the signs as feelings in lyrics

Aries: Last Dinosaurs - Andy

Meet me on the surface of Jupiter
We don’t need a reason we’ll just make it up
Bring a pen and paper and some time to think
document our voyage till you’re out of ink

Taurus: Milk and Bone - Coconut Water

Let’s get started truth or dare
A million flowers in my hair
I’m cool with that
I’ve got the beach to worry about

Gemini: Childish Gambino - Telegraph Ave/Sober (Daniela Andrade cover)

Everything, that I wanted
Only gotta drive for the moment
If you tell me “turn around,” then I’m on it
For the moment, but you know me
You know how I get when I’m lonely
And I think about you and the moments

Cancer: Death Cab For Cutie - Everything’s A Ceiling

And the constellations move and the brightest point is full,
But every telescope you see, was pointed only at you.

And I’ve got nowhere to go except further below,
So I keep digging.
And it gets darker everyday,
But I see no other way than just committing.

Leo: Banks - Goddess

Finally surfaced above the downs
Feeling her boldest, she came around
Cause she’s a goddess, finally saw this
And now you’re back, trying to claim her
Cause she’s gone and now without her
You’re all alone, cause she’s a goddess
You should’ve saw this

Virgo: Bright Eyes - A Spindle, A Darkness, A Fever And A Necklace

I touch the clasp of your locket, with its picture held,
Some secret you wouldn’t tell but let it choke your neck.
So we imagine a darkness where all shapes divide,
Solids changing into light, with a burst of heat so bright.
Well fine, don’t you do what I want you to.
Yeah, don’t degrade yourself the way that I do

Libra: Zella Day - 1965

I never had nobody touch me like I’m glass
You had me spinnin’ in the midnight summer grass
I never had nobody touch me like I’m glass
With a moonburnt kiss

Scorpio: Halsey - Young God

He says “Oh, baby girl, don’t get cut on my edges
I’m the king of everything and oh, my tongue is a weapon
There’s a light in the crack that’s separating your thighs
And if you wanna go to heaven you should fuck me tonight”

Sagittarius: Bombay Bicycle Club - Luna

(Not sun, gold, soft and rain)
You burn through my mind, again and again, again, again
And again and again

There’s a lot of words to call out
Just waiting for the perfect hideout
Down when the walls start shaking
I’m ready for you to find out

Capricorn: CHVRCHES - Down Side Of Me

Keep you away from the down side of me
You can keep me a drip of the light that you see
I believe that you’re all that you said you would be
If I keep you away from the down side of me

Aquarius: Futures - Karma Satellite

We sleep all night and couldn’t speak,

We split the world in two.

There’s fires burning in the streets,

But now I see the truth.

When you close your eyes will you dream tonight?

And become a satellite

Pisces: Noah And The Whale - Second Lover

Oh, and when will our heartbeats fall into line,
And the click-clack of our boot heels beat out the same time?
Oh, and when will your hand find itself in mine?

And though I don’t know your real name
Your real age, or your shoe size
I will leave this bedroom chair
And this keyboard behind

And I will love you in reality and dreams

my interview went well??? i think??? there were two of them for some reason and they only talked to me for about ten minutes and were literally reading these inane interview questions word-for-word off a sheet of paper and then jotting down notes while i was talking. they asked 4 questions, including “describe a situation where you worked in a group in the workplace” and “describe a situation where you were great with customer service” and then i asked a few questions that they kinda stumbled through a little and then it was over and it was kind of a very surreal experience lmfao

they said they’d let me know tomorrow if i’ve got it so lmao

     ( )   hercwn.

     promptly did the man situate himself, mere moments ago no more than a blur & now sat on the edge of a desk —————- legs only so casually crossed. a hand laying upon the tabletop as opposite grabbed a paper ; a brow arched with gaze focused on words sprawled across the page. the two only occupying silence as it stood for so long, interrupted by a voice as if laced with poison ( eyes never daring to look up & on her ).

                            so i’m only
guessing that you ——– are iris west-allen.
                             the woman who —- wrote all of the flash articles. RIGHT ?

Erstwhile (SinSlinger) (Volume 1): T C Hess: 9781523229925: Amazon.com: Books
Erstwhile (SinSlinger) (Volume 1) [T C Hess] on Amazon.com. Corrupted with a disease that feeds on his cruelty and arrogance, Dill Dervish understands the nature of evil all too well. His past as a Preacher within the mystical Order has left him jaded towards a life he once loved. When forces once again begin to mount against him

So I just realized I haven’t posted the link for my amazon in a while. Erstwhile is available in paperback if you are like me and like paper over ebook (it’s the touch of fresh book, lets face it). It is a very pretty book with over 400 pages of western fantasy if that is your thing.

it is possible that I am alone in an empty universe, speaking to no one, unaware that the world is held aloft merely by my delusions and my smooth, sonorous voice.”

