i've actually been doing this for hours but then i got distracted

luluwritesthings  asked:

okay because I had a moment earlier: Shiro getting intrusive thoughts like 'what if I just broke this' bcs sometimes he truly doesn't know his strength so every once in a while somebody from the team walks in and sees Shiro like bending a spoon with his teeth and that's kind of hard to explain away

Honestly, I’ll bet he absolutely gets those kinds of thoughts a lot.  And in Shiro’s case, with no previous idea that could happen, it’d have to freak him the hell out.  Why does he suddenly want to hurt things?  What’s lurking in his head?  Was it something Haggar put in there?  

So Shiro keeps it to himself, and for the most part it’s not a huge problem.  Shiro’s always been just a bit distractable in his head anyway, with the tendency to chase after a random question when the situation isn’t dire enough to require his full concentration.  The tendency makes living with aliens a bit harder than necessary (Shiro once spent an hour in the system trying to figure out if Alteans sneezed, when Coran nearly started out of his chair when Hunk did it).  But it makes him a bit more immune to the random impulses, even when they persist.  They push at him, tug at his mind, what if what if what if, and Shiro tries to distract himself with what’s actually important.

But some days are harder than others, and there are times when Shiro just…slips.

Unfortunately, the Galra arm makes it really easy to succeed.

Shiro snaps silverware from his snacks pretty often.  Luckily, there are tons of it, made for huge royal parties, so a few missing hasn’t mattered yet.  Once, he stabbed a fork into a cutting board so hard that the had to physically climb onto the counter to get it back out.  Another time, he just snapped a pad in half in his room.  No reason, there was nothing bothering him on the screen.  Just ‘can I? can I?  What if I…?’ and it was in pieces.  

The worst impulses are ‘what would the Galra arm do to that?’.  Those, Shiro is best at keeping down, because activating the arm takes more thought and effort than just using it’s strength, so there’s a bigger hurdle to actually doing it.  But there are a few cushions on the couch that were hastily flipped upside down, and one wall in his room has a gouge that hopefully he’ll never have to explain.

Shiro managed to hide it all.  For months, no one had any idea, because Shiro desperately wanted to keep it from them.  What would they say, if they knew what Shiro really was like?  If they saw how destructive he was?  Everything that wouldn’t be missed, Shiro threw into a closet in his room.  Everything that would be was rearranged.  And he knows it’s from his time with the Galra.  He knows it.  It’s about collection weapons, it’s about knowing the destructive potential of his arm, it’s about being able to make a dent on his environment, being able to change it.  He’s vicious.  Shiro can’t let them know that.

Until he slips in front of them.

At lunch, Shiro looked at the fork in his hand and thought ‘can I?’

The thought nags, pushes at his brain, scratches his mind with urgency until Shiro gave in. His right thumb pressed against it, heating it up.  Then he jammed the fork against the edge of the table, hard enough for the red-hot tongs to twist together into one sharp point.

Shiro tilted his his head, considering, before he blinked himself back into awareness.

The whole room was staring at him.

“Was there something wrong with that fork?” Pidge asked, brow furrowed.  

Oh no.

Most of the gazes were confused, and Shiro could deal with that.  Shiro could work with that.

But he saw dawning comprehension on Hunk’s face, and Shiro’s stomach dropped to his feet.  “I’m sorry, I need to-”  He was giving up the game, he was giving himself away, he should smile and come up with some kind of distracting excuse, but the knowledge in Hunk’s eyes is killing him.  

So instead Shiro ran out.

Later, there was a knock, and Shiro opened it, already knowing it was Hunk.  This confrontation needed to happen, but at least it wasn’t in front of the others.

But it was just as well he got chewed out for it.  Rightfully.  What business did he have, acting like he wasn’t not dangerous?

Except Hunk asks something about intrusive thoughts, and Shiro has no idea what that is.

So Hunk explains, and the whole time Shiro felt like he was about to fall over.

It’s not that he’s broken, it’s not that he was reformed, it’s not any of the things Sendak said to him.  It’s part of the human brain, part of anxiety, a compulsion.  Something that it’s not just him.

It’s not just him.

Shiro nods into Hunk’s shoulder, accepts the hugs and soft reassurances, repeats to himself that he’s not wrong, he’s not twisted, he’s not bad.  He reluctantly let’s Hunk help clean out the closet full of broken items, tries not to wince too badly at every reminder.

It doesn’t really help, when the thoughts are screaming at him.

It does help when he’s picking up the pieces after.

anonymous asked:

I've low-key got this HC that Mikael and Yousef call each other cute boy all the time after the comment Yousef's actor left 👀👀 Could you write something about it please I'm dying

this turned into something way more rambly than i intended to i apologise but these two kill me OKAY SO:

the first time yousef calls mikael ‘cute boy’, it’s before they started going out; before their first kiss, their first date, their first…well, their first anything. they’re in the little bit before any of that; where they’re sharing lingering looks, shy smiles, nervous laughter. and they’re always looking desperately for excuses to spend time with one another. 

which is how they ended up here. yousef asked mikael if mikael could come over and help him study, because he’s been struggling with maths and he knows it’s a subject mikael is really good at (okay, so yousef is low-key doing just fine in maths, and he probably doesn’t need any help but. you know.). 

and the thing is, mikael can concentrate for hours. he gets immersed in his work, quietly engrossed in it all, but yousef…he’s easily distracted at the best of times, but he can’t concentrate on much at all when mikael’s around. and he’s staring, a lot; resting his chin on his hand, arm leant on the table, just looking at mikael, whose brows are furrowed in concentration as he teases a pencil between his teeth, using his fingers to add up the answer to an equation they’ve been stuck on for the last ten minutes. his hair is tucked behind his ears kind of messily, all sticking out at various angles and yousef just thinks that mikael is so. darn. cute. 

and then mikael catches yousef staring. yousef isn’t really embarrassed - he’s caught mikael staring at him a thousand times before too - and besides, neither of them really get embarrassed around each other. not really. 

but right now, because they’re still so in awe of each other and not quite there yet, they still get nervous around each other. so mikael lets out this kind of shy laugh; he takes his pencil out of his mouth and tucks it behind his ear, still looking at yousef. and yousef is just going to explode from it all and honestly, it’s a little embarrassing how neither of them can suppress their smiles when they’re around each other.

“what?” mikael asks, grinning.

yousef is grinning too; wide like an idiot. “nothing,” he says. he cocks his head, folding his arms over his chest, sitting back in his chair, eyes still locked on mikael. “you’re just cute, that’s all.”

and well, mikael doesn’t really know how to respond other than raising his eyebrows and saying, “cute? cute?” 

“yeah, cute,” yousef says confidently. 

and mikael just. kind of gets ridiculously red and can’t stop smiling, but he’s not actually saying anything. just lets the smile grow bigger and bigger until a laugh bubbles out of him, shaking his head in disbelief.

