i was paying more attention to the screen than to the screen shots :'d

happy d-day it’s a national holiday so i stayed up all night to write y’all a fic and had to go to a 12.5 hour work shift on no sleep so fucking. appreciate this

2000+ words, studoc because this is my house. d-day gives me lots of emotions

When Stuart walks into the living room at 4am for a glass of water, the last thing he is expecting to see is Murdoc digging through a chewed-up cardboard box of old cassettes as if his life depends on it.

“What’re you doing,” he asks bluntly, and it’s a testament to how many things he’s had to put up with over the years that this is phrased like a statement rather than an actual question, and that there’s no real surprise behind his words anymore. Stu’s been through the wringer, okay. You don’t get spirited off to a parallel space dimension and force-fed an entire fridge by an anthropomorphic slice of pizza without losing a bit of astonishment for everyday things like this.

Murdoc looks up, startled, for a second, then plunges his arms back into the box and starts rummaging around loudly again. “Found some old VHS tapes in the back of the garage,” he says, then stops for a second and yanks one out with much more vigor than is strictly needed and a loud clatter. He barks out a victorious laugh and shoves the box off to the side, kicking the tapes he’s already scattered across the floor out of his way and kneeling down in front of the television set. “C’mere, come look at this.”

“‘S 4am, Muds,” Stuart protests, but he shuffles over and plops himself down on the battered couch anyway. “What is it?”

Murdoc has somehow managed to coax the TV set into accepting the VHS tape and is fiddling with the knobs at the bottom of the screen. “Y’know how we got Noodle that video recorder that first Christmas we had her?”

Stu hums in agreement and wraps a throw blanket around himself. He can’t remember much about something back that far, but there’s a faint memory of Noodle tearing open a box and shrieking with delight as she ran around shoving a chunky, early-2000s camcorder in everyone’s faces. “Those her tapes?”

“No, they’re my amateur pornos.” The screen flickers to life and Murdoc settles back on his haunches before looking at him and grinning, illuminated by weak blue light. “Only joshing, I keep those on DVD.”

“Y’know, it says a lot about you that I can’t tell if you’re really joking or not about that.”

“Fuck off, not like I’d let you see ‘em anyway,” Murdoc says, then adds with a leer, “Least, not when you’ve got the real thing right here.” He makes his way back to the couch and settles into the other side, shoving his cold feet under Stuart’s legs and dragging more than half of the blanket over himself.

Stu makes a noise of protest. “Oi, that’s my blanket, get your own.”

“What’s yours is mine, love,” Murdoc says, and Stuart promptly shoves his heel into his crotch. “Argh, for the love of—”

They kick each other for a few seconds before Murdoc relinquishes part of the blanket back, pressing himself closer to Stu so that they can both fit underneath. “Look, you’re missing the whole fucking thing, pay attention.”

“You started it,” Stu mumbles, but leans back, satisfied. On screen, a practice session, probably from the band’s first few months, has already started. The scene isn’t centered in the slightest; half of it is obscured by an amplifier sitting in the way, and every few seconds the camera jolts as a tiny Noodle picks it up and moves it to a new position. She’s obviously sitting on the floor, trying to set it up so that the camera records them as they practice. Finally she manages to set it at an angle where it’s tilted up at the band, and runs out from behind to take her place next to a much younger Stuart, who has his hand down his trousers and is scratching himself, oblivious to the presence of the camera right at his feet.

“Nice,” Murdoc cackles from beside him, and scoots away as Stu aims another kick at him under the blanket. “Absolutely lovely. No, really, look at you, Dents. Satan, what a catch. Twenty years later, and nothing much has changed, eh?”

On the television, Murdoc steps forward into the shot, shoots a furtive glance at Noodle and Stuart, faced away from him, and sticks his hand down his jeans to scratch himself as well.

“Oh, nice,” Stuart parrots back at his own Murdoc, who is looking much more sour now. “Twenty years later and not much has changed, ‘s that what you said, yeah?”

“Will you just — shut up. Not like anybody noticed.”

“Muds, get your hands out your damn pants,” Russel says from somewhere off to the side of the camera. “You touch our instruments with those, nasty-ass—”

Stuart’s snickering and Murdoc’s groan almost drowns out the faltering voice of the Stuart onscreen. The sound is a little bit tinny, but pretty decent for a tape that’s just spent two decades in a moldering cardboard box. “Hey, uh, what song’re we doin’ again, because, uh, I know we just said, but I wanna make sure I’m singing the right one—”

“It’s Re-Hash, idiot, just like it’s been for the past four times.” Although Murdoc’s voice is the same as ever, Stuart notes, the years have had an unmistakable effect on his looks. The bassist plucking at his strings on the television has a much rounder face and tanner skin than the one sitting next to him now, and the red contact that used to be omnipresent in his left eye has long since been discarded. The bags under his eyes are much less pronounced, as well, making him look soft, round and baby-faced in comparison to his current, more angular appearance, although Stuart doesn’t think he’s any less handsome.

