couples who make out around you

anonymous asked:

Did you see john Oliver make fun of hiddleswift? People still remember it and people will continue to make fun of them if they decide to come back out as a couple. It'll be interesting how they go about it if they do if people today are still making fun of it like John and Samantha Bee

We live in a world where it’s popular and funny and to take down good people. We wonder why our world is like it is, but all you have to do is look around at each other, the media, even these activist celebrities and see how they take pleasure in hurting people, especially people who came across “perfect”. It’s like you have to have obvious flaws or issues to be authentic. When there are just good, decent people, who have been lucky enough to not have many problems in their lives.

People always fall in love with the most perfect aspects of each other’s personalities. Who wouldn’t? Anybody can love the most wonderful parts of another person. But that’s not the clever trick. The really clever trick is this: Can you accept the flaws? Can you look at your partner’s faults honestly and say, ‘I can work around that. I can make something out of it.’? Because the good stuff is always going to be there, and it’s always going to pretty and sparkly, but the crap underneath can ruin you.
—  Elizabeth Gilbert, Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace with Marriage
I’m going to tell you something: thoughts are never honest. Emotions are. Do not go around asking for honesty in what people think; much of what they perceive as thinking is empty anyway because it’s thought out again and again and comes out refined and muddy. The ones who know how to feel might have to say to you a couple of interesting things or not and when they do that, you ought to know how to listen. So learn how to listen. You can’t make someone open up about their feelings in case they don’t want to. But you can remain open yourself through listening deeply and completely; they might want to talk about the weather and keep it simple — allow them to feel the simplicity…Emotion pours out directly or indirectly each time people engage themselves in the process of genuine interaction.
—  Albert Camus, Notebooks 1951-1959
I’m going to tell you something: thoughts are never honest. Emotions are. Do not go around asking for honesty in what people think; much of what they perceive as thinking is empty anyway because it’s thought out again and again and comes out refined and muddy. The ones who know how to feel might have to say to you a couple of interesting things or not and when they do that, you ought to know how to listen. So learn how to listen. You can’t make someone open up about their feelings in case they don’t want to. But you can remain open yourself through listening deeply and completely; they might want to talk about the weather and keep it simple — allow them to feel the simplicity…Emotion pours out directly or indirectly each time people engage themselves in the process of genuine interaction.
—  Albert Camus
All I Want for Christmas is You - Dean Ambrose X Reader

Since I am Ambrose Trash I need some fluff to hold me off til Christmas. So Merry Christmas to all of my followers, and those who don’t celebrate..happy holidays ♥ I am also sorry that it is short..

Tagging: @ambrose-asylum-ft-mitch @somewhereovertheraynebow @xxmandarxx

Originally posted by deandeeds

You sit there on your big queen size bed. Rolls of Christmas themed paper litter the spots around you. You sigh as you gently fold a pair of blue jeans and place them in a gift box. Christmas music quietly plays out of your phones speaker. It was another Christmas Eve without Dean. 

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anonymous asked:

can you do 4.?

“I’m too sober for this.”

Spring break was supposed to be fun.  The pack had rented a house on the beach and there was going to be a lot of alcohol and hot people and Stiles was excited.

They got to the house, practically jumping out of their cars as they ran up to the house.

One by one the couples were claiming bedrooms and by the time Stiles got upstairs, all the rooms were taken.

“Uh guys? Who did the final booking on this house? You failed to make sure there were enough rooms for us all!” Stiles called out.

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Mummy’s Here

Originally posted by hardyness

The workshop was…well…cramped to say the least. A couple of occamy’s were set to hatch any minute now and Newt was bustling around making sure that they would be fed and loved the moment their tiny faces emerged from their silvery eggs. It was mayhem.

Coming back with an empty bucket after having fed the Graphorns, I gently swung open the workshop door just in time to see a couple of books topple from the shelves. I sighed and began to shoo away Dougal who had been attempting to climb up the stairs and out the case to find Newt.

“I know the Occamy’s are going to hatch soon and I know you’re excited but you can’t just leave whenever you feel like it to find Newt.” I told Dougal while gently reaching out to pick up the Demiguise. “Besides, he’ll be home soon and then you can voice your concerns.”

The Demiguise did not seem happy at the idea of waiting for Newt to come home, but let me him outside the workshop and put him right next to the Occamy nest. I returned to the workshop and began to pick up the books that the creature had knocked over. After finishing with the books, I began to rearrange some of the plants growing and watered them for good measure. I then washed the bucket out so it wouldn’t smell and was just about the leave the workshop to go check on Dougal when I heard the pattering of feet coming down the stairs. I turned and smiled as Newt appeared from the steps with a big bag of things.


“Just some extra things to restock our potions pantry and also some extra things for the Occamy’s.” He replied as he began to unpack the bag and put the ingredients into their respective spots.

“Dougal was in here earlier,” I told him and he raised his eyebrows.

“Oh, was he now?”

“Yes. He’s very concerned about the Occamy’s and wants you to go stand watching them with him until they hatch.” I laughed, “I would go check on him, but now that you’re here I’m going to go play with the Bowtruckles.”

“Oh always leaving me with the hard jobs I see,” Newt grinned as he stepped out of the workshop behind me and headed towards the Occamy’s. I heard him loudly talking to Dougal about when he thought that the Occamy’s were going to hatch. I rolled my eyes as I stood in front of the Bowtruckles.

