i hope everyone is asleep

09.23.17 // a busy week of labs and seminars but glad I made it through, also fun fact, I live off of (iced) coffee and falling asleep on trains 💪🏻 hope everyone is doing well!! rooting for you all 💕 (also, I’m late to the party, but can we just take a moment to appreciate the beauty that is the Love Yourself album and also the svt mv schedule ,,, I’m suffering ,,, unit leaders mv is coming /very soon/ and idk what to do with myself) 

🎧: mic drop - bts // ig: kaiistudies

I painted a little Rufus with some daisies and hydrangea flowers! 🌼
This was really fun to paint :>

Get well soon Stefán! 💜

anonymous asked:

If you have time, could you write a drabble in which Harry praises Louis' mouth? You know what i mean haha Louis' pics from today where he smokes made me think some things haha Only if you want tho haha

Warning for blindfolding, face fucking, and light d/s undertones

Keep reading

let’s talk tony awards!

want to discuss your opinions on the tony season? what shows do you love? what shows do you hate?

send me an ask regarding:

  • nominations
  • shows that’ll do well
  • shows that’ll do poor
  • shows you think will win
  • shows you think will lose
  • who you want to win
  • who you want to lose
  • and anything in between!

this is purely to encourage a health discussion in the fandom, as well as allow people to discuss opinions in a safe place! all asks will be responded to in a polite, considerate way despite whatever my opinion is! feel free to reblog this if you want to encourage discussion on your blog too!

Rebelcaptain fic: A bad idea

“Ok, this is bloody ridiculous,” Jyn finished her drink, before slamming it down onto the coffee table in front of them. “Let’s just have sex.”

Cassian choked on his beer. 

IE: the friends with benefits fic we all need (wc: 11631)
Read on AO3 

“This is so stupid!” Jyn exclaimed, throwing up her hands in indignation. “The police are literally still after them and they think that this is a good time to fuck?”

“It’s for the aesthetic,” Cassian deadpanned, before smirking a little. “It’s a blockbuster spy movie, Jyn. I wouldn’t think about it too hard.”  

She snorted, taking a gulp of the beer that each of them were working on as they watched together. Slumped down on the battered sofa that Jyn had initially bought in a second-hand furniture shop for 10 quid, her legs were stretched out over Cassian’s lap, his non-beer arm resting over them. Naturally, on screen the moderately-famous actors were descending into sensual jump cuts with less and less clothes, breathy kisses and dramatic music.

“Did the lighting department go on strike when they shot this scene?” Jyn muttered. Cassian laughed and hushed her in response, leaning over to hit her shoulder.

She had to suppose, though, that for all its dramatics, it actually wasn’t a badly shot scene. You know, in comparison. She titled her head slightly, eyebrows furrowing as the actors rolled on the hotel bed, the two moaning and kissing and exchanging equally blissful looks at what was clearly supposed to be the moment of penetration.

Oh, blimey

Keep reading

Guess he wants to play (a love game) - Chapter 1 - diamondjacket - SKAM (TV) [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Title: Guess he wants to play (a love game) (Part 1 of 2)
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences (may go up in Part 2)
Category: M/M
Word Count: 4,888 (Part 1)
Relationship: Even Bech Næsheim/Isak Valtersen
Characters: Isak Valtersen, Even Bech Næsheim, Jonas Noah Vasquez, Mahdi Disi, Magnus Fossbakken, Eva Kviig Mohn, Sonja (SKAM), a brief cameo from John McEnroe
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Tennis, Tennis, Friends to Lovers, Sports, Fluff, Humor, Pining, allusions to bipolar disorder, Boy Squad, Evakteket challenge

He’s reverted to his previous task of lacing up his shoes when Even walks through the locker room door, practice bag slung over his shoulder and a heartbreakingly weary look on his face. By all accounts, he looks like shit.

Doesn’t stop Isak from wanting to climb him like a fucking oak tree, unfortunately.

Or: A professional tennis AU.

[Read it on AO3 here.]

anonymous asked:

Serious question. Do you ship them in a "they are so cute together, you can see how much they love each other" or "there is tension between them, I hope they fuck their brains out when everyone is asleep" kind of way?

