go dig a hole and live in it

this probably sounds stupid and way too sappy but like i am so incredibly proud of josh and tyler??? knowing that they started with almost nothing and have tirelessly worked their way up to the top- to the fucking grammys is so inspiring to me?? it gives me this sense of hope, almost. they’re living proof that you can dig yourself out of even the deepest hole and overcome what seems like the impossible. i don’t really know where i’m going with this, but all i really wanna say is that i’m so happy for tyler and josh. they’ve accomplished so much in such a short amount of time and that, in my opinion, is extremely admirable. 

sveltlanna  asked:

So 'tis been a while that I'm wondering, what can I do to save the bees?

Well, there are many things you can do to save bees, for every skill and dedication level!

Level: You’ve thought about bees once or twice.
Don’t kill bees! This takes almost no effort at all, just don’t swat them when you see them, try and open a window for them if they get in your house or car, don’t spray them with bug killer, in general, just leave them bee. Or, in the rare case where you might get a swarm in your neighborhood, call a local beekeeper to see if they can come and take them away without hurting them.

Level: Hey, you sorta like bees.
If you do any kind of gardening, try not to use insecticides that might harm bees.

Level: You think bees are quite important.
Signing these petitions to stop the use of harmful pesticides on commercial crops will really help bees, there is quite a lot of evidence that pesticides currently being used contribute to the falling bee population. And you could write to local politicians urging them to stop the use of them as well.

Level: You’re pretty sweet on bees!
Buy honey from a local beekeeper. Local beekeepers tend to care more about the health of their bees over profits, not to mention they allow their bees to forage for their own nectar and pollen which not only keeps them healthy and happy, but makes the honey taste ten times better than commercial honey that only feed their bees sugar water. It’s a little more expensive, but if you’re a person who has previously not really liked honey, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if it changes your mind. And if you don’t like honey on its own, it can always be used in place of sugar, for your tea, coffee or your baking!

Level: You bee-lieve in bees.
Make a bee waterer! Bees can need a drink while searching far and wide for nectar, but drinking from a puddle or a stream is dangerous for them, they can easily fall in and drown! So, you can easily make a safe little area for them to drink from, all you need is some kind of bowl or dish, some pebbles or marbles, and water. The pebbles create little islands for the bees to land on while they drink, so there is no danger of them drowning.

Level: You really like bees!
Plant flowers that bees love! This helps them to easily get food, wherever they are. Here is a few lists of the kind of flowers bees like, and some advice on planting them.

Level: You’re a bee doctor!
When you see a grounded bee, a bee that is crawling on the ground because it is too weak to fly, sick, or possibly wet, give it a hand! Find a tupperware box, place the bee inside, you can use a piece of cardboard if you’re not feeling brave, and place it in a warmer area, in the sun, in your shed, or in your house if you’re comfortable with bees. And give it something to eat, you can pick some flowers and put them in the box, or mix up some sugar and water (do not use sweeteners or honey, sweeteners are inedible to them and honey can possibly contain viruses that will not be good for it in its weakened state) and place it near the bee. If it was just weak or wet it may dry off and bee able to fly away, but in some cases they’re too sick to help, but at least you tried!

Level: Heck, you’re a bee estate agent!
Some types of solitary, mason and bumblebees don’t live in hives, but instead make small nests or dig holes in trees, but wouldn’t you like it if you were going to build a house and someone gave you one for free? So why not buy or build a bee house! Here are a few tutorials to make one, and then you can watch the bees that might take up residence. But if you don’t have the time you can easily buy one online.

Level: You might love bees more than I do, if that’s possible!
Become a beekeeper! Yes, you can do it if you feel up to the challenge, I would advise reading up on it before you buy a hive though, here is some reading material to get you started. Not to mention you should be able to buy a Flow Hive soon, which will make it even easier!

Level: You are now fully assimilated into bee culture.
Hey if you like bees that much, why not just become one! Put on your black and yellow striped top, your bee wings and antennae, bug eye glasses, and start learning to communicate through the medium of dance. Hey, if Doctor Bees can do it, so can you!

Level: ?????
Watch Bee Movie.

Just do it.

Right now.

Have You Ever

This was born from this request:  How about a blurb where he says I love you for the first time during sex. And you don’t know if he really means it or it’s just sex talk. And then you have to talk about it after.

I gave it a little twist and it’s finally here! I feel like I just gave birth to this one, tbh. Thanks to my beautiful @permanentcross for putting up with me and for giving me the title. Hope you guys enjoy it! xx

***


Originally posted by overad

“Have you ever gone bare?”

He almost chokes on the wine he was sipping on before swallowing and coughing profusely, eyes watering with the rattling force of the cough. You’re both sitting in his living room, each on a side of the couch as both your feet are tangled as they meet in the middle – his legs are much longer than yours and his socked feet are also bigger, but he looks cozy in his sweater and you feel warm and comfortable.

The wine had probably gone to your head, you’ve never really been good with holding your liquor, but your curiosity stems from much more than the alcohol that runs through your veins – you’re not even that drunk, so you have to admit that the question comes from a place other than a drunken haze.

“Wh- where did tha’ come from?” Harry asks you, deep frown on his forehead as he rubs the back of his hand against his lips to clean the wine stains and settles his glass on his coffee table.

You shrug, cheeks flaming with embarrassment that you’ll later blame on the wine, when he brings up the topic. “Always wondered…”

Keep reading

Girl Meets The Jellyfish Pact
  • This scene is inspired by another episode of friends.
  • Location: Minkus Family Beach House.
  • The gang just arrived at Farkle's family beach house for the weekend. Everyone takes their suitcases to their rooms except Maya who crashes on the couch and falls asleep. Everyone arrives back to the living room.
  • Riley: What's everybody's plan today?
  • Farkle: I'm going to the beach.
  • Zay: Me too.
  • Riley: Can I come?
  • Farkle: Of course.
  • Riley: (looks at Lucas, Smackle, and Maya) How about you guys?
  • Smackle: I'm going to stay here and read.
  • Lucas: I'll just walk around.
  • Riley: Maya?
  • Maya is snoring loudly.
  • Farkle: See you guys later.
  • Everyone leaves.
  • Location: Beach.
  • Riley is laying on a towel. Farkle is sitting in a beach chair while Zay is digging a hole in the sand.
  • Farkle: There's a Zombie Apocalypse, I'm the only man left, would you date me?
  • Riley: If you were the only man left, maybe.
  • Zay: Hey, guys look at my hole.
  • Farkle: Wow, what a waste of time.
  • Riley: Don't listen to him Zay, it's a nice hole.
  • Zay: Thank you Riley.
  • Zay sticks his tongue out at Farkle.
  • Farkle: You know the Tide's just going to fill it up with water.
  • Zay: That's not going to happen. I made sure that we were far enough away from the ocean before I started digging.
  • The tide brings the water to the beach filling up the hole Zay made.
  • Zay: Damn.
  • Riley jumps up.
  • Riley: Ow! Ow! Ow!
  • Zay: Are you in pain?
  • Riley: No, I always say ow for no reason.
  • Farkle: What happened?
  • Riley: I think I got stung by a jellyfish.
  • Farkle: We should get you back to the house.
  • Riley: It hurts too much to walk.
  • Zay: And I'm tired from digging that hole.
  • Farkle: Then what should we do?
  • Zay: I was watching Discovery channel and-
  • Farkle: Wait, you watch the Discovery channel?
  • Zay: It was by accident.
  • Riley: Is there a point to the story? I'm going to pass out from the pain.
  • Zay: The point, before I was rudely interrupted, was you have to pee on the jellyfish sting.
  • Riley: What?
  • Farkle: He's right. The ammonia is supposed to kill the pain.
  • Riley: I'm not peeing on myself. I rather just deal with the pain.
  • Riley starts walking back to the house and stops.
  • Riley: Ow! Ow!
  • Riley turns around to face Farkle and Zay.
  • Riley: Fine. I'll do it. But you can't watch.
  • Farkle holds up a blanket to cover Riley. Riley tries multiple positions so she can pee on the sting.
  • Riley: Um, guys, I can't do it. I can't bend that way.
  • Farkle: What are we going to do?
  • Riley: One of you have to do it.
  • Farkle: Not it.
  • Zay looks at Riley and Farkle.
  • Zay: Aw man.
  • Location: Beach House.
  • Maya, Lucas, and Smackle are playing cards. Riley, Farkle and Zay rushed in.
  • Riley: I'm going to take a shower and stay in there forever.
  • Riley leaves.
  • Maya: What happened?
  • Farkle: (talking fast) Nothing happened. Why would you asked that? Who told you stuff happened? Stop giving me the third degree.
  • Farkle leaves.
  • Maya looks at Zay.
  • Zay: I got nothing.
  • Zay walks away.
  • The next day.
  • Riley, Farkle, and Zay are eating breakfast. They won't look each other in the eyes.
  • Maya, Lucas and Smackle walk in.
  • Maya: This is ridiculous. You guys won't even look at each other. Something happened on that beach and we demand to know what it is now.
  • Farkle: We made a pact to never talk about it.
  • Riley: It stays in the past.
  • Zay: It's buried in the hole I digged.
  • They get up and try to leave but Maya, Lucas, and Smackle blocks the doors.
  • Lucas: No one is leaving until you tell us what happened.
  • Riley looks at Farkle and Zay. They nod.
  • Riley: Fine, we'll tell you.
  • Maya: Start from the beginning.
  • Zay: It started on a stormy Sunday afternoon.
  • Maya: What?
  • Zay: You said start from the beginning. I'm telling you about the day I was born.
  • Maya: I meant about what happened on the beach, you maroon.
  • Zay: Oh.
  • Riley: We were on the beach.
  • Zay: I was digging a hole. It was the biggest hole I ever dug.
  • Farkle: He was so proud of himself.
  • Zay: (smiling) I was.
  • Riley: Then the tide came.
  • Zay: And it destroyed my hole.
  • Riley: And a jellyfish stung me.
  • Farkle: Riley was in too much pain to walk. So Zay remembered something he watched on tv.
  • Zay: I was watching the Discovery channel-
  • Lucas: You were watching the Discovery channel? Were you watching channels by accident again?
  • Zay: Yeah.
  • Smackle: I saw the same show. They said...
  • Smackle pauses and looks at Riley.
  • Smackle: Ewww!!!
  • Maya and Lucas: What?
  • Smackle: She peed on herself.
  • Maya and Lucas: Ewww!!!!
  • Riley: I tried and failed. I couldn't bend that way. So I asked Farkle and Zay to pee on me.
  • Farkle: And I said no.
  • Maya, Lucas, and Smackle looks at Zay.
  • Zay: That's right. I stepped up to the plate. I took one for the team. I peed on Riley. I would peed on everybody.
  • Riley: How did you take one for the team? I was the one being peed on. And you didn't even peed on me.
  • Smackle: You didn't?
  • Zay: (looks down) No, I'm a fraud. It was too much pressure. Performance anxiety.
  • Maya: Then who peed on Riley?
  • Farkle raises his hand.
  • Farkle: I did. I kept aiming everywhere but the foot.
  • Everyone laughs.
  • Riley: It wasn't funny. Starting now, we'll never speak of this again. We're taking this to our grave.
  • Everyone: Agreed.
  • The next day.
  • Location: Topanga's.
  • Farkle: About that Zombie Apocalypse.
  • Riley: Dude, never going to happen. You will always be the idiot that peed on me.
  • Farkle: Fair enough.
  • The end.
dan and phil play the sims 4 #39: a summary

