college boy!luke, the popular jock, and you being the only 2 people left in the flat one evening and you end up walking past his room where the door is slightly ajar and you can hear the light playing of strings coming from a guitar. pushing the door open you were able to hear his music for the first time since you’d all moved in, due to the flat being the host of every party on campus and hey he actually sounded good, no, amazing. he looks shocked to see you, obviously not expecting visitors in his room as only the small desk lamp shines a glimmer of light through the room, illuminating his features in such a way as to make him look soft and tired instead of rough and angled which are the features everyone would die for but instead of throwing you out, or telling you to get lost, luke tilts his head over and plays some more, not allowing either of you to speak as the words he’s written on a small pad of paper seem to be doing all of the talking. the melodies concocted in his mind and the rhythm he strums fill the room with new possibilities and experiences as you end up lying on his bed into the early hours of the morning, sharing the earphones of his phone, listening to the songs which inspire him and spur him on, all the while expressing a new side of him you’d never seen; gentle, caring, a bit awkward but he can get past in college with a smirk or two, he tells you quietly, as if it’s his biggest secret. you tell him one of yours, and the night continues. what you both don’t realise, is that you now share the same secret, after you soundlessly fall asleep with your head against his shoulder, curled up on one side of his mattress with his favourite song still playing through the earphones. trusting him in your innocent subconscious state with a spark of affection towards the tall boy. and luke? he doesn’t think he’d like you this way. he doesn’t think that in 7 years time that this very song that he watched you fall asleep to with a small smile on your face, would be your wedding song, either.

 for macaroonmichael and classifiedluke ‘s college!5sos blurb night!! hope u enjoy!!

