endearing idiots

i want to talk about the characterizations of ben wyatt and jake peralta. arguably jim halpert could be included in this conversation, but i want to focus on ben and jake because they’re such clear subversions of well-known tropes

firstly, you have ben wyatt. the nerd. he’s established as a hard-ass and a geek early on, and it would have been so easy for the writers to fall into that trope of presenting him as below leslie, as her eventual agreement to date him has a victory for all male nerds, because he had successfully tricked a woman into being interested in him. 

instead, we get ben wyatt, a dork and a feminist. he’s nationally ranked in settlers of catan and he likes to sit around in a batman costume and he loves game of thrones. he also loves his girlfriend enough to lose his job for her, and it’s never even addressed whether he minds that leslie will probably end up with a higher status job than him - because why would he? he loves and supports her, and his nerdiness is presented not as a flaw, but as a complement to her single-minded determination - they’re both total nerds with an overlapping ven diagram of interests.

secondly, jake peralta. the character we’re introduced to in the first episode is cocky and a smartass, and while he’s loveable, we completely understand why he would drive amy up a wall. jake and amy are less alike than ben and leslie are; arguably they’re opposites. again, there’s a trope that the show could have fallen into: “endearing idiot eventually wears down woman who is too good for him, and she realizes she was too uptight all along”.

but again, we get something completely different. jake peralta, known for being Too Much, consistently respects amy’s boundaries and tries as hard as he can to be honest about his feelings, while understanding that amy is her own person. she buys orange soda for him and he gets a new mattress for her. there are so many examples of the respect in that relationship - they’re both so stubborn, but they love each other so much. he’s always known that she was going to be his boss. they’re different, but they love it about each other.

all i’m saying is, this purposeful subversion of gross male stereotypes is so important - and so much easier (and so much funnier!) than people think

I do it because I’m happy, there are not many other explanations. I try to repeat the movements of a ‘Bangles’ dance. To tell the truth, I’m not a good dancer, but if I keep doing it and people are having fun, it is a good sign, or am I wrong?

Sebastian Vettel when asked about his recent victory dances

He’s got his moves from the music video of “Walk like an egyptian” by The Bangles

do you ever think about how robert and aaron literally wiped the floor with everyone at a couples quiz because they can basically read each other’s brains but emotionally they’re still the worst communicators I’ve ever flipping seen with my own two eyeballs

like why are they like this but also i love them??????

anonymous asked:

Starmora + 15

15. Things you said with too many miles between us

She was in her room on the rented ship when her holo started ringing. A picture of Peter making a ridiculous face popped up on the screen (he had his tongue sticking out, which he told her was a sign of maturity on Terra, but she wasn’t sure she believed him).

She sat down on the bed to answer it. “Peter?”

“Gamora!” At first his face took up most of the screen, but then he took a step back and she could see the table behind him; he must have been using the large holo in the Milano’s common area.  

“Is everything alright?”

“Yep! Just wanted to see how close you were getting.”

“You know we won’t get there until morning.”

Recently, the Nova Corps had discovered that the leftover Ronan fanatics had huge weapon caches stored on two different planets, so they’d hired the Guardians to take them out. It was a simple job. The only problem was that they had to take out both caches at the same time, otherwise as soon as one exploded, the fanatics would be on their way to defend the other one.

So, they’d split up: Gamora, Rocket, and Groot on a ship the Nova had leant them, and Peter, Drax, and Mantis back on the Milano.

“Okay, fine.” Peter sighed like she was making him give up some big secret. “So I just wanted to say hi.”

“Well, hi,” she said, unable to rein in the fondness in her voice.

“Hi. You’re pretty,” he said with a big, goofy smile. 

“Someone is feeling affectionate today.”

“What can I say?” He shrugged. “I miss you.”

Gamora bit her lip. She did not consider herself to be very good at expressing her feelings. Before, she had thought Peter was the same way, but once he was secure that she also felt their ‘unspoken thing,’ he had become rather effusive.

Still, she did miss him; they’d taken to sharing a bed recently, and she wasn’t looking forward to sleeping without him.

“I miss you, too,” she mumbled.

“What was that?” Peter teasingly cupped his ear and leaned closer to the screen.

“You heard what I said.”

“C’mooooooon, say it louder. What’s the harm?”

“I don’t want Rocket to hear.”

“Oh, he won’t.” Peter waved a dismissive hand. “I just wanna know you miss me, too.” He extended his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout that she found irritatingly endearing.

