i'm going to go and get nothing done by watching tv for a few hours

Listen up folks...

I’m not gonna talk about what sparked this rant. It doesn’t matter. What does matter is what I’m about to say.

I’m freaking done with the hate.

This SPN Family is supposed to be encouraging, accepting, we’re supposed to at least try to get along. Apparently that’s too hard. Now I could rant for hours about how some people in the SPN Family are treating eachother, but that’s for another time. This rant is going to be about one thing, the hate that the wives of the two leaders of this SPN Family receive. For this post I’m going to focus on one of the wives in particular…Danneel Ackles.

Once again as the Ackles family was nice enough to share parts of their life with us, people decide to be douchebags. This time Jensen isn’t happy with his life because he isn’t smiling in the photo of him & JJ. Also apparently comparing his kids to the comedy & tragedy is just a terrible thing to do. Oh, did you also hear that the twins might not be his because he said “my” twins instead of “our” twins. This is all Danneel’s fault too because she makes Jensen hate his life.

She can’t do anything right in the eyes of some people and it’s pissing me off. What did she do to cause so much hate? Now is the part when I ramble on about all she’s done…

She told her husband to go to a convention for the fans a few days after giving birth to twins.

Jensen told the story about finding out about the twins…JJ gave him a letter about it when he arrived at the airport…meaning he couldn’t be at the doctor appoint. How many doctor appointments do you think he had to miss because of filming?

She uses her “celebrity” to bring awareness to different events and situations going on in the world. I didn’t know about the Yulin dog festival until she talked about it. She does different work for a variety of charities, freaking google it if you don’t believe it.

Her husband is in a different country for the majority of the year while she stays back home in Austin. Have you ever had your husband away for a long period of time? Cause I have. It sucks. I complained about it on social media ALL THE TIME, but she never does.

She was a working woman in Hollywood. IMDb that shit. She was a steady worker in Hollywood however she slowed down/stopped when they had JJ.

Think of all the times she’s been out with her husband, cause that’s what Jensen is, he’s not “omg Jensen Ackles TV star”, he’s Jensen, the pain in the butt who forgot to take out the trash or forgot to grab the milk when he ran to the stores. Think about how many times she’s probably been out with him & had to deal with people coming up to talk to him. Now think about how many times this has happened & people have ignored her existence or used her as nothing more then a photo taker. Fans don’t mean too, but that shit probably happens more often then you think. I would get so sick of that.

Did I forget to mention how Jensen freaking lights up whenever someone brings up Danneel? CAUSE I WITNESSED IT IN PERSON A FEW WEEKS AGO & HE LEGIT LOOKS LIKE A TEENAGER IN LOVE WHEN SOMEONE TALKS ABOUT HER!

But no.

Apparently we’re supposed to hate her just cause.

Now is when the “haters” start to go, “you just like her because of who she’s married to.”

No haters.

No.

I knew about Danneel before I knew about Jensen. I know Danneel from One Tree Hill but I started to admire her when she hosted Maxim’s Hot 100 in 2009. She was the really pretty model/actress that I looked up to because she was funny & pretty. It wasn’t until I started watching Supernatural in 2015 that I had the “holy cow they’re married to each other” moment.

So.

To sum up this rant; you don’t have to like Danneel, just don’t be a dick. If you admire Jensen as a human, don’t disrespect his wife or his family.

Basically if you wouldn’t go up to a person & say it to their face, don’t say it. Plus why bother wasting your time hating something when you could spend your time on something you love?

End rant.

Down For This

Someone come throw a bible at me

Prompt: There really wasn’t none oops–
Group: Shinee
Member: Lee Taemin/Taemin
Rating: NC-17 honestly
Word Count: 6,354

Warnings: NSFW and some very bad porn I’m so rry

Originally posted by byulrooyah

Being stressed was not in your vocab you thought to yourself, watching your students go home. You packed up, phone in hand to head home and relax. Tomorrow was your samba classes and you were going to need everything in your power to not be upset about teaching these dancers by yourself. You were soon in your car blasting the latest jam music while you drove back to your flat.

You hope to all the gods and back that you’ll be blessed with a helper soon.

Or you were going to go crazy.

Which would be bad because who has bail money for your crazy ass?

You made it home soon to do the normal. Feed yourself then watch a bit of tv. Make sure your friend didn’t visit and steal some outfits. Feed the occasional stray cat then take your slow bath with relaxing candles and the love of your life (a glass of wine). You felt that you relaxed more tonight. Some sudden unknown peace and calm filling you from the balls of your feet to the nerves in your scalp. Tomorrow is going to be a good day you think to yourself as you tuck yourself in. You just knew that it was for some reason and fell asleep. Constant blurs of colors moving in synchronization are your dreams of this night rather than the black nothing that consists of a stressful day.

Keep reading

Unfaithful (Sami Zayn X Reader X Finn Bálor)

In case anyone is curious about the timeline here:

Seeds… Unfaithful… Decision Time

Originally posted by prowrestlingnow

Originally posted by thearchitectwwe

“We’re about to make a mistake.”

“I know.” And Sami kisses you.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Prompt: Ian asking Mickey about the lesbian porn

// so yeah this went on a tangent because I did backstory. but I hope it’s ok? //

Mickey had realised he was gay around the age he was expected to become obsessed with porn.

Since he was about ten, his father had begun tossing magazines at him, magazines with page after page of skinny girls with soft hips, huge tits and even bigger asses. His dad had just said ‘enjoy.’ Mickey didn’t know what he was supposed to enjoy about these magazines, though.

A couple of years later, and it clicked. His brother - unintentionally - showed him. So Mickey went back to his room and pulled one of the crumpled issues out of his drawer. He opened it randomly and saw a skinny, pale girl with long dark hair and bangs. Mickey turned the page, shuddering. The picture reminded of him too much of Mandy. Then he found a girl with masses of blonde curls and pink lips that smiled teasingly. And he tried. He really did. He stuck his hand in his pants and stared in earnest at the picture. Nothing. He frowned. It had to be the girl. Maybe blonde wasn’t his type. The next page housed a smaller, hispanic girl. He tried again and still, nothing.

Within an hour, he’d exhausted the magazine, plus two others. Mickey threw the third time unlucky across the room and buried his head in his pillow. What the fuck was wrong with him?

-

A year or so later, it was Mandy’s thirteenth birthday. Like with any Milkovich birthday, the family had bought - well, mostly stolen - gifts. Mandy was their little sister and the only girl, though, so Mickey and his brothers had probably tried a little harder than they did for each other. Terry, as always, didn’t know it was her birthday.

'How old now, huh?’ He grunted as he stumbled through the kitchen, still half drunk.

'Thirteen. I told you. Last night,’ Mandy said quietly.

'What happened last night?’ asked Mickey.

Mandy shook her head. 'Nothing,’ she murmured, angrily jabbing a knife into the butter. 'Give me some fucking presents,’ she said, feigning brightness so well that her three brothers didn’t notice something was off.

Mickey had stolen her some perfume from the mall, and made her a shiv. 'So you can defend yourself when I’m not around,’ he explained. She smiled and hugged him tight. He shrank away from her a little, feeling like he was supposed to.

'I love it,’ she told him. Mickey was her favourite brother, though she’d never tell the other two. He smiled back.

Iggy thumped a brown paper bag down in front of her. 'Enjoy sis. You’re a woman now,’ he winked.

She tentatively opened the bag. 'Porn, really?’ she smirked, taking three or four magazines and some DVDs out of the bag. Mickey only caught a glimpse of the magazines from across the table, but they seemed like the girl version of his magazines, ie, naked dudes instead of naked chicks. He felt his breath catch in his throat just glancing at them. The DVDs were unlabelled and looked illegal, but that was nothing new. She raised her eyebrows and slid the stuff back into the bag. 'Thanks,’ she said, awkward but amused.

Mickey couldn’t keep his eyes off the bag all through breakfast.

-

His brothers had gone out, probably to rob some convenience stores, and his dad was cashing welfare checks and then going to get drunk again. Just Mickey and Mandy were left. They cleaned up the kitchen then watched some South Park. Mickey was only half watching.

After the fourth episode ended, his sister got up and grabbed a jacket. 'I’m meeting some friends from school. We’re going to the mall and getting pizza later. See you,’ she said, slamming the door. Mickey walked steadily over to the window and watched her walk away. As soon as she turned the corner, he bolted towards the kitchen, grabbed the bag and went back to his room. He hooked a chair over the door handle, just in case someone came home unexpectedly, and sat on the edge of his bed. He carefully took a magazine out of the bag and opened it.

He got that feeling again, that strange feeling somewhere between his heart and his stomach. And then another feeling in his dick. This was what it was supposed to be, Mickey realised, this is what he was supposed to feel when he looked at those girls. But for him, it was happening with guys.

He didn’t know what this meant. But he couldn’t even focus on anything else; right now, all he could see was the man on the page. Tall, tan. Up to his ears in muscles. He felt himself moaning, and almost automatically reached for his dick. 'Shit,’ he gasped, eyes locked on the photo. Well fuck if this wasn’t the greatest thing he’d ever felt in his life.

-

When he was done, Mickey tried to smooth out the magazine, but realised it was useless. It was obvious that someone had used it. He bit his lip. Mandy wouldn’t miss one, surely? There were three more in the bag. Besides, he’d barely cracked the surface of the magazine in his hand. So he put it in the drawer with his others.

He walked slowly back to the kitchen and put the bag back on the table. As he washed his hands, the back door opened and Iggy entered. 'Hey,’ Mickey greeted his brother, acting casual.

Iggy nodded at him. 'What’s going on, little brother?’

Mickey shrugged, getting a bottle of juice from the fridge. He stood in the doorway, toying with it absently. 'Ig, can I ask you something?’

'Shoot,’ Iggy replied, kicking his boots off and sitting at the table.

Mickey sat opposite, trying to figure out how to phrase it. 'You know the magazines?’

Iggy nodded, reaching into his pocket. 'How many you need?’ he asked, tossing a few magazines of bullets across.

Mickey sighed. 'No - well, sure, thanks - no, I mean the ones with the naked chicks.’

Iggy grinned. 'Yeah?’

Mickey looked down. 'I - I was wondering. What if you liked the ones without naked chicks?’

His brother frowned, not understanding. 'You mean like a regular magazine? Tv guide, rolling stone or some shit?’

Mickey groaned. 'How fucking dumb are you, Ig…no, asshole, I mean the ones you got Mandy. With naked dudes,’ he said quietly.

'Those ones are for girls or for - oh, shit,’ Iggy’s mouth was open as he realised what his brother was saying. 'You’re a homo?’

Mickey froze. 'I - no. I don’t know. Fuck, I’m not. No,’ he stuttered. 'I was just curious, like, what it would mean. If you jerked off to those pictures.’

'You jerked off to them?’

'No,’ he said, far too quickly.

Iggy raised his eyebrows. 'Look, some guys like guys. Some guys like girls and guys. It’s - whatever. It is what it is. But don’t let the neighbourhood find out. And don’t let dad find out.’