“Hello everyone!” I told all the little stick creatures and a few waved back at me. I giggled and began to pick a few of them up and watch them walk on my fingers before returning to their tree. I entertained myself with this for a while, but eventually got distracted by the Fwooper and began to pet its bright pink head. “Hello pretty bird,” I told it as I scratched its head. It shook me off, apparently not in the mood for petting so I began to just wander around different enclosures, saying hello to all the animals.

“Y/N! Come quick!” I heard Newt’s voice echo throughout the case, and I turned and ran towards the Occamy’s.

“What’s wrong? What do you need?” I asked breathily while looking at Newt holding an egg.

“C’mere,” He almost whispered, completely entranced by the egg. I walked around to stand behind him and saw a little crack in the egg. I crouched down besides him and looked at the egg intently as I had never seen an Occamy hatch before. A few more cracks begin to appear on the egg and suddenly a little beak had broken out of the egg.

“This is amazing,” I gasped softly; Newt smiled and nodded while still looking at the egg. The egg broke even more and a little Occamy head poked out of it and looked at the both of us.

“Don’t worry little one, Mummy’s here.” Newt told the baby softly as he allowed it to wrap itself around his arm and he gently set it back in the nest. I peered into the nest, this was the first little Occamy baby to hatch and it began to make soft little noises.

“If you’re it’s Mummy, does that mean I’m its dad?” I asked jokingly as I turned to look back at him, Newt grinned at me.

Peering into the nest he again spoke softly, “Don’t worry Mummy’s here little one.” He looked at me with a smile and said, “And Daddy’s here too.”

A/N if you have any fun ideas for a Fantastic Beasts imagine lemme know and shoot me a fun ask and I’ll write it! Have a great day/night! :)

The Angel and The Shepherd - Luke Hemmings [SMUT]

12 Days of 5SOS ~ Day two

Summary~ Meeting at a Christmas Party is one thing but a Christmas Costume Party just complicates things, especially since it turns out that the nativity shepherd you bump into is someone you already know

Word Count - 1168

Your expectation for this Hollywood Christmas party was a couple horny Santas, some weirdo who dressed as Jesus and a bunch of slutty elves wandering around in the same online shopping costumes. That’s not what you got. There’s a huddle of North stars smoking pot in the corner, Mary and Joseph stopped by for a couple beers and the front end of the donkey is throwing up in the garden while the back end is making out with a candy cane in the cloak room. You’re bizarrely sober for 11pm and surprisingly arm for someone dressed in entirely white.

“Guys I’m gonna step outside,” you nod to your friends, “Well, actually I might just head home”

They show no interest to you so you sigh and begin moving towards the door, shuffling through the crowd. You reach for the doorhandle to the front door and stop when it opens without a touch, and there on the other side is a nativity shepherd equipt with a fake beard and linen robe.

“Woah there angel, slow your roll,” he stops you with an awkward chuckle looking you up and down.

“A-angel?” you question.

“As in.. Gabriel..? That is what you’ve come dressed as right?”

“Oh yeah! That’s right, sorry, I’ve just been getting a lot of cheesy pickup lines,” you scratch your head.

“That’s okay, I get why that’d be happening but I’m not great at picking up girls..” you smile not knowing what to say to him so he adds, “As you can see I’m one of the shepherds that. followed the.. star? I don’t really know I’m not fully run down on the story of the nativity”

You giggle. Just then his friends, or at least you assume as they’re dressed almost identically, push past him and you in the doorway chuckling to each other.

“Dude, that’s mistletoe,” the last one says nudging him a little.

Looking up both of you see that he, in fact, isn’t lying and above your head is a delicately hung sprig of mistletoe.

“We’ve got to abide by those rules right?” he questions.

You smile a little, his lips already inching towards you but you don’t seem to mind as, even behind the fake beard you can sort of tell he’s cute. It’s only a peck but after that, you don’t really want to leave.

He coughs, shuffling you out of the path of the mistletoe, “So where you headed?”

He sips a beer you didn’t know he had and you reply, “I was heading home”

“What?” he questions. “Come on, stick around, could be fun”

You try to look hesitant but smile, “Go on then, amuse me”

Soon you find yourself sat with him on the sofa chatting away, still wearing the beard, disguising his face. As the party continues more and more people show up only adding to the hype and  eventually, your only way of escaping either being crushed or having a drink spilled on you is disappearing into one of the bedrooms upstairs.

“Jesus it’s hot out there,” he says as you sit down on the bed.

He peels the beard off and throws it across the room, showing his face for the first time. He has a stubble beard, blue eyes, and a button nose, but his face in general rings all too many bells.

“I know you..” you suddenly say.

“Well we have been talking the whole night,” he furrows his brow.

“What did you say your name was again?” you ask.

“Luke.” he seems notably confused at this stage.

“Luke.. Luke..” you repeat only weirding him out more. “Luke!”

“Finally figured something out there have you?” he tries to laugh.

“You’re the asshole that tied my shoelaces together everyday in third grade!” you exclaim now somewhat beyond angry.

“Oh yeah, hey,” he laughs loudly.

“Don’t hey me, I hated you, you humiliated me daily, the day you moved schools I practically threw a party,” you smile somehow still angry.

“Come on that was over a decade ago, you can’t be that good at holding grudges,” he folds his arms.

“I can oh my god,” your smiles fades, “I don’t get how I can be so angry about that still, to think I nearly-” you stop yourself from continuing.

“You nearly what?”

“Nothing,” you forcefully respond.

