i read this this morning and it was funny then

It was an accident I swear!
  • Me: *accidentally starts watching supernatural*
  • Me: *accidentally watches 4 seasons in 4 days*
  • Me: *accidentally thinks the dorky Angel and the pie lover are cute together*
  • Me: *accidentally starts shipping my first ship*
  • Me: *accidentally comes across fluff for new found ship*
  • *weeks go by*:
  • Me: *accidentally stays up until 6 in the morning reading smut*
  • Me: *accidentally dedicates 18484939 fan accounts to Destiel*
  • Me: *accidentally falls off bed in the middle of the night over intense feels*
  • Me: *accidentally makes theorise about how it's canon during math class*
  • Me: *reflects of how deep I am in the Destiel trash pit*
  • Me: nO rAgErTs

anonymous asked:

Anon who sent the Batman Musical ask! That was amazing! I laughed so much, and now I can just picture Jason singing/humming the songs on patrol and getting Steph to join in with him

  • there was a nightwing song. it referenced nightwing’s butt at least five times; three of them were puns. dick loves it. he sings it all the time, completely without shame.
    • damian is disgusted
    • why is grayson Like This
  • there was a robin song which was quite good
  • there was also a robin and batgirl song
    • jason and steph take to singing that one if they go on patrol together (or sometimes steph and cass sing it together)
    • there’s a line that goes something like “robin and batgirl here to stop this crime!!” which is perfect for jason and steph and it’s the main thing that they sing to announce their presence to the baddies
    • the best part is that they can switch out red hood and spoiler with it if they want (bc same syllable count), or they can keep it as is because they’re robin and batgirl, or steph can lay claim to robin and jason sings batgirl’s part while they’re kicking ass
    • it’s great
  • the best of adam west batman was there in the musical. and by that i mean there was a whole bunch of “gee willikers batman!” and “holy _____, batman!!”
    • did a tiny dick grayson actually say these things when he was robin? does gotham have an incredibly long memory when it comes to its vigilantes? or did the creators of the musical make it up wholesale as an added bit of humor
    • probably a bit of both honestly
    • the many and varied signs everywhere around the stage are just to be funny, though
  • the family ends up in a kind of competition to see how many quotes they can slip in before bruce notices and makes them stop
    • this game is different from the quote-off/singing competition that they also start to regularly involve themselves in with the rest of their siblings. in this game you get points for how many/most obvious/most obscure quotes/if you can make song lyrics sound like regular speech when talking to batman
    • bruce knows way too many song lyrics/quotes from this musical now
    • he’s so tired
  • a few weeks after the musical premiered, a video shows up on the internet, completely untraceable in the way that means oracle was involved somehow. 
    • in it, the person holding the camera is sneaking up on nightwing and batman. once you get close enough to hear them, it’s easy to see that nightwing is just quoting bits and pieces of the batman musical to batman’s face
    • finally, nightwing says a quote that, in the musical, has a direct response from batman. nightwing looks like he’s gearing up to finish the line and then carry on, but batman turns to him and–
    • he says the next line
    • nightwing nearly falls off the roof
    • “oh shit,” whoever’s holding the camera says, laughing so hard that they fumble their phone and the picture goes shaky
    • by the time it’s steady again, batman has turned to Look at the person with the camera
    • “hood, don’t even think about–” he starts
    • “too late!” red hood says, still laughing, and he takes off running. 
    • the last thing that the viewers can see is a glimpse of the night sky and a vigilante over hood’s shoulder as batman follows him

Things to put in your bujo:

Trackers :

  • Weight
  • Exercise
  • Water
  • Moods
  • Habits
  • Bills
  • Savings
  • Expenses
  • Online shopping
  • Sleep
  • Dreams
  • Periods
  • Whether
  • prayers
  • Grades
  • Assignments
  • Study
  • productivity
  • reading
  • Things learned today
  • Daily reminders
  • Graduate log

Collections :

  • yearly goals
  • New year Resolution page
  • Birthdays
  • Contacts
  • Food recipes
  • Cleaning schedule
  • First aid checklist
  • Level 10 life
  • Curiosity page
  • Morning routine
  • Night routine
  • Movies watched/ to watch
  • Tv shows watched/ to watch
  • Books read/ to read
  • Poetry
  • Movie/book quote
  • Letter to your future self
  • Travel Journal mood board
  • memories log
  • brain dump
  • about the week
  • appointments
  • a month of happiness
  • Advices
  • Packing list
  • Ways to relax
  • your fears and how to overcome them
  • 5-year plan
  • music log
  • Class schedule
  • Swatches
  • Handwriting samples

lists :

  • Bucket list
  • List of achievements
  • What I’m working for (motivational!)
  • Beautiful words to use more often
  • your overused words and phrases
  • Things that inspire you
  • Things that you love
  • Things you find funny
  • Words that inspire you
  • things that make you happy
  • Things to do when you’re stressed out
  • Things to do when you’re bored
  • Things you want/need
  • Things to try
  • Rainy day to do list
  • Favorite smells
  • Favorite games
  • Favorite food
  • Favorite songs/artists
  • Skills to learn
  • drinks to try
  • Topics to self-study
  • Places you have been/ want to visit
  • Useful websites
  • Mood Playlist
  • Line a day diary
  • Plants care guide
  • Concert list
  • master chore list
  • Color schemes 

anonymous asked:

The new New York Times piece titled "And Jesus Said Unto Paul Ryan" is a masterpiece

Before I launch into this, I want to state up front, this is not directed at you, anonymous. Thank you for thinking of me, and the article is a funny read. 

