i felt the need okay

things to remember when you move out

•always have bottled water in your house/apartment
•pay your bills on time
•wash your dishes everyday
•don’t tell anyone you don’t trust you live alone
•call your mom and tell her you love her
•make sure you have extra toilet paper
•remember to close the curtains when changing
•lock all the windows and doors at night/before leaving the house
•double check that the stove is off
•don’t leave lights on too much
•use real plates instead of throwaways
•have flashlights in every room
•fruits and veggies are important
•night lights aren’t just for babies and kids
•electric and water bill are more important than cable
•don’t eat out too much
•do your laundry
•it’s okay to ask for help
•own at least two recipe books
•never lock yourself out
•but don’t hide a spare under a mat/plant
•don’t open the door without knowing who it is
•wash your bed spread a lot
•make sure you always have food in the fridge
•if you feel unsafe call someone
•candy/snacks are not meals

wait okay so….. Keith says “enough with my hair already”. He didn’t even know about “I’d recognize that mullet anywhere”. Lance called him “mullet” on occasion but…… how many hair jokes do you think we’ve missed out on???? How often has Lance told Keith to cut his hair because it would put off the ladies?? How big is Lance’s obsession with Keith’s hair really that Keith felt the need to react like this?????


Emma & Audrey + being compared to canon couples [👀]

Sick of Losing You

Plot: Harry and Y/N lost each other when he found someone else.

Warnings: None aside that it kinda broke my heart.

Playlist to the one shot: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL2S-tehb1XqDqkmE4xnz7-SciJy61soVf

Thanks to @interfectorems for being such a good friend, supporter and for requesting this. 
Songs that are mentioned but not on the playlist are “Out of the Woods” by Taylor Swift & “If You don’t Know” by 5Sos.

Pic of this beauty isn’t mine.

I watched from a far how he held on to her hand, his fingers grasping and squeezing hers gently while his eyes never left her pretty face. He watched her speak with such an intensity in his green eyes, as if he literally saw nothing other than her. His girlfriend. Not me.
I took a deep breath, swallowed the thick lump building in my throat and turned away from the sight.
Exactly three weeks ago, Harry and I had shared a kiss. Our first kiss, which had been exactly how I’d secretly always wished for it to be. Of course it had been. Every time you get to kiss the person you love is special and like fireworks painting colors into the sky.

He’d been talking and listening to me all night, similar to how he now was with her and had at some point reached out to hold my hand, just like he was holding hers in this moment.
When the time felt right, he’d leant in and had captured my lips with his. Needless to say, Harry was a phenomenal kisser. He knew when to press further, when to use how much tongue and was very attentive to how my body responded to his. Whenever I thought about it now, my cheeks tingled with the memory of his hands cupping them gently as he cradled my face to keep me close. He’d been so soft, so perfect. Harry had touched me with a tenderness, I thought it’d break my heart. I remembered wrapping my arms around his neck and feeling like they belonged there, like I was meant to hold him close.
Only that I wasn’t. The girl he was with now only proved how insignificant I was.

I couldn’t help peaking and looking over at him again. Harry’s lips. I knew exactly how they felt when pressed against my own, knew their taste and shape. Their warmth. Harry’s touch was impossible to forget.
I watched him kiss his girlfriend with a mesmerized stare, before moving away and into the kitchen, leaving the small gathering of our friends with a murmured excuse that I needed to get a refill of my drink, when in reality I couldn’t bear seeing the man I loved sharing affectionate kisses with someone else.
But not even the kitchen was a safe area for me. t had been this exact kitchen, the one in Harry’s house, where he’d pulled me aside and told me about her for the first time.

“It’s difficult” I think he said. “It’s my fault that this situation has become so messy.”

Was it silly that I could actually still remember every word he spoke to me? That I’d engraved every pause, every take in of breath he made, deeply into my head?

“Listen, Y/N… You’re important to me. I care about you. Need you, it’s just… There is someone. Someone who could be a chance for a relationship and I really want to give this a go. Give her a go, I mean. You can understand that, right?”