Murdoc notices him sizing him up out of the corner of his eye (how he does it, Stuart doesn’t know, since he has no pupils to show where his gaze is lying.) “What?”

“Nothing. Y’look different, that’s all.”

“Twenty years can do that to a person. You’re no spring chicken yourself, mate.”

“No, I know, but I didn’t mean it like bad-different. Just, different-different. You look less like a baby, ‘s what I’m saying. More like a — a velociraptor, or somethin’.“

“A velociraptor.”

“Pointy, y’know.” Stuart motions helplessly. “And green.”

Murdoc’s voice is dry. “Pointy and green. What a compliment, 2D, thank you. Really, I appreciate it.”

“Look, I dunno, it’s 4am, Muds, ‘m tired.” Stuart sighs and wraps himself tighter, leaning his head against Murdoc’s shoulder. “Can’t we watch this tomorrow?”

“Hush up,” he says with no real vitriol, and threads his fingers through Stuart’s hair. “I just wanna see this part.”

The light pours off the screen in shades of cyan, casting long shadows across the living room that jump erratically with the occasional roll of static. Stuart likes to watch it, likes the blue darkness that pools in the corners of the room, settles in the folds of his blanket, collects under the fringe near Murdoc’s eyes. He thinks it’s like being swept under a wing, or sleeping in a blanket fort right up against a window, cool and safe, free but protected. Maybe it’s a little bit like what moonlight must feel like, or maybe moonshadows. Something intangible. Something that blankets your heart.

“D’you ever think about what it would have been like if it didn’t happen?”

Murdoc’s voice is low and musing, less of a question than a thought opened to the air. He’s still looking at the screen, and if Stuart hadn’t been paying attention, he might have thought he didn’t say anything at all.

“If I didn’t happen, I mean. To you.”

It’s a question that Stuart’s asked himself periodically over the past twenty years. Sometimes more often, sometimes few and far between. There have been many times that he has looked in the mirror and not recognized himself — he remembers that sometimes, when they were recording the self-titled, or even Demon Days, he would wake up and stumble into the bathroom and start screaming because he had forgotten what had happened to him and he didn’t recognize the black eyed, toothless face that stared back. There have been many times that he has looked at pictures of himself from the past and not recognized himself either — they had all gone to Crawley to visit his mother and the headless Cyborg for his last birthday, and when his mother had brought out the old photo albums Stuart had not for the life of him been able to pick himself out of a group of his school friends. At times he has thought about this question and squashed down the thoughts that roiled up deep inside of him because all the what-ifs and could-haves made him want to vomit. At times he has looked around him, looked at Murdoc, and thought that he would not have wanted it any way else.

Of course he thinks about what it would have been like. Of course. He’s only human, after all.

Onscreen, Noodle interrupts a muffled argument that had broken out between them all with rapid Japanese and launches into the beginning, jangling riffs of Re-Hash. Murdoc’s eyes have still not left the screen, but the question still drifts in the air.

“I think,” says Stuart, “that if you hadn’t happened to me, then everything would be different. But not bad-different. Just. Different-different, right? And maybe — maybe there’s other worlds out there where you didn’t happen t’me, and maybe there’s some where you happened too much. Maybe there’s infinite worlds out there, and everything and everyone that’s happened to me, or you, or anyone, did or didn’t happen, in all the different combinations possible.”

He’s singing now, on the television, and it’s strange to hear his voice coming from the Stuart that he is and the Stuart that he was simultaneously. Re-Hash rolls over them, humming in the background like static:

It’s a sweet sensation over the dub

Oh, what a situation that don’t wanna stop

It’s the drugstore soul boy over the dub

With the sweetest inspiration, we don’t wanna stop

“The point is,” he continues, and the light is stretched across Murdoc’s face now as he looks down at him, piercing and straight on, curving electric down his cheek, stark against his dark eyes, “that I do think about it. It’s something that happened, and not something anyone can ignore. And sometimes I’m happy about it, ‘n sometimes I’m sad, and mostly I don’t know. But I can’t change it, and you can’t change it, ‘cause this is our reality, right? All we can do is make peace with it, really. ‘S different-different, and for me, at least, I think that’s okay.”