“No, what would you nearly have done?” he seems persistent.

You shoot him a glance, “You don’t need me to finish that you ass”

He sniggers and starts moving a little closer, “I think you might”

You bite your tongue and watch him get closer and closer until his hands grip your hips nd he pulls you into him, pressing his lips to yours. You kiss back almost instantly, your hatred for him only adding passion. Your hands snake around his neck and pull him closer until there’s no space between the two of you. 

Slowly you both walk backward towards the bed until you’re straddling him, your bodies working against each other. A low groan escapes his lips when you turn your attention to his neck, finding a sweet spot below his ear to leave a dark mark. You can already feel yourself getting turned on and from the tension in his jeans, you can tell he is too.

“Fuck,” he breathes deeply, his hands now massaging and your thighs and to your waist, under your dress.

You pull away which confuses him at first but then you surprise him by pulling your dress over your head, leaving you only with a matching set of black lingerie.

“Shit,” he says in shock.

“Shh..” you smile at his response but shut him up by kissing him again.

You let your fingers work on untying the sheets of his costume until they pretty much all fall leaving him in just his pale wash jeans. You fiddle with his jeans which only gets him more worked up to the extent that once you finally undo the fly he flips you over onto the bed and shimmies out of his jeans.

The both of you become acutely aware of how hot and heavy the room has become, the new addition of skin against skin only adding to it.

“You don’t need to do this,” Luke’s eyes find yours.

“I want to”

With that confirmation, he slides your underwear off which gives you the chance to hook your legs around him and get him out of his boxers. He groans at the unclothed contact and soon he eases into you, your back arching into the bed and head falling back into the pillows as you stop yourself crying out.

An endless stream of curses passes his lips as he gets you to your climax, tensing as you fall over the edge with one loud moan of his name. He follows fast behind you and falls onto the stranger’s bed breathless.

After a short silence you turn to him and throw his shepherd sheets at him, “At least we can use your costume as covers”


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Masterlist // Request

Another Ride - Chapter 1: Waiting

Thus begins my James and Sharna all star season multi-chapter fic! I have no clue how long it’Il be and I only have very rough outlines through chapter 7, so it’s going to be a lot of what just comes to me as I write. I hope it’s everything you wanted and more!

Sharna was nervous.

No. Forget nervous. She was terrified out of her mind.

No one would tell her who it was, though everyone seemed to know but her. With the way everyone kept grinning at her throughout the day, she could certainly narrow it down and make a couple guesses. But no one would say a word. Even Val wouldn’t tell her and he was the worst secret keeper around.

“There you are!” She had been searching for Val at the studio since she got there early that morning. She found him alone in one of the rehearsal rooms.

“No,” he told her dramatically, pointing a finger at her warningly. “Don’t even think about it.”

“But I’m losing my mind!” she said, hurrying up to him and grabbing his arm. “Come on! I know you know! Maks told me you knew, but he wouldn’t say anything either!”

“I’ve been sworn to secrecy,” Val said, shaking his head and crossing his arms defiantly. “He’ll kill me if I tell you.”

“Who? Maks?” Sharna gasped. “You mean my partner? He told you?!”

Val smiled and Sharna smacked him hard on the arm. Val stepped back from her, holding his hands up to shield himself. “It’s not my fault I know and you don’t. Trust me. It’ll be so much better as a surprise.”

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Jack Maynard - Pool

A/N: Hey guys, this is my first imagine here on this blog. I was inspired by the marshmallow video Joe filmed with Oli and Casper. Hope you enjoy! And feel free to send in your requests!

Word count: 1109

“C’mon now! Get your buttocks here then”, Joe called out to you and Jack, who were stood at the other end of the pool goofing around. The lot of you were at LA at the moment. You were staying with the whole lot as well as Mikey’s girlfriend and a couple of other mates in the huge summer house. They were trying to make the most of the free time to film some quick videos. You were with Jack and Oli filming for Joe’s channel.

“No Jack you really had better not”, you squealed as he tried to push you into the pool.

“Afraid of a little splash eh?” he continued tickling you closer to the pool.

“No you really can’t. I can’t-”, you got cut off by Joe who yelled at the both of you again.

“Oi! Trying to film a video here. Either get out or sit down”, he scrunched his face up as he called out, so you knew he was not really upset with you. Either way you took this chance to run back to Joe and Oli who were sat by the pool chairs while Jack had loosened his grip on you. Dressed in your black AA one-piece bathing suit and a pair of cut-offs, you couldn’t help but notice the looks Jack kept giving you when he thought you were not looking. It made you feel a little self-conscious but at the same time also more confident. “OLI WHAT THE HELL! You’ve never heard of them?” you laughed as Oli was at a lost the majority of this game.

“Bloody hell (Y/N) I bet you’ve cheated” Oli grumbled out. You’ve just finished the game and you had beaten all three boys, but Oli had lost sourly. You tried to defend yourself through the laughs that were escaping. “I swear, how could I cheated. Don’t be sore loser Oli”, you teased.

Jack tickled you causing you to squirm under his grip before Oli joined in the attack. Joe had reappeared with a pool noodle filled with water and proceeded to attack you. You let out loud squeals of laughter as the three boys attacked you with water toys and tickled you to the death. Suddenly the water ceased, and you felt the boys loosen their grip. You tried to clear the water from your eyes and nose so you could see what was going on, but before you could, you felt yourself being lifted off the ground.

