look sandra this is for you

Musicals By Their Best Insults
  • <p> <b><p></b> <b>Phantom of the Opera:</b> "Carlotta must be taught to act, not her normal trick of strutting round the stage. Our Don Juan must lose some weight- it's not healthy in a man of Piangi's age. And my managers must learn that their place is in an office, not the arts."<p/><b>Les Misérables:</b> "Master of the house? Isn't worth my spit! Comforter, philosopher and lifelong shit! Cunning little brain, regular Voltaire. Thinks he's quite a lover but there's not much there What a cruel trick of nature landed me with such a louse God knows how I've lasted living with this bastard in the house!"<p/><b>Wicked:</b> "I hope you're happy. I hope you're happy, too. I hope you're proud how you would grovel in submission to feed your own ambition!"<p/><b>Hamilton:</b> "Sittin’ there useless as two shits. Hey, turn around, bend over, I’ll show you where my shoe fits!" & "SIT DOWN JOHN YOU FAT MOTHERFUCKER!<p/><b>Heathers:</b> (<i>this entire musical is an insult</i>) "Freak! Slut! Burnout! Bug-eyes! Poser! Lard-ass!" & "SHUT UP HEATHER!"<p/><b>Love Never Dies:</b> (<i>this entire musical is an insult to humanity</i>) "Look at you, deep in debt. Stinking drunk, pitiful [...] Look at you, foul as sin. Hideous, horrible." & "Beauty sometimes goes unseen. We can't all be like Christine."<p/><b>Grease:</b> "Look at me, I'm Sandra Dee. Lousy with virginity. Won't go to bed 'til I'm legally wed. I can't; I'm Sandra Dee"<p/></p>

i saw a can of pumpkin spice cinnamon rolls at the store and it had a thing on the side like “make monkey bread” and i was like FUCK YEAH imma get this and throw it in a bundt pan and have easy as hell monkey bread BUT THEN i looked up the fucking instructions on the website and it’s like “3 cans of cinnamon rolls and a bag of caramels and some walnuts and butter and etc etc” and i am like BITCH i did not buy a can of fucking cinnamon rolls because i wanted to cook. this is some sandra lee levels of overcomplicating shit. i don’t need this. you think i’m going out and buying two more cans of actually-just-biscuits-with-delusions-of-grandeur for this? because i am. i bought a fucking bundt pan, i’ve committed. i don’t give a fuck about the sunk cost fallacy. i don’t care if there’s nothing stopping me from just making some fucking limited edition fall cinnamon rolls. this absurd monkey bread train has left the station. this is happening goddammit.

8

before this party a poc on this campus couldn’t even think the word “racism” without being accused of crying wolf. but just like it took a SANDRA BLAND, a TRAYVON MARTIN, and a PHILANDO CASTILE to wake some folks up, this party is what it took to wake this campus up. look. i sent the invite. i wrote it, broke into pastiche’s account, and sent it. it was fascinating to see what was lurking beneath the surface when you were given an excuse to suspend your polite, passive liberalism. i considered it a sociological experiment. and guess what. you proved my point. WINCHESTER, WE GOT A PROBLEM.

Missing Bughead scene from 2x06

“I’m doing this to protect you.”

The words filtered through his brain like liquid fire, he was hurting, and it burned, but.. god there were ashes, there was hope.

There had to be a reason, something so painful and difficult it made raindrop tears gather in the corner of Betty Coopers haunted green eyes.

“I love you, I don’t think I can stop.”

She loved him, she had said so surrounded by his new family and his old, dirt under his boots and that flimsy white tank top that made it hard for Jughead not to run his fingers over the bare skin of her arms. She looked like something out of a dream, The Beautiful and wholesome Sandra Dee to his double edged, hard knock life Danny Zuko. She was holding something though, something so heavy he could practically see the physical weight of the burden on her shoulders.

She was pressed against the glass window of Reggie Mantles slick black camaro, teeth tearing into the soft skin of her perfectly pink lips. She wasn’t speaking and neither was he, both teens were thoroughly shook from the events that had just taken place. They were scared, and…damn it seemed like they both had reasons to be, it was about time Jughead found out Betty’s.

The car jolted to a stop, Betty snapping forward, her eyes quickly landing on Jugheads.

“What’s the matter?! What’s happening?! we can’t just stop, the police!” She was frantic, her fingers reaching for her cell phone as “unknown” flashed on the screen for the third time in the past fifteen minutes.

“Call it a pit stop, you wanna answer that call Betty?” Jugheads voice was calm and level, every nerve of his body was vibrating but he was calm on the outside. They were going to talk about this and they were going to talk about it now.

The ringing came to an abrupt stop and Betty dropped the phone to the space between the seats

“No.” She whispered “No I’m not.” Her eyes catching his, if he wanted to talk about it She was ready, he could tell from the flicker in her eyes.

“You said..” Jughead cleared his throat, mouth dry with anxiety “you said that I wouldn’t understand, that you were trying to protect me? Betty who are you protecting me from?”

The beautiful blonde in the seat beside him took an audibly shaky breath, her fingers twisting together as she stared down at her hands before she began

“I’ve been getting… calls. I’ve been getting calls from the black hood, a lot of calls.” She whispered, the words sounding almost robotic as she repeated what she had told Veronica “you remember the letter? How he said he’s doing this all for me? Well, he meant it, when I talk to him, when I listen to him, he doesn’t hurt anyone, he doesn’t kill. I’m stopping him, but only if I listen. He…” Betty released her fingers placing a hesitant hand on Jugheads arm, not surprised to see the anger in his eyes. “He said he would hurt you unless I cut everything off. He won’t leave me alone. He… he’s obsessed with me.”

It was a silent for a moment, processing time, no time to think, just absorb, take it in.

But only for a second.

His lips were on hers, his fingers threading through her ponytail as he knocked the tiny red bandana from her hair. He was whispering something against her lips, it sounded like a prayer as he pushed his forehead against hers.

