i want like eight of these little shits

anonymous asked:

It's nearly Bucky's 100th birthday! Tell me Sam's going to be all over that (...hard mythical) dick? ;)

“Nearly your birthday,” Sam says one morning, mostly murmuring it into the tangle of Bucky’s hair. Bucky groans. Pushes his face into the pillow as if he’s still half-asleep and trying to ignore Sam. Sam ignores the hint. “What, you don’t wanna remember your birthday? Gonna hit a hundred, kid, that’s worth something.”

“Oh my god,” Bucky groans. “Do you gotta?”

“If you were in England, you’d get a card from the Queen,” Sam continues, cheerfully relentless. “You want a cake? I’ll bake you a cake.”

“I met the Queen, once,” Bucky says, rolling over like he’s giving up on getting any more sleep this morning. Sam’d feel bad, if it weren’t already at least nine; as it is he just drapes one arm over Bucky’s hip, lets himself stroke his fingers down the muscle of Bucky’s thigh.

“You did not,” he says, and Bucky shrugs.

“I fuckin’ did, okay, just ask Steve. I mean, ‘s not like I knew she was the Queen at the time, right. She was nice, though. Real straightforward, you wouldn’t have picked it.”

“So maybe she will send you a birthday card,” Sam teases. Feels Bucky nip at the column of his throat, just the quickest graze of teeth. “I’m serious, baby, what do you want? Cake? A party hat? We could ask SHIELD if they can brew you some kind of super-proof liquor, set you on your ass.”

“Nah,” Bucky murmurs. “I’m good.”

“Aw, come on,” Sam wheedles. “You know my mom’ll want to cook you dinner at least, right?”

“I do love your mama’s cooking,” Bucky admits. Kisses Sam’s throat again, lips soft against Sam’s skin. “It’s just. I dunno. I’m not actually a hundred years old, you know that, right? The last birthday I remember I was all of 27. It just, it feels like-”

“Like what?” Sam asks, when Bucky goes silent and still. Bucky hums under his breath like he’s thinking.

“Feels like I got cheated out of time. Or maybe I cheated, I dunno. Both.”

“Oh,” Sam says. Thinks about it for a few minutes, brushing kisses absently along Bucky’s hairline. “Well, you don’t have to be a hundred, right? How old you want to be, huh? Twenty eight? Thirty? You look like you’re all of thirty, you little shit.”

“Thirty seems reasonable,” Bucky agrees. “Fuck it, why not. A hundred, shit, I don’t even have any gray hairs yet.”

“Well,” Sam says, “I got news for you on that front, Barnes,” and feels Bucky freeze up as if he’s shocked. “Yeah, you haven’t noticed? A streak of them, right here. You’re gonna look older than me in no time, that’s just how it goes.”

“Goddamn,” Bucky laughs. “Well, you better get on with fucking me before I wither up, sweetheart.”

“Oh,” Sam growls, “I better, huh?” and pushes Bucky flat on his back, watches him go sweet and breathless and beautiful. It’s like I got cheated out of time, he thinks again of Bucky saying, and thinks, yeah, maybe he did, maybe he got years and years stolen from him, but this future, it’s theirs for the having.

redoxrosezzz  asked:

no but imagine Kim and Trini love going on lil dates where they go somewhere together and so one day they decide to go to a petting zoo. And so there's a little pen with a bunch of baby chicks and Kim is all " Hey babe guess who's a chick magnet" while holding a handful of chicks. And Trini just rolls her eyes pretending to me tough and stuff but Kim leans in and says is "I love the yellow chicks the most." and Trini just melts into a gay puddle askhlgflaglagh

Okay but like they’re so smitten n shit that Trini is wearing this Pink sweatshirt that is two times her size and Kimberly is wearing Trini’s yellow jacket and the sleeves don’t even reach her wrists. (which Trini thinks Kimberly looks ridiculous in and teases Kimberly about it until Kimberly is just like, “Remember, you’re the small one.” )

Trini doesn’t even want to see the chicks but Kimberly puts one in her hand and before she knows it there’s a bunch of little chicks everywhere and Kimberly just holds up like eight of them proudly and says “Hey babe, guess what? I’m a chick magnet!” 

Trini just rolls her eyes and mumbles something about how she’s dating an idiot and nearly drops the chick Kimberly had handed her when Kimberly says “I love the yellow chick the most” and Kimberly just laughs as Trini gets all flustered and wugwtgunfijgan Trini just kisses her because even though Kimberly is a cheesy little shit, she’s just so adorable and is her girlfriend. 

They totally go to the aquarium the next day and Trini is just listing off all the different kinds of sharks she sees and her and Kimberly get into an argument, “Trini, there’s no way that there’s a shark species called the Lemon Shark! Or the dumb gulper shark!” 

“Yes, there is! Kimberly, look, there’s the lemon shark! He’s waving at us!”

One of the workers just laughing at the exchange and telling Kimberly, “Yeah, that’s a lemon shark. Oh, here comes the dumb gulper shark!” 

Trini just standing there and smiling like a little shit, just happy that she proved Kimberly wrong and Kimberly just grumbling as Trini tells her, “I told you! I’m the shark whisperer!” 

And Kimberly calling her a nerd, “Not everyone knows every single shark species by heart, nerd.” and mumbling, “I bet you don’t even leave your house during shark week!”

Trini bumping Kimberly’s shoulder, “Hey! It’s the greatest week of the year!”

(Kimberly watches shark week with Trini that year) 

anonymous asked:

So Chibiusa is 900 years old but her parents never notice her weird thing about her father?

Much as I’m hating Black Lady sucking face with her future father (AND OH I DO), I do see where it’s more complicated than that. Or at least In how I’m choosing to interpret it, let me say. I have absolutely no confidence in Takeuchi’s writing nuance, and so don’t know how much of this I would say is incidental and how much is intentional.

BUT.

In the context of 900-year old Chibi-Usa (MY ETERNAL FAVE), Black Lady has really only improved on the situation in one way: physically. Her body is adult, but her emotional maturity is still about eight years old. I don’t know that many of Black Lady’s actions don’t stem from a child “playing” at being adult now.

You hear things like “I’m going to marry daddy when I grow up” from little kids, and it doesn’t mean they literally want to bone their dad, it’s a child’s lack of understanding of different forms of love and the nature of a marriage, and a bunch of shit they literally can’t understand yet because they’re a child.

So as much as I’m against 900-year old Chibs (AND I AM), and as much as I want to throw up when I see them kiss (AND I DO), I don’t see it as Chibs having “a weird thing about her father” (and this isn’t even necessarily her father in her eyes because it’s Mamoru, though I agree her renaming him Endymion is intensely wtf) so much as just Chibi-Usa being very young and very alone and very confused and trying to act like she thinks she’s “supposed” to act now that she’s suddenly become “an adult”.

HAVING SAID ALL OF THIS

Even if this WAS Takeuchi’s intent – something I am not at all convinced of – I think she did a piss poor job with it. Black Lady has been fanatically devoted to Wiseman throughout this, which dulls the personal edge from any of her actions, making them seem more “because I’m evil” than “because I am Chibi-Usa and this is how I’m hurting”.

Chibs hasn’t shown this jealousy over or need to “claim” Mamoru at all. She’s really been nothing but sweet to Usagi and doesn’t seem to mind Mamoru spending time with her at all. Her motivations here would actually make more sense if she and Usagi had been bickering over him, though gods know I loathe that shit and would never invite it.

The impetus for Chibs running away and being caught by Wiseman in the first place was driven by Pluto, and yet none of this is about Pluto. I feel this is the greatest misstep in the whole thing. Black Lady hasn’t even brought Pluto up. She immediately targeted Mamoru and then seemed satisfied, but that’s an avenue she never had to fight to win. Mamoru willingly gave Chibs everything she needed whenever she needed it. It feels to me like, once again, the conflict has to be turned towards keeping Usagi and Mamoru at its center, by default making it NOT about Chibi-Usa, which feels the saddest fucking thing of all, frankly.

