i wish i had this job

stronglikemusic  asked:

I'm so glad that someone asked you about 4:44 bc I've been wondering. It's crazy to think that Beyoncé had to endure ALL of that. -But I really came over to do a celebration dance in your inbox from how much awesomeness we got from SDCC on Saturday with Danai. That celebration just made things so much better! Just her joy and the praise she got!! I can't get over it. Also I just know that with Andy looking like southern dad must have given you some inspiration sooo 😁😁😏 have a good week Ash!

Yeah, I feel like Bey basically just married her dad, and it’s weird to see what’s behind the curtain there. Of course everybody on Earth is at least a little fucked up, but to see the extent is always a little jarring. I just hope she’s happy with her babies! 

Anyway, yeah. Danai, is totally the queen of SDCC and seeing her with the Black Panther cast did my heart good. All those beautiful Black folks standing by her side. Her literally screaming about getting to make this superhero movie about a fictional place in Africa. How happy they all were seeing the trailer. I can’t. 

And yes, Hot Dad Andy definitely gave me Palm Trees vibes. Especially that picture where he’s got a towel and I could actually picture him on the beach. 👀 So I finally went back to writing again. And then got sidetracked by cramps but I will get back to it tomorrow! You have a good week too, babe! 😘

my mom and i were at chick-fil-a earlier today and we saw the absolutely most stupid truck ever in existence. it was some old beat up piece of shit with like a crap matte black paint job driven by these two white boys. it had a gearshift that looked like it was retrofitted from an old beer tap, it was long as shit and said “budweiser” on the handle. it had the side view mirrors attached to the hood of the truck, and had stickers on it that said “lowlife,” “#policelivesmatter,” and my personal favorite right on the dashboard, “no air bags we die like real men”

anonymous asked:

have you ever written galra hunk? (bonus if heith <3)

Just want to say thank you anon for giving me this prompt.  I had way too much fun with this, and I hope you enjoy it.

Title: Death Wish

Rating: PG

Series: Voltron Legendary Defender

Characters: Hunk, Keith, and the Yellow Lion

Summary: Hunk is a Galra mechanic who is simply trying to mind his own business as he works on a mining colony.  Yet, when he discovers an intruder he finds it hard to leave the matter alone.

It wasn’t any of Hunk’s business.  It didn’t concern him.  He was a certified mechanic for the Galra empire, and nothing outside of his job description was any of his concern.  His superiors made that clear the tic he set foot on this mining camp.

Yet, when he entered the hangar to start his repairs and spotted the intruder dressed in red, and white armour trying to hide among the crates, Hunk wasn’t certain what to do.

He seemed male, and if Hunk were to guess not much older than himself.  Hunk chewed his bottom lip.  The boy definitely wasn’t a local of the planet, and he should probably report him.  This was area was for Galra personnel only.  He should move his body and call the guards over right then. 

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All I want to do is art

I want to live to make art. For both myself and for others. I want art to be my full time job. It’s so fun and it makes me feel more accomplished than anything else. I wish I had more help to figure out how to make it a job, but I’m kinda stuck in this position where i really want it but I dont know how to achieve it. It’s scary cause i dont want to live my life in this position. What the hell do I do?

gardenerjetblack  asked:


