it was a late night venture

some asks to ask me in my ask section thingy whatever it’s called
  1. How long have you had your studyblr?
  2. Why did you decide to make your studyblr?
  3. Do you have any other blogs besides your studyblr?
  4. How did you venture into the studyblr community?
  5. Did you have good study habits before making this blog?
  6. Have you made any friends through your studyblr?
  7. What do you think about the studyblr community?
  8. Do you do your homework as soon as you get home or late at night?
  9. What is your favorite stationery?
  10. What is your favorite piece of stationery you own?
  11. What kinds of pens do you prefer?
  12. Favorite book you’ve read for school?
  13. Favorite studying apps?
  14. What advice about studying changed your life?
  15. What quote has impacted you the most?
  16. What do you do when you’re feeling unmotivated?
  17. Have you ever felt not good enough?
  18. What is your organization system for school?
  19. How has having this blog changed you?
  20. Do any of your friends from school know you have a studyblr?
  21. What is your dream job?
  22. How do you bounce back from a bad grade?
  23. Biggest academic achievement?
  24. Do you keep a bullet journal? What was the last entry in it?
  25. What is your favorite subject?
  26. What is your least favorite subject?
  27. Are you athletic?
  28. What colleges are you looking at?
  29. Are you interested in the arts? Which ones?
  30. What majors are you thinking about?
  31. What extracurricular activities do you take part in?
  32. Do you need coffee to study?
  33. Do you pull all-nighters often?
  34. Do you drink energy drinks?
  35. Who has been a role model for you in your academic life?
  36. Do you have a favorite professor?
  37. Do you prefer to study with or without music?
  38. Do you prefer to study alone or with friends?
  39. What is your ideal way of learning?
  40. Do you do well with lectures?
  41. What is your note-taking strategy?
  42. Do you like giving presentations in class?
  43. How do you feel about group projects?
  44. Have you ever lost a friend because of something academic?
  45. What are some changes you would make in your school?
  46. Are you friends with any of the staff at your school?
  47. Do you go to the library to study often?
  48. Do you usually do your research online or from a book?
  49. Are you taking the SAT or ACT soon?
  50. What SAT subject tests have you taken?
  51. What APs have you taken? (+ scores if you’re comfortable)
  52. Are your notes usually color coded?
  53. Does the Pomodoro technique work for you?
  54. How do you feel about highlighting?
  55. Do you read your textbooks? How often?
  56. How good are you at aesthetic shots of your studying?
  57. How do you feel about school dress codes?
  58. Is your locker organized?
  59. Do you use loose leaf paper or notebooks for notes?
  60. Do you prefer to learn by yourself or through an instructor?
  61. What languages do you know?
  62. How often do you ask for extra help from a teacher?
  63. Do you consider yourself responsible?
  64. How do you keep track of important deadlines/events?
  65. Do you go out often during the weekdays?
  66. How do you balance social life with school life?
  67. Do you have a tutor for any subjects?
  68. Do you always do your homework? Even if it’s not due?
  69. Do you use your school planner?
  70. How do you file your papers at home?
  71. Do you use binders or accordion folders?
  72. Has a relationship ever distracted you from school?
  73. What’s a mistake you’ll never make again in school?
  74. Do you do extra work for classes?
  75. Do you feel like you have a teacher to ask for recommendations?
  76. Do you prefer top or bottom lockers?
  77. Do you get lockers by your friends?
  78. Do you prefer having classes with or without your friends?
  79. Do you consider yourself just smart or hard working?
  80. Does your school have uniforms?
  81. Do you wear make up to school?
  82. Do you have enough time to dress up in the mornings?
  83. What is your favorite breakfast food before school?
  84. Do you take the bus or car to school?
  85. Do you always write important things down?
  86. How many alarms do you have in the morning?
  87. Do you prefer studying in the morning or in the evening/night?
  88. Do you prefer having your hardest class first or last?
  89. What is your school’s schedule?
  90. Do you tend to skip out on parties or hang outs to study?
  91. Do you legitimately enjoy studying?
  92. What is your favorite topic to study?
  93. What is your favorite way to study?
  94. Do you study in your bed?
  95. How do you feel about sororities?
  96. What is your rooming preference for college?
  97. Does your desk face a window or a wall?
  98. Do you prefer natural or artificial lighting when studying?
  99. Do you use flashcards often?
  100. What’s the highest grade you’ve gotten on an assignment you BSed?
  101. Some of your favorite studyblrs?
  102. Do you consider yourself lazy?
  103. Are you a slut for stationery?
  104. 3 things you like about school
  105. 3 things you dislike about school
  106. this is it! list isn’t mine btw.

I wonder what Tyler’s relationship with No Phun Intended is.

Does he still know the notes to Drown,
And does his humming ever have Taken By Sleep’s sound?
Late at night, as he lies in his beds,
Do the chords of Blasphemy ever play in his head?
Are there days that he has to venture to his parent’s basement,
And wonder where the sadness in that room went?
Does older Tyler ever stand on the stage before a show,
And think of the black sky and ocean he used to know?
Does he ever whisper as the crowd cheers back,
“My ocean shines blue now, it is no longer black.”

