i got this off his facebook

shibolet3  asked:

Wait what con artist from 2014

I’d like to title this story “Swing And A Miss

Okay, so my high school had this program where seniors could leave school like a month and a half early and opt out of exams if they took on internships around the neighborhood, but not everyone wanted to/was eligible to do it. Back in like 2013, they had like 15 bored seniors stuck in the school, so the administration brought in this Professional Life Coach, left him in alone in a room with them for two hours to talk to them about like, self-esteem or some shit. All the kids were pulled out of their classes for this*, and later told the administration that they loved him, they really enjoyed the talk.

So, about a year later, we have a new principal. He’s supposed to set up an assembly for all the 11th and 12th graders, but he doesn’t know what to do. One of his coworkers mentions that there was a life coach that was a huge hit with the kids that didn’t do community study last year, so maybe he’d also be great for a larger audience. The principal basically thinks “okay, what the hell” and calls up and hires Jason C. Jean to come talk to the kids.

Now, it’s like, 10:30, maybe 11:00 in the morning, and two entire grades are getting shepherded to the main gymnasium, and no one wants to God damn be there. We ain’t got time for self esteem talks. We want to sleep. And this guy, watching us all drag our feet in and collapse into the bleachers was just like…offensively peppy. There’s a couple faculty members sitting behind him, the woman who suggested he be hired for this, the vice principals for the grades- but the principal himself kept getting calls so he was in and out the whole time.

Now, Mr. Jean was like…the chill “Just call me by my first name dude” history professor at college times 30. He was trying so fucking hard. I’m referring to him as ‘Mr. Jean’ in this story just to be disrespectful. So anyway, we all get in there, and he tells us right off the bat “You guys are totally allowed to be on your phones and laptops during this! I get it! It’s no problem, like really, I insist!” so while the faculty members are exchanging smiles that read ‘how do we kill that while respecting him’, all the kids are immediately pulling out their electronics and he’s starts his speech.

Now, again, I really wanna reiterate that he told us we could be on our phones- because when the news articles started coming out about this, I remember all these angry, annoying comments from old people like “Why the hell were the students on their phones in the first place! So disrespectful! These damn millennials and their social media!” like, they were completely ignoring the entire story and just focusing in on kids using the internet, and it Really Super Pissed Me Off, so. Again, we had permission for this (which also ended up being Mr. Jean’s fatal mistake).

So, he starts off this speech fairly normally, like ‘hi, I’m Jason, I’m a professional life coach and I wanna teach you kids about how to be The Best You!’ and like people were tuning him out and listening to varying degrees. Some kids (like myself) were kinda dozing off, and everyone was on twitter or facebook.

His approach to a self esteem speech seemed to be ‘let me tell you my entire life story for hours’ and like, at first I was like “I’m not really hearing this, I’m half dreaming right now” but the more I started making myself pay attention the more…bizarre and rambling his story got.

So like, for instance, he told us he drank a lot in high school. Like, a lot. But he didn’t use that as a ‘don’t drink or party too hard’ lesson, instead he was like “I was fourteen so I always called my parents to pick me up, and they weren’t mad because they knew it meant I could trust them. So remember, always tell your parents when you’re drinking!” and then it kinda got to a point where it sounded like he was encouraging partying and drinking and the like to the group of underage kids.

And then, he told us how he used to play baseball all the time when he was a kid, and at 16 reached a crossroads in his life where the Phillies wanted to draft him or he could go play football for Penn State. And he said he went with Penn State but later lost the scholarship for some reason and we’re like…really.

There was absolutely nothing coherent about anything he was saying- nothing that tied anything together, made a point, seemed like it had anything to do with an assembly on self esteem. He told us at one point he was making upwards of 7 million a year. He told us one time before college he was homeless. He told us he used to own a construction company and built his own branch of nightclubs himself, that he and his friend then ran. He told us he fought a shark and came out with no scars. He told us that he had less money now, because after surviving a work related accident- direct quote- “I fell almost 30 feet and I broke in half” - he decided to leave that industry and spend more time with his family.

So, yeah, I was pretty positive this was bullshit, but there were clearly kids in the room that were falling for it. But then he said something like…he and his friend got bored one day and started jarring up their own pasta sauce, and made a deal with wegmans or some store like that to start selling it, and now he has a pasta sauce empire. Like he spent 15 fucking minutes on this. The way he kept saying ‘pasta sauce’ was so annoying I was about to claw my ears out. But anyway, two girls in my grade wanted to find out what brand he was talking about, so they googled his name.

And then quietly gasped.

And then furiously started typing into their phones.

And remember- everyone, even though they were paying attention- was on twitter and facebook. All the sudden I see heads flying up and wide eyes and people whispering to each other. Mr. Jean doesn’t seem to notice the change and keeps rambling on, but I know something happened so I google him too and-

Okay so basically he’s 1) been arrested, 2) filed for bankruptcy like three times and 3) has been hailed as a ‘Swinger Guru’ by playboy.


So by now, this is a fucking game- he still doesn’t notice anything wrong amongst the kids, so we’re all silently texting each other to fill each other in. Pulling up receipts. But still playing the part of politely intrigued audience members. The school faculty have no fucking idea what’s going on, until one of the students texts her mom, who happens to be the woman that convinced the principal to hire this guy. We see her check her phone, go wide-eyed, and she runs out of the fucking room presumably to either find the principal or hide in terror.

So Mr. Jean had been talking to random people intermittently throughout this speech, but we reach the ‘questions’ part of it. Everyone seems to silently agree that instead of just asking him anything outright, we should just see how good of a liar he was. So they’d be asking him stuff like ‘how much money did you make with ____ company’ and he’d give a ridiculously high number as people were sending each other reports of him filing for bankruptcy during that time. Or they asked him about his construction business which he said was great, and while he was talking about how great it was we were all reading his arrest report, from when a woman hired him to build her house, and he took her money and then like…just didn’t build anything. Wild. Someone asked him about his family and he’s extolling Christian virtues while we’re all on the website for his annual Swing Fest. People would ask him how he got certain jobs and he was making promises to hook kids up in interviews and shit. Everyone was loosing their God damn minds online and just barely holding it together in person. This man was so beyond full of shit- like, he was a God awful life coach but his dedication to lying was inspirational.

We eventually get to leave and everyone is yelling and cracking up and freaking out, all running to our classes to tell the teachers and the underclassmen everything, and the teachers are freaking out, alternating between horrified confusion and laughing hysterically. Before the school day even ended, someone had called a bunch of news stations. The principal was freaking out and denying he had anything to do with it, before calling some students to his office to see what exactly the kids had searched up on the guy…Because apparently teenagers can perform better background checks than school officials. It was all anyone could talk about for weeks.

A couple months after this, for my theater class’ showcase, I wrote and directed a skit called ‘Mason B. Mean’. It was a huge hit. The principal was in the audience. I’ve never seen a grown man look so dead inside. I made sure I was out of the room before he came up to congratulate the cast and everything. The next day, my theater teacher told me his only comment about the skit was a quiet, long-suffering “Why.” 😂😂

Annnnnnnnd that’s the time a Swinger Entrepreneur rambled on about pasta sauce and money in front of teenagers who knew how to use google for almost two hours.  


Advice I wish I got told while my heart was breaking.
1- Stop pretending like you’re happy all over social media just because you think he’s going to see it, you don’t have to prove yourself to anyone.
2- Please don’t keep letting strange boys into your bedroom, they will not make you forget him, maybe temporarily but when the lights are off and you’re all alone, the ache will be back and it’s only going to come on stronger.
3- Learn to survive alone, you only need your own self stop depending on others to make you happy.
4- Stop checking on his Facebook page, he hasn’t posted anything new.
5- He isn’t going to text you, leave the house without your phone every once and awhile instead of gripping it so hard in your hand waiting desperately with agony for him to miss you.
6- It’s okay to cry. You’re not pathetic for still being stuck on him, it only makes you human.
7- Write, write until your wrist is aching, find peace within the ink and paper share your thoughts freely until your heart is throbbing, write his name over and over, explain how angry you are, burn it, tear it up. You have every right to be mad, as long as you’re not taking it out on yourself.
8- Learn to do you, use this time of freedom to explore yourself, find out who you truly are. Give yourself time to breathe, you owe it to yourself.
9- Wing your eyeliner, wear that dress, look at yourself in the mirror and repeat “I deserve to be loved, I am here and that is enough” over and over, memorise it, yell it, sync it far into your mind, remind yourself there is only one you and there is nobody who can replace that.
10- Smile more, laugh until your lungs hurt, sing so loud your throat starts to dry out, dance in front of the mirror, treat yourself, take chances don’t be embarrassed to be yourself.
11- Break something, scream, your feelings are valid and it’s okay to explode sometimes.
12- Stop looking at photos of her, stop comparing yourself to her and beating yourself up because your beauty is different to hers, stop despising yourself for having shorter hair or a different body shape, it wouldn’t change the reality that he’s with her now, so don’t waste your precious energy wasting away at the thought of him and her.
13- Take your broken pieces and build a fucking castle, don’t let them knock you down, you are stronger than them.
14- Just because he stopped loving you doesn’t mean you have permission to do the same, you are worthy of all the love in the world and you deserve no less, don’t let him leaving determine your worth. You are loved and you deserve to be here, don’t let them convince you of the opposite.
—  B.L letters I never sent
Six Nights (Stiles Stilinski imagine)

Prompt: “We live on the same floor and the dorm between ours always has REALLY loud sex so now we’re both in the main lounge at two am do you want this last bite of ice cream?” aka the college AU that grew legs and went for a walk. 

