My wife is sick, so she asked me to make her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Easy! This is literally something a four year old can make. I put together the sandwich and drop it off with the wifey, thinking that I’ve done a good deed.
“Dear?” my wife asks. “There isn’t any jelly in this.”
“Oh my god. I forgot that jelly goes in a PB&J.”
I have hated grape jelly my whole life. For my entire childhood, I would ask my mother for a PB&J and she, knowingly, would give me nothing but peanut butter. Why did I still include jelly in the title? I don’t know. I’m shaken by the realization that some people put jelly with their peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
“We don’t have any jelly, though,” I say.
“We have fig butter,” she replies, as if in this insane new universe, where jelly goes on a PB&J, that fig butter is a sensible substitute.
I put fig butter on this abomination, this failed sandwich, that has one bite taken out of it. I present the creation to my wife; dozens of gall wasps have died for this.
She takes a bite. “There’s too much fig butter in this. Maybe you just don’t like jelly because your family puts too much jelly on things.”
I can’t reevaluate my feelings on jelly now. I’m thirty. I can’t look back. Jelly is disgusting. I give my wife a hollow smile.
Hahaha, hello there! Are you traumatized by our weird smut fics? Me too, buddy, me too. Seriously, Dean fucking his catboy Cas never leaves my mind. Anyway, this one is quite simple question since smut fics are veeeery common. I can’t be the only one who finds normal books weird nowadays. Seriously, a story without smut is like… Well, kid’s book. Everyone should read a few smut fics and they wouldn’t think that 50 Shades is something special. It’s not. It’ shitty. - Admin J
P.S. If you have no idea what we’re talking about, check the WTF did I just read tag in HERE.
P.P.S. If weird kinks are not allowed, let me share a gif that has nothing to do with anything.
Title: A Chip on my Shoulder and a Halo on my Head
Words: 6,461 – Finished
Admin’s assessment: ★ ★ ★ ★
Admin J’s notes: I’m not a huge fan of professor Cas (unlike Admin A) but this one has something sooooo cool in it. I love it! No weird kinks, if tattooed Cas doesn’t count.
Summary: Dean finally meets the professor that Sam has been talking up for the entire semester and can’t help but think the guy is a total dick. A sandwich, a plaid shirt, and one hell of a first date later, Dean has to admit…he was so, so very wrong.
Admin J’s notes: Did I cross the line with this one? Hope not. It’s not TOO kinky. I mean, no catboys, or pet angels, or Hitler. Seriously, if you have read our super kinky and weird posts, this is nothing compared to those.
You know, reading fics has made me a bit insane person. I mean, my friends tell me that their boyfriends want to do this and that and I’m like “ah, well that’s nothing. Let me tell you about—” and then all people disappear from the room and I’m like “I just got started”. Does that happen to anyone else?
Summary: All Dean had to do was just go up the stairs. Simple enough… right?
Admin J’s notes: Okay, I’m back in business. Not too kinky.Once again, not a big fan of age difference either, but this one is sooo good. So good. It’s not just smut, it also has a plot, but smut comes first, so it should fit into your needs. Oops, that sounded kinky. OH. And a warning: I hope you don’t mind ABO too kinky, because ABO fic it is.
Summary: Restless in the wake of his heat, 18 year old Dean Smith sneaks out of his college dorm in search of a one-night stand and ends up with much more than a few lovebites to show for it.
days like this makes me want to cry like a mf like thEY REALLY THOUGHT WHIZZER WAS GETTING BETTER WHO WANTS TO FUCKING FIGHT ME
-”Whizzer, kid, you’re looking very good today” (lies but also maybe not because marvin sees whizzer as a wonderful and beautiful angel)
-”But today you seem to be on the way to recovery!” (marvin’s enthusiasm and hope makes my heart break)
-”It’s days like this I almost believe in God” (marvin has so much faith in whizzer he has no one else to thank but god, self explanatory but the most important line in the song obviously as its the title and its the one meant to hit hardest since judaism is so prominent in the musical. but does marvin believe in god because he forgot his faith or he’s glad he’s had his faith all along?)
