it is too early for feelings

Waking up with Daryl would include:

Originally posted by prettymuchdixonalready

• Him grumbling and sighing as he begins to slowly wake up while he’s still holding you in his arms

• Him loving to hear your drowsy voice telling him your good mornings, only to pull you tighter and grumble the same against your skin

• Him enjoying to feel you cuddling closer and relaxing again, even though he knows that earlier or later he has to stop it and has to get both of you out of the bed

• Him slightly lifting himself up, all while feeling a bit guilty as he hears you whining in protest as soon as you lose a bit of his warmth and touch

• Him sometimes grumbling drowsily and teasingly to you that you’re lucky that you don’t have to get up as early as he used to when he wanted to go hunting

• Him just too often feeling the urge to let himself fall back into the pillows next to you and just wrap his arms back around you and pull you tightly against his chest before realizing that once he’d do that he’d be lost and wouldn’t ever get out of bed

• Whenever he has to get up early for a shift or run, him really having an even harder time to release you out of his embrace and to get himself to leave your bed without you at his side

• Other times when you’re the one who has to get up early, him just keeping you in his arms for a while even though you have to get up and just really grumpily letting go of you

• Him actually really loving to feel you leaning against him for a bit as soon as you’re both sitting up in bed, only to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you closer to enjoy your closeness for a bit more

• Him often being the one to slowly crawl out of bed before standing in front of you, placing a kiss on top of your head and mumbling that you gotta stand up to get more

• At first, him being a bit overwhelmed and stunned when he sees how much of an effect this remark has on you before beginning to enjoy it even more over time, all while growing proud to see how much you want him


tagging:
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(In case you want to be tagged or untagged for specific things or everything I write, just let me know)

Yutyrannus huali, the Beautiful Feathered Tyrant!

The largest known non-avian dinosaur with undeniable evidence for feathers, and a distant cousin to T. rex! It had an early type of feathers, however, so if you were to come across it in life, it’d probably feel like your pet cat!

My friend said that this was the best drawing I’ve ever done :D I hope you guys like it too!!!

Fall morning, the colors are out, the wind is blowing, and I missed the rain…..Yay! A quiet 2 miles run with little miss Grace, then out to breakfast with a friend.

We took a walk thru downtown Bellingham after, and everyone else was up and out early for breakfast too. Lots of activity all around, which included a gentleman with MI (clearly psychotic, most likely meth induced) who fixated on me and was silently screaming at me as he stalked around me looking, and feeling, as if he were going to physically attack me. My adrenaline was way up there, but as non engagement felt safest, I kept my eyes on the street ahead, except when I could feel him literally right behind me with arms waving over me…. then I looked down and away, kept moving forward and talking to my friend. He stopped following me after a couple hundred feet.

He had been silently swearing at me (mouthing words in what looked like screams, staring me down) about 45 minutes earlier as well, when we passed by him, but he’d been sitting in a doorway with his belongings, so it didn’t feel threatening. Not quite sure why he was fixating on me, I didn’t recognize him as someone I knew from work? Although he could have been the man I met on Friday and during an attempt to engage him into services, told me to “get the fuck away from his door”.

Walking away from this morning’s situation, I was really surprised he didn’t hit me. I was waiting for it. Kind of freaked me out, but there’s that inner city part of me that’s used to no eye contact, walk forward, ignore whoever is coming at you, and keep your shit together.

Then I went to Target. That always calms me down. Halloween candy was bought.

anonymous asked:

Re aging and confidence, it's tough. I turned 48 this year and am single. Was in a long term relationship up until several years ago, and aside from not matching the person you see in the mirror, I've also discovered that you become invisible as a woman in your 40s. You think and feel the same as your 30s, but our ageist society sees you as other. Or mostly doesn't notice you at all.

I came up with four different answers for this.  However, the answer I kept coming back to was: Yes, and it sucks!!  What makes it suck even more is that it’s not just men that do it, women do it too.  Hollywood just reinforces it.  I can only think of a handful of tv episodes or movies that even address women in their late 40′s to early 50′s. Fried Green Tomatoes comes to mind as does the episode of Golden Girls when Blanche starts menopause.  Department stores definitely do not know what to do with us.  There’s nothing worse than really wanting a new outfit and standing between the jrs department and the women’s department.  I like what I see in the jrs, but there’s  no way in hell I’m getting my childbearing hips into those clothes. I look at the women’s and I’m just not ready for all my clothes to be floral prints and A-line. So I end up either at the make-up counter for new tube of something, the purse department or shoe department. I’m not the wise old crone or the hot young thing.  It sucks.  