But I also read the article on the train to work this morning (before I ever got this ask) and it has been bothering me all day. I thought about it at lunch. It niggled at me during my healthcare policy class, because the Social Security Act is boring and so was the view out the window. And on the train ride home, I went huh.

I don’t give a fuck whether Paul Ryan is a good Christian. 

I was surprised too! But it turns out, I don’t give a fuck whether any of my elected leaders’ policies are consistent with their professed Christianity. I don’t care whether their policies are consistent with my or anyone else’s Christianity. If the Second Coming happened tomorrow, and Jesus came down on a cloud and handed me the ACA replacement bill, I would still want to see the Congressional Budget Office report about it.

It’s fun to condemn our political leaders for hypocrisy. (God knows most of them are, and so deserve it.) But at the same time, I feel like we keep circling the same fallacy—”well, you know Ryan and his ilk aren’t real Christians; real Christians would [insert political viewpoint here].” It’s a fun fallacy! You pull it out at parties and it gets you off the hook entirely. You might be a thing, but you’re not that thing, so it’s all okay!

The problem with this is that…..well, real Christians are, and have. Real Christians have had slaves or been complicit in slavery, they’ve started wars and genocides and simony and scandal. Real Christians had a vested interest in the oppression of women and the conversion of all people on earth to Christianity. Real Christians killed Jews and Real Christians killed Muslims and Real Christians in the US today have decided to continue that 2000 year unbroken tradition of hate. Real Christians scream outside of abortion clinics. Name it, Real Christians have done it, or been complicit in it. You can’t divorce the words of Jesus from the bits of history or politics you don’t approve of—or at the very least, you can’t pretend as though “Real Christianity” is a totally separate animal, innocent in comparison with its ugly political cousin.

At the end of the day, the Christian Bible has been used to both support and condemn all sorts of political activity since….before the ink of the canon had a chance to dry. And I’m sure that in two hundred years, there will still be thinkpieces arguing that the senator isn’t a real Christian, because a real Christian would have issued a statement welcoming the sentient moss of Zebble-gor to Congress.

But I don’t like it. Because—well, because we’re not a theocracy. Whether someone is a good Christian or a hypocritical Christian is irrelevant. Our elected leaders need to be good leaders. Full stop. They should be guided by honesty and innovation and civic-mindedness and compassion and intelligence; they should be ethical and make choices with integrity, take their position and its obligations seriously, listen to their constituents. If those qualities come out of their commitment to Christianity, that’s fine! But they don’t have to, and I don’t think it’s productive—even within the Christian community—to go back and forth about someone’s religiosity.

I don’t care if Paul Ryan is a good Christian. He can settle that one up with our Lord and Savior when the time comes. But he’s the principal sponsor of a frankly shitty piece of legislation, which offers significant federal savings at the expense of poor and elderly individuals. 

And that’s the sin I’m not ready to forgive.

Today, I fucked up... by falling asleep on my girlfriend’s couch

When I was in high school years ago, my girlfriend and I would often fool around on the couch in her parents living room. Her parents would always go upstairs to watch TV in the evening, so this worked out perfectly for us. During this one particular evening, we both ended up falling asleep with half our clothes off (unintentionally) and slept right through until the morning. I was shocked to wake up the next morning to the sound of her Dad’s footsteps upstairs. I threw my clothes on in record time and tried to run out of the house but that plan did not succeed. I did make it as far as the front door just as her Dad was coming down the stairs. Her Dad is clearly surprised to see me. He slowly says to me: “Oh, hello, what are you doing here?” OK, it was 5:30 in the morning, so this is what comes out of my mouth. I say: “Oh, hi Mr. Jones, I’m just going out fishing for the day, and thought I would come say hello to Susan first.” To my great astonishment, HE BUYS THIS EXPLANATION. He smiles, wishes me good luck fishing, and goes to read the morning paper. Susan told me that years later she told her Mom this story, and the two of them still laugh at her Dad for falling for this.

Check out more TIFUs: Internet`s best fuck ups are here.

And here is the big art on which I have been working for two days.
This was commissionned by ShippingMammals as an illustration for the third chapter of his very famous fanfiction (certainly one of the most read and appreciated on the wole fandom), The Fox and the Rabbit. If you don’t know this very cool story, correct your mistake and go read it : https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11834278/1/The-Fox-and-the-Rabbit

Basically, the art is an adaptation of a specific hilarious moment that happened at the beginning of the third chapter, after Nick and Judy have slept together for the first time !
I think you can barely understand the situation just watching the art… I will not comment much more than that, and i encourage you to go read the fanfiction (or read it once again).

As you can see, i have tried a new style of colorisation, by applying colors directly on a clean pencil line. The result is less realistic, but much more clean and cartoon style. I’m still learning, about coloring. I hope to make progress !

And I also hope you will like this new art as much as I do, even if it’s a little… suggestive. But nontheless funny

Have a wonderful day !

Zieg’

This Is War [3]
Request: jealous!bucky where he tries to outdo the guy in everything and its just ridiculous and funny (Again, wasn’t sure if this was an ACTUAL request, but I thought it would be fun as one :p) 


Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 1069

Warnings: This part is a little angsty? Reader is COLD. 