StudyBlr Asks

I didn’t know what to do for surpassing my 600 followers goal but then I realized everyone loves getting asks so I made some that were Studyblr themed :)

  1. How long have you had your studyblr?
  2. Why did you decide to make your studyblr?
  3. Do you have any other blogs besides your studyblr?
  4. How did you venture into the studyblr community?
  5. Did you have good study habits before making this blog?
  6. Have you made any friends through your studyblr?
  7. What do you think about the studyblr community?
  8. Do you do your homework as soon as you get home or late at night?
  9. What is your favorite stationery?
  10. What is your favorite piece of stationery you own?
  11. What kinds of pens do you prefer?
  12. Favorite book you’ve read for school?
  13. Favorite studying apps?
  14. What advice about studying changed your life?
  15. What quote has impacted you the most?
  16. What do you do when you’re feeling unmotivated?
  17. Have you ever felt not good enough?
  18. What is your organization system for school?
  19. How has having this blog changed you?
  20. Do any of your friends from school know you have a studyblr?
  21. What is your dream job?
  22. How do you bounce back from a bad grade?
  23. Biggest academic achievement?
  24. Do you keep a bullet journal? What was the last entry in it?
  25. What is your favorite subject?
  26. What is your least favorite subject?
  27. Are you athletic? 
  28. What colleges are you looking at?
  29. Are you interested in the arts? Which ones?
  30. What majors are you thinking about?
  31. What extracurricular activities do you take part in?
  32. Do you need coffee to study?
  33. Do you pull all-nighters often?
  34. Do you drink energy drinks?
  35. Who has been a role model for you in your academic life?
  36. Do you have a favorite professor?
  37. Do you prefer to study with or without music?
  38. Do you prefer to study alone or with friends?
  39. What is your ideal way of learning?
  40. Do you do well with lectures?
  41. What is your note-taking strategy?
  42. Do you like giving presentations in class?
  43. How do you feel about group projects?
  44. Have you ever lost a friend because of something academic?
  45. What are some changes you would make in your school?
  46. Are you friends with any of the staff at your school?
  47. Do you go to the library to study often?
  48. Do you usually do your research online or from a book?
  49. Are you taking the SAT or ACT soon?
  50. What SAT subject tests have you taken?
  51. What APs have you taken? (+ scores if you’re comfortable)
  52. Are your notes usually color coded?
  53. Does the Pomodoro technique work for you?
  54. How do you feel about highlighting?
  55. Do you read your textbooks? How often?
  56. How good are you at aesthetic shots of your studying?
  57. How do you feel about school dress codes?
  58. Is your locker organized?
  59. Do you use loose leaf paper or notebooks for notes?
  60. Do you prefer to learn by yourself or through an instructor?
  61. What languages do you know?
  62. How often do you ask for extra help from a teacher?
  63. Do you consider yourself responsible?
  64. How do you keep track of important deadlines/events?
  65. Do you go out often during the weekdays?
  66. How do you balance social life with school life?
  67. Do you have a tutor for any subjects?
  68. Do you always do your homework? Even if it’s not due?
  69. Do you use your school planner?
  70. How do you file your papers at home?
  71. Do you use binders or accordion folders?
  72. Has a relationship ever distracted you from school?
  73. What’s a mistake you’ll never make again in school?
  74. Do you do extra work for classes? 
  75. Do you feel like you have a teacher to ask for recommendations?
  76. Do you prefer top or bottom lockers?
  77. Do you get lockers by your friends?
  78. Do you prefer having classes with or without your friends?
  79. Do you consider yourself just smart or hard working?
  80. Does your school have uniforms?
  81. Do you wear make up to school?
  82. Do you have enough time to dress up in the mornings?
  83. What is your favorite breakfast food before school?
  84. Do you take the bus or car to school?
  85. Do you always write important things down?
  86. How many alarms do you have in the morning?
  87. Do you prefer studying in the morning or in the evening/night?
  88. Do you prefer having your hardest class first or last?
  89. What is your school’s schedule?
  90. Do you tend to skip out on parties or hang outs to study?
  91. Do you legitimately enjoy studying?
  92. What is your favorite topic to study?
  93. What is your favorite way to study?
  94. Do you study in your bed?
  95. How do you feel about sororities?
  96. What is your rooming preference for college?
  97. Does your desk face a window or a wall?
  98. Do you prefer natural or artificial lighting when studying?
  99. Do you use flashcards often?
  100. What’s the highest grade you’ve gotten on an assignment you BSed?
  101. Some of your favorite studyblrs?
  102. Do you consider yourself lazy?
  103. Are you a slut for stationery?
  104. 3 things you like about school
  105. 3 things you dislike about school

Feel free to ask me any of these & reblog them for your followers to ask you too! [Questions might be added as I think of more]

Stay Quiet

“Hey, Dean.” Castiel looked up from his paper and cup of coffee when Dean stumbled into the kitchen, still groggy from another late night working. “Can I get you some breakfast?”

Dean shook his head and went straight to the coffee pot. He poured himself a cup and doctored it to his liking before taking a seat next to Cas. He held the hot mug tightly in both hands, venturing a small sip before committing to a bigger one.

“You came in late.” Cas said. Dean didn’t acknowledge him at all, and Cas had to suppress a laugh. Fuckin’ ray of sunshine in the morning.

“Did you have a good time with Sam?”

Dean shrugged and drank more coffee.

“I’m going in for a meeting this morning, but I might be home early. Everyone’s coming for movie night tonight.”

That caught a smile at least. Castiel got up and put his dishes in the sink and then grabbed his bag by the door. Dean watched him the whole way and Cas came back to kiss him. “I love you. Text if you need anything?”

Dean nodded and laid his head on the table. Cas rubbed his back and leaned down to kiss him again, just behind the ear. “Maybe a nap?” he whispered and kissed him again before he had to go.