Anon Request: Unexpected audience - Joshua Lieben

Because I like this purple puffball, I’m gonna do it. :P

You peeked through the ajar door to his office. He was definitely still here. It was almost 11, and the light was on.
No reply.
“Prince Joshua?”
He didn’t reply to his title either. Curiously you push open the door. The warm yellow glow of lamps was still bright, and you spot your fiance slumped over his desk, sound asleep. With a soft sigh, you go over to him and take his blazer off the hook, draping it over his shoulders. Lightly, you tuck it in to where his body pressed against the desk to keep it in place. Books and papers were spread across the wooden surface and you do your best to clean up the assortment of documents. It wasn’t the first time he overexerted himself like this. You stroke the purple locks with your fingertips absentmindedly.
“Seriously, Joshua, you can’t keep doing this to yourself.” You mumble to yourself. He looked stressed and exhausted, but a sort of peaceful feel unclenched the usually crinkled brow. You press a light kiss to his cheek and hurry out of his office, turning the lights off, leaving the single lamp on his desk.
You were halfway out the door when you heard him call for you. A blush creeps across your cheeks. Had he felt you kiss him? Or…
“Why are you up so late?”
You whirl around to face him and see his furrowed brow and frown. Joshua hung his blazer back up on the hook and stood up, walking over to you.
“You should be sleeping, ______________.”
“I wanted to check up on you.” You pout.
“There was no need for that.” He said curtly. “You should go sleep. It’s a busy day tomorrow.”
Joshua’s violet eyes were stern and intense, hard to refuse. Frustration bubbles up inside you the longer you looked at him.
“You should be sleeping too!” You exclaim. “You shouldn’t be up this late, no matter what work it is! Your health is an existent concept!”
“I know.”
“But you don’t act upon it!”
With the way the purple irises gleamed, you could sense the impeding destruction of your point before he even opened his mouth.
“I’m the prince of a country.”
“A dead prince is no good to his country.” You blurt before you could control yourself.
The violet eyes narrowed.
“I will be fine.” He enunciated each word with stiff finality and turned away. “You go back to your room.”
“Joshua…” You sought the right words for an apology, yet nothing came to mind. He returned to his desk and re-illuminated the lights. The conversation, the only interaction the two of you have had within the past week, was over. Anger and guilt whirl inside you as you storm out of his office, not quite aware of the lavender gaze that followed you out of the room.
For another hour, you found yourself unable to sleep. Tossing and turning in bed, the negativity you suffered left you wide awake. You glare at the dress hanging up over your cabinet. A traditional, white and amethyst Dres Van style piece of formality intended for tomorrow’s engagement festivities. Formality. Tradition. Royalty.
You huffed and rolled away from it, wrapping yourself into a roll of blankets.
None of this was of importance to your perception of love. None of it. You could be happy with Joshua if he wasn’t a prince. Who cared?
But it mattered.
You pull the blankets over your head and muffle your thoughts into the warm softness of the covers.
It wasn’t fair!
He was going to get sick from all this work, and you couldn’t do anything. You had tried to learn accounting and help him out with the finances. Joshua said no. You had tried to help him file documents and digitalize papers. Joshua said no. You had tried to help him iron a shirt and Joshua flung the cold iron at Jan and said no. All he would ever let you do is roll up rice ball after rice ball and serve it to him.
You felt so useless.
There was a knock at your door.
You ignored it.
It was Joshua.
You ignored him.
“______________.” He called again, sounding upset and apologetic. You ignored him.
You heard the footsteps, not as firm and confident as usual, drag away from your door.
In the morning, you shut off your alarm. It was an important day. There were festivities to attend to, people to greet, newspapers to take photos for, extravagant things that you originally had wanted no part of, but your relationship commanded. You washed up and brushed your hair to a soft sheen. Plucking off the dress from its hanger, you started to slip into it. With a rush of pride, you look at yourself in the mirror. This was a design you did yourself from the pictures you had requested for reference. It was formal, but very… you. Reaching to the back, you tried to pull up the zipper. It slid along for a few inches, and caught on some fabric.
“Dang it!”
Your fingers tease at the cloth, trying to loosen it.
“Miss _____________?”
Jan’s voice was at the door.
“Prince Joshua said to bring you breakfast. May I enter?”
“No!” You exclaim, louder than intended. “I mean. Not now! I’m dressing.”
“Understood. Oh wait no YOUR MAJESTY!”
You jump at Jan’s tone of voice and turn to the door in time to see Joshua clumsily crashing through, pushing a cart of food.
His ears were red as he cleared his throat.
“I need to talk to _______________ about something. Jan, close the door.”
Stifling a chuckle, Jan nodded.
“Of course, boss.”
As the door shut behind Joshua, you fold your arms across your chest, both putting up a facade of your lasting anger and pinning your dress to your body. Your cheeks reddened and you hoped Joshua wouldn’t notice. He didn’t.
“______________…” He nudged the cart. “I brought you food.”
You raised an eyebrow, amusement almost escaping through your voice at his adorable awkwardness.
“A peace offering?” 

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Prince!Michael is the rebel of the family. He can’t seem to escape the shadow cast by his older brother, and being second in line to the throne gives him a bit more freedom, which he only uses to cause trouble. He’s constantly sneaking out of the castle, slipping past guards to escape royal life, only to waltz back in a few days later, causing all sorts of discontent. His parents agree; the only way to stop this outlandish behavior is to have him settle down- and they know just the girl. You’re prim and proper,  the perfect princess really, and Michael immediately balks at the thought of marriage with someone so… uptight. But one night, as he walks down a corridor, quietly sliding from one corner of shadow to another to avoid detection, he pauses outside your room where the door is slightly ajar. From there, he can see you standing next to the window, knotting the bed sheets together into a makeshift rope, which you fling out the window and down the side of the castle. Throwing a leg over the sill, you give one more look around as if searching for watchful eyes, and then slip the rest of the way out, disappearing from view. Stunned, Michael can only stand there looking into the now empty bedroom, thinking that maybe, he needs to get to know you a little better.

Clothes Swap

This is one of my contributions to the Solangelo Weekend/Anthology

Clothes Swap

The Hades cabin door was open, and Nico had left his sword in there. Stepping quietly towards the black porch, Nico narrowed his eyes as he tried to peer into the room. It was too early for this.

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The Death of Lovers

We shall have beds full of subtle perfumes,
Divans as deep as graves, and on the shelves
Will be strange flowers that blossomed for us
Under more beautiful heavens.
Using their dying flames ominously,
Our two hearts will be two immense torches
Which will reflect their double light
In our two souls, those twin mirrors.
Some evening made of rose and of mystical blue
A single flash will pass between us
Like a long sob, charged with farewells;
And later an Angel, setting the doors ajar,
Faithful and joyous, will come to revive
The tarnished mirrors, the extinguished flames.