A/N: Here is part 3!! Feedback would be awesome as always! I hope you enjoy this part and thank you everybody for reading!! It means SO much to me. xo

Keep reading

im gonna type the whole song from memory ok

little town. it’s a quiet village. every day, like the one before. little town, full of little people. waking up to say…bonjour! bounjour! bonjour, bounjour, bonjour! there goes the baker with his tray like always, the same old bread and rolls 2 sell. every morning just the same, since the morning that we came to this poor provencial town. good morning, belle! good morning, mouseir! where you off to? the book shop i read the most wonderful story about a beanstalk and an ogre and a that’s nice

MARIE THE BAGUETTES HURRY UP.

look there she goes the girl is strange no question, dazed and distracted can’t you tell never part of any crowd cuz her head’s up on some cloud no denying she’s a funny girl that belle. bonjour! good day! how is your family? bonjour! good day! how is your wife? I NNEEED,, SXIX EGGS,, that’s too expensive, there must be more than this provincial life! ah belle. good morning! i’ve come to return the book i borrowed. finished already? oh i couldn’t put it down have you got anything new. not since yesterday. that’s alright! i’ll borrow this one. but you’ve read it twice! well it’s my favorite – far off places (?), daring swordfights, magic spells, a prince in disguise. haha, well if you like it all that mutch it’s yours. but sir…i insist. well thank you. thank you very much! look there she goes that girl is so peculiar, i wonder if she’s feeling well. with a dreamy faroff look, and a nose stuck in a book, what a puzzle to the rest of us is belle. oh, isn’t this amazing, it’s my favorite part because, you see…here’s where she meets prince charming, but she won’t discover that it’s him til chapter three. now there’s no wonder that her name means beauty her looks have got no paralllel. but behind that fair facade, i’m afraid she’s rather odd. very different from the rest of us she’s nothing like the rest of us yes different from the rest of us is belle! fuck the gaston part. look there…he goes. isn’t he dreamy. monsieur gaston, oh he’s so cute! (tongue pop) be still, my heart, i’m hardly breathing…he’s such a tall, dark, strong and handsome brute. bonjour PARDON good day MAIS OUI you call this bay WHAT LOVELY GRAPES. ten yards, one pound, SCUZE ME i’ll get my knife PLEASE LET ME THROUGH this bread THOSE FISH its stale THEY SMELL  madame’s mistake–well maybe so there must be more than this provincial life! just watch im going to make belle my wife! look there she goes that girl is strange but special, a most peculiar mademoiselle its a pity and a sin she doesn’t quite fit in cuz she really is a funny girl a beauty but a funny girl she really is a funny girl, that belle – bonjour! bonjour! bonjour! bonjour! bonjour! 🅱️️onjour!

Was Conan Doyle aware of homoeroticism in his writing?

“His face flushed and darkened. His brows were drawn into two hard black lines, while his eyes shone out from beneath them with a steely glitter.  His face was bent downward, his shoulders bowed, his lips compressed, and the veins stood out like whipcord in his long, sinewy neck. His nostrils seemed to dilate with a purely animal lust for the chase,” The Boscombe Valley Mystery, 1891

“When I woke next morning he was in my room, and a funny-looking object he was.  His dressing-gown lay on a chair, and he was putting up a fifty-six pound dumb-bell, without a rag to cover him.” The Stark Munro Letters, 1895

“He had not yet attained his full six foot of stature, but no judge of a man (and every woman, at least, is one) could look at his perfect shoulders, his narrow loins, and his proud head that sat upon his neck like an eagle upon its perch, without feeling that sober joy which all that is beautiful in Nature gives to us,” Rodney Stone, 1895


Keep reading

Another Look Around (Gaston x Reader)

Originally posted by reyskyvalker

Word Count: 2,097

Warnings: None

    Early mornings in your small village of Villeneuve were something of a dream. The soft lavender skies were yawning off the dawn and blossoming into day, a thin, swirling mist drifted above the rooftops and over the distant hills, setting the entire scenery in a hazy, enchanted state. The smell of fresh bread being baked and the aroma of the floral shops wound through the cool air like an intoxicating perfume.

    The premature breeze on your face and the fresh, dewy air was enough to make you beam despite the morning hours. You closed the front door carefully behind you, not wanting to wake your sleeping family and slipped down the steps and through the small gardens that flourished in front of the house.

    The clicking of your boots on the cobblestone was a solitary noise. One of the few other sounds present were the quiet songs of the rising birds, and the creaking of the wooden blacksmith’s sign that hung suspended over his door. It was so simple and quiet and serene that it was easy to imagine that the town was merely frozen in time rather than emerging from the night hours.

    Any time now, you thought to yourself as you took up your usual vantage near the square. Sure enough, it wasn’t more than a minute before the first cheery “bonjour!” rang through the air.

    You squealed a bit as a pair of arms were thrown around your shoulders from behind, and a familiar voice near your ear said, “Guess who?” You laughed and responded jokingly, “Hmm. Prince Charming.” The person gave a light, musical giggle and untangled herself from you to say, “Sorry, no such luck. Guess you’ll have to make due with me for now.” You rolled your eyes and turned to face her. “Oh, how dreadful.”

    Belle smiled widely and embraced you properly. When she pulled back you glimpsed an unfamiliar binding peaking out of the folds of her dress. “New book?” You asked eagerly, linking your arm through hers. Belle’s eyes lit up and she nodded, pulling the novel out of her pocket and holding it out to you as you began to wade through the steadily filling streets. “I found it in the cellar last night,” she explained as you gazed at the worn brown cover lovingly. “The Count of Monte Cristo,” you read.

    The pair of you paused to purchase a few items from Monsieur Jean, then resumed your walk. “I haven’t read it yet,” Belle said, dodging a group of laughing children as they danced past. “But from what I saw when I glanced through it, it seems exciting. Adventure and revenge and romance…”

    “Sounds like the perfect package.”

