give me a job on set or something

3. Wingman // Nurseydex

« {Part 3 of my Valentine’s collection.} »

a/n: sorry, this is two days late, but it’s also almost 3k, so…. hopefully that makes up for the tardiness? also! please note that this fic doesn’t have anything to do with ngozi’s short comic, wingman. your characters are safe. content warning for underage alcohol usage.

This is definitely not what Dex signed up for.

He’d expected Nursey Patrol to involve limiting Nursey’s shots and keeping him from dancing on tables, which, okay, would have sucked, but this is honestly not much better.

“Soooo, have you met Dex?” Nursey says for the third time this night, like imitating Neil Patrick Harris is still funny. He’s dragged Dex over to yet another group of female athletes that he’s going to have to do his best to avoid for the next three years of his college career. Nice.

“Hi,” Dex says awkwardly. “I’m Dex.”

“Pssh, I just said that,” Nursey says, slinging an arm over Dex’s shoulder and leaning on him only a little more heavily than he might have done sober. “He’s usually a lot brighter than this, ladies. He’s a CompSci major­—super smart with computers and shit. Plus all that typing means he’s good with his fingers, if you know what I mean. Just look at those hands—”

“Okay, that’s enough, Nurse. Sorry, you guys, um. Bye.”

He pulls Nursey away from the girls and—fuck, he’s pretty sure one of them is in his Stats class, dammit. Nursey stumbles behind him obediently, letting Dex drag him over to the kitchen. Dex fills Nursey a glass of water and Nursey drinks it dutifully, standing next to the fridge.

“Okay, so remind me why you’re trying to humiliate me in front of half of Samwell’s female population?” Dex demands when Nursey finishes the glass.

“‘M not humiliating you,” Nursey insists, then waggles his ridiculous eyebrows. “I’m trying to get you laid.”

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I owe the life I live today to fandom. It’s a bit complicated.

I am an artist in her late twenties, working as an illustrator full time (meaning somehow I actually convinced people to pay me for drawing all day). I own a decently sized flat in a big city and while I struggle with mental health issues, I am coping and getting better. I get to see the world and work with international teams and have close friends I can count on. And that’s all because I was brave enough as a teen to post some fanwork on the internet.

Let me explain myself some more. 

Keep reading

Mendicus: Part 1

Pecunia (Money)

Written for @icecream-and-gadreel for donating to my Supernatural Seattle 2017 Gift!

Pairing: soulless!Sam x Reader

Word Count: 2,475

Warnings: sub!soulless!Sam,  public teasing (male receiving), dirty talk, sex toy shop, car-shaming (is that even a warning?), mentions of sex workers.

Summary: Tired of Sam’s dominating ways, the reader convinces Sam to be a little submissive for once. 

It was February, the weather was in between being too warm in the day and too cold at night, and you were currently in one of the busiest, most beautiful cities in the United States of America

Vegas week had finally arrived. You, Sam, and Dean were granted a full seven days off from the dangerous world of hunting. The city was crowded, as usual, but you found a reasonable motel on the outskirts. Within an hour you were settled in and relatively comfortable, and you decided to get your own room for once. You deserved a little “me” time.

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aesircast  asked:

So let's say, in theory, someone drew a lineart of Nina and wanted to color it (hypothetically). Would Manbanras' color scheme be accurate, or do you have something else in mind? Also, I wanna say, numerous people have asked me how my own naga would fit into a modern setting, but seeing Nina is the first time I've seriously considered it. Something about predatory nagas having to work a crappy/boring job just gives me the giggles.

Her original color scheme was this but I think I might stick with Manbanras’ colors, They’re really good oh man, I always second guess myself when it comes to picking colors. 

Nina was originally gonna be in a more fantasy setting which is why she has the costume, but I wanted her to interact with more of my modern setting characters like Lucy and I figured it would be more funny this way. 

How To Change A Fuqboi (Jungkook)

Word Count: 2,917

Loosely inspired by the song “Fuqboi” by Hey Violet

Rated M (language and suggestive content)

Originally posted by donewithjeon

How to Change a Fuqboi

Volume 1: Happenstance (Jungkook)
Volume 2: For-Getting His Attention (Jimin)
Volume 3: Boning and Binding (Taehyung)
Volume 4: One and Done (Yoongi)
Volume 5: Unintentional Liar (Seokjin)
Volume 6: To Be Loved (Namjoon)
Volume 7: Checklist (Hoseok)


Step 1) Get acquainted*

Obviously, first you need to find him, that “Netflix and Chill” guy who thinks it’s cool to recycle pick up lines from pop songs, ask for “pics” within the first five messages of a conversation, and has the nasty little habit of borrowing his mom’s earrings. They’re everywhere, so really, it shouldn’t be that difficult.

You retrace your steps carefully, gaze glued to the ground. It has to be around here somewhere.

Of course the day you convince your father to let you wear your late grandmother’s silver bracelet, you’d go and lose it.

Maybe it’s along the path you take to your car. Maybe it’s back in your oceanography class. Maybe someone found it and…

Anxiety rips through your veins.

No, it has to be somewhere- you just need to remember where it fell off. Your feet stop carrying you forward as they reach the classroom, bracelet still nowhere to be seen. This is your last chance, so taking a deep breath to futilely fend off the disappointment and subsequent panic, you push open the door.

The professor has long since left and the next session, which you think might be a discussion class, probably won’t start for another half an hour, thus you are mildly surprised to find a student lounging in your exact seat, scrolling through messages on his phone, but also idly fiddling with a VERY familiar piece of fine jewelry.

