i should be doing work but nope

2

Maybe I should make a video on this… or maybe not… I’ve reached the point ajere I think people don’t even watch my videos anymore.

Is not like I don’t make it clear that I don’t want spoilers like this out there, or that this exact same spoiler was what caused this whole Problem I’m in right now.

It also doesn’t take more than 1 second of using of brain to be like “wait, I am uploading someone else’s work without permission. If I upload this I’m just getting views off something I didn’t do, and that the creator probably wants to keep as a secret”

But NOPE, these dumb donkeys that act like a human do not think about that. AND THEY THINK IS COOL! Like they’re being a hero or some shiz by uploading a video that got deleted!

I haven’t been able to progress in my animtion at all this week, because I feel so uninspired to do anything because of this. Between the copyrighr strike, between the constant re-uploads of a full minute of animtion of my next wpisode without permisions, between my really crapy health condition at the moment (which gets worse and worse out of stress) it just… feels like it defeated me.

Makes me think, if people are clearly not watching my videos that don’t have the word Glitchtale plastered on the title (because if they had they would’ve realised that I don’t want spoilers somewhere) Then … crap man, I’ll be able to keep up woth this job for like another year or two and then what. I’ll probably live under a bridge or something.

I’m sorry I’m ranting ONCE AGAIN about this whole issue, but I have no one to share this with and I feel like if I keep it to myself I’m gonna break down.

But I find this spoilers in a daily basis right now. And I don’t feel like a video will fix it, people just don’t care, or they’ll do it anywaus regardless because they think is funny.

anonymous asked:

If it hasn't already been done (I know I haven't read them all yet) could you do 71 with matt and niel? I can't ever get enough of their friendship

71: “There’s a thunderstorm outside and you want to do what?” 

The court is soup, stirring and humid, and Matt stares straight up at the ceiling, trying to catch a proper breath. He’s aware of Dan folded almost in half by the benches, holding a stitch in her side like something’s about to pop out. 

Nicky’s starfished a metre away from Matt, gasping dramatically with both arms criss-cross flung over his eyes. The rest of the team is hunched or stretched like roman statues, twisted in grotesque shapes to take the pressure off of their overworked ankles and lungs.

Inevitably, Neil is utterly solid on his feet, chest still heaving with exertion but eyes focused. Andrew passes him an unscrewed water bottle and they make eye contact for five whole seconds too long. Matt snorts, rolling away onto his front and grimacing at the sweaty peeling sound his uniform makes.

“Neil,” he calls, holding his own flushed cheeks. “Any ETA on when we can scrape ourselves off the court?”

“What?” he asks sharply.

“We just want to whither and die in our own homes,” Nicky moans.

“We have a half hour left in our regular practice plus we’re a month away from semifinals,” Neil says, incredulous. “We should be working harder than ever.”

“A month,” Allison repeats. “As in one month. As in what— over forty practices to go?”

Matt sneaks a glance and Neil has his arms crossed, his mouth sour. “The ravens will be—“

“Nope,” Allison interrupts,  “I’m sick of hearing about what Edgar Allan’s demonic fucking automatons would do. They don’t play by the same rules as us. That’s sort of the point.”

“We’ll be better fresh, Neil,” Dan says, still panting a little from her last lap. “You know what pushing too hard looks like.”

“And I know what not pushing hard enough looks like,” Neil snaps, harsh and echoey in their plexiglass cage. He swallows a couple of times, maybe trying to get the taste of his outburst out of his mouth, and then he looks away. “Some of you meet resistance and stop pushing.”

“I mean If I know anything about Q-tips, that’s what you’re supposed to do,” Nicky says.

“Your body resists for a reason.” Aaron grimaces, apparently upset to be agreeing with his cousin.

“Neil’s right,” Kevin says, and everyone groans. His eyes narrow, and he taps his racquet on the floor like he’s calling order to a courtroom. “We’re not improving. We’re stagnant, and we’re taking the extra bulk of the newbies for granted. More bodies doesn’t guarantee a win, we know this. We have to switch things up.”

“Switch things up,” Allison repeats, leaning back on her hands. “What would you propose, Queenie? You want us to switch jersey’s? Play on a basketball court?”

“The jersey thing sounds fun,” Matt says, sly. “Dibs on Dan’s.”

“Switch things up,” Neil echoes, and Matt watches helplessly as a bad idea dawns on him. 

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unrussledjimmys  asked:

More gaming au holy shit that's amazing I love it

a sequel to this


As it turned out, knowing conversational French and moving to a country that spoke only French was… slightly more difficult than Adrien predicted.

There were signs everywhere.

Maybe this was an odd thing to focus on, but trying to tell what was a brand name and what was a pun and what was simply a word he didn’t know yet was… something.

Which is exactly what he was going to use to justify to Nathalie why he’s been staring at the ingredients on a candy bar wrapper in this particular corner of the convenience store for the past ten minutes when she inevitably gets fed up with waiting for him.

Gélifiant. It looks enough like ‘gelatin’ that he’s suspicious, but ultimately, he was going to need to get his translator app out to tell for sure.

Which was really something he could’ve done ten minutes ago, except…

A loud, clear, boisterous laugh echoed over from the cash register, achingly, thrillingly familiar.

Adrien never would have expected it, but somehow, somehow he’d moved close enough to Ladybug’s place that they apparently went to the same convenience store.

Holy shit.

Which was why he really couldn’t go over there (even if there were goosebumps on his nape at the very thought), because Ladybug had expressed exactly no desire to meet up IRL, and he was pretty sure that ‘accidentally’ finding her would be an asshole move on his part.

She was friends with the cashier, he knew, because they’d been chattering for as long as he’s been standing here with absolutely no sign of stopping, and all told, his feet were starting to ache.

Ladybug dipped her voice into that rich, purring, playful tone that apparently was somehow even more effective in meatspace than it was coming out of his headset late at night (and that was saying something), and murmured something to her friend that Adrien wasn’t sure he could’ve translated even if it was in English.

(She was the reason he’d figured out he had a thing for voices, okay? His insides turned to caramel goo whenever she started talking like that.)

“Trouble finding anything, dude?”

Adrien jumped as he realized it was the cashier speaking to him, and unthinking, he raised his eyes.

There was, of course, the cashier, who was leaning over her station in a very distracting sort of way, and the girl next to her…

…Was very, very, very cute.

Athletic and tiny and cherubic with distractingly full lips and what may or may not have been a scattering of freckles over her nose and shoulders.

Cute enough that Adrien almost dismissed the possibility of her being Ladybug, because if Ladybug was that cute on top of being spectacular and amazing and every other superlative that came to mind, then that really wasn’t fair, and, really, the universe should be ashamed of itself.

And then she shot him a sheepish smile and said, “Sorry, I don’t work here. Gotta ask her.”

…Nope, that was definitely Ladybug. Whatever higher power was in charge of her creation should be given an award and then sent to the naughty corner.

Adrien, panicking, held up his candy bar and switched to English. “Sorry, do you have this in vanilla?”

Both girls blinked.

“N-no?” said the cashier, accent heavy with the sudden language switch. “I do not think so.”

Which would make sense, because it was a caramel bar, but—

“Alright, I’ll take this. Thank you.”