After my horrible, rotten, no-good, very bad day, I turned to my Tumblr sisters because I’m not invisible here.  What I got was not pity but empathetic listening and sharing.  I’m glad you shared your experience with me.  You’re not invisible here.

mayathisismadness  asked:

Hey, I have been thinking a lot about s3 and about how left out Lance probably feels now that Keith is gone and Matt hangs out with Hunk and Pidge and how he spends his free time alone and I was wondering if you knew any fics where that is acknowledged and dealt with... I know it's probably too early to really find fics based around s3 stuff but still, I've been asking around.. hoping....

(im assuming u mean s4 haha)

theres not a lot of what u described so here’s some fics post s4!!

What You’re Fighting For by httpstiles

Matt had rationalized it in his head, but now he can’t look at Keith and think it was all that simple. Matt knows what happened the day of the fight, and he knows there were limited options, but he can’t help but wonder about what’s really going on in the boy’s head.

OR

Matt thinks certain things about Keith’s self-sacrificing acts, tries to talk to someone about talking to Keith, then can’t remember how he was almost blown up.

i want your heaven and your oceans too by mothpoem

“Not—not that you’d be my rebound! I mean, you’d be helping me take my mind off of this guy, but to be a rebound, I’d have to have dated him first, I think, and he doesn’t even know I like him, so. You wouldn’t be a rebound. At worst, we become badass partners-in-crime with a grudging respect for each other, at best, we’re soulmates for life and this is fate trying to help us find happiness. So. Um.” Lance swallows and looks up at the Blade of Marmora soldier through his lashes. “What say you?”

They look down at their hands for a moment, fingers twisting together in deep thought. Then they’re pulling their gloves off, revealing pale, half-bruised knuckles of the human variation, and their mask is dissolving, giving way to big blue-purple eyes and an achingly familiar jet-black cowlick. “Who,” says Keith Kogane, in that low-pitched rumble that makes Lance’s stomach roil in the good way—holy fuck—“is this guy you’re trying to get over?”

Monachopsis by hiuythn

He’s fine in the beginning—always been fine alone. But eventually, it takes a toll.


Lance exhales forcefully, scratching at his temple. “I know you said it wasn’t your thing, but…I mean, you weren’t all that bad.” He stares down at his hands. “You listened. After that thing with Lotor, you never went off on your own, never let any one of us fall behind. Don’t get me wrong, Shiro doesn’t either—but…we were partners.”

He looks up at the ceiling, at the wall, at the floor. “I don’t know, I guess I’m saying I miss you.”

Keith feels all the air leaves his lungs.

no paladin left behind by sassysunshine

Keith and Lance discuss the Thing at the end of S04E06.

“Yeah,” Keith croaks. “I was. My life versus the fate of the universe…guess it wasn’t a hard decision.”

Keith drops his gaze from the window to the floor, and Lance watches his eyes turn glassy. “I wanted to make it up to you guys. For not being there. I would…I would do it again.”

Lance’s heart splinters.

Things That Nearly Happened [TWiFFON]

So. 

It’s been a while since I started TWiFFON, and for those of you who’ve seen the outline-fic-idea-thing that kick-started this entire mess, you’ve probably seen the deviations from what I’d initially planned, even now. 

Some of the bigger changes were because as I went along, and time passed, I couldn’t help but feel that the early draft was overly vindictive. This is meant to be self-indulgent, yes, but as it is I’m herding cats and dogs to keep everything on track, and just bashing for no reason sounds exhausting on a level I’m trying to not think too hard about [cough emotions cough]. 

So, a bit of a roll-call as to what’s changed since I posted the first chapter, and up to now. Plus some commentary on the process, because why not. Under the cut, because it got pretty damn long [you guys know how I roll].

