chick flick dvd and a bottle of Vodka.
  • It soon turned out that the three of you would live for your girl time.
  • It was only a matter of time that Nat would let slip to Clint what the three of you would do on a Sunday night. 
  • “Girl actually do that shit, like face masks and all that crap” 
  • “The homemade the better Barton, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.” 
  • The next Sunday Clint arrived at Wanda’s door. 
  • “Holy shit this stuff is amazing” Clint would marvel and Wanda’s face mask making skills. 
  • It wasn’t long until Sam and Steve started to notice something different about Clint. 
  • “Man you’re skin is so smooth” 
  • Clint would shrug saying offhandedly “(Y/N) got a new hydrating therapy face mask the other day. It’s actually really good”
  • Sam and Steve howling with laughter
  • “We’ll see whose laughing when you start getting wrinkles” 
  • The next girl’s night in Clint arrive with your next to victims. 
  • Having to supply more junk food because Sam and Steve ate all your supplies in the first five minutes.  
  • Wanda having to send Pietro to get them cause he’s the fastest. 
  • “If you get double stuffed Oreos, ONLY THEN will I give you a head massage. 
  • The guys were even more excited about Girls night then you Nat and Wanda were. 
  • When Bucky arrives you and Nat argue about what hair therapy mask to use on him.  
  • Eventually having to move out of Wanda’s room into the living room
  • Everyone looking forward to Sunday nights.
  • Forgetting that Tony had no clue this was an annual thing and him walking in on everyone with face masks, hair bands. Wanda paining Clint’s nails, you french braiding Bucky’s hair. Steve and Sam arguing about Sam getting the wrong flavoured Doritos and Nat and Pietro making cocktails.
  • “Cool ranch is the best Sam how can you not think that” 
  • Tony not questioning it and just causally sit’s down to inspect the face mask.
  • “So if have dry skin do I go with ultra hydrate or relaxing regenerating?  

Headcannon Hour

9

Have you ever found yourself wanting a metric ton of DAI music? Have you ever thought to yourself, aw man, DAI’s soundtrack was 15 hours shorter than I wanted it to be? If that sounds like you, then this is a link for you.

I’ve ripped all the music from this game - that is, all the ambient snippets of music that you hear while running around in the world, and all the music that happens in cutscenes - and it turns out there’s 16 hours (1.6 gigs) of it.

(- here’s the download link -)

So if you’ve found yourself wishing you had the heaps of music that never made it to the official soundtrack, you can now roll around in hours of it. 

My name is Tyler, and I wanted to start a band, so I picked a name, a logo, and wrote and recorded songs in my basement. I really had no idea what I was doing. All I knew was that music did something to me. What I DID know was that I needed help bringing the songs to life on stage. Then I met Josh, a kid with no plan B. He lived and breathed plan A: music. And I liked that he beat the crap out of his instrument.


Then we played shows, all kinds of shows. It never really was discussed, we just knew we had no choice but to play with as much conviction for 5 people as we would for 5,000. We wanted our shows to be more about others than about ourselves, creating an unpredictable but always beautiful dance with the people in the crowd. Honesty and authenticity works, and, as it turns out, people wanna be a part of that.

9,765. Turns out it doesn’t take a million likes to get the music industry’s attention.


On November 19th, 2011, we played in front of a sold out hometown for 1700 of our most dedicated fans in Columbus, Ohio. A few years of hard work materialized into one night, our fans were the first local fan base to ever sell the place out to that
capacity. I don’t know exactly how it happened, but after that night people from 'the industry’ started asking the question, ‘What’s going on in Ohio?’


The next 3 months were the craziest months of our lives. Out of nowhere, we had a dozen labels interested in our small local band, taking us completely off guard. We had questions: Would we lose creative control? Would we be turned into something
we are not? Can we keep doing what we are doing, the way we were doing it? Are we selling out? Encouraged by the answers to those questions, we signed a record deal called Fueled By Ramen. A record deal!


Tonight, 5 months later, we are back in Columbus to explain the incredible news to the people who deserve to hear it first. But it’s just the beginning. We cannot wait to see what the future holds for us
and our fans. And to them we say: We never got a big break. You created our big break. Thank you.


So if you are pursuing your dreams, pursuing what it is you are passionate about, I hope this story encourages you. And if you know someone who is, encourage them with this: Don’t give up. Push through the droughts. Channel the inevitable disappointments back into your craft. Break molds. Think. Create. But most importantly: Stay alive. And in the meantime, make it about others. That seems to work. Stay strong, live on, and power to the local dreamer.

—  Tyler Joseph, after being signed by Fueled by Ramen with Josh Dun.

