i don't know i just thought this line was really clever

anonymous asked:

Do you think there is relevance behind there being so many quotes and instances of things hiding in things in season 4? For instance: TST: "Like hiding a tree in a forest" "or blood in a butchers" and then there is the stick drive in the bust. TLD: "You don't build a beach if you want to hide a pebble, you just find a beach" "You want to hide a murder...just find a hospital" and the microphone in John's walking stick.

Hey Nonny!

You know, I never noticed this trend of metaphors and similes and “hiding” until you mentioned it? Mainly because I haven’t watched S4 nearly as much as the rest of the series and don’t have it almost memorized line-for-line. I really don’t know what it could be; Tinhat me is saying that it’s a clue to “hiding in plain site”, as in the real story is hiding in plain site, behind something bigger and more complex. Skeptical me is just saying that Mofftiss liked the use of metaphors in the past, and now they’re just throwing them in to sound clever into a series we’re supposed to take seriously.

Hmm. This is one I might need to ponder on a bit more. Anyone have any thoughts on this? I’m no English major by any means, but I know that metaphors and similes are usually used when trying to convey something deeper. *shrugs*

A Very Happy Unvalentine

by: mldrgrl
Rated: PG
Summary: After the tenth request for a Hank/Stella Valentine’s Day fic, y’all finally wore me down.


Hank knew, as he strolled past the shops with flowers and chocolate in their windows, that none of this would ever fly with Stella.  He wasn’t exactly a fan of Valentine’s Day either, but she viewed it more offensively than he did.  He just thought it was silly and she thought it was more than a little ridiculous.

It wasn’t limited to Valentine’s Day though.  Stella thought most romantic overtures were unnecessary and suspicious.  On the one hand, it certainly kept her in the low maintenance category, but on the other, Hank did have the urge to want to spoil her on occasion.  The last time he’d brought her flowers just for the hell of it they were met with a rather cool reception.  And she even liked flowers, just not as gifts apparently.  Like most things in her life, they served a function.  She bought them weekly to display in a glass vase in the front window, not to sit and admire or appreciate them, but just to decorate with something living that required no maintenance.

He couldn’t help himself, though.  Everywhere he went it seemed he was surrounded by hearts and he wanted to do a little something for her since she’d refused to even let him take her to dinner.  Just as well on that front; most of the nicer restaurants in their neighborhood were booked anyway.

She would be home early that night.  Early by her standards.  Normally, he wouldn’t see her until eight or nine o’clock, but she was prepping for an upcoming trial and her days were being spent in a barristers office and not her own.  Consequently, she was home by six for the last week.

So, Hank kept things low-key for the evening.  He ordered from an Italian place that had a tiramisu she liked and pretended like he just happened to be out and got inspired to pick it up on his way home.  She gave him a suspicious look like she knew exactly what he was doing and couldn’t decide if she wanted to call him out on it or not.  She didn’t say anything, which worked in his favor for the second part of his plan.

After dinner, as per usual, she announced she was headed up to take a shower.  He waved her away and said he’d take care of clean up.  And then he waited.  He waited for the sound of the shower before he crept upstairs and took the small pink giftbag out from his sock drawer.  He’d already snipped the tags off the gift and he transferred the contents from the bag to her lingerie drawer.  The sound of wood scraping against wood was hushed, but still too loud for his liking and he moved as slow as possible to be as quiet as possible.  When he finished, he crept back downstairs and threw the bag away and then added the trash from their dinner over it to conceal as much of the evidence as possible.

The water stopped running not too long after he finished cleaning up the kitchen and he took up a book he’d been meaning to read and settled on the sofa.  He figured it wouldn’t be too long before she either came downstairs or called for him to come upstairs, so he just waited, and read the same page about five times without absorbing any of the text.

When he heard her feet on the stairs, he tried to feign as much interest in the book as possible.  He took a few sideways glances towards the kitchen as she stopped there first to pour herself another glass of wine.  She was wearing a pair of flannel pants and a grey t-shirt, which is not what he expected to see her in, but he didn’t say anything and flipped the page of the book he wasn’t reading.

Eventually, she joined him on the couch and sat with her back to the arm.  He took her feet into his lap and rubbed her toes, still feigning deep interest in his book.

“Good book?” she asked.

“Just getting started,” he answered.

She sipped her wine.  He continued to rub her foot, but he was feeling restless and anxious.  He had to know if she’d looked in her drawer.  She must’ve.  He’d never known her to not wear underwear, which is why he thought his plan was so perfect.

“So, I was upstairs,” she said.

“Umhm…”

“And I noticed that…”

“What did you notice?”

“I think the tub may need to be recaulked.  I might do that this weekend.”

He put his book down and looked at her.  She sipped her wine and peered at him from over the rim of the glass, but he could see just the hint of a smile on her lips.  When she lowered the glass, he took it from her hand and leaned over to set it on the table, where he also tossed his book, and then he leaned over towards her.  Her feet were still in his lap and she flexed her toes against his leg.

One hand went to her hip and he went under the hem of her t-shirt with his thumb.  He rubbed the soft skin of her belly a few times and then pulled at the elastic waistband of her pants.  He could see just the barest hint of the red lace he’d so carefully picked out in the shop.

“Tell me, Hank,” she said, as he drew a line across the lace edge with the tip of his finger.  “Was this a gift for me or for you?”

“Me,” he answered.  “You just happen to be the package it comes in.”

“You think you’re clever, don’t you?”

“I do.”  He nodded.  “You never said anything about not getting myself something for the occasion.  Just you.  And, I mean, there were all these sales and I just thought, why not take advantage of a really good bargain.”

“Hmm…”  

She pushed him away at the chest and then swung her legs off his lap.  Before she walked away, she picked up her wine and took another sip.  There was a definite sway in her hips as she made her way towards the stairs.  She stopped on the first step and looked back at him.

“Well,” she said.  “Aren’t you coming up to unwrap your package?”

The End

anonymous asked:

Hi Emma. I have to give a memorized oration in a week about something I'm passionate about. But I'm terrified beyond what is normal. How can I get over my anxiety?? Another question is: Would it be bad to talk about myself? I just want ppl to understand me, but Ive led a boring life.. Please help, I don't know what to do... And I'm sorry if this is an inconvenience. <3

Hi! I think being passionate about the topic is a great start. Since you clearly know about the topic and are going to have a clear opinion, it will be much easier for you I think. Here are a couple of things you can try:

  • be super prepared - the more prepared you are the more confidence you should have! If you’re able to memorise your speech, your chance of making mistakes will hopefully be minimised! Like I said, since you’re passionate about the topic you might find it alot more comfortable to discuss.
  • try to settle any nerves - speeches are sometimes really scary. For me, I’ve always struggled. But it is important to remember that no one (besides your teacher) really cares. Everyone is just doing it because they have too. They’re probably too busy on their phones or thinking about their own speech to be really listening to yours. If you make a mistake, take a breath and continue. Perhaps try listening to music before your class!
  • use a powerpoint - if you can this is a great way to take the eyes off you and focus them elsewhere!
  • change the colour of the font every four lines - I saw this on Pinterest and thought it was a clever idea. It can keep you on the right line so you don’t reread something or lose your place.
  • take deep breaths - remember to breathe deeply and slowly. If you’re beginning to feel nervous, inhale for three seconds and exhale for three.
  • try to speak slow - it can be super difficult when you’re nervous but that is what is going to trip you up. Take it slow and steady.
  • remember that whilst people are wanting you to succeed they probably aren’t paying much attention - speeches are generally a free class. Most people zone out and aren’t really fully listening. Once I swore by accident in a speech and the only person that noticed was the teacher. Luckily he laughed, but no one else was even listening.
  • pick a spot on the floor and try to stick around there - try not to be too rigid! Move round slightly and look up towards the back of the room every now and then. If you’re looking confident, you will probably be awarded a few extra points. Remember “fake it till you make it!”
  • finish strongly - try to avoid standing there at the end and whispering “I’m done”. Say thank you and sit back down! Be strong! Remember once you walk away, most people will forget your speech!

