i'm not particularly happy with this one

This is inspired by all of the cute girls who come into my coffee shop and make me flustered for no good reason.

stan the man and mike fall in love and become an iconic power couple, sorry i don’t make the rules:

-they initially bond over their mutual fear of disappointing their fathers (or grandfather) and once the bond is made, it’s unbreakable

-stan will often come over and the two boys will just lie on the grass behind the barn and make up stories to take their minds off of whatever’s going on thats upsetting one or the other  

-their first kiss is when they’re on the grass and stan is rambling off a story about an animal ghost town living among them, mocking their human ways, when mike put his hand in stan’s hair and leaned in

-stan was frozen for about five seconds and mike was just about to pull away when he felt a hand on his face and insistent lips on his own

-they become inseparable after that, and it doesn’t take too long for the rest of the losers to find out

-richie is the first to find out. he will go to his grave insisting that “his gaydar is the high quality shit” but really he saw them holding hands at one of the losers club movie nights

-eddie is next because “guys you have to let me tell eddie! he’s gonna be so psyched that we’re not the only couple in the group! please please plea-” 

-they tell the rest of the club and no one is particularly surprised. everyones happy they’re happy

-they are definitely the Old Married Couple, everyone comes to them for advice

-stan brings out the snark in an otherwise quiet mike and mike brings out the soft in an otherwise rigid stan. the losers club is shook when they see how soft stan is around mike 

-they’re just totally in love and fully respect and understand each other?? 


Every human that falls down here meets the same fate. I have seen it again and again. They come. They leave. They die. You naive child… If you leave the Ruins… They… ASGORE… will kill you. I am only protecting you, do you understand?

Undertale (2015)


Read on AO3

Alright, this is my second (my apology gift, really, it’s over 5000 words of fluff) for Shay, in which I attempt to tackle one of her favorite tropes (characters A and B have to stay at a hotel and there’s only one room with one bed)

once again - thanks to @the-musical-alchemist​ for listening to me flip out about how to write this, I appreciate it always, Gio ;-;

I said it already, but I’ll say it again - Shay, you’re one of the greatest people I’ve ever met, simply because of who you are - you’re always kind, passionate, thoughtful, and are extremely talented and witty.  In short, you’re just incredibly wonderful.  Thank you so much for being you, and have the happiest birthday possible.  Hey, now you can rent a car and come visit me!!!

“Are you kidding me,” Roy grumbles, tightening his grasp on his small bag as he stomps his snow-packed boots on the porch of the building.  “Of course Grumman sends us to the most remote town, in the dead of winter, splits up our team, and gets us reservations in what has to be the absolute filthiest looking place I’ve ever seen.”

“Relax, sir,” Riza responds.  She flexes her frozen hands to try to regain feeling in her numb fingertips as she switches her bag from left to right.  “You’ve seen the rest of this town; the entire place just doesn’t have a lot of money.  I’m sure the inside is nicer.”

“Whatever you say, Captain,” he retorts.  Riza sighs at his snarky-tone, but doesn’t challenge him, knowing that the last thing that she needed was to argue with her superior officer when they were both cold, hungry, and exhausted.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

You know, being a fan of this band, and particularly a Larrie, is so mind bending. To simultaneously be so, so, so proud and happy for one person. And pissed and frustrated for another. To be so fucking livid that Sony will let one artist have the freedom to be loving and supportive and inclusive, while painting another of its artists (and the first artist’s band mate and partner no less) as a volatile homophobe and isolate them from their community, is just a fucking trip. You know? Wild.

Comparing their closets isn’t something that I’m going to do. Gay men are not a monolith and do not have the same experience. Signaling doesn’t always look the same. And I’m not going to pretend it does.

I will say that Harry’s ability to dance with rainbow flags has always stemmed from how deeply he’s been marketed as a womanizing sex symbol since he was SIXTEEN YEARS OLD. Watch the response to the Harry with flags across the fandom, it varies from He’s Signaling (from LGBTQ+ fans) to look he’s an ally (straight fans who also hope secretly he’s not gay). This range exists because they did their job so significantly that even rainbow flags don’t make the GP think he’s gay.

Louis, on the other hand, presents in a way that without a beard and a baby people think he’s gay. But because of that beard and baby combined with being less recognizable, he can go to gay clubs and people don’t think anything of it. He’s also out there modeling Polari clothing being subtly subversive as always.

It’s deeply frustrating as a fan of both of them to watch but their teams, Jeff, Sony, etc are all just scapegoats so that people don’t have to interrogate larger scale homophobia. The industry is upholding a something much larger. The difference between Harry and Louis’s closet is a structural problem and focusing on how unfair it is on a micro level is ignoring that bigger picture.