ok holy shit
1- Scars?
on my legs but mostly from shaving / falling / dogs
2- Self harmed?
if scratching to deliberately make urself uncomfy/hurt counts?
3- Crush?
It’s @lesbroadwaymemes
4- Kissed anyone?
God I wish
5- Coke or Pepsi?
6- Someone you hate?
7- Best Friends?
One irl best friend, @gardenerjetblack, @whazzor-bruwn, @insertacreativenamehere, @monneygrabber46
8- Have you had alcohol/drugs?
I’ve had one sip of beer exactly once
9- What’s your dream job?
Freelance artist/Author/Graphic design
10- Ever been in love
Uhhh yeah with @lesbroadwaymemes bxsjhgjjsjd
11- Last time you cried?
Uhmmmm Saturday night for two hours straight
12- Favorite colour?
Light gray or muted teal
13- Height?
14- Birthday?
October 16th
15- Eye colour?
Brown, like shit.
16- Hair colour?
(Dark) Brown, like shit.
17- What do you love?
Writing, art, Brandon Uranowitz, the weisenbachfelds, my friends that I’ve already tagged here ❤️
18- Obsession?
Being a cunt
19- If you had one wish, what would it be?
To be able to meet @gardenerjetblack or @lesbroadwaymemes or @monneygrabber46 or @insertacreativenamehere or @whazzor-bruwn irl ajsjsjjssjjs
20- Do you love someone?
Uhhhhh platonically? All the people above?? Like, romantically-ish @lesbroadwaymemes though?? I guess???? Idk there’s so many types of love fuck You mean 🅱️ cdnjdsjjkdjsdmjkddjkdmjk
21- Kiss or Hug?
Why not both??
22- Nicknames people call you?
just TJ tbh
23- Favorite song?
I’m Breaking Down or Love You Like An Alcoholic
24- Favorite Band?
25- Worst thing that has ever happened to you?
@whazzor-bruwn creating thiccle and @insertacreativenamehere for tagging me in the big VOSSY post that started it all
26- Best thing that has ever happened to you?
Gal Gadot
27- Something you would change about yourself?
Personality and appearance ajsjsjsjsjsj
28- Ever dated someone?
God I wish
29- Worst mistake?
I am a mistake ajsjsjajsjaajs
30- Watch the movie or read a book?
The book!!!!
31- Ever had a heartbreak?
Not really???
32- Favorite show?
The New Normal
33- Best day of your life?
Seeing falsettos in cinemas with my best friend asjsjs
34- Any talents?
Art ( writing + drawing ) and uhhh my singing isn’t too awful but it’s still bad so
35- Do you wish you could ever start over?
Kind of yeah
36- Any bad habits?
Biting my nails/Scratching my arm whenever I get nervous and upset w myself
37- Ever had a near death experience?
I think so ajsjsjsjsjs??? I don’t remember,,, once I got rlly rlly ill but that’s all I can recall???? Fuck dude
38- Someone i can tell anything to?
@gardenerjetblack prolly damn asksk
39- Ever lost a loved one?
40- Do you believe in love?
Familial love, platonic love, and romantic love, I absolutely do.
41- Someone you hate/dislike?
I don’t wanna share this bc they know I have a tumblr ajssdnj
42- Are you okay?
Nah this is a uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh bad bad bad Time™ right now and self love/care is fake hhhaha
43- Relationship status?
Single/pining/mutual pining maybe but idk ajsjsj
44- Selfie?

“make the princess speak and you will have the crown of kings.”

my knees hurt, as usual, from scrubbing. technically i’m too high of Maid Station to help out with these things, but i like seeing what happens when you clean. the development of things. how a lot of effort can make something. i like learning and trying and working hard to get towards something.

and i’ve seen them, from the back of pillars, from behind cracked doors, from beside her (on the best days) the way they talk to her. oh beautiful won’t you just look at me. oh darling. if you speak i’ll be your prince. if you speak i’ll be your king. 

the princess, i know, finds the lines of suitors boring. it’s in the way her hands are always moving. she hides yawns, leaves early, we make her apologies. once, a man comes and tries to startle her into screaming. she rolls her eyes and looks directly at me. i have to hide my smile behind my sleeve. he is taken away while still screaming.

by accident, i find her once, crying. when we imagine princesses, they always cry daintily. hers is hoarse, angry, and something in it breaks me. in my station i should apologize and bow and leave. instead i am frozen, watching her shoulders heaving.

she looks up and spots me, her cheeks ruddy. i know i should go but instead i make a big show. i act as one of her princes. i make grand gestures and speak in deep voices. i frantically offer her handkerchiefs and trip over my own two feet. a smile crawls up over her, slowly. i dab my sweat away and offer her the used rag. i feign a fluster, turn a terrible cartwheel, make shadow puppets. the sound of her laugh, raw and rusty, sends shivers through me.

for a while, i do not see her after this. but then i am called to her chambers. she is crying again. i offer silly gifts, pebbles and dusting rags and a candlestick from her own kitchen, pretend to steal it, use it as a hat, rock it as a babe. she laughs more easily this time, gladly, and when she laughs i am taken by more important maids, thereby officially Excused.

it goes like this for months. the winter comes. i rarely see her. i spend my week thinking about ways to please her. i knick interesting cookies, show her shiny buttons, learn to cartwheel in a full skirt, and then promptly how to make it look foolish again. i learn how to juggle hot bread and dance as a man would, i learn how to balance on a ball and how to fall down without hurting myself, how to fake a fight with my own body, which colors she likes and which don’t please her.

i show up on a cold eve with a knotted line of scarves hidden down my sleeve, worried and breathless, wondering why she’s been crying. the door opens and she is sitting there, happy. at first i’m confused, but she waves me in. next to her is her small dessert, in two containers. i’m not sure how to respond, so i fake a fall to hear her laugh, and then sit at her feet. she gives me ice cream - so rare a treat. i know what went into making it - the hours of shaking. it’s smooth and tasty. i don’t feign my reaction, but she laughs anyway, kindly. 