(a mix for who Cecil was pre-year one)

I Wanna Get Better - Bleachers • Last Night I Dreamt… - The Wombats • Some Nights - fun. • The Violent Blue - Electric President • Gutter - Paper Route • Voice of Our Age - Radical Face • Mouthful of Diamonds - Phantogram • Shots - Imagine Dragons • Forest - Twenty-One Pilots • Lullaby - Electric President • Hindsight - Boychild • March To The Sea - Twenty-One Pilots • [[listen]]

Funstory of the morning:

So I have Bellamy Blake as my desktop wallpaper at work. I had this costumer this morning and she was constantly staring at my computer screen while we were talking. Then all of a sudden she looked at me with teary eyes and said “BUT BELLAMY BLAKE IS IN LOVE WITH CLARKE GRIFFIN!”  Our faces fell and we both had a meltdown about Bellarke and cried how beautiful it is and about Bellamy being so pretty and perfect. I think we talked about 20 mins. And then we finished her papers. Before she left she turned around and said “Always believe in Bellarke, ok?. Its gonna happen I promise, don’t let other things that are coming get you down!” ok maybe she knows more than me?! lol This totally made my morning and it warmed my heart to see that others love Bellarke and Bellamy as much as I do. I thought I’d share this with you maybe it makes you smile too ;)

// submitted by anonymous!! //

“after that giraffe pic now all I can think of is zookeeper!Luke lol” ok this a luke au i fucks with heavily

he’s not actually a zookeeper (as of now he couldnt be arsed to get a degree in biology) but more like an assistant maybe? idk i know fuck all about zookeeping but ok bear with me

cus it’s literally the most unconventional thing; his mom actually got the job for him by asking some distant uncle who works there if her son can work with him (cus doing covers at the pub is cool and all but he’s still broke and liz refuses to have his mopey ass lying on the couch all day) and at first luke is just like “wtf ew” cus animal poop and “wtf ugh” cus assloads of paper work but then his uncle lets him go and meet some of the animals and………this job is not so bad after alll……..

3 months later and (besides the animal poop) luke actually LOVES it. It’s like a stress relief, an escape from reality when his insecurities start to build up and become too much to handle. The distant uncle tells Liz about how her son has kinda become as mini sensation as “the really cute zookeeper assistant guy” and seems to have a talent with kids; preschoolers on a field trip will see him cleaning and sprint over to excitedly ask if he’s “part giraffe”

“HAHA no i’m not part giraffe”

“But you’re like, a BILLION feet tall”

“I’m actually a million and three quarters……..”

and idk how to articulate the rest of this but the image of luke humming to himself while setting up a display with a small monkey on his shoulder!!!!! her name is bailey and luke talks to her all casual like “you know, me and you, we really see eye to eye. A lot of people don’t understand us but i feel like, it doesn’t matter cus we understand each othe-”

“luke who tf are you talking to?”

*flustered stuttering* *nervous laughter* “haha no one haha, just me and bails hanging out haha lol”

anonymous asked:

I love your blog! I just wanted to ask if you knew Paul Bernardo's prison address. I was also wondering if you could help me by telling me how to go about sending it. I'm wanting to write a paper on him and I would really appreciate it!

Paul Bernardo
Millhaven Institution
Highway 33
PO Box 280
Bath, Ontario
K0H 1G0

You just send it like you would any other letter, unless you want help with how to send a letter in general? If so, let me know! Oh, and thank you!!

Let Her Go

A/N: I haven’t written fiction in about a year, thanks to analytical research papers and critical reflections demanded by graduate school professors. But, I drew up this little number yesterday and thought that it would be in good hands if I sent it your way. I hope you and everyone else who reads it enjoys it. Please let me know 😊 If you are unable to post it, that’s okay 😊 I just wanted you to know that you’ve inspired me to get into my creative writing again, so consider this my gift to you! It’s a bit of angst, but if you or anyone else would like a continuation, I could certainly try. Hope everything is going well for you! Much love! 💕 –Colette

(And for the Morgan lovers of the group, here is a wonderful story by the wonderful @beingcolette.  So hop on over and give her some love if you enjoy the story, because here it is, comin’ ‘atcha!)

‘Baby girl?’

Aaliyah stares at the white words, floating within the blue bubble of the iMessage that demanded her attention. The number is just that, a number, with no other contact information because she’d deleted that particular information years before. Approximately two years ago. Not that she was counting or anything, but it was a pretty bad ending to a good beginning. That’s not necessarily something someone forgets easily.

Her heart clenches, causing those damn butterflies to flutter through her stomach that she hasn’t experienced since their downfall, but she simply sighs and ignores the text message. All the while wandering what could’ve possibly prompted her ex-boyfriend to contact her after nearly three years of no communication.

“Davenport?” A strong voice registers through her ears as she tucks the cellphone back into her purse, switching the device to silent mode. Aaliyah snaps her gaze towards the voice and smiles prominently, nodding her head in confirmation as she stands and approaches the man.

She extends a hand and gives a firm handshake while introducing herself properly.

“Yes, sir, I’m Aaliyah Davenport. You must be SSA Aaron Hotchner.”

Aaron nods, relishing in her exuberant behavior and kind smile after the month of cases he and his team have endured.

