i had to write it backwards

“Welcome to witchcraft class let’s talk about curses.”

“Hello students today I’m going to teach you about a bunch of very creepy stuff that I may or may not have done let’s just not think about it too hard okay?”

“That bad dream you had was definitely a curse. Every bad dream you’ve ever had was probably a curse.”

“To break a curse walk backwards through your kitchen to the fridge, pull out a milk jug filled with holy water, and chug it while standing there with the door open.”

“There are fifty thousand types of witchcraft you can do with a rusty nail so I hope we’ve all had our tetanus shots!”

“You definitely don’t need dirt or hair or whatever creepy stalker mementos from your target to be able curse them. Honey, this is the age of Instagram. It’s time to curse your enemy’s Cheerios.”

“You’ll have to memorize these next ten steps. You can’t write them down because you don’t want to have any evidence in your house that you’ve ever even thought about doing any of this.”

“Don’t huff grave dust. You don’t get any cool visions from it. Trust me, I know.”

“Now, remember: I’ve only told you 1/100th of the things I know how to do today, so don’t try any of this stuff on me because then you’ll learn the rest of what I know from what you’ll probably consider the wrong point of view.”

Tips on Writing Characters Without Faces

so yeah, we all know that facial expressions can tell us a lot about how a character is feeling, but what if that isn’t an option? how can you make someone emote if they don’t really have standard facial features? the answer; body language.

let’s consider how emotions are conveyed on a stage production vs movie with Sweeney Todd. First, the stage play:

Note how Todd’s entire upper body goes into his gestures, how he’s single-mindedly focused on his dreams and ideals; how his hands GRAB for each imaginary ‘man’ with these sharp, aggressive, destructive movements and how that contrasts with Mrs. Lovett’s body language; how her hands linger in the air and gravitate towards Todd even after he’s pulled away, and the slow turn she gives him. It does an excellent, though exaggerated, way of conveying their relationship (her focus is on him and making him happy, his focus is entirely on revenge)

Contrast this to the movie:

Originally posted by curiousitykilledthekat

Same lines in the song, much more subtle. Lovett’s eyes still track towards Todds, which reminds us she’s still more focused on the outside, but all of the emotion is in their faces. Were this not a close-up shot in a movie it’d be very, very hard to read their expressions.

While I do recommend you watch a few stage plays (in person near the back row if you can) to actually study body language for yourself or try out charades with your face covered with friends/watch how cosplayers or mascots emote, here’s a few shorthands to get you started (US-centric so expressions may vary on your region):

Head:

  • perfectly still - fear, intense attention, feeling under scrutiny
  • tilted up - recollection, intimidation (looking down nose at threat, aiming to appear taller)
  • tilted down - intense thought, shame (avoiding eye contact), depression/sad feelings
  • turned away - not giving person full attention, avoiding subject/conflict without being combative
  • cocker-spaniel (sideways) tilt - confusion, curiosity, amusement

Hands

  • at the forehead - fatigue (wiping away sweat), illness (checking self for fever, feeling a headache), realization/memory (a ‘well duh’ tap)
  • at the eyes - fatigue or headache (shielding eyes from light), distress (blocking out a painful view, concealing tears)
  • at the nose - disgust (a pinch at the nostrils,) irritation (rubbing at sore spot on nose from glasses wear)
  • at the mouth - nausea, surprise, repressing an emotion/stopping self from saying something
  • at the chin - contemplation, tiredness (face resting in hand)
  • rubbing back of neck - a need to relax tension, embarrassment, slight unease/desire to distract self
  • at the chest - surprise, self-protection (reaction to a wounding statement, sometimes used sarcastically), strong emotions (clutching at heart, could be good-strong or bad-strong), need for security (touching necklace/adjusting clothing to conceal more)
  • at the stomach - pain (clutching, pressing), satisfaction after a meal, protectiveness towards fetus when applicable
  • at the hip(s) - confidence, intimidation, nervousness (if grabbing for weapon)
  • at groin - concealment/unease (usually male-coded as protection of genitals), politeness (hands folded in lap)
  • on thighs - exhaustion (bent over, hands on legs supporting tired upper body)
  • formed into fists - holding back an intense emotion, preparing to fight
  • toying with something - restlessness (bored, nervous energy, craving something they can’t touch) or deliberate disrespect of property (playing with personal objects someone holds dear as an intimidation tactic)

Arms

  • at sides, relaxed - default posture
  • at sides, tense - unease, restraint (soldier at attention, person holding still to avoid being attacked), fear
  • crossed at chest - disapproval, displaying authority, unease (hugging oneself)
  • crossed at stomach - pain, intense laughter (caused by sore stomach muscles from laughing)
  • up, fingers laced behind head - confidence, relaxation
  • one arm on back of furniture - confidence, invitation for someone join them
  • general rule - the further arms are away from body, the more confident/dominant a person means to appear; exposed torso indicates that they don’t see anyone around as a threat to them

Legs

  • square with shoulders - professional, restraint, protective stance
  • wide stance, one foot a little back but planted - defensive stance, expecting to receive blows (knees may be unlocked - seen in swordplay and fencing)
  • weight on one leg - relaxed, tired, may also be leaning on something or pair with one ankle tucked behind the other
  • uneven stance - could indicate old injury
  • foot tapping/bouncing - boredom, nervous energy

Whole Body:

  • stiff and still - fear, unease, standing to attention
  • limp or pliant - relaxed, tired, pleased
  • shoulders back/head up - alert, focused, aggressive
  • shoulders forward, hunched - tired, ashamed
  • leaning towards person - interest, intimidation (looming over them), aggression (usually paired with tense arms or hands in fists,)
  • leaning away from person - relaxation, confidence, disgust (recoiling)
  • smooth/fluid movements - joy, confidence, experience
  • stiff motions - fear (reactive, fight or flight), pain (reluctance to move), anger (either fighting to keep control of emotions or lashing out), cold (conservation of heat by keeping limbs near body)
  • cracking joints/stretching - preparing for a fight, often reading as confidence in abilities
  • general rule - close contact/proximity can read as intimidation (paired with tense body - an invasion of personal space) or affection (paired with relaxaed body language, gentle movement) or passion/attraction while distance can read unease/distaste/fear/dislike.

with those in mind, let’s read this scene from Red vs Blue (a personal fav of mine for body language) featuring agent texas from season 8.

Originally posted by cryingmanlytears

So first of all, very relaxed upper body; limp arms held away from the body, which slowly come back to rest on her hips as she looks at what she’s done. Watch how her lean shifts at the end as her center of gravity shifts, and how she has to move her right leg to restabilize herself when she’s finished pushing it. This reads, in order from the start of the loop; detachment (the least amount of her body is involved in the action as possible), relaxation (smooth movements, the deliberation of those little steps backwards) and confidence (hands on hips.) We can tell a ton about this character just in this gif alone, based on her body language.

in summary! this list isn’t exhaustive, but hopefully it gives you some ideas for ways of making characters emote in fics when you can’t see their faces.

It’s pretty short, but I hope you like it!

Lance watched intently as Shiro and Keith clashed, arm against sword. A violet spark nearly set Lance’s coat on fire, and he hastily scooted backwards to continue his observations. The machines became predictable after a while, so Allura had tasked the team to practice sparring with each other; Coran had crafted a board with each paladin’s face across the top to add competition to the matches.  After several more swipes, Shiro managed to pin Keith to the wall, and Coran marked a point under the older male’s photo.

“Alrighty then,” Coran piped cheerily. “Next is Shiro against Lance!” The blue paladin cracked his neck and stood to meet the challenge. They took their positions on either side of the ring. “Ready…” Lance dropped his cocky grin. “Steady…” Shiro’s arm flared to life. “Go!”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

For the suggestion thingy could you do Lancelot but like actually klance with like creep lotor hitting on lance, lance being weirded out and Keith being jealous and protective? Sorry if that made no sense. Anyways, the dialogue prompt could be something like "Look, just leave me alone, alright!"

I hope this was what you wanted! Also, hopes and dreams for S3 tbh


           “Look, just leave me alone, alright?” Lance backpedaled until he was pressed up against the stone wall. “I’m flattered, really, but you’re… you’re, uh, not exactly my type.” Lotor and his bouquet of blindingly blue flowers seemed to droop in unison.

