here is part one

WELCOME TO THE MONSTER FACTORY

THE FINAL PAM - EPISODE ONE

i do this. this is final pam. you remember how your backyard barbeque go, the smiths. pretty good it doesn’t seem. ha ha. i tell little joke. next time, you invite pam.

  • Ravenclaw: I feel trapped.
  • Hufflepuff: We're in the middle of an open field.
  • Ravenclaw: No, I feel trapped in this moment in my life. Where am I going? What am I doing? And how am I going to get to where I want to be?
  • Hufflepuff: We're going to charms class, we're going to be doing charms work, and usually hard work and dedication. Try to think in the now.
  • Ravenclaw: Well, in the now I'm contemplating an assault on you.
  • Hufflepuff: At least you're thinking about here and now!

i’m going to hell

9

Emily Deschanel & David Boreanaz - BTS vs Scenes (s1-7)

shitty advice of a college student. (part two)

(read part one here.)

  • sit where you’ll pay attention. sometimes this doesn’t necessarily mean sitting in the very front; personally, I like to sit more in the middle. it gives me a good view of my professor and at the same time makes me feel a lot less self-conscious.
  • not sure about shit? talk to your professor. email your professor. clarify things and show that you’re a student who cares about more than just showing up.
  • get to class on time!!!
  • when you email professors always say THANK YOU for their time and help! remember that they’re not required to put in extra time to help you; but the good ones just do. make these people love you!!! a good relationship could turn your B+ into an A- at the end of the semester.
  • reaching out to both your classmates and your professor when you’re absent is your responsibility.
  • please eat. and drink water. everyday. I mean it.
  • being a good student means that you will have shitty days. a lot of them. sometimes things go wrong, or you have more work than you can handle, or you end up getting a C on a quiz you thought you studied your ass off for. that’s okay. life happens. shit happens. let yourself feel shitty sometimes.
  • once again: let yourself feel shitty sometimes.
  • unless you want to die, don’t cram for your exams!! plan ahead. study a little bit every day so that the information is retained and you don’t have to study as much the night before. the process works. planning ahead will actually make you work lesstrust me.
  • know that mistakes happen and life goes on. sometimes there’s just nothing you can do to change something. acknowledge that you’ve done everything you could, it was worth trying, and move on. mistakes happen so we can learn from them. 
  • be realistic with your daily to-do list. if you spent all night studying your ass off for that mid-term and you know that you won’t have the mental energy to get a whole list of things done the next day, then they can wait! pace yourself and get done as much as you are capable of doing in one sitting.
  • you don’t have to look gorg going to class but if putting together daily looks and getting ur face beat gives you that motivation to go to school than you go girl!!!!
  • it does not matter if another student your age seems like they have it all together; because chances are, they don’t. no one does. we are all struggling to get shit done. we all have our own journeys. it is not a competition. no path is more valuable than another.
  • stress doesn’t mean you’re entitled to being an asshole. the people in your life probably know that you have a lot on your plate. they’re trying to live their lives as hard as you are. don’t be a dick about it.
  • Me (an Ace person): *Blogging about Pride month
  • Me: *Sees Ace discourse*
  • Me: *Blogs about Pride month even harder*

in which y/n attends the after party…

a part two to in which y/n buys harry starbucks…

Y/N was not a partier. It wasn’t that she was shy or didn’t like them. It was just that she was introverted and partying took a lot out of her (Also, she couldn’t hang like she used to. By 10pm, when most parties were kicking off, she was ready to drag herself into bed). However, when Harry Styles says he wants to see you at a party, you go to that party.

She’d been iffy after she met him at Starbucks about actually getting tickets to the show. Still, a few hours later, she found herself at Will Call, chewing nervously on her bottom lip in hopes that he was serious about what he said previously. And, he was. Relief flooded her as she was slid two tickets along with a piece of paper that held an address on it. She presumed it to be the location of the after party and slid it into her back pocket. 