“Yes, I am. But, please, call me Hotch.” Aaliyah blushes and nods, following the federal agent into the bullpen, where a few members of his team currently reside, awaiting his return.

“Everyone, this is Dr. Aaliyah Davenport. She is now an official behavior analyst with the FBI, I hope you all welcome her warmly.”

“Well, of course, Hotch! Jesus, we’re not animals, and look at this wonderful sweetheart!” A woman, dressed head to toe in expertly coordinated yellow, green, and orange, quickly envelopes Aaliyah in a tight hug and Aaliyah giggles lightly, taking note of her abundantly friendly personality.

She’s going to be my favorite.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I’m Penelope Garcia, the tech guru. I stay here at headquarters in my lair behind an amazing display of federal-equipped technology to help my love bugs catch criminals. And I brief them on their cases.” She goes on to introduce the rest of the gang: an older gentleman who goes by Rossi, whom also takes Aaliyah’s hand gently within his own and presses a light kiss to it—effectively earning a blush; a blonde with beautiful blue eyes known as Jayje; a tall, somewhat lanky lad with shoulder length sandy brown hair and inquisitive hazel eyes named Reid; and a black-haired woman with dark brown eyes known as Prentiss.

“Well, it truly an honor to meet everyone. I hope to get to know you all outside of the hustle and bustle of the federal government,” Aaliyah smiles, earning nods and word of praise.

“Oh! Is someone missing? I was told that there were seven agents on the BAU team.”

“Oh, Derek, he's—”

“Late, I know. I’m sorry, guys! I didn’t hear my alarm clock this morning.”

Hotch frowns lightly, but brushes off the tardiness with a shrug. Aaliyah, on the other hand, is promptly frozen to her spot, thanks to instantly recognizing the voice of the late agent. But, being around a multitude of profilers brings her guard forward and she immediately relaxes before turning around to face the man she already knows both on and off the field.

The man who ultimately broke her heart.

“Hello, Agent Morgan.”

Derek blinks, taking in Aaliyah’s appearance for the first time in two years. Her black curls are still wildly tamed and those pouty lips are still pillow soft. Her emerald eyes haven’t lost their sparkle nor the fire that burns behind them and her scent…Jesus, that sweet coconut and vanilla scent still manages to stir his deepest desires. But, seeing her in front of him at arm’s length tugs at his heartstrings. The sound of her voice nearly brings him to his knees and he wanders if she received his text message. Unlike before, her read receipts were not enabled.

“Aaliyah…what? Um, it’s good to see you.”

Everyone ruffles at their exchange, listening intently as their semi-awkward conversation continues.

“It's…good to see you, too. I hope you’ve been well.”

Derek nods, noting her slight uncomfortableness as he rubs the back of his neck. “Um, yeah, I’ve been alright. How are you?”

“I’m good.”

“Good. Did you get—”

“Yes, I did.”

Derek nods again, allowing the conversation to unnaturally tail off, to which Aaliyah simply offers a kind smile—he always loved that smile—and shifts her purse on her shoulder.

“Well,” Aaliyah addresses the group as a whole, “I enjoyed meeting all of you, but I believe there is a rather spacious office and workspace awaiting my arrival. So, I’m going to head upstairs and get settled in, but I hope to see you all around sometime.” The team nods and smiles, except Derek, who simply frowns lightly and watches as Aaliyah departs from the bullpen.

Once the petite woman is out of range, Derek sighs heavily, earning the attention of the team.

“Derek, are you okay?” Jayje questions softly, noting the struggle and conflict in his eyes. Derek looks at his colleague and offers a sad smile.

“Remember when you asked me if I ever had anyone who got away? Anyone who helped guide the decisions in my personal life?” Jayje nods.

“Well,” Derek shrugs to his team as he gazes towards the direction in which Aaliyah departed, “Aaliyah Jade Davenport…is the reason why I can’t settle down with anyone.”

“Why is that?” Spencer inquires, taking a sip of his coffee.

Derek blinks, fighting off the tightening in his chest that results in Spencer’s question. He knows the genius doesn’t mean any harm, but still, his question burned him.

“She’s the one who got away.”

Rossi frowns, “Care to elaborate?”

Derek chuckles humorlessly, blinking back unexpected tears.

“I let her go.”

Dear Me

You need to get out
Time is about to swallow you up
You need to be safe

We both know the rules
No guns
No paper clips
Don’t listen to the wrong music
Stay away from lighters
And gasoline

Watch out for those back stabbing bitches
Don’t let them be your best friends

You gotta create
Write poems
Write songs
Throw paint at a canvas
I don’t care
Just make sure you are making something

No matter where you are
You can still be an artist

If your dreams die so do you
Don’t you dare let those go

Every time you feel even a hint of passion
Write it down
Some days you’re not going to know
What you are made for
So when you do record it

You gotta remember
You start dying the day you forget

Don’t drink too much caffeine
It keeps you up
Messing up the sheets
Beating the pillows