Hopefully this helps! x

An alternative to Bitty being completely oblivious to Jack’s feelings

Bitty is a gay man in a collegiate sport who grew up in the Deep South. He is Aware™ of himself at all times, even if he doesn’t talk about it on his vlog. He probably knows that although he is accepted now, if he crosses an invisible line of physical/emotional affection with some of the guys that acceptance can disappear in an instant. We can speculate on the sexuality of the other guys, but none of them are open in the way Bitty is, so he has to operate on different rules than the other guys.

We know, canonically, that he is mostly exempt from rough-housing. This isn’t because he’s smaller, it’s because he’s gay. Rough-housing is toeing that line and Bitty would probably be careful to exclude himself whenever possible. The other guys probably exclude him with the excuse that he’s small, but there’s a layer underneath that they would never acknowledge. This is the sort of thing that even really supportive straight friends do, often unconsciously. It’s part of the “unwritten rules”.

So, back to Jack. We’re shown the two of them getting increasingly touchy in the background of several panels Year 2. We’re shown through Bitty’s twitter that Jack seeks him out, incessantly chirps him (which by Bitty’s own admission, is a variation on flirting), and starts to include Bitty in the rough-housing. Bitty overheard the conversation with Parse and heard Parse interrupt Jack with what was probably a kiss. Bitty can connect those dots - he’s not dumb. The thing is - he’s also never going to bring it up, because Bitty understands living in the closet and how scary it is. He also understands that Jack’s future is on the line. Jack already has so much stacked against him - the overdose, the crazy expectations, his own crippling anxiety - and Bitty surmises that Jack can’t also live with his sexuality out in the open too. So, he lets Jack get closer, orbiting him, but never, ever pushes him or even hints that he knows. It’s a secret and Bitty isn’t going to violate that.

Instead, he just cherishes the moments he gets. He catalogs them carefully, even though it probably really hurts. The guy he has an outsize crush on keeps seeking him out and sitting too close to him and giving him piggyback rides and lending him his jacket. Bitty knows that this is outside the bounds of his other friendships. He knows that Jack is crossing the line and he lets him, instead of closing himself off and not allowing it like he might have with the other boys. He just shakes his head and says this boy.

What I’m getting at here is that Bitty might have known, or at least strongly suspected, that Jack had non-friend feelings for him. However, he also probably thought that Jack didn’t think they were important or big enough feelings to actually act on. That’s why we find Bitty literally sobbing in Jack’s room after graduation because Bitty thinks that it’s the absolute end of the road for them and even the casual flirtation will be gone as soon as he boards that plane to Georgia in a few hours. Jack is moving on to Providence and the NHL and Jack isn’t going to take the risk on his future. Bitty wasn’t expecting Jack to kiss him, but not because Bitty was oblivious to Jack’s feelings. He doesn’t expect the kiss because he has convinced himself that Jack does feel something for him, but not strongly enough to actually pursue it.

ETA: now in 5k-word fic format, for your angsty needs

Okay so, I found this old Fluri fanfic in my GoogleDrive. It’s unfinished and unedited in any form, but I can’t actually remember the ending I was going for or how I intended to complete this story. Apparently it was started almost a year ago, so at this point I doubt the full idea will come back to me. I figured I might as well just throw this half-finished dork-fest out for everyone to enjoy. 

@suguelya - I am tagging you because I tag you in all my Fluri silliness and idk but feel free to laugh and judge this. 

Excerpt:

“Then let’s begin. Mister Lowell, you–”

“Formalities? Really? You sound like Cumore.”

Professor Cumore.”

“Yeah, yeah. Professor Hearts and Tightpants. Whatever. If you keep up that mister stuff I won’t–”

“Yuri.”

“Yeah?”

“Will you please tell me what sort of havoc you brought upon the school today?”

“Just today?”

“Yuri.”

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under ground

pairing: blaise zabini x ron weasley

setting: modern, non-magical, college au

word count: 804

written for: @icanhelpyouthere + @themalfoymanner + @hexmionegranger + @hermionvgranger + whoever else asked idk


It starts with a secret.


“The fuck are you doing here?” Ron Weasley demands, just as Blaise enters the locker room.

Blaise arches a brow, but otherwise doesn’t bother to respond. Ron Weasley is irrelevant. The contents of Draco Malfoy’s gym bag, however, are not.

“Hey, man,” Weasley goes on, undeterred. “I asked you a question.”

Blaise glances at an unmarked orange pharmacy bottle sitting on the middle shelf of Weasley’s locker. Fucking idiot. Fucking amateur. “That doesn’t entitle you to an answer, though, does it?”

Weasley narrows his eyes. “What are you—that’s Malfoy’s bag,” he blurts out, sounding surprised. “What are you doing to Malfoy’s bag?”

Blaise rifles around, tossing aside a few of Malfoy’s extra shirts and a monogrammed grey hand towel before coming up empty. He frowns. “Taking back what’s mine.”

Weasley snorts, and then rakes his fingers through the sweaty red fringe of his hair. “Jesus, dude, do you have to make everything sound like a threat?”

Blaise inspects the peeling blue label on a tub of IcyHot, irritation beginning to lick like fire against the tops of his tonsils. Malfoy wasn’t this clever. He fucking couldn’t be. “Dunno,” he muses, flatly. “Do you have to make everything sound like a deleted scene from Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure?

Weasley huffs at that, audibly dismissive, before turning towards his locker and reaching an arm back to lift his practice jersey over his head.

And Blaise.

Blaise is suddenly paying only very minimal attention to the gum wrapper and Dorito crumb and parking ticket detritus at the bottom of Malfoy’s bag. The fucking little black book could wait. Because Weasley

Weasley is tall, obviously, tall and broad shouldered and long limbed; more lanky than he is anything else. But there’s a promising sort of elegance, almost, to how he’s put together. Big hands and strong forearms and an unexpected layer of muscle bunching around his biceps, cording up and down his neck, stretching and flexing and pulling beneath the freckled skin of his upper back as he shifts around, searching for a shirt.

And Blaise.

Blaise appreciates pretty things. His apartment is monochromatic, a perfectly contemporary celebration of sleek lines with shiny finishes, and he’s no stranger to sacrificing basic functionality for aesthetic appeal. And while Weasley might not be particularly refined, he is, Blaise thinks with some confusion—with some interest, really, lazy and muted and soft—he is most certainly a pretty thing.

“What?” Weasley snaps, glaring at Blaise with thinly veiled suspicion.

Blaise toys with the zipper on the inside pocket of Malfoy’s bag. “What do you mean, what?

Weasley hunches forward slightly, crossing his arms over his still-bare chest. A decidedly rosy flush is starting to creep across his face. “You’re—fucking staring at me, man.”

Blaise smirks. “Am I?”

“See—that, that definitely sounded like a fucking threat. What’s your problem? You look like you’re—like you’re plotting something.”

Blaise shrugs, and then chuckles, unable to stop himself from letting his gaze linger—impulsively, pointedly, heatedly—on Weasley’s exposed skin. Shoulders. Abdomen. No. Lower. Blaise is plotting something, of course. Weasley’s locker is two down from Malfoy’s, and that might just be better than a surveillance camera.

“You think Malfoy’s a douche, right?” Blaise asks, as conversationally as he can manage.

Weasley rocks back on his heels, basketball shorts slung low across his hips. “Doesn’t everyone?” he sneers.

Blaise licks his lips. Weasley watches him. “Want to help me out with something, Weasley?”

Unbidden, Weasley’s eyes drop to Blaise’s crotch. He looks stunned, and not a little dazed. “Um. What?”

“Not that,” Blaise lies, and then pauses. “Well. Not unless you really want to.”

Weasley clears his throat, expression hovering somewhere on the knife-edge between uncomfortable and intrigued. He appears helpless. Focused. Sharper than he usually is. Blaise can’t believe it took him so long to notice this. To notice him.

“What?” Weasley says again, more quietly.

“You know what I do, right?” Blaise drawls, taking a step forward. Leaning into the solid cold metal of the locker directly in front of Weasley’s.

There’s a beat of silence. It’s tense, like a wire trap coiled tight. Expectant. “Yeah.”

“Then you can imagine how…valuable…a list of my customers would be. Past and present.”