******************

“I don’t know why we even wasted the time on this case.” Castiel complained to Charlie as he tossed folders onto the looming stack on his desk. .

“At least they paid us for it?”

“But they essentially voted to continue alienating their customers. I don’t understand-” Castiel cut himself off and took a deep breath. “I want a better screening process. I don’t like putting my time into people who don’t actually care about their customers.”

“I know. I’ll look at the interview process and see what we can change.” Charlie said. She started out of Castiel’s office, but he spoke just as she started to close the door.

“You’re still coming tonight, right?”

Charlie popped her head back in. “Would I miss a Friday night movie?”

“Good. Dean is always happy to see you.”

Charlie nodded and cleared her throat. “So…. any progress? With Dean?”

Castiel turned his eyes back to his computer screen. This question. It was the one he hated the most and the one most frequently asked by everyone but Sam and Jess.

“He’s doing really well. He’s working with a gallery again, so he’s really happy about that.”

Charlie nodded, but didn’t push further. Cas knew she would evaluate for herself when she saw Dean that evening.

“Okay. He seems like he’s in a good place the last few times I’ve been over.”

Castiel nodded. “He is. You look at the interview stuff and I’ll close out this case, okay?”

“Sure thing.” She said, and closed the door behind her.

If someone had told Cas right after the incident that their lives would change and be better for it, he would have punched them right in the face. No shit, it changed. There was the surgery to remove the ruptured spleen and then another to put his arm back together and then physical therapy that kept him in the hospital for a few weeks. They were managing it all well, but when the doctors concluded that the loss of Dean’s speech was due to the psychological trauma and not physical injury, Cas hadn’t known what to do with that information. He knew vaguely that this had happened to Dean before, but not the details. In the meeting with the doctor and the therapist Sam and Bobby tried to reconstruct what they knew- Dean had gone three months without speaking after witnessing his mother’s death in a house fire, and almost six months after his father died in an accident that almost killed a teenage Dean and Sam as well. A nearly fatal mugging certainly fit the pattern of trauma induced selective mutism that Dean had adopted.

But now, five months in and all of his physical injuries healed, Dean and Cas had adopted a second language that only they spoke. When they were both home it was quiet. Dean no longer filled empty space with conversation, and Cas had never felt the need to in the first place. Instead they sat close and conversed through touch and an elaborate use of eye expressions. Before the incident Sam has called it eye fucking, but now it was conversation.

It was amazing how much they could say to each other now with just a look. Castiel already had three years of practice in reading Dean’s expressions, but now he was an expert. For the first few months he found himself always trying to find any hint of discomfort or stress in Dean’s face, but now he could read most everything if Dean didn’t close himself off during his depressive days.

Castiel opened files and sorted papers, consulting his computer a few times, but ultimately after several minutes had to admit to himself that he was just moving things around without actually accomplishing anything. It was okay to take a break, right? He stood and stretched, and almost on cue his phone buzzed with a text from Dean.

Going out tonight instead of movie

Everyone is already planning to come to our place.

They are coming with us. Dinner

Everyone?

Yes

Do I need to make a reservation?

Sam did

Okay. I will be home soon. Did you catch a nap?

I’m working

Cas sat back down in his chair. He needed to work too, but he just couldn’t think. After looking around at the stacks he’d made earlier, he made a deal with himself to leave as soon as he closed out the case.

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Your Love Bizarre

OK folks, I have combined three challenges into this doozy! All prompts will be in bold; song lyrics in italics. Also a shout out to @ilostmyshoe-79 and a really late birthday fic!!

@chelsea072498‘s Prince’s Let’s Go Crazy Challenge: The song I choose was “Love Bizarre” with Sheila E and my prompt is: Seeking shelter from the storm, they made their first mistake.

@melissaj616‘s Follower and Birthday Celebration: My prompt is:  “Maybe I have a few secrets you haven’t discovered yet.” (HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY!!)

@iwantthedean‘s SoCo Summer Writing Challenge and my prompt is:  “I will be singing only to you.”

Although not SUPER kinky, it is probably the kinkiest smut I have ever smutted. 

Word Count: just shy of 3200

Warnings: Threesome, use of a DP strap on; DP; Dom/Sub relations; Skype sex; anal sex, vaginal sex, all kinds of sex, unprotected sex, cum feeding

Pairing: Dean x Reader x Sam (no Wincest)

A huge thank you to @helvonasche, @madamelibrarian and @when-the-day–met-the-night for the beta. 

NSFW image under the cut

Originally posted by shaabanahmontana

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The “Green Man” is an urban legend which originated in Pennsylvania and is said to be a glowing supernatural entity or a demon which wanders the country roads at night. This is one urban legend that has truth behind it and the truth is a lot more upsetting than scary.

In 1918, Raymond Robinson, who was just a young boy, was climbing on a train track bridge to get a closer look at some birds when he was electrocuted. The shock sent 22,000 volts of electricity through his body and literally melted his face - he lost both of his eyes, his nose, an ear, and even an arm. As Raymond grew up, he was bullied by other kids, who mocked him by calling him cruel names such as “The Zombie” and because of this, he chose to stay indoors. The very rare time he would venture outside was at nights when he would walk along State Route 351 with his walking stick. Locals caught wind of this and would go out at night in an attempt to catch a glimpse of Raymond - some would mock him as he walked alone while others were friendly.