I REALIZE I’M GOING WAY OFF-TOPIC HERE I APOLOGIZE. Just, to my eyes, story would be so much more dynamic and interesting and with 100% less deep-throat father kissing if Black Lady had turned her attention to the one person Chibs felt the most betrayed by, the one person in all the world she thought was hers and only hers.

Originally posted by australian-god

Imagine Eric’s reaction after you accidentally break his nose while sparring for the initiates.

Warning: Violence and language (the usual really), It’s a little long oops


“Alright people lets go, we’re getting started.” You called out attracting the attention of the initiates that milled around the training room. This early in the morning they were all like zombies, looking around blankly still half asleep.

They all listened to your instructions and gathered in front of you Four, Tris, and Eric who were also in charge of training the initiates. Well, Four and Tris were, Eric made it every clear he was only here because Max was making him. Although you knew that helping mold the imitates into Dauntless was secretly one of his favorite parts of his job, not that he would ever admit it.

All of yesterday you had the initiates do nothing but run and work on punching bags and honestly it was all a little pitiful.

“Today the four of us are going to show you proper fighting techniques. Trust me when I say that you all need it, some of you can’t hit a punching bag properly, god knows what you will do when faced with an actually opponent.” They all squirmed under your criticism and Eric laughed behind you.

You continued to ramble on for a few more minutes and a few dumb questions from the kids later, Four and Tris were standing in the middle of the ring. You pointed out to the initiates watching the stances and punches they were using as they fought, explaining how Tris used her lean figure to her advantage and Four used his height. They separated on their own terms after a few more swings and then Four stepped down and was replaced by Eric.

It was almost laughable as you took in the size difference between the two and when they started fighting you could tell he was restraining himself to not accidently knocking her on her ass. You had not a single doubt that if they were actually fighting, instead of throwing staged hits, Eric would absolutely demolish her. They finished fighting and then Four went against Eric.

You had to warn the boys to take it down a few notches after Eric threw a particularly hard punch and busted Four’s lip. You separated them before it got too bad, rolling your eyes at how childish they were and then you took your turn against Four and then Tris.

Finally, it was your turn to face off against Eric. The two of you trained together all the time so you didn’t bat an eye at going against him, especially since it wasn’t an actual match.

His imposing size dwarfed your smaller figure and you frowned when you noticed his wicked smile.

“How about we give them a real show.” He whispered, smirking.

“Stick to the script Eric, I don’t want to embarrass you in front of the initiates.” You said back fiercely antagonizing him slightly.

“Oh, that’s how it’s going to be?” He said with a quirked eyebrow.

You raised your fist in response and he got the hint following suit. The two of you went through the motions of a fake match. Throw a hit, block, receive a hit, block, so on and so fourth, Four called out the different hits and blocks for the initiates with ease. You could see Eric getting a little antsy and so you aimed a little lower than he expected, nailing him in the stomach.

He paused for a second as he realized what you were trying to instigate and you took that moment to throw a punch to his uncovered face. He blocked you in time and before you knew it the two of you were sparring the way you usually do.

Four stopped calling the technics as he realized that the two of you where doing your own thing and he didn’t know what to expect.

You could hear murmuring from the initiates as they watched you and Eric dance across the mat, the two of you had trained for so long that you both knew what to expect from one another but that didn’t make it any less intense a fight. It also meant that the two of you worked tirelessly to one-up one another.

It was a moment of distraction as you tried to listen to what the initiates when saying when he sent a particularly hard punch that knocked you back a few steps. He took advantage of your lack of balance to send a few more hits to your stomach and chest, noticeably avoiding your face. You blocked a few in defense and wildly threw a punch at his face.

“Fuck.” He cursed as your fist hit his nose and you jumped back a few steps as he backed away clutching his face.

When he pulled his hand away you noticed the thin trail of blood and you instantly felt a little bad. You could tell Eric was pissed as he examined the blood on his fingertips. The kids behind you instantly hushed as they wait to see his reaction.

You underestimated how fast Eric could move and before you knew it he rushed up to you quickly and the two of you were instantly back into the fight. You just barely had the time to raise your fist and fight back before he was in your face.

A few more hits and kicks were exchanged and the two of you were obviously evenly matched for the most part. It was only as you as an opening as he was aiming once again for your torso that you hit at his face again.

You did a quick two-hit punch both fist aiming for his cheeks, but you must have misjudges your aim. You first fist connected with his cheek slowing him down and the second punch landed right on his nose again.

You heard the gruesome crack at that and he backed away from you quickly mimicking his motions before with his hand to his face. He cursed as he had his head tilted back and you cringed as you watched the blood pour down his face.

“Oh shit…” You said as you watched him, Four was laughing on the sidelines and everyone else looked unsure of how to react.

You and Eric had injured each other before when fighting. The two of you broke bones and left bruises all the time, hell he had broken your arm one time and in retaliation as soon as it healed you cracked three of his ribs. Your friendship was excessively violent but that was Eric’s nature and it tended to rub off on you.

“You broke my nose.” He mumbled still holding it.

“You were asking for it…” You bristled feeling slightly guilty.

You moved toward him and he watched you guardedly. You could hear Four, who was still laughing, calling everyone’s attention to give further instruction while the two of you were sorting out whatever was going on.

“Let me see.” You said batting his hands away, it was defiantly broken and you could already see bruises blooming around his eyes.

“Want me to set it back in place…” You said softly turning his head to the side. He was still pissed and you could tell he wanted to just say no but he finally broke and nodded slowly.

You put your hands in position and counted down from three. You shifted it back in place before you hit one and he let out a string of curses, yanking your hands away.

He took a second to compose himself, still not letting go of your wrist.

“I’m sorry…” You said accidently letting out a small giggle.

“It’s not funny.” He grumbled.

“Yeah, it is a little… what can I do to make it up to you? Wanna return the favor?” You said still laughing a little.

“No.” He said obviously thinking.

“Let me take you out to dinner.” He said finally not really asking, letting go of your wrist finally.

“I’m sorry what?” You asked checking to make sure that you heard him right.

“Let. Me. Take. You. Out.” He said slowly as if you were a small child.

“Asshole.” You mumbled and he raised a brow waiting for a response. “ I break your nose and you want to take me on a date?”

“Why not?” He said with a smirk.

“Bout time you asked, shame it took me beating the shit out of you for you to do it.” You laughed patting his cheek earning a wince in response. He grumbled something about his face hurting as you walked away.

“Walk it off Eric!” You called out, causing a few people to let out muffled laughs, as you made your way back to the group.

“And pick me up at eight.” You called quietly over your shoulder.


A/N: Like I said it’s a little long for an Imagine, I’m sorry I got excited then carried away. Anyways hope you enjoyed let me know what you thought!