At first it’d felt like none of it was real. Because how could he be serious?
Harry. My best friend, Harry.
Only three days after our magical first kiss, three days full of us talking and flirting and texting constantly, he was telling me that he wanted someone else. Her name was Ira. And though he was seemingly behaving the same way with her he had been with me, we weren’t the same. In fact, she was everything I wasn’t. So when he told me he wanted her and not me, that he was picking her over of me, how come I’d been surprised?

I would never be his first choice, not when there were thousands of others he could choose from. And it was time for my brain to learn to not interpret every kind gesture, time to learn to stop overthinking every word. It was time for my head to accept, that there was no way Harry Styles could possibly want me.

So… I had been understanding. Kind even.
I’d lied and told him that yes, I agreed that our kiss had been a mistake. We shouldn’t have done any of that and instead thought of our friendship first, rather than our impulses. I’d kept a smile on my face throughout the entire talk and even finished the short chat by wishing him good luck with her. Another lie.

My fingers shook and so I set the empty glass of my drink down quickly, worried for a moment that I might otherwise spill the last few drops. I didn’t think much when I reached for the bottle of vodka on the counter. There was no getting through this night if I didn’t have something proper to drink. If only I remembered the recipe….

“Need help?”

My shoulders tensed. It couldn’t be him. Please… anyone, literally anyone, but him.

However when I turned around, Harry was there. He stood tall and beautiful, his short hair soft and wavy. Harry’s compelling eyes held my gaze with such a tender rawness in them, my knees weakened. All my body burned for was to wrap my arms around his shoulders and have him embrace me, have him tell me that everything would be okay again. I felt like I needed it, but knew that this was a wish I would be denied. Harry must have felt it, too. It was in the air around us. It had changed and… buzzed. As if being in each other’s presence made the world halt still for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” Harry chuckled lowly when I didn’t say anything. How could he smile like everything was alright?

And what was it he was apologizing for? Abandoning our friendship? Ruining any hope I’d had to find a partner in him? Shattering my heart? Hardly.

“For scaring you,” Harry elaborated, a sudden hint of guilt in his eyes, almost as if he’d read my thoughts.

“It’s fine, Harry,” I muttered, bearing a false smile, “All good.”

It was hard to look at him. Especially his eyes. They burned a whole into my chest whenever my own orbs found them. They reminded me of the Harry he once was, the one I could always come to and rely on.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, his head nodding towards the bottle of vodka. His forehead furrowed in a worried expression and I quickly set the container back down.

“I wanted to make myself a drink, but the recipe slipped my mind. I’m not as much of an alcoholic as it must look like.”

“Good to know,” Harry chuckled, then, visibly thinking about it first, took a step forward. “I remember what you like in your favorite drink. Could make you one.”

From how close he was standing, it was easy to notice every detail of his skin. Every curve of his lips, every hair of his barely-there beard. My stomach turned.

“That’d be nice.”

Harry smiled and nodded. “Okay.”

We avoided any touching. I was leant against the counter, he stood with a safe distance between us and only came closer when he needed a different ingredient that happened to be near me. It was awkward and… weird. It didn’t feel like ‘us’. The friends we’d been once seemed to be two completely different people. I knew him and felt he was familiar, but there was a emotional distance between us I knew neither of us could overcome. And still, I was with him and even if we behaved like strangers, being with Harry was nice.

“I think that’s it,” Harry said, breaking the silence. His eyes were set on the pink-orange liquid in my glass, then they drifted to my face. A proud smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

“You 'think’?” I challenged shyly.

I took the glass from him (cautious not to touch his fingers) and took a sip. It tasted great.

“M'not big of a show off,” Harry grinned, “S'it good?”

I nodded and stirred the colored liquid once more. “Thanks, Harry.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” His voice was soft and his gaze shy.