Warnings: only a few minor curses

Word Count: 5k

A/N: University AUs are a favourite of mine and this prompt was too good to ignore. It was supposed to be short, but as you can see, I got a little carried away… I hope you like it! :)

(Allison is alive because fuck Jeff Davis.)

Originally posted by ohsadagnes


The first night, you were woken by the sound of a headboard banging against a wall. You tried turning over and burying your head in the pillows, but the loud noise just persisted until you were left completely conscious.

Groaning, you sat up. After glancing at your phone and discovering it was only a little after 1am, you swung your legs from the bed and pulled on a large hoodie. You debated knocking on your neighbour’s apartment, but decided against it - just because you weren’t getting any, it didn’t mean you had to ruin their fun.

After slipping on a pair of shoes, you grabbed your laptop and decided to go for a little walk. As tempting as staying in bed sounded, you really didn’t want to have to listen to your neighbours having sex, and there were other things you could be doing.

The corridors were desolate, students behind each closed door, undoubtedly busy with things like sleeping or studying. Seeing as your dorm building had a communal lounge, you headed in that direction and quickly set up camp at a small table in the back corner. You dumped your laptop on the desk and made use of the drinks machine to fix yourself up with a hot chocolate before going back at your table and beginning to browse the internet.

You didn’t have a plan, per say, but reckoned your neighbour wouldn’t take more than half an hour to…finish. You would just stay in the lounge for that long, reply to a few emails, scroll through out-dated social media, relax. You’d had a busy week and having a little time to catch up online didn’t sound so bad.

As time began to slip by, you became less and less aware of those around you. The night grew darker and the lounge grew quieter, people draining out until you were almost completely alone.

Absorbed in your laptop’s luminescent screen, you gasped loudly when a photo of one of your friends getting proposed to appeared on your feed, completely unable to contain the surprised exclamation. You slammed the mug on the table, pulling out your phone and immediately going to call her. You couldn’t believe she’d forgotten to tell you - you’d known Allison for years, and she’d just, what? forgotten to inform you of her engagement? It was completely unacceptable.

“Answer, goddamnit!” You growled, glaring at your phone when it went straight to voicemail. You were beginning to construct an angry - yet supportive - text message when a voice cut through the air.

“Y’know, people don’t normally answer their phones at,” the stranger paused, presumably checking the time, “2am.”

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college boyfriend!minghao;

Originally posted by mountean

  • bless the cutie that requested animal shelter volunteer minghao, i ended up meshing it with another request for college bf!minghao bc i can do whatever i want
  • sfklasjd jk jk
  • now, minghao has always had a strong connection with animals
  • ever since he was a kid, he always just had this intense empathy for animals, so much so that it kind of drove his parents crazy???
  • like minghao would grieve for hours if he accidentally stepped on a bug, or he’d take a whole hour out of his morning when he knows he has to get to school just to help a momma dog and her pups get somewhere safe away from traffic
  • i mean the boy just loves animals to death
  • loves them more than humans tbh
  • so it’s no surprise that minghao became an avid animal shelter volunteer from high school well into his college career

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Tbt Hannigram social media updates during their one year anniversary! I just went with the US air date of wotl + 1 year. As expected, Hannibal is all about traditional celebrations while Will likes to pretend he isn’t stupidly in love, nope, not at all, even as he posts a picture of their afterglow on his neglected Instagram (sharing it on Facebook where he has reached a staggering total of 10 friends, all of which want Hannibal thrown off a cliff). They probably celebrated more like this after doing all these Normal Couple Things.

I got this idea after seeing this super adorable funny post by @byk23. It’s canon as far as I’m concerned.

anonymous asked:

Prompt because I can never have enough angst in my life: Elorcan modern AU where they get in a fight and one of them leaves the house with hurtful words thrown at each other, one of them is severely injured somehow?? Idk really

This was only supposed to be like 1,000 words, oooooooooops.