It is very quiet, the barest hint of music floating out towards them from the video. Then Murdoc nods, and gently presses his lips to Stuart’s temple.

“Guess you’ve changed over the past twenty years too, Stu.” The pad of Murdoc’s thumb brushes Stuart’s cheek, and Stuart lets his head fall to press against Murdoc’s chest, feeling his heart beat as the TV plays, and thinks that, just maybe, Murdoc had to happen to him, like someone out there’s writing their lives out like a story, like no matter what, it couldn’t ever have been any other way. Maybe that makes them soulmates, he supposes. Just a little bit.

He can hear his own voice singing in tandem with Noodle’s, and Russel’s, and Murdoc’s on the television. He’s always liked Re-Hash, because it was the first song they ever wrote and performed together as a band, and because it’s the only song where they all sing together as one, his own voice pressing them forward, Russel steady underneath, Murdoc rumbling low at the bottom, and Noodle skating over the top. Stuart leans back into the couch, facing the television again, watching himself crowded around a battered microphone with Noodle and Murdoc, Russel at his drumset in the back. He reaches up to the hand cupping his cheek, twining his fingers into it, and he squeezes gently, and softly, tentatively, Murdoc squeezes back.

The darkness crouches in the corners like a lingering embrace, the light spilling bright across the two of them together in comforting blues, and in that moment, everything that has ever happened is meant to be.

puddifoot  asked:

ahHHh could you do d/hr + "i mispelled an email to be your name & now we're penpals !! & actually hate each other irl" aka a 'you've got mail' type situation

this entire thing is just a really cute situation that turned into a 16 page situation, because i have NO CHILL

One-shot under the tab, but I like… I also put it on a03 to spare your eyes.

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Panlie Week Day 1 Submission

Sorry it’s a little late, but better now then never ;D Decided to do a week of one shot fanfics. Submission 2 should be on time coming later today, but for now here’s submission 1: Denial/Pining

               He was exhausted by the time he had reached home, even more so than when he had left his brothers and Charlie at the basketball court a mere half hour before. The four had planned a day out together with the possibility of Charlie staying at their place over night for a horror movie marathon, but from the overbearing sun or lack of sleep, or some combination of the two, Panda found himself unable to continue their current game. He announced his need to rest for a bit, promising to meet the three of them at their next scheduled activity.

               He pushed through the front door and absent mindedly made his way to the living room, before throwing himself on the couch. He reached for the game controller in front of him as the loading screen for “Battle Strikers” flashed across the television screen, the barrage of lights causing his already tired eyes to wince. He worked his character through its first challenge when he sat up with a groan, realizing in that moment that there was no possible way for him to resist his body’s urge for a nap.

               He set the alarm on his phone for an hour and then stood up with a stretch. He began making his way towards his room when with a sudden gasp he found himself crashing to the floor in a weary heap. He groaned, pausing to make sure he wasn’t hurt before looking back to see what had caused his untimely descent. A red satchel, the overnight bag belonging to a certain Cryptid, poked its way out from beside the couch where it now found itself tangled under one of Panda’s back paws.

               “Ugh, of course this is Charlie’s fault,” he muttered. He sat up and began to unwind himself from the knapsack when he noticed a flash of black and white coming from its opening. He paused, thinking of it could be before finally reaching inside of the bag. At first, his paw pads brushed against what he assumed was synthetic fur. He secured his grip on the object and pulled out a stuffed animal resembling a Panda, like the kind one would make at any chain of generic “Build-A-Friend” type stores. Gingerly, he made his way back to the couch, the stuffed toy still held in his paws.

               The first thing that ran through his mind was a question, then two, then hundreds. How did Charlie get this? How long has he had it? Why a panda? Could Charlie maybe actually reciprocate his feelings?

               Panda bit his lower lip at that thought, hard enough to make his mind blur and to distract himself. ‘I have to stop this,’ he thought to himself. ‘I can’t go through something like this, not again.’

               Back all of those months ago he would never have dreamed that this would have happened. Back when he first met Charlie he found him to be little more than a nuisance, but over time the furry giant became something of a friend. The physicality grew more intense along with their friendship, pats, hugs, occasional hand holding, even now and then a peck on Panda’s cheek, and before he knew it, he had fallen hard for Charlie.