Keep reading

one of my favourite feelings is looking at the time in the evening and realising it’s still early enough for me to have a couple more hours to enjoy before I go to bed

time goes too fast for me when I have things I want to do and finally feel motivated enough to do them

so I was re-watching 12′s first episode and he was talking to the droid and said something to the effect of ‘you’ve been replacing your parts over and over, there’s nothing original there anymore, you aren’t you anymore’ and after the finale and seeing 12′s current reaction to the thought of regenerating again, can I just say, from the bottom of my heart…..ow.

4

October 10 is World Mental Health Day, so let’s talk about how we can end the stigma surrounding mental health 🌱

🗨 TALK🗨

Start a dialogue about your own experiences
💖 Mental Health is still stigmatized and that can make it difficult to talk about openly, but the more we talk, the more we help to normalize the discussion. But it’s not just about helping the world see Mental Health differently, but about your perception too; talking about your problems can help you work through them, and see them in a more realistic light, and it helps the people around you understand your needs.

Challenge incorrect information
💖 If you see someone spreading incorrect information about mental health, be brave and step in. Remind people that mental illnesses are disorders of the brain, and are usually due to chemical imbalances, in the same way that disorders of other organs might be due to a vitamin deficiency, or the body not being able to produce the right amount of hormones.

Ask others about their experiences
💖 Encourage others to talk about their own mental health issues, if they feel comfortable doing so.  

💭 LISTEN💭

Provide a judgement-free environment
💖 Sometimes people just need to vent, rather than have a discussion, and as well-meaning as you might be you need to respect that. Ask if they’d like to discuss their issues or if they’d just like to vent and be given a sympathetic shoulder to lean on. Mental Illness can make us hyper sensitive to perceived criticism, and feel unable to open up. Create a judgement-free environment by giving them your full attention, and by allowing people to talk at their own pace, without interruption.

Ask what they need, don’t assume
💖 What we need and what someone else needs might be two different things, so ask and listen to what someone says when they talk about their needs. It might be tempting to think “they’re just being lazy” or “if I give them a push they’ll get there eventually”, but respecting their wishes is not just about whether or not they know best. Ask them if they need their boundaries pushed, or if today is a good day to try. There will be days where they are more open to pushing their boundaries. If you force them too early you may deter them from trying again, and it may hurt their trust in you.  

💬 CHECK💬

Check in
💖 Now’s a good time to check up on the people around you. Don’t just say hello, ask how they are feeling; specifically how they feel mental-health wise. It becomes a habit to say “I’m fine”, even when you’re not, and mental illness makes it harder to be forthcoming with how we feel. Give them the option to say “well, now that you mention it…” instead of the usual small talk.

Check up
💖 Have you been ignoring your own mental health needs? Procrastinating on getting proper professional help? Now’s a good time to make an appointment with your GP for a check up!

Check yourself
💖 Even the most open-minded of us need to keep our own privilege and bias in-check. If you hear someone talk about an issue or symptom they face that you think might be exaggerated, made-up, or their own fault, consider that your own bias, privilege, or lack of understanding may be clouding your judgement. Everyone’s experiences are different, so try to remember not to compare. Have a judgement-free discussion, give advice or offer alternatives, but in the end: trust THEIR judgement of THEIR situation.

(Technically it’s the 15th since it’s 1:38am)

So there’s one bit near the end of the Genocide Run that hit me pretty hard, personally. And as with most things that hit me very hard emotionally, it was a random almost throwaway line that wasn’t written to be focused on that much. But whether it intentionally held the meaning I took from it or not, it doesn’t change the fact that I DID take meaning from it.

When Flowey is monologuing near the very very end of the game and explaining what he went through, he talks about how he lacks the ability to feel anything for the people around him, and how desperately, frantically, he wishes he did. He talks about how, at first, he tried to help people. He talks about how at first it seemed to help, but every time it was time to let go, to move on, he got scared and couldn’t do it. He’d panic and reset instead. And how then he’d be right back where he started. And he would try helping everyone again.

But it became hollow. Everyone always said the exact same things, and did the exact same things. And nothing changed. And nothing new ever happened.