it goes like this. i see her more frequently. she likes giving me new things, watching me discover i hate kiwi and love oranges and would die if it made her laugh breathlessly. i’ve made her keel over with cackling and she’s put a fire in me. sometimes we just sit there, quietly, enjoying each other’s company. 

it’s in her hands, always moving. little things i thought were just her, fidgeting. here’s how she says she’s thirsty, this is what her hands do when she needs a second to think, here’s how she shows she’s happy. this is how i learn to speak back to her. around her i spend much of my time smiling. i feel every visit is a gift. a new part to unravel. i find out she doesn’t respond to spoken things, that she needs to be looking in order to know you were speaking. sometimes she has me talk and she holds her hands to the base of my throat, her eyes wide and wondering. sometimes she just looks at me and i forget that i’m her jester in chief. i get caught up in her eyes, in how expressive they are when she’s happy, in how when she’s sad i feel like i’m drowning.

i never see the king or queen, but i know when she’s had a visit with them, because she never comes back happy. two winters i have known her, two winters and now we dine frequently. i am often called to stand beside her, to whisper translations of her desires into the ears of someone more important than i, someone who gets to be the voice of royalty. i can’t decide if i’m her friend or her plaything, but i don’t know i care much of the distinction. every moment i’m near her is a moment free of friction. i take stock of suitors and curtsy to them in daylight only to mock them in the candle’s eye later.

she asks me one night to stay. it has been a bad day. it’s completely not okay. i cannot say no but i cannot, by my station, stay. but she begs with her eyes and her hands and i know i’ll take the punishment. 

we lie beside each other. i make sure to turn to her when i speak. in the dark she can’t see me, so i move my hands in the way i’m learning. she asks if i am ever lonely. i cannot tell her that i am always lonely without her beside me, so instead i say i think all people are very lonely and just are pretending. she laughs a little at that and says she thinks her parents are the two most lonely people that ever met. her mother was like her; broke a fairy curse and talked, just once, although nobody knows what she said. well, excepting her father, who was the only one around, and who won her hand in marriage.

from her mother she learned the art of hands, of speaking without words - from her father she learned that who she was included a curse. that she just wanted someone who would make her open like a rose - someone who could fix her. how she stared out into the royal garden and wished on flowers to be what her kingdom needs.

she fell asleep pressed against me. i couldn’t breathe. i was still awake in the morning. 

the punishment never came. we spent nights like this. the handmaidens had grown to know me. whenever their princess was stubborn, i worked magic and made her lovely.

it was a terrible thing. i did too good a job, i think. the princess glowed too much or shone too brightly - or at least, i saw it that way, so who knows what the truth is. every day it felt like we were being rushed with princes. 

her father’s temper at hosting failed. it was the day before her twenty-first birthday and first time i’d ever seen him. he stormed in at the end of the session. “just speak!” he said, “it’s not that hard! do for others what your mother did!” 

“tomorrow is your last day of this,” he warned her, “either you pick a prince or i pick for you. i’m done with it.”

he stormed off. she was left shellshocked and trembling. that night she didn’t ask me to come, but i waited outside, just in case she changed her mind. i understood why she needed space. either she’d speak and be married tomorrow or she’d be married shortly. i heard her crying and it took everything in my power not to rush in and hold her, cradle her gently. but i cannot come into a room of a royal person without being invited. i stayed there, tears in my own eyes, thinking of treason.

the next day was a huge festival. what had been a birthday celebration was turned into a day about princes. i watched her shake her head. i tried to cheer her up. i tried everything. i frequently came inches from causing public humiliation, toed the line of mocking and failing to acknowledge my station. she wouldn’t smile. not once. not even for anything.

the day was long. the bonfire wore down. i watched her crumple into herself. i was out of ideas. i knelt at her feet. her eyes barely looked at me. just wait, i said to her with my hands, i’ll be right back. i took off running.

the price of stealing is losing my hands. these things that i spoke to her with. these things that mattered so much to me, that helped with my comedy and cleaning. 

i didn’t think of them. i bloodied my fingers when i ripped the royal roses from their stems. and then i ran, as fast as i could, back to her feet. i picked them to show you, i said, as she gasped, looking at my treason, they’re beautiful and nobody told them to open to reveal their secrets to the bees. they are unbroken. as you are. as you always will be. 

she fell off her throne and for a second i was beyond speaking, worried something had happened, or she’d fainted, or i’d said the wrong thing. but then she was on her knees, her arms around me, and i heard it. i heard the soft croak of her speaking. just one word, and it sent shivers down me. my name, in her voice, awkward and unwieldy, but full of love and passion, burning fire through me.