'Why? And I’m not - that,’ Mickey muttered.

'Dad fucking hates homos, Mick. You’re too young to remember, but…one time he saw two guys just holding hands. And he just went mad. Beat 'em, pistol whipped 'em. Fucking shot them in the legs.’

Mickey clasped his hands, breathing carefully. He felt sick and panicked. He didn’t want to think about what his dad would do if he’d caught Mickey earlier.

'Don’t you - don’t you hate them too?’ he asked Iggy quietly.

'Fuck, no. I don’t love 'em, I’m not going to dance in a fucking parade with 'em or anything. But I don’t hate 'em. They’ve never done anything to me.’

Mickey nodded. 'So you’re - neutral?’

'Ay, that’s the word.’ The brothers were quiet for a moment. 'Look, Mick, you’re barely fifteen. Whether you are or not, keep quiet about it for your own sake. Trust me on this.’

-

Mickey promptly, albeit reluctantly, got rid of the magazine from his drawer.

Then he began putting posters of girls up on his bedroom wall.

And then he bought some dirty movies and left the discs scattered around his room.

Anyone who looked inside his room would have assumed he was straight as could be. And Mickey desperately wanted them to assume correct.

He told himself he’d only jerked off once to pictures of guys. So it didn’t count.

He conveniently forgot about the many, many failed attempts to jerk off the pictures of girls.

Mickey forced himself to study the pictures. Stared hard at the lips and the breasts. 'This is what you’re supposed to like,’ he muttered as he tried to get hard. 'Come on, you piece of shit,’ he said through gritted teeth.

He laid awake at night, trying again in the dark. When he closed his eyes, and relaxed, it started to work. But then he found himself picturing guys. It’d been months, and those men from the magazine were still burned into his brain. He tried to push them out. 'No, fuck,’ he whispered angrily into his pillow. It was no use. So he stopped. He didn’t want to finish, not to a guy.

Mickey reached for his bedside light and flicked it on. He stared at the naked form of an anonymous woman on the wall beside him. Nothing. Not one fucking thing. He turned the light off and threw himself back onto the pillows in defeat. Mickey was crying.

-

A week later and they were in the living room, in front of the tv. Mickey wasn’t really paying attention; he and Mandy were cleaning and sharpening the family knives. He didn’t know how many there were. He’d stopped counting a long time ago.

Suddenly his Dad shouted angrily at the tv, throwing his crumpled up beer can at it.

'What’s wrong?’ Mandy asked absently.

'Fucking queers,’ Terry growled.

Mickey’s head snapped up. The tv was tuned into CNN. Some state somewhere had legalised gay marriage. There were people holding banners and flags, cheering, dancing. They looked so happy. The camera panned to a couple kissing in celebration. Two men. That’s when his dad lost it completely. But Mickey barely heard the hatred spewing from his father’s mouth. He was fixated on the way they were holding each other, looking into each others eyes. They didn’t seem scared. They were smiling. And they looked like they had no worry anymore. And they were kissing in broad daylight, on tv. Mickey felt an ache somewhere in his chest. The happiness he saw onscreen would never be found on the Southside. Their biggest problem had just been fixed. Mickey’s biggest problem was existing.

His dad whacked him over the head as he walked past, jerking him out of his thoughts. 'Don’t look too long, they’ll turn you,’ he said. 'I’m going to the Alibi,’ he told his kids.

Mickey slowly stood up and turned the tv off. Mandy was looking at him curiously. 'Mick? You ok?’

He frowned. 'Course I am.’

'You know Dad’s a piece of shit? Don’t listen to him about that.’ She paused. 'Its fine if you’re gay. I mean, don’t tell him. But don’t go around thinking it’s wrong or something.’

Mickey stared at his little sister. He wanted to thank her, he wanted to tell her everything, wanted to ask her how she got so cool, wanted to hug her and to cry. But he didn’t. 'You think I’m a fucking faggot?’ he spat at her. 'Shut up.’

'Mick, I -’

'Shut up - shut the fuck up, Mandy,’ he yelled. He stormed off towards his room.

She gave him a moment, then went to stand by his door. 'Mick?’ she said softly. He didn’t answer. She came in. He didn’t have the heart to tell her to fuck off. He was crouched on the floor at the foot of his bed. She carefully sat beside him. 'I don’t know if you’re gay. And I never said you were. But I know that on my birthday, Iggy gave me four dirty magazines, not three. And I know that I found the fourth in the trash.’ He looked at her fearfully. His eyes were heavy with tears, and he couldn’t move. But her eyes were kind. 'C'mere’ she muttered, pulling him into a sideways hug, his head on her shoulder.

They sat quietly for a while. 'I’m not gay,’ Mickey whispered tightly through his tears. Neither of them were convinced.

'Ok. It’s ok,’ she said.

-

The next morning, Mickey woke up to find an old envelope slid under his door. It read 'just in case’, in Mandy’s scrawl. Inside, were the DVDs that Iggy had given her. He almost threw them out right there. But they were blank, like all the other porn DVDs in his room. So he tossed them onto his desk and tried not to think about them.

-

He watched one the next day.

Grabbed one of the many stolen laptops from the kitchen and went back to his room.

Shakily inserted one.

Pressed play.

It was an utter revelation. And he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

But still, he told himself he wasn’t gay. Over and over.

He’d just watched one movie, one time. That didn’t mean anything.

Except it quickly became three movies. Eight movies. He bought more DVDs and beat up the guy who sold them to him, to keep him quiet. Twelve movies. Twenty four movies. A little after that, he stopped counting.

But he still wasn’t gay. This was just something he did for fun. It meant nothing. He didn’t even like guys. He liked girls. He loved girls.

He would never fuck a guy for real. Never. Because he wasn’t gay.

He snapped each DVD in half when he was done and took it to the trashcan outside the supermarket, six blocks over.

He told himself the exercise would do him good.

-

One morning, Mickey woke to find Ian Gallagher in his room. Like with any intruder, he pinned him down and prepared to fuck him up. But for some wild reason he wound up just fucking him instead.

He’d never done it. With anyone.

He’d seen enough of those movies to know what to do.

It felt ridiculously great.

He let the Gallagher kid pound the shit out of him. In a good way.

Being so close to another guy like this - he could smell him, all over. And shit, when Ian pushed his dick into Mickey, when he could feel him there, when he was hurting but happy - he had a short moment free of all the hate that he constantly shackled himself with.

They had barely finished before Terry stumbled in, needing the bathroom. Both boys froze. Thank god Terry was too drunk and high to notice.

As they shrugged their clothes back on, Ian moved like he was going to kiss him. Mickey swerved and told him to fuck off.

He went to get coffee while Ian let himself out. As he drank, the hatred slowly began sinking back in.

He wasn’t gay. They’d never kissed. He’d just fucked Gallagher for fun. To get some.

He wasn’t gay because it didn’t mean anything. It would only mean something if they kissed. So they’d keep hooking up. But they’d never kiss. Mickey would make sure.

Maybe Gallagher was gay - that’s why he wanted to kiss - but Mickey wasn’t gay. And he didn’t want to kiss Ian. Didn’t even think twice about his lips. Didn’t fall asleep thinking about Ian’s mouth. Couldn’t still feel him inside.

Because he wasn’t fucking gay.

-

He kept fucking Gallagher. He couldn’t help himself.

He kept his distance, though. He didn’t talk to him. He didn’t hang out with him. They weren’t friends. They sure as shit weren’t boyfriends.

And Mickey would go home and jerk off. He’d stare at the posters of girls on his wall, but the whole time he’d be thinking of Ian.

He’d recently bought a couple of posters of skinny, flat chested girls with red hair, cut short. And when he dimmed the lights and closed his eyes until they were only slightly open, he could pretend it was Gallagher’s picture.

But it wasn’t. It was a girl. He was getting off to a girl’s picture. So he wasn’t gay.

-

He wound up in juvie again. He told himself he didn’t miss Gallagher.

-

One day, a guy started coming on to Mickey. He was careful, but eventually decided it was fine. Guys in prison fucked all the time. Didn’t mean they were gay.

The guy got him alone. But then two other guys jumped out of the shadows. It had been a setup.

They pounded the shit out of him. Not in a good way.

-

'How’s juvie?’ came Mandy’s voice down the phone.

'It’s fine. It’s juvie,’ he answered blankly.

'Whatever, just trying to make conversation.’ They paused. 'You want me to send you anything?’

'Yeah, smokes and porn.’

'Ok. I’ll figure out where to get your porn, and what kind of smokes -’

'What are you talking about?’

'I -’

'What do you mean, 'your porn’, like it’s different or something? I just need regular porn,’ he barked.

'Mick, for fucks sake, you’re nearly eighteen. How much longer are you gonna keep pretending? I know the porn you like, I know what you like,’ she said, firm but gentle.

'I’m not fucking gay, Mandy,’ he hissed.

'Well. At least you actually said the word,’ she commented. 'What do you want then?’

'Get me girl-on-girl.’

'You - you want lesbian porn?’ she spluttered incredulously.

'Yeah. Regular porn has guys in too. Lesbo porn doesn’t. Now do you believe I’m not fucking gay?’

She sighed. 'I’ll send you the porn, Mickey, but I don’t believe you.’

-

He was out of juvie a couple months later. Overcrowding, good behaviour, whatever.

Ian and Mandy came to get him. Seeing Gallagher felt like being punched in the stomach. He’d changed. He somehow looked hotter. All Mickey wanted was to undress him and fuck him, right there on the sidewalk. He wanted to kiss him. Throw him up against the wall and press their lips hard together and fucking taste him.

But mostly he just wanted to be with Ian. In any way. He’d missed him.

Maybe he was gay.

-

'Can I ask you something?’ said Ian from beside him.

'Sure,’ Mickey said, passing him the shared cigarette.

Ian took a drag, considering. 'It was ages ago. When you were in juvie?’ Mickey nodded slowly. 'I asked Mandy about you. And she said you wanted girl-on-girl porn.’

Mickey took the cigarette back awkwardly. ’ Yeah. Yeah, I asked her to send me some.’

'Why?’

Mickey sighed. 'Do we have to fucking talk about this? Why do you even want to know?’

Ian turned to face him. 'Yeah, we do. I was always curious.’ Mickey frowned. He was quiet, just looking at Ian helplessly. 'You can tell me.’

'I - look at first it was to pretend I wasn’t gay. To Mandy, to the others in juvie. To myself.’ Ian nodded, letting him continue. 'But, then she sent it. It was just pictures. It didn’t turn me on or whatever. But…the girls. They were gay. Or at least pretending to be. Gay - like me,’ he said quietly. Ian was staring at him, somewhere between surprise and sadness. 'And it was like…they were full on gay, the pictures. So fucking open and unapologetic. And I thought, looking at them - people like this. People are cool with this. People get off to this. Not just people - I mean, sure, girls - but loads of guys too. They - they get off to gayness. And I know it’s all fake and whatever…but it was nice. And for the first time…I felt like it was maybe ok. Ok to be gay. I don’t know why it was porn that showed me it was ok, but it did. And I know I was still a closeted little shit for a while after, but I was starting to think it was alright. And it wasn’t wrong…but most of all I actually began to quietly admit it to myself. Looking at it every day, it gave me some hope.’ He paused. 'I know that sounds weird or whatever -’

'No, no,’ Ian stopped him, holding his hand. 'That’s - oh shit, c'mere,’ he murmured, pulling him into a firm kiss. 'I’d never thought about it like that,’ he smiled softly, hugging him. 'Your fucking head, man. I’ll never understand it but I love it,’ he told him.