“we should get back to the question,” mikael says, and he goes to tuck some stray bits of hair behind his ear but he forgets he already put his pencil there, and he knocks it to the floor, and they both reach for it at once and it’s such a cliche movie moment - like seriously, mikael half expects even to come out with a camera or something - but yousef moves forward even more, and says, “don’t worry, cute boy, i’ve got it,” as he picks the pencil up and hands it back to mikael.

and mikael just. sits back. tucks his hair behind his ear again - yousef will soon learn that that’s something mikael does when he’s nervous and doesn’t know what to do with his hands - and he stutters out a little laugh. and yousef would quite like to record that laugh and keep it playing in his mind for hours. 

instead, though, he pulls his chair so it’s closer to mikael’s - like, really close, so their shoulders and knees are touching - and they start up their work again. but this time it’s mikael who is distracted; he folds his arms, breathing a little heavier - or maybe it’s just because they’re sat so close together now, so his breathing just seems louder - but yousef can feel mikael’s eyes on him. and he just smiles to himself, then smiles at mikael, too, and then they lean in even closer over their homework, heads millimetres away from touching, and okay, yes, they were originally working on two separate sheets of paper, but neither of them are going to move now. because this closeness is something they could both get used to. something that, very soon, they’ll experience a lot more of. but right now, it’s still nervous smiles and lingering touches, and quickening heartbeats when they see each other. 

and that’s kind of perfect, too.

anonymous asked:

So apparently when E and D entered the library, a girl heard one say to the other, "Are you still with me? We're still gonna do this, right?". I've wondered who was the one to say it and i wondered your opinion on who it was? (I love your blog so much btw)

Lisa Kreutz’ (page 62 of the 11k) account: The boys entered the library and started yelling then and one said something about blowing up the library. She heard an explosion inside the library then and she heard one of the gunmen say that they hated the school and that the school had messed them up. Then the shooting began inside the library, setting the fire alarm off. The girls pulled the chairs in closer to the table to hide behind but that didn’t stop the bullets when [Dylan Klebold] began to shoot under their table. Lisa’s right wrist was grazed by a stray bullet. She heard the “Do you believe in God?” exchange between Valeen Schnurr, which occurred about the same time that [Dylan] fired again under the table where Lisa was still hiding. She was hit several times, sustaining multiple gunshot wounds to shoulder, hand and both arms. She lay bleeding in the library for 2 1/2 hours, unable to move due to the severity of her injuries, before she was rescued by officials on scene. She was the last survivor to be pulled from the library.

When the shooters entered the library she heard one say: “Are you still with me? We’re still gonna do this, right?” 

Which time the shooters entered the library- that is, when her mind recalls she heard this -  is key.  

Which boy said this really is hinged on when Lisa Kreutz actually heard the alleged question and whether her recall of precisely when she heard this is correct.  If Lisa had heard one of them say this at the start of the library massacre, while the boys were first approaching the library doors, then I believe that Eric was asking Dylan for reassurance that he was still on board with the ‘make it up as we go along Plan B’ - to continue on with their KMFDM agenda to shoot, kill, maim classmates trapped in the library. This would’ve been before Eric had broke his nose and so he would’ve still been very enthusiastic and pumped up, thirsty for kills and revenge, in addition to the mere taste of it they got outside with some potshots at students on the school grounds.   Upon entering the school, they’d stalled and dicked around in the hallway by shooting and throwing pipe bombs at lockers and walls and randomly shooting at fleeing students in an ineffective free-for-all manner. The two even separated a good bit of time. Dylan killed no one in the hall, Eric killed Dave Sanders.  So, Eric was ready to head into that library and take revenge up close and in a personal way.  Was Dylan ready for this?  Eric had to be sure he was ready for the next level of destruction that was left up to them to accomplish since the bombs hadn’t yet gone off, and might never.

Since, Lisa was heavily wounded and remained in the library somewhere near  an unconscious Patrick Ireland the entire time after all the other students fled, her recall may have been hazy as to when exactly this alleged question was posed. It’s quite possible that it occurred when the boys returned for the very last time to the library.  By then, their mindset had become more distracted and aimless after failing to make the bombs go off in the Commons.  The blood lust against classmates had fizzled and committing suicide was rapidly becoming forefront in their minds since the cops were now closing in.  If the alleged discussion had occurred the second time, the last time, they ventured to the library, I believe Dylan would have asked Eric for reassurance that he too was committed to the act of suicide because this is what Dylan wanted most of all out of that entire day.  Oh sure, the rest was the ‘have fun!’ journey but the end was his destination he so longed for.  

I do believe that Eric may have been hesitant to commit suicide at some point or another, since he was seen to be remorseful on the Basement tape videos made two and a half weeks before the incident, and in their final testament video, Eric was seen to be saying how much he would miss his boss, Bob, at Blackjack, how he would miss some special people, how he wished he could go back to Michigan and see some old friends first, and how he knew his parents would be so hurtful, and his statement of “to everyone I love, I’m sorry about all this” or something to that similar affect. Dylan, on the other hand, was on a suicide mission from the very beginning, and made his suicide a key point in NBK, more than a year prior to the incident. Eric had also wrote that he and Dylan could escape after the incident, and destroy as much as possible, move to Mexico or an island where Americans couldn’t find them, or hijack and crash a plane into New York City afterwards. His alternative exits may have been wildly far fetched fantasy but it equates to a certain amount of disbelief and hesitation that NBK was a revenge mission which could only end unequivocally in suicide - either romantically by cop as he envisioned - or by their own hand.  At the point they made their way back up to the library, Eric would have had to rapidly come to the terms that he would have to do the job for himself in their failed mission.  Even though Eric knew that he wouldn’t live after the incident, and that he eventually would go ahead and commit suicide, he didn’t make his own suicide a key part of the event, something that was absolutely necessary, while Dylan did.  It’s not likely that Dylan would have been the one to have ideas of backing out since it was his utmost goal to complete NBK for the reward of freedom that awaited him.

Anyway, that’s my take! Glad you enjoy E-C. :) 

anonymous asked:

I've never actually sent a prompt before so forgive me if I'm not following some kind of protocol haha. Anyways, I have this headcanon hard-on for Jesus calling Daryl 'angel.' Like, it starts off as Jesus just being a little shit because 'haha, Jesus' angel' , but it evolves into Daryl actually enjoying the nickname and Jesus meaning it as a true term of endearment. Love your blog btw! <3

“Hey, Angel. Come look at this,” Daryl scowled when he heard Jesus call to him from a few feet over. He stood up from where he was setting an animal trap and turned toward the man kneeling in the dirt.

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that. It ain’t funny,” Daryl said as he stomped over to Jesus. When he got close enough he saw what Jesus was looking at. It was a small nest of what used to be living baby rabbits. Daryl saw one squirm a bit and frowned. One out of six was still fighting. Daryl assumed the mother must have gotten killed or eaten by damn walkers.

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Not Ready

Marinette is pregnant.  It was an accident, a late night at a club where she got drunk and went home with someone, but it’s still there.  She’s pregnant.  At least according to the seventeen pregnancy tests she took.  Alya’s away, and Hawkmoth seems to be on vacation, so she’s not able to talk to anyone until after she’s been to the doctor to confirm it.

She’s pregnant.

So she goes to patrol that night, the first patrol with Chat since she took the tests, and cries on him for a while.  She’s not getting an abortion–she’s pro-choice, but can’t do it herself–and she still has to talk to the father.

But Chat’s there.  He comforts her, says he’ll be there for her whether the father is or not.  He lets her cry on his shoulder for hours, and patrol never actually gets done.  They decide to meet up tomorrow night, even though it’s not a patrol night, so they can talk after Marinette talks to the father.

Which doesn’t go well.  Actually, that’s an understatement.  The father is furious at her for being pregnant, wants her to get an abortion, and wants nothing to do with the baby if she has it.

So Marinette leaves in tears, and skips her classes that afternoon and goes immediately to their patrol spot to just sit and cry for hours, waiting for Chat.

Chat left an hour early for patrol, barely having allowed himself to wait that long, and finds Ladybug already on the roof.  She tells him about how it went with the father and starts crying all over again.

“I’ll be it’s father.”

“What?”