“NO NO DON’T PLEASE GUYS!” you tried to yell out amidst the coughs. “I swear I’ll kill you all!” The last thing you heard was laughs from the boys before they threw you into the pool. You struggled to breathe with all the water that was rushing up your nose and down your lungs. Not being able to open your eyes in chlorine water, you could not see a thing. You tried to just make your way up to the surface but you were too disoriented.

The boys’ laughter died down as soon as they realised you’ve been underwater for too long. Jack’s face paled, and panic started to fill him. He looked fearfully to Joe and Oli and turning back to you, he dived straight into the pool. His heart beat quickened when he noticed your arms and legs flailing around, and your hair a mess as you shook your head. Rushing towards you he pulled you up and brought you to the edge of the pool. The boys rushed over as Jack laid you down by the pool. Jack had one arm resting under your head, the other was tightly squeezing your hand. Horror and guilt was written across Joe and Oli’s faces as they kept stuttering apologies to you and Jack amongst other things. Jack’s face held a mixture of worry, guilt and anger all at once. He knew it was not the boys fault, but he could not think straight at the moment.

“Shit Jack I had no idea mate”

“(Y/N) I’m so sorry I really didn’t know”

“She breathing alright?”

“She’ll be fine mate- look”

Just then your coughing slowed down and you could open your eyes a little. “(Y/N)”, Jack breathed out raggedly.

“I’m okay really. Sorry if I gave y’all a scare”, you said once your throat cleared up. At that you felt Jack rest his head on your stomach as he tried to calm himself down.

“Y-your sorry? It was all us (Y/N). Nothing’s on you!” you heard Joe’s voice.

“Yeah (Y/N) we’re really sorry. We thought you just didn’t want to be thrown in. We didn’t think you actually couldn’t swim”, Oli’s face was still pale and he looked fairly scared. The fear was from the fact that you had just about nearly drowned and he was the cause of it. And also because he now feared Jack would kill him. “I can swim”, this caused a look of confusion to form on their faces. You continued before they could ask more questions, “I can swim fairly well. I just can’t see underwater. Especially in chlorine water. Plus, I kinda just chocked up then.”

“You’re okay now then?”, Jack lifted his head up to look at you.

“Yup. All good now”, you smiled at his worried face. “Thanks to you of course. You saved me didn’t you?” you teased.

“W-well of course! I mean you were drowning! They bloody threw you in! What the-what the fuck was I meant to do?” he continued stammering for a bit. You noticed how his eyes widened and his voice went up as he ranted.

You’re cute when you’re worried you know that”, the words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop it.

He winked back at you, “Oh sweet cheeks I’m always cute.” Rolling your eyes, you pushed him so he fell further into the water. “Ohhhh”, he grabbed onto you, his eyes twinkling, and pulled you into the water with him. This time he kept a grip on your waist to make sure nothing happened to you.

“CANONBALL”, both Joe and Oli shouted together and jumped in. The lot of you goofed around a bit, and the boys taught you how to see underwater without burning your eyes. It was a bit of a struggle seeing as they didn’t know how to not splash you in the eyes. Eventually, you got there, but by the time you got out of the pool, your eyes were burning from the chlorine water and you were all dead tired. The night ended with everyone back out by the pool tables with pizza and beers, and you were nestled in Jack’s arms.

Party Girl Alex and Detective Dimples 1

Summary: Maggie and Young Alex fight outside of a nightclub.

AN: This is probably a one-shot. But who knows.

“Alex, come back inside please.”

“I already told you, Maggie. It’s been swell, but I’m not interested.” Alex pulls roughly at the door handle of her car, only to groan in aggravation when it doesn’t budge. “Nice,” she mutters sarcastically, patting her jean pockets in search of her keys. It was way too cold to be in front of a nightclub arguing with a virtual stranger. Drunken clubbers were shuffling all around them; a couple of 20-somethings were enthusiastically making out against a sedan two parking spots away. And the hard bass radiating from inside the lounge was making it hard to stand up straight. Alex had to lean against the car door for support.

Maggie eyes her worriedly, both hands stuffed into her jacket pockets. “Come back inside and let me call you a cab.”

“No, thank you.”

“Well, at least let me give you a ride. You can’t drive home like this.”

Alex laughs at the offer, a line of translucent, white air spilling from her lips. She lets her purse slip from her shoulder down to her wrist before leaning forward toward the shorter brunette.

“I said I’m not interested,” she enunciates.

Maggie runs a hand through her hair, partly irritated and partly annoyed by the intoxicated brunette. “Would you get your head out of your ass for two seconds, Princess? I’m not hitting on you.”

Alex snorts disbelievingly. “If you’re not hitting on me then why are you out here?” she questions, eyebrows rising curiously as she stares at the other woman. “Following me to my car uninvited is a little forward, don’t you think?”

Maggie smirks a bit, impressed by the other woman’s gall. “I know this may sound like a radical idea to you, but I’m actually trying to help.”

Alex rolls her eyes. “Yeah, sure you are.”

“Look,” Maggie starts calmly. “If you want to leave, that’s fine. I’ll help you call a taxi. Or I’ll walk you to a bus station. I’ll even drive you home myself.” She raises her eyebrows a little and dips her head, a pleading sort of gesture if there ever was one. “But I’m not going to let you try to operate a two-ton vehicle when you can barely stand up straight,” she finishes.

“I’m fine.” Alex waves off the other woman, trying to shake away the light feeling in her head. “I just need to find my keys, okay.”

