he puts pieces of lego in them

Guide to TV Tropes, Part 1: Tropes are Not Bad

Pylon @constablewrites here! You may know me as the one who likes sending people to TV Tropes. The site is a fantastic resource and can really help writers develop their understanding of story–but it can also be intimidating and frankly dangerous. So I’m here to share some wisdom not just about the site, but about the idea of tropes in the first place.

What is a trope?

Let’s start by defining terms here. For our purposes, a trope is a specific storytelling element that is recognizable in multiple works. The concept of having characters, of stories having acts like plays, of multiple plotlines, all those basic, fundamental concepts are technically tropes.

This is a very broad definition, but that’s on purpose. It’s difficult to discuss something that doesn’t have a name, so that’s what tropes are: a way to give names to those concepts and elements we recognize so we can talk about them, and so that we can be clear that we’re talking about the same thing.

But people talk about tropes like they’re a bad thing.

When someone uses “trope” in a pejorative way, they’re usually talking about a trope that is deployed uncritically, without new context. Tropes can very easily become cliches when they get regurgitated wholesale, but that does not make a trope inherently bad, and that doesn’t mean that new life can’t be breathed into tired tropes.

So why is it important to know tropes?

Essentially, it’s hard to break the rules effectively if you don’t know what they are. Media doesn’t exist in a vacuum; your story is in conversation with everything that came before and everything that will come after. You know that guy who tries to hide that he came to class late, until he smugly makes a point that was already thoroughly discussed 20 minutes ago? Don’t be that guy. (Want to know how many people are out there hawking Hunger Games clones who genuinely have no idea that franchise exists? It’s a much higher number than you just thought of, I promise you.)

What about originality? If it’s been done before it’s not original!

Think of tropes like Lego bricks. It’s not about what bits you have, it’s about how you put them together. That’s how you can take most of the same pieces from this:

…and end up with this:

Take a bunch of spy tropes that have been overused to the point of parody and give them to superheroes, and you have something that feels fresh. A stock character that’s usually male might look very different as a female, even if they otherwise fulfill the same role. Throwing film noir and detective tropes into a setting with magic and monsters invented a whole new genre. And so on. You don’t have to reinvent or twist every element to have something new; you can get just as much mileage out of turning a single trope on its head and thoroughly exploring the implications of that.

Ultimately, you can’t mess with audience expectations if you don’t know what they are. That one death in Avengers: Age of Ultron completely shocked me because the movie is screaming at the top of its lungs that it’s gonna kill a different character. (Worth noting is that I saw it with a friend who didn’t pick up on those cues at all, and thus had a completely different reaction. Knowing those expectations can cut both ways.) Tropes represent the shared language of storytelling that your readers have learned, consciously and subconsciously, and are bringing to the table. You need to understand that language if you want to speak to them effectively.

Hopefully now you understand why it might be beneficial to spend some time on TV Tropes. But don’t dive in just yet! Otherwise you’ll emerge blinking into the light a week later, muttering about egregious sliding scales and realizing that no one’s been feeding your cat and you probably don’t have a job anymore. Tune in next time where we’ll discuss how to use the site effectively and avoid the black hole.


Edit by Werew: Here is the next part of this post! Happy Troping!

i wanna talk about that one story from ed where he said that harry got him that giant lego set and they spent all night putting it together like imagining the two of them just sitting around reading the instructions and putting this giant lego together is too adorable my heart can’t take it

6

Made a revamp of every 2016 wave 2 set. I posted the Elemental Beasts a few days ago. 

Now Umarak the Destroyer, Ekimu and Agil joined the group.

Ekimu has some small changes but his overall appearance is the same as his official set. The gearbox had to be removed for him to “unite” with Agil. 

Agil got completely changed into a bigger form that can be put next to the other Elemental creatures. The colors of his small set are still in the same place (silver body, black feet, grey limbs,etc…). And he can now somewhat unite with Ekimu. 