The air around us shifted once more. My eyes teared up. What had happened to us? Harry and I… we used to be the kind of friends who didn’t stopped talking to each other for hours. At first, we’d be loud. We’d laugh and giggle so much eventually both of our tummies hurt. That was when we’d change the subject and speak more quietly, until several hours later our conversations drifted to topics only we were allowed to hear. Then we’d be whispering and sitting closer together, always an eager sparkle in the other’s eyes as we both listened with interest about what was being said.

I quickly turned away and pretended to yawn. My eyes blinked rapidly and I willed them not to cry in front of him. Not because of embarrassment, but because I couldn’t do that to him. I’d given him my okay. I had no right to be mad at him for having found someone else. Harry remained standing close and with his hands in the front pockets of his black jeans.

“I think I should go,” I muttered.

I held my head low and took a deep breath before looking at him briefly. Harry’s eyes held concern and his fingers twitched, as if he longed to reach out for me.

“Y/N, love,” he began lowly, “Do you think we could talk for a bit? S'been a while since I got to see you. Hear your voice. I missed you.”

This time when my eyes met his green orbs, I didn’t look away, even though I could feel the tears forming and coming closer to spilling over. Harry’s whole expression changed. His cheeks paled and his forehead furrowed deeper.

“I miss you, too, Harry,” I admitted, my weak voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” he mumbled, shaking his head slowly, sorrow deeply set in his eyes. His feet stepped closer and his warm hands touched my flushed cheeks before I even had the chance to back away from him. The unexpected closeness caught me off guard and had more tears coming, this time because of how much I hated how uncommon this sort of care from him had become.

Harry embraced me. His head buried itself into my neck and both arms wrapped themselves around my waist so he could lift me up from my feet. “Please no, Y/N, Sweetheart. Don’t cry.”

I couldn’t help it. My heart, the final bit that had been whole still, broke in his caring hands and I was overcome and pulled under a wave of grief. That was what I was doing. I was grieving our friendship and the lost hope I’d had for a relationship with him. And he allowed it. He let me cry against his collarbones without any complaint and instead began to hum quietly, knowing how much his voice always soothed me. Pain shot through my chest. He probably did the same when she was upset.

“I can’t-” I cried, but got cut off by my lungs that burned with need for air.

Harry hushed me, his hold tightening, “Don’t, Y/N. It’s going to be alright.”

I shook my head and loosened the hold I’d taken around his neck. My hands momentarily brushed his soft hair, then I pulled away. Harry hesitated but allowed me to step out of his hold.

“I can’t take it anymore, Harry,” I confessed, my voice breaking halfway through the sentence. I reached up to brush my cheeks with the end of my sleeve and hiccuped. My head felt numb and I knew if I didn’t get out of this kitchen soon, he’d witness a break down I wasn’t comfortable with him seeing.

Harry’s hand reached for my arm. I didn’t fight it when he pulled me closer to him, but avoided his eyes when he leaned down to find my gaze.

“Y/N,” he spoke, his voice rough with emotion, “I promise you, it’ll be alright. M'not leaving, okay? M'not. We’ll figure this out.”

I wanted to scream but all I could was shake my head rapidly. “Figure this out how? What have we become, Harry?”

Another sob wrecked through my chest.

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “But we’re going to find each other again, okay? I promise. Let me say goodbye to the others and then we’ll go for a walk or something. We’ll talk. About everything and nothing at all… Just like we always used to, yeah?”

Used to. So long ago, it seemed.

“Okay,” I whispered, my burning eyes set on my feet. My skin shivered under his warmth and my lips hurt from how much I was bitting them.

I flinched when his mouth pressed a kiss to my head. The skin was left with a burning sensation. “Wait for me here, love.”