'Right back at you,’ Mickey said.

Ian laughed. 'Seriously. Thanks for telling me.’ They sat there together for a while. 'That’s kind of awesome, though. Fucking strange, but awesome.’

Mickey shrugged. 'Thank god for lesbians.’

Ian chuckled into his shoulder. 'Thank god for lesbians.’

-

// ok I hope you enjoyed it?! please send me prompts!! :) //

I'm so so Sorry (Suga Scenario)
Scenario requested by ‘Haru Anon’ :P when you come home late from work and Suga gets angry at you and he ends up hitting you, BUT with a happy ending :) Enjoy 
—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————— You had a terrifying long day at work. Your co-workers were pissing you off, your boss was getting on your nerves and all you were doing was some stupid paper work. You hated your job all you wanted to do was being home, sitting on the couch, being on your laptop or watching TV and stuff your belly with food, and most importantly being together with your boyfriend Yoongi. You were so happy when the clock showed that there were a few minutes left in hell.  But than your Boss surprised you with guess what, MORE paper work.  You stayed longer as you expected, you actually wanted to send Yoongi a message that you will be home late but you thought that he might be busy with work so you didn’t wrote him anything. After two more hours of work you finally could drive home, it was already pretty dark outside so you tried to come home as fast as you can.  After you finally reached your house you pulled out the keys and got in, you took of your shoes, dropped your back and hung up the coat. You walked into the living room as you saw your boyfriend Yoongi impatiently waiting for you. ‘Im sorry that it took me so long but-,’ you couldn’t finish your sentence because Yoongi interrupted you ,’Where have you been.?’, he asked you with a clearly mad and annoying Voice. You sigh ,’I wanted to tell you, but you interrupted me. So anyway, I was clearly finished with my work, but then my Boss decided to give me some extra work’. What you not realized was that the last sentence sounded so wrong in so many ways. After you saw the shocked expression on Yoongi’s face you realized what you said and you tried to safe it ,’you know I mean he gave me more paper work.!’,SURE, PAPER WORK. IF THATS HOW YOU CALL IT’, it was clearly too late,’NO.! I Did Paper Work, What Do You Think I Did, HUH.?!’,’PAPER WORK.?! MORE THAN FUCKING MY BOSS FOR EXTRA MONEY, HUH.?!’, you couldn’t believe what you heard, fucking my boss for extra money.?! Is he seriously now. ‚’ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME.? I WAITED THE WHOLE ENTIRE DAY TO COME HOME AND SPEND THE NIGHT WITH YOU, BUT YOU HAVE NOTHING BETTER TO DO THAN YELLING AT ME AND TELLING ME THAT I CHEATED ON YOU.?!?!? ARE YOU SERIOUS.?!?’,’YES I AM.!! I’M SO FUCKING DONE WITH YOUR BULLSHIT.!’  You both were yelling at each other like there were no tomorrow.  ‘IF YOU ARE DONE WITH MY BULLSHIT WHY DONT YOU JUST LEAVE ME.?’,’YOU KNOW WHAT I THINK THATS WHAT IM GONNA DO. YOU CAN GO SUCK SOMEONE ELSES DICK’, he were so arrogant and so mean that your eyes started to get watery, but NO you wouldn’t cry in front of him, you wouldn’t let him win.  ‘ YOUR SUCH AN ASSHOLE.! YOU KNOW WHAT I THINK I’M GONNA GO SUCK SOMEONE ELSES DICK THAN BEING LONGER TOGETHER WITH YOU.!’, in the next moment all you could feel was pain on your right cheek. You drove him to the edge with the last sentence. You were lying on the floor, one hand supported your weight the other one placed on your cheek.  You were in a shock state, you couldn’t think properly. All you knew now was that your Boyfriend, your Boyfriend Yoongi hit you. You stood up slowly, he stood next to you. Disbelief, shock, hate on himself written all over his face. You walked away hugging yourself with one hand and the other still placed on your cheek. You went to the bedroom locked yourself in and laid flatly on the bed and starred at the ceiling, now you let your tears and sobs escape from your eyes and mouth. You curled yourself into a ball and cried yourself to sleep.  Yoongi were sitting on the couch in the living room, he never wanted to hurt you. But now all you did was crying because of him. He heard you crying but he refused to go to you because that would make things worse. He made himself comfortable on the couch and looked at the ceiling thinking about how you must hate him now, how he overreacted, how he was so wrong. He couldn’t even understand how on earth he assumed you were cheating on him. After a while he fell asleep as well.    On the next day you woke up and refused to go out of your room, you got up and walked to the mirror your eyes were a bloody red, swollen and heavy, a bruise stained your cheek. You started to cry again but tried to hold back your sobs without success. Yoongi woke up and immediately stood up, he rubbed his eyes and checked the room, then the apartment to see if you are still here. He sighed in relief as he heard your sobs, he was scared that you left and that he would never see you again. He took a deep breath and knocked on your door ,’(Y/N), please open the door. I’m really sorry’, he said with a soft Voice. You loved it when he spoke with a soft tone, it showed the sweet and caring side of him, but you didn’t answer you were still mad at him and you surely didn’t want to talk to him. But to be honest you wanted to listen what he has to say, so you waited for him to continue.  ‘(Y/N), are you there.? Are you listening.?’, he said with worry in his Voice,’I…I know that you are mad at me, and I know that you probably hate me. But…’, he took another deep breath,’..but i Love you. I can understand that you probably will leave me, that you hate me now. I know a did a huge mistake, I don’t even know how the thought of you cheating on me crossed my mind. I.. I’m just really scared of loosing you, but to be honest I think i already lost you..’, you opened the door and saw Yoongi leaning on the Doorframe supported by his arms. He looked at you, you saw the sadness on his face, his eyes a bit watery. You knew that he never cried, so it was completely new to you, but to be honest the view of him broke your heart.  ‘(Y/N) I’m so so so sor-‚’, he got cut of by you suddenly hugging him tightly. His arms found the there way to your body and soon he hugged you back tightly. He placed a kiss on your Head and mumbled against your hair,’I’m so sorry, please don’t leave me’.’Never’, you mumbled against his chest. —————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————— I hope it’s long enough ;D 
Hope you like it, and send in requests/ questions/ personal question if you want♡
Thank you for your support :3

bookie-yan  asked:

Hello, I waited for your story everyday and love them so much! You are very talented and I'm really appreciated your effort! So here is my prompt: Amy get drunk and fall asleep on Sheldon's lap, Sheldon kisses her and whispers "I can't tell you how much I love you.' and then Amy awake! Thank you! xoxo

Hi!  Thanks for the prompt.  I like Sheldon being affectionate with Amy.  I’m about to go stand outside the studio and protest.  More affection!  More affection!  Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hi there! This might sound a little silly but you sound very well informed on the matter I was just wondering what your opinion was on the easiest and best ways to experience Shakespeare's plays? I dont really have access to theatre productions and stuff but I'm interested and I wondered for example about whether there are any tv shows/movies online that present it well and stay very true to the originals? Or would reading the scripts be best?

Hi!

This is not silly at all, and actually accessible shakespeare is something very important to me, so I’ll do my best to give you some options.

For the sake of simplicity, I’m going to assume you’re comfortable with torrenting things because that is the absolute easiest way for me to handle this, but if you’re not – send me a message off anon and I can upload things to google drive or find some other good way of getting you anything you can’t find streaming for free online and don’t feel like/aren’t able to buy.

First I’d like to start by saying: there’s no wrong way to enjoy Shakespeare. If Baz Lurhmann's Romeo and Juliet is the best thing you’ve ever seen, or if you adore Kenneth Branagh, or if The Lion King is your favorite adaptation of Hamlet, there’s no “right” Shakespeare. Some people prefer 100% faithful productions, but for some people, three hours of Kenneth Branagh reciting every line the bard penned for Hamlet is exhausting, boring, or impossible. And there’s nothing wrong with that! The most important thing about Shakespeare is to enjoy him, whether that means reading the plays in the middle of the night with 8 colored highlighters, or watching Heath Ledger dance down the bleachers in 10 Things I Hate About You (better known to Shakespeare as The Taming of the Shrew). That being said, here is my as-comprehensive-as-possible-for-a-blogger-who-just-woke-up guide to Shakespeare.

Watch it:

Shakespeare is, above all, meant to be watched. I wrote a whole paper about the importance of physical action in Shakespeare, and I firmly believe as a dramatic artist that it is necessary to watch Shakespeare. So, here are some options for watching him.

  • Kenneth Branagh is not my cup of tea, but you can’t deny that the man understands Shakespeare. He has made films of quite a hefty percentage of Shakespeare’s well known plays, and most people adore them. I’ve heard especially good things about his Othello and his Much Ado About Nothing, and anything with his name attached should be a piece of cake to find steaming online, whether for free or on Amazon instant video if you feel like shelling out a few dollars. His Hamlet is done with a completely unabridged text, and I expect many of this others are too. 
  • The BBC has some amazing films of Shakespeare plays that they’ve released, especially recently, and all of these are of incredible quality and handle the script really well. In fact, their Hamlet (with David Tennant in the title role) is one of my favorite productions of Hamlet ever. Just last year they released The Hollow Crown, which was the biggest of Shakespeare’s history plays (Richard II, Henry IV parts 1 and 2, and Henry V) with great great actors like Ben Whishaw, Jeremy Irons, Tom Hiddleston, Patrick Stewart, Michelle Dockery, and Rory Kinnear. These, too, are pretty easy to find online, and are stunning. The BBC also did a series awhile back called Shakespeare Re-Told with some fairly outrageous but fun looking modern adaptations of Shakespeare plays, and while I can’t attest to the quality of these as I’ve never seen them, the casting looks great (Billie Piper, James McAvoy, and Imelda Staunton among them) 
  • A number of bigger theatres will actually film and release their productions. The National Theatre in London has a program called NTLive, where they release filmed productions of some of their plays. I saw their Othello when I was in London with Rory Kinnear as Iago and enjoyed it. If you look around, I’m sure you can find a handful of other one’s they’ve done (as well as some great non-Shakespeare productions)

Watch adaptations:

Even when the stories don’t include the bard’s on words, watching modern adaptations is a great way to get the story without the fuss of the seemingly-unapproachable Early Modern English that Shakespeare writes in. There are a ton of these, but some personal favorites are

  • 10 Things I Hate About You, or, The Taming of the Shrew in high school with Heath Ledger and baby Joseph Gordon-Levitt 
  • She’s the Man, or, Amanda Bynes stars in Twelfth Night and also shoves a tampon up her nose
  • The Lion King, or, Hamlet with impossibly hot animated lions
  • West Side Story, or, Romeo and Juliet plus 1950s gangs and race relations

Listen to it:

One of the best decisions I ever made was to download a torrent of The Complete Arkangel Shakespeare. It’s a huge huge file and it took my computer almost a week to do it, but that’s fully dramatized unabridged audio recordings of 38 Shakespeare plays. Which is, really, pretty incredible. Each play is fully cast from a pool of actors shared across plays, and it’s basically the complete auditory experience of going to a Shakespeare play, just minus the visual. As sometimes Shakespeare’s language can be dense, hearing actors who really understand what they’re saying handle the language makes it much much easier to know what they’re saying. I find it helpful to listen to the plays as I read them, adding an extra layer of both comprehension and entertainment. And David Tennant plays Mercutio! 