Not Your Dean (Part 14)

Originally posted by darlingdeano

Summary: One day Dean shows up and moves back into the bunker. The only problem is he’s a demon and he’s hiding something…

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Pairing: Demon!Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,900ish

Warnings: language

A/N: Some nice Sammy & reader in this…


Keep reading

i’ve been alone in the apartment for a few days and there was this fly i was trying to kill. this morning i was chasing it around, and, well i have a very small apartment, so when i say i was “chasing” it i mean i was making sharp turns trying to get it with cockroach spray. i don’t have any fly spray, but i’m convinced cockroach spray is the same formula, just with a different spray nozzle. fly spray is a light mist, like a cloud the fly gets caught in. cockroach spray is more like a silly string kind of laser so you can hit them from a distance. it’s hard trying to use one for the other. it’s almost like they knew what they were doing down at the lab the day they came up with the stuff.

this fly kept landing on my stove and hovering around my radiator. like it thinks i’m going to spray flammable oil, because that’s pretty much what the poison is, it’s like oil that fucks up their wings and shit, all over my stove top and then light my whole place on fire the next time i try and be fancy and use conventional heating instructions on my can of chef boyardee ravioli. like it takes a lot of nerve to do that to me. to stand right there and try and get me to sabotage my whole life.

anyways i have a fly strip too, which i’ve talked about before because i’m glamorous, and right after i got dressed i came out i saw it on there, trapped. and i felt bad for it because it was still moving around like it had no clue what was going on. i actually felt bad for this fly. so i sprayed it point blank on the strip. will spraying my fly strip with roach poison ruin its effectiveness? i don’t know, but right after i did it i saw another fly. a second fly. that always gets me, when there are two of them, because they fuck and make babies. even if they don’t like each other i bet. just to spite me. two flies who hate each other start a family just to annoy me. i don’t know where it goes on, but knowing two flies are going at it somewhere in my apartment drives me insane. 

i think i’m being ghosted by this school i applied to. i didn’t want to go back to school, but i don’t know what i’m doing. i’m really directionless right now. i’m trying to extend my stay in young adulthood for as long as possible. just in the middle of the ocean jumping from driftwood to driftwood. i applied to this program, a one year degree, and i had to go through all the paces. i had to write a peppy application essay where i had to come across as this guy who’s got a biiig appetite for life and oh opportunities give me a major hard on and i always don’t feel defeated. i couldn’t check a box and then go, “i am not a bad guy, let me pay you to put a semblance of purpose back in my day-to-day. a little hope. put a few more watts in the light at the end of the tunnel there, for me.”

everything was going great, i met all the deadlines, my transcripts were good, here’s what i think screwed or is screwing me. i did a special program in high school that gave me college credits. i got an email from a woman at the school i applied to that said my college credit exemptions from high school weren’t valid unless i had records sent from my high school. i went online to the program’s website to order the documents directly. they asked for a login/password combo i was given in 2009 and of course had tattooed to my forearm for easy reference.

i had to call my high school. i had to pick up my phone, my phone that the technology for didn’t even exist when i was in high school, and i had to call them. it was like calling another dimension. it was like trying to find my way back to oz from kansas without the help of a tornado. the line was all static-y and shit like i was breaking the space-time continuum by even attempting it. i don’t want to even imagine what my high school is like. all the metal picnic tables are all probably new and some weird color. there’s probably some new ugly mural or something, i don’t know.

i had to talk to a man and explain to him that almost eight years ago, before he even started working at the school, there was a woman who had his job whose name has been lost to the annals of time. this woman ran a program that a little boy was in, and that little boy was now a little older boy who needed evidence that it all really even happened. the program was european and the boy had to get codes for an online portal so he could have some server farm in fucking sweden or something send his dusty ass decade old latin scores across the atlantic. somehow this took three weeks and probably lost the boy his spot and the 75 dollars it cost to apply.

you know the funny thing is that when i called the guy and took the 15 minutes to explain who i was he asked me if i needed the documents for grad school. i panicked because i didn’t want to disappoint this stranger over the phone who i’d never meet, so i said yeah dude of course. he then invited me to come speak to the students at my old high school to show them all that they could accomplish by being in the program. i was like, “buddy, i know you think i’m a new york hot shot because i just told you i’m a new york hot shot, but i’m calling you in secret from the back stockroom of my depressing retail job and if i ever came to speak to your students they would lose all hope and quit school altogether and probably bully me because high schoolers in 2016 are fucking intense and scary to me.

Demon King Age & Bible Babble FYE

Lucifer may be the strongest Demon King but he’s not the oldest.

I’ve been thinking about this for a while and I came up with the theory that a Demon King’s power is not corresponding with their age. If you want to know why, you better buckle up and get your crucifixes ready because I’m going to talk Christianity here!

Light and Time

Maybe it’s just me but I found the fact that the King of Light is supposed to be stronger than the King of Time a little weird. The element of time and space seems more omnipotent to me than the element of light, which is just kind of there.

And this is when it hit me: It’s the order in which the elements were created in the Bible!

See, creating heavens and earth in complete darkness was manageable but for the fine tuning God kinda needed to see what the fuck he was doing. Boom! Let there be light! And he separated it from darkness and thus day and night were created. Wait, day and night? Yup, this is the point at which time was created. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be able to talk about “days“ of creation, now would we?

There! So Lucifer is older and stronger than Samael because the latter’s domain literally wouldn’t exist without the former’s.

The Elements of Creation

WARNING: From here on things will start to get crazy.

Now, let’s go back a step. In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Not earth as in soil. More like, in the beginning there were the heavens and water. It wasn’t ocean because he didn’t call it that yet but yes, God created water before he created light and time. How crazy is that?

The order we have now is: water, light, time. And all of this in only one day! He never was this productive ever again tho.

The second day was one of those days. God didn’t get all the shit done he intended to, in fact he only managed to create the sky/air. But that’s okay.

Now, on the third day, due to existence of the air, the water started moving and gathered in certain places while leaving others dry. And God was like “yeah, let’s go with that” and he called the dry parts earth. Thus, earth was created, I guess.

Wow, try telling that to your kid! “We planned to have your brothers. You just kind of happened.“

Anyway, He created weed for everyone! And big-ass trees. “Yup, you are adopted in a way but because I added trees you are now my legitimate son. No buts!” So that’s what happened and then the day was already over.

On the fourth day, God decided not to create anything all new but instead iterate over what he already had. I swear, he’s one lazy fuck. He created stars, sun and moon and, depending on those, days and years.

Again, we have the element of time depending on the element of light. It’s like he wanted to say it twice so everyone gets it.

The rest of Genesis I and II is God creating animals of the sea and sky literally whales and birds IFS!!! (5th day), animals of the earth cattle, worms and sheep and stuff and humans (6th day) and wrapping things up - also blessing the seventh day because that’s when he didn’t have to do shit. #relatable

So, at the end of the week we have six of the eight Demon Kings’ domains created. In order: water, light, time, air, earth and insects (or worms anyway…).

The Elements of Man

Now, this is a little tricky. The creation is followed by the Fall of Man, in which God banishes humans from the Garden of Eden.

For one thing, he bestows mortality upon them. Before that, humans were immortal and also vegans. I will just assume that nothing died before this point, as all living things were meant to populate the world. So I’m taking it as the point of birth for the element of decay.

Further, God posted angels at the gates of the Garden of Eden with flaming swords to prevent the humans from entering it ever again. HA! This is the first explicit mentioning of fire in the Bible and it has to be flaming swords! AnE is so legit!

Now, the thing is, God’s last words to Adam are along the lines of “You shall work your ass off and eat bread until you die and rot.“ So, what came first, mortality or the oven? I’d like to take a moment to imagine Adam getting kicked out of paradise and being cursed with death and all he has to say is “What the hell is “bread”?“

In short, I am not sure which one was first. My guess is that decay came before fire.

TL:DR

According to my theory concerning the order of creation, Gehenna’s royal family in order of age (but not in order of power) is as follows:

Egyn, Lucifer, Samael, Azazel, Amaimon, Beelzebub, Astaroth and Iblis

whitewinterstar  asked:

Let me just say that your writing is fucking awesome first of all. And, if requests are open might I ask for the RFA trying to celebrate MC's bday? (Bonus points if they don't find out when it is till like three days before)

thank you so much!!