“I just don’t understand why you’re so angry! I didn’t do anything!”
Elide and Lorcan were in the kitchen of his small apartment, the latter leaning on the counter with his arms crossed across his chest, while the former had her thin arms braced on the table.
“Oh, please,” he spat at her. “This Luca guy wouldn’t continually ask you out for no reason. You’ve never even told him about me, have you?”
“Of course I have, Lorcan!” She said, spinning around to look at him. Her arms fell to her sides helplessly. “Every time he asks me to hang out after work, I politely tell him no, because I have you.”
He growled, “Maybe I need to tell him, and not so politely.”
“What were you even doing there?” She asked.
Lorcan ran a frustrated hand through his long hair. “What? Am I not allowed to visit you at your job?”
“You are,” she sighed, “But you kind of ambushed me.”
“Ambushed you?” He asked, his voice raising. “I was trying to surprise you! I was-.”
Cutting him off, she asked incredulously, “Were you checking up on me?”
“For the last time, NO!” He roared. “I just wanted to come surprise you. But then I walk up and I see that asshole had his hand on your arm and then you, you actually touched his chest! And I hear him telling you about how he’ll take ‘good care of you’ at the party on Friday night? What party, Elide? Huh?” A humorless laugh left his mouth. “On second thought, maybe I do need to check up on you at work.”
“I’m not a child, Lorcan.”
“You could’ve fooled me.”
“And,” she said, ignoring his comment, “you don’t own me.”
With his long legs, it only took three steps until he was standing directly in front of her, towering down over her small frame. He grasped her left hand and held it up, letting the light catch on the diamond ring encircling her finger. “Do you see this, Elide? It means that you are mine, and only mine. You are not my possession, but you are mine, to protect, to care for, to love.” He let go and her hand dropped limply to her side. Turning around he walked to the fridge and opened it, grabbing a beer and popping its lid off.
“Baby, I-.”
“Just get out, Elide,” he cut her off, not turning around to look at her. “Go home. I need to…think about some things.”
Her breath caught in her throat. He’d never asked her to leave. In all the years they’d been together, they always worked their fights out. “Lorcan-.”
“Get out.” He growled.
Breathlessly, voice shaking, she asked, “What do you need to think about?”
“Leave, Elide. Now”
Silently, Elide grabbed her keys off of the counter and her purse from the kitchen table. She walked to the door and with a hand on the knob, called to him, “I love you.”
Nothing but silence answered her from the kitchen.
Lorcan knew he had overreacted.
He knew he was an ass and that he should never have asked her to leave. He didn’t need to think about shit. He loved Elide Lochan, and she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. The happiest day of his life was the day she had agreed to marry him.
This Luca prick at work was going to have to stop though. He texted her non stop and apparently had been asking Elide out every week without fail. He may need to make a stop in on Elide’s next day off.
For the thousandth time that night, he rolled over and looked at her empty side of the bed. By now, her inky black hair would be draped across her pillow. Her clothes would be in a heap at the end of the bed. Her small frame would be curled up against his. He ran an exasperated hand down his face.
He fucked up and he knew it. He rolled over and picked his phone up off the nightstand. She hadn’t texted him even once, hadn’t called him. He expected that she would’ve texted as soon as she got home, but she must have been pretty upset with him. She hadn’t tweeted or posted on Facebook or anything, which led him to believe she fell asleep as soon as she walked in the door.
He could hear her cries in his head and he felt like a piece of shit for causing her pain. Swallowing his pride, he sent her a text.
“I’m sorry. I’m a jealous ass, but I love you more than my own life. Call me in the morning. I love you so much.”
He watched the little, blue bubble send off and waited for it to read “Delivered” underneath. Hell, maybe he’d get lucky and it would show up as “Read”. If it did, he’d call her. He’d blow her phone up until she answered and he’d apologize for being the piece of shit fiancé that he was.
But it never delivered. The blue bubble turned green as it sent as an old school text message. Lorcan’s eyebrows rose and he decided to call her, to see if he could fix this now. It immediately went to voicemail. Her phone must have died.
Sighing, he rolled over and put his phone back on the nightstand. He’d fix this in the morning. He’d go see her in the morning and he’d make everything right. But first, he needed to get some sleep.
There was a pounding on his door. Lorcan sat up and jumped out of bed, grabbing the 9mm he kept on his nightstand, next to his badge. The banging continued. A look at the clock on its surface told him it was just after two in the morning.
Popping the safety off and loading one in the chamber, Lorcan crept through his apartment until he got to the door, where the pounding was still happening. A glance at the peephole had him groaning and setting his gun on the small table Elide had distressed and placed by the doorway. He swung open the door to reveal his partner dressed in his blue uniform. “What the hell are you doing here, Whitethorn? It’s two in the gods damned morning.”
“Lorcan, we need to go, now.”
Immediately, Lorcan was on red alert.
“What are you talking about?”
The man in front of him, the man he’d known his whole life and worked with on the force for over 4 years, that was pain in his pine green eyes. Pain and pity.
“It’s Elide.” His heart stopped. “Lorcan, there’s been an accident.”
Rowan was just starting his overnight patrol when he got a call over his radio about an accident involving an overturned vehicle on South Terrasen Rd, headed towards Adarlan. Since he had just made a stop nearby, he radioed that he was close and turned on his lights.
As he approached the accident, he turned his spotlight on and his heart dropped into his stomach.
An extremely familiar car was wrapped around a tree, upside down.
Rowan had pulled over friends and family members in his 4 years with the Erilea Police Department. He’d had to arrest former classmates and people that he knew. He’d even had to escort funerals of people he’d known his entire life. He’d never had a problem putting on the mask that made him “Officer Whitethorn” and staying professional. Until tonight.
He jumped out of his patrol car, screaming, “Elide?!”
He sprinted towards the wreckage, calling her name, listening for her to reply. He heard nothing.
Grabbing his radio at his shoulder, he called out, “This is Officer Whitethorn, I need paramedics to the accident on South Terrasen ASAP.”
He reached the car, just as his radio went off. “How many passengers?”
He got on his hands and knees to look into the car and almost vomited due to the fear coursing through his veins.
Elide was hanging from her seat, held in by her seatbelt, thank the gods. However, her arm was crushed between her body and the door. It was twisted at an unnatural angle and he could see a bone piercing through her forearm. Blood was trickling from her head, originating from a wound he couldn’t see in her hair. She was unconscious. And he couldn’t tell if she was breathing.
He radioed back to the dispatcher, “One female passenger, I can’t tell if she’s unconscious or de-.” His voice broke. “Deceased.”
The radio clicked back. “Standby.”
Grabbing at his shoulder, he called back, “Dispatch, I’m going to attempt to remove her.”
Silence met him.
“Officer Whitethorn, wait for assistance. Erilea Fire is on the way and-.”
“The passenger is Officer Salvaterre’s fiancée.”
More silence. A new voice came through the radio.
“Are you positive it’s Elide?” The usually confident voice was shaking.
“It’s- it’s her, Manon,” he said, wiping the sweat that was starting to appear on his brow.
“Did you say deceased?”
He closed his eyes. “I- I can’t tell, she’s not in good shape, and I-.” He paused and had to collect himself.
“Get her out of that gods damned car, Rowan. I’m calling Aelin.”
He took that as permission and sat on the ground, leaning back on his hands. With Elide unconscious, he didn’t have to warn her to look away. Pressing his boots against the passenger window, he brought his legs back and smashed his feet into glass. It shattered, sending shards everywhere in the car. Elide didn’t so much as twitch.
“Elide?” He called out, hoping just maybe she would hear him and wake up.
Crawling into the wreckage, he reached a shaking hand to her neck and felt for a pulse.
He waited, his body going cold.
There. There it was.
It was weak, so faint that he could barely feel it.
“Manon!” He called over his radio.
“Go, Whitethorn,” Asterin’s voice called back.
“She’s alive, but she’s fading fast.”
A silent pause met him. “An ambulance is close, less than a mile away. Can she hold on that long?”
“I don’t know,” he replied. “I haven’t even gotten her out of the car yet. I just got her pulse.”
“Continue on, keep us updated.”
Elide’s left arm was crushed by the door, her right hanging below her body. He had to do this carefully. One wrong move and she would fall from her seat and that could be it. He ran a finger along the seatbelt, and that’s when he noticed blood on her abdomen.
A shard of metal from her mangled door was jutting directly into her side.
“I can’t get her out,” he said into the radio. “She has a laceration on her left side. Wreckage and shrapnel. I don’t know if it’s hit anything major. I can’t risk cutting her down without an ambulance here.”
Manon’s clear voice called back to him. “It’s almost to you. Asterin is tracking them. The EFD should be pulling up any second.”
Rowan did the only thing he could think to do. He took Elide’s limp hand in his own and prayed. He prayed to every god and goddess he could think of, regardless of what they were the deity of. After a moment, he heard approaching sirens and crawled out of the car.
The engine parked and men jumped out. In the darkness, they all looked the same and he couldn’t point a single one out until he heard “Whitethorn!”
Running over to the Captain, he passed the other men and relayed the information he’d discovered to them. As he approached, Chaol grabbed his arm. “Is it really Elide?”
Rowan ran a hand through his silver hair. “Yeah, it is. It’s not good, man.”
“Have you called Aelin?” Chaol asked.
He shook his head. “No, Manon said she would. I need to let Lorcan know though.”
Chaol’s chestnut eyes were somber. “Go. Fenrys and Gavriel are on their way.” An ambulance was pulling up and a second patrol car was behind it. “Get out of here. I’ll call you if anything changes.”
Rowan clapped the man on the shoulder and ran to his patrol car. Getting in, he dialed the number of his oldest friend, trying to figure out how he was going to tell him what had happened. He didn’t answer. Hanging up, he dialed him again. No answer. He left a voicemail.
“Man, I need you to answer or call me back immediately, it’s an emergency.”
He sent him a quick text saying the exact same thing.
Turning the car on, he tried to dial him one more time. As he pulled away from the accident, glancing at it in his rear view mirror, he sent up one last to prayer to anyone who was listening.
By the time Rowan and Lorcan pulled up to the hospital, Manon had called Rowan, letting him know they’d had to cut Elide from car. They’d taken her to the hospital and she’d gone immediately into surgery. Not only had her arm been destroyed, but there was bleeding and swelling on her brain and her common iliac artery had been severed by the wreckage.
Lorcan hadn’t said a single word since Rowan appeared at his door and he wasn’t about to push his friend to speak. Had the roles been reversed, Rowan didn’t know what he would’ve done.
They sat in a silent waiting room, as one by one their friends filed in, in various states of emotion. Aelin and Lysandra were barely holding it together, where Manon was a stone wall of strength, the only indication of her fear being the vice grip she had on Dorian’s hand.
Lorcan’s elbows were braced on his knees, his hands knotted into his long, black hair. Every now and then, his friends would hear a quiet sniff come from him, but for the most part, he was a shell of his normal, sarcastic self.
Bits of every conversation floated over to him.
“When did it happen?”
“I wonder where she was going.”
“She got off work at 10:30, I don’t know why she was out so late.”
“Why wasn’t she at home?”
“Because of me,” he whispered, and the waiting room went silent.
“What?” Aedion asked, Lysandra’s hand held tightly in his own.
“She wasn’t at home because of me,” he said again, dragging a hand through his dark hair and tying it in a knot at the back of his head. Faint tracks could be seen from tears that had slipped down his face. “We- We had a fight. It was stupid.” He pulled his hand over his face, wiping the tears away, sniffing. “I told her to get out. I made her leave. And now…” He trailed off, and the warrior broke down. No one had ever seen Lorcan cry. Elide was the only who had ever been able to break down his walls.
Manon stood up, taking careful steps across the waiting room, and stopped in front of the broken man. He glanced up at her.
And a silver tipped hand smacked across his face.
The waiting room erupted into chaos. Dorian pulled Manon back across the room as she started to yell at Lorcan, who just sat there, blood pooling from the thin scratches she’d left on his face. Aelin stood up and got in Manon’s face, Rowan quickly grabbing at her to pull her back to her seat. Aedion, Lysandra and Asterin stood back ready to grab someone and drag them out if need be.
“Excuse me?!”
The group of friends silenced and found a stoic man standing by the entryway to the OR, wearing scrubs.
“Which one of you is Mr. Salvaterre?”
Lorcan’s head snapped back up and he stood. “I am.”
“I need to speak with you.” With that, he walked towards the desk, away from the group.
Lorcan watched him walk away and felt a small hand squeeze his own. He looked over to Aelin and nodded, before following the doctor.
“How is she?” He asked, stopping in front of the man.
“I’m Dr. Emrys Mistland. I’m the chief operating physician tonight.” He held out a hand.
Lorcan took his hand and shook it but didn’t say a word, waiting for the man to answer his question.
“Sir, were you aware that your fiancée was 7 weeks pregnant?”
Lorcan felt like he’d been punched in the gut.
“She was pregnant?” He stopped. “Wait, was?”
The old man looked at him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m afraid there wasn’t much we could do, with it being that early. We had to make the decision to focus on Elide.”
“Is she okay?” Lorcan asked. “Is she awake? Can I see her? Can I talk to her?”
Dr. Mistland gave him a sad look. “I’m afraid there’s a chance that Ms. Lochan won’t wake up. Not for a while, at least.”
The world was falling out from under Lorcan. He was going numb. He listened to the doctor, as he explained Elide’s multitude of injuries, and how they’d stabilized her, but he only heard parts of what the man was saying.
His Elide. His fiancée. The mother of his unborn child. When she’d left, she’d told him she loved him and he didn’t say it back.
And now he might never have the chance.
Four days. It had been four days since he walked into this hospital at 2:30 in the morning. Lorcan hadn’t left once.
Aelin and Manon and even Aedion had offered to stay so he could go home and shower, so he could get some good sleep.
“I’m not leaving her,” was his response every time.
Everyone had come to see her by this point, and with every passing day, more and more flowers were piling up. Cards were dropped off. Through out it all, Lorcan never left her side, never let go of her hand for more than a few minutes.
He cradled her left hand so carefully, running his thumb over the empty spot on her finger. His other hand reached up and fingered the mangled engagement ring he had slipped onto his necklace.
Standing, he brushed her dark hair back and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. He headed down to the cafeteria to get a cup of coffee. He called Rowan to let Aelin know there’d been no change this morning when the nurses came in to check her vitals. Making his way back down the hall, he noticed the door to Elide’s room was cracked open. He knew he had shut it when he had left.
Quietly easing the door open, he found a man in his early twenties looking over Elide’s flowers at the window, his back to Lorcan. As he stepped inside, the door creaked and then man whirled, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a card in the other.
“Can I help you?” Lorcan asked, instantly going on his guard.
“I, uhm,” the younger man stammered. “I work with Elide. Everyone wanted me to come drop this off.” He held up the card, and set it on the table with all of her flowers, cards and other gifts.
“And those?” Lorcan asked, indicating the flowers.
“I wanted to drop them off,” he said, blushing. “Are you her brother?”
Lorcan was seeing red. This was him. This man was the cause of the whole situation they were in right now. If he would’ve just taken no for an answer the first time, the fight never would have happened, and he never would have asked Elide to leave that night. She never would have wrecked. They never would have lost their baby.
In a clipped tone, he said, “I’m her fiancé.”
The color bleached from Luca’s face. “Her fiancé? She wasn’t kidding?” He took a step back, away from the man who was almost a foot taller than him. “I thought that was just something she was saying, I never thought she meant it.”
Lorcan closed his eyes. He took a few deep breaths. There was nothing that he wanted more than to beat the hell out of the kid standing in front of him, but taking the high road, he said, “I think you need to leave.”
“I- Uh.” He looked up into Lorcan’s murderous eyes. “Okay.”
Without another word, he dropped the flowers on his chair and left the room.
Making his way back over to the chair, he picked the flowers up and carried them across the room, dropping them into the trash can next to the bathroom door.
“Surprised you didn’t beat his ass…”
He spun around and saw Elide’s dark eyes were opened slightly.
“Elide,” he said, his voice cracking, and he ran to her. He carefully placed a hand on either side of her face, resting his forehead against hers. “I thought I lost you,” he cried.
“Not that easily,” she said, so quietly he could barely hear her.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so gods damned sorry, Elide. I never should have told you to leave.”
“You did nothing wrong,” she rasped, her good hand coming up to weakly grip his wrist, her thumb stroking the skin there.
“I love you so much,” he said, unable to stop the tears at last. “When I found out what happened, the only thing I could think of was the fact that you told me you loved me when you left and I didn’t say it back, and I would never get to tell you how much I loved you again.”
“I wouldn’t mind being reminded a little more often,” she joked, and he barked out a broken laugh.
“Every single day,” he promised. “Every single hour, every single minute. I’ll make sure you know just how much I love you.”
And for the rest of their days, he would.