Harry’s quick feet carried him out of the kitchen and left me standing by the counter with my heart at the pit of my stomach. I stood up straight and brushed the few remaining tears from my cheeks. My skin tingled and I felt the hint of a smile on my lips, even though my body ached.
Looking back now, I wish I would have stayed put by the counter and had waited for him just like he’d asked me to. I wish I hadn’t been impatient and eager to reunite with Harry, because that eagerness drove me to exit the kitchen shortly after him and turn the corner, allowing me clear view into the living room.
There he stood. His arms around her thin form, his hands in her long hair and his lips kissing hers. All air was knocked right out of me. I could see how his hands gently moved against her neck, bringing her in closer and their bodies flush together. When their lips parted for a moment, I could see how he let his tongue run along his lower lip, as if he wanted to make sure he got all of her taste. And I could see him smile warmly at her, right before he leaned back in to connect their mouths once more. This sight… it burned.
I didn’t wait for him. Because I had been wrong before. My heart wasn’t truly broken until that moment, witnessing the man I loved with my everything, kissing a woman who wasn’t me. And if he wasn’t going to leave me, if he was just going to keep me close and allow my heart to shatter over and over again, then I supposed I would have to be the one to go first.
So that’s what I did. I walked back to the entryway, slid on my jacket, picked up my bag, and left the house. Left, to never come back to Harry Styles.

Keep reading

Enough is Enough

Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,067

Warnings: slight panic attack, language, asshole Dean 

Request: Can I request an imagine where the reader lives with the brothers at the bunker & Dean is always a jerk to her & then one day she has a panic attack & then fluff ensues…

Summary: Reader has lived & hunted with the boys for 3 years & usually puts up with Dean being a dick pretty well. One night, she can’t take anymore and has a panic attack.

A/N: Enjoy!! Feedback greatly appreciated!! And thank you to @mamapeterson for just reading over this before I posted it lol wasn’t too confident on it tbh but I hope y’all like it!!

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Can we please have X or S for Elorcan? Thanks!

1. thanks for the prompt nonnie! 2. Sorry I took so long to respond! 3. I may or may not have stared at this prompt all this time because I JUST DON’T KNOW MAN

Edit: I took it too far oops. Is someone surprised? Also I didn’t even get to the lingerie because I was too focused on The Sex. Also I pretty much see Elide just wearing Lorcan’s clothes 24/7 and him constantly aroused from it, so there you go.

X- First time S- Lingerie 

-So, we know that Elide is Thirsty for Lorcan- she was making all the moves after all. But the thing is, she has very, very little experience. I mean she spent the majority of her life locked up with her nursemaid and then was a slave with the sole focus of surviving. What I’m saying is, these circumstances don’t really lend to the opportunity to even discover your own body. I’m not saying that Elide hasn’t had an orgasm, but I think it’s safe to say those times are few and far between.

-Lorcan… on the other hand… Mr. Horny… has 500 years worth of very active experience. 

-As much as I would love their first time to be one of those “heat of the moment” type things after an argument or something, I think it would actually start off quite slow. After Aelin comes back and after Elide has started to thaw again towards Lorcan, they start sleeping in the same room. For the comfort of being close and knowing where the other one is. 

- One night they enter their room after a particularly stressful day and after changing into comfortable clothes Elide becomes quiet and stands staring out the window. Lorcan comes up behind her and places his hands on her shoulders. “Elide?”, her shoulders drop as she says, “How are any of us supposed to make it out of this alive?” 

-“This war is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. But so is the amount of power we have on our side.” He doesn’t try to convince her that it will be fine, that no one will die, or that they’ll even win. He knows her better than that. “Sleep with me tonight”. Lorcan’s hands tighten involuntary. “…What?”.. “I- I mean in the same bed. Sleep in my bed tonight.”

-They lie there facing each other and after a few moments Lorcan sees his hand lift to stroke Elide’s hair. He’s trying to take in every inch of her face to dedicate it to memory. Her eyes keep roving over his face too. He opens his mouth to speak but she beats him. “I love you.” His eyes widen, utter shock painting his features. “Elide-” she cuts him off, “you dont have to say anything. I just needed you to hear it.”

