loud commercials

Married with Benefits (Part 10)

Summary: In order to not pay out-of-state tuition, you ask your friend, Steve Rogers, to marry you. Things, as always, never go as planned. (College AU)

Word Count: 930

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

A/N: Here is my inbox for you to scream into. :)

Originally posted by whatwasdead


The next day, Steve had to go to work and you asked him if he could drop you off at campus, wanting to explore more of what your future school offered. He said goodbye with a kiss to your cheek and you tried not to let your thoughts dwell on it too much as you walked around the nearly-empty buildings of the large university.

The next few days were filled with applications you had to fill out, make sure you had the right schedule, and even looking for a job to pass the time and get a little money from whilst you were studying in the city. Steve didn’t bring up kissing again and you inwardly denied that it disappointed you.

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lesbianinfinite  asked:

OOO! Could you write Sonic discovering Shadow's sweet spot on his ear?

Sonic knew Shadow wasn’t in top form.

He’d called two hours ago, said he’d been on a mission for the last two weeks and wanted a date night, and then showed up with a bottle of wine and bags under his eyes. 

Now they were curled up on the couch, Shadow hissing quietly whenever a particularly loud commercial came on tv.

“You okay, Shads?” Sonic dangled a piece of popcorn over Shadow’s mouth, and let out an undignified yelp when he jerked his head up to bite it. “Geez, jaws, don’t take my hand off.”

“I’m fine.”

“Something happen, or are you just tired? I know you’re, like, emotionally constipated or whatever, but I can probably help.”

“Tired’s’all.” Shadow said, letting his head rest between Sonic’s legs, and Sonic took that as an invitation to rub it. 

Shadow didn’t react much until Sonic’s finger tweaked his left ear, getting a small tail wag. “Oh, like that?”

“Mnn.” Shadow mumbled, and Sonic let his fingers trail down to the base of it, where there was a small indent. Pressing down gently, Shadow’s body went limp and he nearly purred. 

“Ooh, looks like grumpy’s got a secret button.” Sonic grinned, “Jackpot.” He let his fingers roam to twist into Shadow’s chest fur and poke his cheeks, but it was playing with his ears that repeated the purr that vibrated through Sonic’s body.

“Mmnn…” Shadow curled up slightly. “D’n use it for evil, Sonic.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Sonic’s own ear flicked as he leaned down to nuzzle his nose to Shadow’s. “Unless I really want to.”

“Sonic…”

“Kidding, kidding.” 

Amanda was sitting on the couch watching Long Haul Paranormal Ice Road Ghost Truckers. Dad was usually home by then to watch it with her but he was out hanging with Mr. Vampire. Still.

Just as the episode was winding to an end, the motion detecting lights in front of the house flicked on. Through the crack in the window that was Definitely Not Her Fault, she could hear her dad laugh.

Without hesitating, she jumped up and ran to the window. Lifting the curtain just slightly, she peered outside. They were holding hands! Lucien owed her five bucks! It was an old bet, but maybe he’d honor it…

She can’t hear well enough what they were saying, just a word or two. “I’m very happy…” “Letters…” Damien pulls dad into a kiss, Amanda flinches.
Nobody wants to see their parent kissing anyone. Ugh…

Distracted by the thought, she misses her chance to actually look like she wasn’t spying. Dad’s already through the door as Amanda dropped onto the couch, trying to look casual.

“Hello father. I was sitting here. On the couch. This entire time. Watching TV.” Dad looks at her with one eyebrow raised.

“Why is the TV muted?” He asks suspiciously.

“Loud commercials. Guess I’m more like my old man than I thought.”
Dad shakes his head and shuffles over, Amanda sits up to make room on the couch and scrutinizes her dad’s face. There’s a pink tinge to his cheeks and a smile on his face. There’s also dog hair on his shirt.

“So…” she starts, “Are you guys, like…” he looks over at her, a slight crease in his forehead usually reserved for difficult word jumbles. The little smile is fading and he looks almost worried. “Starting a vampire coven together?”

He smiles again, but the crease doesn’t go away. “Oh, plot twist.” he says, “Mothman. Damien’s actually Mothman. I didn’t see it coming either.”

"Genius…” she whispers as dad kicks his feet up on the coffee table. He looks back over at her, the same worried expression on his face. “Well, whatever’s happening, I’m really glad you two are happy.” She shifts on the couch and rests her cheek on his shoulder, settling in for some late night dumb shows. “You deserve it, dad.”

She can’t see it but she knows the crease is gone, he giggles. “Aw, shucks.”