I exist. It’s sweet, so sweet, so slow. And light: you’d think it floated all by itself. It stirs. It brushes by me, melts and vanishes. Gently, gently. There is bubbling water in my mouth. I swallow. It slides down my throat, it caresses me – and now it comes up again into my mouth. For ever I shall have a little pool of whitish water in my mouth – lying low – grazing my tongue. And this pool is still me. And the tongue. And the throat is me. 

I see my hand spread out on the table. It lives – it is me. It opens, the fingers open and point. It is lying on its back. It shows me its fat belly. It looks like an animal turned upside down. The fingers are the paws. I amuse myself by moving them very rapidly, like the claws of a crab which has fallen on its back.

…It would be much better if I could only stop thinking. Thoughts are the dullest things. Duller than flesh. They stretch out and there’s no end to them and they leave a funny taste in the mouth. Then there are words, inside the thoughts, unfinished words, a sketchy sentence which constantly returns…It goes, it goes…and there’s no end to it. It’s worse than the rest because I feel responsible and have complicity in it. For example, this sort of painful rumination: I exist, I am the one who keeps it up. I. The body lives by itself once it has begun. But thought – I am the one who continues it, unrolls it. I exist. How serpentine this feeling of existing – I unwind it, slowly…If I could keep myself from thinking! I try, and succeed: my head seems to fill with smoke…and then it starts again: “Smoke…not to think…don’t want to think…I think I don’t want to think. I mustn’t think that I don’t want to think. Because that’s still a thought. Will there never be an end to it?

My thought is me: that’s why I can’t stop. I exist because I think…and I can’t stop myself from thinking. At this very moment  – it’s frightful – if I exist, it is because I am horrified at existing. I am the one who pulls myself from the nothingness to which I aspire: the hatred, the disgust of existing, there are as many ways to make myself exist, to thrust myself into existence. Thought are born at the back of me, like sudden giddiness, I feel them being born behind my head…if I yield, and I always yield, the thought grows and grows and there it is, immense, filling me completely and renewing my existence.

—  Nausea, Jean Paul Sartre

a little winter Shiro doodle to help calm my nerves

Promise

Okay, legitimate question time about Hogwarts’ Hospital Wing and what actually necessitates a visit to St Mungos.

  • Petrified by a basilisk? Nah. It may take all year, but we’ll just keep them here, sorry muggle parents.
  • Turned into an anthromorphic cat? No worries! Pomfrey will figure it out. Eventually.
  • Nearly killed by Department of Mysteries miscellany and numerous Death Eaters? They’re fiiiine.
  • Possessed by Voldemort for nearly a year? Dumbledore says all you need is a nap, stop whining.
  • Ravaged my an un-turned werewolf? Like St Mungos would know what to do, Mrs W just give Fleur that salve already.
  • Cursed by a necklace? No tha– oh, crap. Yes alright, take her to Mungos.

Damn, Poppy Pomfrey has her hands full.

Keith unintentionally spies on Lance in the training room  … (Part Four)

where the Blue Paladin is kicking ass. And Keith’s kind of mesmerized by it. Then he’s more than mesmerized — he’s freaking out because he’s actually kinda sorta into this brutally efficient soldier version of Lance.

(Part One Here) (Part Two Here) (Part Three Here)

Lance doesn’t reply to Keith’s question, walking past him, making to leave the room, but Keith grabs his arm before he’s too far out of reach.

This immediately feels like an extremely bad idea, (even with the flight suit acting as a barrier, the warmth of the taller boy’s skin radiates into Keith’s palm, and holy crap, since when did Lance have such firm biceps?), but it’s too late now — the Blue Paladin turns back to look at him, and, for once, Keith can’t read his expression.

Lance doesn’t attempt to break Keith’s grip. Instead, he sighs and says, “Forget it, man, it’s fine, I’m just … frustrated because we had a close call —”

“You mean since I had a close call?” Keith is pretty sure he’s hitting the nail on the head — Lance flinches, though his face remains inscrutable. Keith’s hand slides down to loosely grasp Lance’s wrist, to hold him in place as he finally gives in and explains.

“Fine, yeah, because you got stabbed in the back, because I wasn’t fast enough. I can’t afford to be that slow, and not just for you, but for Hunk and Pidge and Shiro … I can’t let you guys down.”

And this is something Keith understands. This is largely the reason why Keith spends hours in this very room, working until his muscles beg for mercy; he has to do better, he has to ensure that he’s prepared for any eventuality.

In this, he and Lance are alike.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Keith says quietly, and he knows it won’t help, but it needs to be said. “Things happen in battle, we can’t be everywhere at once —”

“But I was there, Keith. I was there, and I raised my rifle, but too late, and I just, I can’t do that again.” Lance swallows and then tries for a smile. “Besides, so worth it just to kick your ass in this. Four whole minutes, huh?”

“Actually more like three and a half,” Keith corrects him, though he smiles back easily. “But fair enough. In this, you did actually kick my ass.”