-”Also a soup made from chicken that, though un-exotic, is antibiotic!” (oh cordelia, we love you for your innocence as she believes she can cure whizzers mere sickness with delicious chicken soup)
-”'How can I help?’ says the wiry psychiatrist,” “he’ll make you well!” (trina and mendel do love whizzer and trina hopes mendel can help guide whizzer somehow maybe mentally making him well?)
BTS Reaction When They’re on tour for a while and you are ignoring them (Happy ending)
Damn, Long title, anyways,
Jin: He would call you, “How come you haven’t been answering my text or calls? I have called you like 5 times today! I’m really worried.. Please call me back!” You look at your phone at finally decide to answer him back so your phone would stop vibrating. “Oh my god Y/n! Finally! I have been waiting all day for you to call me! Why weren’t you answering?” “Jin, let me explain please, you have been so busy on tour that I kinda forgot about everything. I still love you, so please don’t worry. I was just really busy and caught up in everything that I could never get back to you, sorry if it felt like I was ignoring you.” “…” “Jin..?” “JEEZ YOU MADE ME WORRY FOR NOTHING AND NOW YOU SAY ALL THESE THINGS ABOUT YOU LOVING ME AND BEING BUSY LIKE SERIOUSLY Y/N WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO MAKE ME FEEL???” “I’m sorry Jin, But please don’t worry anymore”
RapMon: He was coming back home in less than a week. You have been busy with studies and work that you weren’t able to talk to him for the past few days. On the other hand, Namjoon would call you at whatever break he had, only to get sadder each time you didn’t reply. Soon, he gave up calling you and waited for you to call him. Your texts consisted of “Hey” and “Hi” but that was it for the day. You finally come home after a busy day at work and notice all these notifications on your phone. Hoping that he wasn’t mad at you, you quickly called him, not even realizing the time zone changes. He lazily looked up to the buzzing of his phone. Once realizing it was you, he shot right out of bed into the hallway of the dorm. “Y/n?? Is it really you?” You realized the time when you heard his sleepy voice, “Oh my god! I’m so sorry! did I wake you up?” “No it’s fine! Why didn’t you pick up earlier?” “I was just really busy.. Sorry. I just got home so..” “No no that’s okay! But you just got home now?? Isn’t it like, midnight over there?! well, nevermind that doesn’t matter. I’ll be home in a few days! I’ll finally be able to sleep with you again! The boys are really starting to get on my nerves. Please wait for me! I love you!” “…” “Y/n..? Are you sleeping..?” He laughed to himself, “I wish I could see your cute sleeping face. Anyways, I love you, goodnight~”
Jimin: He would be over the top worried and panicked. All the members would have to calm him down and tell him you were probably just busy. There were times he went crazy and would stay locked up in the dorm all day hugging a pillow pretending it was you. “Tae! What.. What if she doesn’t love me anymore?!” “That’s crazy jimin.. She loves you as much as you love her. Please stop overreacting.” Just then, His phone rang, He leaped out of the bed, onto the floor, and grabbed it, “OH MY GOD ITS HER!! TAE!! ITS HER!!!!” “Well then Pick up the damn phone before the call ends!” He fumbles with the phone, “HELLooO?1??!?/! *Clears throat* Hello..?” He could hear her laughing on the other end and he smiled while melting into the phone, “hi Jiminie~ It’s been a while hasn’t it?” “You have NO Idea. But you know, I was handling it perfectly” “NO HE DIDN’T! HE WAS CRYING AND HOLDING A PILLOW PRETENDING IT WAS YOU Y/N” You heard Taehyung scream from behind. there was a moment of silence before you heard someone pick up the phone, “Sorry, I had to lock Taehyung out. Anyways, how are you? are you feeling well? Have you been eating well?” “These are all the questions I should be asking you Jimin” You laughed “aha, sorry. You didn’t answer me back all those other days, I was afraid you didn’t love me anymore..” “Jimin that’s ridiculous. Of course I love you. You’re my one and only” You heard sniffles, “jimin? don’t tell me.. you’re crying?” “WHAT N-NO *Wipes away tears* I-I LOVE YOU TOO OKAY?! PLEASE REMEMBER THAT!” “Of course!”
Suga: I’m pretty sure if you just text him once, he’ll be fine. But on the inside, he’ll be dying. He’ll text you almost every minute with repeated “Hi’s” He’ll be the most calm out of the other members but he’ll just think you’re giving him the cold treatment he has been giving you since he was on tour and he understood that so he was letting you be and waited for you to text him or call him back.