Well there is cuteness

Originally posted by jkisart

And there is tension

Originally posted by missbaptan

I live for these moments they share on stage

Originally posted by sunnylattae

And more for the ones behind it (THANK GOD for the DVDs and Bombs)

Originally posted by sunnylattae

These genuine smiles they get when they interact 

Originally posted by jiminiemini

Or when time stops and their eyes meet and lock

Originally posted by bts-is-best-bias

When a small gesture makes my heart feel warm

Originally posted by mimibtsghost

Another one makes it skip a beat (or just stop)

Originally posted by kookmint

So close…

Originally posted by kookieminnies

So caring … 

Originally posted by harunyany

So playful …

Originally posted by yahjiminie

So rude …

Originally posted by jimchimmie

And this is just the tip of the iceberg for this ship. How can I choose between two extremities? Can’t I just enjoy every moment they share? I don’t have to decide either they kiss or f#ck. I am just here holding popcorn and an oxygen mask to enjoy and try to survive the ride. If my ship sails it’s heaven if they don’t well I died and went there a couple times so it’s all good ^^ 

☆Happy Halloween !!!!! ☆

Sound Asleep

A/N: I hope everyone enjoys :)

Harry has had a long day full of interviews and meetings, so you expect him to be tired when he finally gets home.

“Hi,” you greet him with a hug.

“‘Lo, love,” he replies through a yawn.

“I already ate dinner, but I saved you some of you want me to heat it up for you.”

“That’d be good, thanks.”

He continues into the living room, heading straight for the couch.

A few minutes later the microwave timer goes off, and you pull the dish out.

“Harry,” you call, “The food’s ready.”

When Harry doesn’t come right away, you go investigate. You find him lying on the couch, already sound asleep.

You kneel down next to him, softly asking, “Do you want to go eat?” as you brush the hair from his face.

“No,” he pouts without even opening his eyes.

“Do you want to go to bed?”

“No, just lay with me, please,” he whines.

You know that you probably should make him eat and go to bed, but you can’t deny his pouty, sleepy face.

You grab a blanket before lying down next to him. He wraps his arms around you and nuzzles his face into your neck.

“Goodnight,” he mumbles.

“Goodnight Harry.”


This is my first attempt at a fan fiction writing. I decided to do it based off of the game, The Sophomore, from the Choices game app. Hopefully, it comes out decently. 


The setting: Happens after Becca went all vindictive in Chapter 9

Background Soundtrack: “Say You Love Me” by Jessie Ware

||Even though Becca had this moment of complete and utter lack of human compassion, my character and myself love her. I really hope she gets her ish together because I don’t feel like breaking up with another roommate. Especially if one of them gets to fall in love with someone. ((petty, I know)) ||

I didn’t know what to think when everything seemed to crumble. I was disappointed and hurt that she would cause this much pain. It was a betrayal I felt to my very core. All I could do was just stare at her, her face was cold and arms crossed. What happened to the girl that would give me a smirk, but graze her fingers over my hand when she walked by? This wasn’t her. This was what people would always say about her. As I kept staring at her, I could hear Madison in the background crying. She was humiliated and hurt by the one person she always trusted and wanted to be around. Aside from me, she was the only one that wanted to be around her. All I could do was just stand there, my stomach churning and my heart racing. 

I turned my eyes to Madison, “Madison, I am so sorry, I had… I didn’t realize…” My mouth was dry; my mind was spinning. I watched as Madison squeezed her eyes shut, the tears still flowing. “Stop.  Just stop, please,” her voice broke as she tried to swallow back a sob. Covering her mouth to try to keep it in, she turned and walked away. The other girls all stood around, watching all the drama unfold. Looking from me, to Becca, to the small form of Madison in the distance. I’ve never seen so many eye rolls and heard so many huffs than I did in that moment. No one said anything and seeming to get bored, they all walked away. I stared at their backs, hearing their catty comments as their voices began to fade away.

I heard a small snort from Becca’s mouth as she held a smirk that was as cold as what I imagine an ice queen’s would be. “Hope they have fun figuring all that out. Madison won’t even know what to do.” She had a look of evil pride on her face. A look that broke my heart and flipped the switch in me to ‘Pissed Off’ mode. I took three deep breaths before I spoke, squared my shoulders and looked her right in the eye. I opened my mouth, ready to speak my mind-

“Save it, MC. I don’t have the time to listen to your holier-than-thou speech. You’re disappointed, hurt, blah-blah-blah. What’s done is done and I won’t apologize for what I did.” She stared me down with her chilly glare. 

That’s when I felt my shoulders slump slightly. I searched for some sort of break in her face. Something to show me she felt bad. Nothing. I swallowed, let out what air I had in my lungs, turned around and walked away slowly. She hollered after me, “I knew you’d leave eventually, everyone does. And you know what? Good riddance to you all. I don’t need this bullshit. I am not going to change for anyone.” I stopped for a moment, I wanted to turn around. What did I want to say? To tell her that I stayed with her through it all. That I loved her. That I was in love with her. I felt the sting of hot tears fill my eyes and I felt like the wind was knocked out of me. 