“A baby needs a father.  Mine was never around, and I know that’s messed me up.  So I can be this baby’s father.  I mean, if you want.”

“I…I’d like that.”

So they sit there for hours until Ladybug’s tears subside, holding onto each other.  When they decide it’s time to leave, Ladybug suggests they reveal their identities because “I am not going to the doctor as Ladybug, and I am not having Chat Noir take me there.”

So they reveal themselves, and are freaking happy that they are Adrien and Marinette, because that makes introducing themselves to their friends much easier.

The next morning, Adrien is sleep deprived and freaking out because he spent all night on the internet looking up everything about babies and pregnancy and “should I propose, Plagg?  Do you think she’ll expect me to?  What do babies eat?  Oh god, what if there’s more than one baby?”

(he’s also spent an insane amount of money on baby clothes and stuffed animals)

So when Nino calls to ask why he’s late for lunch, you really can’t blame him for blurting out:

“I’m not ready to be a father!”

“…what?”

“I’m not ready, Nino!  What if I’m as terrible a father as mine?  What if I kill it?  What if it hates me?  What if–”

“Adrien?”

“What?”

“A father?”

“Yes!  I’m not ready!”

“…who did you get pregnant?”

(you also can’t blame him for hanging up and not going to lunch after all because Marinette didn’t want to tell anyone yet and he almost blew it with the first person he talked to)

They tell their friends a few weeks later, saying that Adrien and Marinette got drunk and hooked up one night, and no they’re not together but they’re both going to be in this baby’s life.

Alya and Nino are thrilled and decide that they are going to be godparents and Alya announces it on the Ladyblog (Marinette and Adrien laugh later about how relevant a post that really was).

The pregnancy goes well.  Adrien does not, in fact, propose, though he does discuss it with Marinette, who decides that maybe in the future, but only if they actually have a relationship together.  They get an apartment together, and Marinette has to hide Adrien’s credit cards because he’s a stress shopper and “we really don’t need six cribs.  You need to send some of them back.”

Ladybug disappears around sometime around the third month, Chat Noir fighting akumas on his own and bringing her the butterflies after for purification.  Chat Noir assures the public that Ladybug is safe and sound, and that she’s only disappeared because there will be a new little bug in a few months, and, no, he will not comment on whether or not this bug is also a kitten.

(Alya freaks out because “Marinette, your baby will be the same age as Ladybugs!  They’ll go to school together!”)

Adrien freaks out at every ultrasound, crying and squeezing Marinette’s hand.  He buys her whatever food she’s craving, and sometimes Chat Noir will be found begging at the door of a closing shop because “Ladybug needs pickles and chocolate fudge can you please stay open just another minute?” and because these stores will usually let Chat Noir in but not Adrien.

(Chat Noir also can’t go more than half a block without people giving him baby supplies.  Sometimes he has to refuse because “Ladybug would not be happy if I came home with a seventh crib.”)

(This leads to the rumours that Ladybug and Chat Noir are having sextuplets, which Marinette finds hilarious.)

(Adrien is just relieved that these rumours aren’t true because one baby is stressful enough and it hasn’t even come yet.)

It’s around five months when Chat Noir almost dies in an akuma attack.  Marinette watches on TV and begs Tikki to let her transform to help, but it would be too dangerous for the baby, so all she can do is watch and cry.  Chat stumbles in the window a while later, barely conscious and bleeding all over the floor.  Ladybug cleanses the akuma and it heals Chat, and they both release their transformations as Marinette throws herself at him, crying.

“I almost lost you.  You have to be more careful, Chat.  I can’t lose you.”

Neither of them notice, at first, that she kisses him.  It seems natural.  He almost died.  She was upset.  So of course she’d kiss him.

Of course, they do notice, and both make things awkward for a few hours before they decide that maybe they should try this for real.

The baby comes a few days early, and Adrien was at a shoot on the other side of Paris when he got the call from Nino.  It would take hours to get there, hours he doesn’t have because Marinette is in labour and he isn’t there and he is seriously stressing out.

So he ducks into an alley and transforms and races across the rooftops.

When he reaches the hospital, the nurses and patients in the waiting give him weird looks but he ignores them because he has to find Marinette.

He barges into Marinette’s room with a “Marinette!  I’m here!” and doesn’t know why everyone turns to stare.

Mr. and Mrs. Dupain-Cheng glance between their daughter and the man who barged in, squinting and trying to put the pieces together.

The nurse who had been checking on a machine drops her clipboard.

Nino narrows his eyes and closes the book he had been trying to distract himself with, rising in a defensive stance.

Alya takes a picture.

And Marinette?  Marinette bursts into hysterical laughter.

“You’re an idiot.”

“What?  I got here as fast as I could.  The shoot was on the other side of town.  I–”

“Adrien.  You’re in costume.”

He looks down at himself and groans because he knew he forgot something when he jumped off the roof.  He releases the transformation and goes to the bed, deciding to pretend like it never happened and asking Marinette how she’s doing.

“That means you’re Ladybug,” Alya says, not going along with Adrien’s plan to ignore his mistake.  “Right?  Because Chat Noir hasn’t said that Ladybug’s baby is his, but he also hasn’t been subtle about the baby being his.”

“Can we talk about this later?” Marinette groans out as a contraction hits.  “Preferably when I don’t have a baby trying to rip its way out of me.”

“Fine,” Alya agrees.  “As long as I get an exclusive about Chat Noir and Ladybug’s baby.”

Hugo Michel Dupain-Cheng-Agreste came into the world a few hours later, by which point all of Paris knew Ladybug and Chat Noir’s identities (becuase Chat Noir running through a hospital screaming for Marinette Dupain-Cheng was not very subtle, and it was common knowledge that Marinette was having a baby with supermodel Adrien Agreste, so Chat Noir’s own identity wasn’t a stretch) and the section of the hospital has to be cornered off to keep out the cameras and the fans.

Gabriel Agreste comes to see them later in the day, to visit his grandson.  He takes his son aside before he leaves, apologizing for being such a horrible father.

“I’ll be better to him, if you’ll let me be in his life.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

But Gabriel doesn’t answer, instead handing a small brown box to his son.

“I am so sorry.  I can’t do this anymore, not when it means hurting my family.  I hope you can forgive me, and that you’ll listen to my explanation one day, but I understand if you won’t.  You don’t have to worry about this anymore.”

And with that, Gabriel was gone, leaving Adrien alone and confused in the hallway of the hospital.  He looked down at the box again, it was so familiar but he couldn’t figure out why.  Slowly, he opened it.  Inside sat a purple butterfly broach.

It’s a few months later before Ladybug and Chat Noir make an appearance again, chasing each other across the rooftops and laughing, stopping in alcoves to kiss.

The papers the next morning feature this:  Ladybug with her arms around Chat’s neck, beaming as he kisses her cheek.  A green sling around Chat’s body, one of his arms holding it to his chest, the other around Ladybug’s waist.  And a baby, tucked in the sling, a little head with cat ears sticking out.

