hope this was what you were looking for!

therealmonique  asked:

Hello! Long time no see! So my friend wants to make a comic, but wants to add the underfell au in it, but before she does that she wants permission from the creators. I was wondering if you knew that person who made the underfell au! Also you are a great person and I love your blog and it never fails to brighten my day!

Ohmigosh hello!

Well! The original creator of Underfell kind of uh, threw the AU to the community and took off, so to speak ((The blog is locked too so yeah…)), so “Underfell” as a whole is community-owned, you can do whatever you want with it… Which is why there’s so many diverse stories related to it lol

… And oh gosh thank you, you’re way too kind, and also a fantastic person! >w>;

EDIT: OH RIGHT. If you were planning on adding a particular rendition of Underfell in it ((IE. Kaito’s Underfell story is glorious, or ManiaKnight’s fangame version of the characters, etc etc)) you may want to ask those particular blogs for permission tbh. But they’re a quick search away so no sense linking >w>

Gibbs & Red Lipstick

This was requested by @jez-zolnierz! <3 I hope you all enjoy this! <3

Word Count: 279

Warnings: Fluff

(gif is not mine)

You walked into the squad room, getting a surprised look from Tony.  He noticed the bright red lipstick on your lips the moment you stepped out of the elevator.  He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.  There was something different about you today.  He knew you were dating Gibbs, but he always assumed it wasn’t much of an exciting relationship.  DiNozzo wasn’t always right though.

You strolled past his desk, a cup of coffee in your hand.  It wasn’t yours; you got it for Jethro.  You left a kiss on his cup, placing it on his desk before sitting on the edge of his desk.  You patiently awaited Jethro’s arrival, ignoring Tony’s awestruck gaze.

“Stop staring DiNozzo,” Gibbs ordered as he passed the agent’s desk.  A smirk unfolded on his lips as he approached you.  He gave your lips a quick peck, reaching behind you for the coffee on his desk.  “You look great today [Y/N].”  Gibbs’ voice was low, but you could hear the admiration in his tone.  “I like the red lipstick. Looks good on ya.”

“I was hoping you’d like the new shade of lipstick,” you spoke softly.  “It hasn’t gone unnoticed.”

“We’ll discuss why you can’t wear that to work later,” Gibbs murmured, smirking as he took a sip from his coffee.  

You turned to look over at Tony who had a mortified look on his face.  It was as if he had just imagined what your talk with Gibbs was going to look like.  You hopped off of the Marine’s desk, a small huff of laughter leaving your lips.  

Gibbs got terribly good ideas from the lipstick that you had on your lips.

Tag List: @maybe-mikala@cyrilconnelly@mija-novella@trashforwinchesters@ivvitm1109@saranasai@craylolacrayon@girl-next-door-writes@flufy07@gabriels-trix @becauseflife@the-latina-trickster@moose-on-the-l00se@anamademedoit@theridiculouspanda @captain-amelia-bradley@holding-on-to-francis@massivelyunsteadyposter@haeminhee@lizbeth-loves-bobear@21-wolves@rayleyanns


Warning: Nothing

Word Count: 1400+ (Not my best writing)

Pairing: Draco x reader

Summary: Y/N and Draco like each other 

Requested: Yes

Originally posted by fallingforamalfoy

Your skin tingled where he touched your delicate hand. You looked up quickly at him.  Your heart pounded erratically in your chest, banging against your ribcage. There were butterflies in your chest.

That was the feeling you got the first time he touched you. Of course—it was a complete and utter accident, but he kept his hand on yours and a little longer than he should have. You figured he liked you too. But that’s what everyone with crushes concludes. You just hoped.

At first it was weird, you came into year six with a new mindset. You were somehow thinking about boys, thinking about forbidden ones—Draco Malfoy. Suddenly you were in love with the idea of falling in love. It was unpredictable and crazy, but you liked picking out eye candy around the school. The first time you noticed him was this year. The first time he touched you, that was the first time you looked at him that way.

His eyes weren’t just light blue they had a gray undertone in them and his arms were muscled, just like you had imagined. His smile was the best, even if he smiled the only time he bullied someone.

So there you sat in class looking at the boy you once had hated. Watching as his delicate blonde hairs fell onto his brow, causing him to brush it away. His skin so pale it almost made him look snark against his black suit. His voice angelic in its syntax, probably demonic in its motive, but you didn’t mind. So you gazed at him even more, taking in every feature you could.