Don’t make things harder on yourself

You need to get out
I don’t know where you’ll go
But you gotta get out

Everything ends
Don’t worry about the timing

Don’t focus on tomorrow too much
I swear
Focusing on the future can ruin you

You have a world of terrifying chances
Don’t take all of them

Don’t let the kitchen knives be too sharp

You gotta be safe
You gotta fight for yourself

You’re not one of those people who can just live
You can’t go with flow
You can’t stay in the same town all your life

Don’t worry about making a mess
You are one
And the art imitates the artist
But someone still finds it beautiful

Dear me
Life’s about to come knocking
Time is going to swallow you up

But you know you
You make the rules


dattumblergiiirl asked:

Hello!! Whats this thing ur doing for Phil? His birthday?? Please tell me about it bc im confoosed

Basically you just write a post to phil and submit it to us or you write it on a piece of paper and take a picture of it (with or without your face)! Then we will compile them all into a video that we are making for our son c: i feel like this is a bad description but if you have anymore questions, let us know!


I want to memorize the curves of your shoulders and the angles your collar bones make. I want to be able to see your smile lines when my eyes are closed and it’s pitch dark at night.
Tell me how you like your coffee. I will never forget how to get it right.
Let me into the dusty corners of your mind and I will find all the beauty that you’ve held locked inside.
Tell me what you hate most about yourself and I will prove to you that you are the product of perfection.
If you give me a few moments and a chance to get to know you, you will undoubtedly become the metaphor that I compare to beauty that cannot be captured, beauty that cannot be expressed with simplicity.
I will not stop writing about how you give light to the dimmest moments.
I will not tire letting my mind spill the beauty I see within you onto ink stained paper pages.
—  k.j.h. “My metaphor.” (33/365)

spideyjock asked:

A big fan of your TFL stories, man! Especially inanimate/objectification ones! I'm British fitness writer. 6ft, athletic and I wonder what the program would have in store for me...

My stories? Oh, your talking about our featured success stories! Sorry, I’m still fairly new to the job. The last guy indulged in the merchandise so now he’s on a lower rung of customer service. You might actually see him in our bear den if you want the right program. Actually, what do you want?

Oh, you filled out a form. Thank you! I’ll go ahead and take that. Let me see. You’re a fairly big guy, though I didn’t need a paper to know that. You’re a local. That’s good. We have the most trouble if you don’t use your nation’s branch. You’re also a fitness writer. It’s quite something that you complimented our stories then. Thank you!

You know, I think I actually have just the thing for you…

This is what we call the men’s room. No, it’s okay. You don’t need a mask like me. Ah, and these are the men. Fella’s this is the fitness writer you were paged about. Don’t mind the staring. They haven’t been thinking much this week since they’ve been trying our latest product. It makes them less fun to talk to but a hell of a lot more photogenic.

You see, the Foundation found some time ago that rats and overzealous scientists are all well good for some testing. We were losing scientists left and right though, and we all agreed male rats should never be that sexy. Instead we got these fellas. They can test over long periods of time, leave scientists to do science, and spare rats a six pack.

Being a fitness writer, I’m sure you can appreciate the value of testing a life product before using it, especially when it comes to the human body. That’s why I thought you would be perfect here. You could get the inside scoop on our upcoming products, and we’d get promotion through you. It’s a win-win situation.

The only question is how to get you to be with them all the time to constantly see the effects of the product, a question I have already answered. You may have been noticing your body going numb as I’ve been talking. Don’t worry about that. Just keep relaxing as you’ve been doing. There you go. Down… down… down…

Hey down there! Now, don’t worry too much about how you’re still able to hear me. Just listen. One of our guys over here is going to put you on shortly. I hope this is okay with you as you did kind of fill out the form. Don’t think of this so much as a set-back as it is an inside scoop. You’ve probably wrote about sports clothes once or twice. Now you get to spend some time as some.

In the mean time you get to admire the men’s hot package right in your… pouch. I’ll fix you up again in about a week so you can write your story, and then you can come back to us again. Next time I think we might go for more of a G-string though.

i have a transgender male coworker who uses the women’s locker rooms because HR won’t let him use the men’s locker room until he gets his papers changed to say so (which is shitty but it doesn’t really bother him that much i guess)? but like most of our coworkers who have been there a long time know that he’s trans (he started testosterone like a year ago, he’s been there for five) and he’s out but because he’s passing no one ever asks him about it so he usually doesn’t talk about it and today he said hi to me in the locker room and i just said hi back and one of our other female coworkers was in there and when she saw him say hi to me she screamed because there was a man in there and all he said was “shut the fuck up you talk too much i don’t have time for this” and i was like “amy… nick is trans please don’t scream, they won’t let him in the men’s locker room” and she ran up to him and like apologized profusely anyway he was like “thanks bao for telling her because i don’t have time for this shit from anyone!!!!!” and now he calls me his security guard l o l

SebaCiel; A huge ass paper on it.

We, in the Kuroshitsuji fandom, have quite a lot of familiarity with SebaCiel. You’ll know what I’m talking about. Let me say one thing;

This probably the most liked and most hated ship in the fandom.

For various reasons, obviously. One of the biggest arguments is that it’s pedophilia. Which, can be disproved from various means of media, but here’s some I’ll go into detail with in a second.

