he-was-not-amused-with-me

anonymous asked:

This isn't really an ask but I felt like you might be amused. I was explaining hogwarts houses to my coworker and I said "I'm on slytherin cuz I'm cunning and ambitious". A server came around the corner and said "are you guys talking about cunnilingus?!?!" And tried to high five me. Now he's mad at me cuz I won't high five for cunnilingus.

Andy: that’s gonna be one of my new things. *high fives*

horationelson  asked:

so elissa you should write prompt 16 for elate okay thanks

Yooo ask and you shall receive. It’s a little on the shorter end but here you go! (xkit has vanished so I can’t tag rn but I’ll fix that later)


16: “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

The humming of the plane had long faded away to the back of Nate’s mind, but it was sufficient to drown out the voice of the other inhabitant of the bay of the plane. Unfortunately, his brain wouldn’t quite allow him to ignore her.

He caught the end of a question and made himself look at her, face already heating up. She was sitting with an amused twist to her mouth, toying with the strap of her watch.

“Sorry, what’d you say?”

Elena opened her mouth, then flicked an irritated glance at the plane in general and Sully, up in the cockpit, in particular (Nate had to agree, given the earlier… incident on the dock that was 80% of why his face was already burning). She gestured him over.

Nate hesitated just a moment, feeling the steady humming of the plane. No turbulence to dump him in her lap or any stupid sappy crap like that. He pushed himself to his feet and crossed to crouch next to her– not ideal, but it was better than standing over her or (God forbid) sitting next to her.

Within seconds, the plane tilted sideways and he sprawled back on his ass. Elena’s hand went to her mouth, but the grin hidden behind it said she wasn’t really sorry.

“Yeah, yeah, very funny,” Nate said, heroically long-suffering. She snorted. “Very attractive,” he added.

Crap. Why did he say that? That was such a nasty thing to say. Crap.

“You just fell on your ass,” Elena told him with a grin. “And you’re disgusting. Though–” she examined her hand, making a face. “We could probably both use a shower, really.”

“Yeah, well, if Sully hadn’t been in such a hurry to get out of–” they changed direction again and only a hand on the edge of her seat kept Nate from faceplanting into her lap. He pushed himself back, hastily, completely certain he could never look her in the face again. “See? This is what I have to put up with.”

“Whoa there. Is he always this much of a–” He lost the rest of her sentence. Irritated, she grabbed his chin and tipped his face up to look at her, but that probably had the opposite effect of what she’d intended. His face was on fire where she’d touched him, and the way her hair fell across her face and the smudge of dirt on her nose…

It took him a moment to realize that she was studying him just as intently as he was staring at her. So that was the intention, then. His heart pounded under his shirt. Slowly, painfully and frighteningly slowly, he reached out and gently cupped her face, skin cool under his fingertips. Elena leaned forward, her gaze still taking in every detail of his face, and he shifted to his knees. This was the first time he’d been this close to her without the adrenaline of that job racing through them both, and he wanted to make it last–

“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

He jerked to a halt, their foreheads almost touching. “What?”

She had her hands on his shoulders, exasperated. “Come on, Nate. I’ve waited this long.”

Well. As she commanded, then. He closed the gap to press their lips together, gently at first, but she certainly wasn’t one to move slowly. He could appreciate that.

Even when Sully, almost certainly aware of what was going on in the back of his plane, made a sharper turn than was necessary and she fell on top of him, their heads bumping together. He sat halfway up, rubbing his cheekbone, before she pushed him down again. He didn’t bother trying again for the rest of the trip.

send me a prompt!

Elizabeth’s Secret

Lizzy: Ciel i have a confession to make….I DID sleep with Alois that night.

Ciel: *GASP*

Sebastian: What a twist!

Lizzy: Its just…he was scared of the storm and asked me to sleep beside him just in case. 

Ciel: What, you mean you two never….? You know?

Lizzy: Ohh! Ciel, you bloody pervert! *slap!*

Sebastian: And so the plot curdles. *Amused grin*

Very Funny Story From My Daughter!

My 8th grade daughter just told me something hilarious. A boy in her grade was suspended today because he yelled…
“THERE IS ONLY 1 GENDER BECAUSE WOMAN ARE OBJECTS!!!” during recess. LMAO

My daughter thought it was very funny but didn’t laugh because she noticed her friends were not amused. I’m glad my kid has a sense of humor and knows when someone is just pushing buttons for a laugh. The boy did receive a 1 day suspension which I think is harsh but considering the over PC era we live in it could have been worse.