Weasley’s tongue darts out, wetting his lower lip. Blaise’s gut clenches. No. Simmers. “That’s what Malfoy’s got? A list?

The list,” Blaise corrects.

“Right. That.”

Blaise chooses not to speak for a minute—just lets his mouth fall open and his posture relax as he makes a show of inspecting Weasley. Of studying him. “You’ll let me know if you see anything,” Blaise murmurs, flashing a smile he’s surprised to realize he almost means. “Won’t you?”

Weasley blinks.

Blaise doesn’t.


It starts with a secret.

Blaise has always liked secrets.      


New Constellations

[AO3] [FF.net]

So, anybody want 2500 words of pretty much solid plotless Hiccstrid smut? 

Trick question, of course you do. So here you go. It technically takes place during RTTE, but there are no real spoilers. Also I have no idea what this is beyond just like…PWP, basically. Semi-inspired by listening to New Constellations by Ryn Weaver on repeat and thinking about how much it reminds me of restless late-teens Hiccup. Also I’m putting the whole thing under the read more cut because it’s smutty right out of the gate soooo

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tinaysabella  asked:

Hello! I completely agree with how you feel about Viggo. I love the guy. The moment he spoke, it just took me away, ya know? He's so.. I'm not sure if poetic is the right word but I love that he uses metaphors from time to time. I really love that guy.. I don't think I got to see a villain like that in rtte/rob/dob that spouts eloquent and beautiful words like Viggo.. He's just... awesome.

The dialogue in RTTE S2 was downright incredible in every sense of the word. The banter was hysterical, the jokes clever and hilarious, the emotional revelations deep… and then… there’s Viggo.

Viggo Grimborn’s character introduction has to be the best villain character introductions I have seen in all of the DreamWorks HTTYD franchise, hands down, no contest. Throughout the entire season, the writers build up suspense of who he is. Viggo is known about through hearsay alone, but he’s incredibly challenging to reach, and he’s apparently someone no one messes with EVER. I know this idea was planned with Drago Bludvist in HTTYD 2, but Dean DeBlois himself I believe has admitted they’d change a few things. With Viggo, though, the suspense of seeing this villain was perfectly executed.

The payoff waiting an entire season to see this man was well-worth the wait. When we hear his first words, we form our first impressions of who he is: and his first words make an incredible impact. His words aren’t the typical aggressive blood lusting growl we’re accustomed to in the HTTYD villain pantheon, but instead incredibly smooth - poetic, as you say. 

I like that word a lot for his speech - poetic. Viggo’s words are poetic in many ways, from being very metaphorical and deep, to being eloquent and fluid, to being so exquisitely produced that few human beings would ever be able to master their tongues in such a form for day-to-day speech. However, while his speech is dramatically fluent, it also feels… very natural. This poeticism actually is a part of who he is. 

Beyond the delivery of Viggo’s speech, there’s the content. There’s a LOT of content in his words, so much that it almost rolls over your head even as you’re trying to concentrate on his thoughts and follow his rationality.

“They say there’s two ways to be fooled: one is to believe what isn’t true, the other is to refuse to believe what is. Maces and Talons. I began playing with my grandfather when I was just a boy. I always insisted upon being the honorable Viking chief. I could never understand how he bested me time and time again. For years I assumed his skill transcended mine. I believed what wasn’t true. But you see, in Maces and Talons, as in life, the line between good and evil is often unclear. Black and white can become gray so easily. What one soul considers evil another might consider righteous. The honorable chief who fails to see this is found to be the fool.”

HOLY. MOTHER. OF. THOR.

He also does this on top of tapping a lantern and making it swing. Why is this significant? Because on top of making one metaphor about the game Maces and Talons, he’s bringing visual symbolism into the mix. When the lantern swings, it bathes Viggo’s face in light, then darkness, light, then darkness. He’s talking about moral ambiguity at this point, and how the world is seldom black or white. We use the word “black” to mean “evil,” and “white” to mean “good.” We also use “light” and “dark” to mean good and evil, too. So what’s he doing? Showing how he walks in a combination of lightness and darkness, or in a world where morality is ambiguous.

Viggo isn’t an emotional brute, but a thoughtful, well-spoken, manipulating mastermind. And in this opening monologue, he seamlessly gives a personal statement of who he is, what he’s about, why he’s formidable, and how he thinks. Instead of stepping out to greet his brother or introduce himself formally to Dagur and Heather, he intimidates them by coolly, collectedly, and somewhat cryptically talking about issues of knowledge and morality. He demonstrates that he can outplay them all and that he has no qualms being that morally gray character who makes anyone else set in their thoughts (”the honorable Viking chief”) a fool.

It’s a really incredible way of him telling them that they’re fools compared to him because they are not as enlightened and strategic as he is.

Viggo provides something to the DreamWorks HTTYD world we’ve never really had in a villain before. Actually, I’ll say he provides three things:

  • He is a character who drastically outsmarts Hiccup. Hiccup has confronted some villains who are smart and have outsmarted him. Alvin the Treacherous tricks Hiccup twice in a row during “We Are Family” Parts 1 and 2. Dagur manages to sneak around Hiccup several times, too, including earlier in this season of RTTE. But no one has really outmanipulated Hiccup to this extent. Hiccup cannot use his typical arsenal of tools to overcome this enemy, for this enemy would use all of that easily, effortlessly against him. Hiccup’s past enemies might have outsmarted Hiccup once in a while, but they never played with him like a cat with its prey.
  • Viggo is not a stereotypical “evil” villain. Good versus evil has been pretty stark in the HTTYD world, both for the books and movies. Gray characters are very rare. Snotlout in the books has a bit of grayness to him, but the way his story ends makes his allegiance and alignment clear. Heather is the first real gray character in the DreamWorks world, and she is acting as a somewhat-shady protagonist. Viggo, however, is a villain who calls himself gray, remarking, “what one soul considers evil another might consider righteous.” He’s a bad guy Hiccup needs to fight, yes, and he does a lot of awful things, yes, but he helps blur the line between good and evil with his fascinating arguments.
  • Viggo provides philosophical argumentation for his position. In the books, all of Hiccup’s enemies back up their desires on ideas like power and genocide. In the television series, Alvin and Dagur have followed a route of revenge and conquest. But Viggo’s argument is more subtle, philosophical, deep, and twisting. He points out the weaknesses of people like Hiccup who act like the honorable chief… and the thing is, Viggo actually makes a good case. A bad guy has never had a convincing platform like that EVER in ALL of How to Train Your Dragon. For that matter, how often have you seen a HTTYD villain so calm and collected all the time? Like, never.

I gravitate to many of the villains in this fandom. Norbert the Nutjob’s quirks are endearing. Excellinor the Witch is frightful as Helheim. Drago Bludvist’s combination of physical and psychological force makes him formidable. Hroar manages to be Hiccup’s Outcast foil, with all the natural dragon talent Berk’s hero has… but all the opposite intentions. Yet I have a feeling Viggo is quickly going to become one of my favorites of all favorites. I’ve needed a villain like this for so long. So, so long. Like, I’m with you. There’s been no one like him in all of How to Train Your Dragon. Which makes him downright awesome

BSD Novel: Dazai Osamu and the Dark Era (Chapter 2, Part 2)

Here we go! As usual, please let me know if anything seems wrong to you. And as always, thank you to double kat @nakaharachuyaa and @mlntyoonqi. Scan by @akutagawaprize (all scans here)

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anonymous asked:

So there was an elevator prompt I saw where someone A notices how hot B is and is telling their friend on the phone cause they don't think B speaks English imagine ronan speaking latin and adam can understand EVERYTHING

tHIS IS SO LATE im sorry anon but this prompt is a+ and i kinda tweaked it but it’s still kinda relevant to the original prompt so worry not


Adam doesn’t miss much.

He never really meant to be overly perceptive of things, but at this point it came to him as a second nature, a sort of skill he had been forced to hone in his childhood years. Although, the honing was often due to a knack of figuring out the complexities of his father’s vicious mood swings, so he never expected it to lead to noticing that the guy beside him in the small, creaky elevator had a near-death grip on the scowling toddler beside him, the vein practically jutting out of his neck giving away his tenseness from an otherwise cool expression.