He sensed Ladybug frowning at the side of his head as he fumbled with his new credit card, but couldn’t stand to do much more than flash her a quick, awkward (probably blushing) smile as he paid for the goods and fled.

Two things:

  1. Ladybug could never, ever find out about this, and
  2. his life was probably about to get much… more difficult now that he had a face like that to put to his crush’s mind-melting voice.
Imagine a convo like this during the Orion Pax arc...
  • Orion: You... used Dark Energon? How?
  • Megatron: I... inserted it directly into my own spark, then I--
  • Orion: Hold on. Wait.
  • Orion (to Soundwave): Did he really...?
  • Soundwave: *nods*
  • Orion: Oh Primus, Creator of all, what THE FRAG were you thinking?!?
  • Megatron: *scoff* You don't think I could have handled the power?
  • Orion: YOU COULD HAVE DIED! I don't give a scrap heap about whether you could control it or not. Megatron, you placed the very essence of death and destruction into your spark chamber!
  • Orion: And what would have happened then? If you had ceased to function?
  • Orion: You constantly belittle Starscream's command-- publicly. It's clear to everyone who follows you-- and possibly our enemy-- that you don't want Starscream to lead! You waste his time and talents with the promise of leadership opportunities...
  • Megatron: *growls* I promise NOTHING.
  • Orion: ...Even when he performs his duties amicably and efficiently, you give him no reward. What message does that send to your troops?
  • Megatron: His reward is his life! The fact that I allow that traitorous mech to even function on my ship... he should be grateful.
  • Orion: ...So you don't actually trust him, or LIKE HIM enough to be a true heir to the Decepticons.
  • Megatron: No. I do not trust him.
  • Orion: Alright, then what about Soundwave?
  • Soundwave: *stops his work and quietly excuses himself. Nope, not doing this today.*
  • -- DOORS CLOSE --
  • Megatron: What about Soundwave? You know him too, he has been here since the beginning.
  • Orion: He may have been here the longest but he is not meant for as large a role as leader... and he knows it too.
  • Megatron: Soundwave is my most loyal. I trust him completely. The only reason I don't have him as my second is so that we can BOTH keep an optic on Starscream. Get to your POINT, Orion!
  • Orion: MY POINT IS THAT YOU DON'T THINK!
  • Orion: You disappeared for 3 years, leaving Starscream to care for and coordinate your armies.
  • Orion: He does a fine job continuing your expansion whether you like it or not, and even takes out a member of the primary Autobot squadron.
  • Orion: Energon production is not up significantly, but it's not down either-- likely the best anyone could have done in times like these.
  • Orion: But then you return, beating and tossing him this way and that, barely even acknowledging his work!
  • Orion: Your troops see this, and any respect Starscream has garnered during his time commanding has gone out the window.
  • Orion: And you MUST know this, somewhere in your processor. And I know you are also aware that Soundwave could not have filled your pedes in your absence, otherwise you would have specified as such.
  • Orion: But then what do you do? YOU STAB YOUR SPARK WITH A DARK ENERGY EVEN THOUGH YOU CANNOT COMPREHEND IT'S EFFECTS!
  • Orion: If you had died, Starscream could not resume his command after you laid waste to everyone's opinion of him. Soundwave could not have taken over because he simply could not handle it.
  • Orion: There would be a power vacuum. Any and all strong Decepticons within a few stellar cycles journey from here would compete for dominance, dividing your forces. The message would be lost... your armies, scattered.
  • Orion: The Autobots... would WIN.
  • Megatron: ....
  • Megatron: *gets up to loom over Orion/Optimus*
  • Megatron: You seem to have a lot to say for someone who has essentially been in stasis for millions of vorns.
  • Orion: *huff* All I'm saying is that you aren't using your intellect and prospective reasoning! You keep acting on your first instinct instead of thinking things through. What happened to the strategist? The gladiator with a plan?
  • Megatron: ...
  • Orion: ... talk to me. What is it about the Autobots that make you lose your focus?
  • Megatron: ...
  • Megatron: *knocks hand away* We will discuss this later, Orion.
  • Orion: ... do you even know what it's doing to your spark now? I doubt you can fully purge Dark Energon, as energy can neither be created nor destroyed.
  • Orion: *reaches out* Please... as your friend, I am asking you to seek medical attention... if only so we can better understand what must happen now.
  • Megatron: ...
  • Megatron: ... I have things I must attend to.
  • -- DOORS CLOSE --

so because @bechnaesun​ practically coerced me into exchanging future evak headcanons with her, we present to you everything we screamed about for over two hours. 

even and isak get married. and their life goes a little like this:

  • isak and even adopt twins because they would feel like they should adopt siblings so they never, ever felt alone, even when they inevitably start feeling like maybe if they’re not related by blood they’re not the same, but they’d have each other, always.
  • isak would read so many parenting guides!! and google searches!! one times he just goes on a three hour wild ride of reading parenting blogs online, and afterwards, when even comes to bed, isak is sniffly and whispers, “what if we fuck up their lives forever? what if they end up hating us, and never calling–”
  • and even just presses a kiss to the top of isak’s head and says, “they would never, because they’d have you as a parent, and your love is one of the most powerful things in the world.”
  • isak isn’t totally calm after that, but it helps, a bit, but he also thinks that even may be a little biased. a tiny impressionable toddler is a lot different from your husband, because even’s already seen him at his worst, and has promised to stick with him through the good times and the bad. and besides, he never saw even in his angsty teenage phase, and just think about it they’re going to have to put up with all of that! how are we going to deal with puberty! what if they start dating!
  • even: then we just tell them about how we fell in love.
  • isak: baby, you asked me to smoke weed with you
  • even: it’s okay i figure we have at least a couple of years to develop a clean version of that story
  • so the point is, even with all of even’s attempts to placate isak’s worries, he still insists even follows the parenting guides to a tee, just in case they really fuck up at one point
  • even agrees, but mostly because if they do fuck up, then he’d have something to blame it on

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Jyn Erso Appreciation

Since my brain is mush today and I didn’t want to do any work, I decided to distract myself thinking about my favourite rebel.

Originally posted by jyn-and-tonic

One of the biggest reasons I love Jyn, and find her so relatable, is her quietness - not just in her speech, but in her actions and body language. Nothing makes me click the back button on a fic faster than Jyn being written as a cocky loudmouth full of one-liners, who starts fights. 

I know as a straight(ish), white woman I should probably have found dozens of fictional characters I can relate to, right? Nope. Because they’ve always been full of words, and too easy around others (even the awful faux-nerd, unpopular high school girls). Jyn is the first character I’ve recognised some of my own traits in, and thought maybe they’re acceptable traits to have. It’s rare for quietness to be positively portrayed, as it’s usually associated with being weak or boring. 

(Below the cut because there are many words and gifs)

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RFA: MC Wearing Their Clothes

So this is the kind of thing I create if I write at two am…. INteResTINg…. Ranges from cute fluff to suggestive fluff

Yoosung

- Oh you’re just wearing a blue jacket, not big deal-

- Wait, is that his jacket???

- His face turned red, and he just stared at you in shock

- “I-I mean you’re cute but.. um….!”