1) It’s 1877 in the show.

2) Japanese age laws and shit (where Yana is from).

3) It’s fucking fiction. Calm down.

Now, onto the next topic. Ciel is engaged to Elizabeth. Well…it’s canon Elizabeth’s feelings are unrequited and Ciel sees her more as a friend and a cousin than anything.

Onto the pedophilia thing. At the point in the show, Ciel is 13 years of age. In 1880, England & Wales’s age of consent laws were exactly that age. So, they were probably the same 3 years earlier. Everyone says shows/books/novels should rely on the actual history correct? If so, Ciel and Sebastian would probably be in a relationship.

Another popular argument was in the victorian era, most people were homophobes. However, homosexuality dates back farther than ancient Greece. So, because homophobia was a common thing back then, means there were absolutely no homosexual men/women? You’re logic is pretty shitty there, darling. I can name at least 3 homosexuals with the title Ciel had in that time era who only revealed their sexuality on their death beds. They suffered no consequences.

“Season 2 proves that it was just hunger!”
Season 2 is considered uncanon by the Kuroshitsuji developers, Yana herself, and many others. It barely fallows the manga at all and has no relation to anything. They just went off the board…a lot. :T

So, in a way, Season 2 isn’t canon.

“Fiction effects reality!”

There has been no substantial evidence for this. In fact, most brain scans have leaned towards the side that the brain can tell a difference from fiction and reality.

This will be continued in a part 2.

Snow Day pt. 2

Continuation of Snow Day. More shenanigans

Tags: @kbrand0 @emissary-from-hale @iwantthedean

Warnings: Smut 😏

Authors note: I chose the hard paper to be for Constitutional Law, as it was a super hard class and paper I had last semester for my Political Science degree. The case I talk about is a real case, the one I argued (and won) in class. I got 100 on my paper, so I know what I’m talking about (sorry if that sounds conceited). It isn’t a graduate class but it was the only thing I could use to convey the stress related to it, so bear with me. Let me know if you have questions about anything I mention!

While the three of you ate dinner, you were researching for your bigger paper. You were almost done finding the necessary sources, and if you finished now you could start writing later. Luckily this was the only paper you needed to worry about; the other two were easy four page papers for you easiest classes with professors you’d had since freshman year of undergrad. They could be done in an hour each, so you weren’t worried. This paper, however, this paper you were worried about. This was for Constitutional Law, and you had a huge fifteen page paper due in three weeks. You had to have twenty sources, and finding the last few was proving difficult. You had talked to your case partner to see if he had anything useful, but still you were short two non-case sources.

“(Y/N)? Did you hear what I said?” Your head snapped up at the sound of Sam’s voice, eyes wide.

“No, I’m sorry, I was super in the zone. What’s up?”

“I was just asking what class you were researching so intently for,” Sam said, looking genuinely interested. You chuckled.

“I’m not entirely sure you want to know. It’s really complicated and confusing and I’m not even sure I’m doing it right.” You sighed, resting your chin in your hand. Dean smiled at you.

“Come on, sweetheart, I think we can handle it.”

“Alright. Okay so it’s for my Constitutional law class. I have a partner and we got to choose a case to write on and we got Printz v US and I’m arguing the side of Printz, which is the side that won. I have to find ten case sources and ten non-case sources to prove that the ruling should be upheld but I’m struggling to find the last two non-case sources.” You looked up to find them looking at you, faces blank. Your face got hot and you started to gather your things to go work in your room. “I told you you wouldn’t understand,” you said. Sam shook his head.

“(Y/N), wait. I can help. I did go to Stanford, even if it wasn’t for four years,” he said. “Let me help.” You smiled at his gesture, but declined.

“I appreciate it Sammy, I really do, but I can’t have help with the research. I may have you read over it though, since you understand legalese more than Dean does.” Sam grinned at you.

“I could do that,” he said. Dean tilted his head at you.

“What’s the case about?” You blew out breath and sat back in your chair.

“You sure you wanna go there?” They both nodded so you leaned forward again. “Okay, so when John Hinckley Jr tried to assassinate Reagan, he paralyzed Reagan’s press secretary Jim Brady. Come to find out, the gun Hinckley used had been bought illegally, so the Brady Bill was drafted. Long story short, the Bill wanted to ensure people trying to purchase a handgun had a proper background check conducted on them, in order to prevent felons or other disqualified persons from purchasing a handgun. One of the provisions required that state chief law enforcement officers conduct these background checks in the two year interim before the federal background check system was in place. Two sheriffs from the states of Montana and Arizona sued the federal government, claiming that requiring state officers to do these checks was unconstitutional because they weren’t being compensated for their time, and that the federal government couldn’t force the states into doing something without an incentive or compensation. They won. I have to find more reasons to prove why it should be upheld.” Sam was nodding along with you, but Dean looked lost.

“So what are you trying to do, exactly?” He asked.

“I have to find cases and other sources that prove that Printz winning was the right thing. I need two more.” He nodded.

“Alright, sounds good. You can do it, (Y/N). You’re smart, and you’re gonna kill it,” he said. You blushed at him behind your laptop.