“I love you.” He whispered “I’m sorry.”

Betty’s hands came up to cup his cheeks

“I love you, don’t be sorry. I’m sorry I sent Archie, I couldn’t face you. I knew… I knew you would be able to tell, I knew that you would know I was lying. You know me Jughead, better than anyone else.”

The young Serpents face contorted into something of pure anguish

“I don’t though, I gave up on you. I stopped believing in you, in us. Betty I have to tell you something.” His voice cracked, a broken sound that ripped right through Betty’s heart, a worried frown marring her perfect features.

“It’s okay.” She whispered, fingers stroking his cheeks “it’s okay, you can tell me.”

He couldn’t look at her, not after this, not after everything seemed to be falling into place for the moment and he was about to destroy whatever peace they had made.

“Me and Toni… we kissed, we kissed more than once.” The words fell from his lips, his eyes searching hers desperately for something, anything.

Slowly but agonizingly painful her fingers slipped from his face, her body pushing closer to the Camaros door.

“I saw you.” She whispered a far away look in her eyes “at Pops, with her, just the day after. You were happy, she makes you happy.”

“No!” Jughead came close to wailing “no, it’s not like that. She’s my friend, she knows I could never be over you. Betty I love you. It was a heat of the moment thing. I thought you were gone. You make me happy, I love you Betty Cooper.” He dropped his forward to hers, tears falling to his cheeks and onto the leather of his jacket. He pulled her closer, the emergency brake digging into her thigh.

After a few moment of painful silence that seemed to go on for hours, Betty spoke

“We have things we need to work on. We have things we still need to talk about, work through, but… I’m here and so are you and I think… I know we can get through this… together.” Her eyes finally found his, sadness still there but something new, something familiar.

She was Tired. Tired of fighting it, tired of being away from him. Just tired, and so was he and there was still a war going on, still things being thrown at them from every direction but…

They were here, and that?

That meant everything.

Damian getting to be a tween and limbs growing and gets clumsy. He eventually ends up getting hurt in public, maybe at WE. Maybe he busts his lips or smashes his chin open, and everyone is like “ohhhh my gosh that’s a lot of blood!!” And he just sniffs, “I’m fine.”

But all the employees are like “no you should probably see a doctor, we’ll call your dad and he can take you”

“do not call my father”

“come on kid you’re bleeding all over my desk”

“it’s nothing”

“there’s no need to act like such a tough guy that looks like it hurts”

“I’m not acting–”

“Sandra says that Mr. Wayne will be here in two minutes”

Bruce comes down and is a little surprised at how serious the wound is. “Oh yeah,” he observes, inspecting the boy’s chin. “Got yourself good, may need some stitches. Come on.”

Damian sulkily follows his father out of the office, shooting death glares at all the supportive words and looks.

Damian protests under his breath, muttering, “It’s not even that bad, I could have just waited until I got home.”

“I’m here now, might as well not bother Alfred with any more blood and scrapes than we need to.”

Eventually it culminates to not-quite-a-fight inside the doctor’s office. Or Damian trying to fight and Bruce side-stepping every comment.

Doctor: Any allergies?

Damian: Yes, I’m allergic to the BULLSHIT KNOWN AS HUMANITY

Bruce: He’s allergic to pine nuts.

You Bring Out the Mexican in Me

by Sandra Cisneros

You bring out the Mexican in me.
The hunkered thick dark spiral.
The core of a heart howl.
The bitter bile.
The tequila lágrimas on Saturday all
through next weekend Sunday.
You are the one I’d let go the other loves for,
surrender my one-woman house.
Allow you red wine in bed,
even with my vintage lace linens.
Maybe. Maybe.

For You.

You bring out the Dolores del Rio in me.
The Mexican spitfire in me.
The raw navajas, glint and passion in me.
The raise Caine and dance with the rooster-footed devil in me.
The spangled sequin in me.
The eagle and serpent in me.
The mariachi trumpets of the blood in me.
The Aztec love of war in me.
The fierce obsidian of the tongue in me.
The berrinchuda, bien-cabrona in me.
The Pandora’s curiosity in me.
The pre-Columbian death and destruction in me.
The rainforest disaster, nuclear threat in me.
The fear of fascists in me.
Yes, you do. Yes, you do.

You bring out the colonizer in me.
The holocaust of desire in me.
The Mexico City ’85 earthquake in me.
The Popocatepetl Ixtaccíhuatl in me.
The tidal wave of recession in me.
The Agustín Lara hopeless romantic in me.
The barbacoa taquitos on Sunday in me.
The cover the mirrors with cloth in me.

Sweet twin. My wicked other,
I am the memory that circles your bed nights,
that tugs you taut as moon tugs ocean.
I claim you all mine,
arrogant as Manifest Destiny.
I want to rattle and rent you in two.
I want to defile you and raise hell.
I want to pull out the kitchen knives,
dull and sharp, and whisk the air with crosses.
Me sacas lo mexicana en mi,
like it or not, honey.

You bring out the Uled-Nayl in me.
The stand-back-white-bitch in me.
The switchblade in the boot in me.
The Acapulco cliff diver in me.
The Flecha Roja mountain disaster in me.
The dengue fever in me.
The !alarma¡ murderess in me.
I could kill in the name of you and think
it worth it. Brandish a fork and terrorize rivals,
female and male, who loiter and look at you,
languid in your light. Oh,

I am evil. I am the filth goddess Tlazoltéotl.
I am the swallower of sins.
The lust goddess without guilt.
The delicious debauchery. You bring out
the primordial exquisiteness in me.
The nasty obsession in me.
The corporal and venial sin in me.
The original transgression in me.

Red ocher. Yellow ocher. Indigo. Cochineal.
Piñón. Copal. Sweetgrass. Myrhh.
All you saints, blessed and terrible,
Virgen de Guadalupe, diosa Coatlicue,
I invoke you.