- After a bit lot of blushing, he gave you a tight hug, trying to hide his burning face in the crook of your neck

- “… How are you so cute…” 

Zen

- Is he dreaming? Nope, you’re actually in front of him, dressed in his coat

- His eyes grew wide, and he was screaming internally, he probably wanted this to happen

- “Don’t trigger the beast, babe, you’re so cute I might just take advantage of you…” 

- He lifts your chin up, giving you a kiss as he checks you out again

- “You should do this more often…“ He mumbles, pulling you in by the coat collars to give you a kiss

Jaehee

- When she first saw you, she didn’t even realize

- But after a closer glance, she noticed… That’s her work shirt….

- She was really confused as to why you would wear that, since it was a bland white top

- But she wasn’t going to discourage you from trying on more of her closet

- Soon enough, she grew used to you wearing her clothes, and began to wear your clothes too

- Both closets began to resemble the other in no time

Jumin

- He stared at you wearing the too large striped shirt

- “Not that it doesn’t suit you, but why are you wearing my shirt? Do you not have enough of your own? I could get you new outfits if you desire them…”

- You try to explain why, saying it’s supposed to be cute, but Jumin just gets more confused, and you just sigh

- Seeing your expression, Jumin reaches out a hand and caresses your cheek, smiling at you gent- 

- Wait no that’s a smirk

- “Cute might not be the first word I would use to describe you right now…” 

- And with those husky words, you knew the shirt thing was a good idea

Seven

- He was skipping around the house, and he grinned when he first saw you 

- But then he noticed that you had a very familiar hoodie on you

-Then a redheaded blur charged at you, full speed, picking you up in a tight hug

- “You look so cuteeeeeee!” He’s making some sort of weird squealing pig death sound

- He then released you, looking you up and down with a huge grin on his face

- You were mentally giving yourself a pat on the back for doing this, when he opened his mouth again

- “So does this mean I can start wearing your clothes too?” 

[V and Saeran + Vanderwood}

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Caged (2)

Synopsis: What happens when Loki meets someone who actually calls him on his bullshit instead of running and hiding?

Word Count : 850

A/N: I’m not even sorry for starting another series! 😂😂😂

Part One

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anonymous asked:

Has Batman ever had encounters with Harley and Ivy as Bruce Wayne? Would he ever try using that part of his identity to help them or any other of his rogues, for things like trying to start a new life away from villainy and such?

Someone was in Bruce Wayne’s office, and there was no graceful way to avoid them without making it obvious that he knew they were in there. There was a smell in the air like mulch and roses.

He had no frame of reference for what would constitute a normal amount of things to notice, and so chose to err on the side of oblivious moron.

If there’d been a smell like marzipan dipped in bleach, he might have chosen differently.

“Heya, Mister Wayne,” Harley Quinn greeted, sitting on his desk. She waved as much with her feet as her hands. He closed the door behind him.

Bruce considered his response. Hopefully his momentary indecision with regard to his facial expression could pass for surprise, or confusion, or fear. “Hello, Dr. Quinzel.”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m not with Jay no more.”

“She’s with me,” Poison Ivy said.

“Hello, Dr. Isley.”

“I really prefer Ivy.”

“Dr. Ivy,” he corrected.

“Doncha love the way he says doctor?” Harley asked Ivy.

“Charming,” Ivy said. She did not sound charmed.

“I told her we oughta come talk to ya,” Harley explained, “on account of you’re a real nice guy an’ all.”

“Thank you?”

“I was just going to kill you,” Ivy added.

“Thank you. For not doing that.”

“Isn’t he just like a puppy?” Harley asked, pressing her hands to her cheeks.

“You can’t keep him.”

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anonymous asked:

Hey! I'm a punk and I would like an opinion of a fellow punk. Why do you think capitalism is bad? I'm genuinely curious, and you don't have to answer if you don't want to!! 💫

capitalism only serves the interests of the rich. why should rich people continue to make more and more money while people are homeless, starving and dying in the streets?? why do kids in schools have such fucking things as “lunch debts”?? THEYRE KIDS. LET THEM EAT.
why do people apparently not deserve to be kept alive regardless of their social standing?? it shouldn’t matter if someone has fucking money, food, water and housing are literally basic human rights and we’re denying people these basic needs for no good reason.
why do business owners get to have enough money to feed twenty families for the next fifty years while some people can’t even afford to go to their doctor??
capitalism doesn’t serve the people. capitalism only works when there are people suffering on the bottom tier.
and that’s fucking wrong no matter what way you look at it.
there should be no homeless people. there are plenty of vacant houses just sitting around and instead of letting homeless people live there?????? no apparently that’s a bad idea because they are poor.
giving people free food?? nope apparently that’s also a bad idea even though we’re producing so much more food than we can eat and instead of giving it to hungry people?? nah let’s destroy it
do you see my point?? i can’t on any level consider anyone a good person if they support this system.
everyone deserves food, water, and a home, regardless of what fucking profit they can generate for the top 1%.

Parenting Mistakes

I think all the talk about participation trophies is bs, mostly because I saw in real-time how Conservatives in the US constructed the myth in the 80s and how it has always been used to attack both the idea that children should feel good about themselves about anything other than pushing around and policing other kids, and the idea parents should be good to their kids; while promoting the idea that kids were properly property that parents ought to be able to treat however they damn well please with zero outside intervention. But also because I frankly never saw the damn things to begin with. I saw plenty of trophies, and all the ones I saw were given out for perfectly sensible reasons, visibly appreciated by the kids receiving them.

BUT, having said that, I DO think there is a certain well-intentioned tendency in the parenting of securely middle-class parents (can’t speak to other classes because this is the only parenting I ever saw) of the Boomer and X gens that had some unintended negative repercussions, and that is the tendency to play down mistakes.

Let me lay a scene:

A child is doing something and they make a mistake. They say to their parent “I’ve made a mistake”. Now these parents, interpreting Dr. Spock’s advice through their own experiences of(almost invariably) having been raised by real assholes whose idea of “parenting” was mean-spirited insults and physical abuse and even worse, respond to this by doing the exact opposite of what they’re parents would have done, they Negate it. “No, NoNo,” the parent says, “it’s fine, it’s Fine! You’re doing perfect :)”

Now, what the parent THINKS they’re doing in this situation is building the child’s confidence in their abilities. What they are REALLY doing, though, is teaching the child to doubt their own ability to assess situations, and particularly their own performance. The child had an idea in their head of how things should have turned out, likely based on instructions. Things didn’t turn out that way and maybe they also realize they didn’t follow the instructions correctly. So they say, based on the evidence, “I made a mistake”. Yet the parent -from a place of kindness!- tells them they didn’t. So they learn that their judgement is flawed. Is it any wonder that kids constantly exposed to this grow up to be perfectionists, to NEED to know they’ve done everything possible in their minds to make something right because they can’t trust how they think or feel about it, who always ask for the opinions of others, particularly superiors, on how their work turned out before moving on?