Her nerves were bouncing all over the place as she stood in line to enter the venue. Her feelings were put to the side, however, as she saw a girl get turned away at the door and her friend stood staring wide eyed with her jaw dropped. She instantly was moved to action. As she neared the front of the line, she could hear the girl who’s ticket was apparently fake, breathing through tears, telling her friend to go in without her, forcing a smile. “Wait!” she called out to them, not that either one of them were going anywhere. They were stood off to the side. “I just saw what happened, and I have two tickets. You could just trade me the one for these two.” She held the tickets out for them, as they eyeballed them.

“These are third row tickets. Mine isn’t even on the floor." 

She shrugged, nonchalantly. "I’m just happy to be here.” And, she was considering three hours ago she didn’t even have tickets or an invitation to an after party extended by Mr. Harry Styles himself. After meeting him today, this was the least she could do. 

“How do we know these are real?” The same girl asked, still eyeing the tickets suspiciously. 

Seeing as they were still holding up the line, Y/N scurried over to the ticket checker, so she could scan the tickets. They checked out. The two girls quickly scrambled to her side, swapped tickets, and made their way inside the venue. Once in, they hugged each other tightly, crying (what she hoped to be) tears of joy, at the sudden turn of events before they turned to her and included her in the action, letting their appreciation known through muffled sobs. “How much do you want for it?” the girl who had the fake ticket asked once she got herself together.

She shook her head, giving them a small smile. “I don’t want your money.”

“Seriously? I can’t just let you do this. These must’ve cost a fortune.”

She didn’t want to reveal that she’d got them for little more than a cup of coffee, so she just shook her head politely once more. “Honestly. I’m fine. You two just have a good time.”

“I could get you a t shirt or a hat or one of those pins or–”

She cut the girl off since she was so insistent upon repaying her in some way—which seemed to be a common theme for her today. “Water! And some popcorn, if you must.”

The girls beamed at her as they made their way to the concession stand. They did not stop talking the entire time, not that she minded. They thanked her endlessly and chatted a bit about Harry, but finally parted ways with her, giving one final hug, when they noticed the time and the length of the merch line, and she went to go find her new seat.

—–

In hindsight, she was glad she wasn’t sitting in the third row. After she played it relatively cool that afternoon it would’ve been moderately embarrassing for him to see the way she sobbed as soon as his silhouette appeared straight through Ever Since New York, only regaining slight composure once the bridge hit. But, really, she was a mess throughout the entire concert. So, not only did she do those girls a favour but also herself and possibly Harry. 

The kind, older lady sat in front of her, whom she’d made friends with, let her borrow her binoculars a few times throughout the show and it wasn’t lost on her the slight look of confusion (or perhaps disappointment, but that was wishful thinking) she saw on his face when he really looked into the first couple rows of the crowd. 

Her presence, or seemingly lack there of, had absolutely no impact on his performance, though. It was arguably the best concert she’d ever been to. She felt so at home with all the Harries screaming their heads off and just going completely nuts, as per Harry’s request, during the show. 

However, the same could not be said for the after party. She was a fan. She didn’t have any connections or friends or any real reason to be there other than the haphazard invitation Harry extended to her earlier in the day. That thought carried her straight to the open bar, where she ordered a Long Island iced tea, then caused her to beeline for one of the outer walls. She meandered around the outside of the party watching everyone mingle, only offering a few smiles to those who passed. 

It seemed as though her presence was going to go unnoticed, not that she was doing much of a job at being approachable, as she contemplated on getting another drink, having sipped hers down over the hour she’d been at the lounge, or leaving altogether. She jumped when she felt a firm grasp on her elbow, breaking her line of thought. 

She hadn’t planned on doing a lot of things that day, but it’s safe to say that getting kidnapped topped that list. Her mind was eased as she turned around to see Harry gripping her, no longer donned in his Gucci suit but looking good nonetheless. She wasn’t quite sure what to say to him so she just grinned at him, subtly looking between his face and her arm before he got the hint and let her go. 

He coughed lightly. “You could’ve told me you didn’t like my music, ya know?”

She furrowed her eyebrows, not quite sure where he got that notion from.
He answered the question she hadn’t even gotten the chance to ask yet, almost immediately after seeing her expression. “You weren’t in the crowd. I literally scanned all the front rows.”