i felt a hand on my shoulder. i was pulled away from her. they already had me in handcuffs while i struggled to get back to her, to tell her i loved her, to beg her to run off with me or maybe just hold me around her, maybe just have her for a moment, because i couldn’t live without her for a moment longer.

they put me in the cells. i rotted in there, for a while or for no time at all, i’m not sure. the thorns scarred my palms. i watched the scabs build up and flake off. every time someone came down, i flinched, wondering if i would be the next to be taken and chopped into bits.

but one day the light was different. not the smoky torch of the jailer, instead a bright light in a lantern. at first when i saw her, my breath caught in my throat, mistaking her for my princess.

but she was my queen. at first we stood in silence. and slowly, i moved my hands to speak. is she married? is what came out, even though i should be more worried about me myself and me.

she is not. she bit her father on the arm when he tried to make her. then she fought him. and then ran away. it took us a bit to find her, i’m afraid. she threatened her own life and the life of everyone in this place. the queen was smiling. i was told there was a young woman who could make the princess speak, whom she would die to save, who brought roses to her feet. someone in a cell, rotting. are you her?

the memory of her voice rang through me. i’m she.

yes, her hands said, for even now, aren’t you speaking to the silent Queen?

she opened the door. come, she said, let’s get you cleaned up for the ceremony.

the crown of kings. when she wraps her arms around my neck and laughs next to me, i am royalty. when she smiles or makes a joke or asks to see my cartwheel again, i’m lost in her. i kiss her whenever i can, which is often. we have roses in a vase at the base of our bed, and for all of the kingdom, i’d give my hands if it would keep her laughing.

the next time she spoke was just once, at our wedding, where she said the two words i do to bind us for eternity. she had learned from me, from holding her hands over my voicebox, the way i learned from her how to use hands to speak. sometimes at night she says my name, just because she likes what it does to me.

i’m more blessed than a king. every day i spend with her is a day i spend happily. 

Watch The Speech That Should End The Confederate Monuments Debate For Good
New Orleans Mayor Mitch Landrieu's address makes it even harder to defend statues honoring the "cult of the Lost Cause."

It is a lot of work trying to stay on top of the pace of the news cycle: horrific attacks, like explosion that murdered 22 people and injured 59 in Manchester; the “Great Unraveling” of Trump’s scandal-ridden administration; the dismantling of progressive and beneficial programs, policies, and institutions while malicious and regressive legislation is being passed; and on and on… All of it important, all of it pressing. But if you can make the time, I recommend watching, listening to, or reading the powerful speech by New Orleans Mayor Mitch Landrieu in the link above.

And to compare and contrast, check out Mississippi state representative Karl Oliver’s now-deleted response to the removal of these Confederate monuments here, calling for the—emphasis his, in all caps—“LYNCHING” of the Black city council members who voted to back the removal. That is a very specific word in a very specific context, meant to spread terror and violence with the goal of submission in the name of racial supremacy. The kicker is that, as a friend of mine stated, “We’ve officially reached the point where you can literally say anything and face no repercussions at election time. This guy is probably in zero danger of losing his job.”

There are many false narratives and historical fantasies that the majority of us Americans live under, arguably more than we open our eyes to—or educate kids on—the ugly truths of how and why we got to this place in history. As I’ve written on this blog before, I wish I had received more education on this huge and crucial swath of American history as I attended public school in the South, but most of it was glossed over… Kudos to the New Orleans City Council, Mayor Landrieu, and everyone else who worked to unveil this truth and stamp out oppression. Sadly, it will continue to thrive despite these efforts, but efforts like these must continue, including holding people like Karl Oliver accountable.

Someone to Watch Over Me

Title:  Someone to Watch Over Me (A Bodyguard AU)

Series Masterlist (coming soon)

Author:  Dean’s Dirty Little Secret

Six months ago, everything changed. Widowed and alone, Dean Winchester is determined to pick himself up and move on, so he goes back to his job as a bodyguard for Singer Protective Services. His first assignment? An actress receiving death threats, an actress with an uncanny resemblance to his wife.

You don’t want protection, don’t need it. Especially from someone as cold and impersonal as Dean Winchester. You’re not afraid of a bunch of stupid death threats, you just want to be left alone to live your life.

Two people, two very different lives. Who will be the first to let the armor slip?

