i would have put text on these but i was lazy

So today started out dumb, but this afternoon was AWESOME.

I’m on the porch attempting to construct a railing for the stairs when I notice a weird noise. Like, a kind of droning or buzzing? And it’s getting loud. So I investigate. It’s coming from the neighbor’s yard. 

It is a metric fuckton of bees. I have never seen so many bees in my life. It is a fucking swarm of bees, and I have been reading about bees because I got a wild hair a few weeks back about wanting a hive of my own, but haven’t yet convinced Husbandthing, and there is suddenly a SWARMING HERD OF WILD HONEYBEES IN THE NEIGHBOR’S YARD.

I see postings on the neighborhood page all the time for feral swarm collection, but I also know the guy in the house across the alley just set up a hive. “Hey I think your hive escaped,” I text him. 

He calls me back about three minutes later. Turns out, the swarm he was supposed to get never came; the company went out of business and his order got cancelled, and he’d found out HALF AN HOUR AGO. And he says he’s got a friend who is a professional beekeeper, and he’s going to go pick her up and would it be okay if they came and got this swarm please please please?

So Bee Neighbor and Professional Beekeeper show up and immediately don bee suits. Apparently there is fierce competition for feral swarms, and the swarm in the neighbor’s tree is HUGE, and also twenty feet off the ground, and Bee Neighbor wants them very badly. 

The tree the bees are in is in a yard belonging to neither of us, so we go knock on the door, but there’s no answer. I knock on the house adjacent to it, but that guy’s not home either. Finally, I text the neighbor on the other side of me to see if he’s got contact info for the property owner, who is incredibly shy and in three years has never made eye contact. No luck. 

So…we trespass. We get my extension ladder, and Bee Neighbor climbs the tree while Professional Beekeeper stands on the ladder and walks him through the swarm collection. Turns out, you just shake the swarm into a box, and as long as the queen makes it into the box, the rest of the swarm will eventually follow. Bee Neighbor has never collected a swarm before (this is, in fact, his very first swarm of bees ever) and it takes the two of them the better part of an hour in the tree trying to shake the swarm into the box. 

Bees eventually get into the box. Bee Neighbor gets out of the tree without dying, and Professional Beekeeper examines the swarm and makes pleased noises. At this point, the box is the neighbor’s driveway, and about two thirds of the swarm is still milling around the box all confused. Since the neighbor isn’t home and we can’t contact him, he risks coming and parking right in the middle of a huge cloud of bees. Professional Beekeeper doesn’t want to move the box too far away, because we risk the milling bees losing the queen’s scent and never going into the box. An equidistant point between the current location and Bee Neighbor’s yard is the top of my recycling bin. 

So they put the box of bees on my recycling bin, and I text Husbandthing.

Now I have a box of bees that I am babysitting. They’re being all lazy and dopey and bumbling around. I think I might be in love. Bee Neighbor will pick the box up later tonight and put them in his hive, and then the bees will be MY neighbors too!!

THIS HAS BEEN THE BEST DAY EVER

yoongi really was desperate to debut

he came into bighit as a rapper- an underground rapper from daegu who only performed for crowds of two and made a couple of cents off of his tracks, which came up to not even be enough to buy ramen.

and when he began training at bighit, he didn’t want to burden his parents either so he paid for everything himself by getting a part time job even though he was a busy trainee/student. sometimes he would have to make the choice between eating that day or not having enough money to pay for the bus fare and being forced to walk two hours to get to where he needed to be. he went to school with wealthy students who would get foreign-made cars for their graduation present and he would have to swallow down his jealousy after seeing them get what they wanted so easily. all of this while fighting with depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, and compulsion since he was eighteen years old.

yoongi came into bighit thinking that he was going to be in a hip hop group with namjoon and some of the original members of bts, but even though the group concept changed- he still stuck with it because he desperately wanted a chance to be on stage and create his own music. he learned to dance and even acted as a backdancer/mv extra for a little bit despite originally having the intentions of just being a simple rapper and even when he shattered his shoulders from an accident during his part time job as a delivery boy, he still persevered and worked hard to improve himself and prepare for debut. 

and the only point where he wanted to truly give up was when he thought that the day of his debut was never going to come. like, this man has been through so many physical/mental difficulties and changes- he literally gripped onto the thought of a chance to be on stage to survive and the only point where he wanted to give up was when he thought that he was never going to get that chance. 

I don’t know how to even put this in words and I don’t want to come across as simply using his life story for attention, but yoongi’s life is the ultimate example of hardwork and determination. I have no idea how he was able to handle all of b-free’s demeaning comments so well and I have no idea how people can say that b-free “got it right”.

and just knowing that yoongi still works himself to the bone till this day- working on his music and bringing his equipment wherever he goes ( whether it be during his vacation or on the airplane or in the waiting room) and staying in his studio until the very early morning- and still dealt with battles with his mental health and physical health  after his debut just amazes me because he never lets it show or he never lets it take him aback and somehow we still have the audacity to just label him as “lazy” and “coldhearted”.

yoongi truly is a symbol of persistence and dreams and he really is a role model for me. his lyric “though the beginning may be humble, the end will be prosperous” really did become a reality for him and it only came to him because he never gave up despite all what life threw at him. he motivates me to keep on moving forward in my life and I really do hope that all of you guys see and love him for all that he stands for.

Through the Years (Part 7)

Summary: Through mysterious circumstances, you find yourself exchanging letters with a man who lived 70 years in the past.

Word Count: 1,463

“Through the Years” Masterlist

A/N: Guys, this is one of my favorites. I’m loving it so far!

Originally posted by littlemisssyreid


Steve stopped mid-step, forcing you to move past him and close the door. He was completely solid, unmoving, eyes darting everywhere as he took your semi-empty apartment. You tilted your head and gave him a curious look before you remembered.

He lived here. This was his home.

His eyes teared up again. “It’s—” His voice broke before he gave a breathless laugh, loaded with the sadness inside him. “It’s so different, but it’s still the same.”

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skam fic rec masterpost

so i love reading fic, its like my favorite pass time and that’s all i’ve been doing for the past three months so here’s a huge fic rec list of some fics that i have read and am currently reading and im in love with

big thanks to fic writers! yall are amazing and so important to the fandom <3

a lot of these authors are also on tumblr im sure but i don’t have all the urls so i’m gonna put the ao3 usernames for now. please if you’re on tumblr and would like your url to be in this instead of your ao3 username, just holla at me and ill change it! <3

(ps i’m so sorry i had to shorten up the summaries on some of them so it wouldnt be too long!!)

(pps i update this very frequently as i read so feel free to come back from time to time to look for any new fics!)

make sure you read the trigger warnings for some fics as they can get angsty

okay here we go :) happy reading <3

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So I got bored and checked the weather for both Almaty and St. Petersburg and they're hilariously different so here's an otayuri drabble

Why the hell Yakov was making him practice in this heat, Yuri had no idea. But he hated him for it.

Sure, it wasn’t drastically hot, but 19°C was hot for St. Petersburg, and Yuri could be enjoying the weather if A: it wasn’t so humid, and B: Yakov wasn’t making him practice.