Amusing TMNT Spoilers

1. “End Times”
MIKEY I LOVE YOU. GO SAVE THE WORLD WITH BUBBLE GUM, YOU STEALTHY CINNAMON ROLL.
 HOLY SHIT ZOMBIE. EW EW EW EW EW. For anyone with a “living dead phobia” like me, warning, zombie as fuck and it’s gross and his head falls off and uugghh I couldn’t look, so gross. PS, his name starts with S and even he knows he’s not supposed to be here.
That wizard guy is freaking hilarious, I adore him, why is he dead.
Really, writers? Is that it? Is that all the Splinter? Shut up, I hate you. He’d better come back.

2. “Heart Of Evil”
Donnie, you fool, stop that.
What did I just say?
HOLY SHIT, MIKEY. HOLY SHIT. MIKEY!!! WTF! *SCREAM* Ow ow ow ow ow. Oh, something’s broken. Oowww Mikey.
See, Donnie? YOU SEE? Your little brother is broken and bruised and lacerated and you’d better apologize as you’re carrying his injured ass to the lair! You’d better be waiting on that boy hand and foot, Donnie. Look what you did.

And see, this is what I mean by the spacetime between episodes. How long did it take for Mikey to heal up, anyway? I call it “the space we fanficcers get to explore freely”.

darcylehwis  asked:

This is gonna sound so strange - what if (put them in modern day) Bellamy met Stiles? Or Clarke met Lydia? What do you think would happen?

haha i’ve actually thought about this and it’s SO HARD TO DECIDE

Stiles would hate them both immediately because they’re strangers. And he would do that thing where he makes jabbing comments at them because he doesn’t trust them. And when Bellamy leaves he would turn to Lydia and be like, “God, that dude was so hot, please tell me you’re not into him.” And Lydia would just roll her eyes.

I think Bellamy would regard Stiles in the same way he regards Jasper. Like, “ok, funny guy, I’m not amused but have your fun, I guess.” But he would like and respect Lydia.

And Lydia would like Clarke, I think– I think she would like her strength and smarts. And Clarke would admire Lydia’s intelligence.  I think they’d get along well, although at first they might be wary of each other. Two queens in the same space, sizing each other up. ;)

444 Celebration Drabble #1

1/5
@mccoymostly
AOS McKirk (Bones/Kirk) - #17
“You cannot pay me enough money to go in there.”

I hope you like this!  I’m not entirely sure what inspired it, but I’m seriously amused.



              “Dammit, Jim, I said no!”

               “Bones, come on, this is important!”

               “So is my sense of pride.  I will not be objectified!”  

               “She didn’t want anyone else!  You have to.  If you don’t, the deal goes south!  It’s only going to take a couple of hours. Come on.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

remember when hoseok was like "if you don't wake up I'll kiss you"? first of all ??? not a threat boy I'll stay asleep forever. secondly I really want him to wake me up with a kiss really bad

you really wanted that extra five minutes of sleep, but you were definitely awake. getting out of bed seemed like so much unnecessary energy. you could sense hoseok roll over, his hands on either side of you, waiting for you to open your eyes.

“if you don’t wake up I’ll kiss you.” his voice is serious yet there’s a hint of amusement. if he thinks that’s a bad thing, he’s wrong. as innocuous as the threat is, though, it’s still a threat. when you don’t stir, he lets out a huff. “I’m serious, don’t make me kiss you.” 

a minute ticks by and you think he’s given up when he grabs your face with both hands and presses his lips to yours. your breath catches in your throat. you don’t breathe right again until he pulls away. “good morning,” you greet. 

he smirks down at you. “you still look tired, maybe I should keep going.”

fan-this-spark-into-a-flame  asked:

BOI I'M REQUESTING SOME COGSWORTH x LUMIÉRE (not smut tho) BC OH MY GOD I LOVE IT

Your wish is my absolute pleasure! Just a bit of fluff (I’m in the midst of writing something much more substantial for these two!) but I hope you like it:

“Ah, Cogsworth!”

On any other day, Cogsworth would have found the odd emphasis on the final syllable of his name amusing. Endearing, even. He’d never heard anyone else, even a Frenchman, pronounce his name the way Lumière did. The former candlestick insisted that he was from a very small village with an exceptional accent (‘Rare, like a fine wine, mon cher!’) but Cogsworth wasn’t sure he believed him. His culinary training, after all, could only be Parisian.

“Your forehead is more creased than the bedsheets, mon ami! Relax, it was only a kiss. We were celebrating!”

Cogsworth thought that the residents of Lumière’s village must have very strange ideas about celebration. It had been three weeks since they were returned to their human forms, and he still hadn’t found a way to talk to his friend about how his wax lips had felt against his pane of varnished wood. Apparently, he wasn’t going to.