           “The Galra have caused you much pain, I understand.” He bounced back with a toothy grin so fast Lance actually yelped from surprise. “But I can be different. Young Paladin, believe me, your team does not appreciate your talents, your dedication, your­–” Lotor leaned in close enough to smell him– “beauty.” Lance felt himself go red as he tried to subtly inch sideways along the wall.

           “Yeah see it’s not so much the Galra part that bothers me,” he said, a certain boy with a frustratingly attractive mullet flashing unbidden into his head, “as it is the ‘I murder people with a fiery sword’ bit.” Lotor’s hand slammed into the wall beside his head, preventing Lance from moving further sideways.

           “All is fair in love and war, isn’t it?” he asked, and had the audacity to lick his lips with his face bare inches away from Lance. He caught Lance’s hand and pressed the bouquet into it. “I would think you would be impressed with a bit of swordplay.” Lance thought his face might spontaneously combust.

           “You sure know how to use your pickup lines, I’ll give you that,” he said. “Do you… do this with a lot of people?” Lotor’s jaw dropped comically, pressing his now bouquet-free hand against his heart.

           “I have learned the art of seduction, of course, but you, dear Lance, you are no ordinary partner. All the others, they were nothing more than practice so that when I found you—” He plucked a stray flower from the bouquet and tucked it behind Lance’s ear– “I would be prepared to offer you my best performance.”

           “I, uh, um, can I—?” Lotor smiled, far, far too close to Lance’s face for comfort, and he could swear Lotor’s eyes kept flickering to his lips.

           “Yes?”

           “I’m just gonna… Um…” He was interrupted by the door getting kicked in, revealing a furious Keith behind it.

           “GET AWAY FROM HIM!” Keith shouted, charging at Lotor. He sidestepped easily, lifting Lance out of the way as well so that he wouldn’t get skewered when Keith missed his target. Lance took the opportunity to scramble away as Lotor dodged another swipe from Keith, who growled in frustration, circling the Galra prince. As soon as Lotor was closest to the door, he threw a last grin at Lance.

           “You know how to find me!” he called. He winked, then sprinted for the door and slammed it in Keith’s face as he tried to follow. They heard a heavy bar fall in place across it and Keith growled in frustration when it wouldn’t open, before turning back to look at Lance. His eyes raked over him with a frown.

           “Why are you holding flowers?” he asked. Lance, glancing down, realized he still had the bouquet and dropped it promptly, going red again.

           “That… That dude is weird. He kind of tried to, um. He was trying to seduce me.” Keith stomped over and for a second Lance thought he was going to hit him, but instead he just plucked the flower out from behind his ear and crushed it in his hand.

           “Flirting is not going to win over the Galra, Lance,” he said.

           “Hey!” he protested. “He started it!”

           “Sure.”

           “He did!”

           “And now you sound like a kindergartener. Are you going to help me get this door open or not?” Lance grumbled, trudging over to where his bayard had landed after Lotor disarmed him. He hefted it up and told Keith to move aside, aiming for the hinges on the door. Keith watched him.

           “He didn’t actually hurt you, right?” Keith finally asked quietly. Lance paused, one hinge blasted to pieces.

           “The emotional damage was far worse,” he said, rolling his eyes and taking aim at the next hinge. “Why the quiznak would a Galra flirt with me?” The second hinge fell to the floor, leaving the door free to swing backwards into the room.

           “I can think of a few reasons,” Keith muttered very quietly, and before Lance could react, he had ducked under the bar and took off running through the castle. Lance gaped after him. He blinked once, twice, and then ducked under the bar so quickly he banged his head, and chased after him.

           “Keith! KEITH! COME BACK! DID YOU JUST FLIRT WITH ME TOO? KEIIIIIITHHHHHHH!”

Send me a prompt!

A Real Hero

A Real Hero

Peter Parker x Reader

Requested: No

Warnings: uh, a pissed af reader?

A/n: I was inspired to write an oneshot because of all the imagines I’ve been reading. A song I currently love is ‘A Real Hero’ by College and it gave me a quick little inspiration thing and AHH IM SO AWKWARD HELP. And OMG? This is SO MUCH SHORTER THAN I WANTED???

~

“Y/N? Y/N what’s wrong? Why are you ignoring me?” Peter grabbed my shoulder and spun me around in the hallway so he could look at me.

“What’s wrong? You ditched me!” I glared at him, “Again!”
I could see the guilt in his eyes as he tried to fumble around for and excuse.

“Baby, you know that-”

“I know Parker,” I cut him off. “You have the ‘Stark Internship’, but that’s still not an excuse! How can you have it, EVERY DAY?” I turned to walk away but he grabbed my arm.

“Y/N let me make it up to you, please!” He was practically begging me at this point.“

“Save it for someone who cares Parker.” And with that I yanked my arm out of his grip and stormed out of the school.

~
(Later that night)
~

I sat in my bed, working on a science write up that was due the next day. Normally I had Peter to help me, but I didn’t want to ask him for anything.

I was just finishing my paper when I heard a knock on my window. I jumped and fell off my bed, jumping up on my feet immediately.

I walked over and unlatched the window, and in came none other than the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man himself.

“Spider-Man? W-what are you doing here?” I stumbled backwards, almost tripping over the carpet.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked out. “I’m so sorry y/n! Please forgive me!”

“What?” I backed up confusion gracing my features, “I don’t-”

And with that Spider-Man pulled off his mask to reveal a red, puffy eyed Peter Parker.

“Baby, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, I just didn’t know how and then you got mad at me for standing you up and-”

“Parker,”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.” I stepped forward and placed my lips on his, grabbing the back of his head. He put his arms around my waist before we pulled apart.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I just didn’t want you to have to deal with my secret. I didn’t want to stand you up I swear!” He looked at me worriedly.

“It’s ok Peter, I get it,” I smiled before continuing,

“You’re A Real Hero.”

anonymous asked:

Jason and Tim arguing over who had it worse when it came to living up to their predecessor's legacy

‘All I’m saying is… I was living in the shadow of a dead boy.’

Jason looked up from his book with a scowl, turning the page a bit more roughly than he had meant to. He and Tim had been holding their own pity party of “who had it worse” as Robin when it came to living up to their predecessor’s legacy. Jason had made some comment about “back in my days as Robin”, and Tim had had enough self-respect to become offended. And as a consequence, Jason had only gotten through five pages and was tempted to just give up reading altogether. 

Truth be told, he knew that Tim probably had it much worse than him, when it came to this specific issue. And he was only arguing with him because he knew how much arguing for the sake of arguing annoyed his brother. 

But then again, the only thing Tim really had to do in order to surpass his predecessor, was not die… so Jason stuck to his guns. He set his book down and leaned forward, giving Tim his best “I don’t even have time to tell you how wrong you are” look. 

‘Tim. Firstly, I’m a bit offended at being called a, quote unquote, “dead boy”…’

Tim frowned. ‘You call yourself a dead boy all the-’

‘-And secondly,’ Jason interrupted him cooly, ‘My standards were far, faaaar lower than Dick’s. To live up to my predecessor’s legacy meant being a perfect, obedient, chirpy, quipping, circus act, which was not happening in a million years unless global warming wasn’t a thing and hell froze over, giving us another ice age. You, on the other hand, just had to not do any of the things I did.’

Tim pursed his lips, sitting there in silence as he regarded Jason with a look of complete and utter exasperation. 

‘So…’ he said slowly, enunciating every word, ‘not die.’

Jason nodded, rolling his eyes. ‘Yeah. Like I said. Lower standards.’

Tim sighed, massaging his forehead as he turned back to his laptop, tapping the keys distractedly. ‘Okay. But consider this: in order to not die, I actually had to achieve a standard of near-perfection as Robin that not even you or Dick were expected or pressured to reach.’

‘Okay,’ Jason countered. ‘But consider this: in Bruce’s eyes, none of us are ever good enough.’

‘So your point is, we’ve all had it bad and it’s pointless to try and decide who had it worst because we all had a common denominator and standard to live up to: Bruce.’

Jason shrugged and lay on his back on the sofa, opening the book again. 