danandphilgamesChildren

impression of the iconic woman from the simpsons

dan has no care for children and i relate

“… not that you’re children” dan says whilst phil is trying to speak

dig yourself into a hole in your own time stop interrupting him you curly haired lumberjack wannabe

i sound mocking but he actually looks bomb i love it

they both do

“don’t talk about the words. the words just come, they mean nothing… like our lives” also just like the rebrand apparently

briefing on the toddler stage

the lack of skills is going to make me cringe

phil watched the video back just to call dan out, what a guy

they feign surprise that we’re so observant

the parp debate

“… and other things i’m not particularly comfortable with you saying”

“he’s just dead in the bed” // “he’s fine”

phil recalls being in daycare and crushing trucks in sand with his friend owen…. okay boy

can’t wait for the abundance of original characters called owen in fics now

dan just remembers a sandpit

what kind of fancy ass daycares did you two go to i didn’t have any of that shit i just remember all the girls except for me used to fight over the doll pram whilst i sat alone in the corner of the room attempting to read and being sad that i was there

both their daycares were inside and they stank because ‘everyone peed’ …. again what kind of daycare did you two go to

“even though we were three hundred miles and a couple of years apart… we had the same experience” // “essentially that sand came from the same place” i’m so done with these two and it’s not even three minutes in

“fill the bath with fruit loops”

the toddler food glitch is so fucking annoying and seeing it in let’s plays only annoys me more

phil thinks the final bedtime story will be about a dragon

“party miami dad with abs”

“hey dan it’s your ripped jeans, you just need to cut them off as shorts” // “oh my god, yes, and when i have abs i will wear a top like that”

please stop talking over each other we’re not even four minutes in yet this is going to be painful

“that’s kind of dragon, come on, give that to me” the latter of this sentence immediately triggered the 'it’s not the first time he’s said those words’ sensor in my brain

phil wants to change the miami dad outfit whereas dan literally screeched his argument to keep it

phil feels pain in his own stomach watching a simulation on a screen do ab crunches

the excitement over transformation of the day is cute what a cute thirty year old man you are

“that reminds me, you should do transformation of the day, come on, i’ve been waiting” very contradictory but sure okay phil

“time to sacrifice one of our children” the youtube comments are going to have a field day with that one aren’t they

“party dil’s whacking out…”

the draw phil naked music :((((

dan the materialistic man resurfaces

the first singing interlude of the video

“is it dab or usain bolt, scientists can’t tell”

“happy famalamies”

“how does one cake” me on a regular basis honestly

they both agree that blue confetti cake sounds 'birthday-ish’

the artistic prodigy aspiration and the cheerful trait were chosen

“dab - a ray of sunshine running through everyone’s lives”

“i’m like who is this thing in the house” phil lester english university degree holder

lame science jokes from dan there

supportive bf phil is back with a vengeance though don’t you worry

the game spawned him with bunny slippers nice

“he’s growing up before our eyes, dan” fanfic writers have fun

“i’m gonna punch. and i’m gonna punch you, phil. because you’re the only one here” // *phil leans away* “don’t punch ME!”

“amphibians need representation”

cue the 'de-toddling’ decor section

“dinosaurs are still valid”

phil was scared of space print bedding he had as a kid

apparently it included the molester moon so i mean that’s a thing he said

and here’s the creepy speaking in sync thing again. add it to the compilation videos

“easy beans”

a creativity table for children gave phil tingles

the debate over whether or not to give him a tablet is really proving who will be the easygoing parent and who will be the disciplinarian (the majority of the fics were right)

“you-you’re gonna not give someone at school access to youtube? how can they make it through life without minecraft youtubers?” he was speaking from personal experience minus those last three words

i see u howell

phil wants him to draw a vehicle so dan chooses shapes

domestics are on the horizon

“yes this is danandphilcrafts, who’s gonna be sacrificed to satan?”

phil take that reference back before i shove it where the sun doesn’t shine

time to age up evan

quick sidenote have you seen how many dabxevan fics there are bc wow there are a ton, not that i’ve read any but they’re out there

“see i went to cheese and you went to trapeziums… what does that mean, psychologically?” that dan needs to get his well-educated stick out of his ass and realise a block of cheese when he sees it

“all this cake is making me so hungry, dan..”

this whole cake talk is so domestic what the fuck is happening you just moved how are you still providing domesticity

they’re going to get deliveroo cake

i’m surprised we didn’t get a tweet about that crazy night

apparently eliza is a milf according to dan even though phil says he isn’t allowed to say it (make of that what you will, demons)

daddy pancakes

they’re literally providing more weird fic prompts pls stop

“tumblr’s gonna go nuts. they have matching trackies” so we now know what tags dan stalks on tumblr

red apparently reflects evan

the science set is reminding phil of fallout yes i relate what a quality game

this video took so long to summarise what the actual fuck but okay it’s over it’s just the buildup to the outro now

“don’t explode the universe with a chemistry set” wise words from phil there

Daniel Howell - i guess these puns have to be daniel themed now

AmazingCake

there is a girl named @wednesdayshambles
and her poetry consistently rambles
and here is the thing
she likes stephen king
So her words go on through the pages of college-ruled three-hole punched notebook paper, and she doesn’t know that the things living in her attic have their very own notebook, where they only write Sarah Sarah Sarah Sarah Sarah over and over and over again with their inky tongue, temporarily forgetting they have their new camera which they could use in new obsessive wonderfully terrible ways; and even their tattoos know that we wish her words were more like Ramsey Campbell’s.

___
her poetry does not. i suppose this ended up more a king dig than anything else. again, if you want me to be horrible to you, message me.

anonymous asked:

How would Guzma react to one of thugs, a new member most likely, accidently talking crap his s/o without them knowing he is dating them?

- ohhhh boy. oh boy oh buddy oh man that grunt is dead
- first, guzma lets that grunt go one. u kno…let them dig a hole for himself. all the grunts around the newbie are like “oh no” as he just goes on and on
- eventually, the thick silence stops the new grunt and he just goes…”why are you all staring at me like that.”
- then. guzma begins to roast.
- guzma goes all out, from flaming the newbie’s hair to how he fuckin talks. does he even have a s/o? if he doesn’t, he gonna roast him about that too. all the other grunts are just watching him get fucking destroyed
- poor newbie probably doesn’t live it down for WEEKS
- guzma doesn’t roast them so hard that they resign, however…that would be counterproductive
- moral of the story: dont shittalk guzma’s s/o

Escape-Jerome Valeska Imagine

Requested: Yes

Warnings: disturbing thoughts, Jerome being Jerome, and angst

A/N: This is a sequel to Back from the Dead so you should probably read that before this one.

Originally posted by wdtfsklaine

 Time seems quite irrelevant now since I lost track of it days ago, or maybe weeks. Besides, every day seemed to be the same since Jerome took me: he returns to the penthouse with more blood stains on his clothes and a wide smile on his face. He calls me one of his many pet names for me before going on about how he made his victims squirm and how he intended on getting his revenge on Bruce Wayne. At first, I would throw up at the mention of blood, especially in the way Jerome described with that awestruck look in his eyes—-one would think he was speaking about a Monet rather than slicing someone to death.