“Thanks Dean, that means a lot.” Four hours later after some Googling, a fresh cup of coffee courtesy of Sam, and a move to the library, you had all of your sources. Deciding that that was good enough for the night (seeing as it was almost one thirty in the morning), you shut down your laptop and curled up in your favorite chair, nearly empty mug in hand. You had intended to finish the coffee and go to bed, but instead had started to drift off. You felt someone gently take the mug out of your hands, then arms slide under your arms and knees. Cracking an eye, you discovered Dean carrying you, wearing the same pajamas he had been in when he burst into your room the previous morning. After he had tucked you in, he placed a lingering kiss on your forehead and went to leave when you stopped him. “Stay.” He froze, then slowly turned around.

“You’re awake?” He saw the top of your head nod from the blankets, and since you couldn’t see him, you didn’t see the flush that rose from his neck. You were afraid he had left because you didn’t hear anything, but suddenly you felt the bed dip and a rush of cold air assault you as the blankets were lifted. “Why did you let me carry you if you were awake?” Dean murmured. You turned to face him, discovering he was closer than you thought, as you were almost touching noses. You shrugged.

“Why would I pass up a chance to get carried to bed by a super attractive guy?” You whispered back. You saw him smile, and he tilted his head to kiss the top of your nose.

“Why did you ask me to stay?” He asked. It was your turn to blush, luckily concealed by the shadow created by the blanket. You took a deep breath, unsure of how to continue.

“Uh, well, I guess I just liked how it felt to, um, wake up next to you,” you whispered. Dean smiled, and your shoulders relaxed.

“I liked that too,” he said. You leaned forward enough to touch noses, deciding to let him close the distance if he wanted to. He did. The kiss was slow and sweet, an exploration of each other. Your breath mixed and when he pulled you closer you settled yourself on top of him. He pulled back and studied your face, and you started to feel embarrassed.

“What?” You asked him. Dean shook his head.

“Nothing. Just thinking about how beautiful you look right now.” You blushed, and he reached up to cup your face, thumb brushing your cheek. “No, I’m serious. You’re absolutely gorgeous. I’m also thinking about how I’ve wanted to do this for the longest time but not doing it because I wanted you to focus on school,” he said. You leaned down and kissed him lightly on the forehead, then sighed and rested your forehead on his.

“As much as I’d love to continue what’s happening right now, I’m actually about to pass out,” you admitted as you rolled off him. Dean pulled you close to him, fitting his knees behind yours.

“Sleep well, princess,” he whispered as you felt him kiss your hair. You smiled, content with your situation, and hoping that what you thought was starting to happen was actually happening.

When you woke, you were alone. The sheets were still warm where Dean had been, so you were curious as to where he went. You grabbed your laptop and started it, checking your phone as you waited for it to boot up. One of your professors had emailed to tell you the exam that had been scheduled for Tuesday was being pushed back a week, which gave you more breathing room when it came to juggling writing and studying. Once your computer had started, you opened your page of sources and a new document, and were about two pages in when Dean returned.

“Hey princess. I made breakfast if you want to come to the kitchen to eat with me,” he said. You grinned at him.

“I could do that.” You gathered up your things and dropped them off at the library, Dean asking Sam if he wanted breakfast too.

“Sure, thanks Dean.” The three of you loaded up plates of food and were eating in a comfortable silence until Sam asked you how your research was going.

“I finished research last night,” you told him. “I actually fell asleep in my chair and Dean carried me to bed.” You laughed.

“He carried you to bed?” Sam looked between you and Dean, who had his head down to prevent you from seeing the pink on his cheeks.

“Uh, yeah, he did,” you said slowly. Sam looked at you, like he knew something secret.

“Did you two do anything else?” He asked. “I went to borrow something from his room this morning but he wasn’t there.”

“I uh, I asked him if, you know, he would stay with me. Last night. Like, sleep in my bed, next to me. We’re adults.” You couldn’t think properly and you kept rambling, Sam’s amused face throwing you off. Abruptly Dean stood up and grabbed your plates, putting them in the sink.

“You can go back to writing now, (Y/N),” he said tightly. “I know I interrupted when I asked you to come eat.”

“Oh, Dean you’re fine! Thank you for making breakfast,” you said. You went up on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “It was delicious.” You saw his shoulders relax, and left the kitchen to write some more. Over two hours later you were about half way done, but you had hit a road block. “Sam!” You yelled, summoning him from the kitchen where he had been putting away dishes. He came in with a towel in his hands and a question on his lips.

“What’s up (Y/N/N)?” You gestured to your computer, and he came to stand behind you.

“I hit a road block. I have stuff to say but I don’t know how to put it in words that make sense.” Sam dropped into the chair next to you and took your laptop.

“You’ve been writing for a long time. Go take a nap. I’ll read over this and make some notes and I’ll wake you up when I’m done, okay?” You nodded and stood, shuffling to your room. You laid in bed for a while, getting frustrated. You were tired, but you couldn’t sleep, so you did what you did as a kid; you flipped around so your head was where your feet go. You were just starting to feel drowsy when your door squeaked open. You didn’t want to open your eyes in the fear you’d wake back up, but did once you heard Dean laugh.