‘Even Bruce doesn’t live up to Bruce’s standards, so yes. It’s fucked up and we were all screwed from the start.’

‘Oh boy. That went south real quick.’

‘So wait, when I go off on Bruce, it’s too far. But when we’re talking about when I was a “dead boy” it’s all fine and dandy?’

‘All the time, Jason,’ Tim repeated without looking up from his laptop, his voice bland. ‘All. The. Time.’

Unable to think of a reasonable response or blatant lie, Jason scoffed and stood to find somewhere he could read in peace and not get his ear talked off or, god forbid, counselled by his younger brother.

‘Well, you try dying and see if you can stop talking about it. It’s a life-altering event, a real milestone.’

‘It’s also only meant to happen once,’ Tim said pointedly.

Jason paused to consider this. ‘Hold up. So, technically, Damian has already lived up to the standard I set as Robin because he also died and came back. Grayson had to fake it, so he’s disqualified… and we’re not counting Steph because she was never even given a chance, and would beat all our asses in the ‘who had it worst’ game.’

‘Which means I do have it worse than you, because the standard I now have to live up to is resurrection.’

‘WWJD, Timbo,’ he grinned, finger-gunning his brother as he walked backwards out the door. ‘”What Would Jason Do?”’

‘Die and come back a salty gun enthusiast,’ Tim muttered under his breath, mulling over their conversation and taking it more seriously than he should. ‘Also, Easter was last month.’

4

9x05 “Dog Dean Afternoon”
The Big Dog Conspiracy

Posted as part of the Series “Of Blood, Bone and Darkness”:
A Carver Era Rewatch Hiatus Meta-Series

Anybody else thinking about the small fact that dog reads god backwards? Just saying…

I am slowly but surely trying to deal with the salt I have for MCU Wanda and MCU in general.


“Stark?”

Tony nearly threw his tablet.

Wanda shrank backward, frowning. She felt the need to apologize but it got stuck in her throat. Ever since her first apology where Tony had simply turned his back on her, she’d realized he hadn’t wanted to hear it.

Tony put a hand over his heart, took a deep breath, then turned toward her. “Yes, Ms. Maximoff?”

Wanda gripped her phone in her hands tightly, then charged forward. “Vision and I joined Tinder to learn more about human interaction together.”

Tony’s hand over his heart turned from trying to catch his breath to more of a clutching of pearls in horror. “Oh my God. Why?

“Vision is still learning social cues,” Wanda explained, and then paused, because adding her reasoning would be giving him a piece of herself that she wasn’t ready to lay bare. Then again—she had seen his fears. Perhaps she needed to be laid bare to Tony. “I’m—when my brother and I joined Hydra, my learning of social niceties was stunted as well. And I thought—”

“You thought Tinder was the way to learn?” Tony asked, appalled.

“I joined MeetMe, too…” Wanda began, but trailed off when Tony groaned and dragged his hands down his face.

“Honey,” Tony said, and Wanda bristled instinctively until she realized there was no condescension in his tone, and remembered that Tony preferred nicknames to people’s actual names. “Tinder is mostly for dating. Delete that one.”

“Okay, but, um—” Wanda hemmed and hawed, trying to figure out how to continue. “…I get the exact same messages on MeetMe. And some of these men are—I tell them I’m not interested in that, and they blow up at me. Even though MeetMe says it’s for friends.”

“Pepper gets creeped on with her LinkedIn account,” Tony informed her, tucking his tablet under his arm. “If it’s a private account, there will always be a creep that will try to hit on you.”

Wanda frowned down at her phone. “I also came to you because you’re—a numbers man?”

Tony paused, growing cautious again. “Yeah?”

“…I mean, statistically speaking, these men can’t possibly all have nine inch penises.”

Tony put a hand over his chest again. “Jesus Christ, I’m so glad these things didn’t exist when I was a child.” He paused. “…Fourteen-year-old me would have loved it but looking back on it that’s probably not good.”

That… explained a few things about Tony that she’d gleaned from his mind.

“Listen,” Tony sighed. “The best thing to do is block all the guys that get abusive. Hell, block all the guys that start messages with sex talk. Block every person that sends you a dick pic.”

“But I must learn to deal with these people,” Wanda insisted. “Properly. I must learn to control myself and my powers.”

Tony sighed again, frowning at her, then held his hand up. “Okay, just—wait a minute.”

“Okay,” Wanda answered quietly, and watched as Tony began to pace.

It took a few minutes, but then he stopped right in front of her, grabbed her shoulders, and leaned in. It wasn’t as intimidating as it might have been in the past.

“Tell them that you don’t fuck with guys over seven inches,” Tony began.

“WHAT,” burst out of Wanda’s mouth before he could continue.

“Shh,” Tony said, waving her outrage away. “And seven is really pushing it. Listen. The average vagina is three to four inches long when not aroused. It’ll elongate when you are! But without the arousal, it’s three to four inches. You don’t wanna cram nine inches up there.”

Wanda kind of wanted to die even if this was good information.

“So tell them you only take seven inches, and watch these losers who think size makes up for skill backpedal and say oh no, they really are only seven inches. Boys are stupid, Wanda.”

“Really?” Wanda asked skeptically.

Tony nodded. “Yes.

Wanda wasn’t sure she believed him. “Well, alright.”

“Stupid,” Tony insisted again.

She nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Tony agreed, then gave her a pat on the shoulder and turned to leave. “This was weird please ask Clint next time.”

Clint probably wouldn’t have given her very good advice. Sometimes he treated her like a child, who needed to be protected. Wanda wasn’t a child; she was an adult, who could make her own decisions. That was part of the reason she’d struggled after Ultron—she hadn’t been held accountable for her actions.

And maybe she thought she hadn’t needed to be held accountable then either. She had been angry and—well. That didn’t matter now. She had made mistakes, and now she had to pay for them. It was something that she was coming to grips with.

Wanda had hope that people would one day see beyond her mistakes, though. People had seen past Tony’s after all. Tony hadn’t let his mistakes define him. She may have to try a little harder to be accepted after what she did, but she would do continue to try anyway, even though there were certainly going to be people who never forgave her. It was what she deserved. She understood that now.

“Why did Tony just tell you the average depth of a woman’s vagina?” Natasha asked, snapping her gum.

Wanda threw her phone with a yell. The only thing that saved it was her magic.

“Actually never mind, I don’t care.” Natasha snapped her gum again, flopping down onto the couch. “The average dick is five inches by the way.”

“Oh. Um. Thank you,” Wanda replied, then hurried away before she was told anything else about the human body.

Just one chance 

(Zach Dempsey mini-series part I)

Part II Part III

A/N: One about Zach YAAAY! I hope you like it and if you’re wondering there will be more parts of this one.

Warnings: English is not my first language.

Remember REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Words: 2.052

masterpost



I had noticed. I noticed how he hoped to find that piece of paper in his compliment bag hanging on the wall next to the rest. Hoping to find that someone had written something that made him feel a little better, he didn’t lose hope that someday that bag would have something inside, he didn’t care how long it took.

I had stopped looking in my bag a long time ago; it wasn’t like I couldn’t use some nice words even though they came from an anonymous source that I would probably never know who it was. I had stopped looking inside because I never got any notes, so I decided to stop wasting my time and to stop feeling bad every time I looked inside.

Nevertheless I was surprised that someone like Zach Dempsey didn’t get a hundred of notes, after all he was the star player in the basketball team, he was friends with the popular people of the school, he was always in all the parties and I knew girls liked him, still he didn’t get any compliments in his bag.

I couldn’t help to feel bad for him, so I gather my things very slowly to be the last one in the class and I wrote a note for him, which I left in his compliment bag so the next day he would have something.

I didn’t write a love letter or something like that, it was something pretty simple, something that would make him feel better for the rest of the day; we all deserve to receive compliments from time to time.

A few days passed since the first note I wrote him and I had to admit that I loved how he reacted so I decided to write him a couple more for the next weeks, but I didn’t make it a daily thing.

One day while I was running to class, considering that I was late to first period. I was looking in my bag for my book and being the clumsy person that I am I ran into someone, luckily for me I didn’t fall backwards, that would had been even more embarrassing.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking” I said as fast as I could while I bend down to get the book that I made that person drop.