He turned around and smirked at your awful attempts to keep your staring hidden. You quickly shot your eyes to the teacher and avoided his gaze. “Don’t act like I didn’t see you staring at me— sweetheart.” You could tell the name felt unusual to him, they way it rolled off his tongue. But yet, he made it work. His whisper was low and husky.

Your eyes flickered to him quickly, hearing what he had just called you. You racked your mind for every lie you could possibly tell him and came up with the most plausible one you could.

“You’re blocking my view.” You told angrily, poking your head to the left so you could see Snape.

“I am the view,” he simpered smugly, but almost as he if he was trying to be seductive. He combed his slender fingers through his blonde hair and searched your eyes. He locked yours with his and winked at you. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, you swiped your tongue over your bottom lip and pulled the pink flesh with your teeth into your mouth.

From the corner of your eye, you say him eyeing you. You returned your gaze onto the parchment and began to write again. You waited for class to end, for the world to swallow you up whole. This was so embarrassing


After class, you began to walk out, but someone caught your arm. You turned back to see Draco holding on to your arm tightly. Almost as if he rehearsed it all before he gently pulled you down the hall to a quiet corner in the hallway.

“Get off of me.” You tried to act as if you weren’t actually turned on from being under his touch. He laughed quietly, releasing you from his touch and turning you towards him. You looked at him and gave a dirty look. He chuckled again, pulling you closer by your house tie. You slapped his hand away and huffed at him.

“I saw you staring at me.” He pointed out as if he got the wrong message from you. “I guess that just reassured me to… to—”

“Yes?” You asked, putting a hand on your hip and pulling your lip into your mouth again. You sunk your teeth into the pink flesh and looked at him annoyed.

“I just wanted to ask you if—,” He trailed off and looked up with a sigh.

“I like Hogsmeade,” You smirked at him shifting on your other foot.

“You like Hogsmeade,” he muttered under his breath, almost as if he was taking a note of what you were saying.

“I also like The Three Broomsticks.” He looked at you and shuffled nervously.

“Tomorrow then,” He smiled at you. “Meet me as soon as everyone leaves.” You grinned at him and began to walk away.. “Is that a yes?” He asked looking at the back of you head. You stopped suddenly and nodded, before scurrying off to your next class.


It was finally Saturday. You felt as if you were on the date of your lifetime. What to wear… what to wear, you thought. You threw open your truck looking for something sexy.  You stopped and sighed. I have to dress casually. Your mind raced. So you slip into a pair of jeans, and slip on a grey tank top, over the white one. You slid your coat onto your shoulders and slipped your arms through the holes. You ran through the doors of your common room and dashed down the hall excitedly.

Draco’s usual slouch had been replaced by a stiff mannequin pose. He realized you would be here any minute. He zipped his coat up higher and rubbed his hands together. He imagined touching your Y/H/C hair as he kissed you, or told you a funny joke and bought you a butterbeer. He knew it was your favorite. And soon you showed up, with the snow slowly melting in your hair. He smiled at you happily, almost thinking you stood him up.

With legs crossed and your coat hanging from the chair, you sat across the table listening to him talk about quidditch. Two butterbeers sat between you both.

“Seems like you really love quidditch,” You smiled at him. He stopped abruptly and picked up his butterbeer. “What about you?” he said taking a sip of the warm, sweet drink.

“I love potions class.” You began, “And Defense Against The Dark Arts.” He looked shocked “I’ve always loved teaching too,” You leaned back in your chair. “Maybe—I don’t know—maybe—I could be a professor, you know?” He nodded eagerly. “I would want to inspire kids, the way the Dumbledore inspire me.” Draco never liked Dumbledore, but you liked him. So instead of grimacing he say there and smiled. Your eyes flickered to his. You suddenly wanted to him—and run your fingers through his hair.

It was almost like a movie, the chick flicks you would watch about the two teenagers that would fall in love in an instant, but that’s how you felt. Not that you were head over heels over him—god no. But he was something.

He pulled you to the back of the building and laughed with you as you chased over the chocolate frog.