-He moves his hand to cup her cheek, leaning in closer. “Elide, you have turned my world upside down. You are the strongest, most beautiful person I have ever met. I have never, never loved anyone more than I love you”

-It’s hardly any movement at all before she’s kissing him, a hand on his chest. She grabs the back of his neck and drags him forward, pulling him over her. And it’s like they are back in the marshes, his body a heavy weight between her legs. He’s panting just as much as she is, and when he drags his mouth away to lick and nip and suck at her jawline, under her ear, her throat- he starts saying her name over and over and over again.

- It takes him a moment to realize that she’s moved her hands and is tugging on the hem of her shirt, exposing more and more of her pale stomach until he stills them with a growl, “What are you doing”. “I don’t want to wait- I don’t want to take our time. I want this. I want you.”

-His hands fall away and she loses sight of him for a moment as her shirt goes over her head. It takes every ounce of her willpower to avoid crossing her arms over her chest. But when she looks him in the eyes, she realizes that he’s looking into her eyes instead of at her breasts. 

-When he finally looks, and touches, and trails his mouth over her, he takes his time. He works slowly, methodically, until she’s begging him for more. Eventually she grabs the collar of his shirt to pull it over his head.

-After trailing his tongue around her bellybutton, his fingers brush the hem of her pants and he looks up at her. “Please,” is all she says. He slowly drags them down her body and once she’s free of them, he rubs her calves in soothing sweeps, telling her how beautiful she is. 

-”Now you.” She wants to see him, wants them to be even in this- with him as vulnerable as she is. When he takes off his pants, he continues to gaze at her, kneeling between her thighs and aching everywhere. She stares unabashedly between his legs, feeling very uncertain all of the sudden. He cups her face, kissing her, “Elide, let me make you feel good. I want to kiss you everywhere. Let me taste you.” He pulls back enough to look in her eyes as she says, “yes.”

-He moves down her body and finally takes in the view before him while brushing his lips up and down the inside of her thigh. She’s glistening and pink, and when he strokes near her folds Elide’s leg falls a bit wider. Even though he feels like he’s about to combust, he continues his slow pace until he finally tastes her. Slides a finger inside her while licking her in broad sweeps. Moans and whimpers escape her, sounding as if she’s shocked at her own response. When he adds a second finger and focuses his tongue on her clit, her hand shoots out to squeeze his shoulder. “Lorcan, oh gods.”

-When she comes, she throws her head back, her breathing out of control as she cries out. He works her back down again and when he removes his fingers he sucks them clean, his eyes closed. She grabs at him and crushes her mouth against his. 

-He lays down beside her and hefts her over him, placing her astride him. He urges her to rock back and forth against him. And when his hands cup her hips to show her the movement, his cock slips between her lips, pressed between her body and his stomach. Her wetness coats him and she bends over, kissing him and then burying her face in his neck as she continues to grind against him. Now he’s panting and moaning, squeezing his eyes shut- to dull the madness of the pleasure or relish in it he’s not sure.

-When they’re both desperate and she pleads his name, he tells her that she can ease onto him at her own pace if she so chooses. She sits up, a hand braced on his stomach, and lifts his cock to place it at her entrance. She tries to position her hips, tries to lower herself, but she flinches and her shoulders tighten up. He strokes her legs and encourages her to go slow, to take her time.

-When he’s slipped in a couple inches, her hand clenches on his stomach and her eyes are squeezed shut. “Lorcan.” She has a kind of desperate edge to her voice and he lifts her chin to look at him. “Lorcan. I… I need- I can’t-” “Elide, please, my love, we don’t have to do this tonight, we can do whatever you-” “No, I want this. I just- I don’t know how to…” she trails off. “Do you want me to?” “Yes. Please”

-”I’ll be right back sweetheart” Lorcan says as he crawls off the side of the bed. As he rifles around for the jar he’s looking for, he takes a second to calm his breathing. He realizes that he’s nervous and jittery in a way he hasn’t been in a very, very long time. Elide is… everything, and he’s terrified he’s going to hurt her, that he’s going to ruin everything, again.