Sorry that I didn’t really elaborate on Suga’s ;-; I’m really tired from classes but I will do the other members tomorrow I’m sorry ;-; ~Admin Luna
Both are walking out of class, since it was cancelled due to technical difficulties.
INTP: Wow, I feel like there’s so much time left in today, as opposed to when we usually get out of class. This is exciting, I don’t even know what to do.
ENFP: You can go play in the leaves! That’s what I would be doing, if I didn’t have another class in today.
INTP: I… don’t think that’s something I would want to do.
ENFP: But it’s Falllllll, INTP, it’s the best.
INTP: Why is Fall you’re favourite?
ENFP: You know, it’s not too hot, or too cold, there’s hot chocolate, and campfires, and leaves to play in!
ENFP: What about you, though? Fall isn’t yours?
INTP: No, I actually really like Winter.
ENFP: No, because it’s cold and all the leaves are gone.
INTP: Yeah, I know, it’s great. It’s cold, and quiet, and nobody is around, it’s like I’m the last person on Earth, I love it.
ENFP: Noooo, INTP, I don’t like Apocalypse the Season.
INTP: It’s not apocalyptic!
ENFP: It’s totally apocalyptic!
INTP: Just because it’s quiet and it feels like I’m the only one around, does not make Winter apocalyptic.
INTP: The fact that I like to pretend that I’m the sole survivor of some terrible ice age / world-wide tragedy that has left me to wander and struggle against the abandoned Earth in its silent, hostile environment is what makes it apocalyptic.
I’m not sure i knew what that title meant then, but the script was oh‑my-God superb, the best hour-long drama I’d ever read. Great characterizations, complex plots, nuanced story elements, surprises that left you thinking: What on earth is going to happen next?
By virtue of the writing, I began dreaming about this character, this Walter White. I was waking up in the middle of the night with him on my mind. I recalled being back on the Blue Ridge Parkway, marooned by rain. I got so lost in an Ibsen play, the story and the characters, that I forgot about the rain. I can’t describe how rare that is to find in script form. I can’t explain how an actor longs for that richness and depth and humor and humanity to work with. To build on. This was it. I had no idea where the story was going, but I knew it was gold.
I had a meeting set with Vince the following week. I told my agents: “Make it sooner.” I went into the AMC offices in West L.A., knowing I was scheduled for twenty minutes, and ended up staying an hour and a half.
“Do you know how he should look?” I asked. “Uh, kinda,” Vince answered, smiling.
I ventured some of the ideas that had come to me since I’d read the script. “He’s missed so many opportunities in life,” I said. “You can see that in every part of him. He has a mustache that isn’t manly. That isn’t anything. You look at him and say: Why bother? His skin and his hair are the same bland hue. He wears pale yellow and sand and taupe. He blends into the background. Invisible. To society. To himself. I’m thinking he’s doughy. One hundred eighty-six pounds.”
I saw this character, this man, so clearly. I knew how he carried himself. Burdened. His shoulders were slumped like those of a much older man. I was imagining a man who carried himself a lot like my dad.
When I asked about his plans for the arc of the show, Vince told me in his genteel Virginia drawl, “I want to take this character from Mr. Chips to Scarface.”
“So you’re going to take this guy from good to bad?” I said. He nodded and smiled slyly. “If they’ll let me.”
I couldn’t believe it.
All television, to that point, had been based on stasis, characters you come to know and love. The prevailing thought for most of the history of television had been that viewers want someone they can count on. Archie Bunker. In every episode of “All in the Family,” he’s consistently Archie. Jerry Seinfeld, same. Ross and Rachel, you see them in different situations — will they or won’t they? — but they’re invariably Ross and Rachel. Even the characters we’ve known to break new ground, like Tony Soprano. As genius and gamechanging as that show and performance were, you didn’t see Tony change a whole lot from the beginning to the end. Tony Soprano is Tony Soprano. Don Draper may change a little, but he basically remains Don Draper until the show’s meditative finale, and even that’s debatable. Some argue the workaholic adman was meditating not on the here and now, but on the creative for a Coke commercial.