“It was not proper,” he tried, knowing even as he let the words out that they sounded weak. As if he was looking for an objection, rather than believing it. Apparently Lumière knew that, too, because he raised one eyebrow and quirked his head in amused fashion.

“Not proper, mon cher?”

Cogsworth hated how much he didn’t hate when Lumière called him that.

“Or not good enough?” Before the butler could even begin to splutter in indignation, Lumière was speaking again, stepping forward on the end of each sentence. “Perhaps you were feeling more jubilant than that, no? Perhaps you feel that my little efforts did not express how…” He was very close now, “wonderful you feel?”

Cogsworth decided that how he actually felt was as if someone had pulled the tablecloth from beneath him, and all his gears had come loose. Was the other man right? Cogsworth’s mind rebelled at the idea, but there was a little click elsewhere in him that disagreed.

“Perhaps you feel Plumette should not have had my lips after they had become yours.” Lumière’s voice was quiet, measured. He was looking Cogsworth directly in the eye, and Cogsworth found he couldn’t quite look away. Not even to blink.

“N-No,” he managed.

Lumière shook his head. “Try again, mon cher.”

Cogsworth struggled to find another option, but it was difficult to think of any more objections with Lumière so close to him. The truth had, very unexpectedly, become the easiest choice. He took it.

“Yes.” Cogsworth’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it drew a smile from Lumière so bright that for a moment, the butler wondered if his candles were flaring. And then Lumière leaned closer, and Cogsworth felt sure that his face must be as hot as it would have been if he was close to those burning flames. Cool lips brushed his cheek, and shining eyes found his startled gaze.

“Come, amour.” Cogsworth blushed, and Lumière grinned. “We have a dinner to present.”

hellopyrrhanikosus  asked:

You know what i find hilarious, the defenders of the wing test on snotlout to see if he worthy of being a king. I say this cause , Mala is voiced by the same actress who played Mary, Queen of Scots (from the show reign), whose own search for a husband is rather more desperate.

I haven’t seen Reign, but that does sound like an amusing parallel! XD

Quick dialog peek before rehearsal.