Instead, I feel like they should have responded like this:

Kid: “I made a mistake”
Parent: “You think so buddy?”
K: “Yes”
P: “Why do you think you made a mistake?”
K:”Because of this.”
P: “Hmm, could be. What do you think you did wrong?”
K: “I think I did this wrong. I was supposed to do THIS, and I did this instead.”
P: “Hmm, well, that makes sense. But Even though you made a mistake, that doesn’t mean everything’s messed up.”
K: “It doesn’t?”
P: “Nope! We can fix it *optional head ruffle* :] *proceeds to troubleshoot the problem or start the project over again with supervision, to avoid the mistake together*”
-End Scene-

This is just as positive, affirms the child’s judgement, teaches them to pay attention to and think critically about their feelings and thoughts and actions, and it shows them that mistakes aren’t this terrible and shameful thing to be avoided, but rather normal, everyday obstacles that can be overcome with dedication, a calm mind, and thinking things through.

There is an alternate to this that is worse. The child, while doing the project, is confused about something and asks for parental advice; the parent says “do it this way.” This way doesn’t work out, and the child says “I made a mistake” or “I did this wrong and it didn’t work”(because, of course, it’s a very rare child who will say to a parent “your advice was wrong” from the get go). The parent then says, “No no; it’s fine, it’s Fine; it’s perfect: Everything is Perfect, you’re just worrying about nothing, don’t beat yourself up about it.”

This is worse because, not only does it do all that the first example does, but it also teaches the child that the parent expects to be treated as if they’re omnipotent and incapable of making mistakes. This has a whole host of other, terrible, repercussions all its own: the child now feels responsible for their parent’s emotional state, they will be anxious over questioning the parent in other, possibly more urgent, situations, they will learn that one shouldn’t admit mistakes and errors leading them to react negatively to them -and moreso to being called on them- in future, and it will make it difficult for them to question authority figures generally, since humans naturally conceive of authority figures through familial/parental metaphor.

And of course, both bad -but well meaning!- responses put the child in a position of having to argue for their mistakes and flaws, against your “defense” of them as something they can never be: a perfect person. AND of having to go against your position if they want to repair the mistake to their liking. These are really shitty positions to put anybody in, let alone a kid.

I mean, I get the impulse, I really do, and obviously there are much worse things parents can do to their children, but it’s really no surprise that a gen raised this way would display the perfectionism, self-doubt, preference for outside input, difficulty finishing projects, and anxiety over performance in formal settings that so often get associated with Millennials.

Please

// In which Antonio Alejandro Bartholomew IV wants the domestic life to grow //

part 4 of the sugar daddy series (part 1)

*Contains Mature Content*

part 5 is about to be on and poppinnnnn. see ya again soon - drea 🌖

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Criminal Minds Thoughts: 12x22

SO MANY SPOILERS BELOW. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

  • Okay but Aubrey and Matthew are beautiful together. The way he looked at her in that “fantasy room.”
  • What the what the what. Like they just threw every idea ever into a single episode?
  • Reid would be such a good dad you guys. Give him a child.
  • The Maeve thing made me feel all kinds of uncomfortable. I’m glad it wasn’t real but just the thought of Lindsey pulling something like that off is not something I want to think about.
  • On a side note, still kinda disappointed they haven’t let him love anyone since Season 8.
  • Usually Reid when he’s mad is kinda attractive tbh but this is a little scary. My heart hurts for him.
  • JJ wins the best friend award
  • The fact that Reid hasn’t gone to see Morgan at all? Excuse me while I cry.
  • False alarm oh good oh good. Wow. That would’ve been crazy. But I do think she’s low-key in love with him, in her own crazy way.
  • Watch me. Cries. Forever.
  • Sad that Morgan only had like five minutes of screen time and there was NO MORGAN-REID REUNION. I needed that hug to heal my soul. Like his reunion with everyone else - especially Garcia - was perfect but could they seriously not give us that? Did they not know how to write it? Would it have been too complicated? Were they not able to make Matthew and Shear’s schedules work?
  • NO NO NO NO NO NO NOPE-ITY NO. I know that based on prior knowledge they should be okay but NOPE NOPE DO NOT WANT. We haven’t had to deal with this since… season 5??? I hate this. 
Guan Shan x He Tian Stripper AU

Leather jacket? Check. Mesh shirt? Check. Sequined booty shorts and marching thigh-high boots? Check and check. Mo Guan Shan had packed his bag, ready for his shift at the bar.

He hadn’t planned on becoming a stripper. Not at first. But money was tight and the job paid well, so why the hell not? Besides, it’s not like he was going to bump into anyone from school, not in this seedy place.

He arrived at the club and waltzed into the employees-only room to change. After struggling a bit to zip up his boots and throwing on some smoky eyeliner, he was ready to go.

The announcer called him out by his stage name, “The Fox,” and with a rhythmic “click-clack” Guan Shan walked out into the spotlight.

He knew what these people wanted, the middle-aged men sneaking away from their wives in the dead of night, the drunk college girls, the cute gay boys looking for a place free of judgment. He knew what they wanted, and he was going to give it to them.

He snaked his body up and down the pole, parting his legs, licking his lips. He wasn’t Mo Guan Shan. No, under these purple lights he was “The Fox,” the seducer of men, a fantasy that got paid in hundreds and could have anyone in the room.

He arched his back, ran his hands up his thighs, moved the pole seductively between his legs. In one swift motion he threw off his leather jacket, drawing applause from the crowd. He fed off their energy and gave them more, gave them himself until he was sweating and heaving, bills tucked into his shorts, the purple lights finally fading.

And in that moment he saw a sight that made his blood run cold.

He Tian was sitting not a foot away from him, arms crossed, a smirk on his face. “I didn’t know you could dance like that,” he said coolly.

Mo Guan Shan was at a loss for words. He scarcely remembered to grab his jacket before clamoring off stage, his whole body shaking, not even the hoots and hollers of “encore” deterring him. He ran into the back room without looking back, and slumped down in a chair.

He was caught, and he didn’t know what to do about it. What would his classmates say when they found out? Would he be kicked out of school?

He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he didn’t notice his manager walking into the lounge.

“Guan Shan, someone’s waiting for you in the champagne lounge. Looks like a big spender too. Don’t blow this.” And with that, he left.

Guan Shan wanted to run, but he wanted the money more. Besides, he had already been found-out. He might as well make the best of it while he could.

He took a deep breath, threw on his jacket, and walked over to the private room. He didn’t see He Tian anywhere in the main area. He probably left, he thought to himself, relived, before pulling the curtain back.

He felt his heart skip a beat. Inside sat He Tian, a wad of cash in his hand, the same smug expression on his face.

“Why are you here?” demanded Mo Guan Shan, turning red.

He Tian’s mouth curled into a smile. “Isn’t it obvious? I want you to dance for me.”

“You want me to what? Are you out of your god-damned mind?”

He Tian lifted his hands in mock defense. “Why, is that any way to treat a paying customer?” He asked, his tone easy.

Mo Guan Shan eyed the wad of cash. It was tempting, as much as he hated to admit it. He’d almost made up his mind to actually dance when He Tian said:

“If you don’t want to dance, it’s fine. Just sit down and talk to me.”

Guan Shan considered his offer. “I can’t afford to do that,” he replied.

“I’ll pay you.”

A moment of silence passed. “Okay,” said Guan Shan, sitting down. “What do you want to talk about?”

He Tian popped open a bottle of champagne and poured him a glass. Crystal. Expensive stuff.

“You.”

“Me? I’m not that interesting,” he said, blushing.

“Really? Living a double life as a stripper isn’t considered interesting?”