Read them: 

There’s nothing wrong with reading Shakespeare. It shouldn’t be your stopping point – you shouldn’t read them and, upon hating them, decide you hate Shakespeare. Shakespeare wouldn’t have wanted it that way. But, if you enjoy reading them? Read all of them! It’s by far the most accessible way of tackling Shakespeare, as they’re all public domain and thus free online, and there are half a dozen published copies with good footnotes that will help you slog through some of the language. I love the Folger’s Shakespeare Library editions of the text for their notes and critical material, but you can also get a plain old copy of the text free online with just a simple google search (project Gutenberg, I think, has all of the, though I tend to get mine here

See them:

I know you said you don’t have access to theatre productions, and obviously I’m not going to tell you to fly yourself to the Globe and see them anyway, but what I will say is: keep an eye out. Colleges and Universities do Shakespeare a lot and even if it’s not an incredible production, the experience of seeing Shakespeare live is unbeatable. Shakespeare in the Park-type productions tend to be free or cheap depending on where you are. Check out and see if theaters in your area have student/artist/unemployed discounts on tickets, or if they do discounted preview showings, find small indie or community theaters with cheaper tickets or, if locations is your issue, take every chance you get while traveling to see if there’s an opportunity. I’m not going to act like you can’t truly love Shakespeare if you see him live, because that’s not true, there are a million and one ways to love Shakespeare and each one is as valid and important as the next, but seeing his work live truly is a treat.

Most importantly:

Don’t take him too seriously. There’s plenty of bloodshed and betrayal and tragedy but at the end of the day, Shakespeare wasn’t trying to be a Great and Noble Artist, he was trying to make money by entertaining a crowd. Look up a list of Shakespeare’s 10 best dick jokes and laugh your way through the plays as you read them. Find the joy in the comic relief characters, and don’t be afraid to have fun. 

anonymous asked:

Umm do you think you could make a basicallyfourzer0seven prompt? Where like Marcel is stressing but Scotty would refuse to leave him alone?

((sorry this took a bit, still getting the hang of writing this pairing))

As the hours passed and tomorrow loomed ever closer, the more Marcel could feel stress and nerves niggling at his skin. His shoulders were tense and impossible to relax, and his limbs were restless, leg incessantly shaking and fingers constantly drumming on every hard surface they could find. His eyelids were heavy and begging for sleep, but he still insisted on avoiding going to bed as sleep would only bring tomorrow sooner and he wasn’t ready to face the day yet. How could he ever be ready when his livelihood was at stake?

One small mistake could destroy everything he had worked so hard to build, and that small possibility was enough to worry and scare him, and leave him unable to sleep. Scotty had slipped off to bed a few hours before, leaving only after Marcel had made the false promise that he’d follow him soon, but instead he stayed on the couch to mindlessly watch netflix and watch the clock tick by to his doom.

He should have expected that Scotty would come to look for him when he realized that Marcel didn’t join him in bed, but he was hoping he wouldn’t and would instead sleep soundly through the night, but luck wasn’t with him, and he quietly cursed under his breath when Scotty padded into the room. “Marcel?” he mumbled, half asleep. “Why are you still up? It’s almost four am.”

The lie was on the tip of his tongue, but he was much too exhausted to be anything but truthful to him, and he let out a soft sigh. “Couldn’t sleep,” he mumbled, his voice hoarse, and he winced at the sharp pain in the back of his throat. Nerves and worry that after tomorrow, he would no longer be able to speak stabbed him again, and he took a deep shaky breath to calm himself down.

Sensing his unease, Scotty wandered over to him and plopped down onto the couch next to him. “Are you worried about the surgery?” he asked softly, and gently intertwined their fingers together and gave his hand a small squeeze. “People get their tonsils taken out all the time, and they recover just fine. There’s nothing to be worried about.”

“Other people don’t depend on their voices for their job, Scott,” Marcel retorted, wincing again as he irritated his already aching throat.

“Will you shut up and stop hurting yourself? You’re supposed to rest your voice,” Scotty sternly reminded him, and this time Marcel didn’t argue with him and instead shot him a measly glare. “Marcel, you’ll be fine. The chances of something going wrong is slim to nothing. The surgeons won’t fuck up; they’ll remove your tonsils safely like they’ve done a million times before, and you’ll wake up all nice and cosy in a hospital bed, and I’ll be there waiting for you with a bucket of ice cream, okay? You’ll be fine.” He squeezed his hand again.

“And I’ll be able to talk again?” Marcel murmured in a quiet whisper and leaned against Scotty’s shoulder.

“Not right away, but soon after, yeah,” Scotty reassured him, and rested his head against Marcel’s.

“And you’ll be there?”

“Yeah.”

“The whole time?”

“Of course.”

“With ice cream?”

“Whatever flavor you want,” Scotty confirmed, and turned to smile at him, and for the first time all night, Marcel allowed himself to relax. Scotty was right; nothing would go wrong, and he was going to be okay. There was no need to worry. “But before all of that, you need to come to bed with me and get some rest.”

Marcel nodded, and let out a yawn, his eyelids feeling heavy with sleep, and conceded that maybe it was time to go to bed. Scotty grabbed the remote and switched off the TV, before getting up and tugging Marcel to his feet, and Marcel followed him on autopilot, allowing Scotty to lead him to the bedroom. He was still a little worried that something would go wrong with the surgery, but Scotty said he would be fine and he trusted him, and he supposed that as long as Scotty was there by his side, then he’d be able to get through anything.

I’ve noticed there isn’t exactly a lot of Markiplier imagines/fanfic so I decided to expand my imagines/fanfic and start writing some about Mark, I’ll be spending my night writing up as many as I can for you guys! Hope you enjoy this! Feel free to request any time.

Y/N POV:

Tonight was the night, you were leaving your hometown and moving to Los Angeles, California. You were going to be roommates with your best friend, Mark, he was a huge Youtuber, you in a way envied his success. You were also a Youtuber, just not as popular as Mark, you had a few thousand subscribers less than Mark. Unlike him, who did a lot of gaming, you did cosmetics. You played video games, but that wasn’t what your channel was exactly about. You and Mark had been communicating over the internet after you discovered him, you didn’t even think he’d get back to your message, but surprisingly he did. That was a little over a year ago. The two of you came up with the decision of him flying you out to Los Angeles to stay with him when you realized that him helping you with editing your videos and becoming bigger over Youtube, just wasn’t going to work from two different states. Over the year, the two of you became so close, you talked non stop everyday, about everything and anything. He was a pretty neat guy, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t have a slight crush on him. Mark was incredibly adorable and intelligent. It was hard not to develop a crush on someone like him.

The whole flight you sat tapping your foot against the floor and fiddling with your fingers, nipping at your lips as your nerves only continued to get worse farther into the flight. This was your first time meeting Mark in person, and on top of that, moving in with him seemed scary at the moment. Time was going so slow, you were so impatient to get off the plane. You could barely focus on the movie that you were watching. After about three hours, you landed in Los Angeles, immediately quickly walking off of the plane and pulling your phone out, holding it up to get signal. “Y/N?” You heard a man’s voice, it was deep to be exact. You pulled your phone down and looked to find Mark standing in front of you. “Oh my gosh, hey!” You said with excitement in your voice, Mark brought you in for a hug, squeezing you tightly. “How was your flight, hun?” Mark questioned, releasing you from the few-second hug, beginning to walk towards the exit of the airport. “It was great, I guess.” You said nervously, your voice shaky. “You guess? Why’s that?” Mark questioned once again. “Loads of turbulence.” You turned to Mark, giggling. You totally lied, but you weren’t going to confess that it was because you were meeting him for the first time and you secretly had feelings for him. 

Mark popped the trunk of his car, before you could put your bags in the trunk yourself, he stopped you, “Ah ah ah, let me take these for you.” He smiled politely, holding out his hand for your bags. You gave him the bags and he put them away in the trunk, closing it with a bang. Mark pressed a button on his keychain and the car doors unlocked, he walked over to the passenger door and opened it for you, giving you yet again, a sweet smile. “Ooh, you’re such a gentleman.” You returned the smile, getting into the car and fiddling with the seat belt, Mark closed the door and hurried around the car to his side, hopping in and starting it up and driving off. “So, would you like to go grab something to eat, or would you like to get unpacked first?” Mark asked, driving out of the airport and onto the highway. “Hmm.. Let’s go grab a bite, I haven’t had anything to eat since this morning. And it’s like, 8:30.” You felt your stomach grumble as you spoke. As much as you wanted to get the packing undone, getting food into your stomach was a bit more important at the moment. “How does a steakhouse sound?” He offered, keeping focus on the road. “I’m cool with that.” You agreed.

The car ride was kind of boring, but you figured it was because Mark was focused on the road. Dinner was amazing, your steak was juicy as ever, and Mark couldn’t stop talking to you about how excited he was to have you living with him, he had so many plans about recording, editing, possibly getting a dog, and just having some company since his last roommates – who were also Youtubers – moved out. He couldn’t stop blabbing, and it was absolutely adorable. The ride home was also the same, he seemed to have opened up a lot since he had got you from the airport, he was pretty quiet at first, maybe he was just shy. But you could see the excitement in him now. Living with Mark was going to be amazing, you could just feel it. You were most definitely looking forward to this, and you could tell Mark was too.

Mark pulled into the driveway of his house, the two of you laughing about a stupid inside joke the two of you had came up with a few months ago. “We come up with some of the weirdest things ever.” Mark’s eyes were wrinkled, wearing the biggest smile he had. The two of you were laughing so hard your rib cage was starting to hurt. You wiped a tear from laughter from your face. “We sure do.” You giggled some more before exiting the car, shutting the door behind you. Mark popped the trunk and grabbed your bags, you grabbed two to make it a little easier on him. The two of you walked up to his door, practically waddling due to your heavy bags. Mark set your bags down for a second so he could unlock the door. He twisted the knob and kicked it open with his foot, leading you inside. You set your bags down and took your shoes off, Mark closed and locked the door behind him. You looked up and took a look at his house in amazement. This was where you were going to be living? It was like a mansion compared to your dinky apartment you were living in by yourself.