“Hey!” the rude cry escapes your lips before you can stop it.

The boy looks up, immediately making eye contact and freezing you to the spot. Calling him attractive would do this masterpiece no justice. His muscular shoulders and arms fill out his black t-shirt beautifully, matched with a pair of perfect legs complimented by ripped jeans. And his FACE… his sultry eyes are partially hidden behind sun kissed bangs, hair messily parted slightly to the side in a way that makes it WORK and a jawline so sharp it could split thread.


You immediately know what he is, the coil in your stomach makes it clear, a heartbreaker- nay, a fuck boy. You firmly believe in the live and let live policy, but after the last time, you don’t think you could handle another emotional roller coaster.

It’s almost painful to maintain his gaze, so you drop yours to your feet, voice wavering, “I’m sorry…I… I think that’s my bracelet.”

“Is it?” his voice is the auditory equivalent of tasting thick cake frosting and a smirk quirks the left corner of his lips upward.

“Yes,” you affirm, though sound anything but sure.

“How do I know you aren’t just trying to steal it?” he arches an eyebrow, pinching the bracelet between his index finger and thumb, lifting it for inspection.

You run your fingers through your hair, finding the courage to look at him again, half flustered, half frustrated, “It’s my grandmother’s. Please.”

“Well anyone could say that,” he shrugs, either doing a stellar job at feigning concern or actually (albeit stereotypically) breaking character by showing interest in something that isn’t related to his pleasure, sexual or otherwise.

“Then how can I prove it to you?” you know you sound desperate now, but what else can you do? That’s REAL silver he’s holding.

His smile widens until he’s flashing you a perfect set of pearly whites, “First off, you can tell me your name. I’m Jungkook, by the way.”

*Addendum: acquainted, not to be confused with “friendly” or “intimate.”

Step 2) Keep everything on your** terms

Conversations are, obviously, give and take, push and pull, but try not to lose ground whenever possible. Give a fuqboi an inch and they’ll shove it down your pants.

You waste no time answering his question and Jungkook bobs his head in acknowledgement, a rich hum leaving his throat before he replies, “Alright, nice to meet you. Why don’t you come take a seat so we can talk?”

His suggestion is friendly, innocent enough, and he hasn’t tried anything so far, but hesitation still laces your movements. The seat is cold against your skin, thighs slightly exposed as your skirt settles awkwardly. You pull at the hem, trying to save your decency, cheeks burning for reasons you can’t fathom (or choose not to), voice hoarse, “Can I have my bracelet now?”

“Do you have proof yet?” his tone is teasing.

“Touché,” you sigh, glancing at the clock. Twenty five minutes.

“I think I should keep it safe until I’m sure,” the coyness in his tone is nauseating, “We could-”

On an impulse, tired of this bullshit song and dance, you lurch forward, making a desperate grab for the prize, but Jungkook seems to be one step ahead of you as he, in one motion, collects the silver chain and hides it in his fist.

“Ah, getting antsy are we?” he chuckles. Yes, chuckles. You attempt to withdraw immediately, cheeks coloring, but he catches your wrist with his free hand, “Maybe I won’t think about it so hard if you, say, give me a kiss?”

Jungkook doesn’t fight as you pull away like he’d burned you. It’s not a secret that you REALLY want that bracelet; yet you have NO idea where those lips have been. If you’d been friends- heck, if you had known the guy for more than five minutes, it would have been a POSSIBILITY, but you’d only met… well okay, seven minutes ago.

Still, what other options are available? You can’t really ask a third party for help because as much as you hate it, he’s right. You’ve got NO proof that the bracelet is yours. Jungkook has all the cards and he knows it. The worst part is, he probably knows you know he knows it.

“What if we start by exchanging numbers?” you offer, tearing your gaze away from his hand to force a smile at his face.

His amused grin easily sinks back into a cocky half-smirk, “Sure. Give me your phone and I’ll take care of everything.”

“What? So you have my phone AND my bracelet?” you can’t help yourself.

Jungkook leans forward a bit, resting his cheek against the heel of his palm, sharp gaze boring into your eyes, “Verses giving you my phone and risk letting you hold it hostage until I give you the bracelet?”

He has a point.

With a guttural sound of uncomfortable irritation, you pull the device from your pocket and thrust it at him.

“Thanks babes,” the pet name rolls off of his tongue easily and Jungkook wastes no time slipping his number into your contact list and shooting himself a text. The audacity of some people… well, at least it’s on your terms, not his.

Twenty more minutes-

The door opens, shattering the illusion of isolation. You startle subtly, turning to glare at your newest companion and the fresh hell that’s sure to ensue, but you’re genuinely surprised to find a middle aged woman toting a rolling backpack behind her.

“Hello, professor,” Jungkook gives a chipper greeting that grates on your nerves.

“Hello, Mr. Jeon,” she gives him a smile of acknowledgment before turning on the projector and setting up her computer.

I guess you were a little off on your estimation of thirty minutes.

Your gaze flits to where you know the piece of fine jewelry lies, which is still secured tightly in his fist, “Please, Jungkook. Just give me the bracelet.”

The smallest amount of hope blossoms in you that, in front of his teacher, he may show mercy. But it dies immediately as he slowly shakes his head, tapping his cheek, “Only if you give me a kiss. Doesn’t even have to be on the lips.”