I’m not really satisfied with Umarak the Destroyer but people asked for a revamp version so here you have one. No stickers because I never place them on my pieces. 

anonymous asked:

Dylan's hygiene, god or bad? Do you think he looked after himself, like shaving and brushing his teeth everyday, shower and clean clothes, cleaned his room regularly and stuff. Do you think he put some thought into how he looked, clothes wise and such? I heard somewhere that Eric was kind off a clean freak. And was he healthy with food, I read he ate doughnuts for breakfast, what kind of body type did he have, was he just really really skinny? you cant tell because of the clothes that he wore.

Mm.. I think Dylan’s hygiene was typical of most teenage boys early on a school morning. But, no, I don’t think he had “bad hygiene”.  His hair was grown out long and sometimes matted down and scraggly from having a baseball cap slammed down over it.  And yeah, sometimes he wore the same favorite t-shirt more than once during a school week, and yeah, sure, in spring ‘99, he was experimenting and growing a half-assed mustache and goatee but none of those things indicate that he didn’t shower or smell badly. None of his friends or acquaintances said as such either.  Dylan got up super early in the morning and unlike Eric, he wasn’t a morning person. So given there was time, he’d fall into the shower, brush his teeth (a yes, floss even occasionally), and put on clothes that were clean or reasonably clean, slam his cap down over his dripping wet curls and maybe grab something to eat and be out the door.  If mom didn’t cook him an omelette, french toast or pancakes, he’d head out with friends to King Soopers and grab some donuts and soda pop or head to McD’s or Burger King for a quick breakfast. Dylan wasn’t healthy with food but he liked to eat lots of food and his mother mentioned he was adventurous and experimental with food he chose to try in restaurants. Whereas, Eric was a picky eater.  

Dylan was very lanky, very skinny but I’d say he had a tight abs ( just, we’re not talking a buff muscular look with six pack definition or anything like that)  with a horrible posture, a slouch, trying to make himself not as noticable or invisible. His clothes, especially the long trench coat, helped to give the illusion of bulking up his appearance.  Dylan absolutely put thought in his style of appearance. He liked the look that he had established for himself in high school even if it did not fit in with everyone else - inspite of that fact.  He was individualistic.  He liked the inside joke t-shirts he created, the trench coat and shades he wore and liked to fuck with people by pinning a Hammer & Sickle soviet pin on his combat books.  His look made people in his school wary. He liked that fact. hahaha!

Eric was more tidy and organized and adhered to his parents expectation of keeping the house clean and his bedroom neat.  He held on to a lot of things for sentimental value so it was like organized clutter arranged in a certain places like his concert ticket stubs stapled to the wall. Dylan had a dirty clothes pile which again, is typical teenager stuff. He didn’t bother to make his bed. Making his bed would be yanking the blanket up over his pillows.  He probably had empty Dr Pepper cans littering his room and chip wrappers after a long night session of Dooming.  He had his way of collecting things too; things of sentimental value that brought forth memories. He would put them in hidden places of his room. He was diligent about items that had meaning so when he stored stuff of value to him, like say for example, his old Legos sets, he put them away neatly in the box with all the pieces contained and even the directions neatly folded in it’s proper place.  He organized like a collector of certain things.  His bathroom could get messy though. o.O.  This is my sense of things about their bedrooms, btw.

I had this idea in my Pre-cal class this morning that the Ninja could use Zane as a giant sunbathing mirror. So… I had to draw it. I went from the idea of them lying on pool chairs, but changed it when I realized pool chairs are too wide for Zane to fit over five of them. He isn’t THAT tall. I changed it to a big beach towel, which made it to where I could fit all five of them under Zane. Oh yeah, also here’s a reference for Zane’s robot torso by the way. His pecs would need to come in multiple pieces, so that they can overlap each other and allow Zane to put his arms out in front of him

anonymous asked:

I love how we put poor Denamrk, sweet, happy Denmark, through so much angst in headcannons and AUs, jk, he deserves joy. So here, I have a happy thing: One time, Denmark lost his legos, all of them. They just disappeared. And he asks Norway and he's all like I dunno. And later that day, Norge and Den go somewhere and there is Den's legos, spelling out "I love you, you're my missing piece, Marry me?"