    “That’s what I thought. But I’m not finished with Romeo and Juliet yet, so you can read it first.”

    You squeezed her arm and grinned broadly. “Thanks.”

    Passing through the crowded rows of vendors every morning was uncomfortable when your family had first moved to Villeneuve. You and Belle had taken instantly to one another, despite the fact that she was considered by the townspeople to be a “funny girl”. It wasn’t long before you became guilty by association and earned yourself the same title. You were the only bookworms in town, the only people who ever thought of leaving for a different life, the only people who were able to disappear into their imaginations to escape the mundane. However at this point, you were both used to it. You learned to ignore the staring eyes and disapproving glances.

    After making a few more stops and greeting several of the shopkeepers good morning, you and Belle had managed to make a full circle around the square. You were just about to join Belle for a late breakfast when you were stopped by a loud, deep voice calling your name from across the street.

    You flinched, closing your eyes and groaning, “Oh no.” Belle snickered, her eyes fixed on the man who’d called to you. “Well,” she said hastily. “I’ll be at the house. Good luck, (Y/N)!”

    Belle gave you a smart smile, then dashed from your side and made her way quickly down the street towards her home.

    “Thanks a lot,” you muttered, shaking your head at your best friend as she disappeared from view. Steeling yourself, you slowly turned to face the man swaggering towards you, his red coat nearly blinding you in the bright sunlight.

    “Bonjour, Gaston,” you greeted politely.

    Gaston flashed a dashing white smile, the edges of his eyes crinkling slightly as he took your hand and placed a kiss to the skin. “Good morning, Mademoiselle,” he returned, his voice simultaneously rough and silky.

    “Mademoiselle? Really, Gaston, have we not know each other long enough for you to remember my name?” You teased lightly, beginning to walk slowly towards Belle’s. “On the contrary, (Y/N), yours is a name I could never forget,” Gaston assured you, following instantly. You resisted the temptation to roll your eyes.

    Gaston was easily the most popular figure in the village, as well as the handsomest. The only problem was that he knew it, and rarely did he try to conceal that fact. When he walked by, women would melt like snow on a summer day, and men would stare after him in envy. A former war captain, Gaston was most certainly an impressive sight. His chest was broad and strong, his skin tanned, his arms and legs thick with lean muscle, and his hair was dark and shiny. His face could’ve been carved from enchanted stone, his jaw and cheekbones sharp enough to cut, dusted with dark stubble. His lips were nearly always smirking, and his eyes were a smoldering brown. Ever the romantic, the man could make a horse swoon without lifting a finger. There was no denying that he was truly something.

    “You’re flattering me, Gaston,” you replied, brushing your fingers along the iron fence that ran the length of the street. “It’s too early for that.”

    “Well, in that case perhaps I should drop by later this evening.”

    You winced inwardly, realizing that you’d practically walked right into that one. You halted abruptly, causing Gaston - who had been trailing particularly close - to bump into you. You turned to him with a slightly annoyed expression, to which he merely smiled apologetically. You pursed your lips, trying to find a kind way to refuse his offer. In the end all that came out was “Um…not this evening.”

    The shaky and terribly unconvincing way in which you’d spoken made even you cringe. Unlike Belle, you didn’t despise Gaston, and sometimes even enjoyed his company. However his constant attempts at wooing were a bit off-putting at times, and soon they began to blend together into one big blur of flowers and romantic gestures. It was because of this that you declined his invitation, yet the last thing that you wished to be was rude or insensitive…or in this case, awkward.

     There was a falter in Gaston’s smile as he asked, “You have other engagements?” You bit your lip debating whether lie and tell him that you had plans, or to tell the truth and admit that you simply weren’t in the mood for company. You wound up hesitating too long, causing an ungraceful “Yes” to tumble through your lips.

    You wheeled around quickly so that Gaston couldn’t see you scrunch your face in frustration. You were usually able to handle these situations with relative ease, but for some reason, today was different.

  Gaston continued to follow you as you set off once again towards Belle’s, clearly seeing straight through your terrible lies. This time when he spoke, his voice was suave, but earnest.

  “Oh, (Y/N), how long must you keep this up?” he said, practically walking on top of you, his chest to your shoulder, somehow managing not to trip either of you. “It’s been three months and talking to you is practically like trying to hold a conversation with a brick wall.”

  You gave a short, breathy laugh and countered, “It’s been four years, Gaston. Ever since we met I couldn’t go five steps without either you or LeFou hanging over my shoulder. Surely even you can see how that might get a bit old after a while?”

  Gaston didn’t reply immediately. In fact, he stopped where he was, and you had made it to the gate of Belle’s house by the time he pursued you again. You slipped through the iron fence and closed it just as Gaston arrived, planting his hands on either side of where yours rested on the gate. “Very well then, perhaps my attempts have been a bit excessive over the years –”

  “A bit.”

  “- but answer me one thing, (Y/N) …if not me then who?”

  You opened your mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Gaston’s expression was imploring and sympathetic. Whether or not it was sincere, you couldn’t tell. You swallowed, unable to respond.  

  “What about after your father and mother die?” Gaston went on, slowly sliding his hands to cover yours. “And it’s just you and the responsibilities that you won’t be able to fulfill without a husband at your side. You know what happens to spinsters in this town once they’re left on their own…” He leaned forward over the fence. “…they wind up on the streets, begging for food and spare coins from complete strangers until the day that they die sad, lonely deaths…”

  Your heartbeat was accelerating. If you had the will, you would’ve informed Gaston that coming upon a single stranger in Villeneuve was immensely rare, and that you obviously wouldn’t be alone, thanks to your friendship with Belle. But the words simply wouldn’t leave your throat.