And eventually, just out of sheer desperation for SOMETHING new, he decided to kill everyone. And how that was at first a relief, but even that grew stale and empty as he did it over and over again. Until he was left with nothing, and there was nothing to care about, either for better or worse, but he couldn’t let go either. So he was trapped in this world where nothing ever changed, and he couldn’t make himself leave.

It’s a sad story, but it’s also a bit of a gut punch because of its implications.

Maybe in time, the person playing the game, the actual human being behind the keyboard, not the pixel character they control, would find themselves in the exact same situation. Eventually, things in a game stop changing. Characters always say the same things, do the same things. And maybe in time, as boredom takes over, the player would also try a genocide game just for SOMETHING new. But eventually even that will become empty and lead to nowhere after you do it enough.

I can’t really say if that’s true or not. I can’t say it’s false either.

But It’s 2 years now. And a lot of us are still here. And more importantly a lot of us still care. Quite deeply in fact.

And maybe we won’t care forever, maybe the same thing will happen, or more likely, we’d be the ones able to let go and move on to other things and let go. Maybe there’s no escaping that.

But it’s been 2 years, and at least for now, we’re still here.

There is also the possibility I’ve considered, that since the insane success of the game was never expected or anticipated at all, that the level of love it caused in gamers was a complete and utter surprise, maybe their ability to never fall into that cycle of apathy and just how long they can keep going, caring as hard as ever, will also be a complete surprise that was never foreseen.

Or even more simply, maybe Flowey just needed to be shown, as with so many things, he was wrong about that too.

Who knows. Honestly I can’t say how things will look in time. It could either way.


But at least by year 2 we were still here.

3

it might only be 25th November BUT that doesn’t mean i can’t draw christmas art xD!!! haha so here you go! some happy sterek family christmas fanarts ;U;!

(i still need to figure it out how i’ll put this on a mug and all of that so i can post it on Redbubble as well xD! soon! i promise)

AfterBuzz Interview Quote:

Interviewer: Last season, in terms of Netflix dropping episodes, was so much about trying to build up Keith’s confidence as a leader, and now we immediately see him basically getting to step out of that role. So what was sort of the decision, I guess, behind that?

Joaquim: I mean, I think he’s always been reluctant to be in that position, so I think it’s part of his makeup, it’s part of his character. … You know, Pidge tried pulling something very similar early on, and Keith was like, “What are you doing?” So I think this is also a nice turn. It shows their growth as a team, it shows their understanding of each other’s personal needs.

Lauren: And it’s also a situation where you’ve got one paladin too many. We only need five to form Voltron. Had Shiro stayed gone, Keith would have absolutely been there and been that leader. But he sees Shiro’s back, and I think he feels like he can’t fill those shoes. And so, it almost makes him want to pull back more, and he’s trying to almost force Shiro to retake that position. Because he never feels like he can adequately take his place.

Lauren and Joaquim talk about Keith stepping aside from Voltron

Ok, friends. I have a confession to make…

I have been keeping this secret for what feels like an age and it had got to the point that I couldn’t really breathe with the weight of it.

I just got out of spending my ENTIRE FRIDAY evening with @taylorswift ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️❗️

I daren’t dream it… Taylor herself invited me (‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️❗️) to spend Friday night with her and listen to her new album early……. and I got to sit right by her side as we listened to the whole thing…. LITERALLY SAT AT HER SNAKE BOOTED FEET TRYING NOT TO HAVE AN ANYRISM?!?!!?!!

I hope it won’t be too long before y'all can trust me again… because I love you. 😭😭😭😭

The Adventures of Todd and Granny

(Alternatively: “I Saw Granny Ethel with the Devil”)

Part I | Part II | Part III


Grocery Store



Todd the demon is a he, now, if only because Granny Ethel insists upon using copious ‘Dear boy, keep trying and ‘Atta boy!’ critiques to varying degrees depending on how well his needlework, crochet, and knitting attempts progress.

Gender isn’t a concept the demon concerned himself with before. If Todd had been, say, a girl named Tonya, he supposes he’d be a she instead. If Todd had been gender-neutral and properly communicated with his grandmother, he supposes she would call him they or child, appropriately. Granny Ethel isn’t one to discriminate. Even when she properly wears her glasses and sees his obviously un-Todd-like appearance, only shaking her head and smiling with a good-natured “kids these days” on her lips. But he wouldn’t mind if Granny Ethel called him boy, girl, thing, or abomination, so long as she stayed happy.