Adam tried to keep his eyes firmly on the glowing numbers at the top, tried to focus on the shitty-but-catchy music playing softly in the background.

But in all honesty, what’s the point in distraction when distraction personified was standing not even a foot away?

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anonymous asked:

I saw a post the other day that said people seem to forget this: and then quoted "Zayn": "There’s no secret relationships going on with any of the band members" and I was thinking: People really seem to forget (or didn't really ever recognize) the ‘I won't mind’ lyrics. I know it's kind of an old topic but I think about this song so much! It's so beautiful and so telling and so obvious! But so many people don't see it. And I don't know it just baffles me so much... (1)

I mean he says he loves this person (“Don’t look around cause love is blind, and darling right now I can’t see you”) and that they are committed to each other (“we found the one thing we said we could never ever live without“) but it’s something hidden/secret (“we are who we are when no one’s watching“) and he’s “not allowed to talk about it”!!!… What or who else could this be about!? (2)

And the song had to be “leaked” with the words “Let the music do the talking” so Zayn definitely wanted to get the message out there… I think songs/lyrics are more truthful than interviews… and I think Zayns lyrics tell so much! I really really liked your analysis of the Mind of Mine lyrics! But I couldn’t find anything about I won’t mind… And I want to know what you think about that song and the lyrics? Or If you have made any posts about it could you please link me? Thank you:)) (3)


Hello!  The funny thing is that when I was done listening to Mind of Mine, my first thought was, “My favorite of Zayn’s solo music is still I Won’t Mind”.  The remix that Eminik made is really good, so I listen to that a lot on my mp3.

I’m not sure that it was leaked by Zayn exactly.  I think the Twitter fight between Naughty Boy and Louis was set up in order to draw attention to the drop and since that fed into the Zayn vs OT4 narrative and eventually the Zayn vs Naughty Boy fight, it was part of the official narrative.  

It was an official release framed as a leak.  They needed something to legitimize Zayn as a solo artist and put distance between him and One Direction in the public eye since his actual music wouldn’t be released for almost a year.

There are many ways for songs to be interpreted, but some are more direct and detailed than others.  The more details a song has, the harder it is to make multiple interpretations fit it.  I think “I Won’t Mind” is probably somewhere in the middle range.

I did a full interpretation below the cut XD

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Painfully Honest Advice for the Signs
  • : check your moon too!!!:
  • Aries: you're not always gonna be the best at everything, and that's okay. Take it easy on yourself. If you push yourself too far, you'll lose everything. On the flipside, maybe you're an Aries who needs to care MORE. Are you channeling your drive and determination in a productive way?
  • Taurus: Hey man. I love you. But you've got a lot of shit to sort through in that monstrous head of yours. Don't be afraid to open up to your friends, they know how gentle your heart really is, and they can help you. You can let your walls down a bit.
  • Gemini: You don't have to be constantly living up to everyone's expectations. Find yourself, and find people that celebrate yourself.
  • Cancer: Don't let people tell you that your emotions make you weak. Hell, you're stronger than most people that I know. Keep your head up, kiddo.
  • Leo: You were born to rule, and don't you forget that. But you were also born with an ego that needs reining in at times. Be gentle with your subjects, and don't take them for granted.
  • Virgo: I know that you fear conflict, and that can be a smart thing; but then again, you ARE very clever, aren't you? But you need to understand that you can't play it neutral all the time. Grow a backbone, you might need it someday.
  • Libra: You seek out people in positions of power, and you simper beneath them, like a dog. Maybe it's your desire for a "worthy" companion, or maybe you just want to be next in line. Well, you're not a dog. Learn to find your own way to the top.
  • Scorpio: Quit pretending to be such a bad bitch all the time, because you're not. Quit romanticizing shitty things, because it doesn't make you cool. Quit being an asshole to people who would bend over backwards to you, in the name of being "fierce". Quit lying to hide your insecurities. Sexy ruler of darkness? No, you're not even a scorpion, you're a beetle wearing a paper mâché stinger.
  • Sagittarius: Not everyone can keep up with your wanderlust, or understand your humour, or will forgive you for your blunt words. So, you must find those who do. You'll be hard-pressed to find these soul-friends, and you may have to look far, but you'll find them, and they will treasure you like you never thought you deserved.
  • Capricorn: You cannot keep every aspect of your life under lock and key. You must not be possessive over those you love; let them roam free. You're not going to be able to manage everything on a system of pulleys and strings-- and you can't stay guarded forever, so just open up and breathe. Take a risk, take a chance, push yourself but keep your head.
  • Aquarius: Hey babe. I know you feel like you don't belong here sometimes, and you may even have tried to escape a time or two. But I know, like Sagittarius, that you must find your own field of stars to complete you. You don't have to have your feet on the ground, but remember that it can be good to have a toe or two tied to "the real world".
  • Pisces: Who ever told you that you're the depressing blogger aesthetic of bloody sinks and nicotine-stained fingers? You're not a cigarette or a suicide note in thin pale hands. You're so much more than that. So much better than that. But you've also got a ton of feelings going on at any given time, and they're liable to change. Learn to ride your own waves before you accidentally drown other people in them.
hummingbird heartbeat - pt20

( missed the beginning? read it on AO3! )

Bitty switched his phone back on as soon as the plane landed in Boston. He had a bunch of text messages, six Twitter notifications, and one Snapchat. He opened the snap first, smiling softly. It was Kent, curled up in bed with Señor Bun. He was shirtless and he’d turned his face just so to hide his bloody eye, and he still looked tired, but he was beautiful all the same. Across the bottom of the picture he’d written I miss you already.

Smiling softly, Bitty sent a quick snap back, writing I miss you, too along the top. He checked Twitter, frowning when he saw activity on Kent’s account. He was supposed to be resting!

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anonymous asked:

How about some good old fashioned Jamie/Claire smut? I don't really have a specific prompt, just in the mood for a little romp in the hay.

Outlander, Chapter 17, Pgs 206-207

He reached out and touched my lower lip, barely brushing the edge.  “It starts out the same, but then, after a moment,” he said, speaking softly, “suddenly it’s as though I’ve a living flame in my arms.”  His touch grew firmer, outlining my lips and caressing the line of my jaw.  “And I want only to throw myself into it and be consumed.

I thought of telling him that his own touch seared my skin and filled my veins with fire.  But I was already alight and glowing like a brand.  I closed my eyes and felt the kindling touch move to cheek and temple, ear and neck, and shuddered as his hands dropped to my waist and drew me close.

I gasped as he kissed me.  For all I seemed to be glowing, still he blazed and burned me.  In some dim recess of my mind, I thought I should check that his touch did not blister me, but in the moment all I could thing of was having his hands on me again.