“It’s fine Y/N!” He laughed tiredly “I can buy you another one.” You beamed at him. “I could buy you the whole store if you like.” You laughed and pulled him into you. You both stumbled towards the wall, him pushing you up against it.

“Don’t be silly.” But Draco didn’t answer, instead, he moves his head closer to yours. He sits frozen, from both fear and excitement. Before he leans in, so your foreheads rest against each other. You close your eyes. “Thank you,” He says in barely more than a whisper.

“For what?” you reply.

“For being you.” Her voice wavers, exhilarated from the tension between you two. “For being the girl I want to be a better man for.”

You gently lean in and kiss his warm lips. One planted right there—on the spot. You pull apart and take shaky, shallow breaths. Unable to contain yourselves anymore, Draco holds your head in his hands and pulls her into a passionate kiss. You hands work their way around his body, feeling each crevasse, each line along his perfect, lanky physique.

The fresh gray color swirled into an Atlantic blue as you gazed at his eyes. You could feel yourself become hypnotized by the changing colors. He looked into yours—they almost looked like they sparkled.

Draco’s hands venture over your body and pull your small frame closer to his. You pull apart and open your eyes. Draco’s full of wonder and love, yours full of curiosity.

Draco leans in a softly kisses your lips again.

“But just don’t stop being that cheeky bastard in class,” You smiled slightly. “I kinda like that.”

anonymous asked:

“It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself.“ Damian and Jason (about Tim?)

Here you go Anon! Sorry if it’s not exactly what you were looking for - I set out to write a short angsty piece about Damian feeling guilty about how he’d treated Tim but Bruce got there before me and then Damian ended up hiding under a table and it all went downhill from there. But I hope you get some enjoyment form it anyway :)

Mixing up / ignoring comic timeline is almost a hobby of mine, but this one actually had some contextual thought behind it. Not much but. Basically set sometime after Bruce comes back from the “dead” but no more specific than that…

Damian isn’t hiding, but he could see how it may look that way to someone else. Alfred the cat had fled under the dining room table when the yelling started earlier and when he hadn’t been able to coax him out, Damian had crawled under the table as well. Titus had followed him, sniffing at the carpet and knocking into chair legs with his tail before settling down with a huff. It had seemed much easier to just stay there than try to move both his pets.

Dick and Alfred have both walked past - looking for him, maybe, or more likely just going about their day - but nobody has actually come in yet. Father might have thought to look here, but he doubts Father will search for him. Not while he’s still mad, at least. 

“Hey Alfred!” a voice calls from the direction of the front door. The butler’s reply is muffled by distance and then the voices die off as the conversation moves into one of the Manor’s many rooms - probably the kitchen. Damian wonders who it could be; most visitors come via the cave.

He gets his answer a minute later when light footsteps precede the appearance of two socked feet and a pair of jeans in his vision. Todd is muttering to himself as he walks around the dining table then kneels down to start looking under it. The muttering stops when their eyes meet and Damian lifts his chin defiantly, daring the older boy to make fun of him. But all Todd says is, “Have you seen a pair of sunglasses under here?”

Damian glances at the floor around him and shakes his head. “No.”

“Dammit,” Todd mutters, standing up and almost banging his head on the table. 

“Must be in the kitchen…”

He leaves and Damian let’s out a sigh of relief, relaxing back against Titus’s flank. But it’s short-lived because a moment later Todd comes back in and sets something down on the table before crouching back down.

“You wanna come out?” he asks.


“Okay.” His upper body vanishes upward again and when he comes back down he’s holding two mugs. He holds one out. “You want tea?”

Damian hesitates before nodding, reaching out to take the warm mug and cradling it to his chest. Even with the body heat from his pets, it’s remarkably cool under the table. He blows on the hot liquid then takes a cautious sip as Todd sits cross-legged opposite him with his back against the nearest table leg.

“So why are you hiding under a table?” he asks eventually, conversational in a way that grates on Damian’s nerves.

“I’m not hiding,” he snaps.

“Uh-huh. It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself of that.“

“I’m not,” Damian insists. “Alfred wouldn’t come out. I had to come under here to get him.”

Todd looks pointedly at where the cat is now curled up in Damian’s lap, purring softly as he’s petted. “Right. And was it loud noises that drove Alfred under the table?”