All of Paris turned up a year later to the long awaited wedding between Adrien Agreste and Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

REMINDER THAT THIS IS A FIC NOW

Chocolate

Because it’s about time, honestly.

rated T

~~~

Once, when he was younger, his mother told him a story from a book of stories, (all of which were written so strangely, he could only understand their iambic pentameter when she read it) and despite his confusion, he could never forget it.

“It’s based on a real story, my son,” she had hummed to him. “A real story of love and tragedy.”

“So they die, big deal.”

“Death is not the only tragedy.”

He never got it. Why would someone sacrifice the opportunity for power for something as ridiculous as love? How could someone fall in love with such abandon? With such complete and utter arrogance?

So when the fleet arrived and the lovers were left to face the last of their lives, Keith had snorted to himself quietly. It was to be expected. Love was not their tragedy. Arrogance was.

Eventually, life took his mother away and with her the story of Antony and Cleopatra.

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Prompt from @naomilasenby “Dex is fixing the dryer in the basement and Nursey is watching (and chirping) him. When the chirping turns to arguing, they then realise the basement door won’t open. They’re trapped. And no one else is in the Haus.”

“You’ve been fixing that for forty minutes now.”

Nursey comes down the basement stairs with a plate of cookies that smell divine. Dex has been down here for forty minutes, and he skipped lunch to do this, so he’s starved.

“I am well aware.”

Dex continues unscrewing the back panel of the dryer, expecting Nursey to head back upstairs. He does not. Dex can tell due to the loud chewing noises.

“Stop that.”

“I’m not doing anything.” Crunch.

Dex shudders and then sighs. “Fine, at least give me one.”

“No way, Fitzwilliam, these are mine.”

“That is not even close to my name.”

“I was going to go for Fitzwilliam Dexter in homage to Fitzwilliam Darcy, but then I reconsidered on account of how unfair that would be to Darcy.”

“Well I’m actually relived not to be compared to a fictional character with no game. Now, can you leave me alone so I can finish this?”

Dex raises an eyebrow at Nursey, waiting for him to take his stupid cookies, and his stupid rolled above the ankle jeans, and his stupid smirk up the stairs with him.

Crunch. Crunch.

“Oh my god!” Dex explodes. “Get out.”

Nursey heads to the table and sits down, starting in on another cookie. Dex has no idea what Nursey is getting from this torturing of Dex. Does he enjoy seeing him worked up? Making his skin burn red?

Dex almost throws his screwdriver against the wall but he’s not one to damage his tools. Instead, he slaps it harshly on top of the dryer and marches over to Nursey.

“Up, up.” He shoves Nursey off the table and plants his hands on Nursey’s back to shepherd him up the stairs to the door.

“You’re surprisingly strong,” Nursey says with absolutely no exertion in his voice, like Dex isn’t manhandling him.

They reach the top of the stairs and Dex reaches around Nursey to open the door. One problem though. It doesn’t open.

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they’re not real boys

Sasuke catches Hinata playing Mystic Messenger… cue jealousy.


They were just spending time together in his living room as they often did. It was a “stay-in” kind of Friday night, one of many.

Since it was snowing profusely outside, the dark haired couple curled up next to the fireplace. Sasuke worked diligently on his thesis while Hinata played around on her phone.

The fire crackled, casting a soft, flickering glow on them and their steaming mugs of hot chocolate. Sasuke couldn’t think of a better kind of day than this.

Taking a short break from the ten page document, he stretched his arms and massaged the cramp in his neck. He should really fix his posture.

The Uchiha stared at his girlfriend of five years to make sure she wasn’t bored, when he noticed her smiling widely at her phone.

‘… cute. I wonder what she’s looking at.’

“What’s got you grinning like that?” His inquiry broke through the silence.

Hinata gave a nervous laugh and dismissed the question with a “nothing”, before returning her attention to the iPhone.

Hm. She usually showed him any funny posts she found, even regularly sending him memes when he was at work. He didn’t tell her how much he enjoyed them, but those texts made his days at school less tedious.

He nodded and gave a mildly skeptical look before returning to his paper. His five minute break was up.

An hour passed and he was getting really sick of working on this. He was rereading the same sentence and struggling with what to type next. Tired of glaring at the paper, he cast occasional glances at Hinata. He just liked looking at her, she was so expressive.

She now had headphones in and she was trying to stifle her giggling. Unwilling to continue working and curious to as what was so amusing, he snuck over to her and pulled out a bud.

“Want to share?” He murmured in her ear before popping in the bud and shifting to look at her phone screen.

She nearly jumped out of her skin with Sasuke’s sudden intrusion. “Ah! Sasuke, you nearly gave me a heart attack.” The young woman took a brief moment to calm her racing heart.

Quickly remembering the incriminating app she had open on her phone, she closed it faster than humanely possible. But Sasuke heard… and saw.

There was a boy on her screen with a bright smile and a crown of blonde hair. He reminded Sasuke too much of a different blonde… The Uchiha also caught the bastard on the screen saying “I’ll give you my heart” before Hinata smashed the home button like her life depended on it.

Taking both of their headphones out, he turned to look at her with a slight frown. “Who was that?”

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group therapy au (part three)

read part one - part two (and thanks to @broship-addict for (in)directly inspiring parts of this/encouraging me to continue!)(warning for a kiss that is not clearly consensual but actually is, if that makes sense?) - or read it all on ao3

After that, Neil’s life became even less exciting. Group therapy hadn’t particularly added any excitement to his day, but the promise of riding with Andrew and getting to ask him something was at least something to chew on when he was bored in class.

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Inspired by @werewolfmcwolfy ‘s post 

AU where Sirius is a former child star just trying to go to college and “live a normal life” and Remus keeps posting memes of Sirius from his glory days in their class Facebook page.

This started as tags on the post, but then the tags got too long (this is super long - so sorry). And this is also sort of for @lala-lady-elena because you said you enjoy my tags and this is basically tags in not tag form - and I saw the post when you reblogged it <3. 

  • The amount of messages that Sirius probably sent THIS KID
  • THAT JUST WON’T LET HIS DEMONS REST IN PIECE
  • and telling him that he needs to FOR THE LOVE OF GOD
  • just stOP
  • because he is RUINING his reputation as cool and suave
  • Sirius has put a lot of effort into making people forget about his very unfortunate childhood
  • (not that he was a bad actor)
  • (in fact, he actually won some award)
  • not that THE KID can ever know this
    • (warning: the kid definitely already knows this and is simply waiting for the best time to use this information to his advantage)
  • because if Sirius has to do something
  • he might as well excel
  • but that doesn’t mean he enJOYED it
    • how DARE you insinuate that Prongs?
    • I would never be so materialistic
    • ‘just yesterday you cried because the crop top you wanted was $40′
    • IT IS A PIECE OF FABRIC
    • IT SHOULD NOT COST THAT MUCH
    • IT IS AN OUTRAGE
    • I JUST WANT TO LOOK PRETTY
    • anyways
    • I got distracted by my own personal outrage at the price of clothing and decided to let Sirius be dramatic for me
  • but back to THIS KID
  • who won’t let Sirius be super cool and fly at uni
  • as he studies art???
    • economy????
    • how to be a pe teacher???
    • law????
  • idk let’s go with law
  • and THIS KID only responds to Sirius’s messages with memes of Sirius
  • and Sirius has no idea who this kid is
  • he’s never seen him on campus before
  • he doesn’t know what his major is
  • does he even go to the school???
  • so now one of tho things occurs
  • either one
    • Sirius starts posting flyers around the school
    • obviously they’re memed
    • asking for information on the Sirius Black memester
    • he probably offers massages (from James) or something like that - maybe authentic Indian food? 
    • well Lily sees it, and she’s Remus’s bff
      • and to be frank, she is sick and tired of Remus Lupin going on and on about wonder child Sirius Black and how amazing he is