Maggie blows out a long breath, eyeing the taller woman exhaustedly.  Maybe she’d said the wrong thing. Sometimes she could be insensitive without trying to be or read signs incorrectly. One of the most prominent traits about Maggie was simply that she was less affected than other people. And sometimes that came off as being less understanding, less empathetic. “I really don’t know why you’re freaking out right now. I thought we were having a good time inside.”

“We were having a good time until you made it weird, Maggie.” Alex crosses her arms defensively.  “Anyways, I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“Whatever. Fine,” Maggie concedes, pulling her hands from her pockets and holding them out in surrender.

Alex nods in acknowledgement before shifting her attention back to the search for her keys. Quickly she unsnaps her purse and starts wading through its contents. Maggie watches on for a few seconds before deciding on a different route.

“You know I’m a cop right?” she begins casually. “As soon as you crank up that car, I’m just gonna arrest you for operating a vehicle while under the influence.”

Alex glances up from her purse, a disbelievingly humored look on her face. “Wow, you really are desperate, huh?”

Maggie rolls her eyes. “You still think I’m trying to flirt with you?”

“Oh, you definitely are,” Alex laughs, pausing in the search for her keys. “I just have one question though, Detective Dimples—“she pauses to snort at her own joke. “If you’re a really cop, where’s your badge. Where are your handcuffs? Impersonating an officer to pick up chicks is against the law, you know.”

Maggie scoffs, slightly offended by the suggestion. “You are a piece of work.” She reaches into her back pocket pulling out her badge and pushing it toward the other woman. “I could arrest you right now. One, for trying to drive when you’re obviously under the influence. Two, for contempt of an officer. And three…well three because you might just be the most annoyingly cocky drunk girl I’ve ever met.”

Alex leans in to examine the badge, stumbling slightly in shock (and inebriation). After a moment or so, she starts rubbing her hands together to keep them from shaking. It’s cold out, and she’s sober enough to realize she just called a cop “Detective Dimples”.

She sputters indignantly when Maggie reaches for her arm.

“Y-You can’t arrest me! Title 14:98 clearly states that I have to be operating a vehicle while under the influence,” Alex flails her arms a little. “I can’t even find my keys.”

Maggie blows out a breath before narrowing her eyes at the other woman. “How many DUIs have you gotten that you know that Title by heart?”

“I haven’t gotten any DUIs, you jerk. I just think people should know their rights,” Alex murmurs the last part before crossing her arms. Maggie eyes her for a moment, humored.

“You’re such a nerd.”

“A nerd?!”

“A nerd,” Maggie affirms, pushing her hands back into her pockets to shield them from the cold. “Are you a law student or do you really just memorize statutes for fun?”

When Alex only shifts uncomfortably, Maggie smiles, raising her eyebrows in muted surprise. “So the latter, huh…that’s kinda cute.”

“Whatever,” Alex waves off the patronizing compliment, decidedly not meeting Maggie’s gaze. The shorter brunette continues talking anyway.

“I wasn’t trying to arrest you, by the way.”

“Then what were you trying to do?”

“I was gonna re-offer you a ride home, you dork.” Maggie smiles genuinely, and the older woman’s resolve cracks just a little.

“I really don’t need one,” she breathes out softly. It’s so cold outside she can see the tiny particles of air briefly suspend in front of her face before falling away. “At worst, I’m a little tipsy.”

“Under the influence is under the influence,” Maggie declares, making the other woman sigh loudly

“Fantastic, you’re a boy scout.” Alex turns away from the bothersome cop to lean against the freezing cold hood of her car. With her eyes closed, she mutters quietly but loud enough for Maggie to hear, “I still think this is your way of flirting with me.”

Maggie rolls her eyes for what feels like the 80th time tonight. “I’m glad you have such a high self-esteem.”

“You know,” Alex continues anyway, her head still lying against the hood. “Threatening to arrest me just so I’ll get in your car isn’t winning you any points.” She lets the words hang for a few seconds before abruptly adding, “Also, I’m not gay.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice,” Maggie shrugs again, pushing her bangs away from her eyes. “Now, are you going to keep moping or can we leave?”

After a long moment of silence, Alex finally rights herself and faces the other woman. “Fine,” she concedes. “Where’s your car?”

People always fall in love with the most perfect aspects of each other’s personalities. Who wouldn’t? Anybody can love the most wonderful parts of another person. But that’s not the clever trick. The really clever trick is this: Can you accept the flaws? Can you look at your partner’s faults honestly and say, ‘I can work around that. I can make something out of it.’? Because the good stuff is always going to be there, and it’s always going to pretty and sparkly, but the crap underneath can ruin you.
—  Elizabeth Gilbert, Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace with Marriage

Boy, oh boy, is my patience being tested.

I really don’t understand the point or reason behind hating something so much, so much so that it creates this rift in a community of people who all share a love for the same show. People are different and connect with certain characters, I get that. But why has it suddenly become this hate-fueled, one-upping, immature fandom? What is it about bashing a complete stranger’s otp or favourite character, or going out of your way to goad certain individuals in certain tags… all to get a couple notes? And don’t get me started on the whole ‘such-and-such is so toxic and abusive’ thing being passed around recently, because Jesus Christ that is not something you throw around lightly (even if it is make-believe). You do get that there’s a whole team of professional writers, actors, producers who are there to bring these characters and stories to life, and who definitely know the signs of an abusive or toxic relationship? Already they’ve integrated real-life issues and beautiful arcs, so it seems like they know what they’re doing…SG is nothing but a fun, positive and family show

Look, I know some ships aren’t getting as much screen time as others, and I get that some characters just aren’t certain people’s cup of tea, but that’s what happens in every single show. There’s something for everyone.