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  • HEY I WROTE THIS REALLY LONG DRABBLE BASED ON A HEADCANON FROM http: //untildawnff.tumblr.com/ AND I WAS GIVEN PERMISSION TO POST IT BUT CREDIT TO THEM FOR THE IDEA OKAY THANK YOU.
  • ()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()
  • Sam
  • "So how are you and your boyfriend, Sam?" my mom asked on the other line of the phone. I rolled my eyes and inter ally sighed. I didn't actually have a boyfriend. But my, god was my mother getting annoying asking me when I'd get a boyfriend and bring him over. So I lied and said I did have one. Didn't even give her a name or anything. And somehow, she, and everyone else believed me. And it's been going for about two and a half weeks now.
  • "We're fine, mom." I sighed into the phone. My mom clicked.
  • "You don't sound fine." She inferred. Act in love, Sam.
  • "We are, don't worry, I'm just really tired." I reassured. She stayed silent for a moment.
  • "Okay... How about you two come over for dinner on Friday?" She asked. That caught me off guard. I moved out of my parents house a few months ago, since I was 18 and had enough money saved up. So I lived in an apartment building across town.
  • "Uhhh..." I pulled my phone away from my face to check what day it was. Wednesday. I haven't seen my parents or my brother and sister in almost a month. I couldn't say no.
  • "... sure..." I replied dully. She giggled.
  • "Great! I can't wait to meet this guy. I'm sure you got your paws on one handsome devil! Come around six?" She finished. My mouth ran dry. What the fuck was I gonna do? I couldn't come up with a clever break-up story in three days. Maybe I should tell them he died in some ridiculous way. That'd be kind of funny. But not believable. I guess I just had to go with it. I sighed.
  • "Yeah, I guess." I huffed. My mom giggled.
  • "Yay! Okay, I love you, baby! I'll see you then." She concluded before hanging up. I ended the call and threw my phone on the couch. Fuuuuuuck.
  • I thought for a long while and what the hell I was gonna tell my parents. I did NOT wanna tell them the truth and have them nag, nag, nag me about it. But what could I do? I thought for a while more before it came to me. I could have someone pretend to be my boyfriend for the night. I thought about my options. Right away, Mike and Matt were off the table. They were in the middle of some ridiculous love triangle with Emily. Chris wasn't exactly an option either. He and Ashley had something. I don't know what it is, but it's something. And the way Chris takes things, he'd get the wrong idea. So that only left one other person.. Josh. It's not that I didn't like Josh, because I did, I was closer to him then anyone else. But the thought of asking him to pretend to be my boyfriend for a night was a little weird. But what else could I do. I sighed and pulled out my phone and texted Josh.
  • 'I'm coming over.' I texted.
  • 'Ummm?? Ok but no ones here'
  • 'That's fine. Hahahaha I need a favor.'
  • 'Oh god. Should I be scared?'
  • 'Uh, maybe?'
  • ' jesus Sam'
  • 'Be there in like ten minutes.'
  • 'You suck'
  • I laughed and closed my phone, not responding. I gathered my stuff and headed to Josh's house. This was gonna be an interesting conversation.
  • ()()()()()()()()()()()()
  • I approached Josh's house and groaned. I was already regretting it. But it was too late now. This was a better idea then any of the others I came up with. I walked up to the door and knocked.
  • "Helloooo? Josh?" I yelled. Nothing. I turned the handle of the door out of curiosity and sure enough, it was open. I walked in slowly, closing the door behind me.
  • "Josh?" I called again. Still nothing. I walked into the living room and sat my bag down. I've done this before and usually Josh is just in the bathroom or getting out of the shower or something. I stood and waited. For a lot longer then I wanted to. I pulled out my phone text him. Suddenly, a pair of hands jabbed my sides and a yelled in my ear. I knew damn well who it was but I still screamed and dropped my phone. I whirled around and go figure, there was Josh, giggling like an idiot. I flushed. I didn't like when people grabbed my sides.
  • "Josh!" I growled, slapping his arm as he laughed at my minor shame.
  • "Hey, lame-o, what's up?" He chuckled. I rolled my eyes, remembering this awkward talk I was about to have. I sighed.
  • "Hey, is everything okay?" He asked, his smile slowly dying away.
  • "Uhhh, okay. So remember my parents?" I asked. He nodded.
  • "Remember that thing I told them? That was actually true a few weeks ago?" I continued. He raised an eyebrow.
  • "Yeeaaaahhh..? The one where you told them you have a boyfriend when you very well do not?" He said, a ghost of a smile on his face. I nodded.
  • "Yeah, well, they wanna meet said boyfriend on Friday at their house for dinner, and I can't get out of it." I went on. Josh simply blinked.
  • "And... I need someone to pretend to be my boyfriend for the night." I finished, smiling a little too innocently. Josh was unresponsive for a moment before he ultimately burst into laughter. I stared at him as he laughed.
  • "Okay, okay, lemme get that straight. You want me to be your boyfriend for the night?" He repeated. I looked at the floor. Hearing it out of someone else, it sounded ridiculous.
  • "Yeeees..." I groaned. I didn't look at him.
  • "Okay." He said casually. I snapped my head up.
  • "What?" I asked, kind of skeptical that he agreed to this. Let alone as casually as he did.
  • "I said okay. I'll pretend to be your boyfriend so you don't have to deal with the wrath of your parents." He said clearly. Thank. God. I huffed.
  • "Thank you!" I groaned.
  • "No problem, babe." Josh said, winking at me. I blushed.
  • "No! Don't call me that." I stammered. He noticed my demeanor and snickered.
  • "Sorry, dear." He smirked.
  • "Stoooop! I'm going home, Josh." I growled.
  • "Whatever you say, baby." He continued. It was really weird coming from him.
  • "Goodbye! Josh!" I screeched, walking out the door.
  • "I LOVE YOU, BABYYYY!" He yelled after me.
  • "Baaaaaaaaaah!" I yelled back as I walked out of his yard.
  • "I will see you Friday at 5!" I yelled as I walked away. This was gonna be a looooong Friday.
  • ()()()()()()()()()()()()()
  • Friday came a lot faster then I wanted it to and I dreaded it a lot. This was gonna be super weird. I mean, even if I was bringing my family an ACTUAL boyfriend, it would be weird. But it was going to be even weirder because I wasn't bringing them a boyfriend. I was bringing them a Josh. Good thing Josh has never met my parents before. A beep outside distracted me from my dreading. It was Josh. I took a deep breath and made my way out into the Fall outdoors. There was Josh outside my Apartment building in his stupid little car with a stupid little smile on his stupid little face. I wordlessly got into the passenger seat.
  • "Hey, you look nice." He complimented. I snorted. I really didn't. I'd usually dress a little better to go see my parents. But I didn't totally bum it. I could tell Josh had literally JUST got out of the shower because his hair was still a little wet and his entire car smelled like Axe.
  • "Are you seriously okay? I can pretend to be sick and you can tell your mom I have malaria." He suggested. I laughed, remembering that I actually considered telling my parents my boyfriend died.
  • "It's okay. I'm okay." I assured, nodding my head.
  • "Promise?" He asked, offering his pinky. I wrapped my pinky around his and squeezed.
  • "Promise." I repeated. He smiled.
  • "Okay." He said quietly before starting his car and setting off to my parents house.
  • "So, how should I act? What should I do?" He asked, sounding almost nervous. I raised an eyebrow. What did he have to be nervous about?
  • "Uhhh.. Just be you. We're gonna have to hold hands and whatnot but just be yourself." I shrugged. He nodded.
  • He opened his mouth to say something but closed it.
  • "What?" I asked. His face slowly got red and he shook his head.
  • "Nothing." He mumbled. I tilted my head. I've never see Josh like this. Josh was almost always goofy. Kind of cocky. Never did I ever see him nervous, this was kind of unlike him.
  • "What are you all nervous about?" I asked out of curiosity. He shook his head.
  • "I don't know...." he said, giving me a weird look. I dropped the subject as we pulled up in front of my parents house. I exhaled deeply.
  • Josh parked and looked at me.
  • "You ready?" He asked, his face suddenly eager. I rolled my eyes. Not really. But there was no turning back. I sighed and nodded my head.
  • "Yeah, let's go." I mumbled, getting out of the car. My stomach was in knots. I didn't really care if they didn't like him or not... Okay, I did, but that wasn't my main concern. My main concern was that now my parents will now forever think of Josh Washington as my boyfriend. And that was really weird to me. Josh waited for me and once I caught up to him he gave me one last look as to say "are you sure you're sure?" I nodded my head and walked up to the door, knocking gracefully.
  • "Don't be nervous." He whispered quickly, just before the door opened and my smiling mother appeared.
  • "Sammy-bear!" She squeaked before hugging me tightly.
  • "Hi, mom." I giggled. I was happy to see her after almost a month. I needed this. She eyed Josh for a moment.