-When he finds what he’s looking for, he turns around and see’s that she’s lying on her side, facing him, a hand propped on an elbow. He stops cold, feeling some of that nervous energy wash away at how utterly beautiful she looks naked before him. They share a sweet little smile, and he comes back to bed to lie on his side too, facing her. He kisses her, hitching one leg over his, while one of his goes between her legs. They press against each other, Elide sighing into his mouth. He reaches behind him to grab the jar, and she breaks away to look down at it. 

-”This is going to help us a little, alright?” She nods, and he twists off the lid, scooping some out onto one hand and screwing the lid back on with the other so he can toss it over his shoulder. He reaches between them, easing his fingers between her legs, rubbing against her and kissing her neck. 

-At first, the salve feels cool against Elide’s skin, but it soon warms between them, and Elide feels her heartbeat pick up again as Lorcan’s fingers work their way into her, rubbing against every part of her, back and forth. When he pulls his fingers back, she opens her eyes to see him grabbing her leg and hitching her leg higher, pulling her body closer to his. Then his hand is gripping himself, gliding the tip of him against her. She lifts her leg higher to help him and when she feels him pressing into her she looks up. His eyes are blazing into hers and she feels his other hand around her back, the fingertips pressing into her skin.

-She wraps her arms around him, pressing her face into his neck. He pushes in a couple inches and pauses. “Elide, talk to me love, I don’t want to hurt you.” She squeezes him harder at the vulnerability in his voice, “Keep going, just go slow.” His hips tilt, and Elide can feel the pressure increasing inside her. She forces herself to take controlled, deep breaths and hears Lorcan murmuring in her ear. “That’s it. Gods, I love you Elide. You feels so good.”

-Eventually he moves his hand away and wraps it around lower back, his hand resting on one cheek. He begins rocking his hips, the smooth glide easing him in further and Lorcan feels like he may actually explode. Elide is panting against his shoulder and she pulls back enough to drag heated kisses against his mouth, both of them breathless enough that it’s little more than an exchange of air. “Are you alright?” “Yes”

-Lorcan tucks the arm underneath him between her legs, his hand against his pelvis so that his knuckles begin to drag against Elide’s clit. She moans and he pulls her hips closer. They rock together that way, finding their rhythm until Elide cries out and presses her forehead against his. When he feels her contract around him, he realizes that this slow love making is all it’s going to take, that this closeness and her tight squeeze around him is all it’s going to take to make him come too. 

-They remain that way, tangled up together for what feels like hours, seconds. They move only slightly, repositioning their legs, Lorcan’s arm under Elide’s neck, when sleep drags them both under.

anonymous asked:

It's such a gross double standard that same sex ships are the ones seen as mental and delusional. No one calls hendall shippers mental. No one cares that people still ship him with Taylor even years after it ended. No one even cares that fans ship Harry with themselves (which is awkward and weird as fuck)

“No one calls hendall shippers mental. No one cares that people still ship him with Taylor even years after it ended.”

Sugaring is honestly 40% luck and 60% persistence. 💭

Don’t ever forget this, ladies! I’ve been wanting to say this for a while now, especially to the black and brown aspiring sugar babies. I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve gotten down on myself about not receiving the same kind of attention as I know white sugar babies do, or reading through a profile that sounds ideal and then at the end seeing the part that says “Caucasian, Latina, and Asian only - just a PREFERENCE”. 🙄 Don’t give up.

The other thing that I think needs to be said is that I am not conventionally pretty. I did the Big Chop about four months ago and still think that my nose is a little too big for my face (I was told that all the time growing up). But guess what? Every POT date that I’ve been on, I’ve walked away with an arrangement offer. I have been begged for second dates, been promised $150 just to have dinner and walked away after being given all the cash he had in his wallet, I’m preparing to move into my own studio apartment, paid my mom back all the money I’ve owed her, started saving again, and was able to buy my best friend a really expensive gift that I knew she’d love (lots of tears were shed).