Guan Shan took a sip of champagne. “Nope.”

“Well I must be boring as cardboard then.”

“Yep. Have any siblings?” He felt his cheeks get hot as he downed another flute of the stuff.

“A brother, actually.”

“And what does said brother do?”

“He works as a body guard. For Jian Yi’s father if you would believe it. You should be glad you ran into me instead of him, he really would have done a number on you.”

“You act like you didn’t.”

“Nah, I like you too much to actually hurt you.”

“Sure doesn’t seem like it sometimes.”

“I can stop, if it bothers you that much.”

Ugh. His voice was too earnest; it made it hard to think. Guan Shan downed another flute of champagne. “This is stupid,” he said, standing up. “Let’s just get this over with.”

He tried to take a step forward before falling and landing on He Tian’s lap. He regained his composure and readjusted his legs so that they were straddling the dark haired-boy. When he finally met He Tian’s eyes, he was blushing.

Heh. So he was capable of being embarrassed. Guan Shan took satisfaction in that before he stated grinding his hips, his hands cradling He Tian’s face. They had never been this close, and Guan Shan noticed his long, black lashes, the smell of his cologne, the soft cupids bow of his lips. This wasn’t the first lap dance he gave, and probably not the last, so he was surprised when he felt himself blushing too.

He’d never noticed it before, but He Tian was actually…cute? Maybe that wasn’t the right word for it, but Guan Shan felt something churning in his chest and he didn’t want it to stop.

They got lost in the moment, in the air and the ambience and the alcohol, and He Tian leaned in, his lips about to brush Guan Shan’s. But at the last possible moment he pulled back.

Guan Shan looked at him, his eyebrows drawn in a silent question. He Tian pointed to a sign. “No Physical Contact.”

Guan Shan frowned. “The sign doesn’t really apply to this room.”

He Tian cocked an eyebrow. “So you want me to kiss you?”

Silence. “Yes,” Guan Shan said in a small voice, his cheeks red.

He Tian studied him for a moment before softly brushing his lips with his.

It was much different from the kiss they’d shared earlier. It was gently, sweet, and like the champagne, Guan Shan couldn’t get enough of it.

Finally He Tian broke away.

“What’s wrong?” Mo Guan Shan asked, his eyebrows drawn again.

“Uh, can you….can you please get off my lap?” Asked He Tian, rubbing the back of his neck, sheepishly.

“You’re hard,” said Guan Shan mater-of-factly, not registering his own words.

“Yep,” he said.

His words finally hit him. Guan Shan jumped up, his face a new shade of crimson.

Silence.

“So…”

“Um…”

“See you in school, I guess,” he said, handing him a wad of cash. “And uh, don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

Guan Shan was trying his best to avoid looking at his crotch. “The bathroom is that way, if you need to, uh, take care of… of that.”

“Thanks,” He Tian said, awkwardly shuffling out.

He stood there for a minute, not sure what to do.

Then he sat back down and closed his eyes. Despite how it all ended, he thought it’d been pretty fun. It felt almost like a…a date?

Ugh. He felt himself blushing again and covered his face. He reached for another glass of bubbly to calm his nerves, but all it did was intensify the butterflies in his stomach. As much as he hated to admit it, he wouldn’t mind if He Tian stopped by again.

Bucky’s Girl |Series| 3/?

Originally posted by bartowskis

Summary: You’re dating Bucky Barnes, it’s good. It’s beautiful. Steve, his best friend has had a crush on you, wayy before Bucky returned. (Series)
Warnings: Angst/ inspired by that one story in Love Actually but kinda not/
Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Wade Wilson, Negasonic, Colossus, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Peter Parker & Sharon Carter.

Inspired by the song Jessie Girl - Rick Springfield

Part One * Part Two

Originally posted by naih-reedus


Steve knew listening to Wade was a bad idea, worse than listening to Stark. Yet, his idea was stupidly great. It was bullet proof in a sense, there was no way it would fall back on him if he did it correctly. He just had to wait till you and Bucky started wedding planning to act, which he didn’t have to wait long at all because you were so excited to start. In fact, within a week you were already looking for venues because they were always the hardest to grab.

“We have a year, even longer to plan anything,” Bucky practically whined one morning jog to Steve, making him chuckle lightly through the puffs of air. “And she’s already looking at venues”

“She’s excited, Buck.” Steve glances at him, “Aren’t you?”

Bucky all but grinned and chuckled. “Of course I am, I just think it’s a little early, ‘tis all. She’s acting like we have to get married next month; we got the rest of our lives together.” Steve nodded in agreement, “I have to go look at three places this weekend.”

“I thought you and Nat had that Russian poker night this weekend?”

Russian poker night was usually, drinking and intense games of cards. Steve, honestly, hated them. He couldn’t play that’s why but it was the betting, plus Nat’s competitive trait that made the whole experience awful. He loved Nat, he just didn’t like playing games against her, always preferred to pick her for teams; considering she was hell bent on winning whatever it was.

Bucky exhaled, “I gotta take a rain check because we’re leaving town to look, plus having to end up staying a night and looking the next day because of the appointments.”

Steve nodded and looked ahead, Sam jogging in front. Steve’s eyebrows furrowed in thought as he contemplated his friends’ dilemma. He really did want to help Bucky; he knows how much the time with Nat and Clint means to him. He loved them both, especially Clint. Sharpshooters, it was destined for friendship.

He also saw this as a great opportunity to start the plan. Wade would want him to take this chance, is he really listening to the devil on his right shoulder, right now? The voice of reason could be faintly heard in the background, it sounded a lot like Sam. Maybe because he is yelling at them both.

“On your left”, “On your right.” Both super soldiers yell as they pass their other best friend, who continues to yell obscenities at them.

Steve lets the silence sit between them as he thinks over how to word his thoughts. “If you want, since I’m the best man, I could go instead.” Bucky looks over at him, bringing his jogging to a stop and Steve does the same. “I mean if you want me to. I’m happy to step in and help, plus Y/N is my friend and it’s not like she’s picking one then and there. It’s looking; I’ll come back and tell you my opinions. I don’t know it’s a suggestion.” Steve shrugged, scratching the back of his neck out of nerves.

Bucky thinks over his best friends’ suggestion, shrugging also. “I don’t see why not, I trust your judgement better than anybody’s, heck it’s why I’m dating Y/N.”

And that led to the hour car trip with you singing in the passenger seat travelling to the first appointment.

Which the first appointment was extravagant, Tony had booked you to view The Plaza Hotel, a grand building that held luxurious events and overpaid Wedding ceremonies. Yet, he wanted you to look at it and see if you actually liked what they offered, although Steve knew you preferred something smaller. Fewer chandeliers and ballrooms, well that’s his opinion anyway.

“Bride and groom, I assume?” A woman greeted with a smile as you entered.

You shake your head lightly, “No, Bride and Best man, the groom had other obligations today.” You explain light-heartedly, Steve smiling with his hands in his jean pockets.

The woman named, Rachel, nodded and led you towards the room where the ceremony is held.  Giving a few little tidbits of information along the way; how Bridal suite is complimentary, how valet is offered and at $65 per car. Steve was stunned with how much this wedding would cost at this venue alone just from the price of fucking parking.