  • "Is the boyfriend I've heard next to nothing about?" My mom asked. I was kind of flustered.
  • "Uh, yes! Mom, this is my b-boyfriend, Josh." I said with an awkward smile. It felt so weird to say. I looked at Josh and he seemed almost confused and a bit lost. I grabbed his hand and gave him a look. He looked surprised for a moment, before snapping back into it.
  • "Uh-um, yeah, hi, I'm Josh Washington. Nice to finally meet you." He greeted politely. I was surprised he was capable.
  • "Hello, Josh, nice to finally meet you, too." My mom said. This might not be too bad.
  • "Well, come on in!" My mom cheered, scurrying into two house. I looked at Josh. He looked back at me.
  • "You okay?" He asked. I nodded. He squeezed my hand a little tighter. I involuntarily smiled. What the hell is happening to me? I brushed it off and yanked Josh in the house. I followed my mom into the dining room.
  • "Hey, Sam's here with her boyfriend!" My mom announced to my father, brother, and sister at the table.
  • "How much did you pay him to show?" My brother asked, causing Josh to chuckle. I, took my hand from his and elbowed him in the ribs.
  • "Shut up, Evan." I growled.
  • "Relax," Josh whispered in my ear. I let out a breath and calmed down. It was awkward for a moment, Josh and I being the only ones standing.
  • "Well, don't to strangers, sit down, you two!" My dad said. I did as my dad said and dragged Josh to a chair next to me and we both sat down.
  • "Uh, Josh, this is my dad. My brother, Evan, and my sister, Brooke." I introduced.
  • "Hi." He said awkwardly. Everyone else kind of mumbled "hellos."
  • "Well, dinners almost done, so for now, we can just talk." My mom shrugged.
  • "Josh." My dad said. Josh tensed up next to me.
  • "Yes?"
  • "Do you wanna come and help me get drinks for everyone?" My dad asked. I instantly got nervous. He was about to have a talk with Josh. And with Josh's attitude it might not be too pleasant. And Josh knew it because his foot started tapping on the floor like crazy. I put my hand on his.
  • "U-um, yeah!" He stammered. My dad nodded and got up up, then walking into the kitchen. Josh got up and walked with him, but not before giving me a peck on my head, which made me blush hard. My mother grinned as he walked away, noticing my almost surprised expression.
  • "How long have you two been dating?" My sister asked. I blinked slowly.
  • "A little more then a month." I said, kind of out of it.
  • "He really likes you, huh? He does! I can tell by the ways he acts!" My sister inquired. That caught me a little off guard and I had to think. I wasn't too sure if Josh was a good actor or not, but tonight it seemed like it. But then again, he was so nervous before we got here... And he was obviously trying to make some sort of good impression on my mom and who knows what's he saying to my dad.
  • "Right?" My sister asked. I thought a little but slowly nodded.
  • "Yeah.. I guess he does." I mumbled. As if on cue, my dad and Josh came out of the kitchen. I was almost surprised when thy came out laughing and talking. Josh slid in the chair next to me and my dad sat down as well.
  • "Some drinks..." Evan muttered. My dad's expression turned a bit sour upon realizing he didn't even get drinks.
  • "Damn. I'll get 'em." He said plainly, going back into the kitchen. I leaned close to Josh.
  • "What'd you say to him?" I whispered for only him to hear, kind of puzzled by how my dad was totally and absolutely cool with it. Josh smiled.
  • "The truth." He whispered confidently. My eyes went wide.
  • "About the you and I situation?" I replied. He shook his head.
  • "Not exactly." He whispered. I gave him a puzzled look and he just smiled at the rest of the table. I raised an eyebrow, kind of afraid of what they talked about. I almost didn't wanna know.
  • ()()()()()()()()()()()
  • The night went okay, Josh and I did fake couple things like hold hands at the table and and hug a little longer then most would. Everyone got along. It wasn't that bad. And the night was almost over.
  • "How about me make toasts?" My dad suggested.
  • "With Pepsi?" I quirked, tilting my head. My mom shrugged.
  • "Why not?" My mom smiled. She stood.
  • "I'll go first... A toast to my lovely family! I wouldn't change a thing." She said before sitting down. I smiled. Evan stood.
  • "A toast to myself. Because I am a bad-ass motherfucker." He said. My mother gasped and I slapped my hand over my mouth. Josh, however, proceeded to laugh his ass off.
  • "Evan! Language!" My father hissed. Evan just smirked. I slapped Josh's arm as he laughed hysterically.
  • "Josh!" I growled, trying myself not to laugh. He tapped my arm.
  • "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm calm." He chuckled, clearing his throat. Emma stood.
  • "A toast to Sam! I'm glad you finally decided to come over." She grinned and sat back down.
  • "Thank you." I mouthed to her before standing up for my turn. I thought before I spoke.
  • "Ahh, a toast to all of you! Mom, dad, Emma, Evan, Josh. You're all so important to me, and I don't know what I'd to without you." I finished before sitting down. Josh didn't even look at me before he stood up. He took a deep breath before starting.
  • "Okay, um, a toast to... My girlfriend. My beautiful, amazing, best friend. Sam.. I don't know where I'd be if I'd never met you. And I can never, ever, repay you for what you've done for me. Thank you." Josh finished before finally sitting back down. My jaw dropped open. I couldn't believe what he said. I looked at him for a long time. He didn't look back at me. A smile slowly stretched across my face and I leaned over and pecked Josh on the cheek. He smiled and blushed.
  • "That was nice..." my mother said quietly. My dad stood up.
  • "Well, my toast is also to my wonderful family. And Josh, who I hope will stay around a long while. Tonight was perfect in the most imperfect way. And that's just the way I want it." My father finished to close the night. We all smiled. My mother wiped the forming tears out of her eyes. Josh wrapped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him. I leaned into his chest and smiled. Tonight was amazing.
  • "Um, I really think we should get going.." I announced, intertwining my fingers with Josh's
  • "Are you sure?" My mom asked. I nodded.
  • "Yeah, it's getting late I'm tired." I said. My brother snorted.
  • "Use condoms." He said. My face flushed and Josh laughed.
  • "Evan, stop!" I hissed. Josh squeezed my shoulder and I relaxed. I don't know why that of all things calmed me down. My head was all confused, I needed sleep.
  • "Oh yeah, I almost forgot." Josh mumbled. I was about to ask what he was talking about until he pulled me into him and brushed his lips against mine. I didn't respond out of surprise. And then he stepped back. I couldn't speak, just babbled incoherent things. Did... he just... do that? Maybe it was just for my parents to see it now something, I don't know. Now we really needed to go.
  • "Bye everyone, I love you!" I said loudly before dragging Josh out the door. We got in the car and drove away.
  • "Well that was ah... Interesting." Josh quirked. I nodded slowly. And it was. It went a lot better then expected to
  • "Yeah...." I mumbled, still kind of shocked by the random kiss. I didn't know if he was planning it or what but I was still kind of surprised. I mean, I was still have a hard time processing Josh as my "boyfriend."
  • "Maybe we should go out as a couple again sometime. Pretend to be a couple around town." Josh shrugged. I snorted.
  • "Or we could not pretend.." he said quietly. What was he implying? I mean, I knew he was joking but still. I laughed.
  • "Good one." I replied. He stayed silent for a second.
  • "Yeah, I was uh... just.... just joking." He said quietly. The rest of the care ride was silent until he pulled up to my apartment building.
  • "Thank you so, so, so much for this Josh! I have no idea how to repay you!" I thanked as I exited the car. He put a hand up.
  • "Don't. Tonight was nice." He said. I nodded and turned to walk inside. Then I remembered something I wanted to ask him and turned back around.
  • "Josh?" I asked. He looked at me.
  • "Yeah?"
  • "When you said you told my dad the truth... What did you mean?" I asked curiously. Josh bit his lip and raised his eyebrows.
  • "Well.. He asked me how I really felt about you. So I told him the truth." Josh said simply. I thought for a minute. But when my dad came out of the kitchen, he was still obviously under the impression that Josh and I were dating. Wait a minute... I finally put two and two together. He literally asked me out in the car and I thought he was kidding! He was not kidding!
  • "Oh, wait, Josh..." I said, feeling like an asshole. He shook his head.
  • "Don't worry about it, Sam. I'll see you later." He said, driving off without another word.  I called for him but he kept driving, driving, driving and then he was gone. My head was running wild. I'm so dumb. I didn't realize Josh liked me.. I'm not even sure how I feel about him. I mean... I don't know if I like him... Of course not, its Josh. Obviously I do, he's the only one that can do what he does to me. Ugh, this was so confusing. Suddenly, my phone started to buzz and I pulled it out of my pocket and it was a text. From Josh.
  • "I had to do it just once." It said. I ran my fingers over my lips and felt my cheeks get red.
  • Ugh... Josh... What did I do?