~requests r CLOSEDT rn thanks~

Yoosung

  • Yoosung is one of those kids who never knows what day it is
  • when he asks his classmate the date and they say september 16
  • wait….its the 16th…..?
  • oh god, MC’s birthday is in two days
  • he hAS DONE NOTHING TO PREPARE!!
  • panicked, Yoosung logs into the messenger
  • thank god Jaehee and Jumin were there
  • “JAEHEE! JUMIN!! MC’S BIRTHDAY IS IN TWO DAYS!” -Yoo
  • “yes, Yoosung. we’re aware” -Jumin
  • “well??? what are we going to do?? T_T” -Yoo
  • “maybe a small get-together?” -Jaehee
  • “oh!! i know! lets do a surprise party!!!” -Yoo
  • MC has entered the chatroom
  • Yoosung realizes his mistake
  • Yoosung has left the chatroom
  • yea, trying to plan a surprise party in a public messenger was not his best idea yet
  • but there is one way Yoosung can make a big deal out of MC’s birthday that requires minimal planning
  • Yoosung and MC are both awake when it’s midnight on the day of their bday cause lets face it do those two even know what sleep is?
  • he tackles MC with a hug, who was sitting on the couch
  • “happy birthday!!!”
  • they laugh
  • “thanks, Yoosung!”
  • “want your present now?”
  • Yoosung was like, shaking with excitement
  • MC wanted to wait till the morning but they thought if they said no Yoosung would explode
  • “sure?”
  • Yoosung reaches into the pocket of his hoodie and pulls out two pieces of paper
  • “are these…tickets?”
  • “yup! tickets to my favorite amusement park!”
  • so Yoosung and MC go to the park for their birthday
  • they even wear matching outfits, Yoosung buys them way too much cotton candy, and MC wears a big button that says “todays my birthday!”

Zen

  • Zen cant figure out why MC was been so weird around him lately???
  • whenever he talks about his upcoming show they get really quiet and almost sassy?
  • and he’s like? did i do something wrong?
  • yes, Zen, you did
  • finally, Zen figures out whats going on when he goes out to get the mail
  • theres a letter there from MC’s mother
  • he doesnt open the letter, but its been sealed closed with a little birthday cake sticker
  • wait wait woah woah hold on
  • is this….a birthday card?
  • WAIT YEA IT IS
  • CAUSE MC’S BIRTHDAY IS NEXT WEEK
  • shit
  • his show was on the same day…thats why MC got all weird whenever he talked about it
  • Zen, you dumby
  • instead of apologizing to MC right then, Zen devises a plan
  • for the next week he lets MC think he still doesnt know about their birthday
  • not until the very end of his show
  • MC of course came to support him even though they were highkey pissed
  • after all the bows, Zen takes the mic at the end of the show
  • “i’m so greatful to all of you for coming out to support this fantastic cast and crew standing beside me now”
  • Zen pushes his hair back and 100 girls scream
  • “but theres one person i want to give a very special thank you too”
  • Zen looks at MC, who was in the first row
  • they were always in the first row
  • “thank you so much for being my rock, baby. and happy birthday to the most wonderful partner i could ever dream of calling mine”
  • the audience joins in a resounding “AAAWWWWWWWWWWHHHH”
  • and Zen pulls MC up on stage and smooches them in front of hundreds of people

Jaehee

  • this was all stupid Mr. Hans fault!!!!
  • if he hadnt given Jaehee so much friggin work she never would have forgotten
  • Jaehee doesnt forget anything, ever
  • its literally her job to remember everything and be organized
  • but this whole month has been so busy and when Jaehee opened her planner to a new page for the week, she saw that she had circled wednesday and written “MC’S BIRTHDAY!” in big letters
  • todays monday
  • sh…shit…
  • she only has two days???
  • you cant plan a proper party in two days??????
  • how is she supposed to find a venue and a caterer and a DJ and decorations and fly MC’s entire family in and possible a guest speaker but definitely a celebrity appearance?????
  • UGH!!!
  • she logged into the messenger and instantly started giving everyone jobs
  • “woah woah Jaehee, slow your roll” -707
  • “we cant plan something that big in just two days T_T_T” -Yoo
  • “yea….lets just do something on a smaller scale….” -Zen
  • are you all kidding?
  • MC deserves the most extravagant, the most wonderful,
  • they need a fun party
  • realizing she the RFA wont help her, Jaehee takes matters into her own hands
  • on the day of MC’s birthday they got a surprise visit from Zen
  • “hey, cutie! what do you say we go shopping? my treat!”
  • MC was so happy! but why hasnt Jaehee said anything yet today?
  • did she forget? :(
  • when MC and Zen get back to their apartment, MC turns on the lights and is greeted by all of their closest friends
  • “surprise!!!
  • everyone was there, the room was decorated beautifully and there was even a big spread of food and a birthday cake
  • MC starts thanking everyone, their whole body flooding with a warm happiness
  • “dont thank us, thank Jaehee. she did literally all of this….we just kind of showed up” Yoosung says, already gravitating to the food
  • he was so hungry but every time he tried to touch it Jaehee would smack his hand away and tell him to wait for MC and Zen
  • MC tackles Jaehee in a big bear-hug
  • “i knew you’d never forget! i love you, Jaehee!”
  • Jaehee blushyy!
  • she giggles a bit and tells MC she loves them too
  • :3

Jumin

  • Jumin and MC were having dinner together when Jumin realized something
  • he doesnt know when MC’s birthday is! :o
  • “darling, i just thought of something. when is your birthday?”
  • MC finishes chewing their food before speaking
  • “april 4th!” they say with a bright smile
  • Jumin smiles back
  • “how wonderful”
  • …..wait
  • april 4th?
  • thats
  • THATS IN THREE DAYS
  • Jumin almost CHOKES on his food
  • “sweetheart, thats in three days”
  • “i know”
  • ???????
  • “why havent you said anything to me about it?”
  • “oh…i dont know. i never really did anything for my birthday”
  • Jumin tries to hide his shock
  • i mean he never really does anything for his birthday either
  • but this was MC
  • their existence needs to be celebrated
  • okay this is fine. everything is fine. Jumin has three days to plan the perfect birthday party. everything is fine i said its fine alright
  • he asks assistant Kang for help because he has no idea how to birthday party
  • finally, he’s got it: the perfect birthday plan
  • phase one: breakfast in bed
  • MC wakes up to the smell of bacon. when Jumin sees they’re awake he fetches a tray with bacon, strawberry pancakes, coffee, and fruit
  • he even used spray whipped cream to make a little cat-head shape
  • Jumin is lowkey proud of himself for preparing that
  • phase two: festival
  • the spring festival was going on so he takes MC out and the two explore all the booths and eat yummy foods and he buys them a few small gifts
  • phase three: dinner
  • dinner at MC’s favorite restaurant
  • this phase is also when Jumin gives MC their actually present, which was a big sweater they had been eyeing but never had the courage to buy
  • they love it
  • phase four: the park
  • the last activity is just walking in the park together, holding hands, looking at the stars, and talking about anything and everything
  • it was the most fun MC’s ever had on their birthday

707

  • Seven has been prepping for MC’s birthday since he met them eight months ago
  • and its finally here
  • all this careful planning
  • its finally time for the execution of the plan
  • he gets up at like 4 AM, careful not to wake MC
  • fast forward four hours
  • MC is surprised when they wake up and Seven isnt next to them
  • they roll out of bed and stumble into the hall, rubbing sleep out of their eyes
  • when MC gets into the main room, the first thing that catches their eye is a giant cake
  • are…is this a dream?
  • MC rubs their eyes again
  • nope, theres definitely a big ass cake in my living room
  • “happy birthday, meow!”
  • MC looks down to see robot cat 
  • its was carrying a piece of paper in its tiny mouth
  • MC leans down and thanks the cat for wishing them a happy birthday, then takes the paper out of its mouth and unfolds it
  • they read aloud the phrase on the paper, which was written in sloppy hand writing
  • “say the name and he will appear…?”
  • MC rubs the bridge of their nose
  • “Saeyoung?”
  • silence
  • “Seven….?”
  • nothing
  • “Seven Zero Seven?”
  • more silence, more nothing
  • they let out a sigh
  • “Defender of Justice, are you here?”
  • Seven smashes through the top of the cake in a flurry of punching and kicking
  • “I AM HERE! THE DEFENDER OF JUSTICE HAS COME TO ENSURE THAT YOU HAVE A GOOD BIRTHDAY!”
  • he was wearing a blue morph suit and a red cape, with a 707 emblem poorly embroidered onto the chest
  • holy shit, Seven
  • its eight in the morning
  • can you have like, even a little chill PLEASE
  • “i want breakfast…” MC grumbles, hearing their stomach growl
  • Seven puts his hands on his hips triumphantly
  • “you wish is my command, fair citizen! TO THE KITCHEN!”
  • Seven points in the air and runs into the kitchen
  • he runs back out a second later
  • he grabs MC’s hands and says in a soft, sweet voice
  • “happy birthday, baby. you can go back to sleep and i’ll wake you when breakfast is ready”
  • with that, he gives them a gentle kiss of the forehead and sprints back into the kitchen