“What are you doing?” He chuckled at the sight of you, coming to sit on the edge of your bed. You rolled to your side and propped yourself up, looking at him.

“I’m sleeping. Or at least trying to,” you said. “I was actually falling asleep but you woke me up.”

“I meant why are you sleeping like that. And I’m sorry I woke you,” Dean added. You rolled forward some more until your head was on his thigh.

“Whenever I couldn’t sleep as a kid, I’d flip around and is be asleep in less than ten minutes. It still works.” Dean’s hand was in your hair, playing with it, and you could already feel yourself drifting again. “Oh, that feels nice,” you moaned as Dean’s fingers rubbed your scalp.

“Do you want a nap buddy?” He asked as he rubbed your head some more, and you were in such bliss you could only nod, feeling like you were melting into the bed at his touch. Dean laid on the bed next to you, and you curled up to rest your head on his shoulder. You were sleepily tracing curled on his chest when Dean suddenly grabbed your hand and pulled it up to his mouth. He kissed your palm, and as though compelled by some force, you climbed on top of him. “What are you doing?” He asked.

“Continuing what we started yesterday,” you murmured as you kissed his neck.

“Oh,” he breathed as you moved up his jaw to his ear. “I like this.” You grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up, nudging him help you get it off. He reciprocated, pulling your oversized tee off, then pulling your sports bra off after it. Gripping your hips, Dean flipped you over. He trailed kisses down your body from your neck to your stomach, and slowly, oh so slowly pulled your pajama pants off, leaving you in your underwear. He kissed your warm mound through the fabric and lightly bit the inside of your thigh before coming back up to kiss your lips.

“Sit back,” you whispered as you pushed Dean back. He complied, sitting against the headboard of your bed. You sat on his legs and leaned forward to kiss his chest, then lightly ran your tongue down his chest to his stomach. You hooked your fingers in the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers and pulled them down his legs, tossing them over your shoulder onto the growing pile of clothing. You took him in, panting slightly, cock hard and lying on his stomach.

You slid off the bed and stood at the foot, turning your back to Dean as you shimmied off your underwear, bending over seductively to give him the perfect view of your ass. You heard his breathing hitch and you turned around to see him lightly stroking himself, precum leaking out of the tip. You crawled on your hands and knees from the foot of the bed until you were sitting on him again, kissing him hard. Moving down his body again you bit his shoulder, leaving small indents there before kissing your way back down his body. You felt his dick hard under your, practically begging to get inside you but you weren’t going to let that happen yet.

You licked his shaft from base to tip, swirling your tongue around him. You felt Dean’s hand in your hair, and you looked up at him. “Nope, no touching. I’m doing this on my own terms.” He tried to argue, but you bared your teeth at him. “Do you want this to be fun or do you want it to hurt?” He put his hands up and folded them on his stomach.

“Continue, please.” You grinned up at him, and keeping eye contact, you licked him from base to tip again, then took him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks. “Aw, fuck,” he said, closing his eyes. With one hand you gripped him at the base, then went to work. You lightly raked your teeth up his cock, hand pumping him. You opened your eyes to see him gripping the blankets, head thrown back and breathing shallowly. His knuckles were white and you could tell he was close, so with one last pump of your hand you pulled yourself back up. “Hey, don’t tease me with a good time,” he groaned at the absence of your mouth on him. You kissed his neck some more, sucking a spot into it.

With a growl, Dean flipped you over again, attacking your neck with his mouth. You sighed, hips bucking up to meet his. “Having fun yet?” He asked you.

“So much,” you sighed, hands on his waist. Dean moved down your body, pausing to tend to your breasts. He gently bit your nipple, causing heat to flood your stomach. His other hand gently plucked at the other nipple, making it a hard nub. You dug your nails into his arms, arching your back to push your breast further into his mouth. Dean left your breasts and moved further down your body, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses. You almost screamed when his lips found your swollen clit, but managed to keep yourself mostly composed. A single finger slowly dipped itself inside you, opening you up. You squirmed at the sensations Dean was making you feel, hand grabbing at his hair. You pushed his face further between your legs, completely forgetting needing to breathe was a thing until Dean reminded you.

“(Y/N), babe. I love what you’re doing, I do, but I need to breathe.” You released his head, letting him go back to making you squirm. A second finger joined the first, and Dean’s free hand came up to knead your breast. You gripped his arm with one hand and his head with the other, tangling your fingers in his hair. You felt a familiar tightening in your stomach, and before the coil could snap you suddenly felt lips on yours and you were tasting yourself.

“That was mean. I was so close,” you whined. You opened your eyes to see Dean smirking at you.

“You did the same to me. I was just repaying the favor.” He ground his hips into you, and you were practically begging him to fuck you at that point. Giving you no warning, he suddenly slammed into you, and this time you did scream, not caring if Sam heard you. You raked your fingernails down Dean’s back, eliciting a hiss from him. He thrust into you hard and fast, and you wrapped your legs around his waist and held on for dear life. You felt the coil tighten in your stomach again and at the same time Dean’s thrusts got erratic, and with a shout you were both coming, Dean biting your shoulder before collapsing on top of you, his weight comforting.