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH

onkey parents au

where jinki and kibum introduce their sons to each other for the first time

“Well, Taeminnie, today you’re gonna meet Mr. Jinki’s boys. I bet you’re real excited, aren’t you?” Kibum smiles at his son as he bounces him on his hip. He’s about to ring the doorbell to Jinki’s house, and he doesn’t know if he’s more nervous for himself or his son. 

Taemin only continues to stare at him, his little hands grasping the front of Kibum’s shirt as he waits for his dad to do something. Kibum laughs quietly at himself, bouncing Taemin once more before saying, “Sometimes I can’t wait for you to be able to talk back to me, Taeminnie. Other days, I’m glad the only word you know how to say is ‘Daddy.’”

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Nikolas & David.

I was so relieved when Nikolas finally went down for his midday nap, allowing me the chance to make an escape to the store. I told David I wouldn’t take too long to arrive back. I only needed to grab a few things and I knew he could handle a sleeping child.

It took me no time to get what I needed at the store and of course, a few things that weren’t on my list. I also made sure to grab fruit snacks for Nikolas as I knew they were his favorite. He’d be happy to see them in my hand when I arrived back home.

Once back home, I grabbed the few bags of purchases from the trunk of my car and headed inside after I unlocked the door. “I’m home,” I called out to no one in particular.

I didn’t see David in his spot on the couch that he was in when I left. I assumed he had ran off to the bathroom or something so I simply shrugged it off and went into the kitchen to put away my things. Once I finished, I was surprised to still see no David so I walked up the stairs to check to see if he had ran up to my room to take a nap.

Instead of making it to my room, I heard familiar voices from down the hallway. I crept quietly to Nik’s room where it seemed David was as well, listening as they spoke to each other.

“What’s your favorite game?” I heard Nikolas question in his small, innocent voice.

“I like playing FIFA. What do you like?” David answered.

“My mom is teaching me how to play monopoly. I think she’s just letting me win on purpose because she knows I can’t count money yet.”

I laughed to myself hearing his answer and knowing that it was true. I always slid extra play money to Nikolas during the game and moved him ahead on the board.

“Well next time we’ll have to be a team and play against her. Show her that you can win without her.”

I peered from around the corner and into the room to see David and Nikolas sitting on the floor, adding LEGO pieces to an already tall tower of variously colored lego blocks. They both looked like they were concentrated on the task and making sure the tower didn’t fall. They didn’t even notice me standing in the doorway.

“What colors should I put on the top?” Nikolas questioned as he looked to David for approval.

“What about blue, red, and white for PSG?” David smiled.

Nik quickly smiled and nodded as if it was the best idea ever. “Okay!” I watched as he grabbed for one block of each color, carefully placing them all on top as David held the bottom.

“Can I come to one of your games one day and cheer for you?” Nikolas asked.

I could tell from the smile on David’s face, the answer was to be a yes.

“Of course. You can come to any game you want,” David beamed.

I couldn’t contain my happiness as I watched the exchange between two of my favorite people. It always made me happy to know that Nikolas enjoyed being around David and genuinely liked him. As well, David had treated him like his own son even though he wasn’t.

I couldn’t stand to watch the cute exchange between the two of them from the door so I stepped inside the room, immediately getting the attention of Nikolas which caused David to turn his head and look to me too.

“I didn’t know you were back. He woke up from his nap so we decided to get a little creative in here,” David spoke up.

“Mama, look what me and David made! Isn’t it cool?” Nikolas yelled enthusiastically.

I took a seat next to the boys and nodded. “It looks great. You did an amazing job building it.”

We did amazing,” Nik corrected me, causing me and David to laugh.

“I’m sorry. Both of you did.” I eyed David and he playfully shrugged his shoulders.

As my son focused back on his blocks, I laid my head against David’s shoulders, prompting him to wrap his right arm around me to pull me closer.

“What did I do to deserve a man like you?” I asked, looking up into his bright brown eyes as he looked down towards me.