“This place is beautiful, Mark.” You mentioned, following him as he led you up the spiral staircase, he stopped in front of a door, opening it and setting your bags inside. “You think? It’s not so beautiful when it’s trashed because four guys were living in here.” He chuckled, you let out a soft giggle. “So this is your room, it was the guest room, but now it’s your’s. You can do whatever you want with it, if you prefer to use your sheets, go for it, you can set these sheets in the laundry room, I’ll show you where that is in a moment.” Mark rambled, touching the sheets with his hands. The bed was made perfectly. The room was just right for you. “Sounds great! Mind giving me the tour quickly before I unpack?” You asked politely. Mark gave you a small smile, “I’d be more than happy to. Follow me.” He walked passed you and out the door, you followed behind him. “So this here, is the shared upstairs bathroom, only guests really used this bathroom because as you could tell, the guest bedroom doesn’t have it’s own bathroom, but if you want to take over this one, I’m totally cool with it, I have my own, I never use this one.” He rambled some more, you nodded and allowed him to continue on.

Mark led you into the first bedroom at the end of the hallway, “So this room here,” He opened the door up, “This is my.. Messy bedroom.” He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck as you laughed, “Nice boxers.” You pointed out, Mark’s face turned red. “You seen nothing.” He shut the door and continued on with the tour. He showed you the other three rooms, explaining who’s they were and what he was going to do with them. He lead you down the spiral stairs and down to the kitchen and living room, “So these rooms are of course, the kitchen and living room. You’re more than welcome to eat whatever I have, I really don’t care about what’s eaten, as long as there is shit left to eat.” He chuckled, his chuckle made you giggle. Mark was just too adorable. “The living room, watch whatever you want, if you’re into porn keep that in your bedroom, unless you invite me. I’m totally kidding.” He laughed out load before moving onto the closets. “Laundry machines can be found in here,” He opened one of them and showed you how to use them. “Other closet is just a coat and shoe closet. Nothing special.” He shrugged. “Are you sure that’s all it is? Or are you not showing it to me because you’re hiding dead bodies in there?” You joked, letting out a soft giggle. Mark nudged you in the arm, “Here, want proof I’m not hiding any dead bodies?” He opened the closet door, jumping back and screaming instantly, causing you to scream and jump as well. “Gotcha!” Mark began to laugh loudly. “That’s not funny!” You playfully shoved Mark, the two of you laughing. 

It’d been a few hours in of unpacking, Mark was off recording a video in another room. You could hear him scream occasionally, he must of had been playing something scary. You smiled every time you heard that, as well as him laughing. He was so passionate. He did so much for his viewers, he was all around a great guy. The whole time you were unpacking, you found your mind making it’s way to Mark. Was it weird that you were thinking about him so much? Maybe that would die out once you settled in. Finally, you got to the bedding. Your clothes were already put away in the closet, you had put your little plants in the big window that was in your room, your nightstand with your books and table lamp set up, you put your moves in the stand under the TV Mark already had in there. There was also a desk where you set your cameras and laptop. Unpacking was frustrating, but you wanted to get this done as soon as you could. You really didn’t have that much stuff, so you knew you’d be done by tonight. You decided to change the sheets, putting your pink satin ones out on the bed. Your room looked so comfortable. Much better than the one at your old place. You brought the sheets down to the little laundry closet and grabbed a soda from the fridge, sitting down at the table in his dining room. You were going to get used to living here real fast.

After a few minutes, you heard footsteps coming down the spiral staircase. “Oh hey, Y/N. Didn’t know you were down here. Did you finish unpacking?” He gave you a friendly smile before turning to the fridge to grab a soda as well. “Oh yeah. Didn’t take as long as I thought it would. How’d recording go?” You asked, looking at him as he pulled out a stool from across from you, sitting on it and cracking open his soda. “Went pretty good. I just finished up actually, I’ll probably do the editing in the morning, I’m beat.” He chugged some of his soda. “Ugh, tell me about it. I’m ready to call it a night.” You got up from your stool, pushing it back in and grabbing your soda. “Already? You don’t want to stay up and watch a movie or something?” He gave you a pouty face. You didn’t want to turn a movie down, but it was also 2 a.m. and you were ready to crash. “I’m sorry Mark,” You sighed in guilt, “I’ve just had a really long day and I want to get some sleep. How about tomorrow night?” You offered, smiling at him. A slight smile filled in Mark’s lips, “I’d like that. A lot actually.” He nodded, “Goodnight, beau-.. Y/N.” You knew exactly what Mark was about to say, but attempted to cover up. “See you in the morning.” You hurried off, trying to hide the blush that formed on your cheeks. 

You tossed and turned for a few hours before falling asleep, which was to be expected. But what wasn’t was the nightmare you were having. You woke up with a scream, you felt sweaty and scared, you were shaking and you felt as if you couldn’t breathe. You looked around your room trying to bring yourself back to reality. You couldn’t seem to calm down, so you grabbed your blanket and left your room and down the hall to Mark’s bedroom, opening the door a little, popping your head in. “Mark?” you said in a soft tone, checking to see if he was awake or not, by the way he was looking it looked like he just began dozing off. Mark opened his eyes and stretched a little, “Everything okay, Y/N?” Mark asked, concern on his face. You shook your head a sighed, “Got room for another? I had a bad dream and I could use some company.” You sighed, wiping a year from your face. Mark quickly scooted over in his bed a little, “Sure hun, come on.” He patted the bed beside him. You entered his room, closing the door behind you and carefully walked to his bed without tripping over anything, and crawled into his bed and under his blankets. Mark slid down into his bed, staring into your eyes, “Remember, it was just a nightmare.” He assured you in a soft, raspy voice. You nodded and Mark wiped a tear from your face, another slipping from your eye. “It’s going to be okay. I’m here.” Mark assured you once again, pulling you into your arms and rubbed your back soothingly. You rested your head against his chest, taking in his scent, and after a few minutes of silence and Mark rubbing your back ever so gently, the two of you drifted off into sleep in the most comfortable way possible.

phoenics1908  asked:

I've never asked anyone anything on tumblr before, but you've made me desperate. I've seen 3 of your jealous iris fics - please tell me there are more?! You can't leave me like this. It's - inhumane, lol! Please finish the jealous fic. I'm DYING. Seriously #lifeDestroyed

ask and ye shall receive. Part 1Part 2, & Part 3

Iris stretched out on the couch, a two day old, half-eaten pan of brownies sitting on the coffee table next to a glass and a bottle of wine. It was a rare Friday night; Linda had plans and Iris had none, so she was alone in the apartment. Finally, blissfully alone.

Exactly what she had wanted.

She held the remote in her hand, the TV waiting to be turned on. She wanted to make a dent in her massive Netflix queue, to unwind from a hard week at work and an even worse month and a half of her life. She’d heard great things about the Great British Bake Off, and she couldn’t watch it with Linda there for fear that her friend would attempt to make everything and they’d both end up a hundred pounds heavier. And then there was the newest Netflix original that the entertainment writers couldn’t get enough of, the one that she’d added only two days ago when it came out. She’d practically dreamed of watching these shows during her lunch break at work, imagining herself vegging out in front of the TV for the first time in what felt like forever. She even made it clear to her roommate before they left work that Linda was not allowed to come back before midnight unless the dinner and drinks were terrible. It was seven. She had five hours left to herself before Linda knocked at the door, tipsy and happy and glad that Iris had taken her keys from her before she left so she couldn’t drive home.

Her finger rested on top of the power button. Iris stared at the blank TV screen. She wanted to press the button, wanted to want to press the button. To drift into a mindless state of being where nothing mattered but the bakers on the screen and what they were doing, the things they were creating. She wanted to lose herself to a reality where she didn’t exist, where none of the characters had ever heard of the Flash much less of Iris West, the girl who wrote about him. She wanted not to think about Barry and his problems and all of the complications that came with knowing him and loving him and missing him.

Keep reading

The End of The World

Submitted by: http://hell-if-i-know13.tumblr.com/ 

Jeremy sits down on the couch, grabs the remote and turns on the TV. He flips through his recorded shows and clicks on Doomsday Preppers. It’s his favorite show. He’s gotten a lot of great ideas for his bunker from this show. He had just begun to start the third episode when his phone rings.

Jeremy ignores it. He hates having his show interrupted. So he lets it go to voice mail, when it starts to ring again. 

What the hell- I’m not answering it, he thinks. 

On the 3rd call he finally looks, and it’s his girlfriend, Sarah, who never calls him while she is at work. 

‘What’s up, babe,’ he answers. 

'You need to call Adam- he’s been trying to call you.’

'Why?’ Jeremy asks.  

'I don’t know all the details- Adam was pretty hysterical when he called me. All I know is that he’s coming to get me and we’re coming over,’ Sarah replies. 

Must be serious, Jeremy thinks. 'Um OK, I’ll call him and find out. Be safe, baby, I love you.’

'I love you, too,’ Sarah replies. Jeremy hangs up the phone and calls Adam. 

'What the fuck is going on, man?’

'You were fucking right, dude- shit’s going down. All those times we’d made fun of you and that damn bunker, and now we’re actually going to use it,’ Adam exclaims. 

'What the hell are you talking about, Adam?’ Jeremy asks, and switches to regular TV to see if he can find anything. 'I’m watching TV right now and I’m not seeing anything, Adam.’

'And you won’t! I’m not supposed to know, I was just in the right place at the right time. I was walking past two generals who were talking, and I heard them say that North Korea and Russia have both launched nuclear missiles at us,’ Adam replies. Adam is in the army reserves and is a mechanic on a base. 

'No way, you’re messing with me, Adam. Really funny- get the crazy bunker guy all worked up.’

'Jeremy, I’m dead serious. I’m driving to pick up Sarah right now. Get your ass in the bunker and wait for us. Don’t let anyone in there either. I remember the secret knock so you’ll know that it’s us.’

'OK dude- you got it. You two be safe, damn it. You two are really my only friends,’ Jeremy replies.  

He then runs to put on some clothes and grab some supplies from the house, before running to the bunker. He gets in, shuts the door and locks it. He then sits and waits for his best friend and girlfriend to get there. 

Hours have gone by and they still have not showed up. He can’t help but think the worst. He tries to get his mind off of them by taking inventory of all of his food and water. It worked, and he gets lost in the work. He decides that he has enough food and water for a year for all three of them. Right before he’s about to finish, he hears a banging on the door and runs over. 

'Who is it?’ he yells. 

'It’s Adam and Sarah. But don’t open the door. The radiation has spread- it’s already here!’

'What- no way! I’m going to let you in!’ Jeremy yells.

'No!!’ They both say. 'You’ll let in all the radiation and we all would die. We’re going to go back to my military base and see if they can help. We’ll come back and get you whenever it’s safe. We love you, Jeremy.’

Jeremy falls to the floor crying. 'I love you guys, too.’

Silence. 