I saw it was the biology book, the same one that I was looking for in my bag and when I looked to the owner I saw it was Zach and I thanked that it was him and not one of his stupid friends, because even though he hanged out with them Zach was so much nicer than all of them together.

“Don’t worry, are you ok?” he asked grabbing his book and smiling for some reason.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m just really bad at walking without running into people” I joked putting my bag on my shoulder “I was looking for my bio book but it seems that I forgot it at home” I sighed “but it doesn’t matter, see you in class” I added walking to the classroom, I didn’t want to get even more late.

“Wait!” he exclaimed making me turn in his direction with a surprised expression on my face “we can walk together and if you want you can sit with me and I’ll share my book with you” I couldn’t help the frown on my forehead. Zach was definitely kind, but not to this level, he was socializing voluntary with me, someone who wasn’t even close to his little world or the people in that world, it was odd.

“Okay… thank you” I answered trying to sound convinced. He reached me and we started walking to class together “how it is that you’re late to bio? You’re always the first one there” I added realizing he was late to his favourite class.

When I didn’t get any answer I looked in his direction and I saw him smiling again, this time even wider. We got to class so I wasn’t going to get any response to my question.

The class went by as usually, this was one of the few classes I liked, I liked to consider myself a person of letters, but I was good at everything in general, even though I hated all the subjects related to science or maths, that’s why it was something unusual that I liked this one in particular and that was the reason why I was always dazed in the teacher’s explanations, but not this time. I couldn0t stop looking to Zach and see how he took notes of everything and how he knew all the answers to the teacher’s questions, even though he just answered them in his notebook and not out loud. I guess that being good at something not related to sports wasn’t “cool”.

Unluckily for me Zach caught me staring and I tried to hide my smile, but it was impossible, I just looked in the teacher’s direction and started to take notes.

“You’re better at this than I thought” I whispered while I was writing the things that I saw in the blackboard.

“That means you knew I was already good at this” he answered looking at me all the time.

That answer was as odd as the rest of things that were happening with him this morning.

“Well, we have this class in common, why wouldn’t I know you’re good at it?” I asked looking at him again.

“Just an observation” there it was again, that smile, the third time I got that smile.

The bell was close to rang when Mr. Porter came into the classroom and I knew he was there for me, I just had to wait to hear my name and see how everyone looked at me.

When he did it I looked at Zach, who was looking at me with something like surprise and concern. I just grabbed my things and followed Mr. Porter to his office.

“I know why you have called me here” I said before he could even start “and I just have to say that everything is ok, I’m fine” I added with my usual tone.

“Your parents don’t think the same, they seem really concern”

“well, they are parents, when you have kids you’re life turns into an endless hole of worries, but I’m fine, I don’t know what they’ve told you, but I know exactly how I feel, can I go now?” the bell rang, great I was going to be late for second period too.

“How do you feel? I’d like to know it so that way I can help you”

“Why do you want to talk about it? To make me feel bad? I’ve said I know how I feel, it doesn’t mean I want to talk about it”

“If you don’t talk about it you won’t be able to solve it”

“This is a waste of time” I said standing and taking my bag. I was in a good mood this morning, but not anymore, thanks to this stupid “try to talk about your feelings”.

“(Y/N) wait” Mr. Porter stood like he was going to follow me, but he didn’t, I walked out of his office without looking behind and I let a big sigh leave my chest.

I started walking to communication class when I heard a certain voice calling me; I turned in his direction with surprise in face again.

“Is everything ok?” Zach asked coming to me.

“Yes, what are you doing here?” I needed to know the answer to that question, because we weren’t friends, we just had a few classes together and now all of the sudden he’s worried about me.

“I just wanted to make sure everything was fine” when I heard how sincere he sounded I felt something I had never felt before, it was like something inside me was completed and I just smiled widely.

“That’s really nice of you” I mumble “Thank you”

We remained silence, I didn’t know what else to say and he looked like he wanted to continue talking, like there was something he wanted to tell me and just when I was about to turn in the opposite direction he talked.

“Would you like to go to Monet’s some time?” he sounded almost nervous. Like if he was exposed to a terrible danger.

I looked at him, confusion all over my face, I was trying to make sense to the fact that he wanted to go out with me, I didn’t want to think he was playing with me, like it was some kind of bet with his friends, that would be really painful.

“Zach… I don’t want you to misunderstand this, but… why?” his expression didn’t change.

“I don’t know, you seem interesting and I’d like to get to know you better” now I was totally amazed.

“Is this some kind of bet you want to win? Because if it is-“

“No!” he said stopping me “no, no bets” I think he realized then why I have my doubts “I promise you it’s nothing like that”

“Then why are you interested suddenly? We’ve been in the same classes since freshman year and we have never had a real conversation, we’re from different worlds and I know you’re nothing like your friends, because if you were I wouldn’t even be talking to you, but when you’re with them… I don’t know, you’re not like this, I guess…”

“I get it, I have a reputation, but give me a chance to prove you that I’m not like that, and you won’t regret it”

“I’ll accept if you tell me the real reason behind this interest”

He stopped for a second, maybe thinking if he wanted to talk about it or not.

“I know you are the one who has left notes in my compliment bag” I opened my mouth to say something, but words didn’t come to me, I was speechless, I didn’t know if I should deny it or tell the truth “You’re not the only one who notice things, you know? I’ve notice how much you enjoy when we are in literature, how you are in your own world when you are bored, how much you like animals” I was blushing by the second “you like bio even though science is not your favourite area and how you laugh even when the jokes aren’t funny at all”

I couldn’t believe how much he noticed me, I always thought no one looked in my direction and that was why I felt so comfortable doing my things.

“How… how do you know the notes were mine?” I whispered, trying to recover myself form the things he had said to me.

“Because I know you’re the only one who knows how much I like bio” he answered giggling “and in your first note you wrote how cute I look when I’m paying attention in bio and that you think I looked happier there than playing basketball”

“That could be anyone…”

“That’s what I thought at first, but you have confirmed my doubts today” he said laughing at my recently shyness “Thank you for the notes by the way”

“Compliments are necessary” I said trying to change the subject.

“Then what do you say, do you want to go to Monet’s some day?” I wasn’t entirely sure about this, I really wanted to believe him, but I couldn’t stop thinking that maybe this was just a game and I think he knew how insecure I felt “I get you have doubts, I just ask for one chance”

“Ok, I’ll go out with you” I said almost cutting him, if I thought about it more I’ll change my mind and I wouldn’t give him a change to prove he had good intentions.

His expression change suddenly, he smiled brightly and I tried to hide mine but it was impossible, I looked in other direction so he couldn’t see it, but I think my attempt was useless.

“I promise you won’t regret it” he said thrilled “do you want to go to the library? We are already really late to class anyways”

“Sure, and you can help me with something I don’t understand in bio” I said walking by his side to the library.

“Of course”

i.
i’m sorry for all the poems i wrote whilst you were gone
all the shouting i did about somebody else’s mouth
i had some growing up left to do under the aborted tenderness of another.
somehow, i went backwards.

ii.
i’ve never been able to write about you, save for that one poem, about how you left whilst never really being there to begin with. i’m still struggling now.
i flesh you out, broad shoulders, narrow hips, those strong, strong legs. your weak heart.
every time i put pen to paper i realise
i do not know you.

iii.
the things you laugh at, then. the things you enjoy. what we eat together. our shared favourite drink. the way you only laugh that way for me. the unparalleled tenderness when so many others are watching. that brick wall i clamber over night after night, when we are alone.
what are you so afraid of, darling?
the little bird with a heart of solid gold?

iv.
the girl in the cape, the girl with the basket, the girl who is coming to blow your house down.
the girl across the ocean, the girl on the pavement, the girl wrapped in sheets – it takes you so long and no time at all to extricate yourself, to shed your skin. i wonder what she does with it once you’re gone. does she fashion herself a home from your discarded sense of self?
the girl with her own home, the girl with her own skin, the girl made of steel, she leaves you on the floor.

v.
your fears and mine do not float in the same water. your fears and mine do not sink us together. your fears, the rock falling into the ocean, my fears, the ocean swallowing it whole. where does it land where does it land? our fear, then, the impression upon the sand as the rock slowly settles, our fear now, that slow, slow erosion, our fear forever, indistinguishable as it washes ashore into waiting hands.

vi.
i am not the ocean. the girl with the salt inside of her. i am not the ocean. the girl swallowing you whole. i am not the ocean. the girl coughing you up onto the sand. i am not the ocean.
you sink into me, regardless.