“I’m just glad to be here. With the both of you.” He placed a sweet kiss to my forehead and rubbed my side, taking his eyes off of me and back onto Nikolas as he continued adding layers to their creation.

mayimandsheldontbt  asked:

Prompt - Shamy doing something together. Amy giggles and Sheldon looking at her in awe of her. Please & thank you. P.s love your fics

Hello.  Thanks for the request.  It’s Friday, so that means it’s leftover request day.  I should probably work to finish all of these up since they were sent to me months ago, and I’m sorry.  I hope you enjoy!

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anonymous asked:

HELLO! "Just stay with me" for the prompt thing, pls.

“We fucking did it.” Niall leans across the sticky table so he can grab Harry’s face between his hands.

“Did we really?” Harry bats his hands away and sits back in the booth, “You’ve only shouted it in my face thirty times in the last hour, Ni. Not to mention I actually walked across the stage with you, so.”

“College educated sass does not look good on you, Styles.” Niall points at him, “But, honestly dude, we just fucking graduated. Like, can you believe it?”

“Oh, here we go again.”

Niall grins when Harry flips him off and then stands to grab two pitchers of beer from Liam’s hands before setting them on the table. Harry pours himself a glass as Niall starts in on Liam, can you believe we fucking did it man? when Liam slides in the booth next to him

It’s fitting for their last night together to be at the bar where they used to sneak in with fake IDs. He glances around the bar now and it makes something ache in his stomach – the closing of a chapter, one that happens to be one of his favorites.

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nick fury being ‘uncle nick’ to the barton kids. and they know he’s some kind of agent too and after watching lilo and stitch they start calling him bubbles and make him watch the movie with them. nick staying at the barton farm when he’s laying low and the kids being ecstatic that uncle nick is staying with them and sleeping on him when they’re all on the couch walking tv. nick having put together lego pieces in his previous apartment that the kids gave him for christmas one year. nick being taller than clint and thus giving better piggy back rides.

Parents are the worst

Lol, sorry, gym day care employee again! So I always say the parents are the worst part of the job, because a lot of the problems we encounter with the kids come from the parents not teaching the kid what to do and how to act, or from the parents excusing their kid’s behaviour. Every day I meet at least one kid who doesn’t understand why they shouldn’t hit the other kids because they were never taught how to play with others. And then the parents act so fucking entitled they expect us to fucking raise their kids.

  • Numerous parents let their kids bring their own toys (even if we have a strict rule against private toys). We tell them it’s not allowed, they reply with a “No, it’s not a problem, he/she’ll make sure it doesn’t get lost or anything”. Well I don’t care if your kid loses his toy. That little lego thing you got there? Yeah, babies put everything in their mouths and they will choke on that. Well, this one kid, when he is getting picked up he says “Mooom! I lost these two pieces!” The mom looks at me as if expecting me to know where they are and to go look for them. The kid finds one of the pieces, and then the mom says in the most condescending tone “You should probably look for the other piece. I’ll leave my name and address with the people by the front desk” and just leaves. Like, fuck no? 1. It’s your kid, it’s his toy, so it’s you and your kid’s responsibility to look for it, not mine. 2. Do you honestly fucking believe we personally show up at your door to return the little lego wheel that your kid lost, from a toy he wasn’t even allowed to bring with him?

  • A 3 year old kid just quit using diapers. I told him and his 6 year old brother to tell one of us (the employees) if he needed to go to the bathroom so that we could help him. An hour later we have brown spots on our carpet floor and on the backside of his pants. We find his mom, she takes him into our bathroom with a clean pair of pants for him and leaves with both children after he’s changed. 10 minutes later a kid comes out of the bathroom yelling that there’s poop all over the floor.

  • 6 year old kid has an accident while peeing, gets pee all over his pants. We find his parents and they come back to see the kid, and then tells us “Oh no it’s fine, it will dry, he’s okay”. The kid is soaked and on the verge of crying, but they still leave to finish their workout. So the kid ends up sitting on a chair for the whole remaining hour until he’s picked up, and guess who had to wipe off the chair? 