Months go by, and the pain of losing his friends begin to pass. He keeps himself busy by reading and watching movies. He can’t help but wonder what’s happening on the outside. He occasionally walks to the door and puts his ear to it, but hears nothing.

Two years have gone by and the loneliness is starting to set in pretty hard. He wants to go out but is too scared. He just sits there, thinking about his friends and wondering.

It’s about three years and his supplies are running low. He has about a week’s worth of food and water left if he rations it. Jeremy had stocked up on food and stored what couldn’t fit in his bunker, in his basement. He had a special room built that was dug into the wall with a door looked like a shelf full of junk.

He had enough food for him and his friends. But since his friends had never made it, he ended up having enough food for 3 lonely years. Just thinking of his friends makes him sad. He decided that it’s about time for him to go out of his protected bunker. Jeremy puts on his bio-hazard suit and puts the mask on. He grabs his AR 15 and pulls the slide to put a bullet in the chamber. He clicks the safety off, takes a deep breath in and exhales.

He turns the wheel and slowly opens the door. He peeks out and the outside looks clear. He swings the door open, and the sun beats down on his face, blinding him for a minute. 

Oh how he has missed the sun. He wishes that he could have spent more time outside before all this had happened. He stands there and soaks up the sunlight. He looks around and nothing has changed. He had expected the grass and trees to be dead, but looked just like it did three years ago. 

OK, Jeremy thinks, let’s get this done. I don’t know what can be out here- maybe I could be attacked by zombies. Jeremy laughs out loud at the thought of that. 

He makes his way across the yard and slowly opens the back door to his house. He raises his AR to his shoulder and checks the rooms on the bottom floor. When it’s all clear, he heads to the basement and clicks his flash light on before shining it at the door. He walks over, puts the combination in and the door clicks open. All of his supplies were still there, untouched. He starts to fill his bags up and takes the first load to his bunker. He heads back in a few more times, and finally has the last bag loaded.

Jeremy heads back upstairs and is about to leave when he passes a picture of his friend, Adam. He grabs it off the wall and throws it into his bag. He then decides to go into the living room to get a picture of Sarah. He finds one and stares at it until a tear runs down his cheek. He loved them both so much. 

He turns around and starts to head for the door when he hears a noise upstairs. He stops to listen and hears something again. He puts the picture in his bag and sets the bag by the door. He makes his way upstairs very quietly as he doesn’t know what it could be. He doesn’t want to scare it away, in case it’s a person. Hopefully they would have some news on what’s going on. Or if it’s a bad person, he doesn’t want them to have the upperhand and shoot him as he opens the door. Or, it could be an animal and if it doesn’t look sick from radiation, it would be nice to have fresh meat. 

He gets to the top of the stairs and reaches the spare bedroom. He turns the knob and slowly opens the door. He raises his rifle and steps in, before swinging to the left, then right. 

Nothing. He steps out of the room and walks to the bathroom. He looks in, and it’s empty.

He makes it to his room and hears something move. He turns the door handle and opens the door. He scans the room and sees something that looks kinda big under the blankets. 

Sweat is pouring off Jeremy’s forehead as he reaches down and grabs a handful of blankets, before quickly pulling them off. 

And he sees it. 

Jeremy stumbles back until he hits the wall. 

Adam and Sarah both sit up in the bed. Jeremy takes his gas mask off and stutters, 'What? How?' 

Adam looks at him, 'Fuck, we figured that you would have killed yourself in that bunker by now.’

'What’s going on?’ Jeremy yells. 'Have I been in that fucking bunker for the past three years for nothing?' 

Adam starts to talk, 'We had to figure a way of getting you out of our lives. We were tired of defending your sorry ass. People are always making fun of us for having the crazy-doom’s-day friend and it was embarrassing. Me and Sarah only had each other and we grew closer and fell in love. So, we came up with this end of the world thing so we could get you out of the picture. And what perfect way to do so, than your damn bunker. We figured you would have killed yourself by now.’

Jeremy pushes his body off the wall, raises his AR,  and puts a bullet into Adam’s head.

Sarah screams, 'Please, Jeremy, no! I wanted to come and tell you but Adam wouldn’t let me. Please believe me.’

Jeremy lowers the gun and walks over to Sarah. He bends over and gives her a kiss. 

'Oh, thank you, Jeremy. We can start over. We can hide his body and be together.’

Jeremy turns around, walks over, picks up his gas mask, turns around and looks at Sarah. He raises his AR and puts a bullet in Sarah’s head.

'I really wish my friend and girlfriend had survived the attack,’ he says. He puts his gas mask back on, walks downstairs, grabs his bag of supplies and walks outside. He stops and looks up at the sun.

I hope that within the next three years it’ll be safe to live out here again, he thinks. He walks back into the bunker before shutting and locking the door.

Credits to: http://hell-if-i-know13.tumblr.com/

anonymous asked:

hey omg I loved your story from tatinof! did anything more happen like what was their reaction to it?? also idk if this is too personal but I'm really curious to know more about your and peters story it sounds so cute ahh

Awww thank you! So I’ve gotten quite a few asks since I posted our tatinof story (twitter, tumblr) and I’m just going to answer this one and sortof answer a FAQ version of the other ones here, and then return to being a TV blog that talks too much about super-heroines, ok? ;)

When we told Dan and Phil our story at the M&G we just gave a really quick version of it: we just mentioned that their first collab was one of the first videos we watched together, and now we’ve been married for (almost) 4 years. :) They were really sweet about it, they said it was amazing, etc. We didn’t take up too much time really. We got together for the picture and Dan made a joking comment telling us to “be all romantic” and we just kindof did a bit of a group hug pose. They were so sweet and upbeat about it; they always seem to be so nice to fans. :)

As for me and Peter’s story: Fall 2009 we started hanging out a bit more (on campus, we went to the same university and studied in the same off-hours computer lab), and then in the spring semester (2010) he had to take an elective and the only thing that worked with his schedule (he was a super busy engineering student) was this Friday night dance class. The Monday morning following his first class he mentioned that he was one of the people in the class who didn’t have a set partner, and that the instructor said since the class had low enrollment, they could bring someone, and he asked me to go. At the time I thought he was just using me to get an A because I had done theater/dance/etc. before. Somewhere between then and when he proposed summer of 2011, I figured out he wasn’t just using me to get an A in a class he didn’t like. We got married summer of 2012, so hey, not all ships had a rough 2012… ;) 

Here are some FAQs based on what all is sitting in my ask box right now post-tatinof: 

1. Do you still watch Dan and Phil/have you kept up with them through the years/do you know their story/etc?

Yes, we have both watched them pretty regularly ever since 2009, tbh. I had watched Phil off and on since 2008 but nothing regularly til 2009 around the time they met. We still watch them together, it’s very disgustingly cheesy and cute. We’ll sit and watch a 20 minute sims video while eating dinner. I know. So gross. 

In a twist of ultimate betrayal Peter actually watched the latest sims without me and our marriage was almost canceled. 

2. Do you ship Phan/does Peter ship Phan/84 different versions of this question?

We’ve been watching them since 2009, so… (x

3. What’s your favorite video? (I only got this once, so it’s not really an FAQ but)

PINOF 1 obviously is really sentimental, both 1 & 2 honestly (love the Titanic moment in 2, in particular, it was fun seeing some vague call-backs to that in the show). 

Also I would say the Slender video (gaming channel), because that was the first one I showed to my little brother (and he’s now in love with them, it’s fine).

4. Do you have a phan account?

No, but I follow a combination of accounts that pretty well keeps me up to date on everything. I mentioned them a bit leading up to the show, but other than that: Always lurking, never posting, basically. (I post alot of TV fandom stuff)

I think you all are absolutely lovely, honestly. It’s been a wild ride seeing D&P evolve and also their fandom evolve over the years. You’re all so much more fantastic than you give yourselves credit for tbh. 

Thanks for the most fun. :)

Preference #11: He Cheats (I'm Not The Only One)

I based this off of “I’m Not The Only One” by Sam Smith. Harry’s and Zayn’s I got a little carried away. Hope ya enjoy.

Liam:

You and me, we made a vow.

For better or for worse.

I can’t believe you let me down.

I sat in the dining room looking down at my dinner. Liam was casually eating his dinner not noticing the pain I was going through. I rubbed my pregnant belly. When he would catch me crying I blamed it on the hormones but the truth is he was cheating…I’ve known since the beginning.

At first I blamed myself. I had just gotten pregnant and he had his needs but it became a pattern. I was disgusted. We were married and expecting a child, how could he cheat?

“Thanks for the dinner.” Liam smiled. “I gotta go to Nialls we’re gonna-”

“Nialls out of town…” I said causing him to freeze.

Liam scratched the back of his head, “I meant Zayn-”

“Save it.” I mumbled not even caring. “I know…about you and the girl.”

“W-what are you talking about?”

I shrugged, “It doesn’t matter. You cheated. I have a packed bag in my car and if it wasn’t for this baby, I would have left the minute I found out. Our child is growing inside of me and if that’s not enough to keep you from cheating then I don’t know if I can be with you.”

Liam started to cry, “Please (Y/N). I love you. I’m sorry, don’t leave me.” he begged.

I sat there watching him. I don’t know if it was my pregnancy or if I was just fed up but I didn’t cry or even feel sad. It was like the past weeks have escalated into hatred. The day we got married, he promised to never hurt me.

I pulled the ring off my finger and placed in on the table, “I’m leaving…You let us down, Liam.” I mumbled placing my hand on belly leaving the man who was once the love of my life.

Louis:

You say I’m crazy.

Cause you don’t think I know what you’ve done.

“Where were you?” I asked looking at the time.

It was 3 am and Louis had just got home. It’s been like this for months, I didn’t mind at first but when he started coming home with love bites and mysterious text messages throughout the day I knew. Louis plopped down on the couch beside me and shrugged.

“Been at the studio. You know we have to prepare for the new album and everything.” he lied turning on the tv.

He wasn’t at the studio matter of fact none of the boys were at the studio. I tried not to jump to conclusions but when I caught him in a lie last week I was done. He played it off like I was dumb.

“Are you lying, Louis?” I asked looking at him.

Louis rolled his eyes, “You got to stop reading those tabloids. Why would I lie? Where else would I be?”

“Are you cheating on me?” I asked studying his face. He barely flinched, instead he laughed.

“You’re crazy! You seriously need to stop with all the rumors.” he shouted throwing the remote at the wall. “Why would you even think that?”

I sighed, “Because I know, Louis.” This shut him up quickly. “I’m not crazy. Did you think I was that dumb? I noticed the first time you came home with smeared lipstick on your shirt! I don’t even know why I’m still with you!”

“Babe, I never meant to hurt you. I’m so sorry.” he apologized grabbing my hand. “I love you so much. I’m sorry.”

“You got caught! That’s the only reason why you’re sorry.” I said feeling the tears form. “How could you do this to me? I’ve done nothing but love you.”

Louis also began to cry, “Baby don’t leave me, I need you.”

“I can’t do this anymore…” I say getting up. No matter how loud he shouted after me I kept on walking. I walked out on my best friend, my lover and my world.