I crossed my arms across my chest tightly and chewed on the inside of my cheek to keep from letting the cry that formed in my throat from escaping. That’s when I heard slow, quiet footsteps get closer, I could feel her getting closer to me. I heard her breathing, felt the electricity that always seemed to spark when we were near each other. No, I won’t turn around. With that, my head dropped and I continued walking. I didn’t look back and I didn’t stop the tears as they streamed down my face. I just kept walking, walking without direction. This wasn’t a pain I’ve felt before, not even when Kaitlyn and I broke up. This was deeper, much deeper.


I found myself back at the house at some point. I looked at my phone and saw I had several missed calls and texts from my roommates. None of them from the one person I was hoping to see. I don’t know how long I was standing there, staring at the house, staring at the window that was linked to her room. I took a deep, shaky, breath. I kept feeling my eyes start to droop from exhaustion, but every time I felt them close I saw her. Her blonde hair, bright eyes and a smile that she saved only for me. I hope everyone is still asleep, I thought to myself. I walked up to the door and carefully and as quietly as I could, unlocked it. Trying to avoid the door from making a sound, I slid through the frame and door as tightly as possible. 

Turning around to close the door so slowly and softly, I heard an angry voice behind me, “where the hell have you been?!” it was Zack’s voice, “we have been worried sick. You don’t call or answer our texts! We didn’t know where you were or if you were even alive!” I heard more footsteps. I felt all the eyes of the whole gang stare at the back of my head. “I-I’m sorry,” I let my forehead land on the door with a thunk. I kept swallowing trying to keep another round of tears from falling. Kaitlyn’s stern voice came next, “well? Where the hell did you go?” Mumbling to the ground, “I don’t want to talk about it.” I knew they wouldn’t accept that response, and that’s when I felt a hand on my shoulder. “MC, what happened?” It was James’ voice this time. “I get a call, asking if you were with me… we were just worried because this isn’t like you.” 

I turned to him slightly, but talking loud enough for everyone to hear, “I appreciate you guys,” I cleared my throat to keep it from cracking, “but I really don’t want to talk about it, I just want to go to my room. Please.” That’s when I turned around fully and glanced at all their faces, they turned from anger to shock. I imagine I looked as good as I felt. Kaitlyn stepped forward with sheer worry on her face, “MC, please, talk to us? We just want to know that you’re ok…” Her voice drifted off as I stared back down at the floor. “Please just let me go to my room.” With that, I forced my weary legs to move forward, past all my friends, down the hall and to my room. I opened and closed my door just as carefully as I had coming into the house. 

Perhaps to be continued…?

The Past is a Different Country

Part One can be found here: http://robinine-blog.tumblr.com/post/165123148588/the-past-is-a-different-country

Part Two is here: http://robinine-blog.tumblr.com/post/165160561770/the-past-is-a-different-country

Part Three is here: http://robinine-blog.tumblr.com/post/165268449865/the-past-is-a-different-country

Part Four is here: http://robinine-blog.tumblr.com/post/165373103435/the-past-is-a-different-country

Or if you prefer AO3; https://archiveofourown.org/works/12027279/chapters/27224769

Ok guys, prepare yourselves

Chapter Five - The Mom Question

The kids share an uncertain look.

Uncle Donald hasn’t moved. Hasn’t looked at them. Just. Stood there. Looking. At nothing.

“I think we broke him.” Louie whispers.

“The Spear of Selene! Don!” A woman screamed dramatically,

“Ahh!” Dewey wakes with a scream, rolling out of the hammock and crashing into the cushions below.

“I know!” Donald yells, bouncing round in circles with Della.

Della giggles, “We found it, we found it!” She sings.

“You’re a legend Del!” Donald grins, spinning her.

Dewey scrambled up, rubbing his eyes. “What?”

“Hey cuz!” Della pounced, picking him up and spinning him around. “You’re awake!” She hugged him to her chest, then plonked him back down again.

Dewey inched back, only to bump into Donald.

Donald chuckled, and put a hand on his shoulder, bending down to whisper, “she hasn’t slept much.”

Dewey looks back at his Mom. She’s his Mom. There’s a lump in his throat.

She’s dangling Huey upside down.


Dewey rushes over, she’s going to drop him! But Huey is laughing as Della swings him right side up.

“Um… hi?” He waves, Della is giving him an amused look. Huey waves back.

“Want to hold him?” Della asked, and Dewey barely holds out his hands before his brother, his brother’s a baby! is dropped in his arms.