—  Messages In Bottles. Charlotte Ford
Smaller Than He Seems (one-shot)

Based on an AU concept where Ford was REALLY unlucky during his short stint in the Do-Over Dimension and had his biological clock turned backward until he was a kid again. He still, however, remembers every bit of his life up to that point. This is the initial reaction of everyone when he returns through the portal. I have approximately five angst/fluff fic ramble ideas to share with you later on this whole concept.


“Who is that??” Dipper asked, his brow knitting together as he gawked at the short, compact figure that- only seconds ago- crossed through the glowing maw of the wrecked portal.

“I- I don’t know,” Stan sputtered. “This isn’t- wasn’t who I thought would…”

The figure was dressed in all black, a thick scarf and a small pair of metallic goggles entirely obscuring the face. Thick, wild brown hair poked out from the front of the jacket’s hood. They began to walk towards him and the rest of his family as the shimmering blue light from the portal began to die out.

“I dunno ‘bout you, but that looks like a kid to me, dudes,” Soos whispered to Dipper and Mabel probably a little louder than intended, hand cupped against his lips like a megaphone.

The four watched in uncomfortable silence as this mysterious fifth person crossed to their side of the basement, their heavy boots forming clear footprints in the dirt. They stopped in front of the red leather journal. The first of the author’s journals, the journal Stan had kept in secret down here all this time. Slowly, the figure reached their pale hand towards the cover. They splayed their fingers out over the gold foil six-fingered hand, revealing…

That they had six fingers as well.

Dipper’s mouth went slack. “What..?”

“The author?” Mabel whispered. “That’s the author??”

The two glanced at Stan, searching for answers, but their Grunkle’s expression was close to unreadable. What they could tell was that he appeared just as surprised and confused as they did, his eyes blown wide and his mouth screwed into that sort of anxious frown he got whenever he couldn’t figure something out.

The small figure (the author??) picked up the journal, hugged it to their chest with one hand, and then used the other to pull back their scarf and goggles. Instantly Dipper saw that Soos was right. This mysterious person was a kid. A young boy, probably right around his age. He wore thick glasses. Untamed brown waves- just a little longer than a usual boy’s haircut- framed his face. Oddly, Dipper found that the shape of the boy’s nose reminded him a lot of the Pines family nose. At first a part of him just dialed that to coincidence, but the more he thought about it the resemblance he found within this boy’s face to his own was quite interesting. His small mouth was set into a scowl as he looked around the basement, to the wrecked portal, and finally towards Grunkle Stan.

“Ford…?” Stan whispered, breaking the thick sheet of silence. “Wha… what ha-“

“What happened?” the boy- Ford- said in a clipped manner. “Time. Mistakes. Years of my life, stolen away. It’s a long story, Stanley, and frankly, I’m not sure I’m in the mood to relive it at this time.”

Dipper, Mabel, and Soos watched in utter confusion as the two continued to converse in familiarity.

“So like… Mr. Pines knows him?” Soos wondered out loud.

“It looks like it,” Dipper replied, continuing to watch the pair talk. The kid seemed really upset with Stan, and from what he could hear was chastising him for activating something. Activating the portal, maybe?

Mabel pulled at her brother’s arm. “But this makes no sense! If he’s the author,” she said, jabbing her finger towards the black clothed kid, “then why is he so young? The journal was from the eighties, Dipper. The roarin’ eighties!”

They watched as Stan opened his arms, as if desiring to hug the child. Ford hesitated for a moment, scowl returning to his face, but soon it softened and he accepted the affection. Their Grunkle wrapped his hands around the kid’s small frame as tightly as he could.

“I know you’re still angry with me and everythin’, but I really missed ya’,” he said. Dipper could swear he could see a stray tear in his eye.

The corner of Ford’s mouth tilted into a smile, just for a second, but it was there. “I don’t like the risky move you made, restarting the portal,” he said, shooting a slight glare towards Stan, “but I… I am glad to be home.”

“Sorry Sixer, ‘m not apologizing for that. Never would, never will.”

“You always were a stubborn ass,” the kid said with a short chuckle.

Stan’s face froze. He pulled away from the hug, his expression twisted into pure horror.

“Whoa, whoa, Ford! Watch your language! Not around the- oh,” he interjected himself suddenly, scratching awkwardly at the nape of his neck. “I, uh… I guess I never thought ta’ introduce everyone.”

Now it was Ford’s turn to panic. His eyes shot wide open, finally noticing the other three people standing around the basement. “Stan, you didn’t tell me there were children down here!” he replied, his voice raising into a slightly higher register.

You’re a child now, Poindexter. It takes one to know one,” he said matter-of-factly, and ruffled the disgruntled kid’s hair. 

Ford swatted his hand away in indignation. “Please don’t patronize me.”

Stan rubbed his hands together, and then gestured towards the boy. “Anyways. Kids, Soos, this is- well, this is my twin brother. Ford. He’s kinda, eh… smaller. Than usual. Ford, this is your family. Shermie’s grandkids…”

courtofpainteddreams  asked:

A blurb of cassian getting sweaty and a little TOO excited on the dance floor at Rita's! (He's trying to woo Nesta!!)

“I don’t dance,” Nesta says in a bitter voice and takes one more sip from her wine. Cassian scoffs as he backs away, walking backwards into the dance floor. He downs his drink and hands it to a waitress who passes him by before he starts swaying to the music. 

He has gotten compliments before, so he knows he’s got some moves, and it doesn’t take him long to get into it. The beat is a fast one, but not too fast. Only a few seconds of closing his eyes and feeling the music get him right into it, and his hips move slowly. As he opens his eyes, he finds Nesta observing him with more than just a regular look. A grin spreads across his face and he gestures for her to come closer. She rolls her eyes, but does, walking slowly, her eyes looking him top to bottom, then back to top. Her eyes are fixated on his as she reaches him and he took her hand.

“Don’t think I’ll ever do this again,” she mumbles, but takes his hand. He smiles and puts his other hand on her hip, pulling her close. She keeps up with his movements easily, and they get into a steady dancing rhythm.

“You’re a pretty good dancer for someone who doesn’t dance.” 

“I said I don’t dance, not that I can’t,” she shoots back with no hesitation, making Cassian chuckle. He spins her around and catches the smile that tugs on her lips, which makes him pull her just a little bit closer. She didn’t protest. 

They  dance together easily, their bodies fitting so well it feels like they were meant to be together. Cassian feels inclined to believe it as Nesta inches closer to his face, making their nose tips touch. He inclines his head and lets their lips brush against each other. She pulls back at the last second, just as they were about to kiss, a smirk on her face. Cassian lets out a little frustrated groan, but the Cauldron must love him, because the song changes just then, into a sexy upbeat one. He turns Nesta around, pressing her back against him, and if she’s surprised by it, she doesn’t show it. They grind against each other with the song, and Cassian takes turns between running his hands up and down her waistline and run the tip of his nose up her neck. One time, his mouth comes close to her ear, close enough to bite it, but he doesn’t, and her sharp intake of breath makes him whisper to her that two can play that game. His hands go down to her thigh, but not too far, and her response is to press harder against his body. He gasps as he feels his cock start to harden, and Nesta must feel it too, because that only motivates her further. He bites her neck, then, and takes his time running a hand down her thigh and another to the stomach to keep her in place. Her head turns slowly to him, and just as their lips meet, the song ends, and they both stop moving, breathing heavily.

“Let’s get out of here,” he murmurs into her lips. She smiles.

“Your place?” 