Granny Ethel is a patient woman. Todd simply can’t understand why or how she’d become the black sheep of her family, especially after a full week of living with her hospitality. Through the constant baked goods and the modest but satisfying three-meals-a-day; the careful (oh-so-careful) dusting of trinkets and bookshelves with tiny cloths and feather dusters not fit for large claws, which he insists upon doing while she looks on in worry before brewing more coffee; the midday television re-run breaks spent sealing cash donations into envelopes and discussing human rights issues instead of watching old shows, he simply can’t think of her as anything but a paragon of her kind.

It’s a problem with them, he concludes. Not her.

It isn’t a decision he makes lightly.

Spending such a brief time with her, he’s already learned so much more about humans than he ever would have cared to know, beyond perceiving them as vessels or a means to an end. There is much suffering in the world—sometimes even more than that in Hell—but there is also kindness.

He’s known that, but he witnesses it first hand during their first trip outside of Granny Ethel’s home.

“Come, now, Todd, we have much shopping to do. I’m afraid my pantry isn’t stocked appropriately for the upcoming food donation drive and I can’t just skip it this month.”

Todd remembers addressing an envelope to the local food bank—most people would stop there, figuring their good deed was done.

“I also have to stock up on this week’s groceries. Feel free to buy whatever you want, dear. I can cook anything, you know! At least, I try. I suppose you’d like some snacks, too. But I am so glad you’re here; think of all the bags we can carry between the two of us!”

There is no car in Granny Ethel’s driveway, or a garage to store it. He wonders how they’re going to make it to the grocery store as he waits for her to lock the door behind them, as she hobbles down the two small concrete steps with her cane in hand.

It isn’t until she’s halfway down the sidewalk that he realizes they’re walking. In public.

An old crone in black and a demon at her side, wearing a handmade shawl so lovingly stitched with various, terrifying occult symbols.

He isn’t the only one who sees a problem with this—the neighbor’s dog, a small, bug-eyed thing, yaps indignantly at them from the front lawn as it bounces around the dewy grass at its owner’s feet, soon erupting in warning yowls and howls, before falling silent mid-yip when Todd locks eyes with it. The neighbor—Maurice, if he remembers Granny Ethel’s gossip correctly—stands frozen, watering can dangling limp from his hand as he overwaters the begonias at his feet, mouth hanging open in undignified disbelief.

“Good morning, Maurice!” Granny Ethel calls with unmitigated cheer, and a hint of pride. “Nice morning, isn’t it? Oh! Have you met my wonderful grandson Todd? He finally came to visit! We’re going shopping now. Will you watch my house?”

Maurice simply stares, dumb with shock.

Halfway down the block, another neighbor’s car brakes with a squeal before they make it out of the driveway and they stick their head out of the window to gape.

Shutters crack open. Curtains are shoved aside.

Before Todd knows it, they are the cul-de-sac’s center of attention.

Granny Ethel doesn’t pay it any mind and continues obliviously on, waving to each face in turn as those faces pale, yet hers remains rosy.

“My, such a busy day today. I haven’t seen everyone out like this since the Fourth of July block party. Oh, if you’re still here during summer, Todd, we should definitely take part. Maybe we should start knitting an American flag for the occasion. What do you think?”

He can only nod.




They make it to the grocery store without incident—aside from the broken fire hydrant caused by a distracted driver and the one, single person who ran away screaming, and the handful that crossed themselves, and the one person bold enough to snap a picture with their phone before Todd grabbed it from their hands and threw it while Granny Ethel wasn’t looking, too distracted with how well the city’s roadside flowers were blooming—and Todd, ever the gentledemon, takes a small shopping cart from its line and trails behind Granny Ethel as she consults the list taken from her purse.

As expected, those within the store stop and stare. Even the calming elevator music jolts to a pause.

A young man in an employee vest, who looks high, shoots Todd the demon-horn hand sign and smiles before swaggering away to the frozen food aisle, and the manager meekly approaches them, skirting around a fresh fruit display.