  By this point, you and Gaston were practically touching noses. Your cheeks were now the color of his crimson coat, and your gaze was trapped in his intense brown eyes like flies trapped in honey.

  “I wouldn’t be able to live knowing such a fate had befallen you,” he whispered.

  You swallowed thickly. “Are you implying that I’ll never find another man besides you?” you practically squeaked. Gaston smiled sympathetically. “Of course not. Only that time won’t wait for you.”

  “So you think I simply haven’t met the right man?”

  “Well -”

  “Because it’s a small village, Gaston. I’ve met them all. So, I suppose that means that my future husband won’t be a resident of these parts.”

  With that, you gathered enough willpower to pull your wrists from his grasp and back away towards the front door. Gaston gave what sounded like an indignant sigh. “Well, maybe you just need to take another look around!” he said, easily swinging himself over the fence and following you to the steps.

    You turned back around once you reached the top, seeing Gaston perched beneath you, one leg mounted on the second step, staring up at you. You raised your eyebrows.

  “Another look around?”

  “Exactly!”

  “Preferably in your general direction, I suppose.”

  A dazzling smirk slid across his lips.

  You laughed out loud, turning your back and grasping the knob of the door. Before you could open it however, Gaston tread up the steps two at a time, throwing one hand against the door to prevent you from escaping him, leaving you trapped between the pane and his body.

  “Gaston!” you practically whined. He looked pleased with himself, but stealthily masked it. “Please, (Y/N),” he said quickly, giving you a desperate smile. “Just one more chance. That’s all I’m asking of you. And if in the end your feelings are unchanged, then I will relent to your wishes and leave you be.”

  You were surprised to see his eyes suddenly soften, and for the moment, his entire demeanor changed. The cockiness faded to nonexistence, and sincerity bloomed in its place, so raw and real that you felt butterflies going haywire in your stomach. Your chest was brushing his, the difference in your heights was laughable, yet somehow he seemed so, so, close…

  In one swift move, you managed to remove his arm from the door, yank it open, and slide inside. But before closing it, you hastily informed, “It wouldn’t be completely pointless for you to look for me at the tavern tonight.”

  Then before the heat in your face became too evident, you closed the door and practically collapsed against it, your heart pounding and an extremely stupid grin on your lips. It certainly didn’t help when you heard Gaston’s deep, husky laughter ringing just on the other side of the wood.

  Belle peered quizzically at you from the kitchen for a few seconds, then she frowned as she asked, “What on earth happened to you?”

Soulmate!Wonwoo

Originally posted by minghaon

  • soulmate au where you can hear your soulmate’s thoughts
  • the first time you heard your soulmate’s voice was when you were 12
  • a really quiet voice was talking and it seemed like they were reading a book
  • you listened to his story telling for a while before you finally perked up
  • and you scared him
  • it was endearing though
  • and you two exchanged names before the connection was cut off
  • fast forward to present day
  • Wonwoo’s love for reading only increased
  • often while you’re working, you’ll hear him reading paragraphs from a book
  • or sometimes he’ll randomly pop into your head, and he gets all giddy bc “i found a new book, its really nice, can we read it together”
  • and you get a heart attack bc wow he’s really the cutest
  • “y/n i heard you say that”
  • “bYE WoNWoo”
  • sometimes you hear him tear up bc the book he’s reading is really sad
  • and other times you hear him say something weird like ‘where are birds ears’
  • you’re just ‘really wonwoo, really. Its one in the morning shut up and go to sleep’
  • you two never really wanted to force the meeting, you both believed that it would happen at the right time
  • and it did
  • you walk into a nearby bookstore bc you keep bugging wonwoo about one of the books he read but he won’t tell you the title bc he thinks its funny that way
  • but lucky for you, you remember a paragraph from the book and from your online research you were able to snag the title
  • so you’re in the bookstore like ‘sucks for you wonwoo, i’m going to get my hands on the book’
  • wonwoo is just laughing in his head and you really want to meet him so you can hit him
  • you walk into the aisle of the book and you see this really cute guy standing in the aisle too and he’s holding a book while smiling to himself and you just think to yourself ‘cute guy’
  • wonwoo: WHAT CUTE GUY
  • so you’re standing at the spot where the book is and
  • oh no
  • it’s too high up for you to reach
  • and you’re cursing at him in your head ‘fuck you wonwoo, it’s so high up and i can’t reach the book’
  • now he’s laughing even more and suddenly the guy in the aisle is also laughing 
  • and you’re kinda ‘that’s weird’
  • so you read the title of the book he’s holding and now wonwoo is like
  • ‘wtf how do you know what i’m holding’
  • and you two look at each other and there’s this really big realisation and you two literally shout at each other
  • also wonwoo is teasing you a lot right now bc you actually called him the cute guy from before and this time you really get to hit him
  • unlike a lot of other soulmates that are awkward on the first meeting, you two hit it off really well since you two have talked for years
  • the first date you two have is just a really casual one to a book turned movie and as you’re leaving, you and wonwoo are arguing about which was better: the book or the movie
  • as much as wonwoo doesn’t want to admit, he finds you really really cute
  • ‘i heard that wonwoo’
  • ‘sToP ReAdiNg mY ThOuGhTs’
  • the first time wonwoo told you he loved you was when he was sitting on his bed, watching you in the bathroom as you were brushing your teeth and you looked up into the mirror where you smiled and almost spit out the toothpaste foam because wonwoo was staring at you
  • ‘what’ you’d ask him in your head
  • ‘i love you’ wonwoo answers quietly
  • and now wonwoo becomes this type that doesn’t say he loves you outloud so he’s always saying it in his head to you
  • and you love it bc it just feels like a secret between the two of you
  • once said ‘soonyoung accidentally kissed seokmin which is why they’re far apart’
  • and you started laughing in soonyoung’s face and kept apologizing bc soonyoung just KNOWS wonwoo told you
  • anyways soulmate wonwoo is a really cute and weird person who loves you with his whole heart, and he spends his days talking to you bc he just misses you and he even remembers your favorite paragraphs from books so he can make you happy randomly in the day.
Notes – Zach Dempsey x Reader