[Hogwarts Houses as Disneyland Attractions] Aesthetic

Gryffindor (Star Tours) // Hufflepuff (Enchanted Tiki Room)

Ravenclaw (Peter Pan’s Flight) // Slytherin (Haunted Mansion)

anonymous asked:

What do you think GRRM is getting at with how distant and opaque Myrcella is as a character? Are we to reflect on how this child is objectified? Is it there to show how Cersei digs her children's graves? His character stuff is normally so good that when he writes one seemingly just to serve a function in the plot and the arcs of others it really stands out, and not in a flattering way. I hope I'm wrong and there's more to it than "very tragic, Cersei so foolish".

I don’t think Myrcella is particularly distant or opaque, though? I mean, we don’t see her extremely often, but I can appreciate the little facets of her character that we do see.

After all, she is certainly happy to hear that Bran would survive his fall:

“Why, only that Tommen may get his wish. The maester thinks the boy may yet live.” He took a sip of beer.

Myrcella gave a happy gasp[.]

Tyrion chewed thoughtfully for a moment and said, “He thinks that if the boy were going to die, he would have done so already. It has been four days with no change.”

“Will Bran get better, Uncle?” little Myrcella asked.

She’s afraid for Tommen when he’s knocked down at Joffrey’s ragtag tourney:

Tommen spilled from the saddle, his new armor rattling like a bag of old pots as he hit the ground. His sword went flying, his pony cantered away across the bailey, and a great gale of derision went up. King Joffrey laughed longest and loudest of all.

“Oh,” Princess Myrcella cried. She scrambled out of the box and ran to her little brother.

She’s clearly fond of her Uncle Tyrion:

Myrcella came running after her brother, and the dwarf picked her up by the waist and spun her in a circle, squealing.

The little man gave the big one a look. One of his eyes was green, one was black, and both were cool. “I was speaking to the king, not to his cur.”

“I’m glad you’re not dead,” said Princess Myrcella.

She has a sweet little crush on Robb during her time at Winterfell:

Jon noticed the shy looks she gave Robb as they passed between the tables and the timid way she smiled at him.

Bran and his brothers and sisters sat with the king’s children, Joffrey and Tommen and Princess Myrcella, who’d spent the whole meal gazing at Robb with adoring eyes.

She’s kind to Tommen when she leaves for Dorne, even though the process is certainly not easy for her emotionally:

To be sure, her smile was a shade tremulous when her brothers took their leave of her on the deck of the Seaswift, but the girl knew the proper words to say, and she said them with courage and dignity. When the time came to part, it was Prince Tommen who cried, and Myrcella who gave him comfort.

And she has one of the funniest lines in ACOK, perhaps the whole series:

“Mother said,” mocked the king. “Don’t be childish.”

“We’re children,” Myrcella declared haughtily. “We’re supposed to be childish.”

And all of that is before we see her again in “The Queenmaker”. So, I wouldn’t say Myrcella is too opaque or merely plot functional; she definitely has a personality, and her death (and she’s definitely dead) will be no less a tragedy for it.

sceptiqueveille  asked:

how about a continuation of that coffee shop au with barista!Grantaire? it was very silly, but i enjoyed it very much. if that's not particularly inspiring, i'm completely delighted by the way you write Grantaire's friendship with Joly and Bossuet, and i'm still not over Bossuet translating R's speech for Enjolras's benefit in that one ficlet, so i'd love more stuff about J/B being Grantaire-whisperers. finally, a very happy birthday to you! your blog is one of the best things on tumblr

Coffee shop AU it is! Previous ficbit here.

Grantaire was talking with another customer when Enjolras came in, smiling and laughing and gesticulating wildy.

Enjolras didn’t mind that Grantaire was busy. The customer seemed to be talking and laughing back – doubtless someone with interests that matched Grantaire’s own. Enjolras checked his watch and absolutely did not scowl at it. He stayed near the doorway carefully examining available tables until the customer was gone.

“Fiat lux!” Grantaire proclaimed as Enjolras approached the counter. “Et ecce homo, to mix testaments. Behold, the man, and it was good. What can I make you today, oh light, oh man?”

“Coffee,” said Enjolras. It was the same answer he gave every morning, for lack of a better one. He’d gone home the first day after drinking Grantaire’s coffee and found himself searching for articles on coffee roasts and types of beans. He’d emerged with nothing to show for it. The words simply meant nothing to him.

They meant nothing when Grantaire said them too, but they were pleasant to hear all the same.

Grantaire produced a drink with a theatrical flourish. “You were late this morning, so I started without you. I even anticipated your order! A smooth, medium roast, with a dash of cream and seasonal spices to complement the natural nutty flavor. Against my better judgment, I have included a drop of honey. Yesterday you complained-”


“Yesterday, you stated that your drink was bitter, and I have taken your words to heart. A confusing signal, I grant, from a man I have personally seen drinking instant coffee black-” Grantaire mimed disgust and pain with perfect comic flair, and Enjolras couldn’t help a slight smile, “but I persevere in the face of adversity. Yesterday your coffee was bitter, and as a true student of Aristotle today I have corrected towards sweet.”