Quiero ser tuya. Only yours. Only you.
Quiero amarte. Atarte. Amarrarte.
Love the way a Mexican woman loves. Let
me show you. Love the only way I know how.


2

Can love travel back in time and heal a broken heart? Was it our joined hands that finally lifted Maria’s curse? I’d like to think so. There’s some things, though, I know for certain. Always throw spilled salt over your left shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Plant lavender for luck. And fall in love whenever you can.

The One That I Want

Has this been done already? I don’t know. I got back from two and a half hours of straight dancing at a Halloween party and I was inspired so here ya go. 

A College Bughead Halloween AU

There is a read more line! Sorry if you’re on mobile and it glitches


“Are you sure you don’t want to trade that poodle skirt for a leather jacket and some red lipstick? It’s never too late.” Veronica said for the millionth time that evening, adjusting her own hair in the mirror. 

Betty looked at her pale yellow skirt and matching cardigan, frowning as she compared it to Veronica’s metallic skirt and baby blue crop top. “I think I’ll stick with the Sandra Dee costume I already have.”

“Suit yourself.” Veronica shrugged, “I’m just saying you could afford to show off your body every once in a while. And it’s Halloween! It’s as good a time as any to let loose.”

Betty turned toward Veronica, placing one last beaded clip in the raven-haired girl’s extensions and smiling, “Well we don’t all have gorgeous boyfriends who agree to be the sailor to our mermaid.” Veronica blushed a bit, the shimmer of her purple highlighter fusing with the pink tinge of pride, “And I’m pretty sure end-of-the movie Sandy requires a Danny. At least this way it’s a bit more vague.”

Veronica placed a gentle hand on Betty’s shoulder, a gesture Betty knew was meant to make her feel comforted but only served to make her feel pitied. “Nice girl Sandra Dee it is.” She resigned, giving Betty’s arm a small squeeze before waving the moment away with a flick of her wrist. “Alright, let’s go. I’m sure Archie has been waiting for long enough.”

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8

Always throw spilled salt over your left shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Add pepper to your mashed potatoes. Plant roses and lavender, for luck. Fall in love whenever you can.

Best Teacher In The World

Kindergarten Teacher!Dean x Reader

A/N: I saw this post about what a great kindergarten teacher Dean would be, and I totally agree, so this one-shot followed. It’s just fluff and Dean being adorable. What’s new?

Word Count: 2100+

Tags: @mrswhozeewhatsis @daydreamingintheimpala @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @amoreagron @spnfangirl1965 @aristtewinchesterholmes @thisisthelilith @chelsea072498 @skymoonandstardust @apeshit7x @aiaranradnay @anokhi07 @tatortot2701 @jerkbitchidjitassbutt  @mangasia @sharkeeshark @maui137 @mogaruke @zanthiasplace @extreme-supernatural-lover  @feelmyroarrrr @mrsbatesmotel53 @ronniesanter @jensen-jarpad @27bmm  @just-another-busy-fangirl @deathtonormalcy56

“…re you go, buddy. You call me if you need any more help, all right? Natalie, you good there?”

Knocking on the ajar door, you peek into the classroom to find the 5-year-olds on their morning break, eating and talking, a teacher with them who’s currently helping a little girl opening her bottle of apple juice. The same teacher your friend keeps telling you about, the same teacher everyone is in love with, according to her. Dean Winchester. She’s mentioned him so many times that his name is now seared into your brain.

“Can I help you?” His eyes find you, and right then it’s easy to figure out why the moms like him. He’s way too attractive.

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Domestic Klance Moments, Family Edition

[Part Two]

  • Keith and Lance are arguing after their dinner date about who has to drive home from the restaurant. Lance looks away for a minute. “Babe, look.” Keith says. Lance turns around to see Keith down a bottle of wine that was on the table.
  • While the kids are out, they take the opportunity to play their ultimate playlist on one of their phones and dance like embarrassing grandpas in their living room until one of them starts laughing.
  • They give each other back rubs after a long day.
  • They would make awesome dads (with little to none questionable irresponsibilities lol).
    • Lance: You gave our hyper 5 year old Sprite?!
    • Keith: There’s no caffeine in it!
  • Disneyland with Keith, Lance, and their kids.
    • Can you imagine….how cute they be….the whole family….riding in the spinning teacups.
    • Cheesy disney family photos where the whole family is wearing mickey ears and they’re posing with a mascot.
    • Their kids are wearing costumes of their favorite disney character.
  • The first time they had a baby, they couldn’t stop feeling anxious about leaving them for a minute. They were clingy.
    • Lance: Maybe I should check up on them one more time…
    • Allura: Lance, we just walked out the door.
    • Keith: Oh my god, I forgot to give Lance’s mom (baby)’s favorite toy.
    • Hunk: Keith, we’re only gonna be gone for half an hour.
  • Their babies would calm down easily with their singing. Sometimes they’ll sing in English, sometimes in Spanish, sometimes in Korean.
  • They just…become so soft when they’re around their babies.
    • Lance tickling his baby’s tummy with his nose. 
    • Keith playing peek-a-boo. 
    • That one airplane game where they lie on their backs, hold their baby’s hands, and lift them up with their legs. 
    • Keith passed out with their baby also passed out on his chest, Lance taking photos.
  • When they have little arguments and Keith is being difficult or stubborn, like refusing to go take a shower or something, Lance just picks him up. Just lifts him up, grabs him by the waist, drapes him vertically over his shoulder, like a sack, like a parent taking their child to their time out spot. The first time Lance did this, Keith was so pleasantly impressed with his strength that he forgot he was upset. After many times however, Keith just has a resigned annoyed face.
    • Keith: Stop manhandling me.
    • Lance: Hah! You love it, don’t lie.
    • He does. He loves it a lot.
    • Consider, Keith pinching his butt when he carries him like that again.
  • You know those parents who give their new born baby a new born pet? Yeah, that’s them.
    • Lance, holding a camcorder, crying: Keith, I can’t take this, our baby is snuggling the puppy, I’m really gonna die.
    • Keith: Don’t you dare fucking die, you’re going to capture every second of this cute moment, so help me god.
  • I think these two would be sentimental enough to capture one another doing mundane things, one second of everyday, every year into a little video project, which shows what loving saps they are for the other.
    • Moments like: Keith looking at the sunset out the balcony. Keith sleeping in bed, the light hitting his face. Keith with a cup of coffee in his hands, laughing. Keith reading and petting a cat. Keith walking and carrying shopping bags. Keith putting seat belts on his kids. Keith chasing his kids in the backyard.
    • Moments like: Lance sitting on a surfboard, laughing. Lance building sandcastles with his kids. Lance baking. Lance singing in the shower. Lance walking the dog. Lance wiping his kid’s nose. Lance washing the dishes.
  • Their kids have nightmares sometimes so Lance and Keith let them sleep on their bed, no matter how old they are.
  • On Christmas mornings, their kids would jump on their bed to wake them up. They’re probably bruised.
    • They do the whole leaving milk and cookies for Santa (which Lance and Keith share together).
      • Their kid: Why are there two empty glasses here?
      • Lance: Uhh….Santa was probably really thirsty.
    • Their kids are tearing apart the gift wrapping like animals, but Keith and Lance are drinking coffee together and watching them fondly.
  • Game night is intense in this family, you got the most competitive couple and the kids who were raised by these two.
    • Wii sports resort competitions. They probably hurt the other on accident with a Wii remote once or twice.
  • Lance and Keith always record their kids’ performing recitals.
    • Lance: You’re doing amazing sweetie!
  • They’re actually pretty chill in PTA meetings (or at least, Lance is), but if you criticize their kids, they’re definitely going to be savage lol.
    • Keith: The only shit I smell is the platter that looks like an animal died in it, that you call casserole, Sandra.
10