   However, the more he spoke about it, the more used to it I got but I would never respond and I would just listen.

   “Come on, dollface, give me one smile!” Jerome chided.

   His stapled face grinning so intently at me did nothing more to encourage me to obey. On the other hand, I always had this anxiety in my gut that if I didn’t comply, he would do something awful to me. He had come back from the dead and made it a mission to find me after all those years of stalking me and leaving me peculiar gifts. So, I would offer him a tiny smile which seemed to make him so happy that he would clap and jump around. On top of this, Jerome was always trying to get me to kiss him or be affectionate with him since “we were meant to be together” and every time I avoided it, he would snap.

    “I KNOW YOU LOVE ME! STOP HIDING IT!” he screamed, shoving me so that I fell on the hardwood floor.

    It stung my back and I winced before looking up at him. He towered over me like some sort of beast and there was no use in fighting back because death had made him stronger. I tried to crawl away but he grabbed me by the back of my hair and yanked me up so that I was looking at him.

   “Jerome, you’re hurting me,” I whispered.  

   “Now, you know how I’ve felt all these years. Watching you with other men, who knows who you’ve been with since I was away?”

   I wanted to tell him how it was none of his business, but I couldn’t because he would certainly hit me then. Finally, Jerome pushed me away and I wandered over to my room where there was no telephone or any other form of contact so I couldn’t call the police. Surely, the GCPD had known that I was kidnapped by Jerome and they were looking for me. Unfortunately, Jerome made sure that I couldn’t leave by setting up a security code so that I was stuck in the penthouse like a lion in a cage.

    It took awhile before I started imagining things. I would think I saw Rose playing near the suede couch in the living room only to soon realize that it was just part of the white shag carpet. Another time, I was convinced that someone was following me around the apartment and it was my own shadow. Being stuck inside day and night was getting to me and there was no way that I could get out. 

   “Please, Jerome, I want to go outside. It’s boring in here,” I pleaded over dinner.

   Jerome laughed as though I told a joke. “Y/N, if you were to go outside, you would leave me, go to the police, and then I’d have to kill everyone to get you back. Neither of us wants that.”

   “It isn’t healthy for me to stay inside all the time, Jerome. I need fresh air and I need to talk to people who don’t work for you.”

   Jerome’s expression took on a dark aura and I knew that I had touched a spot. “We have a balcony, Y/N, use it. And as far as people go, the only person you need is me.” 

    That was the first night Jerome forced me to sleep with him, and I mean that in the most innocent way possible. For as long as I’d been there, he had let me sleep in a different room because he didn’t mind me warming up to him at my own pace. His patience must have finally worn because he was hugging me from behind with a vice grip that threatened to make my dinner come up.

    After that night, I stopped arguing with Jerome and I tried to get along with him. It was easy since I was convinced that I was beginning to lose my mind myself, but there was no way I was going to tell Jerome that. He would think it was a good thing that I was turning into someone that was more like him when that was the last thing I really wanted. I wanted to go back to Lola’s and walk Rose again. I could only hope that someone was taking care of my poor dog.

      When Jerome would tell me of his crimes, I felt numb and nodded, mostly distracted by the people around him, shadowy figures they were. They seemed to be trying to get my attention a lot but I was trying to focus on Jerome. However, it was extremely hard to ignore them the way that they were yelling at me and waving.

    “Is something wrong, dollface? Did Sam not cook your steak right?” 

    “No, it’s fine, I’m just tired.”

    Jerome relaxed. “Oh, anyway, so I told John to gag the old lady since they are big screamers—-”

    This couldn’t actually be happening to me, I could not possibly be getting schizophrenia. It only got worse and worse as I lost track of time. These figures would tell me how I couldn’t trust Jerome and I needed to get away.

   “But I can’t,” I said, lying down in the bed I shared with Jerome. “I can’t get away from him.”

   “Sure you can,” Liza, the female figure, sat down at the foot of the bed.

   Ben, Wyatt, and Kyla stood near the door with straight expressions on their faces.

  “How? There’s too many locks and codes everywhere. Even poor Sun had to dig a hole in the wall so she could get in.”

   Liza smiled kindly at me. “There is a way out.”

   I sat up. “Where?”

   “The balcony, silly,” Wyatt interrupted.

   My eyes widened. The balcony was only across the way in the living room and Jerome did say that I could go out there for fresh air.

   “But I can’t climb all the way down the building,” I argued.

   “We’ll help you. Besides, this is the best timing; Jerome only left one of his men outside to guard the door. They won’t be able to stop you!” Kyla cheered. 

    Kyla, Wyatt, Liza, and Ben had never let me down before so why would they start now? It was going to feel great to be outside again and feel the wind against my skin. I was going to be able to talk to my friends and family again and wouldn’t just have those four around for company.

   So, I pulled on a pair of flats and followed Kyla, Wyatt, Liza, and Ben outside onto the balcony. It was cool and the sky had an orange haze to it. The sounds of cars and people speaking beckoned me further.

   “But, how will I get down?” I asked, looking over the railing. 

   We were at the top of the building and it looked like a long way down. 

   “You’ll float down just like us,” Ben said, standing up on the railing. “We won’t let you fall, will we guys?”
   “No, never!”

   Kyla and Wyatt climbed on next and I allowed Liza to help push me onto the railing. Ben and Kyla steadied me as Liza climbed up on the other side of Ben.

   “Feels amazing, doesn’t it?” Liza asked.

   “Yeah.” 

   It was amazing to stand on the railing and feel as free as I did in that moment for such a long time. The more I stood there, the less nervous I was; these guys were my friends, they wouldn’t put me in harm’s way.

   “Y/N, I’m baack!” Jerome sang.

   “We have to go now!” Liza said, hopping off first before floating into midair.

   I nodded and watched as Kyla and Wyatt stepped forward to float next to her. Ben grabbed my hand and nodded.

   “Y/N, where are you?” Jerome called.

   “Ready?” Ben asked.

   “Yeah.”

   “Y/N!” Jerome screamed.

   I turned around for a second and saw that Jerome was standing in the doorway to the balcony, his black clothes covered in blood. He looked scared and it made me laugh.

   “I’m free from you, Jerome!” I yelled.

   “Get down from there right now!”

   And I did. Ben and I stepped off the ledge together, but I didn’t float like they did, I just kept falling. But I didn’t panic as I got closer and closer to the ground as my friends flew behind me, screaming my name and grabbing at me to try and stop me. The only reason I didn’t panic was because I had finally escaped from Jerome Valeska and he was never going to bother me again. 

dont hug me im scared 6 full lyrics/commentary

*soft sobbing*

goodnight guys

i miss u

o h

somebody’s s l e e  py

huh?

HUEHEUHUE

BUT THATS SILLY

no!

how cna you be sle e py…. if you dont knwo how to have d r e a m s?

no! i dont want to know! i-ii dont want to know how to have dreams! no… no!

dReAmS aRe ThE mOvIeS thaTT LIVE in yOuR HEAD

(stop!)

E V E R Y N I G H T

when yuo sl e e p in your b eD

AAnd yo U CAN HAVE a dre am AOBUT riDINg a hors;e;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;

(no!)

and YOU can ha ve a DREAM about  D̡̟̗̊̏͌ͪ̑͡Ŗ̣̗̱̠̌ͬ̊̊̃͐̀Ǫ̵̰̜̩̜̙͖̗̫̭̔͒ͮ̅͝W͇̤͖̟̜ͣͧ͗̈ͣ̑͂̇͠͞N̴̨̘̬̮̘̗̘̭̫͗ͧͣ̚͞I̷̩͓̣̖̠͚ͪ̓̏́̑ͫ̏̊ͯ͡͡ͅŃͮ̋ͭ҉̀҉̙̤̯G̵̡̺̥̒̈́ͣͤ̈́͢ ̶̼̝͖͚͕͎͎̌̃ͫ͌ͭͪͩ̃̂͠ͅĮ̴̼̆͗̾̈̒͌̇N̶̥̼̆̅ͯͯ̄ͯ̒͞ ̛͎̜͔̣ͪ͛̉O̭̫̟ͤͥͦ͊̂̓͆́̕I̘͎̯̲̍̔ͥ͆ͬ͂́ͅͅL̷̗̮̗̞͔̘͂͊ͫ

no… no… no more songs!

ah!

eh?

O̹̱̦̣͗͟͢Ḩ̰̳ͥ̓̿̈́

LOOKS LIKLE SOMEBODTYS HAVVING A B A D D R E A M

B͉͙̝̃̈́ͪ̎̋̉ͯ͊A̷̷̜̜̺͉̖̼̥ͩ̿ͪ́̈́D̸̲͕̊̅̽͗ ̲͇̝̗̹̦͓͚̃̄ͪ̆̆D͎̹͓͔̗͚̼̾́͂̀͞Ř̶̪̩̓̉̔͛̕͜Ë͂͛̌͋͠҉͍̰̫͢Ḁ͓̲̳̱̲͖̟ͬͨ̎̒̇͒̒ͦ͛͡M̧̝̹̦̜ͬ͠


scen e 2


can you file these files please

uh.. yeah. sure.

h-hey… wouldnt it be funny if..

one of these files came alive.. and

“i am a file… and you put.. documents in me!”

and, uh…

a do do do.. a file!

do do do…. file.. a do do do.

y’know it did like a son-

no

that sounds really boring


scene 3


and i was like, yeah, thats not even the same bucket

(ha ha ha ha ha)


i am the cool guy i guess.. laid back and sad


(bor ing murmuring)


well thats rude!

no clothes…


(ahem)

whats your favorite idea?

mine is being.. creative!

how do you get the idea?

i just try to think.. creatively!

when you look at this orange

tell me please… what do you see?

its just a boring old orange!

maybe to you, but not to me!

i see a silly face! 