Yesterday Grantaire had waved towards a pretty girl as he handed Enjolras his drink, and blown her an exaggerated kiss. Enjolras supposed his coffee had been bitter; he couldn’t really say.

Today Grantaire was smiling at him, a lopsided grin that lit up his face and made his eyes sparkle. His hair was disorderly, his nose crooked, his skin blotchy. Enjolras thought his smile might be the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Yes,” he said, after a sip he couldn’t remember tasting. “It’s sweet.”

owlsarereallycute  asked:

Hai! First I wanna say I'm going to enjoy your blog, there's not a lot of DA imagine blogs out there. Second, Could I get the DAO companions reacting to the warden adopting a baby dragon? Thank you!

(Thank you!!! Dragons are always fun~)

Alistair: “Oh no. No no no no no, you are NOT keeping that.” Not a happy camper, but if the Warden is particularly good at puppy dog eyes, he might begrudgingly give in. Might.

Morrigan: “’Tis not what I would have chosen for a pet…” not entirely thrilled with the idea, but if the dragon is particularly tame, one might catch her feeding it scraps from her dinner, and if you’re really lucky, you might even see a hint of a smile on her face while she’s doing so.

Leliana: Tries to grin and bear it, but is about as excited as Alistair if truth be told. After a time she might start to consider getting a nice collar for it, if dragon collars are even made… maybe something with a nice trim…

Sten: Qunari admire dragons, but not that much. He’ll express his discontent once, but wont comment about it after that. You totally didn’t see him playing with it earlier, nope (ps, you absolutely did.)

Wynne: Absolutely not. Why would the Warden even consider this. No, those eyes will not work on her. …alright, fine, keep it for a week and see where it gets them. Tend to any burns or bites with an “I told you so” look about her.

Zevran: For once, he’s speechless. He and Leliana share a look that says “The Warden is my dear friend, but they are also a complete idiot sometimes.”

Oghren: “I’m not drunk enough for this. If it sets my beard on fire, its getting roasted on the spit. What do dragons even taste like, anyway?” Not a big fan of the decision, but as long as it doesn’t get too close to him, there isn’t much he can do about it.

Loghain: Fereldens hold mabari to the highest degree. Dragons are not dogs. He doesn’t like this at all.

Dog: New friend? Bitey friend. Maybe not a friend if it keeps spitting fire.

anonymous asked:

Hello! I was wondering if I could ask you a question about something I noticed in post 136427994491 (and in tradition Chinese photography in general). I've noticed that there are sometimes a red marking on a women's forehead. Do these markings mean anything? I'm particularly curious about the one that looks like a flower and the ones that are a dot

Hi, of course I’m happy to answer your question!

The forehead markings are called “huadian/花鈿", and they are a purely ornamental type of accessory that was most popular during the Tang Dynasty. Huadian came in a variety of colors (red, green, yellow - but mostly red), shapes (flowers/petals, animals - birds/fish, etc.), and materials (paint, paper, gold, pearls, petals, fish bones, seashells, feathers, etc.). Nowadays it is usually painted on/a temporary tattoo. Fouryearsofshades has a write-up on huadian here. Below - historical huadian:

Huadian can be worn on the cheeks, as seen in the two left pictures in the 2nd row above - these are called mianye/面靥 or xiaoye/笑靥. They usually took the form of a dimple about one centimeter from each side of the lips, and came in a variety of shapes, including coins, peaches, birds, and flowers.

There is a legend about the origin of huadian, recounted by Hua Mei in the book Chinese Clothing (pdf):

“The Huadian or forehead decoration was said to have originated in the South Dynasty, when the Shouyang Princess was taking a walk in the palace in early spring and a light breeze brought a plum blossom onto her forehead. The plum blossom for some reason could not be washed off or removed in any way. Fortunately, it looked beautiful on her, and all of a sudden became all the rage among the girls of the commoners. It is therefore called the “Shouyang makeup” or the “plum blossom makeup.” This makeup was popular among the women for a long time in the Tang and Song Dynasties.”

The flower/petal shapes typically represent the plum blossom. I’m not sure if the dot represents anything significant, besides being a common shape.

Below - actresses wearing huadian and mianye in film/tv:

Hope this helps! :)

norageonlypancakes  asked:

Fenris/M!hawke and "give me a hand" for that prompt meme? Give me some fluff, I'm starving. Thank you.

Fluuuuuuff ^_^ happy to provide

Hawke hears the door to the estate open and close and eyes the battle before him. It must be Fenris entering; no one else takes the time to close the door politely. The rest of his heathens-for-friends simply let it bang shut and have that be their greeting as they wander into his home. Not that he minds particularly, since he likes being able to distinguish between Fenris and the other rabble. He re-grips his knife and calls out to Fenris, directing him further into the estate. Fenris will save him.