For reference purposes, the song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X_H3cIsenBQ 

“Are any of the levers marked?” said Ponder, scrabbling through Leonard’s sketches.
“Yes, but I don’t understand them! Here’s one marked ‘Troba’!”
Ponder scanned the pages, covered in Leonard’s backwards writing. “Er… er…” he muttered.
“Do not pull the lever marked ‘Troba’!” snapped Lord Vetinari, leaning forward.
“My lord!” said Ponder, and went red as Lord Vetinari’s gaze fell upon him. “I’m sorry, my lord, but this is rather technical, it is about machinery, and it would perhaps be better if those whose education had been more in the field of the arts did not…”
His voice faded under the Patrician’s stare.
“This one’s got a normal label! It’s called ‘Prince Haran’s Tiller’!” said a desperate voice from the omniscope.
Lord Vetinari patted Ponder Stibbons on the shoulder.
“I quite understand,” he said. “The last thing a trained machinery person wants at a time like this is well-meant advice from ignorant people. I do apologize. And what is it that you intend to do?”
“Well, I, er, I…”
“As the Kite and all our hopes plunge towards the ground, I mean,” Lord Vetinari went on.
“I, er, I, let’s see, we’ve tried…”
Ponder stared at the omniscope, and at his notes. His mind had become a huge, white, sticky field of hot fluff.
“I imagine we have at least a minute left,” said Lord Vetinari. “No rush.”
“I, er, perhaps we, er…”
The Patrician leaned down towards the omniscope. “Rincewind, pull Prince Haran’s Tiller,” he said.
“We don’t know what it does–” Ponder began.
“Do tell me if you have a better idea,” said Lord Vetinari. “In the meantime, I suggest that the lever is pulled.”
On the Kite, Rincewind decided to respond to the voice of authority.
“Er… there’s a lot of clicking and whirring…” he reported. “And… some of the levers are moving by themselves… now the wings are unfolding… we’re sort of flying in a straight line, at least… quite gently, really…”
“Good. I suggest you apply yourself to waking up Leonard,” said the Patrician. He turned and nodded at Ponder. “You yourself have not studied the classics, young man? I know Leonard has.”
“Well… no, sir.”
“Prince Haran was a legendary Klatchian hero who sailed around the world on a ship with a magical tiller,” said Lord Vetinari. “It steered the ship while he slept. If I can be of any further help, don’t hesitate to ask.”

– never let the imminent destruction of the world stop you from being dramatic: the Havelock Vetinari story | Terry Pratchett, The Last Hero

And I could tell you that lately my skin has been the loneliest place on earth, that even though I can still play the chord of us perfectly, every word is still a shell of the laughter we lost. every smile is an outline of colors our hands could never reach, a subtle heading that caution can hold stares as hardened as these windows we could never keep clean. You never promised to make me feel better, but you always made me feel. Truth is, I was a little less lost every time you held my hand. I was a little less lost every time my ear found your voice. I was a little less lost when the tears in your eyes matched the holes we smoked through summers. I was a little less lost knowing the only darkness I could never escape were the I love you’s we said with our eyes closed. And now I’m writing your name on napkins, just so I’m not eating alone. And I could tell you that winter isn’t the coldest season if only you would listen, I apologize an extra time for the moments when you cried and I told you to stop, I should have held you more, I should have held you in my arms just for a little longer if I knew that that would be the last time we would ever be, life comes at you hard, so it gave birth to love and the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree, it broke every branch that looked like a vein and injected enough morphine to silence a whole city filled with poets and romantics, we live in a technology infested world, when the robots come they’ll get rid of love and we’ll wonder why, love stems from something as old as finding a mate, we just gave something primitive a few poems and a spine, we gave it a new name just to call it ours, you are mine and I am yours, but only if always and forever could last, maybe the world wouldn’t be in so much debt with Cupid, breathing means that I’m trying and it’s not always about love, but if it’s not about love, then is it really about anything? Anything of importance, baby, we love it. Anything of value, baby, we love it. Anything of anything, baby, we love it. So when I miss you while I’m driving around and the city is quiet enough for my memories to come back to life– love doesn’t really die, it’s just a sleeper cell waiting for the call, and our brains likes to fuck us up when we least expect it. i can count on all ten of my fingers about when you took my breath away. 1: your smile. that statement alone requires no introduction. divine falls short when it comes to you. 2: your words. you made my left brain understand poetry, you spoon-fed my right brain the logical means to end irrationality even if it meant that we had to split in order for me to grow into a person capable of loving myself. loving you was the best possible way I could’ve ended things between us, hating myself was the worst possible way I could’ve seen us together, so of course it still hurts when I think about 3: your body. they say sexual exploration is important, I learned how to kiss where it counts, I learned how to feel skin as if I was pen writing the same word for spelling homework over and over again, I learned how to write your name backwards on your back with my fingers, and I’m still learning how to forget that my skin is important too, when I dropped those razors and asked if 4 could forgive me. 4: your younger self. I realized a few things about us, when you’re this young, you’re going to hurt someone and then you’re going to feel the pain. you’re going to be alone and numb, but that’s the thing about being young, I get to be dumb once, the rest of the time I need to step up and love somebody right. 5: your lies. I learned that just because you love someone, it doesn’t mean that they’ll always be honest with you. you can’t expect everyone to be like you. you can’t expect that person to love you back in the same force that pulls the moon closer to earth just to feel less dead. 6: your eyes. they always gave you away. 7: your mouth. they were next to do the same. 8: your heart. it’s still as pale as mine. 9: your soul. meant to touch, but not to stay. 10: your version of loving someone. it means distance. and when I think about the number one reason as to why I finally let go of all the things that I’ve got left of you, I always come up with one. me. I’m doing this for me. when you left, you said that I’ll go on many adventures without you. it’s a good way to start things over with myself for myself.
—  The Ate & The Bunso

anonymous asked:

Headcanon for Rfa (+ trio, if you like) upon discovering MC is gifted at massage? This can be as tame or nsfw as you please 😄 hope I did this right...😶

So I’m actually a massage therapist IRL, and this is great, it’s just….. I just wanted to say, I’m happy that this is a request, it’s nice, but this will NEVER be NSFW because the sexualization of my profession is a very real problem, and… I would like to request you all to avoid sexualizing it in the future.

Well, with that serious note out of way, let’s get to this!


Yoosung

  • He was super stressed out over a term paper he had to finish
  • Yoosung had been hunched over a desk all weekend, writing, working, and stressing
  • So MC came up behind him and began rubbing his shoulders when he had his head in his hands
  • The simple action made Yoosung immediately relax and slump backwards into his chair, allow MC a better angle
  • They talked a little as she rubbed his shoulders
  • When she stopped, Yoosung was sleepy and distracted, but it was also late and he had school the next day, so MC dragged him off to bed
  • He started asking for shoulder rubs from time to time after that
  • After a while, MC teaches him how to return the favor so that he can take care of her too

Jaehee

  • Jaehee invited MC over after a long day at the cafe, and they started watching a Zen movie over some popcorn and tea
  • Then MC noticed the way Jaehee was sitting, with her feet elevated and a cold compress on them
  • When she offered to massage Jaehee’s feet, Jaehee wasn’t expecting much, but the moment MC started digging in, she nearly passed out
  • In fact, within minutes, she completely fell asleep with MC massaging her feet
  • When Jaehee woke up, her feet felt like they were new, like she could put weight on them without pain
  • She was so impressed, Jaehee asked MC to teach her
  • Afterwards, MC and Jaehee made it a point to meet up once a week, watch something together, and rub each other’s feet while on the couch
  • MC even buys and brings some peppermint lotion to help with the massage

Zen

  • Zen was freaking out
  • He’d had a crick in his back for a few days and it wasn’t going away, so he was super concerned
  • When Zen described the pain and the location, MC knew exactly what was hurting him
  • So she had Zen lay face down on the bed, topless for easy access to his back, then she stood next to him and got to work
  • MC moved her hands in ways he never would have thought of, following invisible lines with the tips of her fingers, digging in harder than he thought she would or could in some places
  • When MC moved away, he’d zoned out, and slowly came back to reality at the sound of her voice
  • When she asked him how he was feeling, he dreamily said, “good” not even thinking about the pain he’d been in
  • About 15 minutes later, however, Zen got his clarity of mind back and realized, “my pain is gone!”
  • He gushed to MC about what a good job she does, and while she blushes, she says, “well I should hope so after all that training I went through.”