Yuri tipped his head back, the vertebrae in his neck creaking and tense muscles stretching.

“Hey Yakov-”

“Give me a perfect triple axel into a spread eagle and you’re free to go.” The old man told him, drinking from the water bottle handed to him by Lilia.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Yuri said, exasperated. “In this heat?”

“Vitya’s been making Katsuki practice his quads all day, at least I’m not that cruel.” Yakov shrugged.

“Actually, I’m doing this voluntarily.” Yuuri called, taking off and landing a frustratingly perfect quad flip.

“I’ve been trying to make him come home for hours Yakov, this is none of my doing.” Viktor groaned, leaning against the barrier and wiping his brow.

“You said it yourself Vitya,” Yuuri shrugged, pulling off an effortless triple axel into a spread eagle. “I’m going to need to try my best to beat you.”

“I’ve created a monster. I’m doomed.” Viktor sighed defeatedly, gazing at Yuuri.

“And Yurio-” He started, trailing lazily around the rink.

“Don’t call me that.”

“I’m not stopping until I have both records, so I suggest you watch yourself.”

“Getting cocky, now are we, Katsudon?” Yuri asked, cocking a brow.

“Well it’s not the only thing I’m getting.” Yuuri shrugged, taking off into a perfect quad salchow, winking at Viktor as he landed.

“What the fuck have you done to him, Vitkor?” Yuri asked, slightly disgusted at the innuendo.

“I don’t know!” Viktor said exasperatedly.

“Alright, that’s it.” Yakov sighed. “Katsuki, get your ass out of my rink before you kill yourself.”

“I’m not even tired though.” Yuuri sighed, taking off into a quad loop.

“You’re hell bent on destroying my skaters and I can’t have that. Get out before you hurt yourself.” Yakov said firmly.

“But-”

“Yuuri.” Mila started. “We adore you, you’re sweet and talented and everything but with every jump you land, Yakov pushes us that much harder, so please, for the love of god, get the fuck out of the rink.”

“Okay, okay.” Yuuri sighed, finally skating off of the rink, Mila earning an exhausted ‘thank you’ from Viktor, who followed behind Yuuri.

“Yura. Triple axel. Now.” Yakov said firmly, folding his arms.

“Seriously?!”

“Yes. Now.”

“I’d like to see you do it, old man.” Yuri huffed, crossing his arms.

“Just do it, Yuri.” Yuuri called. “Anyway, we’re leaving for today, guys.”

“Finally!” Georgi groaned.

“Please take like, the next week off, you’re making us look bad.” Mila joked.

“No actually do, you’re driving me insane.” Yuri called.

“And Yakov said I couldn’t coach anyone.” Viktor smirked, pecking Yuuri on the cheek.

“Just leave already.” Yakov sighed. “Yuri, triple axel. I’m waiting.”

“For fucks sake, do I have to?”

“Do you want to lose the Olympics?”

“… fine.”

“That’s what I thought.”


Yuri unlocked his dorm, dumping his duffle bag at the door and kicking his shoes off. It’d been a week since Yakov and Lilia’s asshole of a son kicked Yuri out of his mother’s house.

He stalked over the mini fridge in the corner of his room, opening it and pulling out a cold can of fanta, wrenching open the tab and flopping down on his bed.

He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, unlocking it and opening up whatsapp, ignoring the 689 missed texts from the Barcelona GPF group chat and scrolling to Otabek’s contact, selecting video call.

Otabek picked up after around the 3rd ring, and the imagine Yuri was greeted with wasn’t what he expected.

A flushed, tanned, sweaty, muscular chest and a giggling little girl in the background. The camera shakily carried up to Otabek’s face, where it was obvious that he older boy was fast asleep.

“Bekaaaa!” Giggled the little girl, a bony little hand with garish pink nail polish and ratty bracelets pressing down on Otabek’s chest. “Oyanw! Beka! Käne Beka!”

Otabek made a weird noise between a snort and a squawk, eyes snapping open suddenly as he lurched forwards.

“Sälem aytşı Yura!” The little girl giggled.

“Natya…” Otabek murmured groggily. “Nege telefonım bar?” He asked, reaching for the phone and pulling the little girl to the side. “Bul öte jaramsız.” He scolded, blowing a raspberry into the little girl’s cheek.

“Um… is this a bad time?” Yuri asked awkwardly, taking a sip from his soda can. “I can go…”

“Crap! Yura, I forgot. Sorry, I fell asleep and my little sister took my phone-”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” Yuri shrugged. “It’s kinda cute.”

Otabek laughed, ruffling his sister’s messy black hair.

“Sälem Yura!” She grinned, waving at the screen.

“She says hi.” Otabek grinned, translating.

“Hi Natalia.” Yuri smiled, waving back, earning a gap-toothed grin from the little girl.

“Natya, Siz bizden kete alasız ba?” Otabek asked his sister, slipping back into his native tongue.

She nodded, waving at the screen.

“Bayt Yura!” She giggled, running off.

“She’s adorable.” Yuri smiled, sipping from the can again.

“I know.” Otabek grinned.

“Did you teach her to call me that?”

“Call you what?”

“To call me Yura?”

“She’s called you that since she saw you on TV at the Russian Nationals two years ago.”

“Why though?”

“Don’t look at me, she just does.”

Oh, Yuri was look at him.

“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”

“Huh?”

“You’re half naked. At least I think you are… I can only see your chest.”

“I’m wearing underwear if that’s what you’re asking.” Otabek snorted, flashing Yuri a crooked grin.

“Really? No pants?”

“It’s too hot.” Otabek shrugged, reaching for a something offscreen and bringing a glass of water to his lips.

“Seriously? Isn’t it like, 19°C? Kinda pathetic. And that’s coming from a Moscow native.”

“It’s 36°C over here.” Otabek said flatly.

“Damn, your coach makes you practice in that heat?” Yuri asked incredulously.

“Nah. Training’s cancelled. He’s passed out in the porch.”

“Lucky bastard. Yakov’s been forcing me to train.” Yuri huffed.

“Watch your language, Yura. My family is in the vicinity.”

“I’m like 300 miles away they can’t hurt me.”

“My cousin will find you. You know what Aleks is like.”

“And I hope you boys are keeping it PG-13!” Came the call of cousin in the background, causing Otabek to flush slightly.

“ALEKS!”

“I’m just saying! Your mother wouldn’t be too happy if she saw you-”

“Aleks, sabırlılıqtı toqtatıñız Beka!” Came a call.

“Dude I can hear like, your entire family, where are you?”

“In my back yard.” He shrugged, switching the camera so Yuri could get a view of the lush, green garden, and the hammock Otabek was laying in.

“Its huge!” Yuri gasped. “Your family must be loaded!”

“My mother was an Olympic silver medalist. That kind of set us up for quite a while, then I started to send money home whenever I got it.” Otabek shrugged. “Joq, Natya, şlangini tömenge ornatıñız!”

Yuri heard giggling in the background, along with running water. Otabek shifted, the camera shaking a bit as he moved.