Drunken night

Harry grabs his keys, phone and jacket, quickly pulling on his boots. He storms out, ignoring your words completely. You sigh, feeling somewhat guilty. You sit down on the couch and turn on the TV in hope of distracting your brain from overthinking everything . Burying your face in the palms of your hands, you let the random conversations that the two characters had in the program calm yourself down. He had all the rights to be mad at you, but then he should have trusted you. Maybe that’s what you two lacked. Trust. It’s complicated and frustrating every time you try to wrap your head around the topic of your argument. Harry knew him and yet today he told you off for talking to your guy friend in a friendly way. Maybe it wasn’t exactly friendly, he did flirt with you and you did in some ways, flirted back. But friends have moments like that sometimes, the problem is that Harry should have had faith in you, right? And slowly, you drift off.

The loud music wakes you up. You must have overslept because they only play loud commercials at 11pm. Yes, you were right. It is 11:01. You glance at the door. No traces of his boots. He is not home which worries you because Harry has never been one to go out on a Wednesday. Plus, he doesn’t like to get home at this kind of hours. He said it was too dark for his likings. So you decide to stay up and wait for him, even if it takes you all night.
An hour went by. It’s one minute past midnight and you are still up. Longing for his presence. You have to admit that you hated when the two of you fought. Especially this time. Normally, one of you would apologize and you made up easily, but no, not this time. This time, Harry left. Maybe he couldn’t stand you anymore.-you thought. Maybe he’s bored of you. These thoughts scare you. You realize that his reactions was reasonable, he did it out of his love for you, he loves you and is willing to go any miles to get to you or is willing to do whatever to protect you. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t even admit that you were wrong for flirting with a friend and you blamed Harry for getting angry. You stand up and grab your phone near by. You try to call him. But no one answers. What could he possibly be doing right now? Anything,Y/N. Anything-you tell yourself.
CLINK. CLINK.
Your head snaps automatically as the noise grows louder. Your gaze shifts to the door. A familiar noise of keys inserted into the locks makes you walk towards them.
‘Oh, Y/N! You are up!?’ Niall gulps, prompting Harry up straight.
‘Yeah, what’s wrong? Oh, Harry. What has he done to himself?’ You let Harry’s arms wrap around your neck.
'He was at the bar and I think he had had a couple rounds of drinks before he called me. So I came, and we had another couple of rounds and he just started to ramble about missing you and stuff so I took him home.’
'Thanks Nialler. You’re the best.’
'No problem, anytime.’
’ do you want to maybe stay with us tonight? You look tired.’
'Thanks Y/N but I have to get going. Well, good luck with him. See ya soon.’ Niall nods.
You close the door. Having a hard time balancing his weight that is currently resting on your shoulders, you lead him to the bed. He lands on it with a thump.
’M'head hurts.'he groans, clutching his head.
'Of course it hurts. Please wait here. I’ll go get the water.’
'Nooooo’ he protests with his eyes shut.’ I need you.’
'Harry, let me help you. Okay? You need to get some water inside of that stomach.’
'I need you…’
You look at him and he is a mess. His hair is poking in every directions and his cheeks are red from all the alcohol.
'Fine. But first let me get you out of this.'You sit down near his legs and pull his shoes off. Moving on to his belts, you unbuckle them and slide his dark jeans down with ease.
’M sorry,love.’ He says quietly.
'Why?'You unbutton his shirt and peel it off.
'For not believing yeh.’ He confesses as you adjust the covers and tuck both you and him in.
'No need to apologize it’s my fault as well. I also overreacted.’ You turn off the lights
'You know I love yeh right? Means everything t'me. I was so scared earlier. Thought I lost yeh t'him. Thought yeh gonna leave me for him.’
'Is this the alcohol talking?'You joke
'This is Harry talking.’ He assures, wrapping his arms around you.
'How am I supposed to know for sure?’
'Because when it comes to you I am always honest. I never lie to you. Even if I did, you would be able to notice easily. I never hide my feelings for you. We know that. Look I’m sorry for not trusting yeh and for storming off tonight.’
'I love you too, H. I’m sorry as well. I shouldn’t have flirted back to my friend. Now please can we have this conversation later? You are clearly tired.’
'Never tired of you.’ He buries his head in the crook of your neck.

“Stoplight”

Summary: You meet someone at a red light

Characters: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Fluff!

358 Words


gif made by @frozen-delight (I couldn’t find it in the search)


You roll your windows down and put on your favorite pair of sunglasses, glad to be able to enjoy a bright, clear sky. The week had been rainy or cloudy or both, and today the sun had finally come out. 

You turn on the radio, immediately changing the station at hearing at hearing obnoxiously loud commercials. Finally, you find the only station that you’re able to rely on. 