When Fenris reaches the door to the kitchen, he stops cold. Hawke doesn’t blame him; he’d done the same thing when Bodahn had initially brought him over here. There are literal mountains of food on the table, meats and cheeses and vegetables and breads, most of them balanced precariously on serving platters and in dishes, but some of them have succumbed to the inexorable slide and puddled and dripped onto the large, rough-wood table that Hawke prefers to eat at rather than the larger dining room table through the kitchen’s other door.

“What…is all this?” Fenris asks, finally unstrapping his greatsword from his back. He leans it against the wall and raises an eyebrow at Hawke, who leans back from the table, a pained expression on his face.

“Orana made lunch.”

Fenris blinks. “It is hours past—” He breaks off as Hawke’s eyes widen, comically so, and snickers softly, padding farther into the kitchen to evaluate the table of food from a different angle. “I see. You are hopeless, Hawke.”

Hawke scowls, hunching back over the table. “I’m trying to be considerate, Fenris.” The elf chuckles again.

“Somehow I doubt you expiring from her cooking will make Orana feel particularly good. She is used to cooking for a larger household; learning she no longer needs to feed so many will take time.”

Fenris sits on the bench next to Hawke, his back to the table, and carefully places one gauntleted hand over Hawke’s. Hawke squeezes tighter around his fork then lets it go with a sigh, letting Fenris drag his hand away from the food he still has piled on his plate. He’ll never understand how Fenris can do it, but the elf tenderly gathers Hawke’s hand into his and brings it to his lips, kissing the scarred knuckles, without so much as a scratch to Hawke from this wicked points

He smiles, setting Hawke’s hand down again, and stands. “I will tell Orana, then we can be going to the Hanged Man.”

Hawke groans at the thought of drinking the yeast-infested brew Corff insists on calling beer and shuts his eyes tight. The kitchen is silent for several long minutes, during which Hawke employs all of his considerable stubbornness toward ignoring the food sitting in front of him, and the only indication Fenris has returned is a soft hand on his back.

“Shall we?”

“Give me a hand,” Hawke says, holding one out to Fenris. “Not sure I can stand on my own.”

Fenris takes his hand, smirks, and bows over it. “Serrah.” Hawke huffs and rolls his eyes. Fenris uses that as his cue to haul Hawke off the bench, holding him up as he nearly topples over. Hawke leans heavily on Fenris as they make their way to the door, and though he insists on bringing his own sword and putting on his armor, he does acquiesce to a lighter suit than his Champion plate.

“I hope we are not beset by brigands,” Fenris comments drily as they step through the Hightown square. Hawke, though slow, walks under his own power, and he grins over at Fenris.

“You’ll save me,” he says.

Fenris smiles fondly at him. “If I must.”


(most of) the men of black sails + name meanings (according to urban dictionary) (insp)(cap credit)

the ladies

Here’s another snippet from the “You’ll be Back” animatic!!!! Sorry this one’s from right smack dab in the middle! I’m gonna have to redraw a whole lot of it because of different ideas!! But I really wanted to share this part because it was one of my favorites to do!! It takes place after some particularly painful memories… And thank you so so so much for the amazing response on the first part!! All the sweet (and hilarious!) things people had to saw really brightened up my whole day! OH AND DID YA CATCH THE JOKE IN THERE AAAAYYEEEE

anonymous asked:

“Who gave you that black eye?” + jeremwood? --ryanthepowerbottomguy

Nick buddy pal my dude I hope you enjoy

“Hey, Rye.” Jeremy called out happily.

Ryan looked up from the show he was watching – some mindless soap opera in a language he didn’t actually understand but for some reason he was incredibly invested in – and smiled at his boyfriend walking in.

When Jeremy got closer, Ryan’s smile dropped and his own greeting died on his lips, rapidly replaced with a very concerned, “Jesus fucking Christ, Jeremy.”

Jeremy tried to give him a sheepish grin but the action only made him wince.

Ryan have a long-suffering sigh, rubbing a hand down his tired face. He patted the spot next to him expectantly.

“Alright, who gave you that black eye?

Before Jeremy could answer, Ryan caught sight of Gavin walking by quickly, sporting a similar bruise and dried blood trailing from what looked like a very broken nose.

Ryan looked back at Jeremy and sighed again, because, really, he should have guessed.

“What The fuck did you guys even do while you were out?”

“The less you know is probably for the better, honestly.” Jeremy shrugged.

Ryan didn’t have an argument for that one. Still…

“Y’know,” he started, “when they say an eye for an eye, they generally don’t mean it quite so literal.” Ryan laughed at Jeremy’s pout.

“Mistakes were made, alright? Mistakes. Were. Made.”