“Ohhhh. No, I went. I didn’t sit there, though.”

“If you had tickets, you should’ve just told me.”

Her face contorted into something that was halfway between confusion and amusement. “Why are you assuming I lied to you earlier? I was waiting in line after picking my tickets up and I saw these two girls. One, apparently, had purchased a fake ticket and instead of holding onto those two tickets, I swapped with the one girl who had a legitimate ticket and just gave them the ones you got me.”

His mouth opened and closed a few times. “Sorry I–”

“Was just wondering how to get your exceptionally large foot out of your even larger mouth?” she finished, rolling her eyes, teetering between the lines of annoyed and amused.

“That was really lovely,” he settled upon as a response.

She shrugged. “Treat people with kindness, right?”

Dimples coined into his cheeks. “Absolutely. Now… can I buy you a drink?”

“It’s an open bar.”

He looked at her like she was crazy, eyebrows shot up with his lips twisted together. “No, it’s not.”

“Oh. Well, you can pay for the Long Island iced tea I already accidentally stole and just get me a glass of water.”

“You sure?” he chuckled.

“Yes, sir.”

He headed to the bar as she turned around bowing raspberries into the air in an attempt to calm herself down. 

All too soon, Harry was back, handing her her water, then slipping his hand into hers, leading her to a booth. Instead of sliding in across from her, he slid in directly next to her which sent her nerves in a frenzy. “Figured I’d sit over here, so I can hear you better. It’s quite loud in here.”

She chucked nervously, nodding in understanding, sipping on her water as he gulped down some of his drink. She couldn’t hold it in anymore. She had to ask. “What am I doing here?” she blurted before he could get a word out.

He puckered his lips to the side, furrowing his eyebrows. “I’m not quite sure what you mean…”

She splayed her hands out in front of them, releasing broken groans. “Like, bro, I just– I just bought you…. coffee! Now I’m sat in a booth with you at an after party. I’m not even, like–” she waved her hands in circles wildly. 

He giggled, looking down at the table and shaking his head. “I just want to get to know you.”

“But, why?” She just couldn’t wrap her head around it. She wasn’t anything special. She wasn’t exceptionally beautiful or talented or smart. And, she knew, even past all her nerves, that Harry was just a normal guy as well, but why on earth would he spare her more than a passing glance?

“I just think you’re lovely.”

She glared at him. She needed more of an explanation than that. 

“The guy at Starbucks told me you didn’t want him to tell me that you paid for my coffee. And, then you told me yourself that you didn’t expect anything out of it.. And, you gave up your tickets for one in the back. And, I saw you when you first came in, and in the least creepy way possible, I just sort of watched you bounce around smiling, bopping around to the music, chatting with a few people. Also, you haven’t even asked for a picture. Not that I mind when people ask me, but I don’t know, it just, I don’t know,you don’t want anything. It’s, uh– You’re lovely.”

She was stunned. Partly because of what was said and partly because of who said it. She just stared at him, not knowing how to reply. 

“Well, say something.” He laughed, eyes skipping around the room. He wasn’t quite prepared to look straight at her. “Christ, talking to girls is just as terrifying as always.”

Her face lit up and broke into a wide grin. “You’re talking to me?”

“You’re the only other person in the booth, aren’t you?”

She shook her head. “No, like, you’re talking to me. You’re chatting me up? Are you putting the moves on me, Styles? Is this what this is?”

He bumped her shoulder with his. “Piss off.”

They smiled at each other and all the possibilities.. Hers faltered after a few moments. “You’re on tour.”

“I am,” he confirmed.

She clasped her hand on top of his. “Harry, in a few days, I won’t even be a passing thought. Maybe the next time you go into Starbucks I’ll be that one chick that bought you something, but nothing more." 

His face dropped into a pout. "You’re not even going to give me a chance?”

She quirked her lip upwards and shrugged slightly. “I couldn’t ask for that kind of commitment from you.”

“Baby, I just want to get to know you,” he said in a voice all slow and thick and deep. 