“My sister has a hose, I’m going inside.” He explained as a jet of water splashed behind him. “Nope nope nope nope. Not today.”

“Are you afraid of getting wet, Beka?”

“No I just don’t want to get- AH!”

“Are you okay?” Yuri asked, cocking an eyebrow at the maniacal cackling heard in the background.

“Yeah, my sister just got me in the ass while I was running inside.”

“Damn, good aim.”

“Yeah,” He said, camera shaking as he went up the stairs, opening the door to his room and pushing in. “Yura?”

“Still here.”

“I’m gonna need to change but I’m too lazy to disconnect the call, can I just put you against a pillow so you don’t see anything?”

“Sure.” Yuri shrugged, tossing his empty soda can into the trash.

The screen went a dark reddish-brown colour as it was pressed against the pillow, the camera suddenly flipping just as the screen went black.

Yuri could see Otabek pull away, turning around and pulling down the damp, dark grey boxers.

What the hell was Yuri supposed to do?!

The rational thing to would be to tell Otabek 'hey the camera accidentally flipped and I can see your ass and probably dick but I’m not sure’, but for some reason Yuri couldn’t speak.

Otabek turned in the direction of the camera, humming to himself as he stopped up the boxers and tossed them into the laundry hamper at the edge of his room, walking over to a chest of drawers and pulling out a pair of boxers.

Otabek quickly pulled the boxers on, rooting through the drawers and pulling out some shorts and a t-shirt, putting those on too.

He reached for the camera, which suddenly flipped back to front facing as it was being pulled away from the pillow.

“Sorry I took so long- Yura, are you okay?” Otabek asked, suddenly concerned.

“Y-yeah I’m fine. Why are you asking me?” Yuri stammered awkwardly.

“Your face, it’s all… red. Are you sure you’re fine?”

“Yeah yeah I’m fine! I’m just a bit hot and sweaty from practice, I should probably shower.” Yuri said quickly.

“Okay…” Otabek murmured, unconvinced. “If you don’t feel better after the shower, call Viktor or Yuuri or someone like that. And make sure you drink a lot of water. And eat properly. None of that energy bar nonsense-”

“Okay mom, jeez. I’m fine, really.” Yuri said, rolling his eyes.

“Don’t get smart with me, young man.” Otabek said jokingly.

Yuri rolled his eyes, snorting.

“Bye Beka.”

“I’ll see you later, okay? I’ll call you later.”

“I really can’t stop you can I?”

“Nope.”

Yuri laughed, ending the call and flinging his phone onto the other end of the bed and pressing his hands into his face.

Otabek is hung like a fucking horse.

——-

I just winged it ok sorry

Dating Zach Dempsey Would Include...

Originally posted by joeck

Requested to do the ‘dating Zach Dempsey would include’ but with a booknerd fem!reader :)

 

- Getting to see how smart Zach is, everyone thought Zach was under average when it came to smarts but when you start to date him you find out just how smart he is, not in the stereotypical Asian guy can do any math way, he was terrible at math but he was an A+ bio student and knew more about marine life than anyone you’ve ever met.

- Hand holding lots of hand holding, Zach is big on holding hands whether it’s while you’re walking to class or under the table during lunch or even at the library while he stands patiently next to you as you take your time looking at all the books, you don’t mind all the hand holding since your hands are always cold and Zach’s much larger ones are always so warm and soft.

- Going on dates to the aquarium, your favourite place to go to on weekend dates is the aquarium, you like watching all the fish swim around therapeutically and you love watching Zach’s eyes light up as he sees the aquatic animals he’s usually reading and studying about in textbooks.

- Cuddling on cold rainy days, Zach is a massive teddy bear when it comes to cuddles, he loves to be cuddled and also loves to be the cuddler and when it’s a cold rainy day that’s the perfect time to sit on the couch and watch movies while cuddling each other.

Keep reading

- you’re cute when you’re sleepy

a/n : i’m back for the third day in a row!! i once again felt like writing so have some archie andrews drabble. i really enjoyed writing this and have tried to make it as fluffy as possible. thank you for all the support so far, i honesty love writing and it makes me so happy to see people enjoying them! anyway note over, enjoy the cute fluffy archie andrews drabble because he’s an adorable bean who needs to be protected :’-)

word count : 889

{archie andrews x reader}

Originally posted by riverdalegifsdaily

You slung your bag onto the kitchen table as you returned home from your shift at Riverdale book shop. It was a small job that you had after school for a few hours to earn some extra cash but you enjoyed it. Barely anyone came in from school so most of the customers were of the older generation and appreciated the art of literature. The only person who came in from school, with the exception of Archie Andrews visiting his beloved girlfriend, was Jughead Jones. You and Jughead were friends. You always smiled at him whenever you caught each other around school and he would always make an effort to talk to you when you were both in the shop.

“I’m back mom!” you called only to be met with silence. You walked over to the fridge, a pale pink sticky note catching your eye. ‘Emergency business trip, be back tomorrow! love you xox.’  “Typical” you huffed, crumpling up the note and putting it in the bin. Your mother seemed to be constantly swarmed with her work so this sudden trip wasn’t much of a surprise to you. You grabbed a water from the fridge and headed upstairs with your bag, throwing it on the floor and jumping onto your bed. You picked up your phone and started to scroll through your twitter feed when a text popped up.

archiekins : come over

 y/n : but i’m tiredddddd :(

archiekins : it’s literally down the street 

y/n : get your lazy ass up and walk it yourself then :’-)

You let out a giggle at your sass. A few seconds later you heard a knock at the door. You quickly plugged your phone and ran downstairs to answer the door. You pulled it open to reveal your boyfriend, a cheeky smile on his lips. You stepped out the way to let him in and shut the door behind him. “Hey-“ you started before you were engulfed in his arms. You didn’t hesitate to return, stretching on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face in his shoulder. You stood there for a few seconds before pulling away and pecking his lips quickly. “What was that for?” you smiled, a slight blush on your cheeks. 

“Can i not hug my girlfriend?” He asked cheekily, his head tipping to the side slightly like a confused puppy but that what Archie Andrews was; a literal puppy. You hit his chest lightly as your lips stretched into a toothy grin.

 “Hey, I’m not complaining,” you retorted, holding your hands up in defence and earning a chuckle from Archie. You smiled again, taking in your boyfriend’s features. “Come on let’s go upstairs” you smiled, grabbing his hand and making your way up the stairs. You reached your room and went to get your laptop to set up netflix. “So what shall we watch tonight?” You said aimlessly as you entered your password and hitting enter. When Archie didn’t answer you turned around swiftly. “Arch?” You questioned, startling him from a trance he appeared to be in. You met his dark eyes, sending him a confused look.