“Why do you want to kiss me?”

“What’s wrong with kissing my girlfriend?”

anonymous asked:

letterboxd is asking its community for their lists of most remarkable feature debuts. so what is your top 10 most remarkable debuts from women directors?

SUPER FUN QUESTION.

Also I feel like I could give like 10 answers from last year alone but I’ll try to contain myself. (J/K I CAN’T CONTAIN MYSELF, GET READY FOR THE NOVEL!)

Clip dir. Maja Milos (2012)
Imagine a more brutal version of Thirteen set in the social media era in Serbia and you have Clip, a brutal movie about a 14 year old girl who engages in a highly sexualized and often violent relationship with one of her classmates. It’s a shocking watch especially because Milos doesn’t try to protect her lead character (played by an actual 14 year old) at all and doesn’t shield her (or the audience) from the sado-masochistic behaviour she engages in in order to get attention and feel love.

My Brilliant Career dir. Gillian Armstrong (1979)
So this is like the stereotypical period piece about a plucky young woman discovering herself only it’s SO MUCH BETTER THAN THAT. A really beautiful and quietly subversive period piece that is so visually stunning and self-assured that it doesn’t feel like a first film at all. A must see.

Titus dir. Julie Taymor (1999)
When people say that a movie is like a theatre piece they usually mean it as an insult but Titus applies the “anything goes” spirit of theatre in the most fun and flamboyant way. This is a really bombastic, unforgettable visual adaptation of one of Shakespeare’s lesser known plays. Taymor mixes genres, time periods and references in a way that is intensely fresh and unique.  

Fill the Void dir. Rama Burshstein (2012)
This is a romantic drama about a young Israeli woman who is part of an Orthodox Jewish community who, after her sister dies, is prompted to consider marrying her sister’s widower so that he can remain in the family. Despite the icky sounding premise Burshtein (herself an Orthodox Jew) is intensely sympathetic to her characters and shows a total command of her camera and the tone of the movie which is just beautiful, passionate and romantic.

The Connection dir. Shirley Clarke (1961)
This is a bit of a cheat because Shirley Clarke had directed documentaries before but whatever. The Connection takes place in real time and is about a very square documentarian who is filming a movie about a bunch of jazz musicians waiting around for their drug connection so they can get high. It definitely feels very tame for the current day but considering the film takes place in a single room Clarke packs the movie full of electric energy that makes it incredibly pleasurable to watch.

The Fits dir. Anna Rose Holmer (2015)
This is just an incredible majestic film. Very spare, very artistic, very beautiful. Holmer is a genius and the movie is a gift. She does more on a budget of 150, 000 euros or whatever it was, than most directors do with millions.

Songs My Brothers Taught Me dir. Chloé Zhao (2015)
There is a whole cottage industry of low budget filmmakers who think they can be the next Malick, but I think Zhao is the only one who really gets it right. This film is set in on the Pine Ridge reservation and Zhao shoots everything at the golden hour making it look incredibly lush while never shying away from the roughness and occasional boredom of small town life.

The Governess dir. Sandra Goldbacher (1998)
I have literally no idea why this film isn’t bigger than it is and it’s really due for a critical revival. It’s a neo-victorian original tale about a young Sephardic Jewish woman who hides her identity and goes to work as a governess on the Isle of Skye. Unfortunately the only copies I’ve been able to view are of very poor quality but you can still see how beautiful it must have originally been. Also the story is incredibly rich and textured and deals with power dynamics between men and women, Jews and gentiles, science vs. art etc.  

The Babadook dir. Jennifer Kent (2014)
This is a horror movie for people who aren’t really into horror and as such it’s PERFECT. What it really is more than anything is a dark modern day fairy tale about a recently widowed woman who is having a tough time adjusting to life as a single mother to her child who is genuinely the most annoying child to ever grace the screen (really, kudos to casting, you completely understand why this woman would struggle to raise this kid).