Raymond stopped these late night walks during the last years of his life and moved to the Beaver County Geriatric Center where he died when he was 74-years-old. The real story of what Raymond experienced became obscured and overshadowed by the ghost stories that grew out of them and Raymond became more of an urban legend than a sentient being who was ostracised by the community purely due to his appearance.

anonymous asked:

To break up all the soundtrack asks, what are some cute domestic White Rose headcanons you have? Daily life and such.

Sometimes Weiss sings in the shower and Ruby sits close by and listens. Then when the shower turns off Ruby races out of the room to not be caught - but she always leaves rose petals in her wake. Weiss never tells her that she knows, she likes singing for Ruby.

When one of them can’t sleep, they’ll make their way into the kitchen for a late night snack. Usually, the other will wake up in bed alone and venture out to find them. That’s when they end up sitting on the kitchen floor at one in the morning eating cookies.

Weiss likes to wear Ruby’s shirts. Especially as Ruby gets a little taller than her, Weiss will just pick one and wear it to bed. They smell like Ruby and they’re usually very soft.

Ruby is slowly teaching Weiss how to cook. She wanted to reward her with kisses but that proved to be distracting because, as Weiss says, “you can’t reward me for grabbing the right stirrer”. Ruby disagrees.

Weiss and Ruby have discovered a mutual love of watching historical documentaries - they spend their nights watching them and talking about them. When one of them is out of town, they’ll video chat and try and watch them together that way. When they’re home together though, they’ll stay up really late watching them and usually end up a cuddled mess on the couch the next morning.

starbirdrampant  asked:

A Master and An Apprentice

He wasn’t quite sure which came first: sentience, or the knife. His memory circuits couldn’t make sense of how a cleaning droid gained self-awareness, nor of why someone had taped a kitchen knife to the top of him, right at ankle-level for the humanoids on base. But Stabby did know that the humanoids found it hilarious to watch other humanoids scramble out of the way of the knife or be taken by surprise, and somewhere deep within his circuits, Stabby found it hilarious too.

He was just doing his job one day, cleaning the floors (well, and deviating from his randomly-generated pattern to startle six humans, two Mon Calamari, and a Twi’lek) when he heard a chorus of binary coming from a nearby supply closet. Curious, Stabby peeked his visual sensor in and saw a circle of astromechs huddling around a blue and white R2 unit, hanging on its every beep and whistle. The R2 unit told story after story of adventure, fighting evil, and saving the galaxy. Stabby had not known if he was capable of the emotion that humanoids called “awe”, but listening to the R2 unit’s tales of heroics, he became sure.

After the night grew late and the other astromechs returned to their charging stations, Stabby wheeled up to the storyteller.

[Hello there] he ventured. [Your stories are wonderful.]

[Hello, and thanks!] the R2 unit replied.

[I was wondering] Stabby beeped hesitantly, [if you could teach me how to be a hero?]

The R2’s processor whirred as he considered the question. [Well, anyone can be a hero, by being brave at the right time. And you’ve even got a little weapon there. Sure, why don’t you come back here tomorrow, and I’ll teach you some tricks?]

[Thank you so much!] Stabby burbled with joy. [I’ll be here!]

So Stabby began his training with R2-D2, the droid that had been in the center of so much of the action in the galaxy. He learned about the weaknesses of organics, about when to ignore what humanoids and pessimists were saying, and most importantly, about honor, courage, and persistence. And all the while, he practiced with his knife. The more the humanoids got used to watching out for Stabby, the more stealthily he learned how to attack.

“I swear, it’s like that kriffing little thing’s sentient,” grumbled one officer. “It’s like it knows how to getcha when you least expect it.”

Stabby’s circuits lit up with delight, but he said nothing and pretended to almost bump into the wall on his way out.

Stabby loved training, loved being R2-D2’s apprentice, until one day, the enemies attacked the base. R2-D2 had to take his place in the battle, while Stabby tried to stay out of the way of the humanoids trying to escape.

Stabby’s circuits shook with fear. This was a real battle, not a funny prank. He was just a cleaning droid, and his master was nowhere to be found. He backed into an alcove and tried to stay out of sight as white-armored bad guys ran through the hall.

The door at the end of the hallway opened, and out of a cloud of smoke came something very dark and very tall. It walked on two legs and made a rhythmic noise. Stabby recognized Darth Vader from R2-D2’s stories.

As Darth Vader walked past him, Stabby remembered what his teacher had said: anyone can be a hero by being brave at the right time. Well, this was his chance.

Silently, he rolled out of the alcove, aimed for Darth Vader’s ankle, and accelerated at full power.

The knife hit something solid, and Stabby felt dazed. Vader did not fall down dead; he did not fall at all. He bent down and picked Stabby up.

Stabby froze in fear. Surely this was the end for him!

From inside the mask came a soft, raspy noise. In confusion, Stabby realized that Vader was laughing at him.

Vader turned to one of his troopers. “Take this back to my shuttle, and see that no one knows about it.”

The trooper took Stabby, eyeing him warily. “Yes, Lord Vader.” 

Well, this was certainly going to be an adventure. Maybe Stabby was following in his master’s footsteps after all.

The Times They Remembered Pidge Was a Girl

Summary: The stuff you have to deal with while being a girl doesn’t change just because you’re up in space. At least you have four guys, five lions, and two aliens on your side.

Chapter 1: Apparently Mother Nature Visits in Space 

(FF | | AO3

Pidge centric. Female pronouns for Pidge. Just an exploration of situations Pidge can find herself in. Family dynamics ftw. 