Julia is trying to convince Jamie to teach her how to use his sword. It isn’t going well.
~~~~~~

“Why not?” I demanded.

Da answered indirectly, “‘Tis no a toy.”

“I know *that*,” I rolled my eyes.“ I don’t want you to teach me how to play with it, I want to fight with it.”

Brows raised, he looked back over his shoulder at me and asked, “Just who is it that ye want to fight?”

“Well, no one in particular, but I should know how to defend myself!”

He stopped walking so suddenly that I crashed into him. Murmuring an apology, I looked up to find him suddenly serious, the glint of amusement gone from his eyes. “It is my duty to protect ye and yer mother, Julia. I’ll no be leaving you defenseless. Ever.”

I took away from him and crossed my arms, “So I’m just stuck being a damsel in distress when something happens? I’m just supposed to trust that some brave knight will magically appear when I need him?”

I’m scrolling through tumblr and my fiancé is sleeping next to me, it’s 3:20AM and suddenly he whispers “there’s… too much meat”

I ask him wtf are you talking about and he just continues mumbling about “too much meat”. I’m like are you even awake??? He just answers yea and smiles. It’s quiet for a while and i already thought he had fallen asleep again or whatever, but then i hear a small laugh and “…not enough salad”

‘I Love You’: a man’s perspective

I haven’t made the rounds yet this morning, but already last night I’ve seen multiple posts that seem to want to either downgrade or erase the meaning behind Sherlock’s words to Molly Hooper. I find it insanely amusing, because had those words been to John Watson, people would be wetting themselves, but because it was for Molly, people are climbing all over themselves to again deny this character her actual fair due.

My husband, who watches Sherlock with me, had some very interesting perspectives on The Final Problem. He tends to read the show textually, without shipping or all the other nonsense we as fandom people get into.  I tend to trust what he says only because he has no ulterior motives, like zero. Even my own ship doesn’t really mean a damn thing to him. He knows I love it, but he’s not swayed by my reading or my desires at all.  

His reading of The Final Problem was that this was Eurus effectively unlocking the original Sherlock Holmes.  This was Sherlock’s sister, bringing him home, just as he was bringing her home.  To do that, she had to undo what she did when she took Victor Trevor away from him at that young age.  She took a little boy who was filled with bright, wonderful, hot emotion, and she made him lock that away.  She made him like her, and to my husband, it seemed like that was never what Eurus wanted.  

The scenes inside Sherrinford were about systematically making Sherlock face each single, major emotion that he’s refused to feel all these years: anger, fear, sadness, and above all…love.  And no, I don’t mean love for your best friend, that’s already been addressed, and that was already the easiest thing for Sherlock to unlock in himself. He basically did that in S1.  Sherlock loves John, his best friend, just like he loved Victor.  The parallels are spelled out for you in the clearest of ways.  

Sherlock’s locking away of his ‘sexuality’ was already broken open in S2 with Belgravia.  Irene Adler represented a part of Sherlock that really, really wanted out.  It was confusing as hell for him, as we saw, but he still managed to deal with it.  Sex is sex is sex.  It’s meaningful, and at the same time, can also be meaningless.  I personally never saw Irene as meaningless, far from it.  But I do think her special place in Sherlock’s “unlocking” was more physical than emotional.  Hence, we were reminded of this by the moan of her text tone. I personally think Sherlock’s sexuality is firmly unlocked at this point, no need to revisit it again and again.  Something that remained hidden though, very deep down, was Sherlock’s ability, willingness and understanding of a deeper love, and what that means.  This is where Eurus comes in.

The scene with the coffin was very carefully done, both by the writers and on the part of Eurus’ planning.  In fact, if you listen carefully to Eurus’ words, she states exactly why she did it: you lost, look what you did to her, look what you did to yourself, all those complicated, complex emotions, emotional context.  All of those things are things people feel when they love someone (romantic love, since I’m sure I need to spell it out for some viewers).  You feel elated, but you also feel scared.  You may also hate yourself because you probably feel the person you love deserves BETTER than you.  Should you act on it or let them go find someone better.  Do you have the strength to give up parts of yourself for them?  Do they have the strength to give up parts of themselves for you?  It’s scary as hell, y’all!!

 My hub says, to him, the first time Sherlock says ‘I love you’ to Molly Hooper, he didn’t mean it…or at least Sherlock thinks he didn’t mean it. Then, the second time, he did mean it, and he knows it.  That is why he smashed the coffin…that was perhaps the biggest emotion he’d locked away, and he was consumed and confused by it.  For a man who has spent decades pushing love away, it came roaring in within 3 minutes, and he couldn’t push it away. Eurus wouldn’t let him push it away, and more importantly, Molly Hooper wouldn’t let him push it away. That’s why she turned the tables on him and made him say it first.  She inadvertently helped Eurus, which I’m sure was her plan all along (if you believe she’s as much of a supernatural badass as she’s shown to be).

My husband’s purely textual reading of Sherlock’s smashing the coffin with ‘I love you’ on it is that he DID mean it, but he wasn’t sure what that meant to him, and it scares him, greatly.  He said that looked like a man who was pissed that he LOVES.  He spent his entire life working at not loving, and here he is, loving this woman, but now he isn’t sure what to do about it, because he’s not even sure what that really means.  He doesn’t understand it…yet.  Love like that is incredibly strong, true love I mean, not “Hey let’s bone” love.  He said that wasn’t the actions of a man who doesn’t really care.  He said, as a man, if I had to get a woman to say that and I didn’t really love her, I wouldn’t care as much.  I surely wouldn’t care enough to smash an entire coffin to bits with my bear hands.