I spent almost a year after my last vanilla relationship feeling like I wasn’t worth it. I was 19 when that relationship began; he was 26. When it ended, I felt like he had stolen something from me… my time, the gift of my intimate self, money I had spent going to visit him almost every weekend. I realized that what I had provided was labor – emotional and sexual labor, that was never reciprocated or compensated in a way that I felt okay with.

If a man wants you, he needs to be providing something in return. To me, orgasms aren’t enough. I can literally give myself a better orgasm than I’ve ever had with a man by using a vibrator. I have deeper emotional connections and conversations with my best friends than I’ve ever had with a man.

Do these men believe they can have that mind blowing orgasm without a woman? No. Can they feel that highly desired level of feminine energy without a woman? No. They need us. And for that, we deserve to be compensated for it.

Don’t forget that. You are worth it. You are beautiful. You deserve whatever it is that you want. You can have it. Go get it. 💕

xoxo, K

hooookay, ramble time here, going to try to be as diplomatic as possible about this but who knows… 

Half of my dash right now is like ‘please stop abusing Loki he’s been through enough crap’ and the other half is like ‘please stop turning Loki into a poor misunderstood baby’ and I’m just sitting here, awkwardly in the middle and understanding both sides and it’s slightly uncomfortable and really frustrating. Especially as someone who roleplays Loki. 

The thing about Loki is… he goes out of his freaking way to antagonise people, especially the people who try most to help him. No, he does not deserve a lot of the crap he’s been through. But then he turns around and tries to make himself the villain (with like 50/50 success), whether out of bitterness or fear or spite, and there comes a point where you can’t keep trying to dissect his true motivation. Should Loki’s imprisonment have been handled differently, more gently? Yeah, probably. Did he give anyone any reason to think it might help? Not in the slightest. He has come to believe that everyone sees him as the bringer of chaos, and instead of trying to convince them otherwise, he embraces the role, and that is his choice

He is misunderstood. Why? Because he takes such great pains to keep it that way. And that’s the thing I feel like a lot of the fandom, whether they want to hug Loki or not, misses. That he is his own worst enemy, and will always be. 

And a side note, like, the clip of Thor throwing something at him? That is not a violent gesture. Thor hardly even uses his arm–it’s a flip of the wrist. That’s an irritable ‘hey you jerk’ toss between siblings, and I’m really sceptical of calling that ‘abuse’. 

let’s talk about dangerous blues

since today is the 10th anniversary of myrtle beach let’s talk about dangerous blue by the young veins, because it’s definitely about myrtle beach night and i’m just very emotional about this song. i’m going to take a closer look at some of the lyrics and try to interpret them (in a very biased way, obviously, so be warned)

when ryan sings the song, he pauses after “lie” before ending the sentence, making it sound like “all i do is lie.” this is a hint at the secrecy and lies surrounding their affair (ocean side = myrtle beach, obviously)

again, we have the secrecy, having to hide, and a feeling of guilt because of what they’re doing - it feels true and right, but it’s wrong (another young veins song (die tonight): “we’re in love, and it really hurts when it’s wrong”)

because they’re outside by the ocean, there’s no door and no house, but they feel at home (because they are each other’s home)

basically, they’re fucking on the floor (they’re ~euphoric~) and it’s risky because there are people around (we know they weren’t alone on myrtle beach)

well it’s pretty obvious what it means, but anyway: he has never really known how it feels to be in love before that night, and it’s 1) beautiful, 2) a “blues”, probably because he can’t be open about it (or possibly because he wrote it after the split when he was sad about it?) 3) a drug (self-explanatory, it feels good but it’s addictive and harmful), and 4) dangerous because they’re taking the risk of being caught

there’s more but i picked the most important lines because it would’ve gotten too long otherwise

thank you for tuning in, feel free to add on to this if you’ve noticed something else