(boo!)

walking along, and smiling at me! 

(boo!)

i dont see what you mean!

cuz youre not thinking, creatively!

(i dont like it!)

(really not good!)

take a look at my hair!

(boo)

i use my hair to express myself!

(its not very good at all!)

i  use my hair to express myself!

(boo!)

(boring boos and jeers)

(go away!)

dont stop now, friend! your voice is music to my face!

huh?

EEEAAAAAH

…and you cA n h ave A D REAM ABOUT eat ing a  T̴̰̅̏ͤ̋̆͂̀ͨ̑Ṟ̞͎̣͎̯ͦͅÊ̵̪̗ͯ̊ͭ͑̾́ͮ̚͜Ã͝͏͚̘̟͎T̡̞̼̰̎ͦ̎̃̄ ͕̠̯̙̼̱̞̃͌̿̓̈ͤ͗͘

and yUOUO CAN have a DREMa aboutt BBBUYING A HAT!

nd you can have a dream about losing your friends.
And you can hav
e a dream about burning your friend-


time is a tool you can put on the wall, or wear it on your wrist.

What?! You?!

the past is far behind us, the future, doesnt exist

time went new, got old, like history. stuff from the past went into a mystery.

You made me die!

look a-

im a computer-y guy. everything made out, of buttons and wires, i'd like to show ya-


⁻ʷʰʸ ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ ʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᶦᵗ ᵃᶫᶫ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᶰᵒ ᶦᵈᵉᵃ⋅

NO!

ᴬᶰᵈ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᶫᵒᵒᵏ, ᵃᶫᶫ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵉᵉ ᶦˢ ʰᵃᵗʳᵉᵈ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵈᵃʳᵏᶰᵉˢˢ, ᵈᵉᵃᵗʰ, ᵃᶰᵈ⁻


AH!

why not try some-

WE ARE IN THE UNIVERSE
PLANETS LIVE INSIDE THE MOON
A ROCKETSHIP CAN GO TO SPACE
A ROCKETSHIP CAN GO TO THE MOON


Sports! Ball! Let’s play sports! Cricket ball! Red card!


I’m a magnet! And I’m friends with metal, I attract it!
And it’s my best friend!


Let’s dig a hole at the bottom of-

make it stop!

Ba-da-ba-doo-boop! I’ll teach you how to buy a canooEEEEEEEEEEEEE

I am a file and you put documents in me

-for go but red is for not go. You can get crushed by a bus-

Let’s learn about gel! I know about gel!

-stinky mouth!

Music is your favorite thing!

*sobbing* i dont like this!

ugh!

*more screaming and sobbing*

*heavy breathing*




i w o n d e r w h a t w i l l h a p p e n






Fanfic:: An Unexpected Valentine’s Day

Summary: “my new romance-obsessed friend asked me who my last date was with and i was too embarrassed to say i’ve never been on a date so i blurted your name and it turns out they know you” perc’ahlia au 

Pairing: Percy/Vex

Word Count: 2049

AO3


Vex was happy for Keyleth, she really was. Honestly, don’t let Vax tell you otherwise. She was really happy Keyleth was happy with Kashaw, but it was getting to be a bit much. She was pretty sure come Valentine’s Day, Keyleth would burst from being happy about love. Already, a week before the day, the café they were in was decorated in red, white, and pink, with enough hearts, streamers, and dollies to make Vex want to puke, but Keyleth was absolutely loving it.

Keyleth took a sip from the tea she’d ordered before placing it back on the saucer and putting her chin in her hands, an eager smile on her face.

“So, when was the last time you went on a date?”

Keep reading

Red vs. Blue starters (Volume 4)
  • What happened to your body, ___?
  • I know my name! You can ask me, if you forget.
  • Hey, is it hot in here? Who wants to help me out of this heavy armor? This breastplate is so itchy.
  • You must have me confused with someone who’s brave.
  • No, don’t duck, that makes you harder to hit.
  • I only eat foods that begin with vowels.
  • I can’t have you not paying attention. You have to be alert! Constant vigilance! Composed, attentive!
  • I don’t know what you’re talking about, I didn’t see a damn thing.
  • You know what? I work better alone.
  • I need you to step up to the plate. You’re my number 2 man now.
  • I’m gonna go over to the chow hall and secure some Oreos. I got a diet to keep up.
  • I wonder, if I killed a ghost, would it come back as a ghost of a ghost?
  • Oh man, I can’t believe this. My life was going exactly as planned. How did it all go so wrong?
  • Shut up, you ruined my life.
  • I think I might need a tetanus shot.
  • Whoa, man, what is that stench? Is a skunk juggling dead hamsters in here?
  • You’re not gonna be able to figure out alien language by experimentation, give it up.
  • I don’t understand. Are- are- are you hungry? Are you cold? Do you need a blanket? ___, do you want some hot dogs in a blanket?
  • Look, no offense, but I don’t believe in you. You’re just a product of my imagination.
  • Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go dig a hole to live in. 
  • My logical data analysis sector indicates that would be highly unlikely. And my bullshit meter agrees.
  • Now hold still. For science.
  • ___, stop screening my calls!
  • This job is the best! I can’t believe you quit!
  • You’re not exactly the most diplomatic of individuals.
  • I feel that I’m gonna regret this, but I feel even more that I just don’t care, and that watching this whole thing unravel might be kinda interesting. Go for it.
  • I know you’re ridin’ high on your new promotion right now, but don’t think you can order me around.
  • We don’t wanna hurt them, I just wanna make them totally jealous for kicking me out.
  • Son of a Ben ‘n’ Jerry, who’s gonna help me eat all this ice cream we found?
  • Sorry to fuck up your quest, dude, but I’m not goin’. 
  • You better hope that I don’t die, 'cause if I do, you’re the one taking care of my kids.
  • I don’t know, I think you’re just telling me what I wanna hear.
  • But you’re a slothful idiot! Treason takes effort! I never expected this from you!
  • What if I have to kill stuff, dude? I’m a lover, not a fighter.
  • I feel obligated to say something encouraging.
  • Come on, hustle up! If you gotta use the bathroom, do it now 'cause I’m not pullin’ over.
  • You don’t make a very good hostage taker. My last prisoner experience was much cooler.
  • I think yelling should be reserved for only the most critical of situations. Like when someone drinks milk out of the carton!
  • You have a hole? Whoa, now that’s cool!
  • Earth does not suck, Earth rules. We invented the telephone.
  • If you don’t like the plants idea, how do ya feel about a fountain in the armory? That place is so gloomy.
  • Dear God, the madness is spreading! It’s only a matter of time before it takes me!
  • So far this quest is a fuckin’ breeze. I’ve already killed a dead monster. What’s next, we gonna open an unlocked door? Rescue a princess from herself?
  • This is some greeting. I come to help you guys and you ambush me.
  • Wait, is this some really weird form of torture?
  • I lost one of my mittens. We have to go back.
  • And that’s how I rescued you and saved the day. The end. Any questions?
  • As you know, I’ve never liked you. Not even a little bit.
  • I have a first place ribbon in doing nothing. It’s the same ribbon as last place. It’s purple.
  • This conversation’s stupid, and I’m hungry. Where’s the food?
  • God damn, man, I would love to live in your world for about ten minutes.
  • You fool! Can’t you see I’m busy with an evil plot?
  • I’m not speaking with you until we punish your insubordination and treason.
  • Okay, this is officially more boring than any of the other times I’ve been to court.
  • Oh my God, that cake is huge! It’s big enough to fit a person in it!
  • I’m just using your body to fulfill my evil plans. When we’re done, I’m going to throw your rotting carcass in to a swamp and let the beasts feed on your entrails.
  • I took four years of high school Spanish. That’s the best way to learn any language.
  • I ate a pencil.
  • Here are your orders: eliminate the enemy. Good luck. Also, try to do better and please win.
  • A sniper rifle is a coward’s weapon. When you kill yer enemy, you wanna look in his eyes so he knows you’re the one who beat him to death!
  • Uh maybe we should, um, have the doctor explain, uh, just how babies are made, y’know, uh, in case someone in the group, uh, may not exactly know how that… happens.
  • I don’t want to live in a world without exploding!
  • See, these tools can be confusing sometimes. That’s why doctors have to go to school for so long. Not that I’m actually a doctor, mind you.
  • You’re not pregnant.
  • Would this be a bad time to mention that my stomach just started hurting really bad?
  • How can you think of soup at a time like this? 
  • We think that it’s your turn to surrender.
some people
spend their entire lives
watching others live.
they never sin,
they never get angry,
they never go crazy,
they never explore,
and they make no mistakes.
they think they’re playing it safe
by digging a hole in the ground
and hiding their seeds in it,
so that when the imaginary unjust master
comes and makes demands,
they can dig them up and say
well, look! i did nothing wrong,
i did nothing wrong at all.
—  BURIED SEEDS (Magic Spells from the Cosmic Dragon)
REMEMBERING LAYNE STALEY, GRUNGE’S MOST HEARTBREAKING AND BRUTALLY HONEST LYRICIST

Throughout his career, Staley wrote and sang about his addictions with an unrelenting honesty, taking listeners deep into the heart of his demons. The grunge era was full of songwriters who wrote dark, confessional lyrics, but no one – not even Kurt Cobain – gave us a more candid, warts-and-all look at his experience than Layne Staley.