Lance gapes at him. “You know, I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to this new, nicer Keith. Did getting in touch with your Galra heritage provide you with some zen? What’s the deal?”

“First off, I’ve always been nice, you’re just a jackass that likes to push my buttons,” Keith argues, and somehow he’s still smiling at Lance … and still holding his wrist. “And secondly, there’s no deal — we’re part of the same team, I can’t actually hate you. It’s bad for morale or something. Bad for forming Voltron, at least.”

“Ah hah!” Lance actually drops the pieces of his armour to point. Keith can’t help but notice that the Blue Paladin could have used the hand Keith was currently grasping by the wrist, but he didn’t. “We could form Voltron before you started being nice to me, so that means you liked me then too!”

“Um, yes? It was you that decided to make me your rival, I had nothing to do with that!” Keith is somehow in Lance’s personal space — when the hell had that happened? Also, he should really let go of his wrist now. “I couldn’t hate you — I didn’t even remember you.”

Lance rolls his eyes. “Yeah, you did, just not right then while we were rescuing Shiro. And it’s not like you didn’t take the chance to try and beat me every single time since then, dude. Maybe I was the one that kicked off the rivalry, but you sure as hell took it and ran with it — made a race out of it, even.”

The Blue Paladin had shuffled forward a few steps. Keith blinks, staring straight into blue eyes that are far closer than they had been a few seconds ago. He feels sweat forming along his cooled skin again. Especially on the hand that … is sliding down Lance’s wrist and oh no, is he trying to hold his hand now?! Abort. End mission. Failsafe, emergency exit, push the eject button …

Lance’s fingers shake slightly as they wrap around Keith’s.

And quite suddenly, they are both silent, awkwardly so, but neither of them are stepping away. Neither of them are letting go of the other’s hand.

When Keith can’t bear the silence any longer, he opens his mouth to say something (he has no idea what), but Lance beats him to it — in spades.

“Keith, if you’re going to hold my hand, I gotta tell you that I’m the kind of person that takes that kind of thing as a signal. And that you’re doing the signaling is sort of weird, since you’re you, but if you are giving me a sign, lemme say that you are actually one of the coolest people I know and if I could, like, earn the honour of holding your hand on a daily basis that would be pretty freaking fantastic, and I’m sorry I only realized this after you nearly died, but damn it, I’m sort of head over heels for your emo mullet.”

Lance sounds more out of breath by the end of that tirade than he did after running one of the hardest battle simulations Keith had designed.

And, much like with a battle sim, Keith follows his instincts on what to do next.

Author’s note: Well, that’s another part down. Man, not planning this ahead of time means I actually have no clue what they’re gonna say or do … 

And here is the Fifth and Final Part

Hope you enjoy, and thank you so much for reading  :)

some oddly specific aus for you to consider
  • “please restrain your slightly tipsy friend from hitting on my sister” au
  • “you always come into the coffeehouse i work at and you’re a huge jerk so i decide to finally leave a rude message on your cup one day but oops it turns out you’re the vice president of a huge company” au (bonus points if the server has a friend who works at the company)
  • “you work in IT and i keep calling you partially because you’re cute and i like talking to you but also because i’m literally so awful with technology please help me” au
  • “we’re on the school baseball team together and i’m a terrible player but you’re really awesome at it and would you stop winking at me whenever you go up to bat” au
  • “for some reason station management refuses to fix our scheduling issues so our radio shows have conflicting times but you’re really hot and now i’m even more annoyed” au
  • “i am so lost in this foreign country and you’re the only person i’ve met who speaks the same language as me so i’m just gonna stick with you for now” au

on a lonely night,

was a blinding light.

a hundred leaders would be borne of you.

it’s been a while since i last drew kagepro, i miss my daughter aND NOW SHE FINALLY GETS A BOOK I AM SO HAPPY

plus jin coming up with a new song while writing her pov can’t just be a coincidence, maybe she’ll get an actual song now??? with a pv?!??

  • What he says: Juvia is a missed opportunity.
  • What he means: Juvia by all rights should be one of the most dangerous, overpowered characters in the entire goddamn manga, bar very, very few. She can turn her entire body, brain and all, into water, along with anyone she chooses to bring along. She can nullify almost any attack aimed at her. She should be able to perfectly infiltrate any fortress, beat the crap out of the strongest wizards, and perfectly imitate anyone she chooses to appear as. Hell, cause a fucking tsunami. Let's see how God Serena or whoever the fuck likes it when the sea itself jumps up and slams its watery body down on him at 500 mph. But no, almost none of this potential is ever explored. As she says, when given the proper amount of force, water is strong enough to rip through steel.

anonymous asked:

stories i wish you would write - sam has died and is in heaven, gabe isn't there because the dufus thinks sam would be with jess, cue someone (Cas?) finding gabe and telling him what's what, leading to gabe in sam's heaven. `where ever jess's heaven is i'm sure she's happy with the me i was then but i'm different now and i want you gabe`.