Jumin

  • Jumin came home cranky because he’d had a horrible headache all day and it just wasn’t going away
  • When MC heard what was wrong, she took off his tie, loosened his shirt, and told him to lay down with his head at the foot of the bed
  • Jumin wasn’t sure what she was planning, especially not when she turned off the lights, but when she sat down on a little stool and started rubbing his neck, his eyes dropped shut
  • With a few minutes, Jumin had drifted off into a half sleep where he could feel her hands moving his head and massaging his neck, shoulders, and scalp
  • When she told him she was done, he opened his eyes, looking directly up into hers, and realized the pain was gone
  • He kissed her in gratitude
  • MC explained she’d learned how to give massages before she’d met him, and if he ever needed another, all he had to do was ask

Saeyoung

  • It had been a long day for Saeyoung as he’d spent 90% of it hacking and chasing off hackers that wanted to catch him
  • So when he comes out of his cave at long last and finds MC rubbing Saeran’s shoulders (Saeran had started having a panic attack and MC did it try to calm him down), Saeyoung wants a shoulder rub too!
  • Of course, he waits his turn, and once Saeran gets up to go get some ice cream (today, he goes with mint chocolate chip), Saeyoung sits up a little straighter in anticipation
  • MC has him straddle a chair and the moment she starts working on him, he relaxes, and five minutes later, he’s completely asleep as she works down his back
  • She has to jostling him awake, and once he’s conscious (though a little bleary eyed), he says, “You really are too good for me.”
  • Of course, from then on, as an excuse to make physical contact, he begins exchanging massages with her
  • MC teaches both him and Saeran how to properly give a massage, even pulling out her massage table and chair, which she rarely uses, to teach them the body mechanics of it
  • In a couple of months, Saeyoung’s more relaxed than he can ever remember being, as he’s practically receiving a massage every day

Remember Firestar Doesn’t Like Waffles, Jane? I remember Firestar Doesn’t Like Waffles. Fuck the picture on this post, I want to talk about Firestar Doesn’t Like Waffles. Warriors videos were simpler back then, in 2013. They stood for something. And that something was nothing. Warriors videos just were. “Firestar doesn’t like waffles.” An undeniably true, self-reflexive statement. Water is wet, fire is hot, and for the last time, Graystripe, Firestar doesn’t know what a waffle is. Warriors videos were floating signifiers without signifieds, meaningful in their meaninglessness. Nobody made Warriors videos, they just arose through spontaneous generation; Athena being birthed, fully formed, from her own skull.

You could talk about them around the proverbial water cooler, taking comfort in their absurdity. “Hey, flightfootwarrior, have you seen that animation of Firestar? They call it Firestar Doesn’t Like Waffles because Firestar doesn’t like waffles!” “Ha ha, sounds like good fun, tribbleofdoom! That reminds me, I need to show you this series I found the other day; it contains numerous animated fighting cats in the forest. It’s called — you’ll never believe this — Warriors Of The Forest!” And then flightfootwarrior and tribbleofdoom went on to have a wonderful friendship based on the comfortable banality of self-evident animated animals.

But then 2014 came, and along with it came MAPS, and everything was forever ruined. It was hubris, Jane. We did it to ourselves. The minute we added collaborative narratives and artistic direction, it all went to shit. Suddenly warriors videos had an excess of information to be parsed. It wasn’t just a six frame animation of a cat, perhaps with Gerard Way bangs and default Windows Movie Maker title text appended to it; now the cat spoke to us via unified color palettes and painstakingly animated, visual allegories in the frame itself. It referred to narrative depth that existed in our world but not in the world of Erin Hunter, rupturing the boundary between the two. The cat wanted something. Which forced us to recognize that what it wanted was us, was our labor. WE are the MAP parts, Jane, and we always were. But by the time we realized this, it was too late. We were slaves to the very MAPs that we had created. We toiled to earn the privilege of being distracted by them. They fiddled while Rome burned, and we threw ourselves into the fire so that we might watch a Warriors rendition of the entire Hamilton soundtrack. The MAPs had us. Or, rather, they had us animating Onestar like tomorrow won’t arrive, like we need it to survive, every second we’re alive, every second we’re alive.

It goes right back to Phaedrus, really. The Plato dialogue. (You read that, right?) Back in the innocent days of 2013, we naïvely thought that the grapheme had subjugated the phoneme, that the belief in the primacy of the spoken word was an ancient and backwards folly on par with MS Paint recolors, or practicing phrenology, or thinking that Three Days Grace was good. Fucking Three Days Grace. But we were wrong. About the phoneme, I mean. The trickster god Theuth came to us again, this time in the guise of an open, 45 part MAP. The MAP hungered, and so did Theuth. We’d already taken Erin Hunter’s writing, so this time he offered us a new choice disguised as a gift. And we greedily took it, again oblivious to the consequences. To borrow the parlance of a contemporary song, his pharmakon was the animal we have become.

Pharmakon, φάρμακον, the Greek word that means both “poison” and “cure,” but, because of the limitations of the English language, can only be translated one way or the other depending on the context and the translator’s whims. No possible translation can capture the full implications of a Greek text including this word. In the Phaedrus, writing is the pharmakon that the trickster god Theuth offers, the toxin and remedy in one. With writing, man will no longer forget; but he will also no longer think. A double-edged (s)word, if you will. But the new iteration of the pharmakon is the MAP. Specifically, the post-Reflektor MAPscape of 2014 onward. And it was the MAP language that did it, Jane. The addition of parts and deadlines and artistic direction twisted the remedy into a poison, flipped the pharmakon on its invisible axis.

Firestar doesn’t like waffles. Language is language. Pharmakon is pharmakon. The phoneme topples the grapheme, witches ride through the night, our skulls hide secret messages on their surfaces, Three Days Grace is good after all. I will not die, I’ll wait here for you. I feel alive, when you’re beside me. I will not die, I’ll wait here for you.

In my time of dying.

Relax

J-Hope x Reader

Genre: Do I write anything that isn’t smut? The answer is no.

Summary: Look up from your books once in a while. A good dick down might be on the other side.

Word count: 4,267

A/N: I’m appalled at the lack of Hoseok smut so I thought I’d polish this piece I had about him and post that. Enjoy! Feel free to request stuff as well.


You glanced at the silver and pink watch on your wrist as you typed continuously onto your laptop. You sighed deeply as you pressed enter to switch line. This essay was taking so long to write and you could feel all your focus slip away, tiredness taking over in heavy presses on your eyelids. You met eyes with your charming boyfriend on the other side of the table. He smiled at you sweetly before looking back down at his papers. Unlike you, he was enjoying himself, writing lyrics and listening to some music on his laptop, calmly sipping a warm cup of tea. You glanced to your left and reached for your nth cup of coffee promptly sitting atop a messy pile of books. You tilted it. Empty. A sigh made its way between your dry lips and soon enough your cold hands found their way back onto your keyboard, resting lifeless on the keys.

You were so focused on getting this paper done that you didn’t notice Hoseok getting up to make you another warm drink. His presence lurked tall behind your back as his left arm entered your peripherals, putting a black mug down on the table, making sure to push away all your scattered papers. He grabbed your other mug under your soft stare. You lazily reached for the new drink and brought it up to your mouth.

“Thank you Hobi.” you murmured.

He put the other mug in the sink before standing behind you again, his gentle hands on your shoulders, massaging the sore muscles. You took a long awaited sip. Hm… Chocolate?

“Hobiii… that’s hot chocolate.” you whined cutely.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Okay but dom phil teasing sub Dan on New Year's Eve, telling him he can't come until 12:00

contains frottage, edging, neck kink, daddy kink, facefucking, some hair tugging~


* Dan and Phil were ringing in the new year the way they lived the past one: in their own little world, just the two of them. They were watching the rest of Planet Earth 2 since they’d both fallen asleep watching it last time. 

* Phil suddenly thought of something and he hid his smirk with a casual rub of his nose, casually checking the time on his phone and then glancing over to Dan, who was intently studying the hummingbird currently onscreen. They were lying in Phil’s bed, close together, so Phil casually rolled over onto his side to face Dan, moving his hand underneath the covers to brush past Dan’s crotch as he “innocently” settled his hand on Dan’s hip, still looking at the TV so he wouldn’t raise suspicion. Dan shifted a little and looked at him, but quickly went back to looking at the TV.