Summary: 13 Reasons Why. On tape number 7, as we all know, is the chapter of Zach Dempsey and the “joke” that makes Hannah with the note in her bag.

I heard this song while I was writing.

Words: 2590

Reader’s point of view.

Enjoy it!


Your name: submit What is this?

What were they debating? I listened to many voices, each giving their opinions on the subject that was written on the board. It had turned out to be a suggestion from some of us, anonymously, it might even have tried one of my ideas, but I was sure I had not written anything and put it in the teacher’s bag. I went back to reading the blackboard, drugs, which is so much seen and boring. As if none of those around me knew the subject perfectly, and worse, they had put it into practice. I shrugged and continued to scribble in my notebook as I listened word after word, it was unbelievable that some defended the fact of being killed that way, and they did it in front of an authority. What a bah, at last was the life of everyone.

The bell rang, I sighed, relieved that the torture was finally over. I didn’t complain about the class, it was good as long as the subjects were of the same quality. Not any nonsense that we have been informed since we have “enough maturity” to cover those issues. It was urgent for me to be in college.

“Remember to check your bags!” Exclaimed the teacher in a jovial tone.

I smiled, it was a little exaggerated enthusiasm. I knew how many notes I would have in my bag, maybe one or two, I was safer than one. To get rid of some sermon, Skye and I made a pact, I left a note in her bag and she did the same in mine. We were friends, not intimate but whenever we took the paper we were giving a look and smile of complicity. And there it was, unfolding the piece of paper with a simple hello and an emoticon :P I laughed and put it in my pocket. I had another, I unfolded it, Sheri, and another … Zach? I frowned, he had never left me a note; instead, I thought I didn’t even know i existed for him. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye as he checked his bag, on the contrary, I knew he was on this planet and at school. For a few seconds I noticed his face of disappointment and I waited patiently to get something out of his bag, but nothing, now understood the reason of his expression. What the hell? How could someone as known as Zach Dempsey, basketball star, not have a note? In what world had we fallen? As far as I was concerned, the sportsman was the most beloved, even a Troy Bolton in person.  I buffet in my interior, how curious.

I bit my lip. I had never stopped to leave a note to the aforementioned, I thought that, with so many that would have, mine would be one more of the pile and insignificant. Because i liked him a lot, but, i wasn’t a cheerleader or someone with a notorious talent. I hated it when Mom dragged me to gym classes. And give encouragement? I barely and could give them myself before stepping into this jungle every morning.

“Another rabbit?” I heard to my left.

I turned to see Sheri and Hannah smile at the small drawing the latter held in her hands. I smiled when I saw it, how funny and tender. Hannah started to laugh. Apparently it was not the first time she received one but she seemed to love it.

“It’s beautiful,” I said. Both girls turned to see me and nodded.

I left the room even without reading the little note of Zach, I was dying of the emotion to know that said but also filled with fear. The main rule of notes on paper bags was that they should only leave positive messages, so it was more or less certain, never really known.

At lunchtime I was sitting with some friends with whom I didn’t share many classes, but we got together from the first year and they were very nice companies. In my hand I still held the paper already wrinkled by my nerves. They all knew about the class I took and also my taste for a sportsman, almost everyone encouraged me to read it at one time, others, wanted to keep an eye on it and warn me if it was worth that I knew its content or if It was just a bunch of crap. In the end, I took courage and decided it was time, however, before opening the paper I heard an angry scream on the other side of the cafeteria.

I turned. Zach Dempsey was standing in front of the person who had heard the scream, when it moved, we all realized that it was Hannah Baker. The place was silent, making that moment more uncomfortable between the two of them, and even for me. I had never seen those two together and to be honest, the reaction I got wasn’t good at all, I mean, Hannah was really beautiful, I could not compare to her. I crumpled the piece of paper again and hid it in the depths of my backpack. Whatever I said there, it would only serve to excite me.

Zach left the cafe in silence, without turning to see anyone. I also did it, but on the opposite side from where he had left.

Two days later

“Oh, fuck!” I exclaimed as I quickly stood up from the bench where I was resting with Skye. I had passed olympically from the cafeteria.

“What?” My friend seemed surprised by my reaction.

“I forgot my hearing aids in the communication class”

It was unforgivable that I would walk in this jungle without the faithful company of music. I just couldn’t believe I forgot them, they were my best friends. I said goodbye to her and I almost ran down the hall, there was a chance that I would never see them again and the money I had, I was saving for something else, if I invested in new hearing aids, I would have to practically start Of zero my savings, which wasn’t much by the way.

I dodged the people I ran into in the hallways. I looked like the devil’s soul, but I felt that with every second they were alone at my desk, more danger ran. I stopped to recover the air a few meters from the living room door. I wasn’t an athletic girl and this was too much of a stretch on my part, I needed to sit down soon.