 “Can we just cuddle?” he pouted, holding his arms out. You felt your heart clench at how adorable he was; you nearly cooed out loud. You gave him a warm smile and walked over to the bed, flopping next to him on the bed. You both settled yourselves on your cream sheets, his head resting on your stomach as you ran your hands lightly through his red hair. A content smile crept onto your face as you stared down at your boyfriend who was staring back up at you with a sleepy gaze. He’d been throwing himself into school lately with his music, football, even his actual schoolwork; so you wasn’t surprised to see him so tired. He need a break. You continued to run your hand through his hair, noticing that it relaxed him. He held your stare for a few more seconds before readjusting his hand on your stomach and closing his eyes. He never failed to make you show how smitten you were over him. Another loving smile was adorned on your face. You tried your hardest to suppress a giggle at how much your boyfriend was currently resembling a puppy. You tried to hide it with a grin but it didn’t work, as you were once again met with his gaze, his drowsiness evident in his dark orbs.

 “What?” he mumbled, an embarrassed smile on his lips and a faint blush on his cheeks.You felt a rosy blush blossom onto your cheeks as you shook your head slightly. You placed your hand lightly on your cheek before running your hand through his hair once again; unmindfully realising that it was relaxing you as much as him. “You’re cute when you’re sleepy” you whispered lovingly. The flush on his cheeks deepened to a fiery crimson and he turned bashful. You took his hand, kissing it softly, and intertwining it with yours. “Go to sleep baby,” you whispered again. He smiled back at you, pulling your hands closer to his chest and cradling them like a teddy bear. You watched him as he drifted into a peaceful slumber and you soon followed; the pair of you falling asleep in the arms of your love.

NHL!Bitty, Part V - Single

The first openly gay NHL player can’t be single in Seattle! 

Since Eric can’t risk telling anyone he has a boyfriend (especially a closeted NHL-er), his only option is to play along as the Schooners go out of their way to find Eric a boyfriend. This wouldn’t be a problem if his well-meaning teammates didn’t keep trying to introduce him to other closeted players, of which there are more than he would have guessed. Now Eric has to survive a night with Kent Parson.

Origin: From Samwell to Seattle | Part I - Hug Check | Part II - Chirping |  Part III - Post-Season | Part IV - RPF 




As the first openly gay player in the NHL, Eric is used to being locker rooms filled with guys bundled up so tight a TSA scanner couldn’t find their genitals; but then there’s stuff like this. Brazen nudity of the ‘I recognize you’re attracted to men, look how cool I am with it’ variety. His new captain leans toward the latter in a way that would make Shitty proud.

“Bittle, we’re going out with a few Aces. You met Kent Parson?”

Mitchell ‘Cricket’ Crocker is pushing 30 and already going gray. He’s also standing in front of Eric’s stall, naked as the day he was born, unconcerned with the fact his junk is at Eric’s eye-level. 

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stilesbansheequeen  asked:

dunno if you still want these, but 3 + sterek would be cute if you do :) either way, awesome list!!

3. “Do you even own a shirt?!”
Shirts Are For Quitters
Also on ao3

Stiles liked college a lot so far, it was freeing in a way that high school had never been and he had scheduled all of his classes to start after 10 so he got to sleep in. His only issue with college was Derek Hale’s allergy to shirts.

Derek lived two rooms down from him, always had his door open, and never wore a shirt. Ever. Stiles was convinced that Derek went to class without a shirt on, though he had no proof of that because they didn’t have any classes together.

They were a part of a pretty tight group on their floor, they all hung out in the common room after class, went to meals together, and went out together on weekends. In their nearly 8 months of friendship Stiles had seen him wearing a proper shirt twice. Derek even wore tight, white tank tops to pretty much ever meal which hardly counted as a shirt at all.

Stiles was walking home from class one sunny Friday in April when he finally snapped. He had spent the entire year so far suppressing boners when Derek was around, but this was just excessive.  

He couldn’t take his eyes off of Derek’s sweaty chest, with his stupid muscles and his stupid chest hair. “Heads up Stilinski!” Derek yelled as the football that Derek and Isaac had been throwing around got passed Derek and almost hit Stiles.

“Do you even own a shirt?!” Stiles said, his voice higher than usual and his cheeks flushed.

Keep reading

Over Our Heads

Title: Over Our Heads

Summary: When Sam leaves you and Dean alone in the bunker to have a movie night all by yourselves, feelings that have been under wraps for years begin to surface. Will it be the start of something new or will it turn into yet another moment you’ve had with the eldest Winchester?

Author: deanssweetheart23

Characters: Dean Winchester x reader, Sam Winchester (mentioned)

Word count: 2482

Warnings: Language, the slightest bit of angst. Pure fluff.

Author’s Notes: This is my submission for @idreamofhazel ‘s and @impala-dreamer ‘s “Sammy Says” writing challenge. First of all, congratulations to both of you amazing human beings because you deserve it. Second of all, thank you so much for letting me participate, I loved writing this.

Also, I’d like to thank my amazing twin @ravengirl94 for putting up with my whining and for helping me figure out what I wanted to do with the ending here. Thank you so, so much, Emily, you’re the absolute best.

Now about this fic: My prompt was “You mind doing a little bit of thinking with your upstairs brain, Dean?” and is included in bold in the text below. (This is written both from the reader’s and Dean’s POV and includes a flashback in italics.)

Originally posted by personal-interest-in-you


Your fingers curled into your palm whilst you sat on Dean’s bed, head rested against the headboard, body just mere inches away from his as the world in the screen before you came to life.

It was one of those rare nights that you had nowhere to be and nothing to do. Miraculously enough, the world seemed to be doing just fine without you and the Winchesters brothers were more than happy to take advantage of all of that tranquility and stagnation while it lasted. Sam, for instance, had already hit the bar for the night -he had said something about needing to spend some time with himself but you were pretty sure that his sudden outing had something to do with that beautiful librarian that had been flirting with him all week- while, much to your surprise, the older Winchester had decided to spend a lazy night in with you, filled with cooking and silly jokes, wonderfully interesting conversations and laughter.

However, as fantastic as the evening had been, it was getting late and you were getting more and more tired.

Stifling a yawn, you turned to see Dean already staring at you, green eyes bright and wide in the dim light of the bedroom.

“What?” you asked.

He smiled that half-smile of his that always caused your heart to flutter unevenly.

“C’mere.” He whispered, arm draping over your shoulder to pull you to him.

You opened your mouth to object but the look on his face, vulnerable and intense, pierced through your very soul and you leaned against him, letting his warmth seep into your skin and his scent, so utterly and uniquely Dean, to overwhelm your senses, comfortably resting your head on the crook of his neck.

“Better now?”

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Late Dinner

Originally posted by bwiseoks

MATURE

Yoongi spends the majority of his time cooped up in his studio. He sleeps there as often as he can get away with, he eats most of his meals there, he hangs most of his clothes there. Most of your dates tend to take place in or very near his studio. You get takeout and watch anime on his laptop or you go to the café down the street.

And, although you technically live together, most of the time you feel as if you live alone.

But most of the time, you don’t particularly mind it. It’s nice to have your space while Yoongi has his. You can spread out your things in the living room and blare music while you work or you can cover the bed in papers as you pretend to get work done instead of watching TV.  Whatever work you need to get done at home, you can get it done without worrying about disturbing him or having him disturb you.