Lastly, my husband said something I thought was incredibly interesting about how he reads Sherlock.  He said he thinks the reason Sherlock hasn’t really pursued any other relationships with women, not seriously that is, is that on some level he really knew he loved Molly, but that he felt HE wasn’t good enough for HER.  He thinks Sherlock, for all of his arrogance, actually doesn’t think he’s a good man.  He knows Molly Hooper deserves a good man, someone to love her exactly how he thinks she should be loved, and he’s terrified he ISNT that man, or he CANT be that man.  His rage at smashing that coffin was basically anger at himself, anger at himself for loving this woman who really deserves more.

So, from a man who views this show with as much pure text as possible, he thinks that “I Love You” was real, but he thinks Sherlock simply doesn’t know what to do with it, doesn’t know what it means.  He said love is the scariest thing, especially to someone who’s lived closed off.  He’s had an upbringing that, without going into details, was a bit devoid of emotional support from people he needed it from. That means that learning how to show love was incredibly, incredibly difficult for him.  Trust me, I’ve been here for the entire thing.  It took years for him to learn how to show it.  It took me years too…in fact I still have massive trouble with it. People who’ve lived not understanding how to love since young childhood…it takes us a very long time to learn how to do it.  

My husband and I are not the kind of people who go on romantic ballroom dancing dates and snuggle on the Tunnel of Love ride.  We’re just not those kind of people…but we do love each other very much.  We have our way of showing it that works for us. There’s no one else I’d rather trust my mind, body and soul to.  That was first built on friendship, then trust, then love.  For us, I think that’s kind of where Sherlock is starting to head.  We may not ever see that adventure, as that’s not what Sherlock’s story was about.  But, finding how to love, that was his story, and Molly Hooper is an irreplaceable part of that.  No one can deny that, not ever.

Playing through Dragon Age II again, and Anders’s combat dialogue never fails to amuse me.

‘For freedom!’ he roars triumphantly, at a giant spider.

‘Never taunt a mage!’ he declares, at his mage opponent.

‘Destructive forces of nature coming up!’ he threatens, and turns around to heal Varric.

‘Suck on a fireball!’ he snarls, and casts Winter’s Grasp.

Anders, buddy, you need to work on your timing.

Rhys looks haunted.

“Who’s going to tell them?”

He gets nothing but avoided eye contact and silent sips of coffee in return.

“I am completely serious. Someone has to say something and it really shouldn’t be me.”

He had thought that all nine of them of them taking a weekend together in the cabin would be fun–and it had been, until he’d been kept up very late by the half-muffled sounds coming from Elain and Lucien’s room. Not of sex, per say; the cabin provides what soundproofing it can, and it should be enough for all the couples to enjoy themselves without bothering each other, but Elain and Lucien had been doing something… loud. Repeatedly.

Cassian is grinning like a maniac, amused beyond all reason. “Okay, I know Rhys is uncomfortable because he’s never done anything that actually qualifies as kinky, but does anyone else think this is hilarious?”

“I object to that profiling of my sex life, Cassian.”

“You’ve never done anything weirder with Feyre than a blindfold,” Cassian says, eyebrows raised, “I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that, I’m just saying.”

“A blindfold is very kinky,” Rhys asserts, affronted. Mor snorts and he ignores it, focused on Cassian. “What have you two done that’s so much more exciting?”

Nesta, sitting straight as a queen, speaks before Cassian can. “If you answer that question in front of all our friends, Cas, you will never get to do any of those things ever again.”

“We’re off topic,” Feyre announces, setting down her mug of tea decisively. “The question at hand here is who is going to tell Elain and Lucien that spanking is off-limits during their time here.” Silence. She shrugs. “I think it should be Nesta.”

“I’ll do it if you want, but it won’t go well,” Nesta replies flatly. “I have a hard time not slapping the smirk off Lucien’s face on a good day.”

Cassian brandishes a spoonful of oatmeal. “Well, apparently he’s into that, so–”

“Why not Cassian?” Rhys says pointedly, “Since, as he tells us, he’s so knowledgeable about the whole area.”

“That would mortify Elain,” Feyre says, keeping them firmly on track. “It should probably be one of the girls.” Amren, in the corner, lowers her mug of blood to look less than enthused. “It should be Mor or I,” Feyre amends.

Mor gives an casual little shrug. “The noise didn’t bother me, to be honest.”

Rhys frowns in disbelief. “Surely you heard it.”

“We did.”

She does not elaborate, and Rhys suddenly finds it suspicious how quiet Azriel’s been, and how he’s not making eye contact. Cassian seems to have the same thought as he glances between the two of them.

“Mother’s tits,” Cassian says, gaping. “You guys got off on it, didn’t you?”

They don’t respond, but Mor reddens incriminatingly. Cassian’s eyes go wide and he throws his head back in a howl of laugher, over Nesta’s protestations.

Amren is surveying all of them with disdain. “I have been present for some truly insipid conversations between the lot of you but I must say, this one is exceptionally awful.”

“Now THAT’S what I mean by kinky, Rhys” Cassian proclaims, wiping tears from his eyes. “Fucking to the sounds of another couple’s pain play. Cauldron. I’m so proud.”

Rhys looks long-suffering as he turns to Feyre, takes her hand, and kisses it sweetly. “I’m so sorry, darling,” he intones dramatically. “I’ve exposed you to a nest of perverts.”

“Who’s a pervert?” Elain asks with a giggle, choosing this moment to sweep into the kitchen, bright-eyed and with a sated-looking Lucien in her wake. “Are we talking about Cassian again?”

But the whole room has gone silent. Elain falters, looking from one awkward face to the next. “What’s wrong?”

When no one answers, it’s Amren who gets up and says baldly to the two of them, “Everyone from here to Velaris could hear whatever it was you were doing last night. It made these fools uncomfortable, largely. Do with that information what you will.” In the shocked silence following, she puts her empty mug in the sink, unhurried, and heads for the door. “I’m going for a walk far away from this nonsense. If anyone needs me, you are encouraged to reconsider.”

The door slams shut behind her.

“Oh,” Elain says faintly.