“You want what?” Hunk asked, staring at the youngest paladin with a quirked brow.

“You know, those smooth disk things you made that one time,” Pidge said, flattening her hands together in a circular motion. “We used it to teleport-”

“I know what you’re talking about,” Hunk said, putting his hands on his hips. “But I didn’t think you liked those cookies.”

Pidge shuffled her feet nervously, pushing up her glasses with a finger. “Uh, well I don’t exactly…” At Hunk’s crestfallen expression the green paladin quickly shook her head, laughing nervously. “I mean- but I really want them now!”

Hunk didn’t exactly believe her but he did catch her shoveling some of the green goop into her mouth late last night when he ventured into the kitchen for a midnight snack. He also remembered thinking whether or not it was actually midnight. Altean time measurements use 20 vargas in a day so technically it was ten at night?

Hunk rubbed his temple. Space math.

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plus one [M] // HOSEOK

summary - You were sick of relationships, but what if you met someone who was just as passionate as you, someone who you made you feel that what you were doing was right, someone that made you feel like yourself again?
word count - 6.6k

genre - dancers!au, fluff, smut
pairing - Hoseok x OC/Reader
warnings - explicit language, graphic sex (kinda)

A/N - okay, this is the longest thing i’ve ever written (except for my final German exam, because damn) and it might be long, it might be okay, idrk. i wasn’t sure if i even wanted to post this, the idea didn’t rlly appeal to me anymore, but somehow a truck of inspiration hit me this morning and i couldn’t stop writing it, so i hope you enjoy!!

Originally posted by gotjimin

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Mothman and the Merman

Klance Fanfiction

5900 Words

Completed Oneshot

a crack fic taken seriously 

Summary: Keith is mothman and Lance is a merman he met once a long time ago. They are reunited in college, but are unaware of each others alternate form. (pretty much pining!mothman!Keith and pining!merman!Lance)

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The Kitchen

pairing: fred weasley x reader

words: 1100 

warnings: fluff. it’s all fluff. 

summary: fred invites reader on a late-night date in the kitchen. 


 You were in your fifth year of Hogwarts, and it was arguably your best year yet. Why? 

   Fred Weasley. 

   You had become close with the Weasley twins in your third year. They were the coolest people in your house, and you were surprised when the three of you actually hit it off. You were invited to be an accomplice in almost all of their pranking sessions (How could you resist?) and ate most meals with them. However, this year you had began to grow closer to them. You had even been invited to their house over the summer (Molly Weasley adored you). And then there was the big thing. 

   You came to realize that one of the mischievous redheads—Fred Weasley—had stolen your heart. 

   You tried not to make a big deal out of it, as the chances of reciprocation were absolute zero. 

   Needless to say, it didn’t work. 

   You couldn’t be within ten feet of him without wanting to run your hands through his hair—from where it stuck up in the front to where it was cut in a straight, fluffy line at the nape of his neck. And why did his lips look so freaking kissable? 

   There came a point where you sometimes had to avoid him to refrain from running up to him and just kissing him silly. He apparently noticed this, as he approached you one day as you were studying in the Gryffindor common room, studying with your hair coiled up in something like a bun. You had just stuck two pencils in it and let it do whatever. However, when Fred came and sat down next to you, you felt suddenly self-conscious and touched your hair woefully. 

   "Hello there, (Y/N),“ he said in his usual carefree, self-confident way. 

   "H-hi, Fred.” You flushed and stuttered. Dammit.

   He just sat and grinned smugly at you before doing something that almost made you swoon—he reached over and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. Your heart beat a million times faster and all your brain could say to you was controlcontrolcontrolCONTROLYOURSELF(Y/N). And this whole time, Fred was just sitting there, flashing his dead sexy smile. You cleared your throat, embarrassed. 

   "So, uh, do you need something?“ you asked. 

   "Yes, actually. Are you doing anything tomorrow night?”

   "Besides stressing for Snape’s test, no,“ you told him. 

   "Good,” Fred said. “Because I have plans for tomorrow and I want you to come with me.”

   You blinked. “Um… Well… Okay? What are you planning?" 

   "Well, dear,” Fred replied. (DEAR?!) “I was planning on a late-night venture into the kitchen.”

   "I suspect you mean raid,“ you interrupted. 

   "Raid, venture, same thing,” he quipped, with a wave of his hand. “Anyway, I want you to come with me.”

   "Aren’t the house-elves there? And what about George?“

   "I can ensure that they won’t be. And keep it down or he’ll hear you. No, he’s not going. I want it to be just the two of us—you know, just some alone time. Hanging out and getting a snack or whatever.” He suddenly seemed quiet. 

   You tried not to let the word date cross your mind. 

   "It sounds amazing!“ you answered. 

   "Good. Meet me here tomorrow at eleven,” he said, his grin coming back. 

   You saluted. “Aye, sir.”

   ❇❇❇❇❇

   Fred was already there when you snuck out of bed and down the stairs. The moon was shining brightly, making his pale skin glow with the luster of a creamy pearl. You looked away, not wanting to be caught staring. “Hey,” you whispered, and he returned the sentiment. 

   "Let’s go,“ he added, linking your arm in his. 

   As you made your way down to the kitchen, you could feel your heart beating quickly and your cheeks heating up as if a gentle feather of warmth was brushing across them. And all the while there was the soft, glowing moonlight, bathing everything in a surreal light. Maybe this was all a dream. But the feel of Fred next to you was no illusion—he was warm and real. 