      • honeslty, the amount of information that Remus has amassed on Sirius would make both the CIA and the FBI proud 
      • Remus probably knew things about Sirius that Sirius didn’t know
      • Lily was creeped out
      • and in desperate need of a massage 
    • so she gives Sirius Remus’s contact info, and she gets her massage from James and then everything is happily ever after
  • or TWO
    • the next semester starts
    • and Sirius is taking this ancient civilizations course 
    • and he sees this super dorky adorable guy sitting in the front/middle of the room
    • and Sirius positions himself so that he’d be able to see a clear view of this adorables guys’ face
    • and it’s a relatively small class
    • so the prof calls out names (I don’t know if this is a thing that happens in uni’s if it isn’t, call it poetic license)
    • and the prof calls out remus lupin
    • and Sirius makes a mental note that THE KID is in the class
      • because he was too busy staring at the adorable guys face to pay attention to who responded 
    • and after class
    • Sirius runs out after the adorable guy (he didn’t pay attention and didn’t realize class was dismissed)
    • and he yells out before he can stop himself
    • and adorable guy turns around
    • and Sirius doesn’t know what to say
    • so he goes, “do you know who Remus Lupin is? I need to talk to him”
    • and Remus has sort of been planning this since he first saw Sirius walk into the class
    • goes, “yeah sure, let me give you his number” 
    • AND JUST GIVES SIRIUS HIS NUMBER
    • AND THEN TURNS AROUND AND JUST WALKS AWAY
    • Sirius is dumfounded
      • he did not see Remus turn the corner and jump in happiness at his success like the little dork that is 
    • and slowly makes his way back to his apartment/dorm with james 
    • where he texts remus and then they live happily ever after 
    • because I really need to stop typing and do homework

a-ominedaiki  asked:

"Well, that could've gone better" - bokuroakatsuki im so deep in this hell bc of u and idec anymore I've accepted my fate hit me w ur best

It was not unusual for Akaashi to come home only to about-face and go for a spontaneous one-hour long walk right after work, briefcase still in hand. That just couldn’t be helped when two thirds of your boyfriends were absolute nut-jobs. He did love them, sure. Adored them, even. But sometimes… sometimes they were just too much.

However, it was unusual for him to not even get as far as opening the door to their house before he felt like walking out again.

“Okay,” he said, drawing in a deep breath as he stood in the garden gate and looked upon the horrendous picture before him. Tearing his eyes away and glancing at the watch on his wrist, he added: “You have ten minutes to pack your bags and leave the country before Tsukishima comes home and kills you.”

Bokuto and Kuroo looked down at him from where they were posed on a ladder, both sporting huge hedge clippers.

“What?” said Kuroo innocently. “Why would we do that? This is his birthday present!”

Akaashi pressed his eyes closed, hoping that somehow, he was just dreaming and the scene would change as soon as he opened his eyes again. Unfortunately, he knew better. “You sculpted all of our shrubs into dicks… for his birthday?” he asked, pained. “Are you aware that birthdays are not randomly interchangeable with April’s fools?”

Bokuto made a scandalized face upon his words. “Wha-!” he proclaimed and leaned back on his ladder as if to look at the sculpture from a bigger distance. “These are dinosaurs! Can’t you see that?”

Akaashi’s lid began to twitch. “How are those dinosaurs?” he asked. Slowly. Calmly. Furiously.

“Well, you see,” said Kuroo, using his huge hedge clipper like a pointer to gesture along the shrub’s… shaft. “We wanted to do the ones with the long necks, because they’re the easiest, and also adorable, and also tallest, so it’s like… triple appropriate for Tsukki.”

“Are you saying he’s easy, then?” Akaashi asked and immediately shook his head at himself for getting distracted. “More importantly – I can see how this would be a long neck with a head on it – but what’s with the two balls down there?”

Bokuto took it upon himself to explain the absolute moronism that had apparently taken them over once again. “Well, you see – once we were done with the neck, we noticed there was not enough shrub left for the body, so we had to improvise!” he said, like that made any sense at all.

“By turning it into a dick,” said Akaashi.

“No! You see – those are its little feet poking out from the ground!” said Kuroo, waving the hedge clippers about. “It’s like a cute puppy dinosaur, just popping up from our garden! Like so!” He threw the clippers away to put on a puppy face and form two paws with his hands.

“It’s an erect penis,” said Akaashi.

“No, it’s not!” Bokuto protested, imitating Kuroo’s ridiculous pose. “It’s like so!”

Akaashi tried to fight his nearing headache with a long sigh. “Would you please… just come down from that ladder and look at it from here?” he asked with long practiced patience.

“Hm…” said Bokuto, once they were both standing next to Akaashi and took a good look at their work. How exactly they had managed to cut five shrubs into this form without noticing… Akaashi would never understand. “I guess… I can kind of see it now,” Bokuto admitted.

Kuroo sat down on the ground with a long groan. “Well, that could’ve gone better,” he said. “So what do we do now?”

“Run?” Akaashi suggested.

“Uhm, yeah… too late,” Bokuto said.

Akaashi turned around with an overwhelming feeling of dread spreading in his stomach. He just hoped Tsukishima would know that this was in no way Akaashi’s fault, idea or influence!

Tsukishima just stood where Akaashi had stood before – just one step through the garden gate, looking at the multitude of penises spread across their lawn. His face was unreadable and he didn’t say a word.

“Hap-” Bokuto started and got interrupted by Kuroo kicking at his boot. They seemed to be having a drawn-out mental conversation, which Bokuto won, somehow, because when they both looked at Tsukishima again, they sounded in unison: “Happy birthday, babe!”

It didn’t sound very convincing.

“Did you…” said Tsukishima, face still unreadable. “Did you seriously sculpt all of our shrub into dicks… for every passing person to see?”

“Uh…” said Bokuto.

“Well…” Kuroo added.

“Actually…” Akaashi tried to explain, because no matter how angry he was at these two idiots, he did not want this evening to end in a bloodbath. However, he never got to explain anything, because Tsukishima had already thrown himself at Bokuto – and not even to punch or strangle him. What they were doing looked suspiciously like… hugging. “Okay, what?” Akaashi groaned.

Kuroo was on his feet two seconds later, throwing himself into the hug.

“You guys know me so well!” Tsukishima smiled – he actually smiled! And no – Akaashi could not accept that – this had to be a dream after all, because no way in hell. No way in hell-

“I can’t believe I never thought of this!” Tsukishima continued. It was hard to hear him through the throbbing pain in Akaashi’s head. “Finally everyone will leave us in peace. No more annoying neighbors trying to befriend us. No more girl scouts. No more people trying to sell us vacuum cleaners or get us to join their church! Nobody will ever want to ring the doorbell of the perverts with a bunch of dick-bushes in their garden! This is the best present ever!”

Bokuto and Kuroo had nothing to add to that except for matching beams, and Akaashi had to watch them escort an elated Tsukishima over to the door.

Akaashi was left with nothing else to do but recalculate.

He had been wrong with two thirds. It had been three thirds all along. One hundred percent.

All of his boyfriends were absolute nut-jobs.

anonymous asked:

any advice on how to balance being at peace with my single-ness without letting it devolve into bitter cynicism about romance in general? i've made an effort to not think about boys or hooking up or going out this semester just bc for me it generally just feeds my insecurities. but at the same time, i miss having someone to wake up next to or to text at any hour of the day.

hullo hullo, lovely!!

this is something that is near and dear to my heart, and is something that i myself struggle with. as a gal who’s proud of the fact that she (apparently) exudes independence and confidence, I sometimes play even more into that by joking about how romance is useless, a farce that never actually works–and somehow, along the way, it became something that I actually believed in. so much so to the point where i could not believe it when people had feelings for me (although that also stemmed from general self-esteem issues, as well).