“You’re an idiot,” she said. “But I miss you, too.”

“See?” He grinned. “Was that so –“

“Are you kidding?” Rocket shouted from the other side of the door. “You’ve been apart for a freakin day!”

Gamora raised an eyebrow at Peter and gestured toward the door, a non-verbal ‘I told you so.’

“Quit eavesdropping, Rocket!” He yelled.

“I wasn’t!”

“I am Groot! I am Groot!”

“What? Yeah, she’s talking to Quill –“

The door burst open and Groot came running in, climbing up onto Gamora’s lap with no warning.

“I am Groot!” He yelled, waving at the screen.

Peter gave an exasperated little wave back. “Hi, buddy.”

Rocket hopped up onto the bed next to her, and she didn’t even spare an eye-roll when he squeezed his head into frame and said, “Hey, loser. How’s the codependence going?”

“Terrific,” Peter said, glaring at him. “Now can you –“

“Is that Rocket?” Came Mantis’s voice from Peter’s end. He dropped his head into his hands when she came running into frame. “Oh, it’s everybody!” She smiled at the screen. Then she turned to yell, “Drax! Come here! We are all talking on the holo!”

“Oh my god,” Peter grumbled into his hands as Drax entered the room and immediately started arguing with Rocket about a mess that had been left in the cargo hold.

Gamora was surprised to find herself smiling, but she couldn’t help it. Their friends had just busted in on a private conversation and taken it over, and now Peter was looking at her through his spread fingers and smiling at her sheepishly. It all just felt so wonderfully… normal.

So she gave Peter a little wave and mouthed ‘it’s okay,’ perfectly content to allow Groot to stand on her legs and take hold of the holo.

“I am Groot!” He said, hopping off the bed with it.

“Hey!” Rocket yelled. “Bring that back!”

“Gamora!” She could hear Peter yell from the screen. “Help! Groot is kidnapping us!”

“I’ll save you!” She said in the most serious voice she could, chasing a cackling Groot down the hall, Rocket not far behind.

Maybe expressing her feelings wasn’t so bad, after all.

All I Want

A Christmas party on board the Enterprise leads to a late night exchange of rather intimate gifts between Bones and their newest passenger.

Warnings: Smutty goodness darlings. Welcome me back and to a new fandom. Unprotected sex. 


It was at the first annual Christmas aboard the Enterprise’s five year voyage when Admiral Farah learned that Leonard McCoy was a smooth kisser. Behind the layers of sarcasm, metaphors and perpetual scowls waited a man just looking for someone to pour into.

As his lips meshed with hers, the scent of peppermint wafted up from her steaming coco. The mistletoe Sulu brandished much like his saber, brushed her cheek as he declared the kiss satisfactory to the tradition. Chekov let out a long whistle when neither she nor Bones pulled away immediately. Bones’ hands had somehow wound up in her hair, and hers clutching at the back of his shirt. His nose skimmed her cheek, their breaths mixing together while both struggled to separate hormones and Christmas cheer from solid, trustworthy feelings. Farah broke it off first, lips already aching in the absence of the doctor’s.

Keep reading

incomplete oumaede


Kaede sighed, tangling her fingers near the crown of her head. Previously, she had been using that hand to rap on the door, but clearly no one was going to answer. The other hand was occupied with rummaging through her bag, straining her ears for the telltale metal jingle.

Her fingers slipped against something smooth and clicked down on a button.

“Oh – ”

Her phone screen lit up, the white digits 1:39AM displayed.

Fingers stopping, she blinked at it. Had she really been working that late? It hadn’t felt like it. No wonder Ouma hadn’t attended to the door. He was probably already snoring in bed – and she couldn’t blame him for it.

How did she lose track of time, anyway?

She finally found the cold metal in the recesses of her bag, then jammed it into the keyhole (and turned it the wrong way a few times before finally turning it the right way). When she pushed open the door, she found the TV emitting light, sounds produced soft.

Did Ouma forget to turn the TV off before going to bed? Now she had something to scold him for. Kicking off her shoes at the front, she shut the door behind her, heading straight for the coffee table where the remote probably was.

When she caught sight of what was on the couch, her strides rapidly morphed into quiet tiptoes.

“What the heck,” she sniffed, creeping towards the edge of the table and clicking the remote. The television screen buzzed off. “Now it looks like I’m the villain.”

The sleeping Ouma did not respond.

Kaede wanted to kick herself for thinking something so clichéd, but he actually did look like an angel. Actually, people might be fooled into thinking that he actually was one, even when awake. You know, if he shut up a bit more.