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Suga Daddy: Part Two

Suga Daddy: Part 2

Word count: 6.9k

Genre: smut

Okay, I’m glad that some people liked this because I want to turn this into a series. This is pretty dirty so be warned. Anyway, on to the next part :)

part one


You were over at Taehyung’s, on the couch with him and Jimin watching a movie. Sadly, you weren’t paying too much attention to it because tomorrow you were trying out for a seniors dance showcase. It was a big deal for seniors, it was what they worked for all four years. This would be what they would perform for tons of people and entertainment scouters. Your school was known for helping dancers get jobs after this showcase at the end of the year.

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Lying Is The Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off (Sebastian Stan x Reader) Pt. 6

A/N: yaaay! chap 6 is finally here and the big moment finally happens you guys! *throws table* i always felt like seb would do some spontaneous stuff like this in this situation! I hope you guys like it! ENJOY! - Delilah

Warnings: None. 

Originally posted by vibraniumdoll


Sebastian: What are you wearing? ;)

You snickered at your phone as you walked through the large building. Since the grand discovery a couple weeks ago, you both have been completely honest with each other. No lies, no secrets, just the absolute truth.

You learned quite a bit about Sebastian; you both were similar in so many ways. You both were devoted pizza lovers. This conversation ended with Sebastian sending you a pizza all the way from Melbourne (where he was filming at the time) and made sure you got you and his’ favorite topping: pineapple and pepperoni. He made sure to tell the pizzeria to place the toppings in a heart shape, which you found absolutely adorable.

 Sebastian was also highly obsessed with Sharon Stone, which led to you sending him a body pillow with her body printed on it. He practically imploded when he un-boxed it the day he got it. You made sure he sent you pictures of it for your lock screen.

 Also, you found that Sebastian and you loved Star Wars with a burning passion. This led to a giant craze where you both sent each other merchandise of your favorite characters. Your favorite character was Leia Organa -she took absolutely no shit from anyone and was the most important female protagonist in a film full of males. Sebastian loved Finn -he was an unlikely man who was able to save lives despite his harsh upbringing. He also had a huge man crush on him. You both may or may not have spent your free time reading the scripts together for fun. 

You were currently leaving your latest internship job. You were tired, but still grateful for the opportunities you were given. You knew to never give up, no matter what life threw at you. You texted Sebastian back a snarky little reply. 

Me:  khakis and crocs. :)

Sebastian: ugh, i love it. are you wearing a fanny pack, too? that’s such a turn on. 

You giggled as you typed out your reply. He was such a little dork and you loved it. 

Me: oh yeah. my hair’s in those little leia buns as well. i’m a hot mess. 

Sebastian: i think you look lovely. that jacket brings your eye color. :)

You froze.

What?

You furrowed your eyebrows, your eyes narrowing in suspicion as you peered around the crowd of people around you. There was no way he could see you from your phone, so what was he on about? 

Me: how did you know i was wearing a jacket? are you having someone follow me around?  >:|

He didn’t reply right away, in fact, your phone stayed silent. You knew Sebastian wouldn’t have someone spy on you, that was a ridiculous thought and all, but you couldn’t help the nagging feeling in your tummy that someone’s eyes were on you. 

You picked up your pace, eyeing every single person that walked by you with suspicion. You were almost to the entrance when your phone buzzed again, the notification chime blared loudly from the speakers. 

Sebastian: and that skirt! man, your legs are amazing!

Now you were getting a bit annoyed. How on earth did he know you were wearing a skirt? That was impossible, as he’s on the other side of the earth at the moment. 

Me: haha. very funny, seb. tell your buddy to stop following me or i’ll use my pepper spray. 

You were instantly reminded of your car, which was waiting for you in front of the building. You had put enough money in the meter for an hour and you really needed to get going. 

You power walked outside of the building, hugging your purse to your body. Your eyes were on everyone and everything that was in your sight. You were highly paranoid person all together and Sebastian being a little shit wasn’t helping at all. 

You’d get him back for this! 

You spotted your car, just a few steps away. You let out a sigh of relief as you got closer and closer to your vehicle. You’d give him a call shortly after you got settled in and demand answers. How did he figure out your outfit? Maybe he was just a lucky guesser?

As soon as you made it within a foot of your car, you immediately stopped in your tracks. Your purse you had clutched in your arms, slid from your shoulder fell to the ground with a thud. 

“Hey, kiddo,” The man spoke with a sheepish smile. One you had only seen from a computer or phone, never in person until now. He held up a bouquet of roses, along with a pizza box in his other hand. 

You covered your mouth with your hand as you stared at a very lively Sebastian, leaning against the side of your car. 

“I guess I’ve got some explaining to do, huh?” 


-Fin! 

Tag list of super awesome people! 

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I respect the opinion of my elders, but just an open query about the charges brought against my generation:

For not working hard enough: where is the evidence. When we were younger you told us you started from a small job and climbed your way to the top. When we are flipping burgers it’s because we didn’t apply ourselves. When you did it, it was shouldering the future by suffering in the present. When we ask for the money to buy bread, it is shameful. When others went on strike in the name of labor conditions, it was heroic. When we ask for more, we never deserve it. So how did you get here? Did you never sit up and demand the world give you what was rightfully yours? How hard working is hard enough?

We are illerate, use slang instead of language, shun poetry: did I just imagine the “rad” bloom of the 70’s? Is it because you can’t catch our tongues in your hands? Is it because our poetry is now published beyond books, beyond the control of one voice, beyond you? That our language doesn’t need your approval to evolve? When you drew political pictures of us asking how to turn a book on, you laughed at our ignorance. When the tables turned, when we were shown to be the most literate and well-read generation on record, you scratched the mirror. You said it was our lazy nature. A body rotting. Because we read trash, or we read into things, or we write loudly and it bothers you. Why does it bother you?

School is too easy: What was it like going to school without being worried about a shooting? Did you ever cower like we have, like I did, like our friends, crying muffled in your hands because you love your parents and now have no time to tell them? What was it like, dear, in a world where my standardized testing scores would have broken your curve and I didn’t even get perfect. What part is the easy part. Is it the highest recorded level of anxiety? Is it the rising teenage suicide rates? Is it the eating disorders, body dismorphia, self harm, self destruction? Tell me, have you seen - there’s a show called “Are you Smarter Than A 5th Grader.” It’s very funny. In it, bright young kids show adults that what we’re learning didn’t even exist in common knowledge while they were in school. Tell me. If you were up against our 5th grade curriculum, who would win? No, I’m sure you’re fine. You learned it all in high school.

We want too many free things: What was it like to want for nothing? What was it like to have a certainty that hard work leads to a bright future. What was it like imagining being rich instead of imagining just being rich enough to eat good food. What was it like, not being worried that a broken leg would cost you an entire apartment? Do you know they hate us so much they would rather see us die than bring down the price of an EpiPen. And since I know you love the idea of us abusing the system, tell me, where do I go to expose the lie about my life-threatening allergy? How do I fake it, because I’d like to opt out of it, and while I’m at it my mental illness, and while I’m at it can you take my chronic pain please. And since I know that the answer is to go to school and get a degree so I can be worthy of not dying, just another question: are you aware fifty thousand dollars a year is equivalent to a house. I could buy a house instead of going to college. Since you’re good at this, while we’re talking, I have two siblings. Which of the three of us gets the money? Go on. Look at us. Choose. Who goes hungry?