   The two of you made it to the kitchen and Fred held the door for you. As soon as you got inside, you saw that the moonlight was bright as ever. There was also a plate full of ripe fruit on a worktable—your favorite. "Oh my wand, Fred, did you do this yourself?” you exclaimed. 

   "Yes, ma'am,“ he said, grinning with pure pleasure at your expression of delight. 

   You raced over to the table and began popping strawberries into your mouth. They tasted wonderfully fresh, and you had already eaten five by the time Fred joined you. He looked at you, amusement dancing in his eyes. You suddenly grew self-conscious and looked down at your sock feet, embarrassed. 

   "You’ve got a little piece right there,” he said, motioning to the corner of your mouth. You swiped at it, your embarrassment growing. He shook his head. “Still there. Let me get it.”

   He reached over to you, and with a gentle, caressing movement, he removed the food from the corner of your mouth. His blue-green eyes met yours, the moonlight making them positively bewildering. His thumb reached up again and softly stroked your cheek. And then the space between you was rapidly decreasing and your breath came quickly and his eyes were still on yours and your lips met; the world broke into a cascade of fireworks.  

   His lips were warm and soft and neverending. They gave you a sense of security and contentment. You couldn’t help yourself—you sighed against his mouth, and he grinned in turn. He peppered kisses down your throat and across your jaw while you did the same to his hairline. After a million eternities of ecstasy, you both pulled apart, breathing hard, cheeks red. 

   "Fred,“ you whispered. 

   "Don’t stop,” he murmured huskily back.

Hey everyone! Mod-Rose here. It’s been a while, huh? Sorry about being gone.

To make up for it, let me give you some happy/fluffy Undertale Skelebros and Dadster headcanons- since last night I had a really cute dream involving them and I want to share some of the things that stuck.

So, here we go!

~Mod-Rose

Undertale Skelebros and Dadster HCs:

  • Even though he wasn’t around much pre-accident, Gaster was still a good dad. Whenever Asgore insisted Gaster take a vacation to keep him from working himself to dust, Gaster would take Sans and Papyrus on a vacation to Snowdin for a day or two.
  • When Gaster was in the void, Sans took Papyrus to their vacation home in Snowdin.
  • While Papyrus doesn’t like how lazy Sans can be, he still appreciates everything his brother does- be it eat his spaghetti, read bedtime stories, or help be on the lookout for humans.
  • Sans is very protective of his brother, and always has been. Papyrus is just as protective of Sans. While he might not show it, if anything upsets Sans he will do his best to make sure it never happens again.
  • Papyrus slowly started to remember Gaster, but only through dreams. They weren’t bad dreams, but something told him not to tell Sans about them.
  • When Gaster came back, Sans was unsure of how to react. He had tried to bring Gaster back countless times, and now that he is back… it was very hard to know what to do.
  • When Gaster came back, anyone who saw him began to remember. Seeing that, Sans dragged Gaster everywhere.
  • However, it took Sans a bit to trust Gaster enough to let him see Papyrus. He didn’t want Papyrus to be upset.
  • When Papyrus first met Gaster, Sans was a nervous wreck. Papyrus was unusually quiet for a few minutes. When he finally did speak, he simply said: “Welcome home… dad.”
  • Gaster is still part goop and turned into a puddle when Papyrus called him dad.

Now some random and more funny stuff:

  • Everyone who has ever shouted into a void of some sort- be it screaming at the night sky when in a quiet area in the country, or yelling at the ocean- Gaster heard it. This is how he learned about pop culture and memes.
  • When Gaster swears, he only does it in Hands. Sans remembers Hands, but Papyrus never fully does. He forgot how to even pronounce letters and words in Hands, so if Gaster swears too much Papyrus might ask what that word means.
  • If Sans hears Papyrus say a swear in Hands he will force Gaster to put soap in his mouth, and will start a swear jar.
  • There is no Family Game Night. They tried once, playing an older party video game like the original Mario Party. It took the combined efforts of Toriel, Grillby, Undyne, Alphys and Asgore to get the three to speak to each other again. Papyrus caved first, but it took a lot more work before Sans and Gaster would acknowledge each other. Then there was a shouting match. Then a few days of Sans in his room in silence, only venturing out late at night to grab some food.
  • Papyrus was able to get them both to stop the fighting. For a skeleton, he has really good puppy-dog-eyes.
  • They never played competitive games again.

anonymous asked:

Mandy, do you have any headcanons for 2009 skype calls?

bravery

Finding strength through a pixelated connection, finding words they didn’t know they had within them. New and nervous and reaching out with the only tools they had. 

Phil would have been aware of how easily connections forged this way could dissipate; he’d have been there, time and again, already. Feeling like someone knows you better than yourself and in less than half a year feeling like they don’t know you at all. He might have been warier at first; not withdrawn, but segmented within himself: allowing himself to enjoy the friendship for what it was, but scared to feel more deeply. 

Dan would have had no filter. He would have had no idea what he was doing, but been determined to do it all the same. He wanted this, he chased this. At a point in his life where he wasn’t certain about much else and everything probably felt so transitory (broken up with his girlfriend, putting uni off for a while, losing his job) he made the decision to make Phil the thing he made tangible, the thing he tried at and kept at until he had what he wanted. 