“No,” you insist, standing. “I guess I better leave then.”

“Oh c’mon,” Jungkook practically whines, though the amusement is still heavily present in his expression, “Don’t be like that…”

Without another word, you take your leave, deciding that as long as the bracelet is “safe” with him, you’ll be able to live with it; but for course, only until you figure out how to steal it back.

**Clarification: not “YOURS” exactly, but he should not have complete control of the situation.

Step 3) Don’t fall for his silly*** tricks

These often include but are not limited to intensive verbal flirting, lingering touches, and intentionally prolonged eye contact.

It takes less than ten minutes for your phone to light up with the first text message.

jKoOk OppA: miss ya arleady babes~

It seems as if autocorrect can’t even cover up his douche-ness, though the contact name he input is enough to force a shudder run down your spine.

Me: …?

jKoOk OppA: [(1) Attachment]

Your lips purse in concentration as you contemplate not opening it. With the kind of guy he is, there’s no telling what it could be. Then again, he’s in class so there’s a very limited amount of damage he could do.

Your thumb presses down with only mild hesitation and a picture pops up of your dangling silver bracelet. You sigh in relief. Okay, maybe he’s blackmailing you- or is it blackmailing? He’s holding a piece of YOUR property hostage and demanding… demanding what? This far, a kiss, but that was a joke, right?

Whatever the case, it could be much, much worse and you decide that MAYBE he deserves a chance. After all, he hasn’t done anything TOO bad. Yet. So you decide to play along with his little game for now because what’s the harm?

Me: Did it really have to be “oppa?”

jKoOk OppA: yess ;)

And of course you just really, REALLY want your bracelet.

A few days pass, during which you fervently try to keep the conversation going in order to get this boy’s approval, but the only progress you seem to make is finally changing his contact name. Jungkook just seems to be interested in flirting (big surprise), but stays somewhat on topic by sending you pictures of your stolen possession every day.

This morning, you even get him in the shot, lips pursed, one eyelid dropped in a wink, and this thoughtful message attached:

Kook Boy: mayb you could retrun the favor today??? ;)))

You decide to not grace him with a response, but you can’t help the stupid smile that pulls at your lips. Okay, at this point you can’t deny the fact that you like the attention and sometimes humor him by flirting back. Jungkook always says (or types, as you haven’t really spoken since meeting him because, no matter how long you wait, he seems intent on not showing up for his class on time) the right things, making you blush. And obviously, he’s HOT, for lack of better words.

But the thought that he’s probably saying those very things to ten other girls, making them blush too, is always present at the back of your mind. You’re not special. He just happens to be holding something of value hostage. For all you know, that’s his strategy and…

This argument has been running your mind in circles for about sixteen hours straight now, interrupted only by your sad attempt at four full hours of sleep. It’s so distracting that you use it as today’s excuse to not pay attention to the oceanography lecture, taking precedence over worrying about that essay you’ll need to power through tonight in order to turn it in tomorrow morning.

It would be so easy jut to give in to his demand. A single kiss, “not even on the lips,” and the bracelet would be yours, but then you’d have no reason to talk to him- unless you’d be willing to break your “no more fuck boys” rule.

This seems simple enough, but you deserve better.

It is around this metaphorical mental lap that your phone decides to give off that special vibration, the three staccato hums that you set specifically for THAT number.

Your hands shake as you reach for the device to subtly glance at the message below the desk.

Kook Boy: Hey babes, wassup??? ;D

Me: Boooored in class ;-; wbu?

Kook Boy: ^^ thinking…

Me: About what??

Kook Boy: :’)

Me: Mmmm I’ll take a guess. Me?? lol

Kook Boy: Maaaaybe

Me: Good thoughts? O_O

Kook Boy: [(1) Attachment]

“But he’s already sent me the hostage picture of my bracelet…?” is exactly the line of thought that indirectly leads to you dropping your phone with the loudest fucking clatter ever, interrupting your teacher’s carefully designed powerpoint about tide cycles, and exposing the dick pic to the entire class.

Any affection you might have had for Jungkook is instantly wiped away in a flood of adrenaline and an avalanche of humiliation.

You scramble to pick up the device, but the damage has already been done. The people immediately around you are audibly smothering laughter or blatantly showing looks of disgust. The only thing that saves the dregs of your dignity is the fact that you’re sitting near the middle of the room and the professor can’t see the screen, though he does cast a glance of irritation in your direction.

Once the phone is back in your pocket, you bury your face in your arms, wanting to die.

You’re so put off by the entire situation that you fail to notice both the class ending and everyone exiting the room. The only thing that draws your attention out of the bottomless vortex of slight self hatred and complete loss of faith in humanity are the three short vibrations.

For whatever ungodly reason, you decide to look at the new message.

Kook Boy: lololol sorry beb wrong person~~

Just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, he confirms your suspicions that there ARE other girls and holy fuck he’s sending them dick pics.

You feel physically sick, bile threatening to rise up your throat.

Judging by his lack of appearances over the past couple of weeks, you take solace in the thought that at least you won’t have to face him. But then, as if SIMPLY to prove you wrong, the door opens and life delivers you one last, stinging kick in the ass. Jungkook strolls in leisurely, like he hadn’t just mortified you beyond repair. Then again, he has no idea.

“Oh! Hey babes,” he gives you a thousand watt smile, voice lacking emotions that normal people would probably feel after sending a misplaced text, such as embarrassment or regret.