Damian narrows his eyes. Todd takes a casual sip of his tea. And he knows. He knows exactly why Alfred ran under the table and why Damian is under the table and he just wants him to say it. Well he’s not going to. Damian grits his teeth and glares.

Todd just shrugs. “Suit yourself. I’ll just tell you what the official version is then, shall I?”

It’s blatant manipulation and Damian will not be swayed by it.

“So I was leaving my apartment this morning when I realised I couldn’t find my sunglasses anywhere. I had tea with Alfred yesterday so this is the only other place I could think they might be. And when I arrive, I find out that you and Bruce got into a screaming match this morning which ended with a broken chair and two smashed vases.” He takes a sip of tea - probably for some kind of dramatic effect. "Apparently you threw a 4,000 dollar vase at Dick’s head when he tried to intervene.“ Damian glowers at his shoes and says nothing. Todd pokes him in the leg. “Come on, short fry, spill.”

It suddenly occurs to Damian that not-hiding under the table was a strategically bad move. He’s trapped between Titus and Todd, without anything throwable within reach. And Todd is as annoyingly stubborn as everyone else in the family; he will not let this go.

“Father says I cannot patrol,” Damian eventually mutters.

“That’s it? You started breaking shit because he benched you? Wow. That’s almost me-level crazy.”

“He says I am banned from the Cave until i can find a way to deal with my anger that does not involve violence.”

The older boy snorts. “I hate to agree with B, but he may have a point. The vases I can understand - Lord knows how many of those have been broken since Bruce started collecting strays - but the chair was a bit of an overreaction.”

Damian can feel the anger from earlier simmering beneath his skin but short of throwing his cat at Todd’s head there’s not much he can do besides growl. “You’re such a hypocrite Todd - you tried to kill him first!”

Todd blinks, face scrunching up in surprise before smoothing out with understanding. “We’re not talking about B anymore, are we? This is about the Replacement.”

Damian looks away. His fingers are clenched so tightly around his mug his knuckles are white and his chest is tight with- anger. That’s what it is. Not guilt or regret or- None of the things Father thinks are affecting him. (Although, to be fair, Father does think anger is affecting him as well. And he may not be wrong but. He’s not completely right.)

“Bruce find out you tried to kill him?”

Todd shifts closer, leaning forward so he can reach behind Damian to scratch Titus around the ears. Their arms brush and Damian holds completely still, watching the older boy warily. He and Todd are not enemies, per se, but this… this friendliness is unchartered territory.

“He wants me to apologise,” he says stiffly.

“And you don’t want to." 

"It would not be sincere.”

Todd’s lips quirk upwards but it doesn’t quite become a smile. “That’s not the point.”

Damian frowns, brows furrowing. “Then what is?”

“To teach you a lesson.” Todd shrugs one shoulder, the simple gesture conveying a lot about what he thinks of Bruce’s parenting techniques. “You don’t want to apologise because it would be humiliating, admitting a fault or a weakness. He makes you do it anyway, makes you suffer the indignity of asking for forgiveness. It’s an unpleasant feeling. One you try to avoid in future by not doing whatever you did wrong again.”

“Oh.” When put like that, it makes much more sense. (Some detective he is if he can’t even figure out his Father’s motives.) “So all I have to do to get Robin back is apologise to Drake?”

“It’s a start.” Todd gives Titus one last pat on the head - and an “accidental” one for Damian as well - then scoots backwards until he’s no longer under the table. “Well, hide and seek has been fun, but unlike some members of this family I’m not freakishly short and my spine is not cut out for this kind of contortion.”

“Tt. You’re getting old, Todd.”

He gets a casual middle finger in response, “Respect your elders, Demon Brat.”
“I’m not a Demon!” Damian snarls.

Todd holds his hands up in mocking surrender. “Of course not, my sincerest apologies.” A quick flash of teeth as he grins. “You wanna repeat that back to me? Y'know, for practice.”

His laughter follows him out of the room as Damian scrambles out from under the table and takes off after him. His Father will surely make him apologies for trying to kill Todd as well, but it will surely be worth it to wipe that smirk off his older brother’s face.

Work In Progress Wednesday

An official title to when I post stuff that I’m currently working on… and maybe the ones that I’ve scrapped and still wanted to share.

“Morning, miss! How can I help you?”