Vince was proposing to blow up the model of a successful show. Walt would truly change. By the time the series ended, he’d be unrecognizable to viewers, to himself.
“You’re really going to do that?” I asked again. “That’s the plan,” he said, laughing. “Do you realize that no one’s ever done that in the history of television?”
Vince shrugged. “We’ll see if it works.” I didn’t know if it would work, either. But I knew I wanted in. I had to have it.
Evan: I’m really happy you took me to the apple orchard. Its so pretty here.
Connor: Yea. It is. Hey! We should climb a tree!
Evan: *immediately freezes up* I-I don’t really want to um, but if you want to thats ok I guess
Connor: Oh right. I forgot about you falling out of that tree. Didn’t mean to bring back a bad memory.
Evan: I um, I didn’t, um, I didn’t fall.
Connor: What do you mean you didn’t fall? What else could have- *realizes what happened* Oh my god Evan. Why didn’t you tell me?
Evan: Its nothing really, I’m um, I’m better now and-
Evan: *starts to tear up* I just, I couldn’t find another branch to hold on to and the branch i was on started to crack and I just thought you know maybe this is my time maybe I should just let go and then everything would be better and-
Connor: Evan, Its ok.
Evan: *full on sobbing* I just-
Connor: I know how it feels. Its gonna be ok. Just, here *hugs him*
jess. jess I love you to death oh my god. (also, where the hell have u been??? i miss you.)
Title: The Giraffe Stalker
Pairing: Armin/ Annie
Syn: Armin is not okay with this random tall man checking out his girlfriend’s ass. Like, at all.
Armin had never felt quite this irritable.
“Annie, let’s go to the fiction section.”
She gave him an inquiring look. “Alright? But we just came from there.”
“I forgot something.”
Swiftly, he took his girlfriend’s arm and strode across the carpeted floor of the book store, keeping one eye out for the tan, tall giraffe he’d seen the entire time.
They stopped. Cautiously, Armin released Annie’s arm. He pretended to reach for a manga, not paying attention to the cover.
“What the hell are you doing?”
He looked at his book.
His apparently R-rated book.
Thoughtlessly, Armin flung it into the air, yelping. Annie watched, astonished, and turned back to him with concern.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “Should we check out?”
Checking out. Ugh. Without meaning to, Armin’s gaze flitted backwards. The giraffe was still there.
Annie followed his eyes before he could stop her. She caught sight of the disgusting, perverted, creepy, giraffe-sized stalker across the shop.
And…waved at him?
“What are you doing?” Armin hissed, taking her hand. “That guy’s been following us for the last ten minutes. He keeps…..ogling you. It’s disgusting.”
Annie frowned. “You mean Bert?” she asked. “He’s harmless. We went to high school together.”
Armin huffed exasperatedly, placing a hand on Annie’s back to guide her away. “Well, he could’ve changed. You don’t know. He keeps staring at you, and I- I don’t like it.”
“Please, Armin,” she dismissed, batting his hand away. Armin watched, helpless, as she made her way over to the giraffe man. His stomach lurched as the stalker brightened up. He had such a sickeningly friendly face.
Annie returned moments later, smiling. Armin took note of her expression with more than a hint of bitterness, taking her hand and walking away before she had a chance to say any more to him. They payed for their books and left, walking down towards the parking garage in uncomfortable, seething silence.
They reached the garage soon enough. Annie promptly took Armin’s arm, swung him around the corner of the entrance, and pinned him to the wall inside.
Armin stood stiffly against the concrete.
“Y-yes?” he stammered, clutching his books tightly to his chest. He was getting serious middle school flashbacks, suddenly.
“I was going to introduce you to him,” Annie said, her tone flatter than Armin had ever heard it before. “We were best friends in high school. I can’t believe I let you-”
“He was following us-”
“Because he’s shy!”
“He was staring at you and-”
“And what? You got a little uncomfortable, because other people could see me with their eyes?”
Averting his gaze, Armin kept his lips sealed. He didn’t trust himself to explain his feelings the right way. If there was a right way to explain them at all.
Annie shot daggers at him, her eyes piercing through his face and hair as she waited for him to speak.
But he didn’t.
And then she realized.
“Oh, my god. Wait.’
Her grip on his shoulders softened. Her eyes dropped to the floor.