Staley’s brutal honesty began with the first song on the first Alice in Chains album, 1990’s Facelift. There’s something truly ghoulish about a man who succumbed to drug addiction at the age of 34 beginning his career with a song called “We Die Young.” Sure enough, the song is just as dark as its title suggests. It’s hard not to get the chills when you hear Staley snarl “take another hit, and bury your brother.”

As dreary as that song, and several others on Facelift were, what Staley did next showed that he was just getting warmed up. Alice in Chains’ second album, Dirt, is one of the most harrowing accounts of addiction ever recorded, and quite possibly the darkest album released in an era full of them.

Dirt is one track after another of unrelenting misery, so devoid of relief that you could make a case “Down in a Hole” is actually one of more upbeat tracks on the album. Staley obviously wasn’t the first musician to write about his personal demons, but few have ever tackled them with such candor. It’s hard to say what the darkest moment here is, but you could make a solid case for the title track, which gives us such lines as “I want you to kill me / and dig me under / I wanna live no more,” and “I want you to scrape me from the walls.” It should go without saying that the “you” in the song represents the hold that crack and heroin had on him. Not only has our narrator become powerless against the drugs, he has accepted that powerlessness, and wants nothing more than to be done in for good.

Even if the title track is the apex of Dirt‘s descent into utter darkness, it’s certainly not the only song on here that might leave listeners with goosebumps. “Junkhead,” through its title alone, is a pretty straightforward account of what Staley was going through. While he had been addicted to crack and heroin at various points in his life, this song makes it clear that just about any high would do. “What’s my drug of choice / well, what have you got?” Staley sings here, naturally choosing the song’s most depressing lyric as its chorus.Somehow, even the songs on Dirt that aren’t about addiction manage to contribute to the theme. For example, “Rooster,” one of the album’s more enduring tracks, was actually written by Jerry Cantrell about his father’s experiences in Vietnam. However, the loneliness and desperation described in the lyrics could just as easily be another tale of an addict struggling to survive. While Dirt was not a concept album, the themes of addiction, and helplessness against it, are so prevalent that even the tracks that tackle other subjects can seemingly be related to what Staley was going through. Whether it’s about being helplessly dependent on drugs, or about trying to survive in ‘Nam, the album continuously gives us stories of people fighting battles they have no chance of winning.The songs on Dirt are so confessional that it often sounds like the journal of a man confronting his last days on Earth. That wouldn’t be the case, however, as Staley would go on to live for nearly another decade after Dirt‘s release. Throughout that time, however, he was never able to let go of his various addictions. In December 2001, four months before his death, Staley gave the last interview of his life, and predicted that his death was drawing near:“I know I’m near death, I did crack and heroin for years. I never wanted to end my life this way.” The combination of Staley’s untimely death, and the all-too-brief career of the original Alice in Chains lineup (they made just three albums with Staley before re-emerging with William DuVall in 2009) means that his recorded output is far shorter than it should be. That said, the impact Staley made with the music he was able to record in his lifetime is truly remarkable. His unabashed honesty gave listeners a vivid idea of what he went through, and by extension, what many other  drug addicts go through. Few songwriters have ever been as capable of sharing their darkest thoughts and struggles in a way that was so readily understandable. Staley was unable to win his fight with addiction, but his legacy lives on in the brilliant music he created in his short time here.
http://uproxx.com/music/2015/08/layne-staley-alice-in-chains-lyrics/2/

Backseat

Request: Some Party Poison smut that ends really fluffy?

I tugged the collar of my jacket up my neck as a cold breeze swept across my face. The dessert was a shitty place to live. Hot as hell during the day and bitter cold at night. Normally, I would be in bed right now, trying to get some rest after a day of patrolling. But, Party dragged me out here, claiming it was a view to die for and I had to see it. Party was my best friend. I deeply loved all of my fellow killjoys, but Party and I just seemed to click in a way that I couldn’t do with anyone else. Ghoul once told me that in these situations, you need a rock-something that can keep you grounded and make you feel at home despite all the shit going on. Party was definitely mine. My feelings for him were way deeper than friendship though. I first realized it when he got shot in the shoulder while on a supply run by himself, trying to barter some medicine for me when I got the flu. My connection to him grew that week when we were both bed ridden, him holding my hair back when I couldn’t hold food down and holding his hand when Jet had to clean out his wound. You could say I was practically head over heels for the red headed killjoy. “Isn’t this view jazzy?” Party look over at me, the moonlight shining onto his face.

“Pretty jazzy,” I agreed, sitting up on the hood of the Trans Am to get a better look at Battery City. “You can practically see the electricity surrounding Battery City from here…” I mumbled in astonishment.

“I know, and here we are building make-shift generators out of Power Pup cans to heat up a cup of coffee. God I would kill to get my hands on one those fancy espressos they got.”

“How do you know they got ‘em?”

“I could smell it on the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W patrol yesterday. Fuck, I miss coffee.”

“Speaking of yesterday, please be more careful.”

“Careful? About what?” He questioned, leaning back on his elbows.

“You charged two dracs with an empty ray gun, Party.”

“What’s wrong with a little melee? I took ‘em both down without a scratch.” My jaw clenched in frustration. Party was a great guy, but god he was an arrogant son of a bitch when it came to his skill.

“You could have been ghousted? Don’t you care? Don’t you want to see another day?”

“Of course I do! B.L.I will only listen to body counts and bullet holes y/n! This is how I we make a difference!”

“By dusting dracs out on the zones? Party, we have an opportunity to actually defeat B.L.I for good and free the zones! We need to stop wasting our lives patrolling borders and go out and make a differen-” He smashed his lips against mine. His chapped lips crushed mine, biting and sucking on them harshly. He quickly pinned me on the hood of the car, nestling in between my waist. I moaned and clawed at his Dead Pegasus jacket, digging my nails in the cool leather. The kiss deepened as he shoved his tongue in my mouth, sucking on my tongue. The kiss was hard and angry, our sexual tension and built up rage boiling over. His hands slipped under my shirt, kneading my breasts with his icy cold fingers. I cold feel his hard on rub against my inner thigh, both of us aching with want.

“Fuck y/n I want you so bad.”

“Party please, do something.”

“You sure? I like it rough baby.”

“So do I.” He smirked and got off of me, opening the back door to the Trans Am, holding it open widely and gesturing for me to get in. “M’ lady,” he beamed, imitating a fancy twenties accent.

“Why thank you sir,” I curtsied, scooting over to the the last seat to give Party room. He closed the door behind him and hit the power button on the radio. Black Dragon Fighting Society blared through the speakers, the gang have had this track on loop for weeks. His hands flew to my shirt, pulling the bright fabric over my head and flinging it somewhere in the front seat. I did the same to him, pulling off his jacket and “Keep Smiling” shirt. I laid back, supporting my head against the door as he hovered over me. His attacked my neck, leaving as many hickeys as possible as he slammed into me. He gave me no time to adjust pounding into me hard, still nipping at my collarbone. I groaned and dug my nails into his toned shoulders. His thrusts were already loosing rhythm. Neither of us could last much longer, with years of sexual frustration, the raw pleasure was already too much for both of us. 

“Fuck baby, i’m so close,” he growled in my ear. I screamed his name when his thumb pressed sharply on my clit, sending me over the edge. He groaned into my ear before slamming into me deeply. He rocked his hips, dragging out our climaxes as long as possible. He looked at me, blazing red hair sticking out from all sides, his bangs beginning to curl upwards like when his hair got wet. He flashed a lopsided grin and kissed me again, slowly and passionately this time. ”That’s the first time I’ve felt alive in years.”

DeanXBlind!Reader

Request:  Hi >_< I was wondering if you could do a one-shot where the reader is blind but a hunter too sorta like daredevil. And dean makes the comment about on how only douches wear glasses inside/dark not knowing she’s blind and she overhears it maybe deanxreader in the end. I love your stories they make me so happy

Request: Can you do one where the reader meets the boys at Bobby’s house? And she’s super badass?

Request: I was hoping you would do one where the reader is sarcastic and funny and meets Sam and Dean. And maybe she surprises them with how well she can fight? With a little romance between her and either of the boys? Thank you!!!!

Keep reading

Encore (M - Jimin)

*Is this good idk*

-Don’t send requests-

Combined Requests:  Can i request jimin x 34? Thx and  20 and jimin pls? Thankss

Word Count: 2,223 words


You were a whisper in the wind. You happen once and never twice. He knew that, you told him how you worked and this is the only moment you were going to spend with him.

It almost killed you, watching up next to him the next morning and the thin sheets covering your naked body. It’s cold in the mornings but his body was warm. His heart was a bright shade of red to you, warm and oh so vulnerable.

You slipped on your jeans, not wanting to glance his gorgeous body. You bit your lip, looking back at him and mentally hitting yourself for doing so.

His silhouette was tantalizing with the white sheets against his blushing cheeks. His pink lips were tempting to kiss, reminding you of the sweet peaches you tasted last night. His hair was in a sex crazed mess but he managed to make it look so damn good.