A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night dir. Ana Lily Amirpour (2014)
So good. A surprisingly wistful and romantic vampire film in which “the girl” (the vampire) skateboards in a chador, dances alone in her room, befriends a cat, and drinks the blood of a LOT of people. It’s great.

Honourable mentions: La Pointe Courte, Children of a Lesser God, The Edge of Seventeen, Sugar Cane Alley, Smithereens, Eve’s Bayou, I Like It Like That, Hester Street, A New Leaf, Chocolat.

2

Should Have Listened - Derek Morgan Imagine

Derek x reader

Summary: The team doesn’t know about Derek’s new girlfriend until she becomes a vital part of a new case they’re working.


JJ laid the folder in front of each of them. ‘3 women, all kidnapped and murdered in the last two weeks’ Hotch explained. ‘Right here in Washington, the last one was kidnapped yesterday’ He sat and clicked the remote three pictures coming up on the board. ‘They all look the same, that’s a clear link between victims’ Reid observed.

Derek lifted his head to look at the women, they seemed familiar, like he’d seen them before. ‘That’s not the only one’ Prentiss looked at the file. ‘They all work in The Dover Institute, all on the same ward’ That got Derek’s attention. ‘They work where?’ He began flicking through the sheets and sure enough they all worked at the same place. No wonder he had recognized them.

Derek shoved his chair back before hurrying out of the room. ‘Hey, Morgan, wh-’ But Hotch was cut off by the door closing behind the agent. When outside he pulled his phone from his belt and pressing the speed dial.


You looked down at you phone as it began to ring. ‘Excuse me’ You smiled politely at the nurse you were speaking to. Rounding the corner you hit the answer button. ‘Hey Babe’ You smiled chirping into the phone. ‘Let me guess, new case you’ll be gone for a few’ It was always that when he called you at work. ‘New case, right here. Listen to me sweetheart’ He rushed and the smile instantly fell from your face.’Tell them you’re sick go home pack a bag and go to mine, do not let anyone in, do not stop and talk to anyone, always have someone around you. Do not, ever, be on your own until you get into mine, and stay there’ You furrowed your eyebrows.

What was this? Why did he need you to go? You were already understaffed with Aine not turning up for work and Sandra being on holiday. Then there was Denise, you didn’t even want to think about what happened to her, the poor girl’s body was found almost a week ago. ‘Derek, I ca-’ He grunted at the other end. ‘No, Y/n, listen to me. There’s some guy going around killing people from your ward, they look exactly like you. Go to mine. Now’ Your hand flew to your mouth. ‘You-you mean Denise? Is that what happened to Aine? She never showed up today. Oh God’ You fell back into the chair.

You heard his uneven breathing on the other end of the phone. ‘Sweetheart, no, listen, calm down, deep breaths, come on, deep breaths’ You could feel the tears coming in your eyes. ‘Calm down?’ You hissed. ‘Derek, by the way you’re making it sound I’m next, oh god. Poor Aine’ You closed your eyes willing not to cry. ‘Three, there’s been three abductions Y/n, you’re not next, I’m just being safe, please go home beautiful, please’ You froze your body rigid.

Three? ‘Derek, three? There’s only two of us mi-Sandra? She-shes supposed to be on holidays’ You felt a tear slip out of your eye rolling down your cheek. ‘We found another body, three. Sweetheart, go home. Now’ You nodded frantically wiping your tear from your face. ‘Y-yeah, I’ll grab my stuff a-and be at yours in an hour’ You told him. ‘Good, thank you beautiful, ring me when you get back, ring me if you’re alone. Promise’ You nodded again. ‘Promise, I’ll see you later’ You hung up and dropped your head into your hands.

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I did a quick drabble for @krusca who shares wonderful art with us and deserves nice things.  

“We should get married,” Steve said, wearing a wide, goofy grin as he leaned his elbows on the table and wiped his hands with the napkin Tony had thrown his way.

“Because I make a mean manicotti?” Tony asked.  The espresso machine was brewing, making a low, whistling sound that made Clint cough something that sounded an awful lot like Pavlov whenever he heard it.  

“Because we’d be good together,” Steve replied, still beaming at Tony, who couldn’t help but return the smile, shaking his head as he did.  “We are good together.”

“What with all of our shared life experiences?” Tony retorted with a low huff of disbelief, then made a happy, humming noise when the espresso machine clicked off.  “Come on, old man.  The park thing with the flowers?  That was Lang’s idea, wasn’t it?”

“He wasn’t supposed to actually be on the flowers,” Steve muttered.

“That whole post-battle thing with the fire hydrant going off and it was all wet and very Notebook-y and, don’t get me wrong, I was this close to offering to build you the house of your dreams, but, you know, one of these days, some tabloid or gossip rag’s going to hear you, take you seriously and then you’ll have to make an honest man out of me,” Tony warned with what he meant as a leer, though his face felt tight, unnatural, like it didn’t quite want to follow through on what his brain was telling it to do and ended up caught halfway to something else entirely.

“I’m trying,” Steve told him, the grin dropping off his face.  It was theoretically possible he was actually listening to what Tony was saying, Tony figured, in the flash of seconds before the beatific smile was back, this time more practiced, though, the kind of smile that held a giant you-can-all-kiss-my-ass behind it.  Tony thought it might be his favorite.  Not that he…cataloged Steve’s smiles. Which would be weird.  And was something he was definitely not doing. “Maybe they will hear. I wouldn’t care.”

“Flattered as I am,” Tony began, taking a sip of his espresso and letting it roll around his tongue before swallowing.  Something flickered across Steve’s face, and he dropped his eyes down to his empty plate for a moment before raising them back to Tony.  “We can’t have your reputation suffering by association, Cap. Besides, I did defiling an American icon when I was sixteen and got to third base with Sandra Boswell on top of Dad’s roadster.  Please don’t look for deeper meaning in that.  It was close and wipeable.”