“What?” Armin asked.
“Are you- were you...jealous?”
Fair skin flushed a deep, deep pink. Armin shrank under her.
“No, no, no. Jealousy is childish and embarrassing and-”
Pink lips pressed against pale ones. Then they left them.
“Sweet,” Annie finished. “Coming from you, it’s sweet.”
Breathlessly, Armin met her gaze. “You think so?”
A shy smile began to grow. Armin tried his damndest to hide it, but it blossomed wildly, spiraling out of his control. Ducking his head, he took his girlfriend’s hand and sprinted across the first floor of the parking garage.
Annie stumbled after him, internally rolling her eyes. He was a dork, now a jealous dork, but he was her jealous dork. She was happy to take him as he came.
A/N: This is the worst thing I ave ever written Jess and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m tired and I am sick and I don’t know what I wrote please help me. Good night.
world only god knows au. it’s been playing on animax so i decided why not. you don’t have to read world only god knows to understand this. this is just filthy fanservice and
the ramblings of my stressed out mind. special thanks to crimsonwings21 for talking to
me about this
Tentative title: The World Tsuna Doesn’t Want To Know
edit: oh right forgot to add: this chapter is 8027
There were a lot of things Tsuna hated about his life. For
example, there was his father who seemed to only come home once every fifteen
blue moons. Another was the fact that he basically failed at everything he did.
He still didn’t know how he managed a critical fail with
I’m running out of stories to tell here. I don’t think I’ll ever run out of stories, whether it be my standard navel-gazing introspection, or the mundane and the complex and wonderful things about being a parent and a person and trying to be both things at once.
But I’m running out of stories for this space, for this little spot, just for now. This may not always be the case. I’ll probably find something to talk about, sometime, that’s not a suggestion about what shoes to wear or sales to look at. But lately, I’ve pulled back, just a bit.
Writing is cathartic for me. I love it and always have. And, part of the reason I enjoy this space is because I can write amongst so many of you. Sometimes shouting in an empty room feels just right. Sometimes shouting in a crowded space feels better. Mostly, right now, I like the empty room.
There are so many things I want to write about: I want to tell you about Isobel, about her getting so much bigger, about the way parenting has changed for me. I want to tell you about me, about how depression has truly crippled me at times this year, and offer you a hand if you’ve felt the same. I want to write about all those things, in detail, spread them all out here, but this is all I can do right now.
Blogging about clothes is so stupid, right? The title “lifestyle blogger” is terrible. Like a life is something you can construct out of gold accents and Anthropologie sale racks. That’s not to say there isn’t value in self-care or in indulging occasionally, because there is. I had a massage right before Thanksgiving and it was so phenomonal, so completely blissful, that I almost forgot I was a human on this earth for 90 minutes. (Yes, I sprang for 90 minutes. I encourage you to do the same.) My mind was quiet, my body was still, and it was an indulgence and that’s okay. I needed it. (“Oh my god, your shoulders.” I know, lady. I KNOW. They’re well up around my ears most of the time.)
But, anyway: this space. It might feel empty, or even bland for a while. Maybe it has already–if so, I’m sorry. (I hope you like books. -___-) At some point, I want to be here again in earnest, talking occasionally about things that matter to me that are not just oversized sweaters. (I love oversized sweaters.) Still, I’m not sure how to do that yet. I recently stumbled on a couple old posts–things I wrote about being pregnant, being scared, having a new baby. Those were real feelings, and I enjoyed writing about them, hearing from you (many of you who are my friends) about you feeling the same. That’s really lovely when that can happen.
For now, it’s almost the holidays, and then–praise! The new year. 2016, finally. I’m excited for Iz to turn 4. My sister is coming back from Ecuador soon for a brief stay. Oh, and it’s 70 degrees today, December 14. I am wearing an oversized sweater. This is me, saying hi. Shouting in the crowded room.
I completely forgot I changed my blog title a while back and had no idea who Promenade & Repose was until I remembered it was a smutty joke I made about Victorian netflix and chill and suddenly the world fell back into place because oh, it me.
Anyway, happy 6th birthday to the death of my ability to focus on anything not surrounded by a blue background! Time sure flies when you’re inflicting sad headcanons on unsuspecting victims in the tags and memeing like a shitlord hahaha