Both rooms shown were stunning. Grand halls, filled with chairs and tables, looking straight out of a movie scene. Steve let his eyes drift over to you, you were glancing up in awe as Rachel told you about the chandeliers, explaining every detail if you were in this room. You looked mesmerised, yet he didn’t see that twinkle. That urgency to have this venue, you didn’t feel this place was right and he knew that.

“What do you think, Stevie?” you called out to him, Steve looked up to see you and Rachel looking at him. “I trust your opinion, considering both Groom and Maid of Honour are off playing cards.” You gave a little shrug.

Steve chuckles and gives a soft exhale, stepping forward. “I mean, it’s beautiful,” he begins, “if you like this sort of thing.” Rachel frowns, “I don’t know, it’s flashy and big. Perfect for Stark, I personally wouldn’t pick a place this to get married but it’s not my wedding.”

“That’s right, it isn’t your wedding,” Rachel smirked and looked at you, “it’s yours and we have wonderful caterers. A wedding cake made by Ron Ben-Israel or Sylvia Weinstock,” she smiled smugly.

You let Steve’s words settle in and Rachel’s. “Well, what do you like?” You asked Steve suddenly and he took a long pause to think.

“I don’t know, I always pictured maybe a quaint little church, I’m traditional. I wouldn’t want the venue to take away from her beauty” he looked at you, you nodded once. “I’d want it just simple, yet modern. I’m not the same guy I was back in the forties, I have to adjust, and then I think the evening after the ceremony. Courtyard, I love the outdoors and I’ve had some of my best memories outside. Not too many people, on my side anyway. I’m a simple man, I guess.” He shrugged it all off, “plus, Laura Barton makes the best cakes.”

As Rachel begins to talk again you allow Steve’s vision of a wedding settle into your mind, honestly, it sounded so perfect. It sounded right. You didn’t want or need this flashy venue, it was beautiful but it wasn’t you. It wasn’t a place you ever pictured getting married nor was it calling out for you. So, you ended the appointment early and decided to find somewhere to have lunch.

“I didn’t put you off did I?” Steve asked sheepishly, you looked up at him as you crossed the busy New York street. “You seemed to really like that place, I don’t want to force my views onto you Y/N, I’d never want you to feel uncomfortable or that this day would be less important because of what I said.”

You smiled, always the worrier. “No, it’s the opposite. The Plaza isn’t somewhere I pictured myself ever getting married; I mean it’s gorgeous and grand. It’s just lacking that…” You trailed as you tried to find the words.

“Special something?” You nodded in agreement, “I’m sure you’ll find the perfect venue and you’ll know that that’s where you wanna get married.”

You shrugged with a small smile, “Hopefully, I think this is gonna be fun. You helping me, I should have picked you instead for my Maid of Honour.” You chuckled as Steve laughed; you linked your arm through his and led him towards your favourite sandwich place.

“Nat would have killed me,” you nodded with a little giggle.

*Last Venue Appointment*

“This is it.” You whisper as you glanced around the beautiful chapel, “I have that feeling; I want to get married here. This is where I wanna marry Bucky,” you grin at Steve who nodded as he looked around; he had to admit this was perfect.

Beautiful stainless windows, the sun casting perfectly, reflecting the beautiful pictures on the stone floor. Oak benches all lined and facing the altar; it was just classical and perfect. You had fallen madly in love with the place, only it was high demand and every Bride wanted traditional, that was unexpected considering Steve was said to be old-fashioned.

“They have next month or two years from now,” you sighed unhappily to Steve who wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “This is the place, Steve, I know it and it’s my rotten luck it’s gotta be either too early or so late.”

Steve held you and his mind drifted, well his mind shifted into Wade Wilson’s mindset. Bucky had mentioned how fast this was moving, how it was like you wanted to get married next month. He obviously hadn’t said anything to you about the pace, the nice metaphorical angel was screaming on his left shoulder to bite his tongue.

“I mean, if this is the place you should take it,” you pulled away and looked at Steve. “Either date seem fine; Nat can plan a wedding in under a month, especially with Pepper’s help! Or… wait two years, you’ll still love Bucky the same as you do now, considering you’re marrying him.”

Either option worked well for Steve. High pressured stressful environment between you and Bucky, rushing to plan a wedding in less than four weeks or two years to make you realise, you should be marrying him. It seemed to work well on either case.

“I should call Bucky,” you trailed and looked at your phone. “I mean, you’re right, right? Natasha has planned missions in under an hour; this isn’t any different to that. Plus I don’t really want to wait, has Bucky said anything about dates or?”

Shit. Think of something, Rogers.

“Uh-nope, not a thing about dates,” that wasn’t a lie. Bucky had never brought of dates, he had mentioned how fast paced this seemed but you didn’t ask the right question for that answer.

And this whole thing has led to Steve having to awkwardly leave the apartment as you and Bucky argued over your rushed behaviour when you returned home that Sunday evening. He met Wade at the bar, where his friend Weasel tends. Sat on the bar stool, hoodie on and baseball cap, he glances at Wade after spilling the entire weekend story to him and Weasel.

“Well, fuck,” Wade says through his suit and looks at Steve who just nods. “I, honest to god, didn’t think you had it in you.” He pats Steve broad shoulder and points to Weasel, “He deserves a drink on the house.”

Steve sighed as Weasel hands him another beer, “I didn’t either but the little devil on my shoulder wouldn’t shut up!”

“I am the voice of reason,” Wade holds his glass high, probably grinning under his mask.

“You mean stupidity.” Weasel counters, “Why did you listen to him? He refused to talk to Vanessa because of his ugly mug, understandable but still, dating advice from a fuck-face.”

Steve chuckled and shrugged, “Desperate.”

They nodded at one another, “stick with me kid and you’ll be banging Bucky’s girl in no time,” Wade patted Steve’s shoulder as Weasel rolled his eyes and Steve exhaled loudly.

(Sorry that it takes me forever to update this series, I was just trying to format how the other parts would pan out if I decided a certain thing. a lot of rewriting, I am undecided on the ending of this, yet. - Rosalee)


Everything Tagging list: @girl-next-door-writes @22ifyoukeepmenextoyou @t3-daria-todo @sebby-staan @skylark50 @thegoddamnfeels @gillibean9  @sergeantjamesbarnes107th @full-of-sins-not-tragedies @fxcknbarnes  @broncos5soslover @say-my-name-assbut @fangirlwithasweettooth  @buckyismybbz  @charlotteblanden  @wholockiand@momscapris  @mashroom-burrito @firewolfkelly  @winterboobaer

@mychocolatemints @avengingthesupernatural @usannika @itzelreader  @tillytheinvisibleshadow @tomhollahd @imagining-marvel-soldier @oh-my-gravity @what-the-ducky-bucky @heyitssilverwolf  @katiegrace122 @newtmas-newtella @sillylittlemary  @buckyhawk @codexofwitches @the-the-sound-of-the-bees-blog @songsforsentences @leahneslen21 @whateveriwantworld  @itsblehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh @cassiebarnes  @that-one-jewish-elf  @tardispandagirl  