We’re entitled: yes, please, give me a deed, give me land, give me better than winning the lottery. What I’m entitled to is life, liberty and the pursuit of profit, am I not? So where are any of the above? Where did the jobs go? Why do you jail people for small crimes but free the criminals? And my life? This life? I end where my body begins, I am cut off from the nation’s decisions about what I can put in or take out of me. And me? I’m safe because I’m white-passing. Don’t the bodies pile up? Aren’t we entitled to justice? Aren’t we entitled to an answer? A response from the government? More than just speeches about how riots won’t solve things? Aren’t we entitled to a fair trial? To freedom of speech? Was it not our common fathers who fought for these things?

We’re lazy: Where? Who has the money? I’ve been working since I was 12, am I just an anomaly? Or do you just ignore those who don’t fit your story? All those student-run engineering projects that are changing history. All those protests. The art world, shifting. All these adults who demand more - do they count as lazy or as entitled? What were you doing at our age? Did it really look all that different?

We don’t listen to real music, don’t like real art, are loud, are too busy partying: We changed and you didn’t keep up. Is that’s what’s so startling?

We are sucked up into the Internet, wouldn’t drop the phone if the apocalypse was happening: my phone has my family on the other end of it. Do you not save pictures from a burning building? Do you really care so little for others you’d stick to the old ways entirely instead of texting? Oh sure, yes, a letter is pretty, I love them. But just asking for a friend: What do I do in an emergency with only a pencil. And I don’t mean to downsize the problem because I mean it’s not like you took Polaroids of your friends at sunset - right? - and it’s definitely wrong of us to want memories of a really nice night, but, just curious, did you post that opinion on the Internet? Was seeing others on the Web what made you upset? Maybe - this is just a crazy idea that popped up into my head - you should go take a walk, go outside, disconnect.

We do everything different: Yes. Because we were raised on the cusp of the next great Renaissance. We are in somewhere new, a galaxy of expansion that doesn’t rely on you. That knows more than you do. That doesn’t function the way you expect it to. How rose-colored is the past to you? The place where you erase AIDS and drug abuse in an effort to tell us we are a terrible youth. Where you don’t talk about the marches that happened around you. How painted do you picture it, simply because you had to physically look in a book to learn something new? How do you turn your eyes to a world where war sits on our necks, our earth melts, our populations swell, our people starve, and we are powerless in it all - and say, “It’s your fault.”

It’s our fault. The housing market, somehow related to our obsessive need for safe spaces, I’m sure, because our dreams no longer lie in yards but rather something big enough for at least a bed, and hopefully with tasteful curtains, and you have no idea what a safe space is. The certain failure of the two-party political system, maybe somehow due to our political correctness - we are, after all, rude enough to never open doors for old ladies or just let you be racist - how we controlled the media, how our desires drove this. Our request for trigger warnings and correct pronouns is a burden, and I see that now, because our special snowflake syndrome really does hurt you as a person; while your ongoing use of torture in corrective therapy is only a problem if you’re actually looking. You’re so right about so many things. When you beat us to correct us, it’s your child and it’s your right; when it’s our bodies we ask to have rights over - well, what did we expect? It’s our fault. The crushing debt, the companies that own our government, the privatization of prisons, the unrightful searches, the human trafficking and abuse of sex workers, the gun violence, the pharmaceutical industries which control our doctor’s choices, the climate change you only just started to admit is happening, the extinction of species worldwide - we are responsible for both pollution and poaching, the lead in our water, the death in our streets. So what do you get from it? From dismissing us? From quitting on us before the race begins? From forgetting who exactly raised us kids?

Now, I was told that the problem is that we too often point to bigotry. That we hide behind pointing out your sexist comments instead of realizing the truth your words wrought. I was told we are so focused on our victories, of a world that rallied for marriage equality, for gender expression, for the safety of survivors, for a healing nation - we call out instead of calling on. So I’m calling on you, Generation X kids. Here’s your free one. No bigotry spoken of. So speak. Explain what exactly you mean.

I get it. We asked for a country. The land is borrowed from your children, they tell me.

Now why are you so afraid when we show up and start collecting?

i spent too much time on this– so I’ve been toying with the idea of an RPG!AU! Despite the fact that I know next to nothing about D&D or fantasy/RPG settings… (fhkdjs blame my nerris muse for this…) The colours are in no way final, either. Preston gave me a hell of a time…

They’re all older as well! Anywhere from mid-late teens/early-20s. I have most of the cast’s classes and alignments sorted out; I would’ve started out with the main 3, but Max and Nikki are harder for me to nail a design for.  Hit me up if you’ve got some thoughts on this or would like to know about the other characters before I draw them!

I’ll put all my current headcanons for these 3 under the cut ↓ ↓ ↓ (Classes are loosely based on the many from D&D, but I wanted to keep things flexible so m(_ _)m) 

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Going with Harry to tape the BBC Radio 1 interview with Grimmy (Fluffy af)

Or when you have to keep secret that you filmed a video question for Harry…

“Nervous?” you ask before taking a large bite of toast with butter and jam.

“It’s just a normal chat with Nick,” he wipes the crumbs from your lip before you can swat his hand away, adding, “I’m just nervous for it to air.”

“Yeah, too bad we can’t be on the beach with Nicky when that happens,” you smirk from your perch on one of the tall stools by the breakfast bar.

Harry smacks your thigh lightly from his seat next to you, nearly spitting out his tea. “You know he hates when you call him that,” he tilts his head to the side as his body shakes silently with laughter.

“‘S’why I call ‘im that,” you say with a mouthful of jam.

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*NEW* Pretty Little Liars Endgame (Alternative)

Whilst I still stand by my first endgame theory, today I want to explore an alternative way the endgame could potentially unfold. 


One day at Radley, Charlotte accidentally pushed Marion Cavanaugh off the roof. Jessica, who was on the board at Radley, agrees to help her niece Charlotte by ruling Marion’s death a suicide, but internally within Radley, Charlotte blamed Bethany for it. Charlotte reversed the roles when telling her story to the liars in 610 so that they would feel sorry for her. 


Jessica feels bad that an innocent patient, Bethany, was blamed for something her niece did so she signs Bethany out of Radley to adopt and ride a horse. Considering she helped Charlotte get away with it, it is the absolute least Jessica can do. But Bethany isn’t appreciative of these sympathetic gifts because she knows that Jessica is having an affair with her father. Jessica asks Bethany to call her “aunt Jessie” as a way of saying “I’m not having an affair with your father, I’m just a long lost aunt hence I’ve been around your father lately!” Bethany throws a tantrum and buckets after Jessica’s lies. “Is it like mother like daughter?” and “can I trust anyone in that family?” says Bethany in her recordings. Bethany’s hatred is building towards two dead characters, ‘mother and daughter’ Charlotte and Jessica. (Even young Charles thought they were a part of the DiLaurentis family for quite some time.)