“Why would my reputation suffer?” Steve asked.  “You’re a great catch.  Smart. Funny.  Handsome.  Look at all you’ve done, not just for us, but with the Maria Stark Foundation. That thing at MIT.  The clean energy, intellicrops, the—“

“Pepper send you the PR brochure?” Tony snorted.  

“You’re a good man, Tony. Sorry.  I don’t mean to…make you uncomfortable,” Steve replied, a bit haltingly, frowning around the words.  

“Ah, Cap, don’t do that. With the…the kicked puppy face thing. You’re killing me,” Tony said as lightly as he could manage.  His chest was tight and his stomach was doing that swooping thing it did whenever Steve complimented him, which, come to think of it, was a lot lately.  Guy probably had it on one of his to-do lists. Say Something Nice About Tony. Check. “Wanna watch a movie?  Nothing romantic.  You might get ideas,” Tony laughed, coughing and wiping a hand over his mouth as he did because it sounded wrong.  Less like a laugh and more like…something that wasn’t a laugh at all.  “Something really disturbing and deeply unsettling, like, I don’t know, Alien or the one where the woman wants to screw the animated bee.”

“Okay, Tony,” Steve said, the smile back, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes, Tony noticed.

The Makeup Artist -/Fionn Whitehead Part 1.

-

Hi, it’s Tia! I apologise for not posting in a while, I’ve had major writer’s block and my life has just been hectic. I should have loads of imagines posted soon! 

I got this idea and I thought it would be perfect for a miniseries and for it to be about Fionn. The romance will happen soon, don’t worry! The first part was for you to get an insight and what not!

If you have some requests regarding Fionn, send them ‘here’.

Hope you enjoy. xx

-

The crisp air causes a crimson pigment to proclaim on the apples of your cheeks as you strolled down the street to get to your destination of the set for Dunkirk. You were lucky to grasp this job vacancy as it was a huge opportunity for your career in makeup. From the experience you had, you normally had to bring your own equipment. However, with this project being funded vastly, you were not required to bring any of your own possessions. Foremost, the actors also needed to illustrate all of their struggles and challenges through makeup (which would allow the acting to look more realistic): they had to look dirty and shiny. Not with fresh looking faces and with all of their blemishes covered up, no. They needed to look like someone had literally slapped them in the face with dirt.

Grasping onto the warm coffee cup, you started to see the set approach you. The hundreds of extras dotted around the beach front, already dressed in their costumes but faces looking fresh, not aesthetically suitable for the scene that would be filmed, shortly.

Nodding your head in a greeting manner every time you walked past one of the crew members, you walked to one of the makeup stations, situated at the top of the beach near the brick wall. You placed your back pack on the white plastic table and your latte next to it. Each of the makeup items had already been placed on the white tables in the tent, ready for usage.

The organisation for the makeup artists and stylists were that each makeup artist was given one of the listed characters (main characters) while the extras were just about working fast to get to each of them. There were over a dozen makeup artists on the set, which meant not all of them got one of the main characters, however, you were lucky enough to catch your grab on Harry, Harry Styles. Which when you found out you had Harry, you were bewildered. Surely, he would have someone more experienced or even his own personal makeup artists than little ole’ me?

Taking a large gulp of your drink, your eyes brightened at the sight of Harry and Fionn approaching your station. If you were to say you were a little bit more excited to see Fionn than Harry, would that be deemed wrong? Although over the time period of a couple of months of working on the set, you and Harry had become close, friend-wise that is, the boy is too disgusting to be seen as anything further. Even off set, with the limited time you do have off, you and Harry would go and adventure out together.

“Hi, Harry. Fionn..?” You trailed, knowing how hectic it was to get the characters looking dirty with the limited amount of time you had, so why was Fionn still looking fresh and cute? Not that the cute had any relevance, but…

“Oi, an’ where is my coffee,” Harry said with a slight huff, then finishing with a smirk.

“I’m your makeup artist Harry, not your assistant,” you joked back and motioned for Harry to sit on the chair so you could start the makeup application.

“Tha’s fine then, I’ll just have som’ of yours,” Harry smirked and grabbed your coffee cup and took a sip. With a huff and the roll of both of your eyes, you muttered that Harry could have the rest. Legitimately a child, he was.

“Oh, an’ Fionn is jus’ gonna hang here fo’ a bit, cause’ Sandra is busy sorting out Barry because one of the makeup artists called in sick,” Harry said, while intently watching you as you sorted all of the makeup that you would need specifically for Harry, as there were some extras that weren’t necessary.

“I may as well as do you as well, Fionn. That is, if I finish with Harry in enough time,” You replied, looking at Fionn as you spoke. A blush makes its way to your cheeks, but you are hoping loud mouth (Harry) wouldn’t pick up on that.

“You make that sound like a gang bang, love,” Harry smirked. A gasp escaped your mouth as you gently slapped Harry on the top of the head. A laugh erupted from Fionn, which caused you to smile.

“S'not nice is it,” Harry mumbled and then took another sip of your drink. You rolled your eyes before grabbing the extra chair and shuffled it closer to Harry so you could apply the makeup. Fionn had already situated himself on the extra chair and watched you apply the makeup.

“Gotta’ make you look like you’ve been beaten when I could do that without the makeup, with the way you are going with annoying me, I could give you two black eyes fo’ free,” you mumbled sarcastically as you dipped the makeup sponge in the brown pigmented makeup. Harry’s eyebrows scrunched up and pouted his lips.

“Told yah, Fionn. She bullies me,” Harry mumbled.

“Nah, mate, she’s fuckin’ funny,” Fionn replied causing your cheeks to explode in a redness. Harry’s eyes widened when he caught the eruption of crimson cover the apples of your cheeks.