That look on your face… I’m not sure if it’s annoyance or humiliation, but either way the only thing you want to do is melt into your seat. Maybe the floor too, whatever it takes to disappear.

He sits next to you, dumping the relatively empty backpack at his feet and adjusting the unbuttoned collar of his blue shirt with tacky, dark blue pineapples printed all over it.

You hate him and his low neckline, sun kissed hair, and cocky smirk.

Much to your irritation, heat pools in the pit of your stomach and you do the only natural thing. You stand, haphazardly gathering your belongings in your arms, and briskly say, “You know what? Just keep the damn bracelet.”

Jungkook’s expression immediately falls into one of shock, “Babes, what are you-?”

Your words get high pitched with exasperation, “Do you even know my name?”


“Then what is it?” your tone is nothing less than venomous, and rightly so.

His fingers rake through his hair, “S- no… Ch…”

“You DON’T know,” you accuse, more angry at yourself for knowingly wasting your time than at him.

“Is this about the picture?” he sounds more confused than anything.

“Yes- no- it doesn’t matter! You were just using me. For what? I don’t know, but I also don’t care. Have a good life, Jungkook. Don’t worry about texting me anymore,” you are prepared to shoulder your way past the door, but once again, his intoxicating voice stops you.

And this time, it’s only two words, spoken in a tone that thoroughly perplexes you: sorrow.

“Wait, please.”

***Definition: Silly, in this case meaning less than savory, but often presented as suave or sincere.

Step 4) Give up and realize that he’ll never change****

You don’t turn to face him, instead simply listening to his next actions. Jungkook unzips his backpack and rises, walking toward you. He stops at a respectable distance, but is still close enough to suggest the smallest amount of intimacy.

The boy gently takes one of your hands, guiding it away from your books, turning it so that your palm faces up. Into it, he drops something cold, tearing your eyes away from the hallway, your route of escape to find the silver bracelet.

He clears his throat, “Here… I’m sorry that I upset you.”

Your fingers close around the metal chain and you decide that one last glance will be okay. Jungkook’s brown eyes easily meet yours and a small, sad smile slides onto his lips. Without another word, you slowly pull away and let the door close between you.

It takes several therapeutic hours of walking around campus aimlessly for you to come to a decision, but you eventually gather enough courage to take out your phone.

The device seems to weigh a metric ton and your fingers feel stiff as you type, but somehow, you manage to complete the message, giving one last, self-affirming nod before hitting the send button.

Me: I forgive you.

****Correction: he’ll never change, unless HE wants to.


A/N: So there’s a 75% chance I’d do one of these for each of the members if people want to read it.



♥Come mid MARCH(pushed back a bit) I will selling some pins, mirror, and selfie Photo cards! They come in sets! 17$ and everything above. There are 7 pins, 1 pocket mirror(group photo), and the 7 photocards. The price will also include shipping. tracking, and packaging! ^^ That price is for US buyers only. Because it will go up for international buyers due to shipping. I will give you the best deal as possible! ^^

I am doing this to help me raise money for something very important to me and my job simply does not give me enough hours!

I have many buyers set up all ready, so if you want to buy a set all you have to is REBLOG this post. I will gladly put your name down for a set. Then I will notify your as soon as I get everything.

I accept pay pal and money orders~ ^^ No payment accepted until I get goods. This is just for I can get an idea of how many people are interest


wow. You lolirock fans sure do love you some Talisto (which is great cos me tooo!!!) I recently got my very own comic published and that is taking up 100% of the time I am not at my day job, so fandoms will be set to the back burner for awhile. But. I wanted to leave a few of my “finished” stills from 3 seperate videos Im working on that follow the Blue storyline, All Talisto. All fluff. 

I am giving no context except things- Mephisto  is SUPER annoying in this series and I LOVE HIM for it. 
*songs being used: Shut up and kiss me (Marianas Trench), Something That We’re Not (Demi Lovato) and a mysterrryyyyyy song 

anonymous asked:

Emma and Regina are worried about Henry as he hits puberty, so they sit down with Charming and ask him for help

Thanks for the prompt :) 

Charming drums his fingers nervously against his knee as he looks at Regina. He rarely spends any time with her alone, they’re always with their partners or at family dinners and he finds he has no idea how to fill the awkward silence. 

Regina smiles back at him feeling the tension in the room as she announces, “Emma will be back in a minute.” 

Luckily her girlfriend returns passing Charming his requested water before shaking her head, “You know you two can talk without me being here right?” 

“We know,” Regina replies, “i’m just nervous…”

Charming raises a brow, setting aside his drink as he asks, “Should I be scared?” 

“No,” Emma assures him, “it’s just um…Henry…”

“He’s becoming a teenager,” Regina continues. 

“I know,” Charming replies, “You’ve both done an incredibly job with him, he’s an amazing kid…is there something wrong?” 

“Not wrong per se,” Regina answers, “But uh…he’s….changing…I mean to say he’s growing up and…”

“He’s going through puberty and we were hoping you’d talk to him,” Emma finishes for her. 

Charming smiles proudly, “Me?” 

Regina nods, “We tried to give him the whole birds and the bees talk and it was…”

“Awkward and a disaster, I think there’s things he’d rather not talk to his Moms about.”

Charming nods, “Ah…I see…and you picked me.” 

Emma smiles, “Regina did.” 

“You did?” 

Regina nods, “We may not speak often Charming but I trust you, we both do.” 