Honestly, this fandom needs to take a step back and have a bit of cop-on.

This was a really random dream I had last night that I wanted to put into words. I tried to make everything as gender neutral as possible so everyone can enjoy this from their perspective if you want! Story Under Line (around 1000 words):

It was only recently we had become a couple, and even more recent that we developed a feeder/feedee relationship. My master/mistress had always been quite loving and caring and when they came out and told me about feederism I agreed to try it. We set out guidelines on our relationship and they educated me in feederism and why they became a feeder.

“I love seeing chubby bellies swollen with food, overweight fatties who get a bit breathless from exercise and seeing a tubby lose control and completely stuff themselves.” My master/mistress said. “I think you would look adorable with a few more pounds on you, but it is your choice.”

I thought about my master/mistresses request and agreed curious how I would look chubby. We had bigger portion sizes and fattier foods, take-out and a once a week stuffing where my master/mistress would encourage me. During these sessions, as more time passed, I noticed my master/mistress getting more and more demanding. They would demand I eat more because I wanted this, and they were right. I had gained fifteen pounds in three months and loved our stuffing sessions. I loved when Master/Mistress teased and humiliated me for gaining. When they would grab my now pudgy belly and tell me how fat I am getting.

Master/Mistress though had to go away for two weeks and leave me alone. They made food for the fridge and said they would call. While Master/Mistress was away I got busy and started working a bit more, leaving less time to eat, even skipping meals. I ended up losing about five of the pounds of the weight Master/Mistress had helped me grow!

“Hello? Is a little fatty home?” my Master/Mistress walked into our apartment setting down their bags immediately.

“Master/Mistress! I missed you.” I hugged my Master/Mistress tightly.

“I missed you as well.”  Master/Mistress rubbed my back, running hands from my shoulders to my butt then crossing over my love handles to my belly. Master/Mistress paused and grabbed my pudge. Suddenly, Master/Mistress grew angry and slapped my belly. “What the hell is this?! Did my piggy lose weight? Who said you could lose weight you fatty?”

“I-I’m sorry Master/Mistress.” I squeaked before Master/Mistress grabbed my love handle pulling me to them.

“Grab your smallest clothes, put them on and meet me in the kitchen in 1 minute.” Master/Mistress headed to the kitchen as I scrambled to my room finding an XS shirt I had from when I was skinnier, now it appeared to be on the verge of becoming  a crop top. Then I found a pair of jean shorts that dug into my sides and barely buttoned but as I sucked in I quickly buttoned and allowed my belly to be squished inside the tight material. I looked in the mirror, the clothes made me look even fatter, my thighs being squeezed from the shorts and the shirt exposing a thin strip of belly with my hip fat pushed out over the sides of the shorts.

I quickly came into the kitchen where piles of fatty foods, sweets, breads and what smelled like pasta had been put on the table or was being prepared. My Master/Mistress stood with a bowl of small powdered sugar donuts and a collar and leash in hand.

“Ready to rip those clothes piggy?” they said as they walked over slipping the collar on my neck and attaching the leash to the collar. “From now on my piggy, the safe word in case anything happens or if I start pushing too far is umbrella, understood?”

“Umbrella.” I repeated starting to wiggle in excitement. Master/Mistress pushed me to the ground after hearing me understand the safe word.

“Piggies crawl on all fours and only oink and eat to get fatter and I want you much fatter piggy.” Master/Mistress looked me over with their eyes and led me to the bowl of donuts. “Now eat piggy.”

I did. I ate all the donuts, and the cookies, some pasta and the chocolates. I ate until my jaw was tired of chewing and my belly had grown into a firm ball that refused to move. I groaned as I rubbed my belly against the floor to try and release some of the pressure. I had never eaten that much food in one sitting!

“Does a fat piggy want a belly rub?” Master/Mistress, who had been watching the entire time, encouraging me, yanked on the leash forcing my head to look up at them. “I will help you if piggy does something for me…”

I oink and snort in agreement eager for Master/Mistress to praise me and reward me with belly rubs. Master/Mistress smiles darkly and pulled out a funnel, my eyes widened. They jammed the funnel in my throat and pulled out a gainer shake they had made. “Once you drink this whole 2,000 calorie shake you will have had 8,000 calories! Drink up piggy.”

All I could do was mindlessly swallow as my shirt shrunk to cover only my chest, exposing my tight beach ball gut. The sleeves even grew tight around my arms! The shorts suddenly POPPED and the button holding my swollen gut from escape flew across the room causing Master/Mistress to smile in glee. The shake kept flowing though causing the shorts to rip around my thighs and me to moan in a pain caused pleasure as I swallowed. My shirt’s seams creaked and popped in a few places as I swallowed the last drops of the shake.

I moaned in pain, falling to my side, cradling my enormous belly. Master/Mistress unhooked the leash and put away all of the materials we used. The Master/Mistress came over to me, picking me up and moving me to the couch to be more comfortable. Master/Mistress pulled out some lotion and began rubbing lotion into my swollen abdomen and massaging.  

