he's gone so far

anonymous asked:

So this guy I dated years ago has started talking to me on fb recently. I am currently in a great relationship, and he is well aware of this (my Bf knows that he has been talking to me too), but he continuously asks me out to parties and to get high with him. My answer is always no (politely) but he's gone so far as to ask about my current sex life and it's getting to the point where i feel uncomfortable about it. I really don't like being rude. But is there a polite way to tell him to fuck off?

Nope. Not at this point. You’ve been polite and he’s not getting the message. 

Now it’s entirely appropriate to either block him so he can’t keep messaging you at all or to let it fly and just tell him what’s up. He’s being a creep, he’s being invasive and rude and you want him to fuck right off. 

The block button is there for a reason though and if getting confrontational doesn’t feel right for you, feel free to just block his ass so he can’t keep bugging you. 

You don’t owe anyone politeness but especially not when they’re being a creep. 


i would like to take it upon myself to remind everyone that all of the music in inside llewyn davis is performed live

oscar honestly sounds like that

Girl Crush || D+E

Ever since her run in with Katherine a few days prior, Elena had been on edge. Everyone around her knew it, but they hadn’t been able to pinpoint exactly why. She had just been getting herself a coffee at the shop when she ran into her. The blonde had managed to get under her skin too. News was spreading about Damon and Elena and Katherine was jealous. She wanted Damon back, but only because she enjoyed playing games. Ruining things is what she did best. She’d even gone to the extent of sending Elena some pictures of the two together from years back. It had somehow gotten into her head that her and Damon wouldn’t ever have that. He looked smitten with Katherine. Elena had gone so far to look up old videos, red carpet interviews and more. It inspired her, letting her emotions flow onto the paper because she wasn’t sure she could possible talk to anyone about it. 

She had booked a private session with Alaric, making it clear that she didn’t want Damon involved. He had agreed, reluctantly. He felt that Damon needed to hear it. Through recording, it was obvious Elena was having a hard time. Her emotions entirely poured into the song, wiping away tears every so often. 

I got a girl crush, hate to admit it but
I got a heart rush, ain’t slowin’ down
I got it real bad, want everything she has
That smile and the midnight laugh she’s givin’ you now
I wanna taste her lips, yeah, ‘cause they taste like you
I wanna drown myself in a bottle of her perfume
I want her long blonde hair, I want her magic touch
Yeah, ‘cause maybe then you’d want me just as much
I got a girl crush, I got a girl crush
I don’t get no sleep, I don’t get no peace
Thinkin’ about her under your bed sheets
The way that she’s whisperin’, the way that she’s pullin’ you in
Lord knows I’ve tried, I can’t get her off my mind
I wanna taste her lips, yeah, ‘cause they taste like you
I wanna drown myself in a bottle of her perfume
I want her long blonde hair, I want her magic touch
Yeah, ‘cause maybe then you’d want me just as much
I got a girl crush
I got a girl crush, hate to admit it but
I got a heart rush, it ain’t slowin’ down

Only when she finished recording did she leave the studio, going home to lock herself in her room. Ric, on the other hand, called Damon immediately. 

loose ends

Originally posted by unlucky--bucky

Summary: He picks up a photo on a bookshelf and Bucky sees her face, her smile between him and Steve and-

He’s breaking down a door, she’s screaming. Metal around her throat, nothing more than choked gasps from her mouth-

-he does not want this memory back.

Word Count: 1225

Warnings: Character death, torture, murder.

He’s so far gone when they find him, incoherently mumbling while unconscious. HYDRA already knows his name – Sergeant James Barnes, from the 107th. If anything, it’s a reunion seeing him back in the lab and Zola smiles as he’s placed on the medical table, already measuring the circumference of his arm.

There was a train, he knows. Memories of a man in blue reaching for him swirling around his mind, and then of a woman he left behind, far before the snow and tracks.

He wakes up and neither of them are there, yet something nags at the back of his mind, telling him that they should be, would be. His vision is hazy but he can make out a man that should be his enemy, the phantom feeling in his left arm before he’s strapped down, despite being too drugged to lift a finger. There’s something digging into his temples, someone says go and-

He’s slipping. Every scream that falls past his lips takes a piece of him with it and he shouldn’t be there.