“Oi oi…” Harry said with a smirk. You attempted to hide the ever-growing blush on your face by untucking the piece of hair behind your ear. You padded more of the brown pigment onto your sponge and dabbed it around Harry’s eye. At the same moment, Harry raised his eyebrows and tilted his head in Fionn’s direction.

“Stop it…” You mumbled and tried to focus on the makeup application. Once you were finished with Harry’s makeup, it was Fionn’s turn.

“Right, you’re done, mister. Fionn, it’s your turn,” you said while placing your items down and finding a clean-unused sponge. More so, making yourself look busy so you could avoid Harry’s teasing smirk. When you looked back up, Fionn was now sat on the chair and Harry sat where Fionn once was. You gave Harry a knowing look as he still needed his hair done, which only received a smirk and a shrug as a response.

After dabbing the right amount of makeup onto the sponge, you started applying it to Fionn’s face. The close proximity of the both of your faces made it incredibly hard for you to focus. Being this close to his face allowed you to see the intricate details of his face: from his freckles to his mole on his chin, to the beautiful green tint in his eyes.

Also at this very moment, Fionn was inspecting your intricate details: to how beautiful you looked with the minimal makeup you were wearing, to your plump cherry tinted lips that looked incredibly kissable.

To say that it was hard for him to compose himself was definite.

To say that it was hard for you to keep your professional conduct together was also a definite

You almost had to stop breathing because you were afraid of breathing in his face. That was how close you were to his face. What if your breath was bad? Had the Latte you had earlier affected the smell? Probably.

He almost had to close his eyes because all he could stare at was your lips. What if he accidentally kissed you? Would you have kissed back? Would it have made things incredibly awkward? Probably.

“It looks like you both are gonna’ kiss, wit’ how close you are,” Harry teased, causing you and Fionn to move away from each other abruptly. Fionn’s hand awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, while you coughed to try and disguise your blushing.

“Um, yeah, you’re done Fionn,” you mumbled and placed the makeup down, refusing to look him in the eyes as you were too embarrassed.

“Uh, thanks, love,” Fionn replied and got up from his seat. One of the makeup artists approached the tent and explained how you were asked for, seeing as there were fewer hands with sorting the makeup out.

“I’ll see you two later, then. And, Harry you owe me a latte,” you said and waved goodbye. Once you collected all the makeup items you needed and was out of sight, Harry turned and smirked at Fionn.

“Now, I thought The Notebook was the most romantic thing I’ve seen, but damn, I was wrong,” Harry smirked.

“Shut up, Harry.”

“You should get her number, ask her out on a date. You both seem keen on each other,” Harry said while raising his eyebrows.

“She’ll just say no,” Fionn mumbled.

“Mate, Y/N was basically eye-fucking you, doubt she’ll say no,” Harry chuckled and patted Fionn’s shoulder, gesturing him to move, seeing as they were needed by their hair stylists.

“Let me work some magic and I’ll get you a date with her,” Harry said while putting his thumbs up.

“Oh dear god.”

Incomplete

[Summary]: After finding out that your boyfriend Bucky had a one-night stand, your world came crashing down hard and you walk out of his life. Will you give him a second chance? Or will you leave him feeling incomplete?

[Pairing]: Bucky x reader (Steve is mentioned)

[Warning]: angst… SO. MUCH. ANGST. um.. there’s also mentions of cheating, drinking and a tiny bit of swearing.. also a teeny-tiny bit of abuse

[Word Count]: 2,295 (This is the longest one I’ve ever written! Damn, this got really wordy…)

Requested by: @ouatalways

Tagging: @bovaria @marvel-ash @just-call-me-mrs-captain @dividedwecantfall @buckysmetallicstump @mellifluous-melodramas @avengerofyourheart @buckyslion @metalarmproblems @marvelingatthewonder @beccaanne814-blog @mcuimxgine @capsbuchanan @imagine-assembling-the-avengers @that-sokovian-bastard @hellomissmabel @abovethesmokestacks @maybe-mikala @violentlyfarts @hymnofthevalkyries @after-avenging-hours @buckys-shield @buckysberrie @callamint @redgillan @whotheeffisbucky @candyrogers @blueeyedbucky @tragicalchemist @marvelous-fvcks @professionally-crazed @thetalesofmooseandsquirrel @fanfic-shiz @i-dont-know-how-to-write @iwillbeinmynest @theassetseyeliner @lilasiannerd @aubzylynn @ourpeachskies

A/N: BSB gif was made by yours truly! Yea, here we go again with more Backstreet Boys music but this song just fit this request so perfectly. I have no shame for making you listen to their music… [x] Also, I’m so, so sorry about the tiny bit of abuse that I put in here. I DO NOT condone that kind of behavior in a relationship (I have seen it happen and it scared me) I’m also sorry for Steve being a complete jerk in this…

Originally posted by jugheadcami

One hour. One grueling, heart breaking hour is all it took to make the last two years fade into the dark.

You found out from Sam’s roommate, who also happened to be one of your best friends, that your boyfriend and a few of his friends had gotten drunk at a party that Sam threw at his apartment. Even though you were also invited to the party, you had to work that night but you told Bucky that he could go without you. Worst decision you ever made.

Keep reading

New In Town Starters

“I don’t look older, I just look worse.”

“I always thought quicksand was gonna be a much bigger problem than it turned out to be”

“if you watch cartoons, quicksand is like the third biggest thing you have to worry about in adult life behind real sticks of dynamite and anvils falling on you from the sky.”

“I think I’m becoming more like my mom. I was watching Access Hollywood, and one of the reporters said ‘up next we have and exclusive interview with Sandra Bullock’s former husband, Jesse James.’ And out loud I went ‘uhg! This oughta be good!’”

“One time I was in bed and my dad came in and said ‘good night (name) did you brush your teeth?’ And I said ‘yes’ but here’s the thing… I hadn’t.”

“If the court reporter reads back my remarks you will see that I did not purger myself.”

“She would just make wild accusations all day long and wait for something to stick.”