hes rlly awkward and stiff cos his clothes are kinda too small and he always wants to fidget bounce pick n shit so he has to think about keeping his hands at his sides and it looks so uncomfortable lmfao i wanna give him some cool indie tats and hes deff got a wild side, but, you gotta work to get it out of him lmao

he lowkey totally knows how to ride a motorcycle??? from when he was younger. he likes netflix and lives off starbucks and is basically just. ykno. ur modern day anxious dweeb who dresses like he raided his dads closet but is too tall to fit any of his clothes and always makes self deprecating jokes about how hes like a middle aged white woman cos he likes wine and facebook memes. he was totally a grungy late teen in the nineties and misses bein that way but feels like hes gotta Be An Adult™. etc etc more character explanations.

what an awful muse. i love him.

do not tag as kin.

You Left Your USB Plugged into a Computer in the Lab AU

“No mom I can’t skype tonight I… have plans,” Davey pulled his jacket tighter around himself, regretting having forgotten his mittens at home. The winter wind was whipping around him and his mom had chosen the most inopportune time to call and check up on him on a Friday night.

“What’s that sound? Is that the wind? Are you actually outside? You really are going somewhere!” She sounded thrilled that Davey might finally have made a friend to do something with besides his roommate. Not that she didn’t love Crutchie, but he preferred to stay in, especially in the winter when it was tougher for him to get around on his fake leg that never quite fit into a good pair of winter boots. Davey didn’t have the heart to tell her that the only reason he had left the safety of their dorm was because his Wi-Fi wasn’t working and he needed to work on a research paper.

“I can call you back later when I get home-” Davey began but his mom interrupted quickly.

“No don’t! Stay out as late as you want! Get into trouble, get arrested, make memories!” She said her goodbyes and hung up, like she was trying to get off the phone before Davey changed his mind and went back to watching Food Network with Crutchie. Davey breathed a sigh of relief as he finally got to the computer lab, taking quick, short steps across the ice and bursting through the door, desperate to soak in the heat.

His fingers were still defrosting as he booted up one of the computers, blowing hot air on his red skin and trying to regain some feeling in them. He dug through his backpack until he found his USB and went to jam it into the computer, stopping short when he saw another already plugged in. His blood pressure immediately began to rise, thinking about what a disaster it would be if he would’ve been the one to leave electronic academic life behind and vowed to get a pull cord so that he could attach his USB to his belt loops.

Hoping to find some indication of who this belonged to, he opened the files saved on the drive. Davey was horrified by the organizational structure, or rather lack thereof. Most of the files were all jumbled together with names like “1.png” and “new.jpeg”. There were only two folders that served as the extent of this heathen’s organizational abilities. The first was labeled “college”, and Davey opened it to find a mess more horrifying than the last, every document labeled only by the course code and a letter or number to make them different from each other. He felt his forehead beginning to sweat and resisted the urge to start organizing the files and instead checked out the other folder. This one was labeled “Etsy Orders” and was the only place where there was some semblance of neatness. Each file was labeled with someone’s name and appeared to be a combination of a request, a payment invoice, and a piece of artwork. Davey started clicking through the art pieces and was immediately taken aback - this human disaster was this good of an artist? Good enough to sell pieces online?

He clicked into the most recent file, and opened the order request. There was a note about customization of piece addressed to Jack Kelly, who he assumed was the owner of this lost piece of hardware. The payment invoice in the same folder led him to Jack’s etsy store name, which he quickly located. It was surprisingly popular and offered hundreds of different prints available for sale, as well as a “Contact Me" section where customers could request custom pieces. Davey opened the link to send the artist an email and quickly wrote to him about finding his USB in the computer lab on campus, including his phone number so Jack could contact him about returning it.

Davey went back to his paper and tried to push the artist from his mind. Sure his pieces were beautiful, but lots of people could draw, and who knows if Jack had even drawn the pieces himself, he could’ve stolen them from the internet or…

His train of thought was interrupted by his phone ringing loudly in the silent computer lab because seriously what kind of loser would be working on homework in the lab at 9:00 PM on a Friday night. Davey tried to tell himself it could wait until he was finished with his homework, but then he thought it might be Jack responding about his USB and he should probably check.

Sure enough there was a new message from an unknown number.

“Hi Davey, this is Jack, the complete idiot who left his USB in the campus lab. You have no idea how much you saved my life finding me like this. Is there any chance you’re still in the lab? I could come grab it from you now so you don’t have to hang onto it. If not, I’m free all weekend if you wanted to let me buy you a cup of coffee to express my eternal gratitude.”

Davey felt heat rising in his cheeks. He told himself to calm down, he didn’t even know what this guy looked like, or anything about him really. It was much too soon to be thinking about a repeat coffee date or how Jack could hand-design their wedding invites…

He shook his head to clear away the thoughts of Jack’s apartment - a studio flat with walls papered with art prints, every available surface covered in paints and pencils. He started to reply that he would be in the lab for another hour or two, then changed his mind - it wouldn’t hurt to bend the truth just a little

“Hi Jack, I’m so glad I got into contact with you! Unfortunately I saw your USB just as I was leaving the lab, but I could meet you tomorrow to give it back, around 10? Let me know.’

Jack responded almost immediately: “Perfect! I’ll meet you then at Mugs!”

Davey smiled, his head buzzing with thoughts of chatting with Jack in the campus coffee shop the next morning. He tried to get back into the right mindset to do his homework, but the minutes kept slipping by while he made absolutely no progress. He decided his homework could wait until tomorrow, he was working ahead anyway and hopefully the Wi-Fi would be working by then, and if he left now hopefully he could catch the end of the Harry Potter movie Crutchie had started before he left

The next morning Davey arrived at the coffee shop half an hour early. He had been up for hours, trying on outfit after outfit until the couch was completely covered in rejects and Crutchie had thrown his pillow at him, sleepily groaning at him to “just pick something and shut the lights off already!” His hair had taken even longer, mussing it up to make it look like he’d just rolled out of bed, then carefully combing it back, then starting over again as he once again changed his mind. Finally he’d given up, deciding that he needed to leave super early because, even though it was only a five minute walk to the campus coffee shop, there could be a line for a table or a sinkhole in the sidewalk or something. It had made sense until he was sitting alone in the nearly-empty lounge area, checking every thirty seconds to make sure he hadn’t forgotten Jack’s USB. As it got closer and closer to 10:00 Davey started to panic that Jack was going to stand him up. And he didn’t even know what Jack looked like! How was he supposed to find him when the morning rush was just starting to roll in…

A hand softly touching his shoulder disrupted him from his thoughts, making him jump a little. “Sorry! Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you! I’m Jack, are you Davey?”