When I looked to the front, I discovered that Hannah peered almost desperately into the classroom. I missed myself and I hit the lockers hoping to see what happened. She made several gestures, surprise, indignation but, at the end of all, sadness. But what was happening? I took a step with the intention of approaching her and investigating what she was spying … or who. Suddenly, the identity of the “stranger” was revealed. Zach came out of the classroom with a paper in his hands and the blank expression, almost guilty, seemed nervous. Had he finally received a note? So why his reaction like that?

“Why me, Zach? Why me?”

I jumped. I hadn’t realized how much the boy had advanced, but most of all, that Hannah had walked almost to my height. I felt her tear-filled eyes as she faced the boy for what to know. As in the cafeteria, we all fell silent, apparently this couple had a lot to show. I dared to look at Zach, even with the paper in his hands and his serious countenance, stopped in the middle of the hall and watched the one who had shouted at him, I couldn’t decipher the way he looked at her, but I could still feel guilty … Or maybe regret, it was hard to tell, Zach was a guy full of surprises.

Finally the tense atmosphere dissipated when he broke the bubble. He turned and left without even responding to Hannah. She turned, too.

“Hannah” I said without thinking, but she didn’t hear me and disappeared at one of the corners of the hall. I felt bad even though I didn’t know exactly what it was all about.

At the end of class, I decided that I didn’t want to go home soon and I remembered that for the moment the auditorium would be empty, the practices would not start for forty-five minutes, enough time to finish some homework or just read without the annoying murmurs Which were heard in the study area. I just wanted silence, to be with my music and the notebook in my lap. As I predicted, the place was empty, I smiled as I climbed the steps to be in the middle and proceeded with what I had planned, however, my concentration wasn’t in the equations in front of me, but rather in what had happened in the hallway does only a few hours. As I watched, Zach was a good guy, maybe something childish from time to time, but i couldn’t imagine that would bring against Hannah but above all, what will have done. I bit my pencil, he had a note in his hand when he left the classroom … What if it was not for him? What if it wasn’t from his bag? I bit the pencil harder, why did Hannah spy on him? why she? I got an idea of ​​what might have happened and maybe it would be related to what happened in the cafeteria.

My heart began to beat faster. I understood that he had some interest in her, of course. A hint of disappointment hugged me and I realized that I still hoped he would look at me, but how to do it if we have not even crossed words at any time? Or at least not to any class. I sighed.

I turned off the music on my phone, ready to leave. Being in school made me think about everything that happened here; At least at home I could be distracted by Netflix or loud music and hundreds and hundreds of homework. As he heard me around again, I heard the bounce of a ball, I looked up. Right in front of the basket I recognized Zach’s body, especially for the height. My heart raced on instinct and I hated it. So, I had two options, to leave like a ninja, that is to say, without being heard or to be seen, or to leave the shyness and cowardice and finally to speak to him. I bit my lip but cheered.

“Zach!” I exclaimed as I approached him.

He dropped the ball and turned to raise his eyebrows. Yes, I’m talking to you. I tried not to roll my eyes.

“Hey, Y/N” He greeted me as if greeting one of his friends. Well, it was a start.

“You’re good? You look kind of annoying ”

Conversation. I really needed some conversation.

“I’m fine.” He hesitated a little. “Did you read my note?”

His note? Holy sh*t! I had completely forgotten, had to remain in my backpack, crushed by my books and other nonsense. I bit my lip. My face was a poem and I knew I had given the answer to his question when he chuckled.

“I’m sorry” I whispered “It’s … it surprised me, I mean, I didn’t even think i existed for you”

“Why do you say that? You look like a great girl. I like your opinions in class, when the subject interests you”

I blushed. Zach Dempsey had watched me, and more than that, he seemed to know me at least a little of what I could have imagined after this conversation. I smiled. He was undoubtedly speechless.

“Anyway, I’ll see you later, Y/N”

He took the ball and walked to pick up his backpack and jacket. What? Had that been our whole conversation? I stood there as he left, then noticed that a piece of paper had fallen to him.

“Zach, wait!” I shouted but not hoping to be heard.

I went to where he had collected his belongings and took that forgotten paper. I know I should not read it, not even open it, but I was curious, whether it was the one Hannah had been angry about or was simply a task that was aimed at there. Anyway, I opened it and read its contents. My heart was broken as I read every word Hannah expressed there, her feelings, emotions, how she was happy to receive his drawing of rabbit every time we had communication, as a small detail illuminated her interior … and that Zach had snatched her away, so my conclusions weren’t so far-fetched. Zach Dempsey stole the bag notes from Hannah Baker!

With tears in my eyes and anger at something that didn’t belong to me, I ran to the parking lot, I knew the sportsman’s car and I was glad to find him, but above all, to him without leaving. He was throwing his backpack into the back seats when I confronted him.

“Why did you do it, Zach?”

He looked at me confused. I handed him the note and he took it, deserved to keep it as a constant reminder of his acts of immaturity. All because of a rejection? I had lived with at least three and that wasn’t stealing valuable belongings from each of them. I clenched my hands in fists, perhaps mine were simple jealousy, that his attention was on her not me, or perhaps the actions he did. I didn’t know and I didn’t stop to find out.

“You didn’t have to read this, Y/N.” He shook the note in front of my nose and tucked it in his pants pocket.

“I didn’t, but I did. Why are you so cruel? Why do that?”

“It’s just silly, I don’t know why you take it so hard” He opened the driver’s door “Besides, it’s supposed to be Hannah who should be here, you have nothing to do with this”

“Did you at least understand what that letter meant?”