but, the good news: bb, this is so, so easily fixed. as soon as I find myself being cynical or bitter about love, I take a moment to open my heart and look around with fresh eyes. all the couples holding hands and making heart eyes at each other as they walk across campus; the very clearly on-the-brink-of-something-More friends as they distract each other from studying in the library; a boyfriend dropping by the study space to give his girlfriend (at the desk next to mine) snacks and a pep talk before letting her go back to work–I look at all of this and expel the immediate reaction of, “ugh,” and instead let myself smile at the loveliness of it all. how lucky we are, to exist and to be able to love and care for fellow human beings, and to be able to feel and experience such emotions, even if we may not necessarily feel them right now. love is unexpected and is always, always a possibility, and that’s cheesy af but is such a beautiful thing. that it takes you so off-guard, that it’s so serendipitous and entirely unpredictable. so i allow myself to feel happy for the couples who have it right now, in this very moment–entirely content with the fact that i live in a world where people have found each other and that sort of happiness in one another.

as someone who has been officially single for twenty, almost twenty-one years, take it from me: being single is hard. it’s hard, but it’s also possibly the best thing to have, “happened” to me, of sorts, because it’s taught me infallible self-love. it is my firm belief that it is only when you are happy with yourself and know how to be alone with yourself that you are truly in a place where you are ready for a relationship (but that is a personal belief!), and my experiences have proved to me exactly that. because i know how to be single and can thrive single, i also know exactly the things i want and need from someone who wants to share my life with me, and their life with me. 

being single does not mean being alone, and I think it’s so, so important to realize that. romantic love is not a superior sort of love; familial love, friend love, neighborly love, etc. is so, so important–and the quicker we realize that, the more easily we’ll be at peace with being single.

bb, you got this. one day, you’re going to find yourself being unapologetically you, having gotten to know yourself even more deeply than you do now from this period of singledom, and someone will come along and want to share your life and their life with you, and that relationship will be so much more wholesome and wonderful for it. 

all my love xx

frozen

for Naia (@fairynarrytale)

Harry likes to impress people.

He knows this isn’t a unique personality quirk—knows most people, in some way, like to dazzle others—but the instinct to amaze definitely gets out of hand for him.

(There was the one time when he was eight and tried to make his mum’s Mothers’ Day breakfast all on his own and had to get seventeen stitches in his hand after a knife accident whilst chopping potatoes.)

(And there was the other time when he dropped two hundred pounds on a new outfit for his first date with Alicia from his year ten Maths class…only he didn’t actually have two hundred pounds and his mum nearly killed him when she got her credit card bill for the month.)

(Obviously it goes without saying that jumping off a bridge to make a good impression on your roommate’s friend group is a terrible idea, but at least he’d been attached to a bungie cord at the time.)

When it comes to Niall, though, there is nothing Harry can do to make himself look like an attractive option for a life partner, apparently. It’s his own fault for being so tongue-tied with infatuation; he really can’t blame Niall for not wanting to date a bloke who appears to be mute in a rude, standoffish sort of way half the time and only able to spew childish jokes or fake philosophical bullshit for the other half. Harry is a complete mess.

So of course he takes the only opportunity that has ever presented itself to look good in front of Niall.

“This ice cream is fecking delicious, mate,” Harry hears the melodious sound of Niall’s Irish brogue from across the room. “Where’d you get it?”

Louis, ever an angel—well, sometimes honest in a way that is beneficial to Harry rather than a teasing blow to his self-esteem—replies, “Harry made it.”

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anonymous asked:

High school au with punk!Bucky crushing really hard on the jock/class president!T'Challa?

Trigger warnings for the sugary sweet high school cliches in this that will most likely cause cavities. What else could I do? i listened to the High School Musical soundtrack while I wrote this. 


The year was coming to a close, thankfully. Blessedly. Graduation was right around the corner, and Bucky Barnes only had a couple more weeks of this hell hole.

Admittedly, it wasn’t that bad. He had Steve and the Commandos, their little group of art nerds that ate lunch together and ended up forming a new rock band every summer. Bucky couldn’t paint or draw for shit, but he wrote the songs and sung them, so he was a full-fledged member of the group.

He was going to miss those guys, like hell, but Bucky was pretty lucky to be able to follow Steve to the city for school. That had basically been his entire motivation for doing well these past couple of years - keeping up with Steve.

Now they were going to be roomies at some fancy art school that Bucky had somehow sung his way into. Steve was the real talent of the two of them, some of his black and white studies of Bucky had ended up in his portfolio, to Bucky’s embarrassment.

Bucky was excited to be moving on. But, there was one regret that he had.

There’s this guy - star quarterback, class president, prom king. The most gorgeous, perfect guy in their school.

And Bucky had been crushing on him since he realized what his dick was for in the sixth grade.

T’Challa was…amazing. And so far out of his league it was like T’Challa was in a different stratosphere.

It would be so easy if he was an ass. A perfect, gorgeous guy. But if he was an asshole Bucky could just jerk off to the thought of him and that would be that.

But instead, he was nice. Kind, funny. He was perfect.

They were partners sometimes in stats. T’Challa always knew the answer, but would whisper it to the kids around him if they needed help. He always laughed at Bucky’s stupid jokes, and looked at him like he mattered.

And it sucked.

Because Bucky’d fucked around a bit in high school. But he’d never felt like this, not really. He’d never had a chance with T’Challa. So he never tried. But now? Now high school was almost over, and a part of Bucky was wishing that he’d made a move.


Statistics was Bucky’s last hour of the day, which was equally perfect and terrible. Perfect because he got to see T’Challa’s face before he went home, and terrible because he had to wait all day to see him.

When they weren’t paired together, Bucky usually slunk into a seat in the back of the room. But when he walked through the door today, T’Challa was at the front of the room, waving him over with that smile that Bucky hoped was just for him.

Heart pounding in his chest, Bucky subtly adjusts his tee and button down, wondering if his jeans are too tight. He curses himself for wearing another stupid band shirt; he’s a mess next to T’Challa in his button up and khakis.

“Hey man, what’s up?” Bucky goes for casual, aware of his awkward smile.

T’Challa picks up a clipboard off of their teachers desk with a sign up seat attached to it. “Final stats project of the year,” he explains. “You in?”

Bucky scans the sheet quickly. Looks simple enough, it’s a partner project. Meaning, it would just be the two of them. He looks up at T’Challa. “You wanna work with me? Why?”

He frowns. “Why not?”

Bucky doesn’t have anything to say to that, so he shrugs and sits beside T’Challa to work out the logistics of their project.

“This is going to be great,” T’Challa’s grinning again.

It was going to be hell.

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anonymous asked:

Rilaya promt thing "thats the third time i've saved your life!"

Girl Meets World Fanfiction

Prompt and pairing are above

Rating: T

The gang had decided to take a trip over to the closest beach, thinking it would be the most delightful of days and that they’d get to relax under the sun, forget all their problems.

Oh how wrong they were.

They had been there for not more than two hours when Lucas had realized that he had used suntan oil, rather than sunscreen. How he made that (incredibly idiotic) mistake, no one knows. He claims to have been distracted by all the whining Farkle was doing. The genius was going around, complaining about all the sand in his swim-trunks which resulted in him chafing uncomfortably.

If you think think the girls are having any fun either, you’re sadly mistaken. Isadora was being disturbed by all the ‘hoodlums’ running around, kicking sand and splashing water at her as she tried to read her science book in peace.