He shouldn’t be there.

He shouldn’t be there.

Steve’s always telling him, “be careful,” and Bucky always replies, “I am.”

But he’s not and he slips into a diner and into a booth, as far away from the windows as possible. He’s learnt that no matter how little money you have, you can get into anywhere as long as you look like you’re supposed to be there so he does, slouching in the seat and smiling at the girl already sitting there.

“Hey,” he turns on his charm and she’s more amused than flattered. Her eyes flicker upwards to the guys that run by the window, engrossed in the pursuit of someone. “What’s your name?”


What is your name?

James Buchanan Barnes.

“James Buchanan Barnes.”

The scientist frowns, marks something down on paper.

“Go again.”

Keep reading

Kanye gone. Our n***a dead.

I used to legit stan all the way O-U-T for one Kanye Omari West. Day one fan. I haven’t been feeling him for a while now. Yeezus put a nail in my love for his artistry. But, this fake ass, fraud ass, wack ass Twitter rant he went on today was it. The man I was a fan of no longer exists. He’s so far gone. He’s truly Kanye Kardashian. I’m sad. It’s utterly ridiculous. And, to try to down Amber & talk about her kid is the definition of bitchassness (no pun). I knew Amber would quiet them tweets. And she did.

Ye needs to let that hurt go. If I were Kim, I’d seriously have to question why my husband is STILL so hung up on his ex. Because it’s telling. Twitter was fun today. Sad to see Ye go down in flames like that. I don’t even care about Swish or Waves or whatever the hell he’s gonna call it next week.

Part Five

Klaus had to say, he was pretty drunk. But he was good drunk. Not so far gone that he got angry, but just enough for the alcohol to be buzzing around his brain, making him feel extremely happy and nostalgic. While he’d never admit it to Ric, he’d had a pretty amazing time. He and Marcel had found some of their other partying pals and had got on the piss pretty hard; especially once they discovered all the free goodies in the beer garden, and had stayed until stumps.

That Caroline girl really knew how to throw a party.

Klaus was smiled a little dreamily at the occupants of the cab, before turning sluggishly to Marcel and saying, “I will definitely be going back there.”

“Me too. That is the best damn bourbon I’ve ever tasted.”

“What’s the place called again?” Klaus asked, realising he still didn’t know.

“Something weird, but kind of fitting,” Marcel said, screwing his eyes up in an effort to remember. “The Lonely… Harpy? Hydrangea?”

“Hybrid,” the taxi driver piped up.

“Yeah, that’s it. The Lonely Hybrid.”  

Klaus felt his eyes go wide, and his heart stopped. There was no way. It had to be a coincidence. Surely.

“The Lonely Hybrid?” Klaus croaked, all traces of tipsiness fleeing from his body.

“Uh-huh, Caroline said it was to do with an old friend she once had. He apparently was the only one who had faith in her, and always encouraged her to follow her dream.”

Klaus’ mind was racing, his thoughts motoring miles a minute. He’d never believed in fate or destiny or any of that written in the stars malarkey, but a Caroline, with a dream to open a bar, with the same name as his URL.

It was too much of a coincidence to ignore.

“Stop the cab!” Klaus said, harshly, causing everyone to stare at him, shocked. He was only a few blocks away, he could run there, no problem. If it really was his Caroline then she would still be there, she’d always had problems delegating.

“I said stop the cab!” he repeated, more urgently still.

“Okay, okay,” the driver grumbled, complying, assuming Klaus needed a little spew.

But to everyone’s surprise, without second glance back at the cab, Klaus sprinted off away, the darkness of the early New York morning engulfing him after only a few metres.

“What was that about?” Marcel mused.

Klaus ran, faster than he ever had before. He had to know. He had to find out the answers to his questions, and apologise, and grovel, and make her see he was still there for her, even if he was a decade late.

As building after building flashed by, he became more and more nervous and desperate to get to her.

But as he reached the building, and was faced with a closed door, Klaus didn’t know how to proceed.

So, he did the natural thing, and tried the door.