THANKS FOR READING :))))))))))

I remember when I was like eight I went to these swimming classes at the YMCA. I was a pretty shy and anxious kid back then but this one boy came over and told me that girls weren’t as good as boys because God created boys first. And little me was not up for that shit. I remember that all my tiny eight year old brain could think of as an argument was that the female T-Rex were bigger than the males and would sometimes fucking EAT them after getting what they want and honestly that was a good enough point to me and just like even eight year old little me was not standing for that sexist bullshit

Don't Leave (Craig x Reader)

Don’t Leave

Craig x Reader

(Trigger warning: This imagine involves depression and suicidal words/actions. Read only if you are comfortable with such scenes.)

        It was a beautiful October morning. The air was crisp and smelled of autumn. Leaves crunched under your feet as you walked on the sidewalk. Today was Friday and you had the day off of school due to teacher meetings. But that wasn’t the reason today was special. Exactly one year ago was the day you started dating Craig Tucker.

        One year ago, the two of you were in junior year of high school. You were fed up with the dumb asses that were your peers and needed someone to rant to. Who did you normally go to rant to? None other than your best friend, Craig mother fucking Tucker. But Craig was in detention for flipping of Mr. Garrison, so you did what any best friend would do. You broke him out.

        After sneaking out of the school, you two got food at Taco Bell and went down to Starks Pond. Sitting down on a bench, Craig ate and listened while you ranted about how everyone in the grade was a complete moron and he was the only smart one you knew. Craig was silent for most of your rant. When you finally finished, he swallowed the last bite of his taco and finally spoke. “Let’s go kill people in Grand Theft Auto.” Laughing, you agreed. Cracking a small smile, he stood up and you two walked to his place.

        The two of you played GTA5 for hours, killing random bystanders and laughing when the cops tried to kill you. “Craig, I need you to pick me up,” you said.

        "Okay, where are you?“

        "In front of the convenient store by the strip club.”

        "I’m on my way.“

        "Yeah… Could you possibly be on your way a little bit faster?”

        "Why? What did you do?“

        ”…I may or may not have four stars right now…“

        "Damn, Y/n,” he said, “What did you do?”

        "Let’s see… I killed a cop, stole a cop car, drove it to the airport, stole a jet, exploded it, robbed this store, and shot the clerk.“

        "Holy shit.”

        "Yeah… Oh! Just killed another cop…. And now I have five stars…“

        "Alright, I’m here.”

        "Which one are you?“

        "The red sports car.”

        "I see you. Oh shit they’re shoot at me. I’m in! I’m in! Go! Go! Go!“

        "I’m going!”

        "Faster man! They’re right behind us!“

        "Thanks to someone.”

        "Hey! That cop was shooting me. It was in self defense!“

        "He was shooting at you because you robbed a store and shot a clerk.”

        "That’s completely beside the point!“ Craig laughed. "Oh! Wait, I think I have a sticky bomb!” Only a few seconds later, there was a giant explosion.

        "Did you seriously just sticky bomb a cop car?“

        "Yeah, but I’m pretty sure I blew up at least three. Alright, now drive to the airport. I want to steal a helicopter!”

        It was another twenty minutes before you were finally shot down by the cops for killing all the strippers at the strip club. “Dude, why did you kill that stripper?” Craig asked as your player reset.

        "Her lap dance sucked.“

        "Okay, but why did you kill all the others?”

        "For the hell of it.“ Craig laughed and you grinned. Finally, Ruby kicked you two out of the living room, so you went up to his room. Falling onto his bed, you sighed. "Dude, you sister sucks.”

        "Yeah. What do you want to do now?“ You shrugged.

        "I don’t know…”

        "….Hey Y/n…“

        "Yeah?”

        "Can I tell you something?“ You rolled over onto your belly and looked at him. He sat cross legged on the bed in front of you.

        "Sure man. What’s up?”

        "I… I think I like someone.“ You arched an eyebrow.

        "You think?” Craig bit his lip.

        "Okay, I do like someone.“

        ”…Is it Clyde?“

        "What the fuck,Y/n? No!” he exclaimed, his cheeks bright pink. You shrugged.

        "What? It was a valid question! You never said if it was a guy or not.“

        "It’s a girl…”

        "Okay….“ He was silent and you rolled your eyes. "Go on…”

        "It’s just… I don’t know how to tell her. I’m not really good at these sort of things.“

        "Maybe I can help you. What’s she like?”

        "Well… she’s straight forward, blunt, doesn’t really put up with any bullshit…“ You gave an encouraging nod and he continued. "And she’s really cool. She likes video games, especially violent ones where she can kill people.” You chuckled.

        "I need to meet this girl,“ you said, "She sounds bad ass.” Craig cracked a small smile.

        "Yeah, she is…“

        "Well,” you said, thinking, “She doesn’t sound like the kind of girl who wants the whole ‘overly romantic’ thing, ya know? Like roses, chocolates, and all that shit. Or any beating around the bush. I say get the girl some food, maybe a few cheat codes, and tell her you like her and you want to go out.”

        "And you’d think she’ll yes?“

        "If she likes you, she will.” Craig nodded. Then he stood up.

        "I’ll be right back,“ he said and left the room. Shrugging, you walked over to Stripes cage and began to play with the little guinea pig. About eight minutes later Craig came back, hands behind his back. You turned around, Stripe’s head sticking out of your sweatshirt pocket. Craig smiled at the cuteness of it all.

        "Took you long enough. Where the hell were you?” Craig only walked in and stood in front of you, who was sitting on his bed, his hands still behind his back. Silently, he handed you a bag of chips and a slip of paper.

        "What are these for?“ you asked, taking them.

        "Food and cheat codes,” he said quietly. It took you a moment, but finally the realization hit you like a smack in the face.

        "Oh…“ Craig shuffled his feet nervously.

        "I’m really not good at these things,” he said in his nasally voice, “but I really like you, Y/n. You’re fucking awesome and if you went out with me, I’d be so happy…” You smiled and set the bag and paper down before standing up.

        "Well, I do like it when your happy,“ you said. Craig stared at you with wide eyes and you laughed. "Oh for fucks sake, Craig. Yes, I’ll go out with you.” Craig smiled and pulled you in for a kiss, mindful of the fragile rodent in your front pocket. You felt the small animal nuzzle your stomach and laughed. “Looks like Stripe approves.” Craig laughed and kissed you again.

      That was a year ago. Things were so different back then. You two played video games like GTA5 and just derped around, causing mayhem and destruction wherever you went. You ate junk food and Googled cheat codes. You laughed. He laughed. You missed those days.

        Now, you two never played video games or really did anything for that matter. You hadn’t heard him laugh in so long. Hell, you could hardly remember what it sounded like! He never smiled, not even when he spent time with Stripe! It got so bad that his parents actually began to notice. They took him to the doctor and he was diagnosed with depression and prescribed medication. But you knew he didn’t take it. He always hated taking pills. But since he didn’t take the medicine, he didn’t get better and your relationship was starting to seriously suffer.