“Ma’am, is there—is there something I can—do you need help?” he asks, sweating from his receding hairline to his neck as he tugs at his collar and straightens his frumpy tie.

“Oh! I’m so glad you asked. I didn’t see any sales circulars by the door—what kind of specials are on right now? Particularly on things like pizzas and cereals and whatever else young men like to eat.” Granny Ethel leans in close to the man, close enough to loudly whisper, “See, my grandson here is a quiet, shy boy despite his appearance, and I don’t think he’d ask me himself, but I bet he’d love to get some junk food to snack on between meals.”

The manager’s eyes widen, blood-shot, as he looks to Todd, who only smiles—which comes off as terrifying, he’s certain, with all the sharp teeth and red eyes involved.

“S-SURE! Junk food. Right. Um—uh, w-well, I think there’s a BOGO—buy one get one free—deal on the frozen pizzas. Uh…most cereals are marked down right now…th-there’s a sale on potato chips…hot dogs…” His voice trails off, too burdened with trembles and fear as he continues to hold Todd’s gaze. “And—you know, I’m sure some other employee can help you, ma’am. I’m not one anymore as of this moment. I QUIT.” That said, he yanks the flimsy plastic nametag from his shirt and runs for the door, followed by half of the shoppers who abandon their carts and drop their baskets, scattering groceries everywhere.

Granny Ethel watches him go, then sighs. “He must have been overworked and stressed. I almost walked out on a job a long time ago for the same reasons, but I needed it. You be careful of corporate America, Todd.”

He takes her words to heart, and he fully agrees.

Shoppers that remain in the grocery mart avoid them at all costs as they meander through the frozen food section, the bread aisle, the junk food corner—and Granny Ethel pays them no mind, filling the cart to the brim with refills of groceries she needs back at home and treats she thinks Todd needs more of in his life. He supposes he does, if she says he does. Far be it from him to contradict her adolescent-savvy wisdom.

Even so, the single shopping cart is far too small for all of the spoils—halfway through the shopping list, he finds them in need of another. It isn’t an issue. Many are left scattered, abandoned, around almost every corner. By the end of the list, both carts are full to the brim, and Granny Ethel is simply beaming.

The checkout lines are deserted—they have their pick. Although only one station is manned by a clerk, and it greatly narrows their choice.

As Todd wheels the two shopping carts to the register, he recognizes the young employee from before, who once again shoots him the demon-horn hand symbol.

“Love your poncho, dude,” Sam (as his nametag reads) comments with a bit of a tired drawl, and there are dark shadows under his eyes as expected from an overworked youth on minimum wage, but he is otherwise energetic, quickly scanning each of the items set on the conveyor belt, and smiling at demon and old woman in turn. “Did the little lady here knit that for you?”

“Crocheted!” Granny Ethel corrects with a grin, preening like a proud parakeet. “It does suit him, doesn’t it? Of course, I would never make something that didn’t suit my dear grandson. He must always be well-dressed.”

“You seem like a really supportive gramma. That’s cool. When I was in my super hardcore death metal phase, mine just dragged me to church every Sunday.” A digital beep accompanies nearly every word as he skillfully rings up each grocery down the line.

“Oh, I would never do that. Mainly because I no longer belong to a church. And also because Todd seems so averse to discussing Bible passages, so I never force him.”

At this, Todd gives a wry smile. He places the final handful of groceries onto the conveyor belt and sidles around Granny to the other side of the checkout, bagging the groceries that have already been scanned. It seems the official bag boy has fled in fright.

“I can imagine. Never one for religion, myself. Oh, and you’re eligible for the senior citizen’s discount, so let me just…” Sam pauses a moment to key in a code on the register and it dings. “Aaand, there. Your total comes out to $204.56. Stocking up for the winter already? It’s only March.”

“Oh, dear, no. Half of this is for the food drive!” Granny Ethel chuckles good-naturedly as she leans her cane against the counter and digs through her small pocketbook and produces a checkbook, then dives back in to search for her favorite pen.

Sam turns to Todd while awaiting payment. “By the way, dude, that costume is killer. I’ve never seen anything so realistic, with the added bonus that you scared the boss away! Totally made my day. My week, even.”