  • Two twin brothers, about age 4, go around hitting and shoving other kids. We tell them to stop, and they stop for about ten minutes before resuming the hitting and shoving. One kid gets get marks all over his back from being scratched by one of the twins. We tell their mom when she gets back to pick them up, but what does she say? “Oh no it’s just the way they are, they’re just boys! I’m sure the other kids are just fine” and I’m honestly not in the mood to argue after consoling at least six other kids who were hurt by the twins. Then, when they leave, I overhear the mom announcing they were going for ice cream afterwards. Like, no, don’t fucking reward your little devil kids for being violent?

  • 3 year old runs around playing, never complains about a single thing. Once her father shows up, she tells him “Daddy, I pooped”, and she is not wearing a diaper. The father then walks over to us and starts scolding us for not helping her go to the bathroom. How the hell are we supposed to know she needed help going to the bathroom? It’s the first time I’ve seen her, I couldn’t have known, and she never said anything. It’s YOUR responsibility as parent to make sure the kid knows to tell someone they need to go to the toilet so that they can get help. We can’t walk around asking all 30 kids who are there every 5 minutes if they have to use the bathroom.

  • When kids come in with their parents, they have to pass sections of the workout area to come to the closed off kids section. Most popular with the kids is the boxing bag. Instead of telling their kids not to play with the workout equipment, the parents let their kids punch the bag and they often get hit in the face with it. Some kids start pulling at the kettlebells, which of course are way too heavy for them and they sometimes roll over and fall on a kid’s foot or something. Of course the kid starts screaming, not only disturbing all the people working out, but also being a pain in the ass to all employees. We remind them kids aren’t allowed to use/play with any equipment and the parents just shrug and say “Nothing I can do about it”. Uh, yeah, there is?? You, as a parent, can fucking tell them to stop? You’re supposed to raise them, not us?
As Equals

Summary: Dean finds himself in a difficult situation after meeting a beautiful woman at a charity auction while posing as one of the guests.

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: Swearing, stereotyping the wealthy…angst

A/n: So, I learned something new in the process of writing this. I now know the difference between a tuxedo and a suit. I feel educated.

Tagging: @nocsa@callmesweetheartifyoumeanit@aprofoundbondwithdean

Eyes of canopy green flitted around a large, conversing crowd, taking in all the guests, men in their expensive looking tuxedos and women in their over the top designer dresses, hoping he didn’t appear to be too out of place among the other guests. His tux was on loan from a friend, as he didn’t own a tux, just suits, and his were never more than a hundred dollars at the most as it was. Yet here, surrounded by California’s elite, he’d never felt more like a pile of rags, even in his top-notch tux.

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Tales Untold

For @lala-kate, an early birthday present: Regina finds Roland reading Henry’s storybook.

Shoes, everywhere. Small hiking boots peeking out from under the couch, sneakers piled by the door. She trips over them every time she turns out a light. Henry has always been tidy, something she knows he didn’t get from Emma, and Robin takes care to put everything away at the end of the night. The hallmark of a man who is used to not having much, and who tends carefully to what he has.

Roland, though, seems to be reveling in all the extra space in the house. He leaves a trail of clothes and toys everywhere he goes. Henry had pulled out his old Legos last night, and Robin stepped on a stray piece of the Millennium Falcon when he went to tuck Roland in. He bellyached for an hour like he’d been run through by one of her black knights. Men, she’d thought with a smile. Then again, the Enchanted Forest never had any torture as sharp and deadly as a stray Lego.

She can hear the noisy soundtrack of a video game coming from the empty room they’d converted into a playroom for the boys and decides to take advantage of the boys’ distraction to tidy up a bit. She tucks Roland’s shoes back into his closet and scoops up an armful of clothes to drop into the hamper. Henry’s room is next; she’s started to feel a bit awkward coming into his room now. Always afraid she’s going to walk in on a hushed phone conversation with Violet, or…she shakes her head. He’s still too young to worry about that, right? She pushes open the door, but stops short in surprise. Roland is curled up on Henry’s bed, his stuffed monkey tucked against his side, flipping through the pages of the storybook.

“Roland?“ she asks. “What are you doing in here? I thought you were playing with Henry.”

“I am playing with Henry,” he says proudly. “He told me to come in here and find Super Mario Brothers.”