“Hey, I am really proud of you. That was really impressive. You’re amazing you know that?” Master/Mistress said as they worked. They leaned forward kissing my belly and then me. I then proceeded to cuddle and nap with Master/Mistress for the rest of the day.


I’m a C2 vent dependent quad and thankful that I’m alive. I hate when people say that they’d rather be dead, than in my situation. Especially since they don’t TRULY know my situation. I don’t go around feeling sorry for myself. I work, I have friends and I like to go out and have fun. Even more importantly, I’m happily married to a wonderful guy. Guess what? We do what other married couples do, just do it differently. For the million dollar questions, yes do make love and we do have a sex life. I can’t feel him cuddling/touching me, but I still warm and fuzzy inside when he does.
To those who think that because I’m in a chair that my life is over….you couldn’t be more wrong

Cute? I wrote the book on cute! I just need a little help with my next chapter.

I’m Galen, around 5 years old, in New Jersey, where I used to be out on the streets. Once I was rescued I knew inside was where I wanted to be. Who wants to be out scrounging for food when it can be brought right to you a couple of times a day? And have you heard about sunbathing on a windowsill? Amazing!

So come on let’s go… adopt me! Re-blog me! Call 856-627-9111 or email to make it happen!

Camila Who? {S.M}

requested by @skyliarivera // an imagine where Shawn flirts with Camilla at the VMA’s and you get mad and he tries to make it up to you {w/ surprise}

You sat in your seat at the VMA’s by yourself, as Shawn talked to his “best friend” Camila over somewhere else. Shawn and you came together as your first outing as a couple, only a week after your relationship had been confirmed and you hoped that you would actually be his date. But it seems he has ditched his date so he can hang out with a “friend”, Camila. You sat in your seat, scrolling through your newsfeed on Instagram liking photos and commenting back to sweet people, trying to make yourself feel better as everyone around you seemed happy as could be. With friends or boyfriends or even husbands. Taylor Swift was just down the isle with her boyfriend, Calvin Harris and her friends. Justin Bieber was hanging out with Nash Grier {who you weren’t sure why Nash was here, but you weren’t in charge so}. And Shawn was hanging out with Camila. You were supposed to be hanging out with your boyfriend, but he was far to interested in hanging out with Camila.
Camila was the death of you. Like literally, all of Shawn’s fans said they preferred Camila to you, which honestly hurt because Camila wasn’t the most liked in Shawn’s fandom. Camila was prettier than you, and honestly a whole lot more talented. You weren’t even famous. She was better looking than you, and she looked better with Shawn and they would be really happy together. You had only been confirmed to be dating for a week and people are already comparing you to Camila. You weren’t surprised.
You were just counting down the days until Shawn realized what everyone else had and dump you and run off into the sunset of paparazzi and award shows with Camila.
And, showing the evidence from tonight, that time was approaching much sooner than you had thought. You didn’t even know where Shawn was. And the award show was starting very very soon. You were frustrated so you stood up and started to scan the crowd, not caring what other amazing celebrities you saw. You just wanted to see Shawn. And when you spotted him, you were angry but not surprised. He was standing with Camila {of course} and they were talking and laughing and blushing. You just watched, not caring enough to stop them. But Shawn checked his watch and noticed the award show was about to start. He looked bummed out and so did she. I guess he couldn’t bare having to leave her and spend time with his actual girlfriend he has been with for about twenty minutes tonight. You weren’t shocked by any of this. But what he did next is what is going to make him sleep on the couch {or maybe in Camila’s bed for all you knew} tonight. He leaned in and KISSED her on the cheek. Sure, it was a cheek kiss but you wanted to slaughter him in that moment. You thought that his lips were only to kiss you, but obviously Camila was an exception.
And it was most certainly not one that you approved of. At all.
You sat down before Shawn turned around and saw you. He could’ve French kissed Camila after you sat for all you knew, or cared for that matter. But you sat down, letting your anger fester and infect you. You weren’t happy when Shawn sat down next to and put his hand on your thigh. You pushed it away and crossed your legs. You could basically feel the confused vibes from Shawn.
“What’s wrong?” He asked. You turned to look at him. You looked at him angry just because he didn’t even know what he did.
“Y/n, seriously I’m sorry for whatever I did!” He says, putting his hands up.
“You mean Camila?” You scoff, looking away. Kind of proud of the smart alack comment you made. It was quick and you weren’t quick. But it didn’t last long because you were reminded of Shawn and Camila. The lights started to go down, and you were honestly excited they were.
“I’m not sleeping with Camila.” Shawn whisper shouted, making sure no one heard.
“The show is starting.” You smile, just in case cameras were looking at you. “This’ll finish later.”
The car ride home wasn’t fun. The driver was suspicious at the extremely quiet behavior from both of you. You maybe would’ve overlooked some of it, but Shawn didn’t help his case at all.
Shawn obviously didn’t get the hint and went to talk to Camila multiple times throughout the night. So you were extra über pissed at him. The second you got out of limo and back at the hotel, you basically had to hold in the bubbling scream that you knew was going to happen when you got back to hotel room. You entered in the key card and stepped in and you let it out.
“So how was your night with Camila!” You basically yell.
“What are you talking about y/n?” He says, obviously extremely confused.
“You talked to Camila the whole time and ignored me and flirted with her and…” You scream. You couldn’t bear to say the next thing you said, but it came out much quieter and sadder than you aimed for. “I just didn’t feel like your girlfriend.” You finish, looking down a your feet. You didn’t see it, but Shawn quickly pulled you into his arms and hugging you tight. You wrapped your arms around him, letting your anger melt away.
“I’m sorry. God, I’m stupid.” He said, kissing the top of your head. You laughed.
“Just please don’t treat Camila like I want you to treat me.” You say, burying your face in his chest.
“Now, would I do this to Camila?” He whispers and pulls away. You are taken aback as he gets down on one knee and fumbles around in his pocket. You had only been dating for a few months. You didn’t think this would happen. It would probably be a mistake. He pulls out a ring and you try and stop him.
“Shawn, please do-” he takes your hands and cuts you off.
“You don’t have to say yes. I just want you to know you are the only one I ever want to be with.”