Todd gives a nod, happy to be of service, even if it isn’t a costume. He can’t exactly say it aloud. Perhaps one day he’ll learn how to speak English coherently, but for now nonverbal cues work just fine.

Finally, Granny Ethel finds her pink, plastic jewel-encrusted ballpoint pen and makes out a check to DeVille-Mart, even going so far as to take one of the heavier paper bags for herself, never one to make Todd carry all of the groceries himself. “You have a wonderful day, young man. Thank you.”

“Y’all have a great day, too, Ma’am.” Sam offers a toothy smile, and it seems sincere enough as he sees them off with a lazy wave “Hope to be seeing you shop here again.”

Todd isn’t so sure they’ll ever return once upper management hears about this visit, but it’s nice to know they are accepted by at least one individual.

“Now, Todd, let’s get to the food bank. We have such a long day ahead of us. But there’s a reward at the end of it—I bought ingredients specifically for chocolate turtle brownies!”

If the visit to the food bank is in any way similar to this excursion—and it will be, he decides, as yet another gawking driver’s car slow-collides with the corner vending machine when they pass through the automatic doors—they have a long day ahead of them, indeed.

My heart is bursting with how loved I feel as a fan thanks to Niall releasing versions of the Slow Hands lyrics mv in different lenguages. He is so sweet and him and his team are doing everything right showing the fans, even the international ones, that they matter, because the small gestures are the ones that mark the difference.

BTS Scenario: Morning Sex Maknae line

Warnings: SMUT and a light choking kink with one of the maknae members…you’ve been warned.

Requested by anon: A bts reaction to morning sex. 

I did it in a scenario format instead. Enjoy everyone!

Here’s hyung line :) 


Park Jimin:

You turned around to give Jimin a hug, but instead was met with emptiness, the warmth of his spot was all that lingered, signs that he had just gotten up. Groggily, you got up to survey the house, wanting nothing but to hug your boyfriend, who’d just gotten back late that night from a long tour, and found him making some coffee in the kitchen.

To your unknowing luck, he only had on a pair of black and red plaid pajama pants that hung just right around his waist. The hug you had wanted earlier turned into something more as his strong, chiseled back muscles that flexed with every small movement, so you walked up behind him, running your hands up his warm back and around his waist.

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Bruised (Richie/Eddie) 9/12

Summary: It’s 1993 and the summer from many years ago is dead and gone. Many have drifted apart from the Losers club and its at the point where there is no club at all. The atmosphere is cold just like the winter months and the only blushes to be found are the ones that are caused from the piercing spikes of cold that heat skin up. Being a teenage boy is hard; especially for the two boys that now count each other as strangers. In which both boys make a plan, but both disrupt each others.

Warning(s): Intimate make-out session, hickeys, parental abuse, angst

A/N: Sorry for the delay on this chapter, I hope it was worth the wait- if not then i’d be so disappointed sksk but hey ho, here’s an extra long chapter!

PART 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 (Soon) | …

Eddie continued to tend Richie’s wounds throughout the night, with the windows steaming up from the heat inside the room in contrast to the freezing air outside. After Richie’s warming words, Eddie barely formed words for an hour or so and solely focused upon fixing Richie up despite Richie’s protests to his cuts stinging and how he was being covered in superman bandages, but Eddie just rolled his eyes and chose to ignore the boy and his ways.

Richie had his head against the wall as he sat on the perfectly white carpet beneath him, he stared directly at his fingertips with a warm feeling in his stomach.

“So, you’re staying here, right?” Eddie asked, his legs folded upon his neat bed after cleaning away the first aid kit.

Richie drifted his gaze to Eddie, “I don’t have too, I just had no where to go.”

“You can stay!” Eddie quickly spoke, his words overflowing, “It’s just that I was wondering and, well, my Mom would flip shit if she saw you- so.. so I’ll have to hide you. We also only have my Dad’s old clothes, my clothes won’t fit.”

Richie managed to form a lop sided grin, listening to each melodic sound that came from Eddie Kaspbrak. Everything about the boy was phenomenal, overall outstanding. From his neat hair, to his messy mindset. From his soft brown eyes, to the crevice of his lips. Richie was in awe of what standards this boy had to even look in Richie Tozier’s way, never mind welcome him with open arms into his living space.

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