I hated a lot when someone hurt someone else’s feelings, especially in such a stupid act as the sportsman had carried out.

“I’m sorry, alright? Is it what you want to hear? I won’t mess with that stupid bag ever again”

“You don’t have to apologize to me” I said seriously.

“But at least it made you happy, didn’t it? What I wanted to get when you read my note”

“What?”

Zach got into his car and started off at full speed exiting the parking lot.  I was stony again, staring only at the smoke that the car had lifted when it left. Make me happy?

Hyperventilating I knelt on the floor and began to pull my things out of my backpack wanting to look for that note. When I finally found it I unfolded it, wanting to smooth it, but the pile of wrinkles indicated that that was already impossible. I felt a lump in my throat as I read what I had written.

You look pretty in that color. Maybe someday you want to go out with me, because I want to go out with you.

“Oh, fuck!” I whispered, reading those words more than once.

I looked back to where I had seen her car one last time and I felt like the dumbest person in the world. Why had not I read the note when I had the chance?

fic: No Strings

title: no strings.

genre: smut/humour

word count: 3000

description: Phil really misses sex and it turns out that Dan really misses sex, too. So…they just decide to have sex together. No strings. FWB minus the usual dramatic storyline that follows. Hilarity and #bants ensues.

“Just sex?” Phil repeats, “No strings?”

“Yes,” Dan nods, “that’s generally what no strings means,”

“Literally just sex?”

“Fucking hell. Look, Phil, I can spell it out for you or you can put your dick in my ass - it’s totally your choice. Have sex and be satisfied or wank alone to a Muse song again. What’s it gonna be?”

a/n: this is obviously smut but it’s actually funny too i promise, and it’s not like super graphic smut where you’ll cringe or whatever it’s…well, you’ll see. just read it and trust me.

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Stages of becoming a Supernatural Fan
  • Stage #1: "Wow someone said this show was cool, lemme give it a try"
  • Stage #2: "WHAT!? I liked Jess! How can they kill someone off on the first episode!?"
  • Stage #3: "Okay I've watched 4 episodes today that's enough"
  • Stage #4: "OoOOooOoOoOoOohhhh that Angel is so adorable..MINE"
  • Stage #Woah, six eps in one day is enough:
  • Stage #5: "Wait no...THAT ANGEL IS DEANS, DEAN LOVE HIM"
  • Stage #6: *you realise that you have been sucked in so hard that it's now been 48 hours since you slept*
  • Stage #Shit a season a day is emotionally damaging:
  • Stage #7: *you realise that its 5:45 in the damn morning and all you've done is read Destiel and Sabriel Fanfiction*
  • Stage #8: "What was life before Supernatural?"
  • You: I WANT OUT
  • The fandom: *satan voice* Too bad, bitch.
Sickness

Pairing: Lafayette x Reader

Requested?: Indeed it was! (I loved this idea so much, shout out to this anon)

Prompt: “if you haven’t done this, could you do a fic with Lafayette where the reader gets sick and Laf is all panicky but ends up being really cute and takes care of her?”

Words: 964

Warnings: None? (I don’t even think I cursed in this, which is rare)

AU: Modern 

(A/N: Dedicated to @daveeddiggsit, @tempfixeliza and @diggs4life  becauseeeee Daveed, duh. Enjoy!)

Originally posted by diggstrash


It was supposed to just be a small cold. A few days ago, the cough was every once in awhile and water soothed your slightly aching throat. Now your cold has graduated into a full-blown fever with a sore throat and runny nose to go with it. Tissue boxes didn’t last more than a few hours and you had consumed so much tea you were sweating peppermint. Moving from bed wasn’t something you wanted nor had to do, thanks to your best friend, Lafayette. The Frenchman had made it his number one priority to nurse you to health, this includes waking you up at 6-hour intervals to take more fever/pain reducers along with a full bottle of water. Even though you snapped at him as best as you could in the condition you were in, he didn’t let it discourage him from taking care of you.

“Y/N! Mon amie! I have arrived with more stuff to help!” Lafayette stumbled into the room, almost dropping the groceries in his hands. Your eyes widened at how stuffed the bags were, bulging from the objects that occupied them.

“Did you buy the whole store? Jesus, Laf.” You giggled lightly but it ended up becoming a coughing fit and Lafayette was sitting next to you within seconds, patting your back lightly.

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Oops

Vegas | Tease | Oops | D | Game | Mistake

Note: Here’s Vegas 3, enjoy this banter, sin, and fluff. I enjoyed writing it. I love this series so much, actually. Oh yeah, and this is only halfway edited, so don’t kill me if there are careless mistakes.

Word Count: 2293

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x Reader

Warnings: SMUT. quickie, mouth covering, trying not to get caught sex

Originally posted by matthew-daddario

“Daveed!” You yelled frustratingly from his kitchen. It was the morning after the concert and you were sore, frustrated, and most of all energy-deprived, so when you realized that you couldn’t reach the coffee mugs in his kitchen, you were already fed up.

You felt a warm pair of bare arms snake themselves around your waist and a body press itself against you from behind.

“Hmm?” Daveed’s breath was hot against your neck, creating goosebumps on your body.

You sighed, subconsciously leaning back into him. “Why do you put your coffee mugs so damn high on the shelf? You know I can’t reach them.”

“My bad,” he murmured, reaching up to grab a mug for you and set it on the counter. You knew he was smirking even though you couldn’t see him. “But it’s not my fault you’re short.”

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