Regina fights to hide a smile. She knows full well that Super Mario Brothers is tucked in its case in the game library, but clearly Henry wanted a little bit of time to play alone before he has to hand off the controller to Roland. He’s so good with the little boy, but he’s also growing up so fast. She perches on the edge of the bed, thinking it wouldn’t hurt to give Henry a few more minutes alone. “I don’t think the game is in there, sweetheart,” she says. “What story are you reading?”

She looks down, and her breath catches in her throat. Roland is studying page 23. “That’s you,” he says with a smile, as his pudgy finger taps the page. “But why are you so sad in the picture?”

She opens her mouth to answer, then closes it again. How can she explain her story to Roland? She can barely explain it to herself. More to the point, she doesn’t want to tell Roland that the reason she was sad in the picture was that she was running away from his father, that she regrets not going into the tavern that night, because saying so means that she wishes Robin had never married Marian, that Roland had never been born, that Regina had never cast the curse that brought Henry into her life.

Still, she doesn’t like to lie to children. Not anymore. “I was sad because I had to make a choice that night,” she said. “And I knew then that I made the wrong one.”

“Were you running away?” he asks. She pulls him close and drops a kiss to his forehead.

“Yes,” she says. “I was running away. I wasn’t very brave then.”

“You’re brave now,” he says. For a second, she’s overwhelmed by the faith he has in her, the trust he gives so willingly. “You’re even braver than my papa.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” she says with a laugh. “Your papa’s pretty brave. So are you.”

“Papa says that being brave isn’t about not being scared. It’s about being scared, but doing the right thing anyway.” He does say that. He says it to her every time she starts to doubt herself, every time she wakes up in the middle of the night due to nightmares that she can’t quite remember. For so many years, she let fear and anger guide her decisions, but now that she has Robin by her side, her fears are a little bit quieter. Still there, still bubbling under the surface, but no longer fighting to escape.

Roland gathers up the pages in his small hand and flips ahead in the book. The mother in her wants to stop him, to insist that he try sounding out the words on the page, but she can’t bear the thought of him reading about the Evil Queen and thinking less of her. Roland is the only person that has never seen her as anything but Regina. One day, in the near future she’s sure, someone will tell him all the things she’s done, but she’s not ready to have that discussion tonight.

Just her luck – he’s flipped right to the page with her tied to a stake, arrows flying at her head and chest. He looks at the page, then back at her, and at the page again. “Was the Evil Queen after you?” he asks finally.

He still thinks the Evil Queen is some sort of mythological figure, one that was lost to history and stories told over a campfire. One who doesn’t exist in Storybrooke, not while Robin and Henry and Regina are here to stand guard and protect them all.

“No, sweetie,” she says softly. “It wasn’t the Evil Queen.”

“Who was it?” he asks. He’s so earnest with his questions, always wanting to understand the world around him.

She taps his nose and leans her forehead against his. “I can tell you who it wasn’t,” she answers with a smile. “It wasn’t Super Mario Brothers. What do you say we go back and join Henry?”

That’s enough to get him scooting off the bed, storybook forgotten. “Roland,” she says firmly. He turns around and smiles at her, and he looks so much like his father that she forgets to breathe for a second. Just a second, though, and  her maternal instincts kick back in.

“Shoes,” she says with a pointed look at the small boots that landed haphazardly in the middle of the floor. He grins at her and scoops them up. She follows behind him, shaking her head. In five minutes, he’ll have forgotten all about them again, and she’ll be tucking them into his closet when it’s time for bed.

Stray shoes, she can deal with. The rest will come up soon enough.

pharaoh-ink  asked:

I would love to discuss Lego movie headcanons with you, please feel free to write me anytime! :D

Alright man,

GCBC headcanon I just thought of today:

GC and BC are both one half of a master builder, though they don’t realize it until after the events of the movie. Goodcop has the creativity and all these great ideas, but the things he builds fall apart whereas Badcop has a really good sense of how things fit together and how to make things structurally sound but wouldn’t think to use to to make anything.