there is a heathers {the musical}reference in this I’m certain no one got but I do and that’s all that matters :)) sorry it’s short babes


i.) Be liberated. Feel free to do whatever you need to do to be okay. Soak yourself in warm water and bubbles or take a night out under the stars. Get cozy with a couple of beers if that’s your thing. Walk around your house naked (if you live alone or with people who you can be naked around). Eat enough gummy worms to make your seven year old self sick. Feel free. Free enough to act without judgement, free enough to exist in your space where nobody else can tell you what to do.

ii.) Remember that humans are at least 50% mistake. Nobody walks through life gracefully, it’s more of a stumbling journey. Forgive yourself for the little things and for that which you can’t, believe that they have made you a different person. You are not the things you have done, no matter how heavy they have made you feel.

iii.) Treat yourself with what you can. I don’t mean flood your free time with luxury, but reward yourself with even the smallest of gifts. A piece of bread that costs exactly what you have in change, a pair of socks that makes you laugh, a beautiful set of earrings no matter how fake they are (I really doubt anyone notices from a glance). 

iv.) Reach out for help when you need it. Existing is a difficult thing to do, and we cannot do it alone. You are not a burden, or a task, or an anchor holding anyone down. You are not invincible or infinite, there are no stone walls in your chest to protect you. Fall back on others, scrape your knees, let the universe win this one. Because you’ll get back up. And you don’t have to do it by yourself.

v.) Do your best. That’s really all you can ever ask of yourself. Work your hardest and don’t look back. Will your limbs to get up in the morning, and try to get your brain to rest when it’s supposed to. Put the most you can into what you do– and I’m not saying it’s gotta be 110% all of the time, but drive yourself to do what you can. If life’s gonna be a bitch, you gotta make the most of it and take it all back. 

vi.) Take care of yourself. Whether it be in mental health days or retail therapy or vent sessions over whiskey, do it. Let yourself be vulnerable enough for you to feel the wounds on your body and know that you can tend to them. Don’t put anything before your health or wellbeing because nothing should stand in your way of feeling like you’re worth the care. Love yourself enough to worry about it. Mend your scars before throwing yourself out there again. Because you’ll conquer whatever it is you need to, so long as you make it through this okay.
—  Lessons in self-love

anonymous asked:

I too am trapped at work. How about you don't think about Dean stuck as a cashier of a thrift shop, that is in it slow time, and it is still hours before he can clock off, but the texts that Sam is sending of him naked on the bed slowly stroking himself, are making the work day go that much slower.

“Sam is such a brat.” Dean growls under his breath as he picks up his phone and sees yet another picture of the beautiful cock, dripping on his hand.
-I WILL spank you when I get home-
He replies furiously as he looks around the empty store and twists his hips to the side, furiously trying to hide his boner.
He rings out a couple of people who look just as bored and uninterested as he is to be there and as he fake smiles and wishes them a (truly horrible) “nice day” through gritted teeth he hears his phone buzz again.
His asshole twitches in sympathy as his hand throbs with anticipation of turning Sam’s peach of an ass red.
A video this time, and watching it is a mistake, he knows it. But, he’s always been a glutton for punishment.
The camera is shaky and pans down from Sam’s pretty tanned nipples, tight with arousal, to his stomach, heaving up and down with breath, and finally to his spent cock, laying across his hip in a pool of spunk. A whisper of “I couldn’t wait” and the image goes dark.
Deans hands are shaking. His cock hurts with neglect and he has at least another four hours in his shift. Unless.
He rummages under the register for a moment until he finds it; emergency protocols. He’s just had a call that there’s an emergency at work and he has to leave immediately. He dials his boss, and cries into the phone. The man is easily duped (mostly because he wants to suck Dean’s cock so bad that it’s a little embarrassing) and tells dean to put a note on the door and lock up behind him, and he will come cover the rest of the shift.
Dean is gone almost before he’s hung up the phone, barely checking the store to make sure there’s no one else there before he locks the door and is in the car headed to his tease of a brother.


Just some domestic!Nygmobblepot fluff. Oswald talks (and drools) in his sleep and Ed makes breakfast ♥︎

Read on AO3

Thank you Rosie, Eva and everyone else who gave me feedback on this! ♥

The sunlight is peeking through a small slit between the heavy curtains of their bedroom window. Ed blinks a couple of times and lets out a long yawn as he stretches his arms above his head.

The first thing he does - just like every morning - is to turn around, facing the man who - just like every morning - is still asleep next to him.

Ed’s sure there’s never been a morning where Oswald had woken up before him.

Not that he minds though. Because really, watching Oswald sleep is one of his favorite things to do.

And right on cue, Oswald makes a soft little noise. Ed’s lips split into a warm smile as he leans in closer, ready to press a kiss onto his husband’s forehead.


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