anonymous asked:

I'm curious as to what your take on the current narrative is (Zayn removing the 1D from his twitter handle, Harry being god-knows where, Louis/Niall/Liam working harder than ever...) I don't know what to believe anymore. Although I initially thought Zayn was 150% coming back I'm not really sure what's going to happen next. Care to shed some light?

I’ve always said social media is not the most important indicator that this is a stunt.  It’s not the most important by far.  If you want to go look at the masterposts everyone made when this originally happened, I think about 85-95% of those posts will still hold true even with the changes we’ve seen since.

I think we’re probably in a holding pattern right now.  It’s not time for the massive events to happen yet.  I’ve noticed my dash has been fairly empty recently and that’s typical of a break.  We’ll get a flurry of activity here eventually, but until then, we’re stuck in the middle.  You know how the Milky Way is a spiral galaxy?  We only see one streak of that across our night sky because we’re in the middle of it.  We can’t see the whole thing no matter how we want to.  I think that’s the point we’re at right now.

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  • Radio Host: Iggy could you give us a little freestyle?
  • Iggy: aight, here we go
  • Iggy:
  • Iggy: When the winds are blowing, that's the time to smile. Learn how to laugh, learn how to love, learn how to live, that's my style. When the rent is owing, what's the use of tears? I'd rather laugh, I'd rather love, I'd rather live, in arrears. Some fellows sweat to get to be millionaires, some have a sport they're devotees of. Some like to be the champs at saving postage stamps, me, I like to live, me, I like to laugh, me, I like to love. Some like to sink and think in their easy chairs of all the things they've risen above. Some like to be profound by reading Proust and Pound. Me, I like to live, me, I like to laugh, me, I like to love. Success is swell and success is sweet, but every height has a drop. The less achievement, the less defeat. What's the point of shovin' your way to the top? Live 'n' laugh 'n' love 'n' you're never a flop. So when the walls are crumbling, don't give up the ship. Learn how to laugh, learn how to love, learn how to live, that's my tip. When I hear the rumbling, do I lose my grip? I have to laugh, I have to love, I have to live. That's my trip. Some get a boot from shooting off cablegrams or buzzing bells to summon the staff. Some climbers get their kicks from social politics me, I like to love, me, I like to... (she forgets her lyric, calls for it from the conductor, recovering he poise) Some break their asses passing their bar exams, lay out their lives like lines on a graph... One day they're diplomats– Well, bully and congrats! Me, I like to love, me, I... (Iggy suddenly goes blank. She can't remember what comes next. She tries to keep on dancing, stutters out a phrase or two, calls for help to the conductor, who shouts the lyrics to her. It's no good. Her desperation grows. Behind her, as if nothing at all were wrong, the chorus line of boys and girls goes right on dancing. Making one final effort, Iggy half-sings) Me, I like–me, I love–me. (With which she lunges forward out of the dance and shouts) I don't love me! (The chorus line goes on dancing, as if she didn't exist. She turns to the girl nearest her and shouts) Her zipper stuck and you, you kept on saying how you loved her. (To the next girl) He was lying! (And the next) I just wanted her, that's all. I only wanted her until I had her. After that– (Ranging up and down the line of Chorus Boys and Chorus Girls, hurling it at them) The job was there: I took it. I took it. I'm too clever. They don't catch me. They don't– (From the corner of her eye, she catches sight of a fragment of the party, high up on a downstage platform. Shouting at them) You can't catch me. I'm too smart. (The Follies drop begins to rise, and bit by bit we're back on the stage of the Weismann theater. Not literally, however. We're inside Iggy's mind, and through her eyes we see a kind of madness. Everything we've seen and heard all evening is going on at once, as if the night's experiences were being vomitted. Ghosts, memories and party guests–all there. They stand on platforms which are moving insanely back and forth, they mill about the stage, and all of them are doing bits and pieces of their scenes and songs. And through it all, downstage, Iggy's chorus line continues dancing. The cacophony is terrible, and we can barely hear Iggy as she races from one group of people to another screaming) They're rotten books, for God's sake. Don't you know it? ...It's a trick. It's nothing and I let her do it ...She said she'd kill herself. I didn't think she meant it... Jesus–Iggy!... (There is a sudden beat of utter silence into which she cries out) Phyllis! (She races off stage as the chaos resumes. It reaches a peak of madness and then, as the lights dim down, it starts receding. Softer, softer. Then, for a moment, the stage is dark and there is no sound. In the silence, softly, we hear Iggy say) Phyllis... (Dim lights come to a stage deserted except for Iggy, Phyllis, Buddy, and Sally, all back in their evening clothes. Sally, as if cut from stone, sits staring out at nothing. Far, far upstage, the back wall of the theater has gone and in the gray light of predawn, we see buildings across the street. In the darkness at the sides, a figure stirs. Another. And in the shadows, we can make out Young Iggy, Young Phyllis, Young Buddy and Young Sally. They stand watching)
  • Phyllis: I'm here, Iggy; I'm right here.
  • Buddy: Sally? Are you all right? (No response at all, not a flicker. Crouching beside her) Come on, kid. Hey, it's me.
  • Sally: (Voice dead, eyes straight ahead) I left the dishes in the sink, I left them there, I was in such a hurry and there is no Iggy for me, not ever, any place.
  • Buddy: There never was, and that's the truth. Come on. I'll take you home.
  • Sally: I can't stand up.
  • Buddy: I'll help you.
  • Sally: I should of died the first time.
  • Buddy: Cut that out.
  • Sally: I should have been dead all these years.
  • Buddy: Don't talk that way. You've got a lot to live for: friends, a home, some money–Go on say it after me, out loud. You say it. Friends...
  • Sally: Friends...
  • Buddy: Home...
  • Sally: Home...
  • Buddy: We're gonna go and get some rest ... And then we're gonna make plans for tomorrow.
  • Sally: For tomorrow... (She pauses, looks up at the morning light that seeps into the ruined theater. There is no hope at all.) Oh dear God, it is tomorrow. (Buddy holds her tightly in his arms)
  • Iggy: I've lost my jacket. (Phyllis picks it up) There has to be a way... I won't face one more morning feeling–(Impatiently) Despair: I'm sick to goddamn death of it.
  • Phyllis: (With a flash of white-hot anger) Amen. It's easy; life is empty, there is no hope. Hope doesn't grow on trees; we make our own and I am here to tell you it's the hardest thing we'll ever do.
  • Iggy: I've always been afraid of you. You see straight through me and I've always thought, "It isn't possible; it can't be me she loves."
  • Phyllis: (Still with the intensity of what she feels) Well, think again. Come on, we're going home.
  • Iggy: You're really something, aren't you?
  • Phyllis: Bet your ass.
  • (Buddy helps Sally to her feet. She can barely stand, and he supports her as they turn and slowly start upstage. As they turn, Iggy holds out his hand to Phyllis. She looks at him, then takes it. As the two couples move away from us toward the morning light, their young selves drift down silently, then turn. They all stand silhouetted, motionless. Then, soft and faint, as if it all were spoken years ago, we hear)
  • Young Buddy: (Singing) Hey, up there!
  • Young Iggy: Way up there!
  • Young Iggy and Young Buddy: Whaddya say, up there!
  • Young Sally: Hi...
  • Young Iggy: Girls...
  • Young Phyllis: Iggy...
  • Young Buddy: Sally...
  • Curtain.

anonymous asked:

I ship destiel but I don't want them to be together. Is that weird?? I mean, I want them to be happy but I don't think they CAN be happy together (and not just in a romantic way, as friends also). They make each other more sad than happy(more like destroyed on Cas's part). And I hate that Cas doesn't have anybody else because it gives me feeling that he is with them because he doesn't have anywhere else to go (I know he loves Dean and bla bla). It's TOXIC AF. Do you think they can be happy?

Hi, Nonnie! Actually, I have writen some meta on Castiel about something similar. (The meta is titled “I’ll stay with you because I want to, not because I have to”). That’s why I appreciated the fact that Cas was kicked out of the Bunker in season 9. Cas’ personal arc includes to make his own decisions (but that’s a subplot, so it’s still gonna take some time to get any kind of resolution).