“That one is…” Della paused. She glanced down into the crib. “Louie is in green… ”

Dewey stared frozen at the bundle of fluff in his arms, barely daring to breath. Huey stares back. The smile is gone, and Huey is clearly trying to decide whether he likes this new situation.

“Huey Del. You dressed Huebert in red, blue for Dewford, green for Louis.” Donald recited, he’s grinning as he leans against the wall.

“Hi?” Dewey mouths, and Huey gives him a mournful look and pats him on the chest.

“Right!” Della spins back around, and Dewey takes a step back, cradling the tiny duckling to his chest. She points, “That’s Huey. Huey, this is…”

“Dewey?” Dewey fills in when Della swirls her hand in a come on motion.

“Nope!” Della declares, “one Dewey limit! We already have a Dewey.”

“Della.” Donald raises an eyebrow at her.

Della glanced over to her brother, “Donald.” She echoes in the same tone of voice, and gestured wildly “What are we meant to yell when he falls into the sea again? Can’t yell Dewey or we’ll be looking for a hatchling to rescue instead of a cousin.”

Dewey laughed, and she grinned down at him. “So cuz, what are we calling you?”

Dewey shrugged, and rested his chin against the soft down feathers on Huey’s head. “I’ve always been Dewey.”

“With a name like yours, I’m not surprised.” Donald commented.

Della put her hand under her chin and leaned forward. Dewey leaned back, bumping against the wall. ‘Hmm’ she vocalised loudly. “Main character trait?”

“I’m impulsive?” Dewey tried to inch sideways.

“Imp!” Della yelled, bouncing backwards and twirling. “Don, this is now Imp.”

“Della.” Donald rolled his eyes, “If you don’t like it, she’ll probably forget.” He mock glares at Della, “When she gets some SLEEP!”

“Sleep? Sleep? What is that? I think I remember a vague period of rest… maybe Wednesday?” Della stares off into space, counting off her fingers, “Or was it Thursday?”

Dewey giggles. “I like it.” He decides, his Mom gave him a nickname. Everything is soft and fluffy. Mom’s like him. He’s like Mom.

She’s utterly terrifying, and amazing, and…

His chest hurts. He wants to cry.

Donald slips over to sit beside him, a warm arm slung around his shoulders and he’s pulled into a hug.

“My mom…” he whispers, and he doesn’t know if Donald hears him. He doesn’t know if he cares.

Donald sighs, and runs his fingers through Dewey’s feathers, straightening them as he goes. Huey gets lifted away, but the little duckling leans over to wipe at Dewey’s tears.

“So, we’re off to South America. Do you have your passport?” Donald asks.

Dewey shakes his head.

“I’m going to get my plane ready. Sorry Imp, maybe next time, we can’t exactly sneak you across the border.” Della declares, “It’s not like there’s a hidden nook perfectly sized to hold a kid or two.” She winks, and swings herself out the boat

Dewey sneaks a look at Donald, more than a little confused.

“I think we should eat. How do you feel about a pasta bake?” Donald nudged him.

“Like I could eat it all?” Dewey offered.

Donald laughed, and hauled him up. “Let’s put the fluff balls in the pen so they can watch, and we’ll make supper.”

Uncle Donald suddenly fell to his knees, digging his fingers into the carpet. It’s sticky and slimy. He’s sinking. He’s drowning. “What. Happened.” He still can’t look at them. He can’t see them. There’s the heavy scent of rot, it’s too humid out here.

The kids start talking all at once, and he can’t understand, it’s just noise. He can barely hear them over the rushing of the river. A rising cascade of sound.

Donald swiped his hand across, cutting them off. Della’s gone. Imp’s gone. He’s all that’s left.

No. He’s not there. He’s not. He has to be here. For them. The river dulls to a distant roar. There’s carpet under his hands, not mud.

Dewey needs him.

“Huey. Explain. Now.”

“So there we were, surrounded by Beagle boys, crammed between two shipping crates, Ma Beagle getting closer and closer, and you know what Scrooge says?”

Dewey leaned forward, balancing on the edge of his seat. “No?”

“I’m sorry lass, I should never have insulted your cooking!” Donald posed dramatically with the pepper shaker. “He pulls out one of Della’s rock cakes, and threw it at Ma Beagle. Bang!” Donald slammed down the pepper shaker.

“Really?” Dewey said, standing on his chair and staring up at Donald, wide eyed and tail wagging.

“Down that old hag went, we come storming out…”

The door opened, “Sounds like you’re having fun Don.” Della said as she let herself in.

Donald blushed, and rubbed the back of his head, “Well…”

“Having fun Imp?” She asked, much calmer than before.