Riley was having trouble collecting seashells, which is the whole reason she wanted to go to the beach, in the first place. Don’t get her wrong, Riley loves the beach, but she was really looking forward to collecting some pretty shells and right now all she had found was 2 broken shells, a shoelace and a countless amount of bottlecaps.

Maya had fallen asleep and then woke up to find herself covered in sand. To make matters worse, the sand was shaped to look like a mermaid’s body, and let’s just say that Zay’s handiwork did not amuse the blonde.

Frankly, Zay was the only one enjoying their trip to the beach.

Of course, Maya did think that a plus side to this trip was that Riley happened to look incredibly beautiful in her swimsuit.

Yes, you heard right. Maya Hart enjoys watching Riley Matthews prance around in a two-piece, but tell a soul and you won’t live to celebrate your next birthday.

At some point during this whole mess of a trip, Riley had run over to her blonde best friend, “Come swim with me, Peaches.” And Maya had actually agreed, wanting to spend more time with her favorite girl. They had swam around together, Maya had attempted to help her find some seashells and they might have done a little flirting. Maya also may or may have not rode around on Riley’s back, but that’s a story for another day.

Anyway, that was all before Maya had fallen asleep, in the wrong place, at the wrong time, around the wrong boy. Now she was awake and dreading whoever had the bright idea to visit the beach.

She was lying there on a towel, under an umbrella, trying to dust off all the sand that the Texan had covered her in earlier, as Lucas sat beside her with a pout, Farkle standing beside him, shaking around, trying to empty his trunks of all the small grains of sand, and Isadora sat cross-legged to his left, glaring at a group of ten-year-olds as she schemed a way to get back at them for coating her with pebbles and droplets of sand and water.

Zay and Riley were swimming, splashing one another, laughing the whole time. Riley was just trying to make the best of their time there, because even though she didn’t find many shells, she enjoyed being at the beach and didn’t wanna miss out just because she was so determined to find some.

A smile made it’s way onto Maya’s face as she watched the brunette swim around happily.

She’s adorable, she thought, pushing her hair back out of her face.

Moments later, cries of help were heard before Zay emerged from the water, Riley in his arms before he set her down on the sand, eyes shut, barely breathing.

“Guys!” Zay yelled, out, trying to catch one of his friends’ attention, “Riley was drowning! I think she swallowed too much water. Quick! One of you come give her CPR!”

Lucas immediately got up, putting on a heroic facial expression, “I’ll do it.”

He began to make his way over to the two before Farkle pulled his shoulder back, saying, “No, I will.”

“Farkle!” Isadora called at him.

“I have to help my friend.” He responded, before he and Lucas began to argue over who should do it.

“Get outta my way!” Maya yelled at them, pushing past the two blonds, “I’ve been waiting for this moment since I was seven years old.” She rushed over to the brunette, leaning over and holding her nose as she pressed her lips to Riley’s, blowing air into her lungs through her mouth. She would pull back every few seconds to press down on Riley’s chest before going back to her lips.

After a few more rounds of that, she pulled back, sitting beside Riley’s head as the girl sat up slightly, coughing quite harshly.

“Maya?” 

“That’s the third time I’ve saved your life.” She smiled down at her, catching the glint in Riley’s eyes.

“I think I need some more saving.” Riley whispered, getting a smirk out of the blonde before she leaned back down, pressing their lips together once more.

Isadora sat there grinning at her two friends while Zay smirked at them and the two blond boys were in complete and utter shock.

Riley and Maya pulled away again, staring into each other’s eyes with happy smiles, “I guess going to the beach wasn’t that bad, after all.”

They got up, walking back over to the rest of the group, Zay following behind them.

“Thanks for the help, Zay.” Riley whispered to him, trying to make sure that the blonde who was currently holding her hand couldn’t hear her.

“Anything for my favorite gal pals.” He winked, smirking at the taller girl.

How to Impress a Boy

Title: How to Impress a Boy

Genre: fluff / humour / High School AU. 

Words: 1.7k

Summary: Phil fails at basic human skills when the new kid is being a little bit too cute. 

A/N: Hey! This is just a little thing I wrote to take a break from my big bang fic (this thing hasn’t even started yet and I’m already stressed ffs). I’ll be working on it from now and until October so there won’t be any fic updates, unfortunately :( 

Excerpt:

“That was when he saw him. Sitting tightly a few seats to his left was a skinny boy with a long, brown fringe covering most of his face. He had an exaggerated tan which almost hid the red colour in his cheeks, and his hands were folded neatly in his lap. He was looking timidly up at the stage, and no one was sat around him. Phil drew his hand towards his own fringe, letting his fingers nuzzle it up to make it look like had cared that morning”

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Aus

baebot and me were throwing ideas around
‘I’m sorry I got really excited about that punch buggy I didn’t mean to hit you hard enough to bruise’ au

“I take singing in my car very seriously and I’m sorry to have distracted you at a four way stop serenading my rearview mirror. Please don’t sue me I have no insurance, we can just buff out that bumper au’

'I took to many self defence courses as a child and now my automatic response when someone grabs my arm is to throw them over my hip I’m so sorry. At least I took first aid too?’ Au

'You were staring at me all class and I’m pretty sure you didn’t take any notes want to borrow mine?’ Au

'You forgot your phone on the bus next to me and I texted your dad (he was in your recent contacts) to get it back to you. and for some reason he is now convinced we are living together? Apparently you left home and are lying where you are… Don’t worry I kept your secret. I don’t know how, but hey I’m actually looking for a roommate so hey au’

'You’re a colossal douche bag to everyone at school but I’ve seen you split your lunch with the small creatures around the school and you’re really nice to little kids and the elderly at your shitty part time job but it’s not like I’ve been watching you or anything I swear.’ au
‘Oh fuck shit! Your allergic to nuts?!?! I just wolfed down a whole bag in front of you. Please don’t die, I’ll drive you to the hospital. And pay your bills I don’t know but im at your service please don’t die shit’

'I wasn’t paying attention and almost walked in front of a train thanks for grabbing my sweater- wait aren’t you the guy/gal/etc who caught me when I fell off the ladder yesterday oh shit now I’m embarrassed I swear I’m not usually this much of a clutz’ au

’ I put posters around campus for an event but your the only one to show up so I guess we can split all this food?’
'Turns out we’re the into two in the school willing to admit we like xthing so that means we’re best friends now right?’ Au

’ I can’t believe you like that one lesser known thing too… But wait. No no no, you like that character? Hmm no I’m sorry we can’t be friends’ au
'I’m the most awkward person I know but you’re always around when I say something clever’ au

'You keep fucking talking during class- but your conversation is honestly more interesting than the lecture so eh’ au
'We keep ending up in the same classes and I swear it’s not on purpose. Wait what do you mean it might be?’ Au
’ I noticed you sketching during class and they are damn good wow.. Wait is that me???’ Au

'I’ve been following your blog since jr high but it still took me almost three months to figure out who you are and now I have to remind myself to use you’re actual name’ au

'This cat keeps visiting my house isn’t he cute? Oh wait this is your cat? 
It isn’t? Oh it’s their cat?! 
Damn, their cute. You agree? Hmm maybe we can negotiate a cat share.’ Au

'We’re in like three classes together and you suddenly stopped showing up for all of them are you okay? Yes I got your name from the prof and your cell number from the online site thing. What do you mean that’s creepy?’ Au

’ you look like you have an aesthetic blog. And what I mean is do you have an aesthetic blog? Because I want to follow it my god you are beautiful’ au

'We’re catching the same plane somewhere and it’s been delayed by like six hours want to get a hot drink with me?’ Au

’ we both have a crush on the cute barista. This is war. Orrr something more?’ Au

'Holy shit the person in this picture is beautiful. What do you mean that’s you?’ Au