               Panda had known for a long time about his bisexuality, that fact alone never bothered him. He noticed his attractions weren’t so clear cut, however. He found on average that it was much easier for him to find a girl he could make an emotional connection, or at least recognize the chance for one, but with the guys it was much rarer. The consequence of that being that once he did find a good he could view romantically, his attraction to them was far more intense, and so were the inevitable rejections. It was always the same scenario: fall hard for a guy, misinterpret a plethora of signs as hints to more than just friends, inevitably be crushed when they were undoubtedly straight. It was for this reason, despite the months of infatuation, the skipped heartbeats at his voice, his breathlessness whenever they touched, that he refused to allow himself any serious fantasizing about what could be.

               Still, the fact that Charlie had a toy that could purposefully be a stand in for the black and white bear was a notion that left him undeniably feeling-

               “Hey Pan-Pan! Just thought I’d come to check up on you!” a loud voice rang out followed by the slamming of a just opened door. Panda instinctively reacted a with a yell, losing grip on the stuffed toy as it fell to the ground in front of him.

               “Oh, I see you’ve met Pan-Pan Jr.” Charlie said, ignoring the sudden distress that he had caused for his friend by his sudden appearance.

               “Ch-Charlie! What are you doing here?” his face growing hot at the confirmation that the toy was actually probably meant to be him.

               “Like I said, I came to check on you real quick. You know, make sure you got back ok.”

               Panda sighed, “I’m fine, Charlie. If anything, you’re keeping me from taking a nap.” His attention turned back to the stuffed animal at his feet. “Where did you get this anyway?”

               The cryptid reached up to softly scratch at the back of his head, “well, after I helped you to your restaurant that one time, I’ve made trips a couple of times back to the city in costume. Only when I desperately needed something, of course. Well on one of those trips I saw that little fella hanging out in a window and I went and got him.”

               “How did you pay for him? You don’t even have any money,” Panda noted.

               “With the blueberries I had picked earlier that day, of course, dropped several where he was sitting. Can’t get much more valuable then food,” the bigfoot grinned.

               “Pft, whatever,” the bear said, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “Look, could you just go back to my brothers? Not to be rude but I’m still trying to get at least a little bit of a nap.”

               “No problem, wouldn’t want to bother my ol’ Pan-Pan,” Charlie responded, taking a few steps closer to the bear. “Sleep tight now, Pumpkin,” he continued as he reached down a hand to ruffle Panda’s fur. At that moment, it was like a burst of electricity suddenly jolted through from the tips of Charlie’s fingers. A sudden fluttering of his stomach consumed him and he could feel himself to begin to blush. With one quick movement, he knocked the hand away with his paw.

               “Ugh, Charlie, you’re messing up my fur,” the bear whined. The plea only seemed to fall on deaf ears, however, as the bigfoot was already nearly out of the door with a flurry of waves.

               Once the house was back to being silent, Panda laid himself out on the couch and waited as his eyes began to close on their own. Looking down, he stuck a hand out, his body seemingly moving on its own accord as it picked up Charlie’s stuffed animal and brought it closer to himself, wrapping his arms around it.

               For now, Panda didn’t want to overthink, to send himself into an insecure spiral as to what the toy could symbolize. For now, all he could register was that the stuffed bear smelled of Charlie, and that alone was enough to give him one of the most relaxing sleeps he had had in months.

My thoughts on the Bran/Sam/Rhaegar/Lyanna/Jon/Dany scenes and what I think they really mean!!!

Wow! That was a long title!! I also thought of including Aegon Targaryen/ Secret Wedding/Bo@tb@ng but figured that was a little much!! lol..okay guys so this is going to be kinda of long and forgive me bc I’m on my mobile but I really have to get my thoughts out there!!

I wanna talk about these scenes I named specifically but I will be pulling from other scenes as well from this episode. So the whole Bran talking over the scene and adding in the wedding scene over the top of what was supposed to be Jon & Danielle’s major love scene was definitely a way of letting us all know that that shit ain’t going to last!! It was most definitely a way of foreshadowing the doom that will end their sketchy, fast-tracked relationship. Let’s back up for a moment and talk about the fact that Dany has told Jon twice now that she can’t have children and then we also got Jorah telling Jon to keep Longclaw so that he can pass it down to his heirs. Most people assume this is some kind of foreshadowing that a baby will most likely be happening. I mean come on guys, not to hate on your opinions, but if you believe that then that’s just ridiculous! In no way do I see D&D being that blatantly obvious. This is Game of Thrones people! Nothing is ever as it seems!!

Now what seems odd to me is that there is a hesitancy in Jon that we see while he is standing outside of Danielle’s room. Once he knocks he gives his head a slight shake! If he loves her and is so sure of his feelings for her then why do we need to see this? Why does his hesitation and uncertainty need to be known? We definitely don’t need to see this if the love is truly there but it is there for all of us too see you just have to pay attention to the details and context of the scene.