“You are both amazing!” Dewey said, welding the table cutlery in imitation of a sword fight.

Della laughed as she brushed past the baby pen, glancing down at the three young ducklings “I see Don has been telling you some tall tales.”

“Not that tall.” Donald said, “And I see someone took a nap.”

“Yep. I’m all ready to fly when you are.”

“After dinner please.” Donald said, poking his fork at Dewey, “And remember Imp. There’s a lose panel behind the wing. Leads straight to a crawl space.”

Dewey blinked. Glancing between the two as they shared knowing looks.

Wait. No. Uncle Donald wouldn’t…

“Get in the car.” Uncle Donald ordered. He’s shaking and Huey really doesn’t think he should be driving.

“But uncle Donald.” Huey started, he can’t let his uncle do this. He’s already lost one brother.

“In. The. Car.” Huey flinched and looked to Louie.

Louie is wide eyed, and staring at Uncle Donald. Webby whimpered, and no Huey isn’t going to let his uncle do something crazy.

“Donald. You are not driving.” Mrs Beakley said, emerging from the shadows. Huey sighs in relief. Backup! They’re saved!

“I’m going to kill him.” Donald growled.

Huey can’t stop the small noise of protest, any more than he can let go of Louie.

“Fine. After we get Master Dewey back.”

Donald nodded sharply, and tossed the keys at Beakley.

Huey gulps.

Dewey was humming under his breathe, half dancing, half sneaking to the tune of his theme music.

Donald and Della had made some very obvious noises about getting the ducklings settled and strapped in before take off.

Time aplenty to sneak aboard.

“Behind the wing, behind the wing…” There was only one side easily accessible on the plane, right next to the dock between Donald’s houseboat, and Della’s seaplane. He tapped the panels, one by one. And was completely floored when one battered panel popped open.

Wait. Seriously? He glanced back at the loading ramp, where Donald was innocently whistling and rocking one of the ducklings, pacing back and forth while he waited for Della.

“My family is awesome!” He declared, and crawled inside the plane, shutting the panel behind him. There was enough light coming through the grate that he could see a catch and lock on the inside of the panel. “And they’ve done this before?”

He locked the panel in place, and wiggled along the crawl space, until he came to a ladder. Curious, because had they seriously planned this? Dewey climbed the ladder, and found a little cubby hole, softly padded and lined with blankets and pillows, just the right size for a mid sized adult.

Dewey tilted his head, “They have definitely done this before.” As he crawled in and made himself comfortable. It was warm and cozy, smelling ever so familiar. He wondered who had used it last.

He was half asleep when he heard a knocking. “I hope everyone is strapped in.” Donald’s voice came through loud and clear.

“Oh. Right.” Dewey muttered, feeling around for something like a seatbelt, and clicking it in place. “Aye aye captain!”

He heard Donald laugh, “All set Aviator!”

“It looks like clear skies ahead Sailor!” Della responded as she started the engine.

Dewey drifted off, warm and safe. He smiled, his family was so cool.

“Either Scrooge comes out here, or we go in.” Donald growled, slamming his hands on the receptionist’s desk.

“I’m sorry Mr Duck, but I can't…”

Scrooge stormed through the door. Donald had no right to start terrorising his employees.

“Donald?” He snapped, “I don’t know what you think you’re doing…”

“Dewey’s gone.” Donald snapped back.

No. No. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

Scrooge firmed his stance, automatically preparing to dodge a blow. “He ran away? What happened?”

Donald folded his arms, “It’s your fault. If you hadn’t left cursed treasures in your mansion…!”

No. No he checked everything. It was all under lock and key. His home was safe. He made it safe for them.

“Cursed? What did he touch!”

“The Amulet of Kronos, Mr McDuck.” Webby said, sandwiched between Huey and Louie. The boys were both glaring at Scrooge.

It was Della all over again. Donald had that exact same look.

“There’s no such… thing…” Scrooge trailed off. “Ugly stone tablet? Blue glowing eyes?”

“They were red.” Huey said.

A memory flashed in front of his eyes. An impossible dream. An impossible future. But, maybe…?

“I thought it was used up…” Scrooge said, “I suppose… maybe it needed time to recharge?”

Donald came back to him, even after everything. Maybe it wasn’t an impossible future.

“Where’s Dewey?” Donald snapped his fingers in front of Scrooge’s eyes. Scrooge flinched, refocusing on Donald.

“He’s in the past. Somewhere. No. Somewhen.”

Scrooge paused, letting his determination seize him. “And I know how to find him.”

@donaldtheduckdad @miilkydayz Guys, rollercoaster, I just. I had to. My fingers slipped. I tried to warn you.