        You two never really hung out that much anymore. You never kissed. Hell, you can’t remember the last time you two even hugged! It didn’t feel like a relationship any more. He just wasn’t the Craig you fell in love with. So that is why you were headed to his place, to talk to him. As much as you loved him, both of you were suffering and the best thing for both of would be to end it. He could focus on getting better, and you could focus on school and college applications. It was for the best.

        Slowly, you walked up the steps of his porch and knocked on his door. You noted the car was absent from the driveway along with Ruby’s bike, indicating he was alone in the house. You guessed that was a good thing. The last thing you need were eavesdroppers. The door opened and Craig motioned for you to come inside. You walked in and sat on the couch and he shut the door and sat next to you.

        "Hey.“

        "Hey,” you said quietly. You two were silent, the only sound was the quiet ticking of the second hand on the clock on the mantle. You took a deep breath and let it out. “Look, Craig,” you started, “I need to talk to you about something.” He said nothing, but stared back at you. You took this as a cue to go on. “Lately, thing haven’t been…well… the same… And we are older now and have to deal with different things than before. You know, like making sure we graduate high school with good enough grades and the whole college thing is a pain in the ass. And we… well, we aren’t exactly 'us’ anymore.” Craig only blinked and you sighed.

        "Look, we only have one year left here before we go who knows where. And with everything going on all at once… I just… I think it would be best for both of us if we broke up.“ Craig had remained silent and emotionless throughout your entire speech, but with those last few words he stood up and walked into the kitchen. Confused, you stayed seated, unsure of what he was doing. But everything became clear when walked back onto the room… with a large cutting knife held to his throat. Startled, you stood up.

        "Craig! What the hell?!”

        "Y/n, I know you’re dealing with a lot of shit, but you are not going to leave me.“ His voice was hard and cold, so unlike the adorable nasally sound you were used to. You could only stand there frozen, silent, about a yard away from him. "You don’t know what it’s like, Y/n. It’s horrible. Nothing is good anymore. Everything is shit! Everything! And there’s nothing I can do about it!”

        "Craig, listen to me,“ you said slowly, careful of each word you spoke, "You can do something about it. All you have to do is take the pills-”

        "Goddamn it! I’m NOT taking those fucking pills, Y/n!“ he screamed, the blade dangerously close to his neck. "I’m NOT taking ANYTHING!” He was shaking now, and you were afraid he would end up slicing his neck, but if tried to walk closer, he’d press the knife harder against his throat.

        "Craig, please,“ you whispered.

        "No, Y/n!” he yelled, “Listen to me! The only reason I haven’t killed myself yet is because of you! Whenever I was about to, I had the fucking knife in my fucking hand, I thought of you. I thought of you and I couldn’t do it! You are the only thing keeping me alive and God help me if you leave me, I WILL do it!”

        Tears stung your eyes as you stared at him. He was watching you intently, his eyes wild with emotions. You don’t know how long you stood there. It felt like hours. The only sound was the ticking of the clock and his harsh, angry breathing. Slowly, you took a baby step towards him. "Craig,“ you whispered. His hand twitched, but he didn’t say anything, his eyes on you, unblinking. "Craig,” you spoke again, this time a little louder, but this time your voice cracked. His hand seemed to relax ever so slightly on the blade. “Craig, I’m not going to,” you said as you slowly walk to him. His gaze softened slightly.

        "What?“ he whispered shakily. You shook your head, still slowly making your way towards him.

        "I’m not going to leave you, Craig. I’m not leaving you.” His grip on the blade loosened more and when you finally got to him, you were able to slip out of his hand and drop it to the floor. He broke down crying in your arms. You fell to your knees, but he didn’t seem to notice, clutching onto you like a lifeline. You said nothing, but held him close, gently rocking back and forth. When he stopped crying, he slowly looked up at you. You cupped his cheek in your hand.

        "Promise?“ he asked, his voice raw and cracked.

        "I promise,” you whisper, leaning your forehead against his, “We’ll get through this together.” Craig let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes, feeling safe in your arms. Finally, after months of not being able to trust anything anyone said, not being able to trust his own mind, of not having anything to hold onto, Craig finally had something he could rely on. He had you and your promise. And one thing he knew he could trust, was you and your word.         

Imagine idea given by: http://imaginesp.tumblr.com/

The Price We Pay (Part 3 & Epilogue)

A/N: Okay, here it is, a few hours later than I intended. This is the conclusion to The Price We Pay
I adore each and every one of you. <3 I hope you guys like the way it ends. 

Rating: NC-17 (I guess. It’s pretty fluffy as far as smut goes.)
Warnings: Mentions of torture. 
In which, the reader is out of Hell, but the tough times are far from over.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Do you think Isaac would be a top or a bottom? What about Daniel? Isaac kinda seems like the kind of guy who likes to watch you ride him but idk

(i won’t speculate about daniel bc i don’t cross those streams lol) 

BUT OKAY. isaac is absolutely a bottom. which is not to say that he’s a lazy lover by any means. he just loves to be ridden. he loves being there for you when you need him. he loves encouraging you when you’re on top, spurring you on, cheering for you. taking you to highs you didn’t even know you could reach–especially if you were new to the experience.  

“that’s it, gorgeous. take it nice and slow.”

once he’s filled you to the hilt and stretched you out a little, he’d help you acclimate to his size. 

“just wiggle your hips a little, back and forth–oh fuck. no, do exactly what you just did. figure eights, just like that…” 

after you’ve adjusted, he’d let you take control. he’d almost challenge you with his smirk, leaning back with his hands intertwined behind his head. 

“take what you want, princess. i’m all yours.” 

you’ve got palms on his chest, bracing yourself as you lift off and slide back down his dick. when you finally find your rhythm… that’s when shit hits the fan. 

“fuck, when did you learn to do that with your hips?”

“i love seeing your tits bounce from this angle. you’re so beautiful like this.”

“does that feel good, yeah? how does princess like riding my cock?” 

when you come, he pulls you down by the neck, lovingly cradling your body with strong arms locked around your torso. he pounds into you from underneath and growls into your joined lips when you purposefully clench your walls tighter around him. 

he comes with a strangled groan, nuzzling into the crook of your neck, cock buried snugly inside your pussy. 

yeah. isaac is a bottom.

This is a Warrior film release interview (meaning post-Bronson & post-Inception but pre-Max) with Tom Hardy that’s both hilarious and insightful.  The interviewer did a good job capturing both the childlike playfulness of Hardy, and the edgy intimidating feel to being in a room with him.

Tom Hardy: ‘It’s a normal human impulse to watch two people kick the hell out of each other’ - Stuart Jeffries for the Guardian

[…]

Hardy jogs into the room flanked by minders as if he’s entering a boxing arena. How about sorting things out mano a mano, I suggest? It could make both our careers. He could get the slightly bonkers rep Christian Bale has had ever since he bawled out his director of photography on set, which might help establish him in Hollywood (Hardy’s current focus). And getting bopped by an angry thesp adds lustre to a hack’s CV. Hardy looks game: “What – out the back?” No, here. “Absolutely!”

Really, I was only joking. For one thing, Tom Hardy would batter me. You just have to look at his improbably pronounced neck muscles to realise that.

Hardy settles on the sofa and pours coffee. For the next hour he writhes and giggles as he chats about his career prospects. As he pours, I ask him about a line in the production notes for Warrior, in which he plays a troubled war vet who, for reasons that made sense when I saw the film, has to cage-fight his brother in a martial arts contest at the drama’s climax. It’s Raging Bull meets Rocky meets Rolf Harris’s song of fraternal solidarity, Two Little Boys. But one passage troubled me: “The son of a Cambridge academic father, Hardy is the first to admit that prior to Warrior he was not a fighting man and not intimately familiar with 'alpha male territory’.”