It cuts the shot to Tyrion standing just outside in the hallway and he looks a little worrisome. I believe that Tyrion may see Jon as a slight threat bc Danielle doesn’t know Jon all that well but seems to take his advice over the advice of her true council. Tyrion doesn’t like the fact that Jon can so easily sway her decisions. I’d like to point out that Jorah also seems not to keen about this fact either. When Jorah advises Dany to fly her dragons to Winterfell but instead she chooses to sail with Jon bc Jon has convinced her to do so kinda pisses him off!! Why would Jon want to convince her to sail with him? I get that he says it will make their alliance appear stronger to the North if they arrive together but really that doesn’t seem like a logical enough reason. Did he have intentions of seducing her and why would he need to? It was very OOC for Jon to go to Danielle first, being that he is so noble and that he has said he doesn’t want to father a bastard child. I believe it’s bc he wants to keep her close. He sees what a good ally she is with her mighty dragons and armies. He needs to be sure that she will be there to fight with him against the Army of the Dead.

The scene then cuts to Lyanna covered in blood and Ned kneeling beside her in the Tower of Joy as Lyanna whispers, “His name is Aegon Targaryen. You have to protect him. Promise me Ned!” IMO that’s not something that reminds you of the supposed “love fest” that’s happening back in the boat but instead reminding us of the fact that Jon is in fact a TARGARYEN!! A true Targaryen with birthrights!!

Then scene then goes back to the ole bo@tb@ng and Jon and Danielle are in the midst of having sex! What!?! Like where was the undressing of clothes, the sensual and loving looks!?! We didn’t get to witness any of that. If there love for each other is so important like D&D want us to believe then why didn’t we get to see that love shine thru the scene slowly and romantically? Why did they cover it up with Bran talking about his vision? I’ll tell you why!! Because the scene of Jon’s birth right is more important than the relationship between the two of them. They were just noise in the background while the beautiful sound of Jon’s true parents being married and his true identity being revealed played on front & center.

We can at one point see Jon pull away from Danielle and she is staring up at him so longingly but once it cuts to Jon he gives us two or three deep heavy sighs while he is looking at her. It’s as if for a moment he is doubting himself. Maybe he even pauses here to convince himself that this is what he has to do. All the while Bran is telling us, “He’s never been a bastard. He’s the heir to the Iron throne. He needs to know. We need to tell him.” And Tyrion is still standing outside the door looking like…oh crap! This definitely doesn’t need to happen!!

It just doesn’t seem right to me that Jon loves her like most people assume he does. Granted, he may like her but he doesn’t really know her. I also found it amusing that Jorah, the guy that’s been there from the beginning, calls Danielle “the Conqueror”! That same title that Daario calls her before she left for Westeros!

If you throw in little details from the Winterfell scenes, I believe that Jon and Sansa could very well be working together. That she definitely could have known that there was a chance Jon may have needed to tell Dany that he would bend the knee without ever physically having to swear fealty to her. If you notice in the scene between Sansa & LF, when she tells him of Jon “bending the knee”, she doesn’t seem very surprised IMO. When LF questions her on why Jon would do such a thing without consulting her she puts on the act of “he doesn’t care about what I have to say and he never has”!! When really and truly we all know that he does. If he didn’t care about her opinion or what she has to say he wouldn’t have left the North to her!! There are so many things happening off screen, whose to say that Jon & Sansa haven’t really been writing to one another or that all of this could’ve been discussed as an option before he left headed South. We know for a fact things are occurring off screen bc I’m quite certain that Bran is the one that explained what LF was up to and thus began Sansa’s ploy against him!! So just bc we don’t see something happen doesn’t mean it can’t eventually happen!! Most of what D&D has tried to tell us on screen about Jon and Danielle’s so-called love for one another has been a big red herring for a greater event to come IMO!! Maybe something along the lines of Jon and Sansa!! Because really we all know that Jonsa is endgame!!

Thank y'all for reading!! I hope it wasn’t too boring!! Any questions just shoot me an ask!!

Simon D - Childish Jealousy

Originally posted by nam-sexual

Request: May I request a scenario where you and Simon D like each other but neither of you have the courage to say it. One day you’re caught in a blocked elevator and you start arguing for lame reasons but then he can’t take it anymore and kisses you? 