The mere sight of his body was inviting you back to bed but you knew you couldn’t stay. You turned your heel, leaving behind something that could have been.

“Hey, sunshine. What happened to you?”

“I feel like shit.”

“That’s a first, usually you’re giddy after a night.”

“He was a sweetheart.”

“And Jungkook’s Picasso.”

“Namjoon, just shut up and drive.” You looked out the window, the wind blowing your hair back and he took you back to your little apartment you shared with him and Jungkook.

“You did it again, noona?”

“What do you mean ‘again’, you imprudent child?” You put his head into a headlock and messed up his hair.

“I don’t know how you get all those guys wrapped around your finger, you’re not a lady.”

“Ow, hyung.”

“Don’t talk like that, punk. She does wonders.”

“Hyung, did you..?”

“No. What are you imagining that your ears are red, Kookie?”

“Shut up.”

“I think he has a crush on you.”

“I don’t mess around with kids like him.”

“Harsh.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Don’t you have work today?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I still feel hungover.”

“You need me to drive you?”

“What’s the catch?”

“Don’t you think it’s time to stop your little flings?”

“Namjoon.” Your memories of last night resurfaced, how he pressed his hands against your body, his hands softly tugging at your hair, his eyes eying you like you were the most beautiful thing he’s seen. His sweet lips sucking on your skin, how could you let that kind of feeling go?

“Change and I’ll take you.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, yeah, just don’t get all sappy with me.” You rolled your eyes, skipping off to your room and seeing Kookie laying in your bed.

“Excuse me, what are you doing in here?”

“Your bed is so soft.”

“Thank you, would you kindly go back to yours?”

“Noona~”

“Ah, our little Kookie only acts cute for what he wants.” You pinched his cheek and he slapped your hand away. You kicked him out of your bed, him landing on the floor and you grabbed your uniform.

“You kick like a soccer player. My ass hurts, will you kiss to make it better?”

“In your dreams, kid.” He got out when you began taking off your jacket. He ran out and you changed into your uniform, locking your bedroom door this time.

“Hey, Y/N. Can you do me a favour?”

“Depends.”

“Be my date tonight, my company is having this grand dinner and it’s plus one.”

“Free dinner, why not?”

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“Can we go now?”

“Oh, right.” He drove you to your job, a cute little salon where you were a stylist. You knew today was going to suck especially since a wedding party was booked this morning.

“Oh, she’s here!”

“Okay…”

“The bride refused to let anyone touch her hair except you.”

“This better be worth the cash.” You muttered under your breath and you walked over to her. It was clear, considering she was wearing a hot pink slash that says ‘The Bride’ and you greeted her.

“What would you like today?”

“Just a simple style.” She handed you a picture and you cussed under your breath. You washed her hair, dried it and sectioned off her hair. Glancing at the photo to make sure you mimicked the style and to avoid having a whiny bride on your hands.

“Are you nervous?”

“I’m marrying the love of my life today, I feel like crawling into a hole.”

“With that huge smile on your face?”

“He would probably dig me out if I did. He’s the light at the end of the tunnel and I wouldn’t know how to live without him.”

“He sounds like your knight in shining armour.”

“I guess he is. But a girl like you probably has a man worshipping the ground you walk.”

“No, no.”

“Really, you’re gorgeous.”

“Thank you.”

“I hope you find a man that loves you a lot.”

“Thank you. I can tell your husband is going to tear up seeing you walking down the aisle.”

“This is perfect, thank you.”

“Good luck.” She left with her party and you looked at your co worker.

“Was she fussy?”

“She’s actually sweet, you know once you get past the fact she won’t let anyone touch her hair but me.”

“She wants what she wants.”

“Any more appointments?”

“Just some more customers dropping in.”

“You ready?”

“Do we have a choice?”

“It’s a courtesy.” You smiled at him, him pretending to faint before the customers piled in. It felt like the seat was never empty and you felt like you were going to collapse from all the dye jobs you did today.

“Why does everyone want to be a blonde or a red head?”

“Because they still look pretty natural.”

“That last girl wanted to look like a strawberry with her bright red hair.”

“Hey, be nice. Would you like to be reminded of your blue hair phrase?”

“I was young and stupid.”

“One thing’s changed. You got older.” You hit him with a towel while he laughed and you told him to lock up. Namjoon’s car was outside waiting for you and you stopped in your tracks.

“Just get in.”

“Ooh, you look good in a suit.”

“I’m not going to be next, Y/N.”

“Are you sure?”

“Cool it, mistress. I can’t take you home so you’re going to have to change in the back.”

“Namjoon.”

“I’m sorry, we’re going to be late okay?”

“Damnit.” You moved to the backseat, grabbing the dress he picked out for you.

“Blue. Of all the fucking colours, you pick blue.”

“Just wear it.”

“Don’t peek.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” You slipped your jeans and top, pulling the dress over your head and strapping in the heels he brought for you.

“Are you done?”

“Yeah.” He parked and helped you out the car. You locked arms with him, entering the hall and you were surprised.

“These are the crappy dinners your company has.”

“It’s not the location, it’s-”

“Hyung!”

“Him.”

“Hyung, and oh who’s this? You’re really pretty, blue looks good on you.”

“Thank you. I’m Y/N, Namjoon’s friend.”

“How did you find her?”

“Best friends since 4th grade.”

“Wow.”

“I’m going to mingle around, Tae, with Y/N.” He pulled you along and he let out a relieved sigh when Tae was out of earshot.

“I liked him, he seems so playful.”

“Cute kid, too much energy.”

“Really?”

“Don’t get any ideas.”

“Namjoon, I’m not scoping out your co-workers. Yeah, there are some eye candy but I’m not after them.”

“You never change.”

“You love me and you know it.” You looked around before you caught the eye of him. You had no idea that he worked with Namjoon, let it alone show up to this dinner.

“Y/N. Earth to Y/N.”

“Yeah..”

“You look like you just saw a ghost, what’s up?”

“The guy I left this morning is in this very room. And we made eye contact.”

“You ducked and fucked one of my co-workers?”

“Could you be any fucking louder, Namjoon?”

“So, what are you going to do?”

“You’re not going to help me.”

“You said you felt like shit about it, maybe you can get some closure.”

“Are you giving me the go ahead?”

“I’m not confirming a thing.”

“You know what’s a good way to get lost in the crowd, slow dancing. Let’s go.”

“You know I can’t dance, Y/N.”

“Just follow my lead, twinkle toes.” You danced with him, fortunately not getting your toes stepped on before someone tapped Namjoon’s shoulder.

“Mind if I cut in?”

“I don’t.” You met his chocolate eyes, knowing he wasn’t going to let you off easily and he took Namjoon’s place. Your eyes pleaded with Namjoon but when he started flirting with a girl, you knew you were a goner.

“Nowhere to run now, sweetheart?”

“You were chasing me?”

“You’re worth more than just a casual fuck, my dear.”

“To you. How do you know it was the same to me?”

“I’ll make sure there’s nothing can take you away from me.” He whispered in your ear before softly kissing your lobe.

“Was that good?”

“The best.”

“You can’t have it twice. You know that.”

“I can tell you don’t want it to end here either.”

“How could you be so sure?”

“I’ll show you, baby.” He pulled you away from the dance floor and into his car. You loved the way his hand brushed against your thigh, squeezing your skin lightly before he ventured between your legs.

You followed him in the elevator, his lips desperate to touch yours and he took the chance. You didn’t stop yourself, letting his wild passion feed into you and stumbling your way into his bed.

“You’re so wet, baby. You wanted me, didn’t you?”

“I had eye candy, don’t get so fucking cocky.”

“Let’s get this clear: I’ll make you mine.” You gasped when his lips were on your neck and his glorious hands roaming all over your body. He squeezed your breast through your dress, the blue fabric clinging to your body. He pulled it up, revealing your black underwear and pinching your nipples.

“J-Jimin.”

“I’ve barely touched you…” He smirked at you before he slipped off your bra, his lips sucked on your nipple while the other was being played with by his fingers. You bit your lip, wanting to avoid another cocky remark and he repeated the process to the other nipple.

You craved that touch since you left it this morning, you missed the way his hand held your neck while he kissed you feverishly. The way he squeezed your ass while he ate you out. The soft strands of hair you tugged at while he made you moan his name.

He went unbearably slow, his hot tongue slowly licking down your chest to the band of your panties. He slipped your panties down with his teeth and gazed upon your wet pussy. You were silently begging that he would touch you but he only breathed against it. You shuddered and his hands held your thighs while his lips planted more hickies there, the ones he left last night weren’t enough. He roamed back and stroked his fingers slowly, watching your expression carefully.

“You like that, baby?” He was teasing you; even though you deserved it, you wanted him to touch you. You wanted to feel his fingers stretching you out with every pump, curling up inside you and pushing against your g-spot.

“Please, your fingers.”

“Please what?”

“Please, Jimin please push your fingers inside me.” He plunged them into you, your head rolling back when he began pumping them into you quickly. The bed rocked with the power of his fingers into you and you whined his name loudly.

“Fuck, Jimin..” How could you forget his name? He made you scream it the night before.

“You’re so beautiful, baby.”