Hi there! I could do with your help. I’m still having issues with the landlord who has caused me problems since summer. I can’t get out of the tenancy so I’m paying two sets of rent still. I’ve got a full-time job as well as being a student, so I will soon get money to pay for the next final months. But my gas, electric, and the two sets of rent come out of my account and I don’t even have enough for one set of the rent. If you could please help me out by sending money to on PayPal I would be really grateful. If you would like something in return like a drawing/painting pls let me know. Also, if you would like me to pay you back then please give me your details in return. Happy to share anything of yours if it would help you out because I’m in so much trouble if I can’t cover all of this. Anything would help right now because I’m low on food too haha! There’s light at the end of the tunnel, but it’ll take a bit too long to get to if I don’t ask for help. If you can’t offer monetary help, then please share it to someone who might. I’m really in a pickle right now. Thank you for reading and sorry that I’m asking! 

rboooks  asked:

“I’m an alchemist, and you’re my ever-so-patient assistant who finds me the random ingredients I ask for, I really need to find a way to thank you.” Au with MarcoAce please?

Ace stumbles over his own feet as he slams the door to Marco’s workshop open, grinning in triumph. Marco raises an eyebrow as he barely catches himself before slamming into the floor.

“I got it!”

“Got it,” Marco repeats in confusion.

“The metal you wanted! It was hard and it took ages to track it down, but here you go!” He thrusts the basket out to Marco brightly. “You still want it, don’t you? I didn’t mean to take so long.”

“No, thank you, I was hoping you would find it,” Marco promises already remembering the project in question. “Thank you for such commitment to the project.”

“I’m your assistant, that’s my job.”

It was, Marco knew, but he was certain that Ace wasn’t suppose to be run quite so ragged trying to track down the finicky bits and pieces for all of Marco’s projects. If it wasn’t for Ace and his talent for finding things, and Marco wondered if that talent was just a talent or something else, more than a few of his projects would have never reached completion.

“Still, thank you. Have you eaten yet?” Marco asks. Ace’s stomach growls and Marco smiles. “I suppose that is a no. Come on, I’ve got lunch cooked and it’s not like my project is going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Thanks,” Ace says dropping into a chair.

“It’s the least I can do for all the help you give me.”

“It’s my job.”

Marco sets a plate on the table before him, “Eat up. I’m going to start this up.” He wiggles the basket.

Ace waves him off, already devouring his lunch, he would probably go back for seconds before Marco heard anything from him.

He sorts through the bits of metal, most of them were perfect for what he wanted to attempt and the few that weren’t would work well with another project that Marco had been tossing around. Honestly, he needed to find something to pay Ace back for all of his superb work. Most alchemists weren’t half as lucky to find such a dedicated assistant.

And Ace never gave up.

Marco had been given ingredients for projects that he had asked for years ago when Ace finally tracked them down. He had tried to give Ace a pay raise and that hadn’t worked and he had tried to make him take a vacation only for him to bring back an entirely new species of a plant that Marco liked.

“I’m gonna head back out to get those tulips you need,” Ace says finally. “You want anything else?”

“I’m fine.”

The tulips weren’t even for anything. It was just because Ace refused to do nothing and Marco didn’t want to send him too far away again. He was going to tear his hair out trying to repay his assistant.

“You okay?” Marco jumps looking at Ace in surprise. “You look tired again.”

“I’m fine.”

Ace frowns, “Are you sure?”

“I’m fine.”

“Here,” Ace leans in close, brushing his lips over Marco’s forehead, flushing as soon as he pulled back. “Makino says that kisses make things better. So you should feel better now.”

Marco stares after him in surprise, eyes wide as the door slams shut behind Ace, finally dropping his head onto his desk.

“He’s too cute,” Marco needed to figure out how to repay him.

I know.

Pairing: Blaine Debeers x Reader 
Fandom: Izombie
Warnings: ——
Summary: Christmas with Blaine 
Author’s note: My sister is in love with Blaine and wanted me to write something. Again I must apologize if there’s some grammar mistakes I’m spanish. Anyway, enjoy. 

It was Christmas Eve.
Ravi’s house was filled with Christmas atmosphere, there were socks hanging upon the fireplace, beautiful lights everywhere, a bunch of presents under the tree and “Rudolph the red nose Reindeer” was playing on the radio. But even if everything looked so peaceful from the outside from the inside was very different. Everyone was stressed.
Ravi was running around the kitchen trying to have everything under control, controlling the turkey in the oven, cutting vegetables for the salad, washing some dishes… you meanwhile were trying to prepare the pudding as fast as you could and at the same time Major was setting up the table.  
Tonight, Liv was coming to dinner and she was going to bring her new boyfriend, Lowell. That’s why you (with Major’s help) prepared really spicy pasta so they could taste at least something.
Ravi approached to you with a worried look in his eyes.

“(Y/N), tell me you bought the champagne, I can’t find it anywhere.”

“What? No. That was Major’s job.” You said giving him a confusion look. Ravi put his hand on his forehead and started to panic- “Ok, calm down Ravi you’re making me more nervous than I already am. Major!”

Major appeared in the kitchen with a candle and a lighter in his hands. When he saw Ravi he gave you a very confusing look as if he was wondering why his friend was so … nervous.

“You forgot the champagne.” You said, shrugging-

“Oh, crap!” Major left the candle and the lighter in the kitchen table and started to check his pockets- Don’t worry, I’ll get in a near shop or something.