Surely this makes his dad sound like a mortar board-sporting ponce rather than what he was, namely, the esteemed writer of gags for comedian Dave Allen who, along with his artist mother, brought up their only child (Tom, born 15 September 1977) in the genteel London suburb of East Sheen. “The point is my father’s not really into throwing his fists. He’s got lightning wit, backchat and repartee to get himself out of a scrap – and nothing else. My father came from an intellectual and studious avenue as opposed to a brawler’s avenue. So I had to go further afield and I brought all kinds of unscrupulous oiks back home – earless, toothless vagabonds – to teach me the arts of the old bagarre.”

Hardy – with his machine-gun verbosity, rococo vocabulary and the non-remote possibility that he could turn at any moment and chuck me out of the window – is an appealingly odd interviewee. He pronounces bagarre with an exaggerated angry French accent. Then he repeats it. “Bagaaaaarrrre! It got me into an enormous amount of scrapes and trouble – and eventually I ended up in Warrior, where he [his character Tom Conlon] does it for a living.”

[…]

Hardy takes a sip of coffee, rolls on the sofa and stares at the ceiling. This would be the moment to take him. Cushion over the face. Shimmy down the fire escape. PR minder finds him later, open-mouthed and dead. Perhaps not. He sits up again. “In hindsight I can see it’s great drama, but when you’re getting your teeth kicked in and eating endless chicken and broccoli, you don’t really care.”

What does he mean? To look like a cage-fighter he had to eschew carbohydrates and eat chicken and broccoli incessantly. That wasn’t all. “I did two hours boxing a day, two hours muay thai, two hours ju jitsu followed by two hours choreography and two hours of weightlifting seven days a week for three months. So come on! You have to really want to do that, so it was a challenge.”

Hardy’s Warrior regimen put on 28lb of muscle. But what interests him is not the fighting style per se, but its spiritual dimension. “Ju jitsu is very Buddhist. All that we fear we hold close to ourselves to survive. So if you’re drowning and you see a corpse floating by, hang on to it because it will rescue you.”

Hardy rolls over to look at the ceiling. “But the embrace is about the breaking of cycles. The film asks: 'What part do we play in those cycles and what is fated?’ That’s very Greek.” But his character has to be beaten virtually to death by his brother to be spiritually reborn, which is very Christian.

Let’s not go nuts about Warrior’s spiritual dimension. It’s mostly blokes tearing lumps out of each other in a cage encircled by people screaming for blood and/or death. “Again, that’s Greek,” says Hardy. “It’s the gods who have decided to sacrifice this man. But let’s watch. Who do you want to win? Red car? Or blue car? Let’s watch two people kick the shit out of each other.”

[…]

Did that resonate for him because he was a drunk and a drug addict? Hardy collapsed in Soho after a crack binge in 2003. “That was a lesson to me, I was fed to the Kraken and popped out the other side. In death I was reborn, just like in the film. Because I’d always been this adrenal kid and then I became a little shit. I’m not now.” He’s eight years clean.

What did playing opposite a recovering alcoholic mean to him? (Nolte is also a recovering alcoholic.) “I guess I’m more sympathetic to the alcoholic. I know in recovery that you are entirely responsible for your actions but I also know you’re not the same person you were yesterday. Paddy doesn’t think he’s the same person he was yesterday, he doesn’t even understand that person.” So how can you be responsible? “Well, that’s the conundrum of the human condition, isn’t it? Deciding when you’re responsible is hard fucking work, man.”

[there’s a fun video interview (press junket - I’ll never find it again) in which Hardy and his Warrior co-star Joel Edgerton are both asked whether they now feel they could win a real fight.  They’d each done that crazy 8-10 hour per day training regimen listed above for 10 weeks before shooting started, and kept going during the shoot - so they both must have had some chops - but they both laughed answering basically ‘No way.’ They each commented that they’d talk their way out if they could, would get their asses kicked if they could’t - basically neither man is inclined to be aggressive in real life.]

so let me tell you about this movie.

when i was eleven or so, i was like, on the cusp of a kid who could tell a good movie from a bad one. like, when you’re little, you’ll just watch any shit they put in front of your face, right? well one day we went out with my grandma, and i wanted to see the movie eight below, but she knew a dog died in it so we went to see this instead.

now like, here’s the thing about this movie: i’ve only seen it once. i was sitting in the theater, 11, and i have limited memory of what happens

  • theres this dog, who in my memory, was a vain, selfish asshole who ate a lot of candy and deserved none of the hero shit he got at the end
  • there were two jack in the boxes but one of them was like an elsa jack in the box who wanted to freeze the world
  • they had to find the macguffin, which i think was a diamond?
  • i remember when one of the jackin the boxes “died” i, an 11 year old, thought “he so did not just die” and he didn’t.
  • a scene where the ice evil guy says “you can have three months off in the summer” to the henchman and the henchmans like shit REALLY and then he says “there will  be no summer” and i thought like well there will be it’ll just be cold? the fuck

anyways what i didn’t know is that in Great Britain/France, this was a movie based on a TV show, one that wouldn’t normally have epic adventures and the like. the show and movie was called The Magic Roundabout, and it was like…i could imagine it being good if you liked the show. like it would be good the same way the Spongebob Squarepants movie is good to us who grew up with it.

BUT HERE’S THE WEIRD PART:

everyone in Doogal has an americanized voice actor. not just the accents, but like, recognizable. my grandmother actually said “is that jon stewart” when the villain (WHOS NAME WAS “ZEEBAD” WAY TO BE SUBTLE") joined. that’s because, when released in america, the movie was COMPLETELY RECUT AND REDUB.

why?

i’ll quote the wiki here

Fairly Oddparents writer Butch Hartman also rewrote the storyline to accommodate multiple pop culture references (mostly from the The Lord of the Rings) and flatulence jokes (neither of which were present in the original release).

like. you literally could not write this shit to be funnier in a fucking movie. i am sad that i lacked the capacity to write this as a screenplay, thi sis some next level bullshit.

anyways, when i got in the car, my grandma looked at me the way she lookeed at me every time we watched a movie (and i had subjected her to some bad ones) and said “well, what’d you think? i liked it.” and i knew she was fucking with me, so i literally just burst into tears. this wasnt like a 4 year old, this was an 11 year old, and 11 year olds usually do not burst into tears. when she got me home, and my dad asked why i looked so upset, my grandma was just like “i don’t know, i think the movie upset her, there weresome scary scenes?”

no, grandma. 11 year old me was crying to lay rest to film as an art form. i literally stood in my room and promised i would never watch a movie again without being critical.

2 weeks later i say 8 below and fucking loved it, so thanks grandma.

Wrestling

Originally posted on my personal blog. (Superhusbands4ever)

Steve x Tony Superfamily

Prompt: Sleepy morning wake up fluff ruined by Peter.

Warnings: Smutty situations, language

Words: 847

Oh my god, who turned on the sun, was Tony’s first thought waking up that morning. His second thought of course was how the hell did I get here, I was doing a thing in the lab with Bruce-

That’s when he noticed the extremely muscular arm around his waist. Oh. Steve.

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Parenthood

[Part 1: “Family”]

content: Dean freaks out because his little daughter wants to know where babies come from. But little does he know why she asked in the first place …
word count: 2117


“We have a serious emergency!”

“Dean …?”

“C'mon, Cas!”

Dean grabs Castiel’s hand when the former angel just walks through the door and pulls him into a spare room before he even gets a chance to say a word.

“Dean, what is it?” His husband seems highly alarmed now, looking around as if he expects a supernatural monster to pop out of nowhere right next to the closet or the nightstand.

“No demons or shit like that,” Dean hastily assures. “It’s worse!”