Characters:  Dean Winchester, Female reader, Bobby Singer, Tiny, Sam Winchester (mentioned), Georgia (OFC), Melissa (OFC-mentioned)

Word Count:  2936

Warnings: language, mentions stalking, death threats, mentions of blood

Author’s Notes: This was written for two challenges: @impala-dreamer One Prompt for All (had to be Dean x Reader, no more than 3,000 words, and the prompt: “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to kill me.”) and @luci-in-trenchcoats AU & Things Challenge (I chose Bodyguard AU). I’m not gonna lie, a lot inspiration for this came from the Whitney Houston/Kevin Costner movie The Bodyguard.

***My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

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From the commentary of Leverage 4x18, The Last Dam Job.

Dean Devlin, John Rogers and Wil Wheaton:

Dean: Now, a little tidbit for fans out there. The artwork you’re seeing on the wall, actually the tiles from the very original Stargate, the movie. Which I still have.

John: AHHH! That’s awesome!

Dean: Right there. It was actually, the show had wrapped. And I was getting in my car, to drive to the airport. And I noticed that someone had dismantled the Stargate and thrown it in a big giant dumpster. And I went, “NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!” And I dove into the dumpster, pulled out all these tiles, boxed them up, and took them home.

John: I’ll tell ya’, that The Stargate, I wish you had it, ‘cause there’s a lost shot – one we could not do – when we bring the team back together at the beginning of season two. We have a little moment of when everyone said what they did during the break and Eliot’s was gonna be, “What did you do?” And we were gonna flash to the Stargate, with him in the gear, going, “Alright! But this is the LAST TIME.” And then flash back and him going. “No.” But the Stargate was BROKEN! It was thrown away!

Wil: I have this picture of you, Dean, looking in that dumpster at the Stargate pieces, going, “THEY BELONG IN A MUSEUM. ON A SHOW I HAVEN’T CREATED YET.”

Dean: Exaxtly!

Media Naranja II

Originally posted by warmth-and-wishes

Read the first part here!: http://ofnifflersandkings.tumblr.com/post/163032782062/media-naranja"

media naranja (n.) one’s better half; a partner, a spouse, or a soulmate; lit. “half of an orange”

Okay, so maybe showing up to the fountain everyday after your first encounter was a little overkill. But it’s not like Connor had asked for your phone number or any other form of getting into contact with you, so this was his best bet of seeing you again.

Plus his dumbass had let it slip over dinner that he made a friend because ‘Yes Zoe, I actually do have friends.’ suddenly became the buzz of the evening, and of course his sister asked a thousand and a half questions about his friend. The only soild answer he could give her was your name.

Of course, his parents were simply over the moon with the fact that he made a friend, asking when you could come over for dinner or if they could meet you.

“It’s been almost a week since you mentioned ’(Y/n)’, are you sure she’s even real?” Zoe asked him one evening.

Connor glared at her and their mother was quick to step in.

“Zoe, what did I tell you about starting with your brother?”

Zoe feigned a surprised expression as she shrugged. “What? It’s a valid question.”

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Connor said as he frowned at her. “But we’re meeting tomorrow.”

Cynthia immediately perked up. “Well that’s wonderful! Why don’t you invite her over for dinner?”

Connor was about to object, but the stupid look his sister was giving him was enough to change his mind. “Sure,” He forced out. “I’m sure she’d love to.”

Cynthia smiled. “Oh this is going to be so much fun!”

This was an absolute shit show.

Connor sprinted to the fountain place, praying to whoever was floating around in the sky that you’d show up today. If he ever needed the universe to be on his side for once, now was the time.

But the universe never seemed to be in favor of Connor Murphy. Because whenever he stepped off the walking path, he was met with the usual empty space he would see before you came along.

Connor groaned loudly and had to refrain himself from throwing whatever was in his bag at the stupid birds that were littered around the pool of the fountain.

I mean what the hell.

You said you came here during the week, and Connor hadn’t seen you since your first meeting.

Maybe you were just messing with him when you said you wanted to see him. Maybe as soon as he left you took off running to find somewhere else to read your books.

It certainly wouldn’t be the first time someone he had the potential of getting close to suddenly never spoke to him again.

Connor kicked a loose stone across the way, hands ruffling up his hair in frustration.

Then again he did yell at you before he even knew your name, so maybe it was warranted.

While he was running through this internal monologue, he didn’t notice you sneak up behind him, planning to scare him.

You placed your hands on his shoulders and whispered “Boo!” into his ear, cackling up a storm whenever he jumped into the air.

“What the hell?” Connor shouted, his hand covering his ear whenever he whirled around to face you. His face getting all red whenever he saw you laughing.

“Your face was priceless!” You cheered.