“Welcome back to 94.9, the home of classic rock, where we’ll be playing your favorites non-stop for the next hour.” The radio announcer’s voice fades away. You rock your head to the beat as the music fades in, your mind racing to recognize the song before the lyrics start.

You grin as you recognize the song, shaking your head at the fact that it took you more than a couple seconds to remember the tune. You put the volume up, blasting Eye of the Tiger, as you sing along and dance as much as you can in your seat.

You reach a stop light, and with your foot on the brakes, you take your hands off the wheel, making exaggerated hand gestures to match the lyrics. A black chevy pulls up next to you with the same radio station on. 

The driver, a very attractive man in a jacket sings along as well until what he thinks is an echo grabs his attention. The echo turning out to be you in the car in the next lane. He rests an arm on the rolled down window, keeping one hand on the wheel as he grins at seeing you belt out the lyrics to a classic rock song.

You notice the man staring at you, and you flash him a mischievous grin and raise a brow, challenging him. He raises an eyebrow back at you, obviously impressed and excited to show off what his baby can do. 

As soon as the light turns green you and the stranger press on the gas, both of your engines roaring as the two of you race on the otherwise empty road, songs from the classic rock station echoing in the air.

Mothers are special, their maternal instincts persist even in their deep sub-conscious state. My mother was sound asleep on the couch since the past 30 mins while the TV was on. She didn’t respond to her loud phone ringing next to her. While she continued sleeping, a loud commercial played on TV where a little girl yelled “mummy” and my mom responded with an instant “hmm” in her sleep. I think that’s special. That’s very special. SubhanAllah!
—  Afreen Razvi (An excerpt from my personal diary)
“Mood Lighting”

A Pinecest one-shot for my wonderful valentine, @handleonthescandal ! Happy Valentine’s Day, Handy, have some OTP from your OTP.

Mabel Pines had always been a romantic at heart. After a lifetime of dreaming of her Prince Charming, she’s beginning to find High School dating disheartening. But when he turns up somewhere unexpected, she has to adjust to dreams looking a little different when they come true. 

Pinecest, 5,736 words. Pretty SFW. Tw incest. Tw cuteness ahead.

Fic under the cut, enjoy!

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Early Monday Mornings (Pyro x Reader)

   It was 4 am. The streets of London were empty; a rare occurrence. The living room was illuminated by a soft blue glow from the old sitcom playing quietly on the television. Empty bowls of cereal surrounded by little kernels of popcorn litter the coffee table. Niall’s deep breathing bounces off the walls and almost completely muffles the show that you’re not interested in. Your gaze turns to him and you giggle at his tired state. Strands of strawberry blonde hair scatter across his face and his cheeks are mushed together because of the pillows. His legs lay across your lap and yours rest on the coffee table. Unexpectedly, a loud commercial appears, pulling Niall out of his sleep. He jumps slightly at the sound and his eyes squint from the bright white light.

 He curses under his breath and you laugh softly before tapping his leg, “Hey, lets go to bed, yeah?” Niall simply grumbles more and you shake him a little harder. “Niall, come on. We have things to do tomorrow. Get up, you lazy cunt.” 

This makes him sit up, but instead of standing he grabs your waist and pulls you down beside him. “You don’t have to be rude about it,” he says tiredly. You squirm and try to get out of his grip, but in reality, you really didn’t want to leave. You sigh loudly and allow your body to grow heavy, falling asleep to the sound of cheesy comedic laughter and the scent of Niall. 

youtube

Tennent’s Lager: Too Loud (2011)

The commercial of Tennent’s Lager. Sam Heughan plays Hugh Tennent and Tim Downie plays his butler.

Part 5 of 7

yours remotefully

∟ jungkook ∞ reader 

genre: fluff ! college[dorm] au. 

word count: 2.29K

a/n: a little something for the new year !! 

Originally posted by aestheticvbts

It’s that time of year again.

Everyone on campus, including all of his dormmates had packed up and shuffled out the building with small goodbyes (and a peck on the head from Taehyung), left for their hometowns to spend time with their families and friends in view of the upcoming new year. For the third year in a row but feeling like too many times, it’s just Jungkook in his dorm again, lying off centre on his single bed, a leg dangling off the edge as he stares holes into the whitewashed ceiling. He sighs and rolls over in his bed once, twice. For someone who enjoys his moments alone in peace, he thinks he’s starting to probably miss the constant racket in the unit from Taehyung and Hoseok, mixed in with Yoongi’s complaints (why the fuck are all of you in here, go back to your assigned rooms you noisy fucks) and Namjoon’s occasional destruction of useful inanimate objects and Seokjin’s sigh that follows –

Okay, so he misses it. 

And it’s only been a day.