It opened.


Caroline was cursing herself.

How on earth had she forgotten to lock the damn door! This was New York, for Christ’s sake, she knew it’s dangers. And it wasn’t as if she were a rookie. She’d been living there for a good five years now.

She frantically looked around, desperate to find something to defend herself with. But there was nothing, unless she wanted to throw either a chair, or her plastic ice cream tub at the interloper. In the end, she ducked out of site behind the bar and gripped a bottle of expensive alcohol close to her chest.

She raised it above her head as she heard the man lumber further into the room, and she snuck a peak, trying to find a way out of the situation.  

Even from her distance and limited vision, she knew the man was out of breath, she could hear his heavy breathing, and she could smell the light musk he was exuding. She hoped she could use his physical exhaustion to her advantage.

Then he passed a window, and his face was caught by the light of a streetlamp.

“Oh my god!” she cried, jumping up from her stop behind the bar. “You’re Klaus Mikaelson!”

He turned and faced her, and Caroline was struck with just how handsome he was in person, even more so than he was in pictures and on the big screen.

Klaus said nothing, just continued to stare at her, his eyes widening.

“You scared me half to death,” Caroline began rambling. “I mean, the least you could do is knock! I thought you were going to be some crazy murderer or something. I suppose it would serve me right for leaving my door unlocked, right?”

Caroline paused to take a breather, giving him the chance to respond. When he didn’t, her anxiety at meeting her daydream cranked up a notch and the rambling continued.

“Did you leave something here? Is that why you came back? I mean, I don’t mean to be rude and, trust me, I am so glad you came tonight and are here. But, we are actually closed, despite my open door and everything. But if you needed something, I am more than willing to help… and…”

Caroline trailed off as she noticed the intensity of his gaze, which hadn’t wavered from her face since she’d first popped up from behind the counter. He was looking at her as though she was his everything, as though she was the sun, and he the earth, destined to circle her for all eternity.  

“Is everything okay?” she mumbled, becoming even more nervous still that he still hadn’t said anything. “You’re not hurt are you?”

She moved towards him then, seemingly to give him a once over, check for injuries. He still couldn’t speak or move however. Now there was no barrier between them, he could take in all of her. For the first time in his life he was seeing Caroline’s perfect form with his own to eyes, and hearing her voice with his own two ears. It was a sweeter moment than he’d ever anticipated.

“Klaus?” she asked him, concern clouding her features. “I mean, you don’t mind me calling you that, do you? Would you prefer Mr Mikaelson?”

She cocked her head slightly, and her eyes met his. He nearly lost his balance at seeing the incredible blue he’d tried to capture so many times with his paints in real life.

He took a step forward, extending one of his hands, desperate to feel her skin.

“Caroline,” he murmured, and the concern fled from her face, and was replaced with wariness.

“How do you know my name?” she asked suspiciously, but she would be lying if she said her stomach wasn’t doing backflips at what her name sounded like on his tongue.

“I am so sorry, Caroline,” he whispered, moving closer to her, needing to experience her smells and sounds of her breathing, more than he needed to breathe himself.

“Sorry for what?” she said, shakily. “I don’t understand.”

She was rooted to the spot, unable to move her legs, pinned as they were by the unwavering passion in his stare. He moved closer still, his hand coming up to brush away a curl from her face.

How was it legal that she be so beautiful? He knew no matter how long he lived, there wouldn’t be enough words in any language to describe the pure beauty that was Caroline Forbes.

He felt a small shudder run through her as the skin of his palm graced her cheek, and she leaned ever so slightly into his touch.

“I am so so sorry,” he repeated, his eyes still boring into hers, his hands still caressing her face.

“For what?” she managed to choke out, trying to process what was happening. Why on earth was Klaus Mikaelson cupping her face and apologising? Why…

Then Caroline saw it clearer than anything, and she honestly didn’t know how she’d not seen it before. The stormy grey eyes that she looked into every day, the plump lips that were so often smirking, the dimples that had melted her heart for ten years.