Niall: 

For months on end I’ve had my doubts.

Denying every tear.

I wish this would be over now.

I sat in my parked car for the last 3 hours crying my eyes out. I told Niall I was going out for a few hours but I’ve been sitting outside the house parked across the street. For months I had suspected he was cheating. He could never kiss me or look me in the eyes when he said he loved me.

I seen a girl enter our home and I was going to wait until she left to confront him but I was tired of being in denial and blaming myself. I just wanted everything to be over even if that meant that Niall and I couldn’t be together. I had put myself in so much misery for so long that I needed a break.

I entered our shared home quietly. I saw a pair of heels beside the door and discarded clothing on the floor.  I could hear them laughing coming down the stairs so I took a seat in the living room waiting for them to come down.

“That was amazing. I’ve never felt that way with anyone else-” Niall said making my heart hurt even more. He stopped once he saw me.

“Who’s this?” the blonde asked.

I laughed, “She doesn’t know she’s sleeping with a taken man?” I asked.

“Oh, so this is (Y/N).” she mumbled making the sadness turn into anger.

“So you’ve told her about me?” I nearly screamed with tears rolling down my face. “God, Niall. Why did you have to put me through this? All I’ve done was try to make you happy. Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t happy?”

Niall ran over and wrapped me into his arms as the girl got her stuff and ran out. “I’m so sorry, princess. I never meant to hurt you. Please don’t cry.” Niall whispered holding me tight. I could tell he was also crying. “I love you baby. I’m so sorry.”

I pushed him off of me. “Don’t. I can’t even look at you.” I sobbed.

“I’ll do anything. I made a mistake I’m sorry.” he begged dropping down on his knees.

“You’re making this harder for me to say goodbye.” I said kneeling down to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I love you so damn much but I can’t get hurt anymore, Niall.”

Harry:

But when you call me baby.

I know I’m not the only one.

“I can’t come home now but I’ll see you tonight, love you baby.” Harry said over the phone before quickly hanging up.

I went into my room and cried. Harry never used to call me baby, he’s been calling me baby ever since he accidentally called me my best friends name while we were getting heated a couple weeks ago. He thought I didn’t hear it but I did. At first I didn’t think much about it but whenever Harry was busy so was my best friend, after a while I got suspicious and so I followed Harry. He went to her house every night that week and when he came home he went straight to bed without saying a word to me.

I cried as I packed some of my stuff that I hid in the guest bedroom. I didn’t think I could cry this much but it was like I couldn’t stop. Of all people why did it have to be my best friend? I knew they were together right now probably having the time of their life. I gave up on the packing and went downstairs to the kitchen. I grabbed a bottle of vodka and popped it open. I got out my phone and texted the both of them that I wanted to hang out and watch a movie. Once they agreed I sat on the couch with my bottle crying my heart out. I heard the door open and the two of them came in.

“Hey.” my best friends said coming into the living room.

“Baby, why is the light off its so dark?” Harry asked turning on the light.

They both froze once they saw how big of a mess I was. They didn’t know what to do or what to say. It was like they were afraid that I had found out.

“Are you both proud?” I asked putting the bottle down. “You know, the two of you are probably the most important people in my life and to get backstabbed by the both of you…God, why?”

Harry was the first to cry then it was my best friend. “I’ve run out of tears. I’m so hurt I can’t even cry anymore.” I shook my head. “Was it worth it? Are you both happy?”

“Baby-”

“Don’t you dare call me baby!” I shouted. “You never call me baby! That’s how I knew you were cheating on me! Fuck you both! I-I can’t believe this is happening.” I sobbed, these weren’t sad tears trust me I was pissed off.

“We never meant to hurt you, (Y/N). But it just happened and when I’m with him I feel happy.” she finally spoke. I swear I’ve never been that close to killing someone.

Harry walked towards me and I threw the bottle in his direction. It hit a wall and broke causing the both of them to back away. “(Y/N) we were meaning to tell you.”

“No I get it. I wasn’t enough.” I shrugged wiping my tears. “I’ll get my things and leave the both of you alone so you can fuck up my life even more.” I said marching upstairs and getting my things.

“Please don’t be mad, we can’t help-” Harry said as I came the down the stairs.

I scoffed, “Go to hell.” I said leaving slamming the door behind me.

Zayn: 

You’ve been so unavailable.

Now I sadly know why.

Your heart is so unobtainable.  

Even though Lord knows you kept mine.

I smiled as Zayn’s parents left the house. It was our 3 year anniversary and for months Zayn and I planned a party because he insisted we needed one. Yet he was nowhere to be found, even his bandmates came. I had to lie to everyone and say that Zayn had some important meeting with management. I cleaned up everything and as I was taking out the trash I saw Zayn pull up. He smiled and gave me a hug.

“Sorry I forgot! I overslept at Danny’s.” he lied. I smiled and nodded. “So what did you tell everybody?”

“Told them that you had an important meeting with management.” I answered as the both of us walked back into our home. “So how was your day?”

I tried to listen as Zayn lie and make up some story about playing video games but all I could think about was the fact that he’s been lying for so long. It’s been months that he’s been cancelling because he’s “overslept” or “had a meeting”. I knew he was seeing Perrie again. He promised he would stop talking to her but last month it accidentally slipped out of Niall’s mouth that they’ve been texting again. It explained a lot, the more he was with Perrie the less he loved me.

“I just feel bad for missing out.” he said taking off his clothes and changing into his sweats. “I’m so tired, babe.”

“I am too, Zayn.” I sighed watching him get into bed with me.

He wrapped his arms around me and I waited for him to sleep until I could cry to myself. I loved him so much and I thought he loved me just the same. I tried to control my shaking but soon Zayn was up.

“(Y/N). Baby what’s wrong?” he asked turning on the lamp. “Was it because of tonight I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Why don’t you tell me you love me anymore?” I asked taking him by surprise. Before he could answer I stopped him. “Is it because you still love her?” I watched as his face fell. “It’s okay if you do…I just would of thought you would have told me instead of going behind my back.” I said wiping away my tears.

“How did you?…Baby I’m so sorry.” he whispered kissing my cheek. I could tell he a genuinely sorry. “Please don’t leave me. I would go mad without you. At the end of the day baby I only want you.” his voice broke making this 10x harder for me. “Please stay…I need you (Y/N)…I need you.”

I nodded and curled up into him. I know it was wrong and I shouldn’t have but I just wanted one more night with him. For the first time in months I felt loved. I woke up early in the morning, Zayn was fast asleep. I carefully wiggled out of his arms and stuffed a bunch of stuff into my suitcase. I bent down and gave Zayn a small peck on the lips. I stood there admiring him for a couple minutes before turning around and leaving because no matter how much I loved him, his heart already belonged to her.

Eh this was okay. Thanks for reading!

anonymous asked:

holy crap! fandom is gone nuts! seems like a very bad shield article came out from TCA press regarding ward. sigh. my heart is beginning to hurt over this stuff and im getting sick of not knowing where they are heading with him. your thoughts on it?

So, I saw Brett’s retweet of the zap2it article right before I left work, and read it real quick. What I will say first is, especially in the incidence of a three month hiatus, the actors and producers will do what they will to stir up conversation on social media.

Now, that being said…

I am extremely disappointed in things that were said by Clark Gregg in the article. Let’s just be fair, right now, that a good portion of the AoS fandom are people who contributed to the Coulson Lives movement. People who belonged to that movement, subsequently, upon watching the show, may have found that they became fans of Ward. I count myself as one of those people, and I know that there are others. These are people who are responsible for the fact that Coulson not only lived, but got a TV franchise, through which his alterego, Clark Gregg, makes his paycheque.

And comments that compare fans of a fictional character to followers of a real life serial killer are how he responds to those people, now that he’s done his few tours of “hey thanks for being the reason I got a regular job with Marvel, guys”.

Keep reading

Alex Gaskarth: Just Shut Up And Kiss Me

Request: Could you do a fluffy Alex Gaskarth imagine where you’re best friends and he’s your crush you are quite a bit younger than him though. You have a supernatural marathon and you start to get the feels that make you squirm and there’s a sad part and you hold his arm as time goes on you get closer and closer until you’re basically lying on him. You go into the kitchen where he holds you in his arms for a really long time and tells you he loves you and kisses and fluffy fluff!

 

A/N: This was really fun to write. :) How cute is Alex looking in the picture, by the way?!

Keep reading

comingupcait  asked:

Hi Mo! I'm quite a fan of you and your work, you are my badass TV critic idol, to say the least! I was just reading your HuffPo piece from 2011 on How To Be A TV Critic. I know my heart is in it. Any advice for a young newspaper journo and freelancer who wants to make her way as a TV critic, but is still trying to figure out just how to get there? Keep rocking ✌🏻️💜

I’ve gotten this question a number of times over the years, so I hastily wrote this. Hope it’s of some help. And now I can send folks this link when I get this question. Thank you! 

So you want to be a TV critic! All righty. Here is me interviewing myself about that. Pull up a chair and check it out. 

But first of all, Two Big Things to remember. 

My main pieces of advice are: 1. Read writers you admire and think about what you like about their work and why 2. Write as often as you can. It’s really only repetition of the act of writing that makes me better at it – maybe others have different advice, but those are my two big ones. Read a lot and write a lot. (I cribbed this from the foreword to Doris Lessing’s The Golden Notebook, which you should read. The foreword and the book itself. They’re both great, and I think about them all the time.)

1) What inspired you to pursue your career? What steps did you take to make it where you are now?

I was originally inspired to go into journalism by some traveling I did in my mid-20s. I traveled around the world for about a year, and I wrote about what I saw and experienced in journals, and I wanted to do more things like that. I never really have had a gift for fiction (though I’m writing more and more of it these days –who knew?). Anyway, after I ended the wandering, I decided to focus on non-fiction, and applied to journalism schools. 

While in j. school, I realized that I preferred feature writing to news writing, though the training I received in news writing was a terrific way to begin learning the craft. (Fun thing about the journalism school I attended: We wrote news stories [that only instructors saw] every day, and if you got even one fact wrong, you got an F on it, no matter how good the rest of the story was. No exceptions. It was a terrifying experience to get that first “F,” but that’s nothing compared to getting an angry call or email from a real, live human being whose life or career you got wrong. Check your facts, folks, and then check them again.)

After journalism school, I got a job at a public policy magazine, but I also founded a music magazine of my own (an underground “zine,” sort of the forerunner of the kind of music sites that are all over the web today. My zine was called Steve Albini Thinks We Suck, and yes, that is a fucking great name). The zine and other indie work I was doing ended up getting me a lot of work at other, bigger outlets, and my career basically grew from there and eventually I was hired by the Chicago Tribune, where after a few years in various jobs, I became the television critic (that’s the short version of that transition – basically it helped that I’d been writing about pop culture and TV a lot before I began writing about TV full-time, and it helped that I was good at Internet stuff way back in the day).

2) What does your typical work day include? What is your favorite aspect of your job?