When you took a glance at the clock on your office wall, a wide smile appeared on your face. It was already half past eleven, which means time to get off work! In fact, working hours ended long ago, but you stayed behind to finish editing the music video you had directed for Tiffany, a member of Korea’s most popular girl group. You usually only worked with the underground scene and independent labels. It was the first time you received a request from such a huge company and truthfully, you didn’t want to do it at first because those companies were hard to satisfy and you practically had zero artistic freedom. The only reason you agreed to it was due to Simon D’s persuasion, since he was a feature on that song and of course the payment. However, you regretted it the moment you arrived at the MV set. It felt like you were at Simon D and Tiffany’s honeymoon. They were flirting with each other non stop and although you shouldn’t be bothered by it, it did bother you a lot. There was a strange feeling inside your chest, as if someone was tightening a rope around your body.

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anonymous asked:

Can I ask what that show Endeavour is about? Is it like detective show or smth? Is there any romance in it? I assume its good, since you post about it a lot... :D

It’s VERY Good!

It’s a detective drama set in 1960′s oxford (so, a period piece, technically) as a prequel to the Inspector Morse and Lewis tv shows. But you don’t have to have watched either of those in order to watch Endeavour. Most of the plots and recurring characters have no connection to the other two shows, and any references to them are made so that they have meaning in Endeavour without you realising or needing to know that they’re references if you don’t watch the other shows.

There is some romance in it (Morse has a steady girlfriend in s2, and there’s some ship-teasing with other characters throughout the show), but the romance is not a main focus and none of it ends well (due to the original Inspector Morse tv series and the books that show is based on having him end up alone). So better don’t watch this one for the romance, I guess? XD I’d say the most important and most developed relationship on the show right now is actually the somewhat paternal relationship between the main character and his mentor character, the detective inspector played by Roger Allam (who is very, very good. This show has fantastic actors in general). A nice thing about that is that while Thursday is a mentor figure he still learns and changes because of the main character he’s mentoring. It’s not a one-way relationship, which is not something I see attempted so openly often in any genre.

I like that each episode takes its time to develop its plot (all episodes are about 90 minutes long, and they’re usually not very fast-paced). There’s multiple red-herrings and subplots in each espidoe, so you have to pay attention to what’s on the screen while you watch it or you might miss an important detail, but the show never hides any clues the main character finds from the audience which is very nice.

But the best thing, the BEST thing (well, for me anyway, bc I usually care more about the characters in my entertainment than the plots) is that the show is  invested in its characters. There’s usually no extreme personal drama going on (like, okay so Endeavour gets injured or beat up a lot, which is lovely if you - like me XD - like to see your main character suffer now and then, but his private life isn’t the main source of drama on the show), but the principle characters are all very well developed and continue to change and grow throughout the show’s run, and even characters you didn’t think were very deep show new facets now and then. The show also tries to present the people the regular characters encounter in each episode as diverse and human with their own stories, as opposed to token plot devices - which means that the episodes stay interesting even when they don’t focus on the main characters. (the show’s main cast - i.e. the police - are very white and male, but at least the show doesn’t make the same mistake as other crime dramas or period shows that pretend that other people didn’t exist in the 60′s).

Oh, and the cinematography is just gorgeous. This show is in its fourth series now, but the directing, camerawork, editing, etc is still excellent. They really try to make sure that what you see on screen is interesting even if it’s just a shot of a tree.

Hello hello again everyone! ( ´ ▽ ` )ノ Over the weekend I managed to finish chapter 03, which means it’s time for another summary/ reactions post! ( ᐛ )و

And WHOO BOY…do I have some thoughts to share because let me just say, chapter 03 can basically be summarized as follows:


As always, this post assumes you know what happens in the game “Dance With Devils” up until Chapter 03 of the Left Door common route. If this is your first time stopping by, then please consider heading on over to the translation master list or checking out my last let’s play reactions here.

Massive Spoilers, some crude language, screenshots, and CGs for the vita game “Dance With Devils” beneath the read more cut. If you do not wish to be spoiled then please do not click the read more link! <3 Enjoy!

Todays highlights: Not a single damn one of these boys wears swim trunks properly, Urie tries to drown everyone in the name of Rem getting laid, and DwD becomes an episode of LOST.

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Happy Birthday

A/N: Yay so I finally got to this prompt, egoist!anon ;D Here’s the Hiroki x Nowaki tickle fluff like requested. I hope it doesn’t disappoint, I love these two a lot!:) Did my best to keep this SFW. Haha!

Summary: Nowaki has had it: it’s his birthday and Hiroki’s having this cold attitude again, and won’t even say he loves him. Well, he now knows how to deal with that…

Word count: 2045

The first time Nowaki noticed his boyfriend was suffering from a certain sensitivity, was actually during the very first time they made out.