Connor even found himself laughing a little. “Well don’t you just feel proud of yourself?”

“Little bit.” You replied with a cheeky grin as you winked at him.

Connor scoffed. “Where the fuck have you been? I’ve come here like everyday and you were nowhere to be found.”

“Well we went out of town to vist my sister in-” You halted your explanation when a smile formed on your face.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Stop it. It’s creeping me out.”

“Did you just admit to coming here everyday for the past week just to see me?” You said, taking a step towards him while your hands went behind your back.

Connor’s face went through several emotions before he pushed you away. “Shut up,” He said as he folded his arms. “My mom wants you to come by for dinner, so is that cool, or whatever?”

“Your mom wants to have me over?”

“That’s what I said isn’t it?” He said sharply, before backtracking. “Uh yes, she does. I may or may not have told them about meeting you.”

“Does this have something to do with your sister, cause you two didn’t to seem to be on the best of terms-”

“Look do you want to come or not?” Connor cut you off, anything relating to his sister was something he didn’t want to talk about.

You laughed and gave him a nod. “Sure, I don’t see why not.”

“Great!” He announced, grabbing onto your hand and leading you away from the fountain, just wanting to get the evening over with.

“Are you just always gonna yank on my arm whenever you feel like?” You asked once he finally released you at the front of his house.

“What?” He asked, looking over to you before understanding what you meant. “Oh, yeah, sorry about that.”

Connor went to open his door but his head stopped a few inches away before he turned to fully face you. “Look, my family’s like really disfunctional. My mom’s probably gonna be all over you, asking you like a thousand questions, my dad will probably introduce himself and make a few comments over dinner but that’s usually it. And my sister,” he broke himself off to brush back his hair. “Let’s just say my sister hates my ass and would rather have her teeth pulled out one by one than be in the same room as me.”

You blinked at him. “I think I can manage.”

He locked eyes with you for a second before pushing the door open. “Time to swim with the sharks.” He said, closing the door once you entered.

Like clockwork, his mother came rushing down the stairs with a huge smile on her face.

“Hello! You must be (Y/n), Connor’s friend,” She said, practically beaming as you shook hands. “I’m Cynthia, it’s so nice to finally meet you!”

“It’s very nice to meet you, too.” You said, returning her smile.

She looked back at Connor. “Well? Aren’t you going to take your guests’ coat?” She asked before looking back at you. “Dinner will be out in a little while.”

Connor waited until she left the enterence way before sighing as he took your coat. “Told you.”

“Oh no,” You said, folding your arms and turning to him. “She seems friendly.”

Connor gave you a half smile as he put your stuff away. “So, this is my humble aboad,” He said, holding out his hands as he made a grand gesture of showing the hallway. “Make yourself at home”

You were about to reply when someone else came bounding down the stairs.

“Oh dear god.” Connor mumbled as he tried to push you away from his sister.

“Oh my god,” Zoe said as she stopped on the bottom step, looking at you both in disbelief. “I can’t believe it, your friends with (Y/n)(L/n).”

“Sorry, do I know you?” You asked, peeking from behind Connor’s shoulder.

She smiled at you. “Probably not, you sometimes conduct for the jazz band when our instructors are with the junior high.”

Your eyes soon lit up with realization before you pushed past Connor. “No wait, your one of the guitar players,” You said waiting for her nod of confirmation. “Brilliant! You’re actually really good, I-”

“Okay, we’re going to my room!” Connor announced, taking your hand and hauling you up the stairs and leaving his sister behind.

Connor kept you tucked in his room, keeping you away from the rest of his family until his mother called you both down for dinner.

Much to his amazement though, you got along well with his family. His mother doted on your every word, asking you all the questions that came to her mind, even his dad kept interest for most of the evening, wanting to get to know the first friend his son had over since he could remember. Connor kept his gaze either focused on his plate or gave you small side glances.

Except when he might have let himself stare a little too long, because when he looked over to his mom she had this weird smile on her face and her eyes were all lit up.

His neck got all warm and he made a point of staring down at his food the rest of the evening.

“Thank you for having me over, but I think it’d be best if I took my leave now.” You said, smiling to everyone as you stood up from the table. “Unless you’d like me to help with the washing up?”

“Oh no!” Cynthia said as she stood up as well. “Thank you for offering but I can take care of it.” She said, givng a side look at her son, mentally letting him know to see his guest out.

“I’ll be at the door.” Connor said curtly, jerking his chair back and walking to the hallway.

“Come over whenever you’d like, we’ll be glad to have you.” Cynthia told you as she gave you a small shoulder pat and one final smile before going into the kitchen with your plate.