The biggest misconception of the job is that I get to watch TV all day. I wish! A lot of my day is spent writing reviews or features or writing up interviews I’ve done, emailing or meeting with colleagues, emailing or talking to publicists and also, of course, watching some TV. However typically I only watch TV for about an hour or two per day, during the day (I watch more at night, with my husband or with my husband and son. Currently we’re re-watching Mr. Robot and it remains THE SHIT [that’s meant as the highest possible compliment]).

My two favorite parts of the job are seeing something really incredible and being able to write about that, and also, getting the chance to interview the people who make the shows I really enjoy. Both those things are a lot of fun. A little scary sometimes! But fun. 

3) What under-grad/grad schools have you attended? What was your major?

I went to Washington University in St. Louis for undergrad, and my majors were English and psychology. I received my Masters in journalism from Northwestern’s Medill School of Journalism. Go Fighting Medilldos!  

4) Are you given a lot of deadlines or are you able to work on your own time/schedule? Is your job extremely demanding/do you get time to yourself?

The deadlines I get are basically set by myself. My editors typically know what I’m working on – my pieces are typically posted around the premieres and finales of various shows, so we work out those schedules in advance. But if I change my mind and want to do something other than what we’ve talked about, my editors are flexible. We talk a lot via email, chat and now Slack. Soon we will just communicate silently through chips installed in our brains, and mostly our conversations will continue to consist of Broad City and Game of Thrones gifs. 

What can be challenging is getting a chance to give my brain downtime. There are so many networks sending press kits and episodes of new shows to critics all the time, plus there are just so many shows on the air at any one time – how do you choose which ones to focus on? That’s something that I still struggle with. It’s good to have time away from TV, because when something you do for fun (i.e., watching TV) is also your job, you need mental breaks from it. I think I’ve gotten somewhat better about taking those. I like gardening!

5) What do you know now that you wish you knew when you were first starting out?

That I should be flexible and that I would eventually learn a lot of different things, and a lot of those things are fun and challenging and help me up my game, ideally. Doing some of those things convinced me I didn’t like them (I don’t mind going on camera, but that’s not my happy place.) Anyway, I’ve shot video, edited audio, done podcasts, done various behind the scenes jobs (editor, comment wrangler, art director, photo editor). Life comes at you fast, and the media industries change faster. Be prepared to try a lot of different things. It’s great to set goals for what you want to do, but just know that where you’ll end up might be different from where you start out – and that’s OK. 

And if I had my 22 year old self in front of me, I’d say to have fun and just be open to new experiences, and I’d tell her that following my passions (writing, creating the ‘zine, loving storytelling in all forms, being an obsessive fan of music, TV and art) would end up steering me into some cool and exciting places. Definitely try to be the best version you can be of yourself, because trying to be a pretty good simulation of somebody else is bound to end in failure. There’s only one you – don’t deprive the universe of that voice. 

As for specific advice on how to get in the TV-critic game, look at the TV or pop-culture websites you like to read, contact those editors (there are usually email addresses on the sites, or be very NICE while saying hello to the relevant editors on social media and asking if they accept pitches). However you get those contact emails, use them to pitch editors with your ideas (in a concise fashion). Be prepared for the fact that every editor I know is totally overwhelmed 98 percent of the time and that if they don’t get back to you, it’s really not personal (probably! honest!). If you hear nothing, get back in touch periodically, politely, and if you get nothing over the long term, move on to the next editor/site. Or just do your own website, maybe while you’re freelancing, if you can swing that. 

The great thing about right now is that nobody can tell you not to do anything. Try stuff. Write things down. Put them in the world. Keep doing that, and of course try to get paid and/or on staff when and where you can. But while you try to do those things, you do you. If you have a thought you have to bust out RIGHT NOW, do it! Nobody’s stopping you. :) 

The other great thing about that strategy is that you can just send people to links of things you’ve already done when they ask for samples of your work. I’m not going to lie to you – it’s hard, hard, hard work to be a freelancer writing about TV. It’s very hard to make a living at it. But there’s nothing stopping you from trying. Throw up a Tumblr tonight, and get started. And send me links :)

Edited to add: I periodically retweet links I see to job listings in the media industries. Follow publications you like to try to get that kind of info. You don’t have to follow me to get those tips (but if you do follow me, for whatever reason, thanks! I also tweet cute animal photos sometimes, if that’s more your thing). In any event, media folk know how hard the game is, so many of us pass around job listings on Twitter and other social media, and publications themselves advertise that way as well. Wishing you luck! 

anonymous asked:

As a television show, sherlock is 10x better than elementary. The story is better, the adaptation of characters is better, it's cinematically better, truer to plot which is always nice, acting is better. As someone who is less than a year from going into television as a profession, i can tell you in many ways Sherlock as done a way better job with Sherlock Holmes than Elementary has. If you only gripe with it is that the fandom isn't great, don't pay attention to them. It's as simple as that!

While Sherlock does have it’s strong points (I’m not denying that it doesn’t because that would be stupid– the cinematography is phenomenal and the production value is insane, probably because they only have 3 episodes to edit and produce), I feel like, as a singular series, Elementary has done a better job at fleshing out the characters than Sherlock has.

Let’s run this character by character:

  • Sherlock: Elementary Sherlock is a viciously human character. He has glaring flaws (like drug addiction and a history of abusive relationships) that he deals with in an actual human way. BBC Sherlock is up on a pedestal: we’re meant to idolize him, not identify with him. Other than good looks and charm(??? I think he’s mostly an asshole and charming only when it suits him), BBC Sherlock has given me zero reason to be invested in his character. He is very good at his job and has many good qualities, but he treats people like shit, even his “friends”. Constant emotional manipulation is his norm. Elementary Sherlock is not 100% empathetic, but he’s developing a sense of true emotional empathy over the course of the series, which is incredible. Do you think BBC Sherlock would volunteer to be a sponsor or donate blankets to the homeless? No. He’d make an assholish comment about how it’s too much bother and how other people are idiots.
  • Watson: Ohhhh where to begin. Let’s for the sake of argument not include the fact that she’s a woc (even though that’s SO FUCKING GODDAMN IMPORTANT) and just focus on her as a character. She’s simply a more developed character than BBC Watson. She has been consistent in wanting to be a detective and giving back since day 1. She’s actually making an attempt to broaden her horizons and become a well rounded person. BBC Watson does very little, let’s be real. He follows Sherlock around and is a sounding board/insult receiver, and occasionally does something vaguely medical to remind everyone that he’s a doctor. Or a soldier. Who knows? Not me. We know he was in Afghanistan, had a sister, and is now married. That’s it. Elementary Watson volunteers at homeless shelters because her biological father is schizophrenic. She turned into a sober companion from a doctor because of paralyzing guilt. She is a caregiver, but not an enabler (constantly inflating Sherlock’s ego by reminding him of how amazing he is, etc). She is constantly not only an amazing support system for someone with a habit of drug abuse, but also a damn good detective IN HER OWN RIGHT.
  • Various supporting characters: This isn’t even a competition. BBC Sherlock has one or two recurring cast members and we know almost nothing about them (Sherlock never remember’s Lestrade’s name haha! He’s too self absorbed to even spend a thought on someone he considers a friend! Anderson likes dinosaurs! Who the fuck cares about any of them?? No one! We know virtually NOTHING about them other than what fandom has invented). Elementary has Marcus Bell, a skilled detective who has a brother and was framed for murder by his ex-girlfriend, and has a really fabulous ongoing storyline where he got shot and it was Sherlock’s fault, and they are dealing with the healing of their relationship in a COMPLETELY REALISTIC WAY. No one’s saying, “Oh, we have to forgive him because he’s just Sherlock and that’s how he is,” and Sherlock’s not saying “Oh, it’s fine, he’ll get over it,” he ACTUALLY CARES. They also have Thomas Gregson, a not-cardboard-cutout of an old white police captain who has an actual reason to trust Sherlock (because they’ve worked together before). He has a wife and children. Does Lestrade have children? A girlfriend? We don’t know! We see five minutes of him an episode and then he’s never spoken about again! Half of the shit we know about these characters the fandom made up!
  • Then there’s the background cast, like the members of Sherlock’s homeless network whose NAMES WE ACTUALLY KNOW AND GET TO SEE, the young man he’s sponsoring as part of his AA program, JAMIE MORIARTY WHO IS THE MOST FLAWLESS VILLAIN TO EVER GRACE TV IN YEARS, and a bunch of others I can’t think of right now because I’m so tired but I just can’t sleep.
  • Oh yeah and let’s not forget the SHERLOCK WATSON RELATIONSHIP, which wasn’t haphazardly slapped together with no explanation from episode one, but was built up realistically over the whole first half of a season. They had an arc. They built up trust over time. It’s so fucking important to have that in a story. It’s impossible to have that kind of development in BBC Sherlock, because they’re flash over substance. They like looking shiny and stirring up a buzz over whateverthefuck they’re doing this week, but at the end there’s no real development. No one comes away any different or changes. It’s a flashy story, that’s all.

The point is, I can watch BBC Sherlock and be entertained for an hour and a half, then turn it off and not care. About any of them. Because they don’t give me a real reason to be invested. They portray them as interesting, slap on a few jokes and dry humor (I’m not even going to touch the blatant misogyny in some episodes because it’ll just turn into Moffat wank and no one has time for that especially me), and I’ll enjoy watching it, but that’s it. I watch out of habit, not any genuine affection. And that’s not great.

Theology for Beginners, Chapter 15: If You Can Find Me, I'm Here

Here we are again! Thank you for all the feedback and the reblogs, they mean a lot to me. This chapter gets a bit angsty towards the end… And there are only three or four chapters left until the story is finished. Just a bit of patience!

Link to previous chapter

Leah’s fork fell on her plate with an audible clink, a bit muffled by the ambient noise in the restaurant. She reached for her wine glass and gulped its contents, forgetting that it contained mineral water instead of Chianti.

Across the table, Jane Foster let out an exasperated sigh. “Don’t tell me you were expecting me to be a man.”

“No, of course I knew you were a woman, I’ve read your file. But there was no picture; I was imagining someone older than me, at least. When did you have time to get three doctorates? Are you a prodigy or something?”

“Astrophysics is my life’s passion, and I take my work very seriously.” Jane stared at the woman in front of her, as if trying to decide the best way to continue the conversation. “Look, Nancy…”

“Call me that again and I swear to God I’ll get up and leave.”

“Fine, I’m just going to start the conversation again”, said the scientist, trying not to respond to Leah’s tantrum. “Leah. Let’s order some food and discuss the situation in a civilized way, okay? If what Tony Stark told me on his emails is right, we’re talking about opening an interdimensional portal and send you through it. It has been done before, the first time Thor was on Earth, but he’s not available now and this is going to need very precise calculations… and a lot of expensive equipment that Stark has very kindly loaned to me. It will be dangerous. And it will take a few weeks for me to assemble the machinery and finish my calculations, so in the meantime I suggest that you ignore my age and lend me a hand. Deal?”

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