Their building process would involve them flipping back and forth really fast and being like

“Tell me what it is you want–nono it’s supposed to be more of an ‘L’ shape–don’t put that there or the arch won’t hol–that should be a different col–I need thi–that piece ther–not if we’re making it lik–rightright with–that–or the–yeah–”

5sos preferences - What You Teach Him

Ashton - how to build a fort.
Ashton huddles under his fort of pillows, yelling as they all collapse on top of him.

“(Y/N), help! My fort has completely collapsed around me! Save meee!” He cries dramatically, waving an arm in the air. You take his hand and haul him to his feet, rolling your eyes.

“Babe, you built the fort wrong. It’s easier if you use blankets and chairs.” You drag over a few chairs and lay a comforter from the couch over them. You drag a bunch of pillows under the comforter and Ashton crawls out to put another blanket over top as an entrance. When he comes back, he lies down next to you, propping his head up on his hand.

“Well this is romantic.” You giggle as Ashton smiles at you. You gently place your hands on his shoulders and press your lips to his.

“Hello, keek! It’s Michael and Luke here! This is our living room…” Luke trails off outside.

“And here we have (Y/N) and Ashton making out inside of a sexy blanket and chair fortress!” Michael jokes. Ashton frowns as you pull away, smirking.

“There’s pillows here too, Mike!” You peek out of the blankets to throw a pillow aimed at Michael’s head. Ashton wraps his arms around you and kisses your neck.

“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll save you.” He murmurs into your skin as Michael throws the pillow back at you two.




Calum - how to draw.
You smile lightly and giggle at Calum as he poses with his fist under his chin, elbow propped up against his knee.

“(Y/N), get my good side.” He complains as you scribble in the sketchbook clutched in your left hand with a soft pencil.

All of your sides are good sides, babe.” You compliment, making him blush. Calum gets up to peek over your shoulder, brushing a few stray hairs away from it. You neatly smudge the silver graphite over Calum’s shirt in the drawing, giving it the texture of cotton.

”(Y/N), can you teach me how to draw?“ Calum asks, lacing his fingers together on top of you shoulder. He pouts as you stare at him in disbelief.

"Pleeeeeease? I’m really curious as to how you draw.” He babbles, batting his lashes at you. You ruffle his dark hair playfully and pull his stool over to yours.

“Well, first I find the most dramatic lighting. It’s easier that way. Then I sketch the shape and smudge it lightly,” You demonstrate by drawing the sketch of a chair that’s got a beautiful, dramatic backlight to it. Calum stares at your lips intently as you ramble on and on about technique, nodding and studying the sketchbook when you demonstrate. He smiles at you, mocha eyes sparkling as he gently flips the page over.

“Can I draw you?” He whispers in your ear, laughing softly into it. You nod, smirking. Calum pulls his stool back a bit to stare at you. He raises the hand holding your pencil and opens his mouth.

No, Calum. You can’t draw me naked.“ He quickly shuts his mouth and smirks, a blush creeping upon his cheeks. He sticks his tongue out in concentration, flickering his gaze between you and the paper he’s drawing on. You blush, giggling against your fist shyly as his eyes rake your body. He rises to his feet and you join him, stopping when you’re centimetres away from his lips.

"You ready to see my masterpiece?” He teases, eyes crinkling with a deep smile. You nod once, studying his dark, glistening eyes.

“‘M ready. Show me the work of art, Hood.” Calum smiles, holding the sketchbook behind his back with two hands.

“You have to kiss me first.” You lean in softly, arms wrapping around his neck as his lips meet yours with a passionate kiss. You get deeper and deeper into the kiss before you remember your mission.

“Not fooling me this time, Cal.” You reach one arm down and snatch your sketchbook back, brushing your hair away from your face. You burst out laughing as you see the scribbled, monstrous stick-person on the corner of the page. Calum sits down on his stool, arms crossed and pouting.

“C’mere, babe.” Calum shakes his head. You place your sketchbook down on the table before walking over to him, cradling his face in your hands as you straddle his lap.

“Don’t worry about your stick-person drawing of me. You’re the only work of art I need.” You mumble, pressing your lips to his. He kisses you back, arms wrapping around your waist.

“Can we bring this beautiful display of art to the bed?” He murmurs against your lips.