I hate the door ajar ding

I absolutely can’t stand the dinging noise that a car makes when the driver’s door is open and the key is in the ignition.  My next door neighbor is constantly outside cleaning his car and doing typical maintenance and he leaves the key in the ignition and the door ajar.  That ding permeates everything and seems to come from every direction.  The way that it bounces off every surface and bombards your eardrums makes it sound like there’s no frequency to the number of beats per second.  Sometimes it’s ding ding ding ding and other times it’s ding dingdinginging (pause) ding.  I find it disorientating.  I hate it.  It’s worse than finger nails on a chalk board.  It’s worse than high pitched, high decibel laughs.  It’s even worse than Nickelback.

Please, take your keys out of the ignition and / or close your door.

my car broke :(

if any of you know anything about 1994 Doge Grand Caravan sliding door lock assemblies you input would be most helpful…

the door is completely shut but the damned sensor still keeps saying door ajar on and off every half second or so and i think it may even be a wiring issue but now it constantly says its open so the dome lights wont turn off and so ive had to dc the battery and my parents sya i cnt drive it till its fixed :(

The Door Ajar: Antonin Artaud

The Door Ajar: Antonin Artaud

Travelling to Cork today reminds me of a film about Antonin Artaud I saw last year at the Portobello Cinema called The Door Ajar. Thanks to Niall McDevitt for bringing this valuable film to London.

*On August 14th 1937 the French poet and theatre director, Antonin Artaud, arrived in Cobh in County Cork, bringing with him a stick which he believed St. Patrick owned. His intention was to return…

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Chance - Liam x Reader

Anon’s Prompt: Can I have a Liam imagine where Liam is at the gym and he sees the reader dancing in a separate studio. After awhile of watching her dance he decides to go in and meet her. Eventually after being cute and awkward he asks her out. Thanks!

A/N: This is written from Liam’s POV. Also, I changed some detail, I apologize. This turned out A LOT shorter than I originally wanted.

Originally posted by liveformyaddictions

The stress of everything going on was too much for me to handle. I just finished a two hour work out session. I hadn’t intended on going that long but I lost track of time. I was walking out of the weight room when I noticed a door that was slightly ajar, the light coming out from it. I pushed it open, just enough to see inside.

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castielsangelicdescent asked:

For the drabble thing: destiel and 18 please? thanks!!

“This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.”

“So what do you say?” Dean asks.

“This is without a doubt the stuidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.” Cas replies. 

So that’s it, they set their plan in motion. They scramble up the stairs to Cas’ brothers’ bedroom with the bin bag full of feathers Dean had been collecting over the past two weeks, and those he bought from the craft store. Cas tails him with a bucket of slightly watered down PVA that Cas got from the garage. 

Dean stands on Michael’s desk chair to reach and put the bucket of glue above Michael and Gabriel’s room, balancing the bucket on the slightly ajar door and then pouring the feathers into an empty washing basket. 

Cas looks at his watch. “Dean, quick, Gabriel will be home any minute now!” He urges. 

“Chill, I got this. We got this. This is gonna be so good.” He tells him, grinning. Cas grins back and giggles. 

“We’ll hide away in my room until we hear him shout then we’ll get him with the feathers!” 

“Yes, come on.”

It’s five minutes later when Gabriel comes home.

“Hello!” He shouts through the house. Dean and Cas just giggle from their hiding spot in Cas’ bedroom. They’re stood by Cas’ door, shoulder to shoulder, ready to pounce.

Footsteps up the stairs. Dean rests his hand against the door handle and hands Cas the basket of feathers. “You can do the honours.” 

“AHHH!” Comes a shout from down the hallway.

“Now! Cas! Now!” Dean swings the door open and lets Cas run down the hall with the feathers. He chucks them unceremoniously at his older brother, laughing when he sees the white PVA dripping down his face, coating his hair and shoulders and looking highly unimpressed. The feathers stick to his hair and scatter the floor, Dean picks up the remaining feathers and throws them haphazardly at Gabriel watching as he scowls even more.