I somehow kept missing this in my inbox and I am so sorry but can I just say that WOOOOOW YOU ARE KILLING ME THIS IS EQUAL PARTS BEAUTIFUL AND HEARTWRENCHING DEAR GOD H E L P.

Can you imagine the sorrow that overwhelms Gabriel once Sam takes his final breath, watching helplessly as his soul lifts from his body and rises to Heaven, all while knowing he can do nothing but just let it happen? 

Gabriel’s Grace feels physically flayed and in shreds the moment he realizes that he can never be in Sam’s Heaven because Sam loved - loves - Jessica Moore, and Jesus of course Sam would want to be with her in his Heaven. What place did Gabriel have, what right did he possess, to intrude on Sam’s happiness? Even if it didn’t include him?

Gabriel slowly fades away, broken, eyes blood-shot and wet, before Sam could fully settle into his Heaven. He doesn’t want to watch that. Sam was in Heaven. Sam was home, and he was going to be with Jessica soon. He loves Sam, but he has no desire to see Sam love someone else.

Sam and Dean share a Heaven, but maintain their own slice within. Kind of like roommates sharing a humongous house. Dean’s Heaven had Castiel, the seraph refusing to leave Dean even in death. 

Sam is happy for them. He is. But even with this, laughing and conversing with Dean and Castiel over a beer, exchanging witty banter with Bobby as the older hunter taught him how to fix up his truck, his parents checking in every so often, throwing a tennis ball in the lake for Bones to chase… 

Something is missing. Someone is missing.

Gabriel is missing.

Sam tries not to let it bother him, because Gabriel had made it clear on Earth that returning to Heaven was something the archangel would not do. Sam tries not to hurt over the fact that not even he was enough reason for Gabriel to return, not even to pay Sam a visit. Sam tries not to think that maybe he wasn’t as important to Gabriel as Gabriel was to him, that Gabriel didn’t love him as much…

Hiding your feelings is harder to do in Heaven than it was on Earth; everyone could see your soul, see how it lit up with happiness, see how it darkened with sadness. Hiding your feelings from an angel was impossible. Castiel sees the dark thoughts roaming in Sam’s mind, sees how his Heaven was not complete.

He lets Dean know where he’s doing before he takes off in search of Gabriel. He knows better than to assume that Gabriel would be in Heaven, so he searches the Earth. It takes a surprisingly short time; Castiel finds Gabriel kneeling before Sam’s gravestone, his head bowed and his eyes closed.

It takes a while, but Castiel finally manages to get through to Gabriel. The archangel steels himself and finally, finally flies back into Heaven. He’s greeted with so many voices, so many angels rejoicing and shocked over his presence in Heaven, but the only one that matters is that choked, cracked voice of Sam’s that rushes out in a disbelieving breath before Sam crashed into him, his arms tight and warm around Gabriel. 

And all Gabriel can do is hug him back and try to talk through his tears, saying over and over again just how sorry he is, but he couldn’t bear seeing Sam in Heaven with Jessica and fuck he was so selfish and wants Sam all to himself, but Sam deserves to have his Heaven and if Gabriel isn’t a part of that then - 

This is when Sam cuts in with a mumbled ‘moron’ against Gabriel’s lips, and he smiles into the gentle kiss he’s giving Gabriel, mouthing the rest of the words that say that wherever Jessica is in Heaven, she is with the Sam from her memories. The Sam Winchester that Jessica remembers isn’t who he is now. 

Right now, Sam kisses Gabriel harder, murmuring how he wants and needs and loves Gabriel, and he knows now that he wants Gabriel for the eternity he spends in Heaven. 

Gabriel had long since disassociated the terms ‘Heaven’ and ‘home.’ But here, kissing Sam, he’s never felt them more connected.

What do you wish I would write?

Property Of Vagabond

But like what if Ray came home one day with “Property Of Vagabond” tatted on his shoulder.

And Ryan sees it and immediately goes on and on about how it’s permanent and how he’s going to regret it. Ryan is adamant about telling Ray it was stupid and put a bullseye on its head because the tattoo is basically saying that vagabond would care if his property was taken. (And let’s face it, Ray is his weak spot)

Ray won’t take his crap though and wears it proudly because he likes showing off he’s his. Plus the tattoo looks good af on him.

(But Ryan knows he secretly likes Ray’s ink. He loves it especially when Ray has the tattoo visible while they are out in the clubs and getting drinks with the rest of FAHC. That way the onlookers who give Ray lustful looks take one look at the tattoo and turn away frightened out of their fucking minds.)

((Ray knows Ryan loves it, thus keeping the tattoo always visible))