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MY ideal relationship is for partner to invent a virtual reality machine that lets u see into the future then finds out they will never achieve their lifelong dream and gets depressed and then goes to a job counselor and gets told they should become a ski instructor meanwhile ur goofy neighbor comes to tell you this news and gives u a consolation yam in the shape of your partner’s head and you and yam see into the future and find out your partner dies from reciting a gum commercial too loud and starting an avalanche so you find them and tell them they will die and they say the future can’t be changed but you take them and scurry up a tree with yulr little mousey paws and you both survive and go home and look in the future again and the yam takes over the world

anonymous asked:

How do you think would Feuilly and Bossuey get engaged. was it an accident? Maybe it just slipped out and they were like "oh. Actually, why not?"

My suggestion:

Bahorel and Feuilly are living together.  To be fair, they’ve been living with each other since well before they officially started… doing what they’re doing.  (It’s dating, everyone under the sun knows they’re dating, they’re disgustingly sweet and in love with each other but they tend to describe as a “eh [shrug] y’know”. They’re romantically and sexually monogamous bros.)  But they’ve definitely been living with each other for a few years now with no sign of either wanting to do anything differently.  They know each other’s schedule, they know how to prepare the other’s coffee in the morning, they know how to tell when the other is stressed even if they’re being stubborn and not admitting to it (cough cough, Feuilly), they even have a perfect chore system. (Feuilly hates cooking but he likes doing dishes in the evening because he finds warm soapy water soothing, and Bahorel doesn’t mind cooking so long as Feuilly doesn’t complain about what he makes.  Feuilly will vaccuum on weekends while watching TV and is good at budgeting and shopping, and Bahorel will do laundry while dancing around in his underwear singing to the radio.  If one or the other has had a busy week the other will pick up the slack… or they both acknowledge not to bitch if they both give up on chores and live in squalor for a while.)

So they have a pretty comfortable co-existence at the moment.  No major fights lately, nothing shocking, just comfortable, happy love – in so much as anything can just be comfortable when it’s intertwined with the lives of the Amis.  And then It happens.  It’s a night in the middle of the exam season so they’re both basically dead human beings at the moment; it’s like two in the morning because they’ve lost control of their lives and they’re half asleep on each other’s shoulder on the couch while the TV goes into its second hour of a TLC marathon.  Soon-to-be brides fill the screen, with their laces and cakes and unnecessary reality TV drama.

Bahorel snorts to himself, jostling Feuilly just enough that he blinks awake from his half-dozing state to see the current bride crying about… eyeshadow? whiile the groom grouses to the camera.  Also, presumably, about eyeshadow.  Why was eyeshadow such an emotional experience?

“We’d make a way better couple,” Bahorel mutters, mostly to himself.

“Mmhm,” Feuilly agrees.

“Seriously, you’d be a way better groom than that asshole.  And you’d look damn fine in a tux.”

“Would I be able to get you into a tux?” Feuilly asks, curling up closer to Bahorel’s side, tucking himself under his arm.

“Well, for a couple minutes at least,” Bahorel allows.  “Like, five.  For the ceremony.  Ten if you let me tear the arms off.”

Feuilly chuckles, and watches absently as the bride’s mother started yelling at the catering staff.

“Our friends would make it fantastic,” Feuilly agrees.  “We could get Courf to make the music playlist.  Cosette would help decorate.  Grantaire would pretend to hate it but be making moon eyes at Enjolras the whole time as if he would ever pick up on anything that subtle.”

“I could kiss you in front of everyone.”

“What, do you not do that enough already?”

“Probably not.  Enjolras hasn’t given us a Look in at least a week for inappropriate make-outs.  We should probably step up our game.  But come on, are you saying you don’t want some old dude to say ‘you may now kiss the groom’ and get to make-out in a church in fancy suits?”

Feuilly hummed appreciatively and the two fell quiet again long enough for the show to finish, panning over some beautiful shots of the wedding venue and showing the bride’s happy, teary face as she held her new husband’s hand.

“You serious?” Feuilly asked then.

“What?” asked Bahorel, jerking a bit, head bobbing up again.

“Do you actually want to get married?”

“I… oh.”  Bahorel stared blankly out as a loud, obnoxious commercial took over the screen.  “Yeah.  Do you?”

“Yeah,” said Feuilly breathlessly.

“Oh,” said Bahorel again, this time shifting a bit so he could see Feuilly better.  Feuilly’s hair was a mess of slept on curls, with shadows around his eyes and a rumbled, dirty shirt from the previous day.  He was beautiful.  “Did I just propose with TLC?”

“Yeah,” said Feuilly, with a laugh.  “But I’ll forgive you if you wear a suit.”

-

(you may also enjoy this post which is a different ask about a Bahorel/Feuilly engagement and wedding)