“Run! Run or I will kill you Major Lilywhite!” Ravi shouted, but Major was already closing the door-

Ravi always panicked when something was wrong in any celebration he was preparing and that made you laugh.  
You met him three years ago when you arrived from New York to Seattle looking for a house and a job after your father died. You found the job in the morgue and that’s where you and Ravi became good friends, you two were always together, drinking in a bar, playing video games, watching a movie in the cinema…so after two months Ravi told you he needed a roommate and you accepted the offer without hesitations. Eighteen months later you met Liv and Major and after knowing that he was looking for a flat you and Ravi agreed to let him move to your house.
You loved your friends; they were the most perfect human (and zombie) beings in the world, but although you had the most wonderful friends of all time you missed someone.

“(Y/N) where is the salt?”  Ravi was by your side moving his hand in front of your face, but you were lost in your thoughts to realize that “Heeeey, earth to (Y/N).”

You blinked a few times and went to the dining room to pick the salt for Ravi.


He gave you a worried look and then put a hand in your shoulder; he knew that something was wrong.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing Ravi” You smiled at him but he was not going to let you go until you told him what was worrying you, he was very persistent sometimes. You sighed “I’m thinking about him… It’s Christmas and maybe he is alone. It makes me sad.”

Ravi disliked Blaine but he knew how you felt about him despite knowing all the things he has done. He was always nice to you; he visited you while you were working and invited you to fancy restaurants and cocktail bars. He was a really charming and funny guy and you loved to spend time with him, unfortunately you never found the courage to tell him how you felt. You were afraid about being rejected.

“Do you want to be with him?” Ravi asked, smiling sadly. You knew the answer and that made you feel sorry for your friends, you didn’t want to leave them but the thought of Blaine been alone in his apartment made your heart shrink “You can leave if you want (Y/N)… no one here is going to judge you.”

“I can’t leave… Lowell is going to bring his guitar; I promised I was going to sing something with him after the dinner…”

“Hey, Lowell will understand the situation… you can sing with him other day.”

“Damn it Ravi, why you have to be such a good friend?” That wasn’t a question. He was the best friend you ever had, even if Christmas was his favorite holiday he put your happiness over his.

“Go” He laughed

You gave him a soft smile and ran upstairs to your room to pick the present you bought for Blaine. You stopped in front of the mirror a few seconds to check your hair and makeup and then ran downstairs to get to your car.

You’ve been in Blaine’s apartment once, when he was going to have lunch with you but he forgot to pick one of his “deliveries” so the two of you had to return and grab the yellow bag and give it to Julien. It was a bit disturbing but you forgot it when you started to talk with Blaine.
Before arriving to his apartment you stopped in a Chinese restaurant and bought food, you didn’t know if Blaine liked noodles considering that he was a zombie a few months ago, but you had no idea what to bring to him.

You had to knock three times before he opened the door.  Blaine looked as good as always even if his hair was a mess and he was holding a bottle of wine.

“Are you drunk?” You asked raising your eyebrow-

“No.”  He smiled. You crossed your arms “A bit. C’mon in” Blaine closed the door behind you and you noticed few empty wine bottles in the kitchen table “I thought you were going to spend the night with the good doctor and company.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want you to be alone. It’s Christmas.” You placed the food on the table and started unpacking everything

“Are you worried about me?” Blaine chuckled

That gesture made you feel sad because no one in his life worried about him. The only person who loved Blaine was his grandfather and now he was in a residence in a vegetative state.
No matter who he was you could never push him away. That was the problem, everyone did the same to him. Obviously you wanted him to stop murdering people to sell their brains to zombies, but even though he didn’t you never once thought about leaving him alone.

“I bought Chinese food, I hope you like it” You said, avoiding the question. He approached you and started to check what you bought but he stopped when he saw a paper bag with a ribbon.

“What’s that?”

“Your Christmas present, duh.” You rolled your eyes; it was obvious you got him a Christmas present, I mean, you LOVED Blaine although he didn’t know.

“I haven’t celebrated Christmas since I was eight” He confessed, you looked at him sadly, but he was wearing a smile “Wait here”

And that’s what you did. Sitting on a chair you poured yourself a glass of wine and started to drink. Two minutes later Blaine appeared with a tiny box in his hands and gave it to you.

“What’s this?”

“Your Christmas present, duh.” He answered in the same tone you did a moment ago

You couldn’t do anything but laugh, he really was a funny guy. You opened the box and let out a little surprise scream when you saw the golden necklace with a small heart and a tiny diamond in the middle. He bought you a freaking gold necklace. You looked at him directly to his blue eyes and hold back the tears that wanted to escape from your eyes.

“I’m not good with feelings and I’ll stop if you want me to but…” he murmured, gently cupping the back of your neck “I hope you don’t.”

You gave him a smile and pressed your lips to his. The sparks that raced along your skin at the contact made heat blossom on your cheeks.  He is gentle, he kisses you with love. Nobody knows this side of Blaine, but you are more than glad to be the only one.

“I…” You started to say with a smile, but he stopped you.

“I know.”

And you two kissed again.

Some fans don’t seem to be taking Cait’s joke well:

This is an example of the lack of enthusiasm for Cait’s tweet that some fans have been expressing: 

“She might think she’s joking around but can it really be joking around when the perception of reality from many is that you show very little interest or enthusiasm for your show, your job or your profession?? Hmm…”


It’s just sad to me that certain fans are letting some recent disappointments prevent them from appreciating Sam and Cait. I think they give us a lot. Yes, Cait has set some boundaries to protect her privacy. But she has done lots of promo for the show. People who saw her at ECCC said she was warm and verra friendly.