You looked up from your phone to the barista behind the counter, taking note of her large glasses that framed her face nicely, dark hair messily tucked under her hat, and the moth tattoo that peeked from under her sleeves. You pressed your lips together, hoping that she didn’t see the flash of amusement that danced across your eyes when the word hipster popped into your head.

It wasn’t that you were mocking her, no, it was far from it. You were always envious of people like her – the carefree, roll with the punches, and do-what-makes-you-happy sort. Having been raised in a family where financial stability was the top priority, you’ve always felt the firm pressure of being successful. Your parents, both doctors, and your elder brother being a lawyer certainly didn’t help the case.

Instead of learning how to play the piano, you learned French and Spanish. Unlike your peers, your summers didn’t consist of playing by the sea or flying across the globe to explore exotic lands. Your summers were spent volunteering at the hospital where your mother worked, helping patients through the motions of being discharged and cleaning the vacated rooms. When you discovered your penchant of musical theater your sophomore year of high school, you had no choice but to ignore your talents despite your music teacher’s persistence to pursue it.

Everything you’ve done in your life was in preparation for a successful future. Namely, a future where you could hang up your Pharmacist coat and retire in an eerily empty two-story home that lacked the warmth of the people living in it. The thought left a bitter taste in your tongue, knowing that you were well in your way into that path, having received the acceptance letter to Duke University’s Pharmacy program this morning.


You caught the slight nuance in her voice, a small intonation that showed her irritation from your lack of response.

You tucked your phone into your pocket and give her an apologetic smile. “I’d like to get a vanilla latte,” you said and after deciding to splurge, randomly pointed to a pastry in the display, “and one of those too.”

“You got it,” she chirped.

You took a seat at the bar facing the streets, watching as people took hurried steps to reach their destinations. Though the hustle and bustle of New York City was something you’d never get used to, you couldn’t deny how it motivated you. Every single person in the city had dreams that they were passionate about and would do anything to achieve, a group mentality that you clutched in your tired hands and utilized to push through your senior year of college.

You recalled all the moments in your life that lead to this point as you watched a woman push a stroller across the street. You were consumed with pleasing your parents, craving to see the love and approval that never crossed their features even when you told them your decision to apply to Pharmacy school. You treasured them and were grateful for their monetary support, but you couldn’t remember a time where you held a conversation with your mother about boys or where your father gave you a lecture about staying clear of them.

Your body was a tangled mess of emotions, the feelings so intense that you couldn’t distinguish which one was stronger than the other when you saw the acceptance letter. Relief. Panic. Apprehension. Elation. You didn’t question your brash decision to throw on a pair of sneakers and leave your apartment, never mind that your mother would keel over at the sight of you in your pajamas in the city. You needed air, needed a moment to process the implications of what your life would be in the next four years. You lost the notion of time and distance because of your thoughts, and somehow, your feet lead you to the local coffee shop that you were in now.

“A vanilla latte and a blueberry turnover,” the barista hummed as she placed the mug and plate in front of you.

“Thank you,” you replied, disappointed that she had to quickly run back to the counter when the bell attached to the door chimed, signaling the arrival of another customer.

You took a sip of your coffee, sighing in bliss at the comforting taste. You pondered over your choices of delivering the news to your parents while you sipped on your drink, debating whether you should call or send a text. Your parents were always so busy with their careers, and any sort of contact with them was quite rare.

You put the latte down, the usually sweet drink now tasting bitter.

From the corner of your eye, you saw a man slip into a seat in the bar, leaving a chair between you. Oddly enough, he was in his pajamas as well, wearing green flannel pants and a gray sweatshirt. Your lips twitched up in amusement when you spot the leather slip-ons on his feet, the swanky shoes a paradox to his attire.

anonymous asked:

Can you do a cute "Goku cuts Goten's hair and it ends looking like Gine's." Fic?

Author’s Notes: So this is a teenage Goten, which is kinda headcanon based as far as personality goes, but once I have an idea in my head it’s hard to write anything else. I hope the angle I went with here is both cute and maybe a little funny and also sweet, anon.

Characters: Goku, Goten

Word Count: 762

Time Period: Some years after Buu


“You sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Hey, don’t worry,” Goku said with a laugh. “I cut Gohan’s hair when we were training for a year. You’ve seen pictures of that, right?”