Davey was so lost staring at the beautiful stranger in front of him that he almost forgot to respond, his mouth going dry as his eyes trailed down from Jack’s dark eyes rimmed with long lashes, to his cheeks and strong jawline, still pink from the cold, and down his arm that looked muscled even through his thick sweater to his hand still resting on his shoulder, the fingers a little stained with paint.

“Y-yes! I’m Davey. Hi!” Davey said stupidly, regretting it immediately, but Jack smiled which made Davey’s heart feel like it was growing to a bursting point.

“Hi, it’s great to meet you. I’m not kidding when I say that I owe you my life. Can I grab you a drink?”

“Sure,” Davey said, starting to get up.

“Please let me, I want to feel like I’m doing something to make this up to you. What’s your poison?”

“Peppermint Mocha, please.” Jack grinned, giving Davey a thumbs up before turning to get in line, his cheeks going a little red like he wished he wouldn’t have done that, but Davey thought it was adorable. Then again, Jack probably could’ve spilled an entire pot of coffee on Davey’s head and he still would’ve found it endearing.

Davey gave himself an internal pep talk, telling himself to calm the fuck down before Jack came back, because they were about to add hot liquid to this equation and he always got clumsy when he was nervous.

Jack returned with two steaming cups of coffee, very carefully setting them down before taking a seat across from Davey. “You really have no idea how much I owe you for this. I could buy all your coffee for the rest of your life and still be indebted to you.”

Davey laughed, taking a sip of his drink and trying not to react when it burned his tongue. “Well I looked through it a little when I found it, trying to figure out who it belonged to. The art pieces on there were incredible, I almost kept it.”

Jack blushed, ducking his head behind his mug. “It’s just a hobby, but people seem to like them, so I try to sell prints for a little extra money, a guy has to put himself through college after all.”

“Well I’m going to have to place a few orders,” Davey said, stirring his drink and waiting for it to cool off a little.

“Oh please, you can have any prints you want for free, I would’ve lost all of them if it wasn’t for you.”

“I’m sure someone would’ve returned it to you. Which reminds me, how did you know it was me when you came in?”

Jack’s face got redder as he mumbled “I might’ve looked you up on Facebook.” Davey laughed, wishing he’d had the same thought.

The two of them stayed for more than an hour, chatting about their classes and plans for Christmas break and how they couldn’t believe it was almost the end of the semester already. Eventually the coffee shop started to get crowded with students looking for a quiet place to study.

“We should probably forfeit our table,” Davey remarked, looking around at the line of people out the door eyeing up their empty mugs.

“Oh… yeah you’re probably right. Time really flies when you’re having fun!” Jack sounded a little disappointed as he grabbed their mugs and took them back to the counter, waiting for Davey to put on his jacket and following him out the door.

“Can’t forget this!” Davey handed Jack his flash drive and Jack looked horrified.

“Oh my god! I almost forgot it again!” Jack hit the heel of his hand against his forehead and took the USB. “I guess talking to a cute boy will do that to you.”
“A cute… um, a what?” Davey stammered, shifting his weight from foot to foot and trying to keep his head on straight.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, did I totally read this wrong? I just thought that you were… never mind!” Jack started to walk away but Davey caught his elbow.

“No wait! I am! I mean I’m gay, or interested, or whatever. Interested in you!” Davey’s mouth fell open when he realized what he’d said, and how idiotic he sounded. His mind was racing trying to come up with some way to save this when Jack leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

“It was great meeting you, and thank you again for this!” Jack smiled, waving the flash drive a little before turning to walk away. “Call me sometime,” he called over his shoulder.

Davey was floating his whole walk home. He stopped at a picnic table outside his dorm, wanting to enjoy reminiscing alone before he went upstairs to be grilled by Crutchie. He tugged his phone out of his pocket, briefly wondering if it was too soon to be texting Jack already, but decided he didn’t care.

“Hey, about what you said about buying all my coffee for the rest of my life…”

Jack’s reply came a minute later: “Let’s start tomorrow :)”

Clip - “Gratulerer med bussen” (”Congrats on the bus”) - at 12:11, 24.04

(Sana’s searching the web for how to get 300.000 kroner through loans. She gets a message on Facebook.)

Message from Yousef:
I’m hurt because you never answer my meme

Sana replies:
The kids around you are hurt because you’re chatting during work hours

Hah! I’ve got Mondays off. Thought you were smart now

How’s the russ bus coming along?

Great if you tell me how I can earn 300.000 kroner quickly

Sara (off screen): Hi! We uh…heard you got the bus. Congratulations.

Sana: Thank you.

Sara: And…we were wondering about something.

Ingrid: Would you be interested in merging with us?

Sara: See, ‘cause we were thinking..you’re only five. And we’re twenty. And there are twenty-five seats on the bus, so we thought it maybe could be a match?

Sara: And..we know that we haven’t been the world’s best friends, but we don’t quite understand why.

Sana: Because you called Vilde a slut at the Borkis pregame in October 2015.

Sara: Oh. I’d completely forgotten about that, but sorry..for that.

Sana: We’ll merge…on two conditions.

Sara: Okay?

Sana: You pay for the bus. And I’ll be the bus boss.*

Sara: Er..we would have to discuss that with the girls-

Sana: Either we make a deal now, or there’ll be no bus. 

Sara: Yes. Okay. Then we’re in.

Sana: Good! Send me the names of all the people on the bus, and I’ll call in a bus meeting.

Sara: …okay? 

(Noora, Vilde and Eva approach)

Vilde: What did they want, did you speak to them?

Sana: I’ve got news. Where’s Chris?

Eva: In Berlin. What’s up?

Sana: We’ve merged with the PepsiMax squad.

Eva: Are you kidding? 

Vilde: What does that mean?

Sana: It means that they pay for the bus, and I’ll be bus boss.

Vilde: Why are you gonna be bus boss?

Noora: You mean we’re merging with PepsiMax?

Sana: Either we’ll have to merge with the PepsiMax squad, or there’ll be no bus. So we’ll need to have a bus meeting this week. Eva, can you host?

Eva: I can’t host again, like..ever.

Sana: Noora. The flat share?

Noora: Those girls are not entering my apartment.

Sana: Vilde?

Vilde: Er…no mom-

Sana: You mom is not doing a wine evening, Vilde.

Vilde: Why..why can you host for once?

* bus boss - I know it sounds awkward, but to be honest there’s so much russ lingo in Norwegian which simply doesn’t translate to English, so bus boss it is (It’s a literal translation).

Also, Sana is asking Sara and Ingrid to actually prepay or to pay in advance for the bus - it’s an expression we use in Norwegian: “Å legge ut penger” (literal translation: to leave out/place out money) - it means when you pay for somebody and they pay you back at a later time. Right now I can’t seem to remember if there’s a word for that in English.


Michael posted a video on facebook today and Tom got a nice mention, prompted by this fan question!

Q: “Are you and Tom Welling actual enemies?”

Michael: “No dude, I love Welling. I just went to his 40th birthday party at the Houdini House. Harry Houdini. It was a blast. He gave me a big hug. Almost broke me because he’s actually as strong as Superman. I love the guy, dude. I think we’re the closest of anyone else in the cast. He and I…Clark and Lex. Ironically, off camera, we’re definitely the closest I think, out of anybody.”

“Tom Welling’s awesome. He’s great. He looks great. He’s charming as hell. I love him. I’m going to get him on my podcast.”

Supercorp tinder au: Swipe Right for a Super

Lena Luthor matches with Supergirl on tinder and she’s convinced that she’s being catfished.

“Kara, it’ll be fun,” Winn says, already reaching for Kara’s phone.

Kara’s face twists, she likes to think that she has a handle on the majority of Earth’s customs at this point in her life, but she’s never really understood the obsession of online dating. Sure, she supposes that it makes sense in a practical sort of way, but she much prefers to meet people face to face. It’s so much easier for her to figure people out when she can watch their features change and discreetly listen to telltale signs of life.

Starting at a screen doesn’t have quite the same effect.

“I don’t know,” Kara replies, sceptical, but she makes no move to retrieve her phone from Winn’s grasp.

“Come on,” Winn offers once more,  "after today you could use all the fun you can get,” he uses that pleading voice that causes Kara to shake her head, “and so could I.”

For the first time since returning home, Kara allows herself the time to reflect on the events of the day. It had started out just like any other, Kara suiting up and speeding off to some emergency to offer her assistance, but she had been wholly unprepared for the scene that greeted her upon her arrival.