I guess I don’t get it.

Is there something I’m missing?

There’s something strangely relaxing about creating characters for the sole purpose of backstory deaths. I guess it’s a bit like seeing your child settled in a stable job while the rest of your offspring are off majoring in art history and philosophy.

Like… you’re good. You’re set. I don’t have to worry about you. You’re not going to give me any trouble, unlike *turns to glare at alive characters* SOME PEOPLE I COULD MENTION.


Hi guys I’m very happy to announce I set up my page on patreon! Supporting me will give you access to full sketchbook pages, including the full versions of the previews above, as well as alternate colours, my process work, alternate outfits on OC drawings and more! If there’s something else you’d like to see, like full size versions of artworks, please let me know!

I struggle to find work thanks to living in a city where it’s hard to get a job, and also because of disabilities. When I do work as an intern for a graphic design company, its very inconsistent and doesn’t last for a long time. I’m also not guaranteed to be supported by my family, I unfortunately found out last summer when my parents refused to give me money. Supporting me on patreon will help me build a stable income, no matter how small! Thank you for considering making a pledge to me <3

AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT - Fearlessly Day 4

This is the “rec someone else” day!! Happy reading!!!!

Day 4: Recs!

Endymion Fell by Inkystars, 

The Muse by cimmerian

a lost boy (ready to be found) by pterodactyl

Case Study by purseplayer 

Threadbare by merikg

First off, I want to say how virtually impossible it was for me to choose only five stories to recommend. We are so lucky to have such outstanding writers in this fandom. Aside from the five recs for this Author’s Spotlight, I will be posting a list of other stories I love in the near future on my Tumblr: @fearlesslysgleefics

Read on for excerpts and reasons

Keep reading

Music Video - Conor Maynard Imagine

A/N-  I love you writing!! Can you do a conor imagine for me?? One where you feel insecure and sad and you really need hug. That would be great!! Lots of love

A/N- Conors PA (personal assistant) also your close friend is going to be called Marie. 

Conor had been away for the past 2 weeks recording his new song ready to be released at the end of the month. He was also away to record the music video to go with it. I would be flying out to see him for the final week and to finally spend some quality time together. 

After landing and dropping my stuff off at the hotel, I made my way to the set Conor was filming on waiting for him to finish so we could go out for food, just the two of us. Lately i had been feeling quite down and just needed to be with the person who made me happy and smile. I missed him and couldn’t wait to see him and get a long overdue hug.

 After showing my pass to security I was showed to the set everyone was working on. Conor was in the middle of filming so i took a seat next to one of his PA’S who i got on with really well. I wasn’t told what kind of music video this was going to be but as soon as i saw the models, i got the hint. 

Obviously you would think i was fine with Conor doing music videos with models, which i am, but with the way i was feeling jealously and insecurity overtook my mind. I knew i was being stupid overthinking but i knew i was no model, i had many flaws, i wasn’t as pretty, i didn’t have the tiny figure. I wasn’t them. Sometimes i do think Conor would prefer one of them. 

“You ok Y/N?” Marie asked looking concerned. 

“Me? I’m fine” I faked smiled, i wasn’t exactly in the mood to explain my feelings when i know what the response was going to be. 

“Come on Y/N I can see right through you. Somethings wrong. You can talk to me you know” Giving me a re-ensuring smile. “It’s the reason to why you don’t come to these video sets isnt it? Seeing all the girls?” 

“How do you know?” 

“I would be the same, I wouldn’t exactly like my boyfriend being touched by models in front of my eyes” I sighed. 

“It’s his career, it’s his job. I’m not going to complain but with the way i’ve been feeling it isnt ideal being here” 

“I can tell Conor you didn’t feel well?” I loved the fact Marie would help me with anything even though she worked for him personally. 

“No it’s fine. I don’t even think he know i’ve arrived yet” Glancing over to him now working outside. 

“He has noticed, i’ve seen him look over a few times. He does care about you a lot you know”

“I know”

“No Y/N i dont think you do. Well obviously you do but you don’t realise how much. When i’m with him working he enjoys what he does but he looks forward to the day being over to call you or he rushes us all off the plane when we’ve landed so he can see you sooner. When he’s in a bad mood he watches videos of you and I always see a smile appear again. He’s head over heels for you” I couldn’t help but blush. I dont get to see that side of him. I imagine it to happen but hearing it actually does makes me feel warm inside. “Don’t feel insecure babes, i know we all do once in a while but these models have nothing on you trust me” 

I just nodded and carried on to admire Conor working. He’s always been a gentleman and I do love him dearly. And it’’s nice to see him doing what he loves. 

2 hours later and the set was coming to a close. Conor was just finishing the last edits while the rest started to head off home. Watching the models packing their stuff and talking amongst themselves looking over once in a while. Marie had gone to obverse the final edits leaving me on my own. I hated seeing people look at me i would think they’re talking about me and in this case i was right. My name was mentioned a couple of times with smirks and eye rolls in mt direction. This is literally one of my worst nightmares. 

I could feel my heart beat fasten with the sound of laughter filling the room. That insecure feeling? That had gotten worse and i could feel an anxiety attack about to happen. Picking up my bag i popped it over my shoulder and headed straight for the door. 

“Y/N?” I didn’t want to stop walking, i continued to the exit of the building, blocking out all the sounds around me. It made me jump when i felt a hand touch my shoulder with enough force to stop me in my tracks. 