Castiel’s eyes widen. “Worse? Leviathans?”

What? No, Cas, no one’s gonna die, okay? Jeez!”

Castiel folds his arms, his face serious. “What did you expect? You look agitated and told me about an emergency worse than demons! That sounds life threatening to me!” He sighs exasperated. “So, what is worse than demons or Leviathans?”

“Our daughter …,” Dean begins and Castiel starts to stiffen at the mention of Hope. “She … she wants to know where babies come from.”

Castiel blinks, a strange expression on his face.

Frowns.

And obviously waits for Dean to continue.

But when his husband stays quiet he finally asks, “That’s your emergency?”

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arukou-arukou  asked:

Please do actually tell us about the time you role-played Machiavelli.

So, we had a class called something like Social History but it was really just a Civics class, learning why you should vote and about the legal system and that kind of thing. And we had a really GREAT teacher, god I loved her, who tried to a) make this really dry, boring stuff as interesting as possible and b) do the mandated “team assignment” bullshit without actually forcing those of us who do not thrive in teams to have to be on a team.

We had a project where nine people were singled out to be Not On A Team, and the rest of the class was split into four small groups (there were about 35 of us). The job of the small groups was to present the articles of the Constitution to a panel of judges, and try to convince the judges to ratify the Constitution.

The judges were the nine people singled out to Not Be On A Team. Each of us was assigned a persona from history to roleplay, so our job was to study that person’s political writings and views and then once the presentations were done, write a “decision paper” stating whether they would ratify the Constitution. I don’t remember all the other historical figures, but I know that Julius Caesar and Emma Goldman were two of them, because I was friends with J. Cees and dating Emma Goldman at the time. 

So the presentations take place, over the course of two days, and the next morning we had to announce our decisions and turn in our justifications. And one by one the other eight people give their verdicts. TENSION IS MOUNTING. The teams that presented are nervously eyeballing us. They want to win so bad, I’ve never seen kids hanging on the words of Emma Goldman like that before.

Eight verdicts: four to ratify, four against. And everyone is looking SUPER DISCONSOLATE because we’ve finally reached me and I am Machiavelli and there is no way Machiavelli ratifies the Constitution. Even my girlfriend Emma Goldman, who didn’t even vote to ratify, looks at me with sad betrayal in her eyes.

BUT. I was expecting this, and I bust out my paper and announce that I am voting to Ratify. THE CROWD GOES WILD! And my teacher looks at me with this “You little shit” look on her face and goes “I’ll be interested to read your decision paper.”

My rationale was that Machiavelli would absolutely not ratify the Constitution, but he also tended towards passivity when it came to governance and he was in favor of allowing organic processes to develop favorable conditions whenever possible. My Machiavelli believed that the “attempt of democracy” was inevitable and may as well come sooner rather than later. He predicted that out of its total failure, a true leader would rise. He gave America a couple of decades before it fell to pieces and hoped whatever came after would be much more efficient. He haaaaated James Madison and his stupid advocacy of the minority voice.

I got a big smile and an A when she passed it back. :D

#345: 'Halcyon Days' (PART 2)

How Long Will I Love You: Halcyon Days (PART 2)- One Shot #345 

+past one shots

No visuals (songs are linked at the top of each section)

PART 1 HERE

Holding On : Month 2 (January, 6-8 weeks)

At six weeks, she knew.

When she threw up in the shower, unexplained, she knew something was up. When she started spilling out of her once perfectly fitting, nearly stitched to her shape, bras, she knew something was up. When Everly started refusing to be nursed to sleep at night and during their morning cuddle, she knew something was up. When she cried over a yogurt commercial, she knew something was up.

**

“Honey, this is going to sound a bit crazy, I know. But, are you pregnant?”

Gemma pulled the shopping cart to an abrupt halt right in the middle of the aisle and whipped her head over to her mother, who had taken the train down to spend the day with her as she sometimes did now. She couldn’t tell if her mom was joking with her, or deadly serious, but the look on her face told her it was the latter.

She couldn’t remember how to make words for a moment. “I…no! You kind of have to…have sex,” she lowered her voice. “To get pregnant.” It hurt to lie to mother, because she had always been a confidant to both her and Harry. She’d instilled in them from very early on in life that they could tell her anything.

“I wouldn’t blame you, or say anything if you were keeping some…company, at night every now and then. Maybe when Harry watches the kids?”

Gemma gawked. “Mum!”

Anne shrugged. “I’m just saying, love. It’s not a mother’s dream, but I know you’re lonely sometimes and I wouldn’t blame you for wanting that occasionally.” She touched her hip as they walked. “You just have that look about you, is all. Your cheeks are a little brighter and rosier.”

“Mum.” She swallowed around her lie. “I can assure you that I’m not pregnant or taking strange men into my house in order to get pregnant.” Her stomach ached and she hoped it was just from the nausea she’d had over the past few days. Bad takeaway from the other night, she’d told herself. But part of her told her that she was wrong.

“I know you haven’t had a cycle since before Everly, but it does happen, pet.”

Gemma worried her lip and regretted ever trusting nursing as an effective form of birth control. Even if it was just for a night. Because she could tell something was different and she was reluctant to accept what she already knew was a possibility.

So, while her mother went in search of pecans and bananas for muffins, she took a small detour to the pharmacy section at the back of the store.

She felt like a record stuck on its track. She’d only just done this. Back when things were so much happier, so much easier. When she’d longed to see that little green plus sign staring back at her in the tiny window. Now, she was doing this in the hope of proving herself wrong. She snatched three options she’d used before from the shelf and hid them under a carton of eggs.

**

She was huddled in her bathroom alone. Her house smelled of warm sugar and butter and bananas, toasty like pecans and she was staring at the three boxes lined up on her counter. With Evie down for a nap, and Noah at school for a few more hours, she had the house to herself.

She blew out a breath between her teeth and scrubbed a hand over face, before shaking one of the tests from the box.

At a time like this, she’d usually call Harry. They’d taken care of each other since very early on, and nothing had changed. But she couldn’t call him this time. Not for this. Locked away in her bathroom upstairs, hearing Everly stirring a little from down the hall, she took all three tests and it took no more an than a minute for her to get her results.

She had a green plus sign, two pink lines and a glaring ‘PREGNANT’ staring right back at her to confirm that one night with someone she knew she shouldn’t have, would be something she’d have to carry with her. She wouldn’t be able to forget, but if she was telling the truth, she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to forget the way he’d felt, the way he smelled, the way his fingers had felt dragging along her skin, the way her cheek pillowed on his shoulder, the way he’d paid attention to every part of her body, worshiping it the way she deserved. The way his lips were as little chapped and he’d kissed her tenderly and asked if she was okay after.

She hadn’t had love like that in a long time, even when she was married.

The thing that made her stomach hurt worse than anything, was the crushing idea that this could cause Harry and his relationship to crumble and she hated herself for it.

This wasn’t how she pictured having more children. She’d always pictured meeting someone nice. Maybe he had children from a previous relationship too. Maybe he’d be the successful business-type or a university professor in his mid-forties. Someone to kiss when she came home. Maybe he knew how to make a mean Arribbiata sauce and didn’t mind staying home with the kids part time so she could still work. Maybe they had a cottage in the countryside or a house along the canals in Amsterdam.

She hadn’t expected this. She had to tell him, and the thought made her stomach churn. She looked back at the tests in the sink and chewed her lip because she had no place to escape. No matter how jumbled the situation was, he still had a right to know. She trailed her fingers up from the waist of her jeans, already starting to get snug, skimming over the little lip of flesh below her bellybutton; her heart throbbing as her brain supplied what was nestled there.   

She hadn’t realized she’d been crying until a teardrop rolled off her nose. She wanted to say she didn’t, but she knew she was in love already.

And that was the hardest part.

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