Regardless, the tiny couch wasn’t a good place to sleep. Even if Ouma was – well, tiny. He looked pretty uncomfortable with all his limbs crossed up and twisted over each other, at least. Kaede’s hand hovered over him hesitantly before finally settling on his shoulder and shaking it cautiously.


He didn’t respond.

“Hey,” she tried again, and considered adding in a fond endearment like idiot, but he didn’t even stir. Chewing on her bottom lip, Kaede looked back at the blank screen. Should she even wake him up? If he was already asleep, no matter how uncomfortable he looked, he’d probably wake up in a foul mood and return to sleep in an equally foul mood. She didn’t like the prospect of having to sleep alone, definitely, but –

Two arms shot out and snaked around her neck before pulling her downwards. Kaede squeaked, stumbling, before glaring at the assailant.

“If you were awake, then you could’ve trundled up to the bedroom yourself,” she huffed, gripping Ouma’s arms and ready to pull them off. She didn’t have the chance to – Ouma pulled her down, off her feet, and knocked the wind out of her when she bumped against the base of the couch. “Hey, watch it!”

Ouma laughed, burying his face in the crook of her neck where she couldn’t see his face. “G’nigh’, ‘kamutsu-chan,” he yawned, voice muffled.

Kaede debated on shoving him off and dragging him by the collar of his shirt off the couch, then decided against disrupting his beauty sleep since – after all – he had attempted to stay up for her. (Which was probably the sweetest thing anyone was going to get out of a person like Ouma.) She wondered when he’d stop calling her by her surname, too. Not that she could really tell him off on that.

She pulled her neck up into the most awkward, most strained angle before huffing against his arm.

“Hey, this is a horrible position.”

How was he not complaining? She stunk like yesterday’s junk.


Emergency contact

Send me requests!!

Request: 16 with Ashton (it was also asked for Luke and Calum but i have almost no Ashton so…..)

It’s not that you don’t love your brother’s friends. It’s just that they’re a bit intimidating. Not even physically, despite how tall and muscular and pierced and tattooed they are, and how they always wear black, but because you’re kind of in love with their music.

So whenever they come home and want to hang with your brother, it’s sort of awkward for you, especially since when they left to explore the world, you were only fourteen, so they’ll always see you as this kind of baby girl.

But personally…you’re not looking at them form a very sisterly perspective, to be honest. Especially not Ashton. With his winning smile, beautiful hazel eyes, incredible talent and endearing giggle, it’s safe to say the drummer has won you over, and this has only increased through the years, as every time they visit, you fall a little bit more into the pit that is Ashton’s lane.

You’ve always had to hide it as well, because your brother has always been closest to Ashton and will definitely tell him all about it if you reveal your crush. And even though you’re eighteen now, Ashton would probably find it extremely weird and not want to hang out with you anymore, which is basically the stuff your nightmares are made of.

The boys are on a break for a few weeks between the European and American leg of the tour, and they’re having a gaming night at your place right now.

Yawning, you plop down on the comforter next to the sofa as you watch them play FIFA, which you’ve always found incredibly boring. Ashton raises his head as he notices you.

“Ah, finally, someone who can help me out. Tell them FIFA sucks.”

“FIFA sucks,” you say blandly, and are met with empty stares from Luke and Calum, as well as a middle finger from your brother.

Michael is so absorbed in the game he doesn’t even budge. With a drawn-out sigh, Ashton stands up from the couch.

“Let’s do something more exciting,” he tells you, and despite the the way your heart jumps to your throat at the prospect of spending more time with him, you have to shake your head.

“I have plans this afternoon. I’m waiting for a friend to pick me up right now.”

“Oh, okay,” he says, and you’re too distracted by your phone dinging to notice the way his tone is laced with disappointment.

Your friend picks you up and the both of you spend the afternoon drinking beers in the park and catching up, telling each other about life in your respective universities. She asks about 5SOS as well, being a fan just like you, so you talk about how they are in real life – just as loud and idiotic and endearing as they seem.

By the time you’re done talking, it’s getting late. Your friend offers to take you back but you wave her off, knowing the drive home to her place is quite long. You’ll just take a bus.

But of course you just have to be the stupidest person ever and you realize too late that the bus you usually take doesn’t run after 7pm. You try taking another one, but twenty minutes into the ride, you’re the only one left on the bus and you have to admit to yourself that you have no idea where you are.