Though, she doesn’t think she’ll ever really be prepared to see her sister under heavy fire. She’d done her best to intervene, but even with her super-speed she still wasn’t fast enough to stop the bullet from grazing Alex’s shoulder.

Alex had brushed off, of course, telling Kara not to worry, that her injury was merely a flesh wound, that she could stitch herself up if she wanted to. It had been enough to pull a smile out of Kara as she flew them back to the DEO.

Even by her standards, she has to admit that it’s been a particularly rough twenty-four hours.

Maybe she could use a little something to take her mind off things.

“Fine,” Kara concedes after receiving another pleading look from Winn that she’s not sure even Alex could resist.


“Winn, I really don’t think this a good idea.”

“Relax, Kara,” Winn can’t help but roll his eyes at the way Kara paces around the room, “I’ve already set it all up, you’ve now got a fake Supergirl Facebook account by the way.” He bumps his shoulder with Kara’s in a futile attempt to draw a smile from her, he knows how exhausted she is and he thought this would be the perfect way to take her mind off Alex for the night. He knows Kara still feels somewhat guilty for not being able to protect her sister and she’d only left her side because Alex had insisted as much. “It’ll be more fun this way,” he promises, “haven’t you always wondered what kind of reaction Supergirl would get?”

Kara imagines that it would be infinitely more intense than kind of reaction that Kara Danvers would receive. “That’s not the point, Winn”

Winn smiles at Kara’s lack of denial, “No one is actually going to think that the real Supergirl is sitting behind the screen, anyway. What harm can it do?” He presses, holding the phone out towards Kara and arching his brow.

She ignores the voice in the back of her hand that tells her just how much harm it can do and takes the phone from an excited-looking Winn.

Kara is quick to get the hang of things work, making sure she’s actually swiping the right way. She rolls her eyes when the one the first profile she sees belongs to Mon-el, “Of course,” she scoffs, swiping her finger hard across the screen and ignoring the way that Winn eyes her curiously.

“Okay,” he breathes, surprised by the way Kara frowns and seethes at the same time, “I’m guessing that one is a no”


“It’s not going to work if you don’t swipe right for anyone,” Winn complains, huffing as he watches Kara swipe left on yet another profile.

“I have,” Kara protests, shielding the phone from Winn’s attempts to grab it.

“That does not count!” Winn says, throwing his hands up in frustration, “It doesn’t,” he reiterates when he sees Kara shrug, “Kara, the only person you’ve swiped right for is me and we both know that’s just because I’m sat right next to you and you’re way too nice.”

When Kara doesn’t say anything, Winn takes his chance, lunging across her and scrambling for the phone. Kara is completely past the point of caring, she doesn’t put up much of a fight as the phone is tugged from her hands.

“Right. Let us see what we’ve got here,” Winn does a quick scan, swiping right on a total of five people despite Kara’s halfhearted protests and child-like sulking.

It’s not until Kara has completely lost count of the number of profiles that Winn has deemed acceptable, that she feels the need to voice her complaints. “Winn!” She chides

“It’s not my fault you’re popular. People really do love Supergirl, you’ve got loads of messages waiting for you.” Winn says unapologetically

Kara doesn’t hesitate to take her phone back, ready to inspect the damage that Winn has caused.

“Seriously, Kara, I know this was just supposed to be a bit of fun but when was the last time you even went on a date?”

If Kara is being honest myself, she knows it’s been a while. In fact, she’s pretty sure that she’d struggle to pinpoint an exact date but in her defence, she’s been kind of busy lately and it’s really difficult to find time for romance in-between her day job and saving the city from rogue aliens. “Does it matter? It’s not like I can date any of these people as Supergirl.”

“No,” Winn agrees, “…but, you can date someone as Kara Danvers,” he continues, adding a tentative jab to Kara’s shoulder for good measure.

Kara shakes her head, that’s been tried and tested and she has more than enough evidence to suggest that it just doesn’t work.

“Seriously, Kara. I’m going to hack your account and start swiping myself if you don’t just pick someone,” Winn whines, he had anticipated this little endeavour entailing a little more excitement than simply watching Kara stare at her phone.

Kara gives a noncommittal hum and proceeds to swipe left on the guy that bears a striking resemblance to her morning barista.

The next profile that appears is a little more enticing and Kara is caught in two minds as to which direction she should go.

She swipes right before she loses her nerve.


Lena is not entirely sure what possessed her to download the app in the first place and she’s even less sure about why she feels the need to browse through a selection of attainable date within her area.

At first, it had seemed like an okay idea, something to take the edge of her busy day. An easy way to find a stranger to pass the time with and provide a much-needed distraction. She certainly doesn’t have the time to go out and meet someone she’s actually interested in, especially when the only thing on her mind is to find someone to use as a form of stress relief.

Preferably with someone who won’t recognise her by her last name, or at the very least, they won’t be put off by it.

She knows the chances are slim.She knows that there’s always going to be something that people want, something that they need. There’s always going to be people asking for a comment on something or other, people are always going to want to know her opinions, especially when aliens are involved.

Lena knows that she’s always going to be tied to her last name no matter how hard she tries to sever herself from the Luthor name and everything it stands for.

She shudders when she stumbles across her secretary’s profile, swiping left as fast as humanly possible. As much as she considers Jess a valuable employee, perhaps the most loyal, she just can’t bring herself to go there. She needs someone forgettable, she needs a face she’s not going to see every morning as she walks to her office and Jess definitely doesn’t fit the bill.

The app soon becomes tiresome and Lena quickly becomes bored with the constant swiping left and the numerous 20-something boys that Tinder keeps suggesting.

She’s not that desperate.

Lena is just about ready to give up and admit defeat in her search for a distraction within this godforsaken city when National City’s very own hero pops up on her screen.

Lena can’t help but let out a little chuckle at the profile because obviously, it’s not really Supergirl. Why on earth would the girl of steel be on tinder?

And Lena knows better than to get sucked in by some middle-aged man masquerading as Supergirl. She really does. But,  she’d been lying if she wasn’t even the least bit curious as to how the stranger is going to explain themselves, or if they even explain themselves at all.

She wonders just how many people have fallen into this trap, how many gullible idiots have swiped right, fully expecting to match with the real Supergirl.

Still, Lena can’t deny that her interest is piqued, even if it is just to see how long the facade will last. In the end that nibbling need to just know, once and for all is what gets the better of her.

Before she can stop herself she’s swiping right.

[Read More]

Harry Styles - Supports Girlfriend Imagine

[I rather like this one! Hope you do as well! Enjoy!]

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anonymous asked:

Can you do a bughead au where they're in their 20s and hiding their relationship? Archie goes over to Betty's and sees male items (shoes, razors, deodorant, shirts etc) neatly placed around Betty's house almost like someone else lives there. Jughead then walks into the house with his own set of keys and archie figures it out


“Ill be home in an hour, I love you.” He whispered against her lips as he lifted his bag from the hook on the door.

“Love you too.” Betty smiled, leaning against the door frame, waving lazily as her boyfriend headed out for his meeting with his publisher. They had made plans on a quiet night at home but an emergency at his cover shoot was pulling him away from his warm bed and his beautiful girlfriend.

He mumbled complaints as he headed out, tucking his head into his hood to avoid the ever present rain.

Betty closed the front door and flopped down on her couch, it was early may and the flower shop she had just bought was booming, she had always been obsessed with flowers, it was her dream to open her own florist shop and now that dream had come true. She was proud and she felt accomplished, it wasn’t what her mother had wanted but with age she had grown out of that perfect girl next door image and was now a successful 25 year old woman living with the love of her life.

As soon as she shut her eyes, she was interrupted by the banging knock on her front door. Rolling her eyes, she smiled. Jughead was always forgetting something. She opened the door with an eyebrow raise

“What is it this…” she was cut off immediately by the sight of the familiar red headed boy she hadn’t seen in four years.

“Archie?” She whispered, shocked to see him at her front door.

“Hey bets.” He shrugged his shoulders and shot her a beaming smile as he gently pushed past her and into her home. He looked the same, same silly strut, same goofy smile.

“ what are you doing here arch? Where have you been? It’s been years.” She stated, crossing her arms over her chest.

He turned to her with a distant look in his eyes
“ I’m back in Riverdale for good, I went off to LA for a bit, tried my hand at music, didn’t work out. I got a job here, I’m gonna be working for dads construction, probably take over. It’s what I was destined for anyway. What about you? I have you on facebook, you’re so secretive. There’s hardly anything on there. Ronnie wouldn’t even add me. What’s up with that?” He looked around her apartment as Betty stood there helplessly “hey can I use your bathroom?” He asked.

Betty just nodded, so much was happening she felt her anxiety building. She couldn’t tell him about her and Jughead, the poor boy had had enough disappointment she didn’t wanna add to it. She looked around frantically, moving to flip Down the pictures of her and Jughead, she pulled down the framed photo of the two of them at his first book launch, and she quickly grabbed the notes he wrote her that she kept laying around the house.

“Betty?” He asked from behind her. She turned sharply, her yellow dress flying behind her
“What’s up with all the dude stuff in your bathroom? Shower gel? Deodorant? There’s even boxers on the floor? You got a boyfriend?… a husband?” His eyes were accusing and he looked… hurt?