After Charles’ funeral, Charlotte’s doctors let her go, out of belief that trapping a transgender patient in a mental asylum isn’t doing any good. And, she’s apparently been making progress… again, Bethany was blamed for Charlotte’s fatal mistake. She never returned to Radley as Charlotte: she was free to walk the streets of Rosewood. She created the new alias CeCe Drake, after having found out about her birth mother Mary Drake (although having still never met her). CeCe attended college and shared a roommate, explaining how she knew everyone at Eric Kahn’s party and perhaps how she slipped into the Rosewood High yearbook. This also explains why Charlotte needed a visitors pass to see Mona in Radley, as she was no longer a patient that can sneak down the hall. 


During college, CeCe and Noel happened to be at the same frat party. Noel accidentally pushed a girl down the stairs, but of course the bystander ex-Radley patient gets the blame for it. As a result, Charlotte is kicked out of college for something Noel did. Hence Noel helped Charlotte in the dollhouse; he felt he owed something to Charlotte. He took something from her that she worked extra hard for. 


While CeCe was off beginning her new life in Rosewood (still before ‘that night’), Bethany was still in Radley, taking medication that should have Charlotte’s name on it, drowning in her own drool. That’s sure to drive her crazy. 


“That night”, Bethany escaped with the intent of killing Charlotte as revenge for ruining her life. Jessica, who was Bethany’s caretaker at Radley, got a call that night from Radley workers informing her that Bethany has escaped. “I’m very worried, please send someone”, said Jessica, knowing how much Bethany hates her and her niece. A war was brewing. Charlotte wanted to hurt Bethany before Bethany harms anyone. Charlotte accidentally hit Ali instead of Bethany, but thankfully Mrs. Grunwald came to Ali’s rescue. “I swear I thought it was Bethany, mum” cried Charlotte.


Mona hit Bethany with a shovel thinking she was hitting Ali; she hated Ali that much. The purpose of a psychic saving Ali was because only a psychic could know to come back to Rosewood and save another person: Bethany Young. Mrs Grunwald sensed more danger and went and saved Bethany. I don’t like supernatural elements as much as the next person, but it exists, and we have to acknowledge it and use it.

Notice how the person saving Ali/Bethany is different in the two instances. TWO people were pulled out of the dirt. (Red sleeve vs no sleeve.)

Bethany Young is alive. Bethany Young is Uber A and AD, which stands for After Death. Whilst there have been many deaths over the seasons, Bethany’s “death” was THE death that started it all and so it’s very iconic for her to go by AD. We know AD has to be someone who has access to medical records, as they leaked Yvonne’s abortion and Veronica’s sickness. Who better than someone who successfully faked her death? 

Bethany couldn’t stand the idea of that bitch Charlotte getting 5 years treatment and then getting to go home with her family, happily ever after. As revenge, Bethany killed Charlotte the exact same way that Charlotte killed Marion and blamed her for it: Charlotte was pushed off a building (bell-tower). 


Here is our clue from the writers that we should be looking at Bethany. In the (FAKE) flashback we saw of Bethany, she was wearing this red sweater.

Yet we saw someone in an awfully similar red sweater walk into the bell-tower the very night Charlotte was killed: Bethany? Again, even though it was a fake flashback and that red sweater doesn’t technically exist, it is the writers foreshadowing. 

And if it wasn’t already clear, Bethany killed Jessica, too… the affair that could’ve teared apart her family forever (Bethany might have become related to Charlotte, that thought scared Bethany!) and Jessica also helped Charlotte get away with pushing Marion. Jessica had to go. Season 5A made it extremely easy to guess that Melissa and/or Peter killed Jessica with Peter’s drugs, and hence they lied about where they were the night she was killed. Yet, here we are in 7A, and the writers still haven’t confirmed Melissa and Peter’s involvement. For that reason, I believe the answer is elsewhere. If it really was Melissa and Peter, that could’ve been confirmed years ago. If it really was Melissa and/or Peter, why is it being extended into season 7B? Because there’s more to the story. It was Bethany.


Bethany/AD chooses to frame Melissa for Charlotte’s murder. Out of all people in Rosewood, why did the killer chose Melissa? Because Melissa has a motive that would make sense in front of a jury: Charlotte sent Wren the video of Melissa confessing to burying Bethany the actual person in the grave, which lead to Wren breaking up with her. Melissa’s relationship crumbled, combined with the simple fact that Charlotte is in possession of a video that could destroy Melissa’s reputation forever, is why Bethany decided Melissa is the perfect candidate to frame: she would have a motive to want Charlotte dead. 


Bethany stole Melissa’s suitcase, broke the handle and bashed Charlotte’s head with it. She then put the suitcase back before Melissa notices it’s missing… or did she? Whilst unpacking her clothes, Melissa says in 613 “I know I had more clothes in here”. Evidently Melissa’s suitcase was tampered with. 

Melissa was the person sending unsigned, emoji texts throughout 6B. She was being harassed by Bethany, that if she doesn’t admit to killing Charlotte or find another killer before the end of the election night, her confession video will be shared with everyone. 

How did Bethany even get her hands on this video? From Wren. As we know, Charlotte sent the video to Wren so clearly Wren is in possession of this video. The reason he instantly ended his relationship with Melissa is because Bethany is his sister and he was mad that Melissa potentially killed his sister and didn’t say anything. Of course, she’s alive now, but what a big secret that is to keep.

As Emily stated in 617 after being attacked, “there’s definitely 2 people after us”. Bethany wanted Emily to touch the suitcase handle (why not have a second person to frame?) whilst Melissa was the one trying to get it back to save herself.


Marlene has said there is one question she can’t wait to answer, but she can’t tell us what this question is because the question itself is a spoiler. That question is precisely “who is actually in the grave?“ The answer is one that makes total sense: Alison’s twin. This also explains how the Jane Doe was identified as Alison in the first place: similar DNA.

They foreshadowed this in 513 by showing a dead Alison in a grave. This was the writers telling us that YES, despite all complications, there really is an Alison in the grave. We already have twins; Mary and Jessica. However, scientifically, twins CAN give birth to twins. So, it is possible to have another set of twins involved in the endgame. Also, Marlene has explicitly said that “we won’t see Courtney”. We may never actually find out the name of Ali’s twin. It doesn’t matter. They aren’t alive, they aren’t A like in the books. We will never see them. They are DEAD. 

It’s also possible that the person in the grave is a random girl we’ve never met before - probably one of the many new cast members joining the finale.


This is tricky to answer for 2 reasons:

- At the time of this Tweet, Marlene knew there will be a FAKE flashback involving Bethany in 610. Ignore that flashback COMPLETELY. It never happened. That was Charlotte retelling a story of lies.

- There is before the incident regarding her face,

- There is after the incident regarding her face.

What incident?

One day whilst on temporary release, Bethany was with Jenna in Jenna’s garage. Alison and her friends threw fireworks inside and as a result, Jenna was blinded and Bethany was burnt. This is how the show is coming full circle as we are circling right back to the stories of season 1. Bethany hates Ali and the girls for the permanent damage she has suffered. 