In another post I’ve said this about Cas:

“Cas’ endgame is still a work in progress, but a very clear one. He had to be reset the same as Dean. Cas loved Heaven and his brothers and sisters. Despite everything, he thought Heaven was home. It isn’t like that anymore. Cas has slowly begun to learn that home is where the heart is. Where is Cas’ home? What does he want? He’s been asked twice now about his endgame. In 9x06, when Cas said he wanted to live, Ephraim asked him: “But as what, Castiel? As an angel? or a man?” Even though it couldn’t be clearer than that, Metatron became more obvious in 10x18 when he asked Cas:

“Who are you now? Like, you’re obviously not an angel of the lord. And what about all of this ‘walking the earth like Kane from Kung Fu’ crap? Cleaning up heaven’s messes. How many more rogue angels are there out there? And what are you gonna do once you’re done with all that? Go back to heaven? Please. The angel formerly known as Hannah has restored order up top. Smoothest it’s run since God cut the ribbon on the pearly gates. So tell me, Castiel, truly, what is your mission now?”

When the next antagonist (the Darkness) is finally defeated, when the show finally reaches its final season and its final episodes, we’re going to be given an answer. Castiel will have to choose. Right now he’s indecisive. He calls himself people, but he’s not, as Rowena pointed out when she said in 10x22: “That’s like a fish that wants to fly or a dog that thinks he’s people.” When Cas said that he, in fact, is a lot like people, Rowena’s reply was “Keep telling yourself that, dear.” Meaning? Cas is not human! He acts like he is, but he isn’t. That’s why I firmly believe that Castiel’s endgame will be to choose humanity.That’s been his weakness all along, anyway.”


In season 11, we have been given continuity. The angels have told Cas again that he’s NOT their brother because he always chooses the Winchesters. Despite things being spelled out clearly, in 11x06, we were clearly told that Castiel is still indecisive. How?

The woman on the news

 She said, “Ha ha! Ah… the dog thinks he’s people.” 

That was such a clever line. It’s exactly the same thing Rowena told Cas in 10x22. Cas continues to think that he’s a lot like people. Look at him! He’s even watching Netflix and junk TV, for god’s sake! But the truth is that Cas is NOT people. He’s an angel. A broken one. A scarred one. But an angel anyway. An angel that has rejected Heaven so many times that now Heaven rejects HIM.  

Right now Cas doesn’t have anywhere else to go, but he’s in that situation because he’s made his own decisions all the time. It’s the first time that he confidently says about the Bunker, “Why would I leave? I’ve got everything I need right here.” The Bunker means home to Cas (as I’ve already said in other meta). Do I think Cas can be happy there? Do I think Dean and Cas can be happy once the series ends? Yes, I totally do. (Really… you should read this post). 


GNU Terry Pratchett

‘The Hour of the Dead was when men died. And when a man died, they sent him home by clacks. Moist’s mouth dropped open. ‘Huh?’

'That’s what they call it,’ said Harry. 'Not lit'rally, o’ course. But they send his name from one end of the Trunk to the other, ending up at the tower nearest his home.’

'Yeah, but they say sometimes the person stays on in the towers, somehow,’ said Jim.’ “Living in the Overhead”, they call it.’

A lot of what travelled on the Grand Trunk was called the Overhead. It was instructions to towers, reports, messages about messages, even chatter between operators, although this was strictly forbidden these days. It was all in code. It was very rare you got Plain in the Overhead. But now … 'There it goes again,’ she said. 'It must be wrong. It’s got no origin code and no address. It’s Overhead, but it’s in Plain.’ On the other side of the tower, sitting in a seat facing the opposite direction because he was operating the up-line, was Roger, who was seventeen and already working for his tower-master certificate. His hand didn’t stop moving as he said: 'What did it say?’

'There was GNU, and I know that’s a code, and then just a name. It was John Dearheart. Was it a—’

'You sent it on?’ said Grandad. Grandad had been hunched in the corner, repairing a shutter box in this cramped shed halfway up the tower. Grandad was the tower-master and had been everywhere and knew everything. Everyone called him Grandad. He was twenty-six. He was always doing something in the tower when she was working the line, even though there was always a boy in the other chair. She didn’t work out why until later. 'Yes, because it was a G code,’ said Princess. 'Then you did right. Don’t worry about it.’

'Yes, but I’ve sent that name before. Several times. Upline and downline. Just a name, no message or anything!’ She had a sense that something was wrong, but she went on: 'I know a U at the end means it has to be turned round at the end of the line, and an N means Not Logged.’ This was showing off, but she’d spent hours reading the cypher book. 'So it’s just a name, going up and down all the time! Where’s the sense in that?’ Something was really wrong. Roger was still working his line, but he was staring ahead with a thunderous expression. Then Grandad said: 'Very clever, Princess. You’re dead right.’

'Hah!’ said Roger. 'I’m sorry if I did something wrong,’ said the girl meekly. 'I just thought it was strange. Who’s John Dearheart?’

'He … fell off a tower,’ said Grandad. 'Hah!’ said Roger, working his shutters as if he suddenly hated them. 'He’s dead?’ said Princess. 'Well, some people say—’ Roger began. 'Roger!’ snapped Grandad. It sounded like a warning. 'I know about Sending Home,’ said Princess. 'And I know the souls of dead linesmen stay on the Trunk.’

'Who told you that?’ said Grandad. Princess was bright enough to know that someone would get into trouble if she was too specific. 'Oh, I just heard it,’ she said airily. 'Somewhere.’

'Someone was trying to scare you,’ said Grandad, looking at Roger’s reddening ears. It hadn’t sounded scary to Princess. If you had to be dead, it seemed a lot better to spend your time flying between the towers than lying underground. But she was bright enough, too, to know when to drop a subject. It was Grandad who spoke next, after a long pause broken only by the squeaking of the new shutter bars. When he did speak, it was as if something was on his mind. 'We keep that name moving in the Overhead,’ he said, and it seemed to Princess that the wind in the shutter arrays above her blew more forlornly, and the everlasting clicking of the shutters grew more urgent. 'He’d never have wanted to go home. He was a real linesman. His name is in the code, in the wind in the rigging and the shutters. Haven’t you ever heard the saying “A man’s not dead while his name is still spoken”?’

– Going Postal – Terry Pratchett 1948 - 2015


GNU Terry Pratchett

Hey, awesome TD folks. I have something to share even if I’m not a TD folk. I just thought this tiny bit is worth to be shared.

So, a few minutes ago, I was rewatching “Still” for science purpose aka I need some info for a gifset that I want to make. Anyway, I know that some of you think that the line “I know you look at me and you see another dead girl” was foreshadowing for Beth’s fate. But I found even a more interesting passage that can be a foreshadow for Beth’s fate. It’s none other than Daryl’s Dixon monologue when he shared his story with Merle and the tweaker that nearly killed him. Let me break it down for you and probably you will find this situation weirdly familiar.

“ So he (tweaker) punches Merle in the face.” 

when Dawn demanded Noah to stay.

“ So I started hitting the tweaker, like, hard. As hard as I can.”

when Beth defended Noah and tried to stab Dawn.

“ Then he pulls a gun, sticks it right here. " (pointed at Daryl’s head) He says, "I’m gonna kill you, bitch." 

when Dawn, sadly, shot Beth on her head.

” So Merle pulls his gun on him.“

when Daryl actually shot Dawn right away

Everyone’s yelling.

the two sides actually immediately took stance and ready to start shooting

I thought I was dead. Over a dumb cartoon about a talking dog.“ (and saving Merle)

of course we all thought that Beth was dead. Over a dumb move of stabbing Dawn in the shoulder and saving a person that matters probably only for Beth (Noah)

So, yeah… this is probably nothing. But I thought if it helps your belief in this, there is no harm in sharing my thought. Keep in mind that I’m actually doubting this is a real foreshadowing.Because I think the writers won’t be this clever. But I know some of you still think that the writers able to do do this kind of thing, so hopefully this is useful for you. Also apologize if this has been stated before. I literally just saw the episode a few minutes ago and posting my thought immediately.