“I..” she started before his eyes shot behind her

“Is that… Jugheads beanie?” He practically whispered, darting around her to grab it from the couch.

“Archie listen…”

Her heart was racing and she felt her fingernails dig into her palms, she hadn’t done that since high school.

As if it couldn’t get worse, she heard the click of the front door unlock and she felt her heart in her stomach

“Hey love , my meeting got cancelled halfway there, i swear to god that mans an imbecile. Wanna order….” Jughead stopped mid sentence, his eyes darting between his former best friend and the current love of his life. Assessing the situation quickly he spotted his girlfriends balled fists and Archie’s slack jaw, he moved to Betty’s corner so fast he hardly had time to blink

“Jug? What the hell?! What are you doing here? Do you live here? Are you two…” he trailed off, eyeing the pair in what seemed like disgust

“Together.” Jughead finished. His arm draping over Betty’s shoulder and squeezing
“We’re together. Have been for five years, were happy and if you can’t accept that, you aren’t welcome in our home. You were my best friend Arch, you cut everyone off. You don’t get to be angry.” He practically growled.

Betty nodded against him,
“We didn’t mean to hide anything from you but you haven’t been around, we have a new life now Archie.”

“No one told me, no one even let me know. What about facebook I..” he finished lamely

“That’s not the kind of couple we are, we’re private. You hurt us when you cut us off like that, that’s why Ronnie won’t add you, did you know she’s married? Pregnant too.” Betty said simply, squeezing closer to Jughead.

“What? She’s.. to who?” He was defeated now, maybe he thought everything would be the same when he came back, Maybe he thought both of his high school sweethearts would be pining after him after all these years.

“She married Reggie, he coaches football at Riverdale high he’s the gym teacher too, Veronica Runs an interior decorating company from home. They’re happy together, they’re a beautiful couple.” Betty finished softly, looking up at Jughead who nodded encouragingly and looked into her Eyes with complete adoration.

“Things have changed pal.” He said looking up at Archie who was slowly making his way to the door, shoulders slumped.

“I’m back now, doesn’t that count for something?” The redheaded boy said lowly.

Jughead and Betty both nodded

“It’s gonna take time, but you’re still my friend, you’re still our friend.” Betty said placing a hand to his shoulder, soothingly.

Jughead nodded
“ meet me at pops tommorow for breakfast, I think we’ve gotta couple things to talk out.”

As Archie nodded solemly on the front porch of the cooper jones residence, he stared at the couple hand in hand looking lovingly into each other’s eyes, as the door closed slowly

Things most definitely had changed and maybe.. maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing

How to Spot a Fake “Daddy."

1.) He asks for nudes and insists you do whatever he says within hours of meeting you.
2.) Doesn’t give you structure. Doesn’t act like a Daddy. There are no rules. No bed times. Nothing.
3.) His compliments exclusively focus on your appearance, so he says things like “you look great” and “your boobs are amazing”, but you never get a compliment on your personality or character.
4.) Is suspiciously quick to punish you. You’re always being told you’ve “been a bad girl”, you always feel like you’re not doing enough to make him happy.
5.) He’s only ever really engaged in the convo when he needs something. Other times he’s distant and barely tolerates you. You feel like you’re bugging him.
6.) His profile icon is a picture of his dick, or of him shirtless, or something dumb like that.
7.) He never really feels like your Daddy, the relationship feels empty and hollow. You still feel alone.
8.) Calls you pet names so often that it becomes nauseating. Ends every sentence with “little one” and “princess” and “little girl”; it comes across like he’s trying too hard.
9.) He doesn’t seem interested about learning more about DD/lg and BDSM. You won’t find him reblogging long text posts such as this on his blog (instead it’ll be 100% sexual content).
10.) Can be very mean and hurtful when he doesn’t get his way. Doesn’t understand how sensitive littles can be and is quick to make harsh personal comments.
•Please help spread the word about these people. Reblog this. Like this. Share this with a friend. We need to put a stop to this behaviour NOW.
(Note that I got this off Facebook didn’t write this myself)

Important things to keep in mind about the Ghost drama

So I had some late night thoughts… and im itching to get it out.
Now let’s re-evaluate this lawsuit drama. Let’s take the lawsuit out of the equation and look at things more objectively.

Let me start off with throwing in my unpopular opinion (trust me, just read this post thoroughly):

I honestly don’t have the best impression of Alpha. I think he’s unprofessional and naive (his musical talent doesn’t apply here)

1) Ghost’s IG maintains a strict and specific format on each post revolving around the band’s activities. So what did Alpha do? He posted a photo of him getting his wisdom tooth removed by his wife on the band’s Instagram.
When I first saw Alpha’s photo, I honestly thought he meant to post it on his personal profile. But the caption intended it to be otherwise (it was signed off as Alpha)
Like how was this relevant to the band’s music? Were you just trying to show off your super hot wife?? ¿¿¿ I personally don’t get it. I got it now, he used his band’s exposure to promote his wife’s business. How professional 🙄

2) He took advantage of Ghost fans to hurt Papa and the new Ghouls by airing their personal private drama on his Facebook account. All it did was divide our community apart. A community that him and his band mates created. All I got from that fb post was how his drama serves more importance than the well being of his fans/community

3) Alpha’s whole new PRIEST project: The masked leader, the cult like image that shares similar qualities to Ghost. It’s a different genre for sure, but it doesn’t change the fact that it does share its similarities to the band. It screams passive aggression to me. 
I can’t help but to think that he’s petty how he’s not getting the recognition as he did in Ghost. And now he’s trying to gain sympathy from his Ghost fans in hopes that they’ll abandon Ghost and check out his new project instead (Which is working in very small numbers)
Now let’s take us back to a few months after the Ghouls were let go:
Maybe his past band mates felt used and now they’re finding an excuse to get their revenge on Papa for firing them.

*I believe that Ghost was intended to be a solo act from the very start. *

If you look at the band from a visual pov, Papa has always been the spokesperson/face of Ghost. You think of Ghost, you think of Papa first. 
I can see/interpret how the Ghouls’ presence were initially used to strengthen that cult-like image to band, which is fair and a smart business decision to attract an audience. It’s unique, it’s bold, it’s loud, and it’s a head-turner (Insert their red carpet Grammy videos)

Now somewhere along the way, the Ghouls started to catch the attention of the audience because of their strong stage/media presence (Think of it as Gru and his minions from Despicable Me. Gru might be the main character, but those cute ass minions caught the heart of many as well)
And maybe Papa wasn’t okay with that and it’s not what he wanted when he wanted to become a solo act.
Since The Ghouls agreed that he would be the band leader, Papa can do whatever he pleases with them.

So Papa, why not just hire random musicians/stand ins if you wanted to go solo in the first place?

1) Renting musicians aren’t cheap, especially if they charge x amount of personal rate/show. It’s better to start off with a bunch of close friends and settle in on an agreement than having to comply to a rented musician’s compensation . You’ll have to deal with more legal paperwork and later on someone will always want to demand more money or exposure.

#2) It takes money to make money. If you take a look at their costume designs and their set designs on stage, it takes up a lot of artistic design components. 
Costume designers/Set designers don’t come in cheap. At all. Now imagine having to pay for those bills when you’re a relatively small band? We’ve had 3 Papas with 4 different costumes and 2-3 Ghoul costume designs for each band member. That’s at least 6 different costume designs. Normally, rock bands just wear store bought clothing (most of them are normally sponsored by the brand) but since Ghost has such a strong/specific visual image that they can’t get away with your seasonal Halloween attire. It’s crucial for them to invest in more money into this area because that’s one of the main reasons why they got famous in the first place.

So being in this type of band, it won’t have the greatest starting salary when you’re constantly paying off those bills. I won’t be surprised if they were still in debt within the first couple of years of touring.

At the end of the day, if this whole theory is true, then I get why they’re mad at Papa. I would get why Omega isn’t suing him because maybe he saw Papa’s true intentions and didn’t agree with it? And maybe he still wants Papa to come back to MCC if Ghost decides to disband after this feud, and not let a lawsuit cut ties on what’s left of their friendship?
(All of this is based off of my assumptions so don’t rely on me as a solid source.)

TBH I just want some objectivity brought into light because I’m seeing a lot of blinded/biased judgement. It really does hurt to see this community being divided by Alpha’s reckless Facebook post.

Part 15 - Dear Cyrus 2

(Continuation of previous chapter Part 14 - Dear Cyrus)

Well that night I didn’t really drank much but he did. He was just leaning on my shoulder as the silence took over most of the time. I didn’t know how to react to him so I guess the best I could offer was being there for him.

Its funny how its our first time meeting each other (for the main reason of just having fun) but here I am with a brokenhearted man beside me. Man I told myself I’m digging in some deep shit that I shouldn’t here.

We didn’t really text much after that night, but I went on stalking him on his social media, basically just checking him out. My fragile memories could recollect of me asking him if he was free a night before his birthday and we both were horny and so we did made an appointment to meet at his place.

Cyrus : Need a fetch tonight ?

Me : Nah its okay. I can take the taxi, you could drive me home after.