With a sigh, Goten had to admit he was right. Gohan’s haircut in those pictures looked perfectly fine. Shaking the feelings of apprehension, Goten sat down in the plastic chair they had pulled outside. Mom didn’t want to deal with any hair mess in the house, and it was a nice enough day to be outdoors anyway. The air was warm but an occasional breeze kept it from being too hot. Squirrels and birds were pretty active, as could be seen when a squirrel ran down the nearby tree and rushed across the grass toward the wildlife beyond.

As he sat down with his dad no doubt grinning behind him, Goten groaned at a thought. “Gohan’s hair is different from mine, though.”

“Oh, I figured,” Goku said. “His grew a lot faster when he was younger.”

“Heh. Yeah,” Goten murmured, setting his hands on his legs. “Not what I meant, though.”

“Huh? It’s not?”

He groaned. Oh, sure, he trusted his dad with the hair clippers. He wouldn’t do anything too crazy. But after living with him for a few years, after becoming a teenager, Goten had realized that sometimes his dad just didn’t get it. Of course, plenty of adults didn’t understand him a lot of the time anyway (and Gohan said it was just part of being a teenager) but still -

“I, uh, don’t really want the same haircut you gave to Gohan or anything like that.”

“Oh, hey, that’s not what I was gonna do anyway,” his dad said, the clippers already moving through Goten’s thick hair. “Your hair is different from Gohan’s. I know. Especially since it started growing beyond looking like mine.”

Goten smiled, scratching at his cheek. “Heh. Yeah. I liked looking like you back then, but I kinda like having my own style now, ya know?”

“Mhmm,” Goku hummed. “I know.”

He closed his eyes, keeping the smile, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his face and the smell of the clear mountain air. Growing up, he’d always liked having his father’s hair. People always commented on it and that wasn’t annoying because they usually only had good things to say. Now that his dad was back from the dead, though, things had changed. Well, he had grown up, too.

Grown up and wanted his own identity. There wasn’t anything wrong with being like his father. His dad was amazing, after all. But there was something nice about being able to have his own look now. Maybe that was part of why he liked having mom make shirts that had his name on them.

Gohan said that was a teenager kinda thing, too. Wanting his own identity like that.


At his father’s comment, Goten froze, trying to glance back over his shoulder. “Oops? Oops, what, Dad?”

“Ah hah. Nothing. It’s okay. I got this. I can fix -”

“Fix what?

“Hey, it’s fine,” Goku reassured, setting a hand on his shoulder. “Just have to try something different, that’s all.”

With a light laugh, Goten forced himself to stay calm. “Dad, you’re scaring me.”

His only response was a laugh. Followed by more of an active sound of clippers cutting his hair. The feel of weight being lifted. Which wasn’t exactly comforting. Sure, Goten’s hair had gotten really long lately, but how much was his dad planning to take off? He’d spent so much time getting it to that length in the first place.

“There,” Goku announced after a moment. “All done. Wanna see?”

Without waiting for the obvious answer, Goku handed Goten a small mirror (one his mother had handed off before they stepped outside). And Goten stared at what he saw, trying to decide what he thought of the new look. Hair was such an important facet of identity, at least from what he knew. Even if the messy spiked look wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind, it still kinda seemed to fit, too.

A glance to his dad’s awaiting posture behind him made Goten deadpan his reaction. “It’s a mess.”

“Heh,” his dad breathed as he put a hand behind his head sheepishly. “It’s a good mess, though, right?”

“Yeah,” Goten nodded and grinned to meet the bright grin from his father. “Thanks, Dad.”

A bright grin that softened only slightly as Goku set his hand on top of Goten’s hand and ruffled the new hairdo. “Anytime.”


[whisper, whisper, support me on Patreon click here, whisper whisper lol]

anonymous asked:

People quite consistently call Jin a pig - literally one of Namjoon's nicknames for him is PigJin. I don't understand why when the rest of the group - all of them. literally - jokingly insult each other based on looks it's totally okay and elicits /no/ comment, yet Jin does it and suddenly it's "disappointing"? They were close friends playing a game, and whatever you say about Jimin being sensitive about his weight, I don't understand what context he would possibly believe Jin was serious.

okay let me preface this by saying that i donโ€™t want to come off as rude or standoffish, answering messages over the internet always puts you in danger of coming off cold so i hope that if you read this, it doesnโ€™t sound that way to you.ย 