She wasn’t sure at which point they shifted that much closer together, but he was resting his forehead against hers leaving her breathless. Naturally, she sputtered out a few strings of laughter. “One thing you should know about me is that I’m uncomfortable in most social situations." 

"Duly noted,” he stated, rolling his eyes because she completely ruined the mood he set, head following suit and backing up a few inches. 

“So… just friends?”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Sure."He gulped down the remainder of his drink while she sipped on her water. Neither of them were 100% satisfied with the arrangement, but someone had to be rational. She kept telling herself that she was doing the right thing. "Actually, can I kiss you?”

For the second time that night, she was rendered completely speechless. Y/N had been exercising extreme self-control up to that point. She didn’t have an anxiety attack when she met him the first time. She gave up amazing seats to see him (¼ of the biggest band in the world!). She turned him down when he came onto her. But, she couldn’t find it in herself to reject the chance to feel those lips on hers.. Like she imagined meeting him, she imagined kissing him a million times, but nothing compared to the fluffy, pillowy sensation that washed over her body when she nodded meekly at his request, sliding her hands up to grasp his face. 

It wasn’t like a full blown snog. It was short and sweet, but that knowledge didn’t do anything to quell the butterflies that took flight in her stomach. She kept her eyes closed and hands on his face for a good five seconds after the kiss ended, simply basking in it. “Maybe we can be a little more than friends.”

“Yeah?” he questioned, optimism laced in his every word, before pushing his lips back to hers for a few more seconds. 

“Yeah, but, maybe later. When you’re not so busy. After tour ends, if you even remember me.”

“I have a feeling you’ll be one of the few people I can’t forget.” His face set into that signature lopsided smirk. 

“We’ll just have to wait and see.”

“That we will, my dear, that we will.”

Vampire Chronicles Aesthetics ❧ The Vampire Lestat

anonymous asked:

Dan's new live video @ 5:01, there's definitely some hair straighteners on the floor

i have a few things to say, but i’ll start from left to right. 

a) i loved his face when someone pointed out the candle on the other night table, idk he was just so taken aback. like “… oh yeah! single candle… the bedroom candle…” 

b) i love the bed, it’s so pretty. everything just looks neat? besides from the bloody awful curtains; the moon mirror, the frame of the bed, it’s all lovely. 

c) what is that black box my dude. is that the new box of secrets? what is that about.

d) why does he have the stupid rockband drum set in the bedroom, i thought the consoles were upstairs? no, Hold the fuck up, the DRUMSET used to be upstairs!! I’M SURE OF IT. have u guys put a tv in the bedroom and carried all the consoles downstairs so you could play lying on the bed? that’s peak lazyness, i’m so disappointed in you both. 

e) ah yes, the dryson hairdryer. that shit is full 200 pounds. they have the hair dryer and two dryson fans, this is rich commodity in its finest. i wonder if they have the hoover as well, that one looks amazing and everyone says it’s actually totally worth the thousand dollars. 

f) the straighteners and the concept of this being proof. i think that at this point, it’s just funny to me that it’s a topic we have to talk about, the straighteners were on the floor last time he did a liveshow in the room and i thought that was it, right? i feel like people just forget things happen and/or act as if we don’t know they share a bedroom! i mean, do as you please, but i’d like skip ahead into the part where we accept it’s a thing and we let this be the normal, status quo, this is what it is you know? still lovely to be reminded that they do though, i get ya.

g) what is the white thing hanging from that awful curtain, what is it. i need answers.

h) in what fucking moment did both of them hoard so many pairs of shoes. i swear to god, all dan wears is those ones with the zips and phil wears the blue ones and that’s about it. but im counting here over 20 pairs of shoes, and they even want us to believe that they’re owned by just dan? try me again, what the hell is this, they need to start giving to charity, there is NO WAY they find use to over 20 pair of shoes, you do not need that many, specially when you spend most of your life at home wearing socks.

i) it’s funny that even though the mess that was the last time he did a liveshow in his room, with phil’s damage control and all, the mirror is still there, like whatever my dude. cool white mirror dan. 

i think that’s all, thanks for reading if u made it this far.