* Phil nestled his head on Dan’s chest, making sure he was close enough to Dan’s neck. He started lightly stroking Dan’s cock through his pants, not giving enough stimulation to do anything other than get him worked up. He could feel Dan tense underneath him, and quickly tilted up to start licking at Dan’s neck. Dan gasped at the sudden feeling and immediately leaned his head back to give Phil better access, arching up into the touch. 

* “Phil,” he said breathily, clenching a hand in the back of Phil’s shirt, which was all he could reach at the moment. 

* “Hey, I have a fun idea,” Phil said huskily, purposely speaking into Dan’s neck so his warm breath would fan across the now-wet skin. He was rewarded by Dan shivering. “How about you don’t cum until midnight? It’ll be a fun start to 2017.” 

* “What time is it now?” Dan asked, his voice jumping higher suddenly when Phil stroked his cock with more pressure. 

* “Almost 11,” Phil said, cutting off Dan’s objection by continuing to lick Dan’s neck. He could feel Dan writhe under him, begging him to do more.

* Phil pushed back the covers a little so he could straddle Dan, but when they both shivered at the cold air, Phil pulled the blanket up again before holding down Dan’s arms and kissing him hard. Phil started grinding his hips against him as they started making out, and Dan moaned into his mouth.

* With Dan’s hands out of the way, Phil started kissing down Dan’s jaw and ended at his neck. He quickly looked up to make cheeky eye contact with him before sucking at Dan’s neck, using teeth a little to intensify the sensation. Dan bucked hard underneath him and a breathy, “Fuck,” slipped from his lips. 

* Phil abruptly stopped and got off of Dan, reaching for something in his bedside drawer as he smirked at Dan’s protest. 

* “Tell me when you’re about to cum or I’ll punish you,” Phil said, his cheerful tone totally at odds with what he was saying. He sat on top of Dan again and held up a vibrator; Dan wiggled under him as he whined, “Nooooo!” 

* “Good boys only cum when Daddy says,” Phil said firmly. He held down Dan’s hands by putting his shins over them, before turning on the vibrator and pressing it to Dan’s crotch over his clothes. The stimulation was muted somewhat because of his clothes but it was still enough to get Dan to roll his hips against it. Phil stroked the vibrator over Dan’s cock since it was easily visible through the material after what they’d done already, and he could feel Dan’s hands flex. Phil watched Dan bite his lip and arch his back again, panting a little as Phil turned the vibration up. 

* “No, Daddy, don’t stop,” Dan whined when Phil suddenly turned the vibrator off and put it on the bed next to them. Phil ran his finger along the outline of Dan’s cock teasingly before flicking his inner thigh. “Shhh, baby, be a good boy for Daddy.” 

* Phil kept lightly running his finger back and forth; it wasn’t enough to anything other than frustrate Dan, who desperately wanted to be touched again. “Daddy,” Dan whined. “Stop teasing me.” 

* “I told you already that you’re not cumming until midnight,” Phil said, moving his hand away completely. He got off of Dan and picked up the vibrator again, turning it up high before pressing it against him again, and Dan yelled at the sudden sensation, his fingers clenching the bedsheets tightly. 

* “No touching, now,” Phil told him. “Keep your hands right there.” Dan moaned, his cheeks pink, and then Phil suddenly turned the vibrator off again. He sat there looking at Dan who was breathing hard, still clenching the bedsheets so that he could forcibly remind himself that he wasn’t allowed to touch himself. 

* “Please, Daddy, touch me,” Dan begged, his eyes wide and imploring. 

* “I don’t think I will,” Phil said, turning a little so he was looking away from Dan but could still see him out of the corner of his eye. “If you keep this up, maybe I won’t let you cum at all.” He glanced at Dan to see his reaction: Dan bit his lip and looked horrified. “I’ll be good, Daddy,” he said desperately.

* “Good boy.” Phil praised him as he hooked his fingers in Dan’s waistband. “Hips up so I can pull these down.” Dan immediately obeyed. Phil only pulled his pants and underwear down enough to access his cock and started softly stroking him, too light to really get Dan going. 

* “Only about half an hour left, baby,” Phil said, rubbing Dan’s tip. Dan gasped at the feeling. 

* Phil closed his mouth around the head of Dan’s cock, licking at the same spot he’d rubbed with his thumb just before. He also slipped a hand under Dan to squeeze his butt, purposely digging his nails in a little bit. When Dan thrust up into Phil’s mouth, Phil sat up and looked at him as a warning, before using his other hand to firmly hold Dan’s hips down. He licked a long stripe up the underside of Dan’s cock, his tongue flat, before licking with the tip of his tongue at Dan’s frenulum, then suddenly took all of Dan’s cock into his mouth. He made eye contact with Dan before bobbing his head up and down, barely using his tongue so he could tease Dan some more. 

* “Daddy,” Dan moaned. Phil took the hint and drew away from Dan. “You’re such a good boy for me,” Phil said, caressing Dan’s face. “Suck.” 

* Phil slipped two of his fingers into Dan’s mouth, and Dan licked at it like it was Phil’s cock. Phil pumped his fingers a little, letting them slide across Dan’s lips. Since Dan was occupied with Phil’s fingers, Phil took the opportunity to start stroking Dan in earnest, still not intending for him to cum but wanting to ramp up the teasing. Dan moaned around Phil’s fingers, sucking harder.

* Phil had only really intended to just tease Dan and then let him cum, but seeing Dan undone like that… Phil withdrew his fingers from Dan’s mouth and took his cock out of his pants. “Daddy wants you to suck him off, is that okay?”

* Dan nodded furiously, shifting a little so Phil could arrange himself. Kneeling over Dan, Phil guided his cock into Dan’s waiting mouth, holding himself up using the headboard. “Remember, no touching yourself.” 

* Phil couldn’t help putting a hand on Dan’s head to feel the back-and-forth movement, tugging at his hair a little. Dan moaned at the slight pain and started going faster. “You’re so pretty like this, you’re such a good boy,” Phil groaned. “Can Daddy fuck your mouth?”

* Dan looked up at him and let his jaw go slack, an open invitation. Phil gripped Dan’s hair harder and maintained eye contact with him as he thrust into Dan’s mouth. “You feel so good,” Phil panted. 

* Phil didn’t bother to let Dan know when he was about to cum, since Phil liked to surprise Dan with it and Dan didn’t mind. 

* Tucking himself back into his pants, Phil checked the time again. 

* “Looks like it’s time for you to get your reward,” Phil said. He kissed Dan, tasting himself on his lips, and nibbling at Dan’s bottom lip. They made out for a while, Phil grinding on Dan again. His pants rubbing against Dan’s bare cock caused slightly uncomfortable friction but at the same time Dan was relieved to have some stimulation again. 

* Phil kissed and licked at Dan’s neck again, just to make sure Dan’s erection was fully present, and Dan moaned loudly, keyed up from all of the edging. 

* Phil took Dan’s cock in hand, settling his mouth over whatever else he couldn’t hold, and started pumping his hand and bobbing his head at the same time, looking Dan right in the eyes. He loosely laced the fingers of his left hand with Dan’s right hand.

* When he felt Dan grasp his fingers tighter and heard him breathe harder, he took his mouth off of Dan and blew cold air at the wet skin, continuing to pump with his hand. “Cum for me, baby.” 

* Cum splattered all over Dan’s shirt, and Phil stroked him through his orgasm before kissing him sweetly on the lips. 

* “Happy New Year, Dan,” he said, smiling. “I love you.” 

* “Happy New Year, Phil,” Dan replied, still breathing hard but grinning. “I love you too.” 

* Dan stripped his shirt off, turning it inside out before throwing it on the floor and grabbing one of Phil’s shirts to put on. He settled next to Phil, who threw an arm around his shoulders and pulling him in close. Dan rested his head on Phil’s chest.

* “Can we rewind to the part with the hummingbirds? When you started touching me I got distracted and I really want to appreciate their aesthetic.”

* “You’re such a nerd… But okay, I do want to see them too. Flying backwards is so cool.”


hey buddies hope you all had a nice holiday and the start of 2017 has been good to you!

just as a heads up I probably won’t write another hc until after next week as my grandma just passed away this week, so I have to write a speech (apparently not a eulogy because someone else is doing that…) for her funeral.

- Rebecca

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