Cursing yourself, you exit at the next station and grab your phone, about to call your brother, when you slip down the steps of the bus and fall head-first onto the pavement. Your vision darkens for a few seconds, a searing pain piercing through your skull.

Distantly you feel someone shaking your shoulder, but you’re dizzy and your head hurts and it’s too hard to really focus on what the person’s saying. You hear them mumble something into a phone about coming to get you and that it’s not too bad, and then zone out for a bit before a pair of strong arms pulls you up to your feet.

You blink in confusion, and recognize Ashton with a jolt.

“Ashton? What–What are you doing here?”

“Your driver called me,” he says, nodding towards the bus driver who smiles a little awkwardly.

“Thank you,” you say softly to the driver before falling a little against Ashton’s chest.

His arms automatically go around you and he thanks the driver again before leading you away. You lean against him, your head still turning again.

“Why am I your emergency contact?” Ashton asks, sounding a little amused and a lot confused.


“The driver called me cause I was your emergency contact.”

“Oh. This was my brother’s phone, I didn’t really change anything.”

“Oh okay. Are you alright?” He asks, staring down at you in concern.

You hum noncommitally, wishing you could just fall asleep in his arms and not have to think anymore. Also he smells really good, and his muscles are nice. Ashton giggles and your eyes shoot open.

“Thank you,” he chuckles, and you groan as you realize you said that out loud.

“I probably have a concussion right now, cut me some slack.”

“You don’t have a concussion,” Ashton disagrees. “The driver said you were okay, just a little roughed up. How did you even manage to fall?”

“I’m a clumsy person okay?” You pout, trying to concentrate on where you’re walking.

“You know this is not what I meant when I said we should do something more exciting,” Ashton remarks, and you swat at his arm, making him laugh.

He helps you into his car and you doze off in the passenger seat, your tiredness and pain mixed with the soft music playing on the radio making you drowsy. You barely notice when Ashton stops the car and pulls you into his arms. He carries you into your house and up the flight of stairs to your room.

You let out an appreciative noise, mumbling a soft:

“I knew there was a reason you were my favorite member of the band.”

He giggles again, the sound going straight to your poor, abused heart, and lays you down on your bed. You pat the space next to you half-heartedly, but to your surprise he has no qualms sitting next to you, nor helping you out of your jeans and into some more comfortable sleep shorts.

“I’m glad you’re my emergency contact,” you chuckle into your pillow as you make yourself comfortable and ready to sleep. “I don’t think my real brother would have taken so good care of me.”

“I am not your other brother,” Ashton protests.

“True, sorry. You’re away too much for us to be like before. Sorry I’m rambling I’m tired and probably concussed.”

“You’re not concussed,” Ashton disagrees once again, but by then you’re too far gone to answer him.

He watches the rise and fall of your chest, the way your eyelashes flutter against your cheekbones, the way your curl into a small ball as you fall asleep.

“Never really saw you as a sister in the first place,” he adds in a whisper.

Written Emotions

Summary: When Nico agreed with the whole writing on a post-it note fiasco to release his pent up feelings, he was so sure he never agreed for an annoying stranger picking up his notes and trying to communicate back as being part of the deal. But maybe it’s all good, it’s harmless… to bad he forgot to check on his own emotions.



Regular talk

“How are you feeling?”

“Do you have to ask that same question everytime I’m forced to be here?” Nico scoffed. He didn’t want to be there but everyone says he should.

Because he needed medication. He needs to get better.

Because he needed the help.

“This is standard procedure, Mr. di Angelo” The Doctor tried speaking as calmly as he can “I’m doing everything in my power to help you. Now would you please cooperate?”

Nico inwardly scoffed. It’s not going to work anyway. Why won’t they just accept the fact that it’s all futile?

He can’t be saved.

“You’re giving your doctor a hard time. That’s not good, Nico” Hazel chided her brother as she drew the curtains open giving a bit of light inside the usually darkened room. Nico winced slightly once the sun rays hit his pale skin.

“Not my fault the doctor’s incompetent”

“He’s only trying to help you get better” Hazel scolded

“I can’t be saved. The earlier we all accept the fact, the easier we’ll be able to get over it”

The girl sighed. “This is not good, Nico. You should start helping yourself. Just stop, okay? Stop confiding on your negative thoughts. We’re going to find a cure so just hold on, please? For me?”

“…Stop looking at me like that”

Hazel blinked innocently “Looking like what?”

“That! Your pleading look that I can’t say no to!”

Keep reading


raúl esparza via comic con (2014).