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for you. | jackson [pt.2]

part one
masterlist

words: 1.1k
summary: you decide that breaking up with jackson would be the best thing for the both of you

a/n: i know this update took forever but i was really stuck and i wanted the second part to my first ever imagine on this blog to be good so i did try, please let me know if you like it / want another part - a happy ending???


when you woke up the next morning, your brain allowed you exactly thirty seconds of blissful forgetfulness before the events of the night before rushed back into your head.

sitting up to look on the other side of the bed, you were disappointed, but not surprised to find it empty, only a jackson-shaped indent where your boyfriend had lain.

to confirm your suspicions, you glanced over the bed onto the ground where jackson’s suitcase had been the previous night. once again, only an indent in the carpet where it should have been.

five days passed without any form of contact between either of you and you didn’t have a clue as to when he would be coming back..

..until you came across pictures of him arriving at incheon airport one night. glancing at the date stamped on the corner of the picture by a fan, your mouth ran dry as you realised jackson had returned two days prior and just hadn’t come home.

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medium.com
4chan: The Skeleton Key to the Rise of Trump
Trump’s younger supporters know he’s an incompetent joke; in fact, that’s why they support him.
By Dale Beran

This article is the absolute gold standard of tracking the evolution of a certain segment of online geek culture as it went from lonely snickering failures to unabashed self-aware Trump supporters.

I cannot praise this work highly enough, or excerpt it shortly enough to accurately encompass its scope and clarity and illumination into what I thought I already knew. I have never seen any examination of the borne-out consequences of 4chan “culture” that was as thoroughly wrought as this. It is brilliant.

It must be read in full to be understood, and it is a long read.

Still, to give you an idea, here are some choice paragraphs to provide an incomplete skeleton of the fully-fleshed work:

And thus the campaign proceeded like the video game it wasn’t. Menus of “target lists” were drawn up, their enemies (mostly women they wanted to harrass) labelled “warriors”. 4chan users pretended a furious amount of mouse clicking and virtual action would somehow translate into a concrete reward appearing in their computer screens, like it does, say, in World of Warcraft.

All that work cracking Skype accounts with wordlists did not yield the tangible reward of evidence of a cabal. The real world behaves differently than a video game. There were shades of grey. It disappointed. What you did and what you got for your efforts were muddled. It was more challenging than the safe spaces of a video game, carefully crafted to accommodate gamers and make them feel — well, the exact opposite of how they felt interacting in the real world — effective. In the fantasy world of the game, actions achieved ends.

It was almost as if all these disaffected young men were waiting for a figure to come along who, having achieved nothing in his life, pretended as though he had achieved everything, who by using the tools of fantasy, could transmute their loserdom (in 4chan parlance, their “fail”), into “win”.

[…]

To younger generations who never had such jobs, who had only the mythology of such jobs (rather a whimsical snapshot of the 1950s frozen in time by America’s ideology) this part of the narrative is clear. America, and perhaps existence itself is a cascade of empty promises and advertisements — that is to say, fantasy worlds, expectations that will never be realized “IRL”, but perhaps consumed briefly in small snatches of commodified pleasure.

Thus these Trump supporters hold a different sort of ideology, not one of “when will my horse come in”, but a trolling self-effacing, “I know my horse will never come in”. That is to say, younger Trump supporters know they are handing their money to someone who will never place their bets — only his own — because, after all, it’s plain as day there was never any other option.

[…]

Trump’s ventures of course, represent this fantasy: this hope that the working man, against the odds dictated by his knowledge, experience, or hard work will one day strike it rich — Trump University, late night real estate schemes, the casinos. Trump himself, who inherited his wealth, represents the classic lucky sap.

But Trump also equally represents the knowledge that all of that is a lie, a scam that’s much older than you are, a fantasy that we can dwell in though it will never become true, like a video game.

Trump, in other words, is a way of owning and celebrating being taken advantage of.

Trump embodies buying the losing bet that will never be placed.

He is both despair and cruel arrogant dismissal, the fantasy of winning and the pain of losing mingled into one potion.

For this reason, the left should stop expecting Trump’s supporters to be upset when he doesn’t fulfill his promises.

Support for Trump is an acknowledgement that the promise is empty.

He is both the “promise” (the labyrinth”, the “alpha”) and the empty center (“the promise betrayed”, the “beta”), in a sublime, hilarious combination that perfectly reflects the worldview of his supporters.

In other words, we can append a third category to the two classically understood division of Trump supporters:

1) Generally older people who naively believe Trump will “make America great again”, that is to say, return it to its 1950s ideal evoked by both Trump and Clinton.

2) The 1 percent, who know this promise is empty, but also know it will be beneficial to short term business interests.

3) Younger members of the 99 percent, like Anon, who also know this promise is empty, but who support Trump as a defiant expression of despair.

And after that, the tone turns there-but-for-the-grace-of-god personal before providing further examination of how the left and its stance on gender fails to help that third pillar.

Excerpting more would only lengthen this post. Suffice to say, the last fifth of the article takes what is already priceless and shines it to a mirror finish. I want to keep it under glass on a velvet cushion.

Oh, and it turns out the author has a Tumblr, too. @daleberan. Go read his work. Read it and learn more about your world.

2

When Klaus wanted something, he most usually always got it. In this case, he took a particular interest in you. For what reason? You hadn’t figured it out yet. But Klaus slowly but surely started to grow on you. However what was completely unexpected was having two Mikaelson brothers fighting for your affection.

Never did you imagine that Kol Mikaelson would so boldly announce, without fear or hesitation that he too fancied you. That’s what you found out one late night at the compound when Klaus assisted you stay over.