@theawkwardone-0002 @djpaige13paige @thewinchestersbabe @majestic-squad  @fangirlextraordinaire713 @stevesmylove82 @mrporkstache  @t0kistar @marvelousmimi  @shadyweeny @thequeenofgood @calursocute @casey-anne-j @ohmoveoveralohomora @grass-is-not-green@hiphoppery  @imnotinsanehunny @myonlyloveisblade @shamvictoria11 @castiels-fave  @zootycoon1o1 @fangirl1029 @itsilvermorny @angel34jolly-blog   @hellomissmabel @castellandiangelo @dividedwecantfall  @heyitsthatlouisdork @buckys-shield @heaven-bound-angel @thyotakukimkim @bucky-with-the-metal-arm @callalilyiskewl @karipaleta  @hollycornish @mrhowardstark @mcuimxgine (I deleted the tags that wouldn’t work)

Bucky’s Girl Tag list: @adarkcloud @awinterloveuniverse @buckys-baby  @ijustwanttobepartofyourworld @johnnnmurphy @mags-moore @specs15  @litterally-trash @stressed-depressed-bandobsessed @yknott81 @brooke-supernatural16 @xxchexchickxx @hellkat2 @snuggleducky @inked-petals @agentmstark @fearthedietcoke @marvelgoateecollection @ijustwanttobepartofyourworld @johnnnmurphy @mags-moore @specs15 @stress-depressed-bandobsessed @brooke-supernatural16 @yknott81

You're John Feldmann Niece*Calum Hood Imagine*

Originally posted by outerspaceimagines

Description: You are John Feldmann Niece, and you help out Amy with getting the party all set up. And along the way you finally meet Calum, who your uncle never shuts up about.

Requested: Nope

Rated: PG

Warnings: None

Word Count:2,079

A/N: Hey everyone! Sorry for not posting in a while. But I should be getting back on here more hopefully, work has been kicking my ass.. Scratch that Life has been kicking my ass. But I hope enjoy!


“You know that probably is not the smartest idea,” John told you as you were trying or at least figuring out how to put the speakers on the side of the house for his Birthday party. “Well no one else would do it, my brother’s said nope, Amy said no way in hell. Which means this bitch right here has to do it! And aren’t you supposed to be inside?” I questioned leaning back from side of the house, observing the speakers that were placed there. Hopefully they stayed and didn’t fall on anyone, small chuckle escaping past my lips at the thought of it falling.

“God why am I like this?” I mumbled to myself shaking my head at my morbid thoughts, climbing down the ladder making sure to watch my step, holding onto the ladder with a death grip. Jumping down from the last step, taking a few steps back to admire my work that I did, three speakers were on the house, two on the side and one in the middle. John stood next to me also admiring it, he rested a hand on my shoulder before saying, “See Amy could not have done that and your brothers probably would have fell.” Nodding my head to show that what he said was true, very true, “Well I’m leaving to go and help them pick out some suits. Have fun!” Rolling my eyes at him as I watched him retreat from helping, though it was HIS birthday party. Doesn’t mean that he can’t help with carrying around some of the heavy stuff.

“Hey Y/N, I need you to go and get some people,” Amy spoke as she walked towards me with cases of beers in her hands, “Amy.. Why me? Dawn could go and get them or even Michael could,” I whined while stomping towards her in a state of annoyance and exhaustion, “Well John is taking them somewhere to get some suits, because you know how he is, and Ashton does not have his licenses yet and Calum won’t be here till later on. Ashton really wants to help out before anyone get’s here.  I can’t go and get him which means that you have to go and get him.”

With a heavy sigh of understanding before nodding my head in agreement, “Well I understand that, just give me his address and I’ll go and get him.” With a nod she went back to carrying the beer to the table outside, “Hey, make sure you get that thing out of the closet!”  I hollered back towards her, walking towards my car with my keys in hand and phone in my back pocket.


Opening the door to the jeep, and jumping right in before starting the car I looked at the address that Amy had sent too me.


“Literally three house down from Richard’s house.” Starting the car, and slowly backing out of the driveway, making sure not to hit any of the cars that were parked by the curbs.  Turning up the radio, jamming out to some Foo Fighters and Rob Zombie, after a 40 minutes of driving. I arrived at the house, pressing in the middle of the steering wheel, the horn making a faint honk sound. Ashton came jogging out of his house, phone and wallet in hand a small wave was sent in my direction, opening the door as he thanked me for picking him up.

“Hey no problem, at least I got away from helping for a while,” I chuckled, throwing the gear shift reverse and started to slowly back out. “So you are John niece? You kind of look like him,” Ashton noticed the same slim bridge but wide nose though her nose was just a smaller version of it. “Yeah,  well you know we are related.” I mouthed off at him, tilting his head to side a bit, “Yeah, you are right. But you guys look a lot of like.”

“Well it might be because his brother is my dad,  and they look almost like twins. Which would mean we have some of the same features,” I said again, turning on my blinker to signal for the left lane. “You both act a lot alike as well,” He pointed out, about how she was definitely a smartass. Laughing at what he said, I did agree with that part, “That is true, John practically raised my brothers and I, since our parents weren’t the greatest so he took us in. So yes, I do act a lot like him.”

The rest of the ride, was silent and that was what I wanted. I never was one for a lot of conversation while driving or any other time. Finally we got back to the house an hour before everyone is suppose to show up, Ashton was out of the car before I turned off the car. Climbing out of the car, stretching my legs just a little bit, doing a couple of lunges just to get the blood flowing. “What in any gods name are you doing?” A small scream left my lips, turning around a little too quick making my vision blur, John and my brothers along with another guy were staring at me.

“I was doing lunges,” I told them, eyeing the rather tall guy with the dark brown hair and dark brown eyes, he was taller than John but not my brothers. His hat though were crushing his curls, “Why?” Michael wondered out loud, my sister stood there with her bright red hair (that was natural) no a bun, no shoes on since she kicked them off to the side of the driveway and her blue jeans with a black shirt that said ‘Fuck You’ with a smiley face.  

“Because after picking up Ashton, which was a long car ride. My legs were sore and tired, which called for some lunges.”

“In the middle of the drive-way? Of all places,” John spoke for the first time, gesturing with his hand around the neighborhood.

“And you have to show that face.. In public?” Y/N shot back, gesturing with her hands wide and spinning around for emphasis.

Silence was heard besides a giggle from the Tall brunette, with a smirk Y/N turned around and walked towards the backyard. Where she could hear the commotion of everyone trying to get everything together.

Opening the gate, she saw that there was a stage set up with even more speakers, little twinkly lights were dangling across the yard, and even wrapped around the pillars of the back porch. Food was out and so was the grill, beverages were all on the table.

“Y/N!” Amy gushed out, jogging over from where she was giving instructions to Ashton for the grill. “Is he here?” She whispered softly, grabbing underneath your armpit softly dragging you over towards the gate again. “He is here, Michael and Dawn along with who I am guessing is Calum are all in the driveway,” You informed her, with a sigh she looked at you with annoyance and stress, “I need you to distract them, take them on a walk or something please. Everyone still isn’t here yet,” She begged almost.. Key word almost, rolling those green eyes of yours, “I guess, but I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

Walking away from her and out of the backyard, just to walk fast first into a broad and toned chest. Averting my eyes up at someone with brown eyes, “Calum. Right?”