’ ok so I just joined this class… I know! I know it’s three weeks to the final exam. Do you mind teaching me everything? I can pay!’

'My best friend hates you and i can’t figure out why. Care to explain?’ Au

'I’m on the bus. Your hair game is strong. Like too strong.. It’s stuck in my jacket zipper and my stop is coming up.’ Au

'I know we’ve been going to the same school for almost four years but I don’t actually remember ever seeing you before Au’

’ I’m single, pregnant, and grumpy. I’m sorry for ranting to you on the bus but you just seemed so sweet. And I’m really craving nibs and you have like an entire bag in your hand.’ Au

'We both reached for the same ridiculously rare book at the second hand shop at the same time but it’s mine and if you want it you’re going to have to move in with me’ au

Title: give em here, give em here

Pairing: RoyalChaos

Rating: T

Summary: five times Ze and Chilled said “I love you” and one time they didn’t have to. inspired by and loosely based on Watsky’s “Sloppy Seconds

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anonymous asked:

Can I ask for more Cinderella 'verse, please? The Avengers' reaction to Skinny Steve.

[cinderella!verse]

i.

“Well,” says the man, “I’m not what you expected, am I?" 

That, Natasha thinks, is a bit of an understatement. It isn’t Rogers’s size or lack thereof that startles her—she has read his file, after all. It’s the fact that when he’s off duty, Captain America most closely resembles a cross between a hippie librarian and the sort of boy generally found lurking outside certain kinds of nightclubs in translucent chiffon shirts.

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People of the Year: The Observer 2014

Gillian Anderson - Actor

Words by: Kathryn  Bromwich

She won plaudits on stage as Blanche DuBois, and on TV screens as DSI Stella Gibson - and still found time to publish her first novel.

Six nights a week for three months - plus matinees twice a week - Gillian Anderson became faded southern belle Blanche DuBois in Tennesee William’s A Streetcar Named Desire at the Young Vic, putting herself through three and a half hours of spiralling desperation, alcoholism and abuse.

In one performance she cut her knee open “I was literally gushing blood! It was a bit horrific for the audience,” she cackles, “I thought I would pass out.” How did she keep herself sane? “I got a lot of sleep. It was very physical, so I saw a physiotherapist and a chiropractor on a weekly basis.”

The emotional demands were considerable too. “The first night we performed in front of an audience, I thought, I can’t do any more of this. I felt like a truck had run me over. But by the end there was a sense of catharsis every night - I felt like I got all my anger out, all my tears out, so I actually felt quite peaceful after it.”

The night before we met, Anderson won the Natasha Richardson Award for Best Actress at the London Evening Standard theatre awards for her performance, beating stage royalty such as Kristen Scott Thomas as Electra and Helen McCrory as Medea. She is visibly moved. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a feeling of being an outsider, but it’s definitely nice to be embraced, especially by people who’s work I’ve admired for decades.”

The role is one she coveted for 30 years; aged 46, Anderson took on negotiations with the Williams Estate, which had concerns that Blanche couldn’t be “too old”. In the end, “absolutely all of the elements came together,” she says. “The Young Vic was the absolute perfect place for it, and Benedict Andrews was my first choice of director. It was a wonderful experience.”

Anderson has been particularly busy this year.  As well as her critically acclaimed turn as Blanche, she appeared in the second season of BBC2 crime drama The Fall and published her first book, a sci-fi novel, A Vision of Fire, co-written with Jeff Rovin, about a child psychologist who has to solve a series of seemingly supernatural events around the world. She has also made her first steps into directing with a short film for the Young Vic, The Departure, a mini-prequel to Streetcar.  "I've been thinking about directing for a long time. It was always going to be my next step.“

She is modest about these achievements ("it doesn’t even count”) but still, its an impressive array of talents.  Is there anything she’s really bad at?  "Oh, there are so many things that I'm bad at.  I'm bad at anything that has to do with IT.  I'm bad at remembering anything other than lines for say a play.  Just so many things.“

Anderson was born in Chicago before moving to north London until the age of 11, via 18 months in Puerto Rico.  Her family was then uprooted to America, and in 2002 she moved back to London, meaning she has now spent roughly half her life on each side of the Atlantic.  "This has always felt like home to me, even when I lived in the States,” she says softly in her precise English accent.  Changing schools and continents was a difficult experience for Anderson, who was teased for her accent and taught herself to lose it (meaning she is now fully bidialectical - a useful skill for an actor).  A rebellious teenager, she was in therapy by 14, voted by her classmates “most likely to be arrested”, and was indeed arrested on graduation night for trying to glue the locks to her school.

It’s hard to reconcile this image with the sophisticated woman in 6in stilettos and immaculate make-up ensconced amid the wooden décor and dimmed lights of Fischer’s, a luxurious German restaurant in Marylebone, central London.

Yet, the teenage rebel can be glimpsed.  Her hair is tied in a scruffy bun, her fingernails are bare and closely clipped, she is wearing head-to-toe black.  She says that beauty treatments are “a pain in the arse”, but that playing Stella Gibson in The Fall has taught her to embrace a bit more glamour.  "For a good portion of my life I downgraded my femininity.  I'm absolutely useless with my own hair and make-up.  but now on a semi-regular basis I have my hair blow-dried, and I’m a it more mindful about what I wear. Just taking care of myself.“

Now in its second year, The Fall sees Detective Superintendent Stella Gibson  close in on the serial killer played by Jamie Dornan.  It is a role that has drawn comparisons to Helen Mirren’s Jane Tennison in Prime Suspect, though DSI Gibson is much more comfortable with her sexuality.  Anderson was drawn to the complexities of Gibson’s character; "Just when you think you’ve understood a little bit about her she’ll do something and you’ll go ‘Whoa, what are you doing?’ And I like that about her.”

She is curt about suggestions that the show glamorises violence against women (“I've been very outspoken about the fact that I don’t agree with that”) and becomes animated when talking about offender conviction rates: "There are still huge holes in a system where women are so afraid to come forward, and still people get cleared.  It’s highly possible that if more women were in a position to change the laws, it would be handled differently.“

Previous interviewers accounts of Anderson are split: about half say she is witty, playful and warm, the rest use words such as "icy” and “glacial”. She looks slightly bemused by this.  "It has to do with all sorts of things - how much sleep I’m getting, if my kids are sick.  It’s easy for me to become distracted and protective,  and that can come across as cold.  I don't hide things very well.“

Today she is recovering from the Evening Standard awards after party organised by Evgeny Lebedev and Sienna Miller ("four hours of sleep are not enough”), but despite the hectic day she is polite and attentive, pondering each question carefully and frequently breaking into laughter.

After the gloom of the Fall and the emotional turmoil of Streetcar, she would like to take on something light-hearted.  "There’s a dearth of comedy anyway, and they don’t generally come my way.  I don’t know what I need to do to prove to people that I can be funny.“  I ask her to tell a joke and she immediately starts trotting them off.  "Why did the hedgehog cross the road?  To visit his flatmate.”  "What did the zero say to the eight? nice belt!“  She cracks up.  "That’s the level of joke I can do.”

So what is she starring in next?  Internet rumours that’ll she be in a film called The Curse of the Buxom Stumpet appear to be misguided (“Oh my gosh, is that still on there?”) but she is “in conversations" about a couple of projects including a new York run of Streetcar and a third season of The Fall.

I remind her that is 1983 she starred in her high-school production of Arsenic and Old Lace as Officer Brophy, a minor role.  What acting advice would she give herself back then?  "If it was blind instinct that drove me to even audition, my advice would be, 'Pay attention to your instincts.’”

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