You said goodbye to the rest of the Murphy’s before meeting Connor at the door, your coat already in his hands.

You went to reach for it but Connor pulled it back. “Nah, I got it,” He said, motioning for you to turn around so he could help you put it on.

“Thank you,” You told him once you were secure in your coat. “For that and the evening, your family’s pretty great.”

Connor scoffed. “Try living with them,” He said with a bitter laugh before clearing his throat and looking at you. “But yeah, I actually had fun watching you interact with them so, thanks for coming over.”

You smiled at him before nodding. “Well, I’ll see you at the fountain?”

Connor blinked and nodded back. “Y-Yeah, sure. See ya.”

You opened the door, being greeted with a light rain hitting the pavement before you put your hood up and Connor watched you walk down the porch and turn to the street before he called out to you.

“Hold up!”

You raised and eyebrow but waited regardless, Connor pulled his coat from the closet and an umbrella from the basket before calling to his mom that he’d be back soon.

He shoved his hands into his coat sleeves as he jogged over to where you were waiting. “Lemme walk you home.”

You offered him a smile. “You don’t have to.”

“No, no, I want to.” He said, smiling back at you before he held out his hand to you and wiggled his fingers. “I promise not to yank on you this time.”

You laughed, and slowly latched onto his hand. “Well if you insist.”

Connor made a show of opening the umbrella and situating it to cover the both of you from the drizzle as you began your walk into the night.

A/n: Part 3?

A PSA to young folk:

If someone you’re interested in says something like, “You shouldn’t be with me, because I’m damaged and I only hurt everyone, and I’ll never get better,” BELIEVE THEM.  Because they are saying that for one of two reasons:

1- They think it’s cool and romantic to be dark and damaged.  They are incorrect.  Fetishizing mental illness is not ok.

2- They truly believe this about themselves, and are unwilling to do anything to work on their issues, right now, and will take their hurt out on you.  Things may change in a few years, when they are ready to face it, but it is NOT YOUR JOB TO FIX THEM.  YOU ARE NOT THIER SAVIOR.

However, if someone you’re interested in says something like, “Yeah, I have issues, but I’m working on them.  It’s hard, and I don’t always win, but I’m working on it.“  That’s a good sign.  It means they’re self-aware enough to be in a healthy relationship.  But please remember, even then, that IT IS NOT YOUR JOB TO FIX THEM. 

Bottom line: when someone tells you who they are, believe them.

Pro revenge from a revenge pro.

(long story. TL;DR at the end)

If you think about it cynically, one of the functions of the police is to provide a sort of society-wide revenge service. Unfortunately for this sub, it’s usually kind of boring. When cops do take exceptional revenge, it’s usually unfortunate and icky, like a dirty beating in the no-camera areas of the copshop, or giving someone the silent-patrolman treatment during transport. Fortunately, most cop revenge isn’t dramatic - it’s procedural. You misbehave, we do the paperwork, and eventually some consequences happen, or not.

Sometimes, however, you get a chance to take a bit of vengeance that is (i hope) the very definition of professional.

For a time, I was a small-town Canadian cop, working in $hicksville, $province. Several years before I came to work in the town, there was an event which entered town legend (and made national news - the funny little throwaway story they go to just before the end of the broadcast). Some kids committed an act of spectacular and iconic vandalism, and cost the town quite a bit of money. They were all caught, tried and sentenced to probation terms with restitution. I would love to provide details, but anything more would be immediately identifying.

Keep reading

spitfirechick  asked:

Hi! Are you taking prompts right now? If not, super sorry to bother you! But if you are, do you think you could write some fluffy nurseydex? I've been having a bad day and could use a pick me up. Thanks either way!

Hi! Could you maybe write a nurseydex comfort?? I’m a bit down rn, people keep bashing my hockey team just because we won

“I almost cried in front of three different advisors today,” Dex huffs, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

“Oh - um,” Nursey chokes out. He’s a little caught off guard - he certainly wasn’t expecting that response when he asked Dex how his day went.

“I didn’t actually cry,” Dex shrugs, as if that makes it better, “Thought about it, though.”

Nursey doesn’t know if he’s supposed to press for more information or let Dex be. They’ve been dating for a month, he’s still trying to feel their relationship out. He waits a beat, and when Dex doesn’t elaborate at all he can’t help himself from asking, “Why?”