Luke - how to build with Legos.
Luke furrows his brows in concentration as he tries to build your cousin’s Lego: Batman castle. You sit down behind him, legs around his, and his lip-ring tugs up into a small smile. You rest your chin on the crook of his shoulder and wrap your arms around his toned stomach.

“D’ya need help, Lucas?” You laugh as he tries for the fourth time to connect the little Lego person to the brick. He frowns and nods.

“I dunno why it’s not working. I keep trying to put Batman on top of this block of grass, and—” You softly take the two little pieces in each of your hands, pressing them together until you hear a click.

“Just press them together till you hear a click.” You murmur, looking over at him. You smirk as you realize he’s already staring. He pecks your lips and you kiss him back once more, cupping his cheek. He slips his tongue into your mouth and turns to fully face you, pushing the Lego castle back with his hand.

“This is way more fun than Lego.” He mumbles against your lips, lying you down on the floor.




Michael -how to dance.
Michael twirls like a drunken ballerina and you laugh hysterically at him, falling to the floor in a laughing fit.

“I don’t know how to do this, (Y/N)!” He says while laughing as he squats with his arms out. You roll on the floor, gasping for air as you giggle.

“I don’t even do ballet.” You pant between laughs. When you recover from your laugh attack, you rise to your feet.

“Then what kind of dancing do you do?” You roll your eyes and stride over to the stereo, turning on a random hip-hop album.

"Does this answer your question?” You retort, hands on your hips.

"Teach me how to dance, woman!” You smile as Move by Little Mix comes on. You keep your hands on your hips and look at Michael expectantly. He does the same and stares at your reflection in the wall mirror. You move your hips skillfully to the beat of the song, waiting until Jade’s solo comes to an end to pop your elbow to the side and then pull it back in with a fist. You spread your feet apart and hop on the balls of them, shaking your head side to side to the sound. Michael suddenly shoves you back into the mirror, pinning you against it. He pecks your lips and you wriggle out of his hold.

“Let me show you what to do.” You say in a calm tone. He nods, eyes sparkling mischievously.

“Hands on your hips,” you instruct, demonstrating. Michael does the same with a serious expression, the ghost of a smirk playing across his lips.

“Just sort of.. Thrust I guess? Try your best to just move your hips to the sound.” You pop your hips out enthusiastically to the music. Michael tries the same but removes his hands from his hips and thrusts goofily. You roll your eyes and grin.

“That was good! Just keep your hands on your hips.” You place his hands firmly on his hips and gesture for him to do it again as you replay the song.

“Then just pop your elbow out. Yeah! Just like that!” You praise as Michael dramatically elbows the air.

“Then pull it back in, but fist up. Like this,” you pull your outstretched arm in, fist up. Michael does the same before jogging over to you.

“What’re you—” He interrupts you with a forceful kiss, arms wrapping strongly around your waist. You kiss him back and moan as his tongue slips into your mouth.

“I think I like it better when you move like that in bed.” He huskily whispers, lust hopelessly blatant in his eyes.

Birthday Wishes

Here’s some more of the AU with little Ryan, where Owen and Amelia have been dating for a few months.

It was a beautiful day in May, the sun was at its peak, there was no sign of rain, and Ryan Shepherd couldn’t wait to finally be four. Being four meant it was his last year of preschool and then he got to go to the big school, he was finally able to ride a bike, he could sleep without pull-ups on, and he could even chew a full piece of gum instead of the half pieces his mom would give him. He had been talking about his party for weeks and finally the day had arrived.

His mom, Owen, Uncle Derek, and Aunt Meredith had spent all morning setting up the back yard for his party while he played inside with his cousins. As he watched them put up the last of the Lego decorations he noticed Owens face didn’t look as happy as it looked before. He watched curiously as Owen checked his phone, said something to his mom, kissed her (they did that a lot), and then headed straight for the house. He quickly starting playing with Zola and Bailey again, not wanting to be caught spying on the grown ups. Ryan perked up when he saw the red headed man enter the house, “Hey Owen, at my pawty can you do the supaherwo thingy and fly me around!”

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