But she realised then, it hadn’t only been ten years. It had been fifteen. They were the same eyes that she had seen crossed so many times as a teen, as he tried to cheer her up. They were the same lips she fantasised about touching with hers. They were the same dimples she’d playfully teased all those years ago.

And she was horrified.

Hello! Hope you liked part 5! Read and review HERE on ff.net if you feel so inclined! Sorry (not sorry) about the cliffhanger… Read parts ONE, TWO, THREE, and FOUR on Tumblr.

Maybe One Day

“I think I love you”

Dan mumbles softly, carding his hands through jet black hair belonging to the person sounds asleep beside him. Phil had fallen asleep whilst editing a gaming video (“You’re going to end up sleeping here, you know, it’s 1 a.m.” “Yeah, I don’t care” ) and Dan is too far gone to wake him up.

So, he stares longingly at the sleeping figure beside him.


Dan always knew he was in love with Phil, even before they first set eyes on each other on a pixelated screen. AmazingPhil saved him in many ways and that’s what happens in movies right? You fall in love with the hero?

Dan remembers when Phil first decided to Skype him.

Clicking the accept video call left Dan slightly breathless, butterflies fluttering in his stomach like they knew something he didn’t.

Despite the shitty WiFi connection, the piercing blue of his Internet friend’s eyes were the first things Dan saw clearly. The deep cerulean blue were mesmerising and Dan was swimming in them.

“Hi, Dan,” Phil grins at a nervous-looking Dan, clad in a plaid shirt. He knew the narrow lens of his webcam wouldn’t show Phil past his neck but he wanted to look nice nonetheless.

Conversation comes easily after obligatory fanboy confessions of “I love your videos” and “You’re my youtube senpai”.

“Muse? Hmm Origin of Symmetry was pretty good,” Dan yawns, peeking at the 5:00:01 on the bottom right of his screen.

“Tired, Dan? We’ve only been speaking for 5 hours”

“No, I’m good. The caramel macchiato was strong as fuck.” Dan says quickly before yawning again, betraying the lie.

“You have good coffee taste,” Phil says out loud, seemingly unbeknownst to Dan being fast asleep on the pillow beside him. The little snores eventually get noticed though, but not before Phil admits,

“I like you a lot, Dan Howell’.

Dan sleeps well that night.


Dan mouths it again,

“I think I love you”

He says it so softly that even the darkness can’t capture the confession.

It’s for the best, he thinks.

anonymous asked:

stormpilot sentinel/guide au pretty please?

…There’s a guide on the destroyer.

Poe’s head is a little scrambled after having to fight off Kylo Ren, his senses are in agony and his mental shields are in tatters. He’s pretty close to a fugue state that he might not come back from but he’s not so far gone that he doesn’t recognise the familiar niggle at the back of his mind.

There is a guide on the Finaliser.

There shouldn’t be, the First Order aren’t big on anything remotely different than themselves and Sentinel’s and Guide’s are firmly in the different category. They’ve wiped out entire villages on the Outer Rim territories to eradicate the infestation as they put it. So a Guide on a star destroyer, full of First Order ‘troopers, should be in distress or dead.

They’re not dead but they are in distress.

…Just not the full blown panic that Poe’s expecting.

Poe’s got no idea how they’ve survived this long on a First Order ship and it’s not until the Guide’s in his cell wearing one of the most hated and recognisable uniforms in the known galaxy that he realises they’re hiding in plain sight.

The guide drags him into a cosy alcove and removes his helmet and it’s like a heavy curtain is yanked away. He can sense the guide properly now. The fog that had obscured the guide from his senses, the one that he’d attributed to his injuries and crumbling mental state, appears to have been some kind of self-defence.

“Can you fly a TIE fighter?” The Guide asks, barely concealed panic across his dark face. The acrid scent of his sweat sticks to the back of Poe’s throat, a mix of fear and the dust dunes of Jakku but not the burning he’s come to associate with blaster fire. This Guide was planet-side but Poe didn’t sense him. It’s a conundrum but he can’t focus on it, his thoughts slipping away like sand.

Poe’s dangerously close to a feral combat drive because there is a Guide in danger, right in front of him is a Guide who is under threat from their surroundings and it takes everything Poe’s got left to pull himself back to himself, to be smart about this and not succumb to instincts.