“My mom would blame me for things that happened on the news. That is true.”

“(Name) I have been here all night! You can feel the tv, it’s warm.”

“Luckily I had a good alibi because I was in Wisconsin and twelve.”

“My brothers and sisters and I had this babysitter when we were kids and I was in love with her.”

“Why was she in charge?!”

“That’s just like hiring a slightly bigger child.”

“That would be like if you were going out of town for the week and you paid a horse to watch your dog.”

“Why do people shush animals? They’ve never spoken.”

“This is the height of luxury!”

“Lost in New York? The streets are numbered! How did you get lost in New York?”

“It’s a grid system motherfucker. Where you at? 24th and 5th? Where you wanna go? 35th and 6th? 11 up and 1 over you simple bitch.”

“When I was in grade school I was bullied for being Asian American and… the biggest problem with that… is that I am not Asian american.”

“On the first day that he met me, the guy that is now my best friend went home and said ‘papa, today I met a boy with no eyes’ and that was me.”

“Thirteen year olds are the meanest people in the world. They terrify me to this day.”

“8th graders will make fun of you but in an accurate way.”

“No! that’s the thing I’m sensitive about!”

“First off: no.”

“If you’re comparing the badness of two words and you won’t even say one of them, that’s the worse word.”

“Midgets were never enslaved! Unless you count the Wonka factory!”

“It was really easy to get away with murder before they knew about DNA.”

“Here’s how easy it was to get away with bank robbery back in the 30s: as long as you weren’t still there when the police arrived, you had a 99% chance of getting away with it.”

“Oh good it has a mind of its own, that’s very reassuring.”

“It’s 100% easier not to do things, and so much fun not to do them. Especially when you were supposed to do them.”

“In terms of like instant relief, canceling plans is like heroin.”

“I’ve never been killed by hit men, so I don’t know what it’s like in the moments right before you’re killed by hit men, but I bet it’s not unlike when you’re on the subway and you realize that a mariachi band is about to start playing.”

“It doesn’t have to be right, it just has to be short.”

“A hero is any man that does his job.”

“A bozo is any man that cheats on his wife.”

“I went into the room to get the massage and the woman there told me to undress to my comfort level. So I put on a sweater and a pair of corduroy pants, and I felt safe.”

“Hey mister! I found your treasure!”

“If I got a plate of crack for the table would you have some?”

“I have a girlfriend now myself, which is weird because I’m probably gay, based on how I act and behave and have walked and talked for 28 years.”

“I think I was supposed to be gay. I think in heaven they built like three quarters of a gay person and they forgot to flip the final switch and just sent me out.”

“Everyone get out of my way! I just wanna sit here and feed my birds.”

“You want me to do what?”

“We’ve been going pretty hot and heavy lately, I think it’s time we brought in two older catholic people.”

“I listen to everything my girlfriend says. I don’t mean she bosses me around, I just mean that before I had a girlfriend, I never had someone who was always standing next to me and could just point out obvious things that are happening.”

“I don’t look like someone who used to do anything.”

“Oh hey, (name), would you like an old turnip we found in a cabinet? Would that be good for you? Would you like that? I know you don’t drink!”

“I’m really sorry about last night, I was just so drunk.”

“I’m really sorry about last night, it’s just that I’m mean and loud. It probably will happen again.”

“I don’t drink anymore because I used to drink too much and I would black out and ‘ruin parties’ –or so I’m told.”

“ I was 20 and I was at a party at someone’s house and I blacked out drinking and someone came out of one of the rooms at this party holding an old antique bottle with some liquid in it and they said ‘hey, is this whiskey or perfume?’ And apparently I grabbed it, drank all of it and said ‘it’s perfume.’ And it was.”

“(name) was an asshole and one weekend he and his wife decided to leave town, which you should never do if you’re an asshole.”

“Okay, lets go over there and destroy the place.”

“I walked into this party, everyone I had ever met was there and everyone was drinking like it was the end of the world.”

“People were drinking like it was the civil war and a doctor was coming to saw our legs off.”

“They had a pool table in the basement, one kid got a running start and threw his body onto the pool table and broke it in half.”

“I’m standing in the basement and I’m holding a red cup - you’ve seen movies - and I’m starting to black out. And I guess someone said like ‘something something police’ and in a brilliant moment of word association, I shouted ‘FUCK DUH POLICE’ and everyone else joined in. A hundred white, drunk children yelling ‘fuck. duh. police’ with the confidence of guys that have like already been to jail and aren’t afraid of it anymore.”

“My friend – who is now a father, this man now has a baby – grabbed a 40, smashed it on the ground and yelled ‘SCATTER!’ And everyone ran in different directions.”

“I ran into the laundry room and hopped up onto the washing machine and climbed out a window into the back yard and I’m running through the back yard and there’s this huge chain link fence and I thought ‘I have never climbed a fence that high before!’ And then I woke up and home.“

“And I said ‘no’ you know, like a liar.”

“And I had that thought, that only black out drunks and Steve Urkel can have: did I do that? I figured no, I wouldn’t have done that, but I was never sure.”

“he takes me into his bedroom and then he takes me into a side room off of his bedroom- never a good thing to have.”

“WHY? WHY DO YOU DO THIS?”

“Because it’s the one thing you can’t replace.”

“That’s the end of that story but how fucked up is that?”

“I was going into my building late at night and in front of my building I saw a wheel chair knocked over on its side, with no one in it. That’s a bad thing to see. Something happened there, you hope it was a miracle, but probably not.”

“That wasn’t what I was telling you, but alright, let’s talk about this entirely new topic.”

“Excuse me, I am homeless, I am gay, I have AIDS and I’m new in town.”

“That is not the most dramatic thing that you just said.”

“Hey would you help me out? I’m very gay, I’d like a few dollars.”

“Yeah that’s the type of lowbrow shit I’m looking for.”