Walking through the complex, it was about 11pm. You couldn’t sleep and wanted to venture around the house to see what else it had to offer. Tightening the robe, which was left by Klaus around your frame, you continued down a flight of stairs just in time to run into Kol.

Kol caught you before there was any chance of a fall, steadying your blance in the process. “I’m so sorry Kol, I didn’t mean to literally run into you”. Going slightly red in the cheeks.

All he did was smirk, “You can ran into me anytime you want darling. Although I am surprised to see you roaming around the compound, instead of being safety nested in Niklaus arms”.

A second wave of turning red occurred, shifting from left foot to right. You weren’t so used to people being so directed. And Kol certainly didn’t shy away from being forward, after all it was in his nature.

“I couldn’t sleep, plus I wanted to see what else the Mikaeslon compound had to offer“. You told the tall brunette vampire, who’s stare was glued to you.

Kol rested his left hand on the stair railing, effectively blocking you in. “My room is always open for inspection, don’t hesitate to come and visit love. I’ll be more than happy to show you a night you wouldn’t forget”.

“I’m not too sure Klaus would approve of that”, muttering to him while stepping around him. He quickly stood in front of you once more.

His eyes turned a darker shade, you couldn’t tell which emotions were swirling but there was definitely a mixture of lust and a small hint of angry. “Ah yes, Niklaus and his rules. According to my brother, you’re off limits. Please don’t test me”.

Frowning at his last statement, “Are you threatening me?”. You asked quite stunned.

He stepped forward, the feeling of his breath hitting your skin causing goosebumps. “No, darling. I’m actually quite offended you jumped straight to that accusation. Niklaus might have warned us that you’re only his, but I don’t give a damn what my brother says…not when it comes to you anyway”.

Still confused, Kol was being very vague. He sensed the confusion and smiled, pushing a piece of hair away from your face. “I’m saying I fancy you Y/N, quite intrigued by you actually. And I do plan to fight for your heart”. His finger traced over your lips, causing your heart to skip one massive beat. Kol leaned in so close, lips merely inches apart. “May the best brother win”, he gently whispered before leaving you in the empty hallway.

Bringing a finger to your lips, the tingling sensation was still there….lingering. Oh, what a dangerous situation this was going to turn out to be. Brother against brother fighting for one women, that story never ended well.

Masterlist

shadowjack12345  asked:

“you come to my room at 4am, to cuddle?” But Raven is the visitor.

Anything for senpai~

Originally posted by windwaver

One would think that entering a relationship of a romantic nature with Raven would come with a few alterations. For example, perhaps becoming more privy to an intimate side of the empath that she would rarely, if ever, display to any other individual. Or maybe, some subtle affection, terms of endearment, a discreet touching of hands, fingers entwining under the table. Hopefully, a chaste kiss or two, or, if Garfield could be so lucky, something more…

At the end of the day, all Beast Boy wanted was any opportunity to get to know his girlfriend better, physically, or otherwise. He wanted to spend time with her, as much as possible. He wanted to talk to her, to listen, to go on adventures and share various experiences with her right beside him. All the cliché things that happened in the movies, or the sappy love stories that filled the romance section in the bookstore; he wanted to build those memories with her, regardless of how cheesy or lame they normally seemed.

Suddenly, every romantic notion had an appeal, like a pink, hazy border clouding his vision and his mind, whenever he thought about Raven. He often pondered what they’d be like with her. Something as ludicrous as a trip to the mall, or a date at a bar, maybe a lazy trip to the beach, just the two of them. Long walks in the park in the summer time, where her feet would get sore, so he’d carry her shoes while she walked in the grass barefoot. Perhaps they’d venture out late at night, so that way, it would be just the two of them, and she’d loosen up a bit without the social stresses she faced every day among the crowds.

Unfortunately, it was often that Beast Boy felt like he was riding the train of love all alone, as Raven remained rather indifferent to him even though they were dating.  

Although most of the romantic excursions did occur, it was about the only change Raven implemented once their relationship had taken on a new meaning. She’d never turn him down whenever he’d request they hang out, and he did manage to get her to open up to him bit by bit the more time that passed, however, much to Beast Boy’s great disappointment, Raven took no other initiatives.

At first, it hardly seemed a big deal; he figured she’d come around sooner than later, and he’d rather not force anything that she might not be ready for. After all, she had been the one who had pursued him back when all this had started. So, when they’d gone on their first, second, third date, and he had really, really wanted to hold her hand, he’d clench his jaw instead, and tell himself that if she wanted to make contact, she would do so of her own volition. His hand was always very evidently right there, perfectly ready to be held if she so desired. He’d even purposely brush his arm against hers, or make sure their shoulders touched, as a hint.

Either Raven was entirely dense, a very unlikely reason, or she simply refused to touch him. Of the two, the latter hurt far more, and it was only a matter of time before Beast Boy was burdened with insecurities in what was supposed to be his new, thrilling relationship.

Eventually, he stopped trying altogether, and it embittered him.

He wanted to tell her, knew he should have voiced his concerns, but he remained fearful of overstepping a boundary, as he had often done with her in the past. The last thing he wanted was to take two steps back for every step forward he’d taken in their new, blooming romance.

So, instead, he procrastinated, choosing to wallow in his own miserable thoughts, and self-imposed exile.

Until the one night that an emboldened Raven had decided to show up on his doorstep, unannounced.

[More under the cut, because this got too long]

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