“Mmhm.” He pulled his fingers out, properly stripping you off your clothes and undressing himself. You lied down him in a 69 position, becoming face to face with his semi-hard cock. He slapped your ass, a warning for you to begin sucking and you obliged. You focused on making him hard, teasing his tip before taking him fully. You bobbed your head while you felt his tongue press you and his fingers slamming into you.

“Fuck.”

“You’re so fucking tight.”

“J-Jimin.” You whimpered before taking him back into your mouth, not selfishly wanting to receive pleasure and he groaned your name. He stopped before you could reach your high and repositioned himself. You spread your legs and he slowly pushed into you.

“H-Holy shit.”

“Fuck, baby.” He worked his hips, thrusting into you and scanning your sweaty body. He looked at the way your mouth shaped his name, the simple syllables sound melodic every time you whimpered it.

You shamelessly moaned aloud, unable to contain yourself and he liked how loud you were. How easy it was to make you a mess under him. How pretty you look with your hair sprawled out and your nails digging into his back.

How could he ever give you up?

“Fuck.”

“J-Jimin..” You whimpered as you both ride to your high. He released his seed in a condom, tossing it out and looking at you still lying down on your back.

“There’s no running this time, sweetheart.”

~Admin Blake

Leave It To Me

Pairing: Taehyung X Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1,622

Request: Can I request a Taehyung BTS scenario where he’s being clingy because you’re injured? Thank you. -anonymous

A/N: First off, I wanted to apologize that you had to wait a long time though I did not intend for this to happen. Still, I hope that you are able to enjoy the story! Thank you <3


You looked over at Taehyung’s downcast expression as he drove. The slight pulling down of his lip corners gave him away, and your heart felt touch at how he cared so much about you. Ever since the doctor delivered the news about your condition at the clinic, your boyfriend acted as if he was the one injured instead of you. “Don’t worry, Taehyung,” you told him when he reached a red light. “It’s not a major injury. I’ll be fine.”

“It’s not fine!” Taehyung retorted, snapping his head to look at you. He took one hand from the steering wheel and held your left hand. “Honey, you have a short arm cast on your right hand! The doctor said your wrist is fractured, and that you’ll have to keep the case on for about four weeks!”

He kissed your left hand and mumbled against it. “I can’t believe my honey’s beautiful hand is injured now because she’s so clumsy.”

“You’re overreacting, silly,” you replied with a laugh. “I promise I’ll be more careful from now on. Would that make you feel better?”

“Obviously,” Taehyung chuckled, “but until you’re completely healed, I will be by your side, taking care of you.”

Once the lights turned green again, Taehyung let go of your hand and returned it to the steering wheel. Stepping onto the gas pedal, you both were on your way home.

When you two arrived home, you entered the house and found all six of Taehyung’s friends in the same position as they were when Taehyung quickly rushed you to the hospital. “Don’t tell me you guys are still watching ‘American Horror Story,’” you said, rolling your eyes, walking into the living room.

Jimin was the first one to turn around and notice the cast on your arm. “You guys are back! Oh my gosh, (Y/N). You have a cast! Are you okay?”

The rest of them turned around once they heard the word ‘cast’ and asked you about it at the same time.

“I’m okay,” you promised, trying to calm them down by moving your arm just a little. “It’s just going to be on for a while.”

“But it’s your dominant hand, (Y/N),” Namjoon mentioned. “How are you going to eat? Or work? Basically, how are you going to do anything?”

“Can I write on your cast?!” Jungkook cut in, grinning.

Before you could answer to either of them, Taehyung interrupted and answered for you instead. “Well, Namjoon, that’s why I’m going to be taking care of my girlfriend. You don’t need to worry about that at all. That’s what I’m here for. Also, Jungkook, no. You cannot write on her cast. What if you injure her hand even more by pressing down hard with a marker?”

“I’m not!” Jungkook exclaimed. “I wouldn’t do that to her.”

You turned to Taehyung.

“It’s fine, Tae. He’s not going to make it worse. Besides, you already wrote on my cast, so there shouldn’t be a problem if they do it, either.”

You showed him the words he wrote on your cast as soon as the doctor put it on you. It read, This is my love’s hand! No one else’s. I will be the one to help this hand recover. Get well soon (Y/N) <3

“Wow, Taehyung.” Jungkook scoffed. “How is it okay for you to do it and not the rest of us? We’re trying to wish (Y/N) well, too.”

“Just leave him alone, Jungkook,” Hoseok mumbled, eyes focused on the TV. “You know how he is. Remember the last time (Y/N) sprained her ankle, and he literally hissed at us when we tried to help? He didn’t want any of us touching her.”

Jungkook sighed. You gave him a sympathetic look as you understood he just wanted to help cheer you up. “Hope that hand heals quickly, (Y/N),” Jungkook muttered as he turned back to his seat.

“Thank you, Jungkook,” you answered with a smile. “Even if your wishes aren’t on my cast, they’re still well-received.”

“What is it with that kid?” Taehyung murmured, shaking his head. “I just wanted to make sure you won’t slow down the healing of your hand. It’s going to be so uncomfortable if it gets hurt even more.”

“I know, and I appreciate you for that. I’m going to go change and then cook for everyone. Since my hand is like this, would you like to help me cook?”

“Of course,” Taehyung said, smiling. Then his smile changed into a smug one. “Do you need me to help you change, too?”

You burst into laughter and shoved his chest with your uninjured hand. “No, I think I’ll be fine with that, Kim Taehyung.”

“Just saying,” your boyfriend responded, holding both hands up in the air, sending you a flirty wink.

Once you changed into more comfortable clothes, you stepped back into the living room where everyone sat. “Is everyone okay with my plans for dinner? I was thinking rice with some side dishes that my mom sent. I think there’s still seasoned soybean sprouts, spicy cucumber salad, braised potatoes and fermented kimchi.”

“Oh!” Seokjin jumped up. “I also looked into your fridge, and you have some ingredients to make pork sausage stew. I think that’ll be good.”

You nodded your head in agreement. “Oh my gosh. I was actually craving that. Can you please help me with that Seokjin?”

“Do you have meat, (Y/N)?” Yoongi asked. “I really want to eat meat…”

“Not since the last time since we had the barbecue party,” you commented. “Sorry. Maybe if someone can run to the supermarket, then we can have some. What did you want us to make?”

“Beef short ribs.” Yoongi sat up from the couch and gave a nudge to Jungkook who was sitting on the floor in front of the couch. The younger male turned around. Yoongi handed him some cash. “Can you and Jimin head to the supermarket and buy things that (Y/N) needs to make beef short ribs?”

“Why should we go? I’m watching the show,” Jungkook said.

“Because you both are the youngest. I know Taehyung’s not going to want to go at all.”

“Well, you’re the one who wants to eat it, so you should go.”

“Ok, so if I come back, you’re not going to eat any later, right?”

Jungkook sighed and shoved the money inside of his pocket. Standing up at the same time as Jimin, the both of them headed for the door. “We’ll be right back,” Jimin announced before the door closed behind them.

“Alright, so while they’re out, I’ll cook the rice and get the side dishes. Seokjin can make the stew. Hmmm,” you said. “Can the rest of you get the bowls and chopsticks to set up the table?”

The other hummed a ‘yes’ in response, and you hurried into the kitchen. Seokjin and Taehyung followed behind you.

“I can make the stew instead of Seokjin,” Taehyung offered. “He doesn’t have to be in the kitchen.”

“He’s great at cooking though,” you told your boyfriend, brow raised.

“Yeah, but cooking’s like an intimate activity that couples do together. It should just be the both of us in the kitchen. What if Seokjin isn’t careful, and he ends up like accidentally cutting you or getting boiling water onto your hand?”

Seokjin chuckled, a bit offended. “Hey, that’s more of what you would do, Kim Taehyung. Besides, (Y/N) has other things she needs help with. Stop being all clingy and jealous.”

“He’s right,” you said to Taehyung with a soft smile. “We can eat faster if he helps. You can stand right next to me and help me whatever I’m doing. Or…would you rather I try to cook alone while you do Seokjin’s job?”

Taehyung quickly shook his head, eyes wide. “What do you need me to do?”

Soon, the rice finished cooking, the stew was done and even the meat that Jungkook and Jimin brought home was done grilling. Everyone sat around the low table in the living room. “Thank you for the meal!” They all started to dig in.

Namjoon dipped his spoon into the stew and took a sip. His eyes brightened. “Man, this is really good! Try it, (Y/N).” He dipped his spoon again and started to bring it towards your lips.

You opened your mouth and tasted Seokjin’s pork sausage stew. “Oh, wow! This is so good,” you praised.

“Taehyung, you’re going to burn holes through Namjoon’s head,” Hoseok mumbled before he looked back at the table and picked up some side dishes.

When you looked over at Taehyung, he was glowering at Namjoon until he met your eyes and smiled, picking up your spoon and scooping up some rice. “Since you can’t use your hand to eat, I’ll feed you,” he sang.

And he did. Through dinner, Taehyung helped you eat as you told him what you wanted. Even after dinner, he volunteered to clean the dishes for you, and all you did was stand and watch him. “You’re the best,” you complimented him as soon as he dried the last dish and placed it on the rack.

“Shouldn’t the best deserve some kind of award?” he asked, facing you with a mischievous smile. “Don’t you stress about anything and just worry about getting that fractured wrist all healthy again.”

You leaned in and pressed your lips against him. Taehyung smiled against your lips and kissed you again, sweetly, before pulling away.