“I can fly anything.” Poe says with more confidence than he has. The Guide’s face splits in a wide grin and Poe preens, age old instincts making him puff his chest out for the Guide he’s impressed.

The kid has a plan, a good plan and before Poe can really concentrate they are dropping into the cockpit of a TIE fighter and Poe can finally give into instinct because this, flying and fighting through the darkness of space, this is something he could do in his sleep with no hands.

They screech through the sky and Poe names the Guide, Finn, basking in the myriad of scents he emits. The rush of destroying the canon’s and the missiles, makes him holler with joy.

And then he’s fighting with his instincts again.

The missions requires he go back to Jakku but as the guide says that’s suicide and Poe’s hand’s shake on the controls because he’s putting a guide in danger – his guide. And whoah, the realisation sinks into his bones and steals his breath and it’s true, it’s so true

- and then they’re cart wheeling towards the surface of Jakku, alarms clawing sharply at his battered senses and he’s screaming.

Keep reading

I know he’s done some pretty terrible things but I just don’t see Madara as evil. I think he had very good intentions and wanted very good things. He just went about it the wrong way. Maybe shouldn’t have killed so many people… But he has trust issues and he truly just went crazy. If Izuna wouldn’t have died I think that he wouldn’t have gone so far off the deep end.

asgardianhammer asked:

“did he really just touch you in front of me?”

jealous / possessive meme pt. 3

Denying it came to mind first, the soldier’s eyes darting from the dark haired man who had moved away back to Thor, but it’d be a pointless lie, the warmth of the hand that had been much too low on his back to be friendly a lingering sensation. “Yeah…he won’t be doing it again. He gone now.”

anonymous asked:

Omg Luke beings so far gone that he's pushing his ass back agains ashton and ashton laughs at how desperate he is and Luke blushes but keeps doing it anyone bc he's so so desperate and then ashton makes him call himself a dirty whore for the camera bc everyone on tumblr is gonna love that yes 10/10

luke would just be whining and fucking himself on ashton’s cock while ashton’s fucking him and ashton would laugh little and luke would keep doing it because he’s so desperate for more and more and ashton would be like “are you a little cockslut, hmm?” and luke would just let out this choked whine and nod and be like “only for you, daddy” and nice

( @kalirok )

I’m not going to be responsible. Not for my actions, not for my associates. I’m going to look at my carnage and smile and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.

It’s the motto he lived by. A motto bordering on accumulated self-depreciation but that’s okay! It’s the only truth he could grasp, truth tied to refusing to accept his fate. He’ll blame it on others before he blames it on himself. He’ll blame it on golden eyes that rival his red ones. And gold is so pure and red is so sticky and gooey and dead and he needs to follow something so he follows them. He focuses on those golden eyes and that golden smile and suddenly fangs don’t look so bad and his fangs don’t stop when they dig into flesh. Whenever he digs into flesh they smile wider and for once he’s appreciating.

He’s deep, as deep as he’s been the past two days and so deep the screams from the people who’ll find this man disfigured and torn apart. he can hear it already. already as he tears the male’s throat apart to face approval in those golden eyes. to further those cheers and silence a monster growling in the shadows. everything is golden, so when he looks up, when he smells hostility he wants to know what’s breaking the first good thing he’s had in a while.

that’s how he meets depreciation in his carnage. a woman. a woman sporting a gold that’s beautiful, familiar and terrifying. has him whining in his throat before he can stop himself and cowering much like the corpse below him. he’s no longer smiling, they’re no longer smiling and he wants to sink into the hole he’s dug with his own monster.


It seemed the assassin finally had a lead. For so long he’d waited, and now his chance was here. Rumors spreading like wildfire of Jericho Swain having murdered one of the Noxian heads of government. Of how he had gone on the run, so far as to hop on a galleon bound for Bilgewater. A galleon that Talon would have to sneak his way onto, lest he lose his chance at Swain’s life.

The galleon was manned by your average crew, who seemed unaware of just who they were smuggling out of the country. Swain was nowhere in sight upon the deck, so it seemed only logical that he would be below…