He was kissing him passionately and moving his hands under Hiroki’s shirt, slowly ghosting his hands over his sides, when he noticed how this made him flinch.

Over time, he noticed more of this. For example when he would kiss Hiroki’s ear, or trace his fingers gently down his back. He found it fascinating how Hiroki would flinch at his touch, breath hitching and his body tensing up. Sometimes even the corners of his lips would twitch into a forced smile.

Yes, Nowaki knew Hiroki was a ticklish person. But he also knew his character, and the serious professor would probably - no, most definitely dread being tickled. And thus Nowaki, respecting Hiroki for who he was, never laid a finger on him. Not in that way. 

However, today was different. Frustration was building up in him as Hiroki sat across from him at their dinner table.

“You’re not being nice, Hiro-san,” he sighed. Hiroki simply kept staring at his computer screen.

“I have to check these reports, Nowaki,” he mumbled.

“Can’t that wait?” Nowaki asked.

“I never ask you to let your patients wait either, right?” was the cold reply, and Nowaki clenched his fist.

“I specially took the day off to celebrate my birthday with you, Hiro-san. You know how hard it is for me to do that,” Nowaki argued.

“We’re going out for dinner after this. What more do you need?” Hiroki replied, not looking away from his screen.

“We made reservations for 7 pm, that’s still two more hours. I want you to pay attention to me, you didn’t even give me a present,” Nowaki said.

“Um.. I’m treating you to dinner? That’s as much as a present.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what do you want?”

This time Hiroki looked at Nowaki for a brief moment before turning his attention back to his work. Nowaki frowned. Sure, Hiroki could be cold, and it was his character to be like this. But this was his birthday they were talking about. 

“I don’t really need anything but…”

“Then what’s the problem?” Hiroki sighed, and Nowaki scowled. This was really getting frustrating.

“I want you to at least smile and tell me you love me. That’s all,” he finally said, and Hiroki’s typing fingers slowed down and he suddenly shot him a scary glare.

“Might as well die then.”

“That’s not nice.” The mood was getting more and more tense with each minute, and Hiroki’s attitude was really beginning to piss Nowaki off.

“Come on. Tell me you love me and you can finish those damn reports aaall you want,” Nowaki said, raising his voice, but Hiroki refused to say a word. He just leaned back, stretched his arms stressfully and cracked his neck before continuing his work.

During the arm stretch, Nowaki’s eyes had casually wandered to glance at Hiroki’s exposed sides and underarms, and that’s when an evil plan to teach this brat of a boyfriend a lesson was about to be hatched.

Hiroki was older than him and a great professor, but that didn’t give him an excuse to neglect him on his birthday. He had to pay for this behavior. He suddenly raised from his chair, walked around the table with big firm steps to where Hiroki was sitting, grabbed him by his collar and dragged him towards the couch.

“H-hey Nowaki - what the!” Hiroki gasped as he was pulled from his chair. Being taller than him, Nowaki managed to throw him down onto the couch with ease and he wrestled him down. Hiroki ended up pressed against the couch, face down, and with Nowaki’s full weight on top of him.

“Nowaki, what the hell are you -” Nowaki didn’t even hesitate. His hands crept between Hiroki and the couch, and he dug his fingers into the sides of his stomach. Hiroki gulped and gathered his breath, cheeks puffing and his body twitching at the sensation.

“Nowaki!” Hiroki hissed, and he squirmed and struggled helplessly.

“One more chance. Tell me that you love me, Hiro-san,” Nowaki said with calm anger, and he lightly traced his fingers down Hiroki’s stomach until he found the hem of his shirt.

“G-go to hell!” Hiroki protested, and Nowaki smirked.

“Then you leave me no choice.” The doctor forced his hands under Hiroki’s shirt, and he clawed at the bare skin, eliciting gaspy giggles from his victim.

“W-wait what - haha - Nowaki, t-that tttickles stop!” Hiroki said, forced giggles spilling from his lips, and Nowaki smiled.

“I know.” He then proceeded to spider his fingers up and down his sides mercilessly, bringing up his shirt until over his ribs in the process.

“Nooo Nowakeehehehe don’t!” What had been controlled, muffled giggles just now, started to fade into louder giggles with a higher pitch to it, and Nowaki couldn’t help but grin at the sound.

“You’re pretty cute, Hiro-san,” he said, still slightly angry but quite enjoying his lover’s predicament.

“S-shhut ahahap!” Hiroki laughed, and a loud cackle laugh escaped him when Nowaki used his big hands to grab him around his ribs, squeezing and scribbling his fingers all over them. Hiroki’s entire body jerked at the sensations, and the more Nowaki tickled, the louder his laughter was getting.