Cyrus : Okay then. Becareful. Text me when you’re here

Me : Yeah about 15 mins. btw Do you like chocolate or oreo more ?

Cyrus : Oreo. Why ? 

Me : No la. Just asking. text you when I’m nearby

I get to know his birthday through his Facebook so I wanted to surprise him since tomorrow its his actual birthday. I went off to a bakery store and bought a whole oreo cheesecake for him and got him worried because I was late :

Cyrus : traffic jam ? took you 1 hour ?

Me : Im fine. Reaching soon.

As I was all excited and smiling walking up to his place to surprise him since he has no idea I knew his Birthday and he thought I came just to have sex, as I knock on his door.

Cyrus : (opening the door)

Me : Surprise ! (lifting up the birthday cake box with plastic) 

Cyrus : What ?! (Surprised and laughing)

Me : I know its your birthday tomorrow..so I bought you a cake. (acting silly)

Cyrus : No wonder you asked whether I like choc or oreo lol

Me : (Walking towards the fridge and open it, putting the cake inside)

Cyrus : (hugged me from behind resting his head on my shoulder with his hands wrap around my waist

Cyrus : Thank you. (In a sincere tone) 

My heart was pounding fast in that heat of moment. I felt something again. I didn’t really utter any words that time. We were just indulging in the silence yet sweet moment of him hugging me from behind while the fridge’s was left open.

Me : Wanna have a slice now ? (broke the silence) 

Took a knife and cut a slice and handed to him saying :

Me : Happy birthday hehe ! (Acting silly)

Cyrus : (took the cream on top of the cake with his index finger towards my mouth feeding me) 

Me : (BLUSHING AS FUCK) (open my mouth and ate the cream)

oh dear god thinking back I was so shy and he was just laughing at me saying I’m cute with my face turned red…I lost count of how many time my heart beat in a second. Unconsciously I lean towards him and gave him a kiss with my eyes closed with my hands holding his waist. As I passionately kiss him on his lips slowly with my tongue tied with his, he put the plate away to the side of the sink. We were making out in the kitchen, kissing each other all the time. His fingers were running through my hair and gently touching my face. Eagerly lifting his shirt up and taking it off I push his body against mine close I move down to his neck licking it gently and slowly as he let out a soft moan 

Cyrus : Let’s go to the room.

As he shuts the room’s door. I found myself lying on his bed looking at him stripping off himself with his pants and undies. His cock is hard on. Laying next to me as we continue kissing my hands were reaching down to his cock stroking it. His rough hands were touching my body feeling my skin next to his, removing my shirt licking my neck, leaving marks on my shoulders as I let out a moan, he moves downwards to my sensitive nipples licking it gently drawing circles, flicking it with his tongue and suck it once in awhile. I felt so turn on. With his mouth doing the job, his hands slowly touching my belly to my wet cock and down right to my hole.

His hands were in between my thigh with his fingers touching my hole I felt even more turned on as if he’s molesting me with my pants still on.

Me : I wanna suck your cock please. 

Cyrus : I’ll rim you first. 

Removing my pants along with my undies he lift up my ass while he was in a kneeling position with his hands spreading my ass to give a better look at my hole. Diving in with his tongue licking my hole with his saliva covered like spreading butter on a bread. God I felt so good that I had to shut my mouth with my hands for trying not to moan too loud. Comes his finger poking my hole fingering me as I moan like a slut. 

I lean towards him an grab hold of his hard cock sucking it like nobody’s business. Eagerly sucking it so hard that I almost choke myself from it. As eager as I said : 

Me : Fuck me please.

He turn around and took a condom out of the box along with the lube. I hold on to his legs and said : 

Me : Cyrus. Do you wanna fuck me without the condom ?

Cyrus : (his eyes were widen and surprised saying) You sure ? 

Me : (shyly nodded my head and turn around in doggystyle with my ass facing him)

Hearing the sound of him squeezing the lube. He got hold of his hands on my ass from behind and I felt his hard on 7 Inch dick piecing through me. We were on cloud 9. Fucking me in and out from behind as we both moan at the same time he lean towards me from the back and smell me and kiss my neck while his hips are moving on its own. My wet cock was dripping precum all over the bed I felt it leaking.

As we slowly adjust the position of me laying fully on the bed while he lay on me with his dick still in me. Our body were sweating, so hot that we’re fucking in madness. My hard cock were begging to breathe so I gently pad on his thigh said : 

Me : Change (moaning)

Both of us woke up we were kissing each other I pushed him down and squat on his hard dick, with my hands holding his cock trying to fit it back in my hole. As it enters both of us moaned in joy. Slowly swallowing it fully in my hole as I felt the hardness I hold my hands with his, gently moving up and down riding him with my shy face expose to his. His hands were on my hips while mine was on his thighs. Riding it even harder as he said : 

Cyrus : Fuck you’re so cute you’re gonna make me cum

Me : I’m cumming too.

As I my hard cock were begging for me to stroke, I felt a hot wave of liquid rushing inside me as he moans :

Cyrus : Fuck fuck fuck !!

Stroking my own cock in a split second I cummed all over his body moaning together. That moment we couldn’t care less of what the neighbor heard.

With hole filled with his cum I was so worn out and lay on him with both our bodies covered with my cum panting :

Me : (breathing heavily , panting)

Cyrus : (hugging me even though we’re covered in cum) 

Me : happy ? (acting silly)

Cyrus : Yes..much better without the condom. Lets go clean you up.

As we were in the bathroom he kept nagging me to wash properly, making sure all his cum was out from my hole. Insisting to see the water comes out clean. I felt something again. For once a Top that is not selfish and actually care about me after the sex. 

As I got off from the shower I was kneeling down packing my stuff into my bag.

Cyrus : Don’t go first, come over here. (in a sincere tone)

Me : (Walk towards his room as he was laying on his beanie bag and lay right next to him with my head rest on his chest)

I couldn’t recall the conversation that we had that time…All I remember was gently touching his rose tattoo on his leg while he fell asleep with his hands around me. Looking at him fell asleep peacefully. 

After that night. We rarely text each other. Mostly he don’t reply my messages, even if he replied it would be a day later. I didn’t know what went wrong and I was just so puzzled that I stop trying so hard. But what I felt through things that I felt wasn’t fake. Well maybe the sad part was I was the only one who felt it but he didn’t. It all happen 3 years ago till one of the days I met him on the monorail on his way to work.

All we did was just pass by each other smiled. 

Dear Cyrus, its bitter. But yet sweet. Thank you. xo

anonymous asked:

can you give me your Gayest ™ DallyxJohnny headcanons for,,,,science,,,

Yes of course,, for science,,

- Dally, not being a morning person, will NOT let Johnny get out of bed. As soon as he moves Dally’s arms are around his waist in a death grip and he’s aggressively cuddling him.

- Dally once took Johnny to NY to meet his grandmother, whom Dally loves vv much.

- Dally dirty talks to Johnny in Russian

- modern AU! They’re Facebook married

- hickeys literally everywhere,,

- Dally have Johnny his ring, Johnny wears it on a chain around his neck a almost never takes it off.

- Dally called Johnny “his own personal angle” because he believes with all the wrong he’s done he’ll never get to make it to heaven.

- Dally also calls Johnny “baby” a lot.

- the night before they got before they got married, Dally cried literally all night long and wandered how he got so lucky to get Johnny.

(Not the best, I’m sorry! But I hope you like them Hun!)

My head and heart are reeling after yesterday. I left home at 9:45am and got home after 11:00pm.

The funeral was a lovely celebration of Ronnie’s life. There were so many memories, triggers of childhood abuse, lovely people, kind words, good friends. Arsula (his daughter, my 5th sister) posted this on Facebook.

Later in the day I found out an old boyfriend (and fellow cult survivor) died on Friday.

My youngest sister lives with her fiancé off and on. They have a very tumultuous relationship. His mother went into the hospital with liver failure yesterday morning. The doctors say she has a few days at most.

My 11 year old nephew who’s been in a vegetative state since 2009 has a new condition which will lead to a painful death. If he feels pain. The choice is to let him starve to death or wait for his spine to crush his lungs.

The three siblings I went to the funeral with were all drinking heavily yesterday; only one became an extreme asshole, but the other two continued after I called it a night. I had a couple of drinks throughout the day, but I can’t drink much with my afib, and they make it unappealing. I feel like all three of them need to stop, but I feel powerless to make it happen.

Related: my dad spoke at the service yesterday and was sober, but he is still not honest with himself or us about the extent of his addictions.

I’ll post some more pictures of yesterday’s goodness, but today I feel like bawling.


Request: N/A

A/N:  I said I would write this for one of @bucky-plums-barnes fuffly Friday anons asking for a Lance x Plussize!reader.  So… here ya go!  Hope you enjoy!

Lance x plussize!reader

Word count: 2056

Summary:  You’re pretty much over not being thin, you’re beautiful just the way you are!  But words can still hurt…

Warnings:  Lance being a dick, accidental bullying (body shaming), insults, mentions bullying, mentions of sex, drunkenness, FLUFFY APOLOGY AND ENDING

(GIF not mine)

Originally posted by mackievanstan

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