“Y/N” Conor spoke again with a shaky breath almost like he ran after me. “I thought you were waiting for me? I saw you walk off without saying bye or anything” 

“Sorry, i just wanted to go, i exactly feel well” Lying through my teeth, well only kind of. 

“Yeah Marie said something about not feeling yourself, what’s wrong?” I could see the worry starting to fury in his eyes and facial expression. I didn’t like that look. 

“I just want to go back to the hotel” I tried to start walking again but he grabbed my hand before i could move any further. 

“Y/N i know you better than you know yourself. Something’s wrong and we aren’t going anywhere until you tell me” Conor firmly said. Hearing laughter coming down the corridor, we moved towards the wall allowing the models to pass through. It didn’t go a miss the looks they darted towards me either. Normally i can handle shit like that but not on this day. “You know you are better than them don’t you?” Conor was starting to click on. “Don’t get jealous” 

“I’m not jealous, only kind off-”

“Feeling insecure?” Bingo. I remanded silent. “Babe” He lifted his hand to my cheek, moving my face so i was looking directly at him. “I love you and that’s all that matters. You are perfect in every way possible. I love your beauty and flaws. Remember that” I nodded and lifted onto my tip-tops placing a soft but firm kiss on his lips. That long overdue hug made an appearance as well. Burying my head into his neck taking in his warmth and scent. I felt his lips leaving small kisses along my shoulder and one hand rubbing my back. 

“Come on i think we can order room service and have a movie night instead”

priestessofcybele  asked:

Hi John I am in the process of becoming a nurse (attending first year classes starting this fall) and was wondering if you would share your thoughts or experiences on psych nursing. My idea was to be hands on with other people and be empathetic and nurturing in some way. I have heard psych nursing is a good branch for that sort of thing but I was hoping you could offer some guidance. Thank you!

I’ve been away from the field so long that I feel like any words I’d have are kind of dispatches from a bygone age – we charted by hand when I was in nursing. What I have heard from friends still in the field is that the opportunity to honor & center that part of yourself that wants to help & heal can be hard to find. Profit motive as the underlying reality of health care in a capitalist economy poisons the ground, or depletes the soil, not sure of the metaphor I want but the money angle in health care…it does not benefit the patient, and it’s very much the governing reality now. 

I had a much longer spiel here but it sounded like the older nurses I’d talk to when I was entering the field: people who’d tell me “you already know if this is the work for you, but the field’s messed up and it’s not getting better at the moment.” Anybody still in the field can speak much more eloquently than I can about this. Experiences I had in the field brought me nearer to the self I want to be: that’s something few jobs can give you, in my view. It’s worth it. But if I were just setting out now, I’d think very seriously about moving abroad, and do a lot of research into whether there are programs out there that might help me with the process. American health care has many of the best practitioners in the world, and they’re almost all working within a system whose first duty is to something other than the patient. A heavy and hard scene, as I see it. 

tainted [04]

» featuring; jinyoung x reader x jaebum - got7, other idol groups and some original characters
» genre; angst x romance - business men x gang x mafia!au

“Miss… you really shouldn’t be–”

“It’s fine! I don’t mind helping out.”

Taking a step onto the wooden stool in front of the bookcase, you reached up as high as you could and began to dust off the top shelves. One of the housekeepers looked up at you with such a worried expression as the other glanced around the parlor, hoping none of the men would walk in and find you doing their job.


“But the young masters told us not to let you–”

“They don’t let me do anything around here.”

“Because it’s not your job.”

You flinched hearing a low, irritated voice fill your ears and two strong hands immediately found your waist, gripping you firmly. You bit the corner of your lip and shut your eyes tight as you were lifted off the stepstool and was placed back down on the plush carpet floor.

Keep reading

Truth or Lie (Part One)

A/N: So, this is my first Rob x Reader series and piece in general, and it’s completely inspired by @totallysupernaturaloneshots‘s amazing pieces (which you should totally check out if you haven’t yet). I have a feeling this is going to be a bit long, so enjoy the ride?

Summary: With the help of a friend’s connections, you are able to acquire a job as Rob Benedict’s personal assistant. As time goes on, your work relationship with Rob starts to turn into something else. Something that you’re forced to keep secret because of the notorious skeleton in the closet, who threatens to destroy what you’ve established with Rob and everything in between.

Pairing: Rob Benedict x Reader

Warnings: Mild language

Word Count: 3788

Originally posted by personal-boogeyman

The lights attached to the ceiling of the interview room were far too bright for your liking. There was a certain exposure you couldn’t shake, a revealing that put you on edge. Your hands rested stiffly in your lap, fingers twined messily together as you fought to keep your composure, to douse your anxiety.

Due to a friend’s connections, you were interviewing for a job as a personal assistant to some actor. What was his name? Rob, something? You couldn’t remember anything you had learned from your extensive research, but if you could just forge through this interview then you would be fine.

“Hello! Thank you for coming in. What’s your name?” A middle-aged woman greeted you with a smile just as bright as the lights, making your shoulders tense an extra degree.

Your name. What was in a name? An identity? Merely a title? Did it really matter? You blinked your eyes against the harsh light, trying to focus on something less intense. You had practiced this so many times, but when it came to showtime you were one to still freeze up once the spotlight hit you. A crooked smile, meant for her not for you, crossed your face, your lips forming a name that may have been your known title, but it definitely wasn’t your identity.

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