“And be more careful,” Taehyung scolded. “How are you going to help me take my clothes off with when you’re injured?”

“What are you talking about?!” you yelled in shock. “You’re insane!”

You punched his arm and hurried out of the kitchen, leaving a laughing Taehyung to follow you.

Patton’s Speech to the Third Army, June 5th, 1944

Gentlemen, be seated,

Men, all this stuff you hear about America not wanting to fight, wanting to stay out of the war, is a lot of bullshit. Americans love to fight. All real Americans love the sting and clash of battle. When you were kids, you all admired the champion marble shooter, the fastest runner, the big-league ball players and the toughest boxers. Americans love a winner and will not tolerate a loser. Americans play to win all the time. That’s why Americans have never lost and will never lose a war. The very thought of losing is hateful to Americans. Battle is the most significant competition in which a man can indulge. It brings out all that is best and it removes all that is base.

You are not all going to die. Only two percent of you right here today would be killed in a major battle. Every man is scared in his first action. If he says he’s not, he’s a goddamn liar. But the real hero is the man who fights even though he’s scared. Some men will get over their fright in a minute under fire, some take an hour, and for some it takes days. But the real man never lets his fear of death overpower his honor, his sense of duty to his country, and his innate manhood.

All through your army career you men have bitched about what you call ‘this chicken-shit drilling.’ That is all for a purpose—to ensure instant obedience to orders and to create constant alertness. This must be bred into every soldier. I don’t give a fuck for a man who is not always on his toes. But the drilling has made veterans of all you men. You are ready! A man has to be alert all the time if he expects to keep on breathing. If not, some German son-of-a-bitch will sneak up behind him and beat him to death with a sock full of shit. There are four hundred neatly marked graves in Sicily, all because one man went to sleep on the job—but they are German graves, because we caught the bastard asleep before his officer did.

An army is a team. It lives, eats, sleeps, and fights as a team. This individual hero stuff is bullshit. The bilious bastards who write that stuff for the Saturday Evening Post don’t know any more about real battle than they do about fucking. And we have the best team—we have the finest food and equipment, the best spirit and the best men in the world. Why, by God, I actually pity these poor bastards we’re going up against.

All the real heroes are not storybook combat fighters. Every single man in the army plays a vital role. So don’t ever let up. Don’t ever think that your job is unimportant. What if every truck driver decided that he didn’t like the whine of the shells and turned yellow and jumped headlong into a ditch? That cowardly bastard could say to himself, 'Hell, they won’t miss me, just one man in thousands.’ What if every man said that? Where in the hell would we be then? No, thank God, Americans don’t say that. Every man does his job. Every man is important. The ordnance men are needed to supply the guns, the quartermaster is needed to bring up the food and clothes for us because where we are going there isn’t a hell of a lot to steal. Every last damn man in the mess hall, even the one who boils the water to keep us from getting the GI shits, has a job to do.

Each man must think not only of himself, but think of his buddy fighting alongside him. We don’t want yellow cowards in the army. They should be killed off like flies. If not, they will go back home after the war, goddamn cowards, and breed more cowards. The brave men will breed more brave men. Kill off the goddamn cowards and we’ll have a nation of brave men.

One of the bravest men I saw in the African campaign was on a telegraph pole in the midst of furious fire while we were moving toward Tunis. I stopped and asked him what the hell he was doing up there. He answered, 'Fixing the wire, sir.’ 'Isn’t it a little unhealthy up there right now?’ I asked. 'Yes sir, but this goddamn wire has got to be fixed.’ I asked, 'Don’t those planes strafing the road bother you?’ And he answered, 'No sir, but you sure as hell do.’ Now, there was a real soldier. A real man. A man who devoted all he had to his duty, no matter how great the odds, no matter how seemingly insignificant his duty appeared at the time.

And you should have seen the trucks on the road to Gabès. Those drivers were magnificent. All day and all night they crawled along those son-of-a-bitch roads, never stopping, never deviating from their course with shells bursting all around them. Many of the men drove over 40 consecutive hours. We got through on good old American guts. These were not combat men. But they were soldiers with a job to do. They were part of a team. Without them the fight would have been lost.

Sure, we all want to go home. We want to get this war over with. But you can’t win a war lying down. The quickest way to get it over with is to get the bastards who started it. We want to get the hell over there and clean the goddamn thing up, and then get at those purple-pissing Japs. The quicker they are whipped, the quicker we go home. The shortest way home is through Berlin and Tokyo. So keep moving. And when we get to Berlin, I am personally going to shoot that paper-hanging son-of-a-bitch Hitler.

When a man is lying in a shell hole, if he just stays there all day, a Boche will get him eventually. The hell with that. My men don’t dig foxholes. Foxholes only slow up an offensive. Keep moving. We’ll win this war, but we’ll win it only by fighting and showing the Germans that we’ve got more guts than they have or ever will have. We’re not just going to shoot the bastards, we’re going to rip out their living goddamned guts and use them to grease the treads of our tanks. We’re going to murder those lousy Hun cocksuckers by the bushel-fucking-basket.

Some of you men are wondering whether or not you’ll chicken out under fire. Don’t worry about it. I can assure you that you’ll all do your duty. War is a bloody business, a killing business. The Nazis are the enemy. Wade into them, spill their blood or they will spill yours. Shoot them in the guts. Rip open their belly. When shells are hitting all around you and you wipe the dirt from your face and you realize that it’s not dirt, it’s the blood and gut of what was once your best friend, you’ll know what to do.

I don’t want any messages saying 'I’m holding my position.’ We’re not holding a goddamned thing. We’re advancing constantly and we’re not interested in holding anything except the enemy’s balls. We’re going to hold him by his balls and we’re going to kick him in the ass; twist his balls and kick the living shit out of him all the time. Our plan of operation is to advance and keep on advancing. We’re going to go through the enemy like shit through a tinhorn.

There will be some complaints that we’re pushing our people too hard. I don’t give a damn about such complaints. I believe that an ounce of sweat will save a gallon of blood. The harder we push, the more Germans we kill. The more Germans we kill, the fewer of our men will be killed. Pushing harder means fewer casualties. I want you all to remember that. My men don’t surrender. I don’t want to hear of any soldier under my command being captured unless he is hit. Even if you are hit, you can still fight. That’s not just bullshit either. I want men like the lieutenant in Libya who, with a Luger against his chest, swept aside the gun with his hand, jerked his helmet off with the other and busted the hell out of the Boche with the helmet. Then he picked up the gun and he killed another German. All this time the man had a bullet through his lung. That’s a man for you!

Don’t forget, you don’t know I’m here at all. No word of that fact is to be mentioned in any letters. The world is not supposed to know what the hell they did with me. I’m not supposed to be commanding this army. I’m not even supposed to be in England. Let the first bastards to find out be the goddamned Germans. Some day, I want them to rise up on their piss-soaked hind legs and howl 'Ach! It’s the goddamned Third Army and that son-of-a-bitch Patton again!’

Then there’s one thing you men will be able to say when this war is over and you get back home. Thirty years from now when you’re sitting by your fireside with your grandson on your knee and he asks, 'What did you do in the great World War Two?’ You won’t have to cough and say, 'Well, your granddaddy shoveled shit in Louisiana.’ No sir, you can look him straight in the eye and say 'Son, your granddaddy rode with the great Third Army and a son-of-a-goddamned-bitch named George Patton!’

All right, you sons of bitches. You know how I feel. I’ll be proud to lead you wonderful guys in battle anytime, anywhere. That’s all.

Dog Sitter (Frank CastlexReader) Pt. 4

A/N: This part was originally supposed to go a different way, but a secondary plot point came to mind as I was writing, so now this story is going to be even longer. But I guess that’s good for you guys. This is the last part before I go back to school, so I can’t promise that the updates will be regular any more. it’s getting close to the end of the year and I’m going to have a lot to do. 

Warning: Mentions of violence

It takes ten minutes for you to dig out your old workout clothes. This probably should have given you hint  for how the rest of the day was going to go, but you just told yourself that you had been too busy to properly unpack them up.  

You knocked on Frank’s door. Within seconds he had opened the door with Fido’s leash in his hand. He hands you the leash along with a bag of dog treats.

“He’s a spoiled ass hole so if he starts misbehaving just give him a treat or two.” You tuck the bag of treats into one of your pockets.

“Wow Fido. You’re living the life and now you get to drag me through the park.” You rub the dog’s head vigorously and he sniffs at your pockets. “I’ll probably be back in an hour at the most.”

“I’ll be here.”

Keep reading

lilac-shadxws  asked:

5, 6, 24, 56, 72 :D

5: Am I afraid of falling in love? I’m not really sure. I have a lot of friends I love in the sense that I really care about them and kinda wish I could be with romantically, but on the flipside given the opportunity I’m kinda scared about saying ‘this is it, I want to spend the rest of my life with you and you alone’ to anyone. That could be just because I’d feel like I was putting all my other friends second, though.

6. Do I like the beach? Yeah, it’s kinda nice. Messing around in the sand and going for walks along the shore is fun.

24: Is there a certain quote I live by? Maybe ‘When you’re in a hole, stop digging.’ (Denis Healey)

56: What do I usually do first in the morning? Usually I check my notifications on my phone, then do a few sit-ups.

72: What is your ringtone? The default Samsung one, I don’t usually bother with special ringtones XD

Thanks for asking Nic! :3