“CASTIEL!!” Gabriel yells even though they’re both right there. They run off quick and slam Cas’ bedroom door behind them and sit against it out of breath and in fits of laughter.

“Oh, that was good!”

“Did you see his face?” Cas asks.

“Pure shock, reckon that was good revenge for the fake snakes in your bed?”

“I think so!” Dean hold out a palmed hand.

“High five, dude.” But Cas ignores Dean’s hand and kisses him instead.

“Thanks, Dean.” Cas blushes, it’s not that they haven’t kissed before, it’s just that they’ve never kissed like that before, all quick and perfect and just there.

“What for?” 

“Helping me get revenge on my brother. There’s a reason we nickname him Loki around the house.” Dean laughs and throws his arm around Cas as they stay sat in front of the door, just in case Gabriel wants to get them back.

Rap Star (Wonwoo)

type: one shot

genre: fluffy fluff

synopsis: Wonwoo teaches you how to rap and it goes well. Sort of.

author’s note: Hey guys, this is my first scenario on the blog, I hope you like it!

You wake up from your nap to the sound of a heavy bass and Wonwoo’s deep voice muttering some lyrics.

Squinting, you sit up from your spot on the couch and slide your legs out from under the thick quilt. Your feet carry you to Wonwoo’s study, where the door is left ajar. Peeking in, a smile spreads across your face as you watch the lines of his back and the way his black hair bounces as he nods his head to the beat.

“Hey,” You whisper as you open the door. “Writing lyrics?”

Wonwoo turns around and gives you a small smile. “Trying to.”

You smile as you wrap your arms around yourself and walk over to him. He guides you onto his lap and you lean back into his broad chest with a content sigh. Your eyes trail to his laptop screen. He has a document open in front of him, but there’s only a few lines typed up.

“I take a nap for an hour and you write only two lines of rap.” You tease, poking his cheek.

Wonwoo jokingly rolls his eyes. “Rapping isn’t easy.”

“Sure, okay.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Can you do any better?”

You shift in your seat on Wonwoo’s lap before crossing your arms. “Maybe I can. If you teach me.”

“Fine. Let’s do a test first.” His lips spread into a smile. “Read my lyrics with the beat.”

Your confidence wavers as you look at the lyrics. Wonwoo’s sharp gaze is focused on you, so it’s too late to back out. Sitting up, you attempt to find the beat before launching into the most awkward rap you’ve ever heard. You’re cringing inside and you can see Wonwoo pursing his lips as he attempts to hold back a laugh.

As you finish rapping the last line, Wonwoo pauses the music and hides his face behind his hands. Your cheeks turn red as you hear him laugh quietly.

“Hold on, give me a minute.” You can hear the smile in his voice.

“Stop, I know you’re laughing at me!” You try to sound sad.

You pull back his hands from his face and you can see the wide grin on his lips. He laughs as you jokingly pout.

“It wasn’t…terrible.” He says, snickering.

“Yes, it was.”

“Okay, maybe it was.”

You punch him in the arm. Holding back his grin, he slides his fingers across the trackpad of his laptop and restarts the music. The instrumental floods the room again as Wonwoo turns to you with a confident smirk.

“Watch and learn.”

His deep voice resonates in the room as he starts to rap. You lean your head against his as he follows the beat of the music. His right hand makes gestures while his left hand holds the side of your waist.

When he finishes, he looks at you. “That’s how you rap.”

You roll your eyes. “You didn’t even teach me anything.”

“You’re supposed to watch and learn,” Wonwoo scoffs. “But you were really off beat. Like really.”

You give him a look and he shrugs, smiling. “It’s the truth.”

“Well, then, where’s the beat?”

Wonwoo purses his lips and looks at the screen as he thinks. “You just kind of feel it?”

“That’s really helpful, Wonwoo.”

“Okay, okay, just try it again.”

He restarts the music and you listen to the beat before starting the rap. It doesn’t sound all that different from your first attempt, but this time, Wonwoo nods along to your verses. When you finish, he opens his eyes and smiles at you.

“You failed.”

“Are you kidding me?”

Wonwoo laughs before kissing your cheek. “It’s okay. There only needs to be one rapper in this relationship.”

You huff in frustration, but he only smiles before turning on the music and rapping again.