Alison blamed Toby for ‘The Jenna/Bethany Thing’ which Bethany assumes means that Toby was involved, too. Hence, in a true moment of anger right after her name was announced to the public on television, Bethany blew up Toby’s house. 

Note that Bethany never shows her face in her pictures. This is not laziness by any means, she is actually a brilliant artist.

So whilst Bethany is framing Melissa for Charlotte’s murder, she is harassing the Liars over it too because they ruined her life.

Bethany/AD is walking around Rosewood in masks. Her face is deformed, on top of the fact that she’s supposed to be dead. She cannot show her face. Further, 6A revealed that Bethany Young shared a room in Radley with Leslie Stone. That same season we saw Leslie with boxes of glasses identical to those that AD has been wearing. Leslie knows Bethany is alive and she was trying to locate her long lost friend - she found her!

Bethany shot Spencer as not only revenge for burning her (The Jenna/Bethany Thing), but for being the one to bash her over the head that night. Of course, Spencer didn’t actually do it (Mona did) but since everyone in Rosewood thought it was Spencer, Bethany later latched on to this popular belief. (Note: if Alison survived a rock to the head, Bethany survived a bashing to the head, too. Heightened reality, unfortunately.) 

This message was from Bethany: 

Again, note the blacked face.

This Black Veil person from 401 was Bethany. CeCe’s story of who this person was, revolved around Sara Harvey pulling off a veil to reveal her face, but in reality, there is a (BURNT) Alison mask underneath that veil. CeCe’s version couldn’t be true as Sara never had a mask when she entered the limo. Sara never saw the girls as dolls - Sara was just Charlotte’s decoy, so it makes no sense for Sara to have been playing dolly earlier… This is Uber A.

Why would Sara Harvey care about Bethany Young? She doesn’t. Below is Bethany sending flowers to her family who she misses. She wants to tell them she’s alive and well! But first she wants to finish off this game and punish the people who hurt her.

Despite the above Tweet being from 2013, she is going to follow through with that in these final episodes because:

I know what you’re probably thinking… Bethany being Uber A is not satisfying. To me, it is! It goes right back to season 1 as it revolves around ‘that night’. The person that suffered that night in the pilot, is back for revenge! 

I could do a part 2 for this theory to explain who is Bethany. Who are her parents? Is she a DiLaurentis? Is the “aunt Jessie” thing supposed to be taken literally - is she a Drake? Is she someone’s twin? Is Melissa Bethany? Is Sara Harvey Bethany (I hope not, but very possible)? Is Bethany Charlotte’s twin who also transitioned, hence Jason thought he saw CeCe that night (but really it was Bethany, like Charlotte says)? I believe we are dealing with Bethany - but who is Bethany, is for another day. I do NOT believe for a split second they will make Uber A be a person we’ve never met before. That’s pathetic.

When the Bethany-ideas came flooding to me, I googled ‘Bethany is Uber A’ to see the fan consensus on this topic and the first result was an amazing post by @the-outlast. Whilst we have some largely contrasting opinions on some aspects, shoutout to this person for a couple pieces of evidence I used to explain our belief that Bethany is alive :)

anonymous asked:

But what about Derek who is afraid of fireworks and so he wears those noise canceling headphones that you see kids wear when they watch fireworks and derek is embarrassed about them and he says he'll just stay home and that fireworks arent that cool anyway, he has things he needs to do (pt1)

but Stiles can tell something is up so he sticks around until everyone has left to go watch them and he asks Derek and after a few minutes of trying to lie about it Derek’s shoulders slump and he shows them to Stiles and his cheeks are pink with embarrassment as he explains that they don’t cancel the noise but it helps to mute it and it works well enough for him to be able to enjoy watching the fireworks.

Stiles makes a noise of understanding and walks over to Derek to take the headphones out of his hand and he gently fits them over Derek’s ears. Stiles then goes on to explain that Derek has nothing to be embarrassed about, that he grew up watching the fireworks with his dad and the people from the station and he knew plenty of hard ass cops who after retiring would wear them and if anyone tries to tease Derek he’ll beat them up. Then there’s forehead kisses and a beautiful night of fireworks.

You know what I love about this (except everything)??? Is that sometime between meeting and this beautiful firework headcanon, Derek got comfortable enough around Stiles to the point where instead of barking at him to get out or showing him the headphones and growling, daring Stiles to say anything, he is shy. Like, I want to think about this. I want to think about Derek Hale and how he puts up a hundred walls, each wall usually made of something unpleasant and standoffish because it’s the only way he knows how to build walls after Kate. 

I want to think about how relieved Derek is, how secretly happy, when Stiles never takes any of his shit and how, when Derek threatens to bite, Stiles is the only one who laughs and bares his neck with a “come on then, sourwolf”, daring him. I want to think about how if anyone else had thought to stick around, Derek is positive he would have managed to scare them - or at the very least anger them - into going away. Not Stiles though, never Stiles. Even when Derek does manage to piss Stiles off enough to get him to leave, he always comes back. And it gets to the point where Derek starts getting hopeful, starts getting lazy in his plan to never let anyone touch his heart again (barring Cora, of course) and so, when Stiles confronts him about the headphones and he finds himself blushing instead of yelling it’s a big deal. 

Derek was always the cool kid when he was younger and when he got embarrassed it was usually only because Laura was teasing him about his stash of history magazines that he always hid under his bed whenever he invited Paige over, or the way he’d sing songs from Aladdin in the shower. There were always things he was insecure about - Kate, most of all, played on them - but even during his first kiss, Derek was confident and cocky. He liked confident and cocky, he still did. 

But when he first met Stiles, something faltered. At first, he didn’t notice it, too busy hating Stiles, but as he got to know him and after everything they went through together, Derek started to notice. Notice the way his palms sweated when Stiles smiled at him from across a room, or the nervous tick of his heart when Stiles casually talked about sex and the way he gently held both Allison and Erica’s hair the first time they had a pack night out and no one expected the punch Lydia’s wolfsbane vodka was going to pack.  

After five years, Derek does feel himself softening around the pack but not in the same way he does with Stiles. All Stiles has to do is wink at him these days and instead of scowling, Derek feels a horrible, familiar jolt. The jolt he used to get watching Paige play in band, the same jolt he used to get whenever Kate would text. It makes him excited and uneasy at the same time and even though he knows Stiles is not Kate, he could still be Paige. He could still die. 

And yet, he can’t help being drawn in because he’s not fifteen anymore and neither is Stiles. Stiles is strong - stronger than anyone gives him credit for - and when danger threatens to kick Derek’s ass, he is always there with his bat and two arms ready to drag him across whatever floor Derek always manages to find himself on after every attack. Just for once, can you NOT do the martyr thing, dude? Lucky for you I had a plan G, huh? Bet you’re not laughing at it now.

And it’s this - this transition from I’m going to rip your throat out to shyly showing Stiles his headphones, headphones he’s actually embarrassed about where he never would have been as a kid - that gets me the most. That when Stiles (half-jokingly) tells Derek he’ll beat up anyone who teases him, Derek doesn’t roll his eyes but instead tentatively offers Stiles his hand and smiles, ducking his head, feeling safe and loved in a way he hasn’t since Laura died.