Keep reading

The Perfect Blind Date - Dylan O’Brien

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Characters: Dylan O’Brien/Reader

Word Count: 10,822

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Oral (both receiving), Multiple Orgasm, Public Kissing, Unprotected Sex, Morning Sex, Shirtless Dylan at the beach, Dylan on a motorcycle, slight shade coming from me towards my ex

Notes: So, @ninja-stiles an I were talking on day and we were sharing these motorcycle pictures of Dylan and Chris and we’re like “OMG WE SHOULD WRITE ABOUT THIS!” So, I wrote the Dylan side while she did the Chris side. The two fics are linked in plot but different in character and execution. So make sure to give hers a read as well! Also, this is slightly AU. Dylan is not famous here. Let him be a normal guy for a day y’all.

(As a note, her internet was being shitty today so I will post a link here as soon as she gets hers up! But still read hers once it is up because it is so good)

It’s hard to want to date when so many bad things have happened to you. One wrong turn in a relationship, and everything comes crashing down. Once that happens, why would you want to get back out there? You worry that the same thing will happen again, or that you won’t find the great guy you wish will sweep you off your feet the way you always imagine it.

Well, welcome to my life, honey.

Keep reading

『 masterpost 1/15 for 1.5k appreciation! 』

my goal for this summer is to become much more focused on posting frequent original content–whether it be masterposts, photos or quotes. but as this seems to be a rather common goal among studyblrs, i thought it would be fun to share a list of 25 original content ideas for your studyblr (that you can steal!).

1. stationery masterpost (list of all of your favorite and most used stationery!)

2. “what to do with your studyblr during summer” post (name some things and content to post on your studyblr to stay active on tumblr over the summer)

3. tutorial (ex: how i take notes, how i design printables, how i stay productive etc.)

4. self-care masterpost (list some ways that you use to calm down, relax and take care of yourself when you’re stressed or feeling down)

5. study playlist (name some of your favorite study tunes *cough* kpop *cough* and perhaps even link to a spotify playlist with the songs added to it!)

6. “how to start a studyblr” (share some of your best tips for newbie studyblrs!)

7. story (share a story that might be motivating, inspiring or helpful for others to hear–it can be anything from how you moved on from a bad grade, a time when you worked hard for something you wanted, or anything else that could be inspiring!)

8. challenge (start up your own challenge! it can be anything pertaining to studyblr! ex: the 30 days of bujo challenge, the summer productivity challenge etc.)

9. studyspo pics (this one is pretty obvious, but it never hurts to post pics of your notes, stationery and whatnot over the summer, even if you’re not actually taking any intensive, rigorous courses over the summer)

10. book recs (since people tend to do a lot of reading over the summer, give your fellow studyblrs a list of your favorite books that you think they should try out!)

11. movie/TV show recs (same with the book recs, but with movies or TV shows instead)

12. quotes (whether you make up some quotes yourself, or take some from the internet, posting inspiration like this on tumblr can be extremely motivating to people who might see it!)

13. “studyblr on a budget” (there seems to be a myth that in order to be a successful studyblr, you need to have fancy, expensive stationery. and that is 100% not true! share some of your tips for budget studyblrs!)

14. “what i wish i had known about/before _____” (ex: what i wish i knew before my first year of uni, what i wish i knew about pre-calc, what i wish i knew before my first job interview etc.)

15. how to prepare for b2s (what are some of your tips for preparing to go back to school? any specific things/steps people should do/follow before heading back?)

16. “how to self-teach _____” (ex: how to teach yourself french, the best resources for learning chinese on your own etc.)

17. “how to be more productive” (share what methods you use to stay more productive! ex: how i use the pomodoro technique to be more productive, how to be more productive when you’re tired etc.)

18. sleep masterpost (it seems like as students, we’re all doomed to be eternally tired! share some tips for getting enough sleep, sleeping well, waking up quickly, and staying awake throughout the day!)

19. apps masterpost (what apps do you regularly use as a student? google drive? evernote? goodnotes? photomath? list all of them in a masterpost!)

20. printables (try your hand at making some printables! to-do lists, monthly/weekly calendars, and test-prep sheets are all great printables to make!)

21. icons (people love free icons! i have a tutorial on how to make your own flat icons right over here.

22. “how to fight boredom over the summer” (share a list of some ways to stay un-bored over the summer!)

23. blog awards (offer a blog awards on your studyblr, and award some of your fave studyblrs!)

24. blog reviews (have people send you asks, and then review their studyblrs and give them kind and honest feedback!)

25. giveaway (if you have the funds and the resources to hold a giveaway, it might be a fun way to connect with more people in the studyblr community! if you can’t afford stationery or something, then try offering a digital prize–like a free icon or logo pack or something!)

welp, that was it! i hope you found this helpful!

xoxo, ainsley