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* Thank you so much for requesting ♥ *

Summary: Lately, you have been skipping hunts you would have never skipped. You stay in bed until noon, and your loss of appetite for greasy burgers and sugar coated cookies is all concerning to Dean. What you haven’t told him was, well you’re pregnant - and it’s his.

Word Count: 1030

Paring: Dean x Female Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, Language. 

A/N: I tried to make Dean upset about it, I really did. It’s just I don’t see him being mad lol. I hope this suits your needs :3

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anonymous asked:

Oliver is staying at Felicity's and they work so well together that he starts wondering if he should tell her he meant it, he can tell her or don't if you want, whatever feels right (I love your prompts :D)

Thanks for the prompt and it makes me happy knowing that you enjoy my fics;) Olicity is slowly becoming my favorite ship to write<3 (also i just realized that i tend to write in Oliver’s pov more than Felicity’s. Weird.) 


“Oliver hurry up! It’s about to start!”


Oliver pulled on his plaid pajama pants and shrugged on a white t-shirt. He didn’t even attempt hanging up his green leathers. Felicity would kill him if he missed the beginning of the episode. 



Doing one more double check of his meticulous room, sans the heap of leather on the floor, Oliver headed out into the living room and almost laughed out loud at the sight before him. 

Felicity sat on the floor in front of the couch, as close to the TV as she could possibly get without further ruining her eyes, all huddled up in a big fluffy comforter. Her bright pink nails were already digging into a large bowl of buttery popcorn, and the lights were already dimmed. 

“Well don’t just stand there!” she suddenly blurted, startling him out of his reverent gaze. “The show’s about to start and I am not explaining anything to you again.”

Oliver laughed and finally moved his feet. He contemplated having the whole couch to himself, but ultimately found himself sitting down next to Felicity. 

"What happened last episode again?” He grinned at the scowl that was promptly shot his way. 

“You have got to be kidding me.”

"Hey it’s your fault for making me cram an entire season in one day. All of the episodes are a jumble to me now.”

Felicity snorted. “Then you’re not a true fan.”

Oliver smiled at her in amused shock. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Felicity replied, a smug tilt to her lips. “But if you must know, in the last ep— Omg shush! It’s starting! I’ll explain later!”

Oliver shook his head but couldn’t suppress the grin that had become a permanent fixture on his face whenever he was around Felicity. He tried to pay attention to the episode but every so often his gaze would wonder and land on her bright eyes. He kept his mouth shut, even during the commercials, and didn’t call Felicity out on her own rules when she’d start babbling a theory during a heated scene. He didn’t talk when her hand would clamp down on his arm as her favorite couple kissed on screen. “Finally!” she had exclaimed. 

Oliver thought it was all really adorable. 

Living with Felicity had been some of the best months of his life. It made him wonder why he’d never considered it sooner.

Because you had a home, and there was no excuse for staying with her when you already had a home.

But did he? Oliver was beginning to think that she was his home all along. 

“Oh my gosh I can’t wait until the finale! Oliver did you see that?! Did you see that ending?!” 

He quickly looked at the TV screen, pretending to have been engrossed in the episode and not her face. “Yeah. Wow, that was pretty intense.”

"I know!” Felicity squealed, quickly getting up and taking the empty bowl of popcorn with her. She always had that period of non-stop movement whenever she was done watching her favorite show. “God that was some good acting! I wish I had that kind of skill.”

The comment instantly brought Oliver to a darkened mansion and tearful blue eyes staring up at him. Three words pressed against his memory and he turned to look at a giddy Felicity, dancing as she washed the popcorn bowl. 

I love you. 

He could tell her now, while the mood was light. He could tell her that there was nothing but truth and conviction in his words that day. He could pour out his heart and soul, telling her how much he loved her. 

"I like this.”

Oliver blinked, furrowing his brows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Felicity came back from the kitchen and plopped herself down in front of him. 

“I like that we can be roommates like this. It’s really fun and not… weird. I like it.”

Oliver sighed and gave her that heart-melting smile. No, he wouldn’t tell her yet. The right moment would show itself eventually. And when it did…

They’d be ready. 

Okay, so I wrote up this Reigisa one-shot really quick based off of this post and a tag of mine 

I shall dedicate this to you, Gaby x3 

There was a list Nagisa kept in his mind of all the things he loved about Rei; but one thing that was definitely near the top, was his hands. Nagisa always took the time to hold them whenever he could, never caring if they were in class, on the train, or in the privacy of one of their rooms.

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