“That wasn’t exactly a nap, but I feel just as relaxed. Thanks, Dean.” You kissed his temple. You laid there for a moment, but you started to get hot so you tried to push him off but he was too heavy. “Deeeaaaaan. You’re heavy and too hot. Move.” You tried shoving him again but he was laughing and not moving. After laughing at you for a minute he rolled off. You retrieved your phone from the floor, having heard it go off a couple times. The three texts you had were from Sam.

1/3 “Hey (Y/N), I was gonna come wake you up but based on the sounds coming from your room and the absence of my brother I decided to not do that.”
2/3 “So when you’re ready to come out I have some notes for you on your paper.”
3/3 “I ordered pizza which is here, when you two are ready to come out.” The last text had come about five minutes ago, so you grabbed your clothes off the floor and put them on.

“Why are you getting dressed?” Dean asked, pouting. You tossed him his clothes and headed to go to the bathroom.

“Sammy ordered pizza. And he has notes for my paper.” At the word pizza Dean started getting dressed and ran to the kitchen. As Dean piled pizza on his plate, Sam showed you the notes he made on your paper. After a few minutes of discussion you figured out how to continue your paper and instead of eating you wrote, afraid that if you didn’t get your thoughts down you’d forget. When you finally looked up, you caught Dean staring at you, admiration in his eyes. “What?” He blinked and shoved some pizza towards you.

“I just love how you look when you’re focused on what you’re doing,” he said. You ate some of the pizza and smiled.

“Get used to it. I’m going to be focused a lot this semester. I’ll still be able to help with your research but I have my own to do that I need to worry about more.” Sam chuckled.

“That’s not the only thing you’ll be focused on,” he muttered. Dean looked at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked.

“Well I had told (Y/N) that I’d wake her up when I had gone through her paper, but when I got to her room the things I heard coming out of it made me turn around.” Dean blushed.

“Ah. Okay, well, shut up.” Dean got up and took all the plates, and you moved to the library to do some studying for your test.

Around midnight you were struggling to keep your eyes open, and you felt arms circle your waist and a chin rest on your shoulder. “Come on princess, come to bed.” You shut your book and stood up, stretching your arms over your head.

“Could I have a back rub?” You asked. Dean nipped your neck.

“That’s not the only thing you’ll get. Come on.” He slapped your ass and ran off to your room.

Maybe this weekend wouldn’t be so bad after all.

feedmegoodgrammar asked:

Hey, Rin! I read that you were planning on looking for an editor sometime soon. Well, I volunteer as tribute! I love languages, and I've graded many of my friends' papers and enjoyed doing it. So much that I'm going to study to become an English teacher. I love your work so much, I've played everything you've created, and I'd love to work alongside you. I don't have room for more information, but let me know if you're even remotely interested. Good luck with EitD and CC!

I’ll reaaaaly need editors in the future :) I’ll send a post about it, as soon as my script is done!

Yeah? Celebdirtylaundry.com Has Real “Writers”--So Does the National Enquirer

I don’t know about you but when I was growing up, I was told by every adult I knew not to believe a thing in gossip papers like the National Enquirer. So I didn’t, and I don’t. But super-shippers are desperate now and so they are turning to an on-line rag to keep their shipping story alive.

Anonymous asked: ’‘ANYONE can submit fake info to sites like Celebrity Laundry. That site is crap, Jess.“
Irish lass answered: ’'I honestly don’t care??? Let me have my moment of happiness and excitement PLEASE”
Sherlock-Shipper: “You mean like how people submit that Cait has been with her real boyfriend Tiny? This one, however, has actual writers and editors. These articles are not fan written”.
Irish lass #I swear that was a typo #still gonna leave it #It is no disrespect to him #I’m mocking the anti 

So this is what celebdirtylaundry.com wrote:

“An extra for the show revealed, ‘Sam and Caitriona were taking a short break between scenes when I saw them off to the side, holding hands and Sam was even whispering in her ear. She was laughing at whatever he said and well, they looked like an ordinary couple.’”

Something tells me their vetting process at celebdirtylaundry.com is a tad less stringent than The New York Times. Who knows if there even was any vetting? 

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Timelapse finishing Mayim’s hair yesterday 💁🏻 All of you asked me to do more videos so I will try to record more and do some posts about it… Maybe after that I can make a video and open a youtube account too 🙈🙈 it was your idea! Not mine!! 😂😂 let me think about it… 😙

I don’t know if you would be bored of watching me doing hair 🙆🏻🙆🏻

I move the paper a lot, it happens all the time 🙏🙏 Sorry!

Happy Sunday 😊😘💕

#timelapse #timelapsedrawing #draw #drawing #hair #mayim #bialik #mayimbialik #fanart #portrait #art #tbbt #thebigbangtheory #thebigbangtheorycbs #thebigbangtheorycast #bigbangtheory #bigbang #amy #amyfarrahfowler #pencil #graphite