Keep reading

Here’s to lesbians that fit the “fat lesbian” stereotype. Who people judge and think you only like women because “you can’t get a man”. Who deal with a lot of internalized homophobia and doubt their attraction because of this. I see your struggle. It’s okay to be a fat lesbian. Your sole love for women is completely valid and lovely. I’m here for you and I love you 💜

'Hook' Actor Launches Kickstarter for Rufio Prequel
The story of Peter Pan has been told many times, but Hook star Dante Basco thinks another Lost Boy should get his chance to shine. The actor, who starred as Rufio in the Steven Spielberg-directed f…

Guys. GUYS, LOOK. 

Our boy, Dante Basco is trying to crowd fund a Rufio prequel and you know what that means: RALLY, TROOPS. OUR PRINCE BECKONS. 

Let’s help bring to life the movie that we always wanted and never dared hoped for. If it were done by anyone else, it’d be whitewashed and made into a mockery of the Lost Boy we all know and love. Dante Basco is going to head this, and you know that he’s going to come through for us.


upforitlouis  asked:

If you're still taking them....12 please love! :)

set at some vague point in the future when aaron is out of prisonย 

things you said when you thought i was asleep

Robert felt the bed dip as Aaron sat down next to him, making to open his eyes and talk to his husband, when Aaron himself spoke.

โ€œIโ€™m sorry, you know.โ€ Aaronโ€™s voice was soft. โ€œIโ€™m sorry for punching Kasim. I know itโ€™s my fault that the first few months of our marriage were so hard, and Iโ€™m sorry.โ€

Robert was tempted to say something, but Aaron was clearly convinced Robert was sleeping.

โ€œI love you so much.โ€ Aaronโ€™s hand was in his hair now, gentle against his head. โ€œMumโ€™s been telling me about everything you did for my lot - our lot - when I was inside. Youโ€™re the most amazing person I know, Robert, Iโ€™m never going to be able to thank you enough.โ€

Aaron let out a little laugh.

โ€œGod knows I should be saying all these things to you when youโ€™re awake, and I will, I promise, itโ€™s just sometimes its easier to say it like this.โ€

Robert was confused.

Did Aaron do this a lot?

โ€œYouโ€™d laugh, if you knew.โ€ Aaron continued. โ€œI only started doing this when I realised what a heavy sleeper you were. Iโ€™m not good with this sort of thing, you know. Itโ€™s like Iโ€™m practising.โ€

Robertโ€™s heart could melt. Aaron talked to him like this, when he was sleeping? Aaron was so much sweeter, so much more romantic than he even realised.

Robert wished he could give his husband the confidence to be able to say these things at a whim, without needing to practise first, but there was something so endearing about the fact that Aaron would do this, that he stayed quiet, keeping his breathing slow and even, waiting for Aaron to continue.

โ€œThinking of the life weโ€™re going to have together got me through being inside.โ€ Aaron said, running his fingers through Robertโ€™s hair. โ€œI told you I loved you so much that I donโ€™t know what to do with it sometimes. I know what to do with it now, Iโ€™m going to be better, for you, for us - for Liv. Iโ€™m going to make sure nothing like the last few months ever happens again, okay? Because I love you, and I want a proper life with you.โ€

Keep reading

slowbro sprite rating

as suggested by @hero-pons


not sure about this sprite, i feel like if you were looking at it w/out knowing what slowbro is you wouldn’t recognize that’s its tail. still cute though. 5/10


this is better. clearer. looks like he just dropped a contact and is bending over to look for it. i hope he finds it! 6/10


he found it! look how happy he is! i love him. 10/10


he dropped it again. 7/10


he’s happy again! he’s so excited to be here. happiness goals tbh?? 10/10


he’s waving hi to you because he’s so glad to see you again! how nice. shellder looks like he’s working through some things but it’ll be okay. 10/10


so cute??? looks like he’s doing a blep. this happy boy brings a smile to my face. 9/10

black/white/black 2/white 2

another happy boy, now wiggling a bit in his excitement. impatience, maybe? either way, i love him. 8/10

xy/omega ruby/alpha sapphire

looks very spaced out, as slowbro tend to be. i support him. please help your local slowbro by reminding them to close their mouths. 7/10

bonus mega slowbro

please help him/10