“Yeah, Calum. And you must be from what I am guessing from not even five minutes ago, you would be Y/N, John eldest niece,” He spoke low and quick, his accent coming out just a little or more like a lot. He smelled like Old Spice, and it was definitely distracting, “You smell really good,” You blurted out, thinking that at first maybe you did not say it, but from his amused face and the strange looks from my brothers and uncle. I did say it out loud, “Hey! Let’s go on a walk,” Clapping your hands together while rubbing them. “Well, I was wanting to go and freshen up just a bit. Never mind that is not an option.” John and the others were cut short when you grabbed them all by the hand, and dragging them down the driveway.

“Amy put you up too this didn’t she?”

“Yes. She still needs a little more time to get everything together, and waiting for other people too show up as well.”

“Which means taking us away from the house, all of us?” Michael spoke up from the back, “Hey do not give me attitude or lip, I just did what she said. She said take them away, but I gave her twenty minutes,” I informed him and the rest of what was going on, looking down at my phone screen to check the time.

“Okay let’s head on back. We have been out for like forty minutes,” Started walking back towards the house, sending a quick text message towards Amy about our return.

Good, everything is set up and everyone is here. Hurry back quickly!’

The walk back was silent except for the occasional talk between John and my brothers. Those three were more upfront while Calum and I were kind of dragging behind. “Do you know how to play any instruments?” He broke the silence between us, and keep in mind it was one of those awkward/ comfortable silence.

“Ugh.. I kind of play the guitar and the piano. But I am not the greatest at it,” You told him, starting to see the house in sight now. Along with the all the cars parked up and down the street, “Well you probably already know that I play the bass, but am learning how to play the piano as well,” He said stuffing his hands in his pockets and picking up his pace a little faster now, “Right aren’t you the bassist in like.. Four seconds to Jupiter or something along those lines,” You asked him being completely serious since you really didn’t know the name of the band.

“Five Seconds of Summer is the name.”

“Right! Yeah, sorry I never really listen to my uncle when he talks about any of the bands he helps out with. Unless it is about Brendon or Twenty One Pilots.”

“Have you ever met them?”

“My boys? Of course I have! But I met the Madden Brothers before any of them.”

“Seriously? That is sick honestly, I just met them a couple years back, really good guys.”

After that silence was restored between you both, but mostly since we had arrived at the gate. John went in first since it took awhile to convince him to do so, and right when he rounded the corner of the house everyone jumped out from there hidden spots and screamed “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”, and the lights that Amy or whoever put up came on and light music started to play.

“Did you jump?” Michael and Dawn asked me, a small shrug for a response at their question.

“Happy Birthday John,” Calum clapped his hand on my uncle shoulder squeezing it a little,

“Thanks man.”

I watched as everyone told him happy birthday, while Calum and I walked away towards the back where no one was at. “This maybe a little straight forward, but I was wondering if you wanted to hang out sometime,” He broke the silence yet again, it was quiet for a minute or so before nodding my head slowly as a yes.
“A coffee hang out? I know this really cute place in San Diego it ha-”

“There you are, we have to go and get that thing!” Dawn gushed reaching for your hand, dragging you towards the house and leaving behind Calum who didn’t have any way of getting in contact with you since now. It was the game plan and you were now in charge of making sure that everything was A okay.

“Here is her number, you hurt her and I will end that wonderful career for you Hood.” John slide the paper in his hand before walking away. A large smile spreading across his face once again, leaving Calum alone but happy that he had some way of contacting you. Though now he was kind of intimidated by how quick John can go from ‘scary and ruin your life’ too ‘Nothing happened back there and I never stop smiling.’

Prompt:  “Scotty/Reader. Fluff. Getting stuck together in a Jefferies tube!”- @vintagevalentinexx

Word Count:  1,529

Warning:  Being stuck in a tight space.

Author’s Note:  This was actually so hard to write! They just kept arguing with each other and making each other angry. IDK, I had to sit ‘em down and have a chat about their motivations. Anyway, I think we came to a good conclusion. Enjoy!


“Ye’ve gottae be joking!” Scotty cried when the access hatch denied his passcode for the third time in a row.

“I don’t know why you’re so shocked, this happens to me at least once a week,” you quipped, securing your feet in the rungs of the ladder and leaning back against the opposite wall.

“You’re gonna fall an’ kill yourself, you stand li’ tha’,” Scotty grouched as he pulled his comm from his pocket. “Scott to Ratchkov.”

“Aye, Sir?” came the lieutenant’s tinny reply.

“What’s happening with port C-18?”

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On The Grapevine - 2010

↠ minhyuk x reader; 4.3k; he’s always looking for you to come online and chat but is too scared to actually meet you
↠ text message based series, kind of an au, minhyuk has a lil crush on you

2010 | 2011 | 2012 | 2013 | 2014/15

14:30 – Hmm Minhyukie, do you want to be my best friend?
14:31; Minhyukie Can I be?
14:32 – What kind of qualities would you have as a best friend…
14:34; Minhyukie I will text you every morning and also I will be your personal reminder of things you need to do
14:34; Minhyukie Oh, and I might be famous one day~

Originally posted by theseoks

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flyercat  asked:

Hi there! I was wondering, do you think it's possible for a Fi using type to be really people-pleasing? I've been debating whether I'm an intj or infj lately, and in most ways I relate more to descriptions of TeFi, but I also tend to alter my behavior depending on who I'm with and get really concerned about what certain people think of me, which are traits I often see associated with Fe. Sorry if this is a bit long, thank you for reading! ❤

(Gif: Marie Antoinette. SFP.)

Fi’s can hate conflict just like a Fe, but their motive can often be, “I don’t know how to deal with your emotions so let’s just avoid them, shall we?” So the answer is yes, but the motives are different. WHY are you people-pleasing? HOW are you people-pleasing? What does this people-pleasing GET YOU?

I people-please at work, because I have to, it’s my job. It’s how I keep the machine oiled and working smoothly. It my Te “professionalism.”

With my friends, if I don’t agree, I’ll often keep my mouth shut, because my Fi has decided to pick its battles. Some things just aren’t worth the effort. I’m never “fake” (my Fi won’t stand for it) but why cause trouble unless it’s over something that I truly care about, that is worth the effort of conflict?

Do I care what people think of me? Yes and no. Yes, in that I want my true self well represented (Fi) and it annoys me when people get that wrong; if their perception of me is incorrect, I’m a bit insulted by that. I also want to do my personal best, so sometimes other people’s opinions of my work can make me “care” because it’s a reflection of “reality” and how my work will be more widely embraced or rejected by the masses. But do I care about what EVERYONE thinks in the deepest part of my being? Nope. That’s because my self-criticizing Fi is screaming too loud, it drowns most other voices out.

As for altering behavior to fit in with a group: unless they’re about to violate some deeply held principle, or they disgust you, why wouldn’t you moderate or tone what you talk about / your actions / etc to your friends? That’s just being sociable and respecting the other people. (I know damn well what I should and should not discuss with certain people to avoid making them uncomfortable; and I respect them enough most of the time to shift my conversation to what they like. I’m just being nice, because I value being nice.)

To determine Fe vs. Te, decide which one you ‘internalize’ deeply, and which one you can use outwardly with relative ease. :)

- ENFP Mod