love story 4

My favourite thing about the Sana x Yousef romance storyline right now is how innocent yet intimate it is. I mean their entire ship is literally based on a one-sided text message, two short irl conversations, and a bunch of stolen glances and smiles. And that’s just it. It feels so familiar. (Whether or not they’re endgame), what they are right now is just so important as it is. Sana changes the song on the radio because it feels too inappropriate, Yousef wants to show Sana how to peel the freaking carrots but is reluctant to actually touch her (even though he could have easily done that whole guy-holds-girl’s-hands-to-guide-her), there’s no pressure to immediately start making out with the other person or attempt at anything beyond these sweet stolen conversations about kids and carrots. The most intimate they get is when Yousef passes the knife and carrot to Sana and it sounds lame ik, but it’s also so wholesome to me, it’s real and it’s human and it’s so so beautiful.

Murdoc: “That’s it! I’m tired of you two squabbling like children! We’ve got a photoshoot to pose for, so you had better make up right this second!”
Noodle: “But he started it!”
Murdoc: “Oh yeah? Well I’m gonna end it! Hug and make up!”
2D: *laughing* “This is bloomin’ ridiculous! We’re adults, you can’t just–”
Murdoc: “Now!”
Noodle:

“Is Bruce in here?” Tim figured he might be— Bruce spent a lot of time in the children’s wing of Wayne Enterprises. There were a dozen or so kids in daycare most weekdays, and Bruce liked to hang out.

Tim liked to hang out too. They had nice snacks, and he’d known most of the kids since they were toddlers. And sometimes naps were mandatory.

“Conference call,” Damian told him. (For someone who claimed to hate naps, snackfood, kids, and humanity in general, Damian also spent a lot of time in the children’s wing.) “I don’t know where.” 

He went back to what he was doing, which was arranging a set of pewter soldiers into a complex model of a battlefield, presumably for the benefit of the preschooler sitting next to him. 

“What’s this?”

“The Battle of Issus, 333 BC.”

“Right, obviously.” Tim decided he was curious, so he settled down on the mats to watch.  Damian finished his model; he pulled a marker from the art table and used it as a pointer. 

“Okay. This is the Macedonian army, outnumbered but in the better tactical position, south of the Pinarus River. Their leader is Alexander the Great. And this—” He pointed to his enemy line. “—is the Achaemenid Empire. They’re about to lose.”

Damian tapped his marker on the Macedonian right. “This is the companion calvary, Alexander’s elite force, and they—” he cut off when he noticed his pupil digging in the toy bin, clearly distracted. The kid came up with a battered Transformer, which he set behind Damian’s lines. 

“Elliot. Alexander did not have robots.”

“But,” said Tim, rummaging through the box himself, “did he have wizards?” He pulled a bearded magician out of the tub and held it up for Damian to see. 

“You know he didn’t.”

Tim passed the wizard to Elliot. “But what if he did?”

“Drake.”

“How would that go?”

Drake.”

“Abracadabra, Alexander!” Elliot yelled, gleefully smashing through Damian’s entire left flank.

“Damn it, Drake.” Damian sighed in frustration— not quite the rise Tim was hoping for, but still something. He dropped Elliot’s discarded robot back into the box.

“I don’t know what you were expecting,” Tim told him. “Elliot’s four. He’s too young for— what is this— military history?”

“He was doing fine before you showed up.” Damian started to re-erect his soldiers, but he gave it up after Elliot came in for a second pass. “Which is typical, isn’t it?”

“Good one.”

“Thank you.” Damian crossed his arms. “Fine. I’ll bite. When is he supposed to learn this kind of thing?”

“High school? Maybe never.”

“That can’t be right.”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

“Frequently.” Damian rolled his eyes. “I’m getting a second opinion.”

“I’ll wait.”

Damian checked the room for potential allies. “Thomas?” he called over his shoulder, “You learned military strategy as a kid, right?”

Duke looked up from the book he was reading to a pair of kindergardeners. “Just you, man.”

“Told you.” Tim fished a bag of plastic ninja from the toy box and arranged them pointedly into a row. “How are you still surprised by this kind of thing?”

Damian glared at him. “Okay, first of all? I’m not a— hold on a second. Elliot!”

Elliot froze with a large, plastic dinosaur held aloft over the battlefield. He drew it sheepishly back to his chest. “Sorry.”

“Not in the calvary wing,” Damian told him. “You’ll scare the horses.”

“Here?” Elliot pointed to the front of the phalanx.

“Yes.”

“RAWR.”

“Aim for his center.” Damian turned back to Tim. “Anyway. Why are you still talking to me? I thought we had an agreement about unnecessary contact.”

Keep reading

Boys like him don’t come wrapped in pretty packages with bows and ribbons-
Boys like him come in sleepless eyes and bruised knuckles.

They see girls like you, with wide eyes and soft lips-
And crave for that vulnerability.
So they wear a smile that’s almost too bright and hold your hand almost too hard,
And they love.

They love you until your heart bleeds and your eyes sting, they love you until you’re too blinded by the daggar they’re twisting into your ribcage.

Girls like you though, they believe that they can kiss their knuckles until they’re healed. So they wait around for boys like him to grow up.

But boys like him don’t grow up, they drain-

and it works every time with girls like you.

—  Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #108
2

Marjorie is a District Manager in the business game. She fell in love with Sunday the moment she saw her big tuff of blonde hair from her office window. Sunday was assigned as her new assistant, and kept her feels under wraps for a long time, until one day Sunday brought Marjorie her morning coffee and reports, inside was a little heart shaped sticky note  reading “Thank you being such a great boss,  but I want to assist you in other ways.” They’ve been smitten ever since, and had a child named Thorton. Sunday is still Marjorie’s assistant, but she likes it, and Marjorie’s leadship.

Remember that Berk had those treaty meetings with the Berserkers in Riders of Berk.

Imagine what those will be like in future years, when Hiccup is Chief and so are Dagur and Heather. 

I can totally just picture Hiccup embracing both and calling them “Brother” and “Sister” and Astrid and Heather doing their arm thing.

bellarke is the embodiment of the phrase ‘if you can’t tell a love story without a kiss, you’re not telling a good love story’
we don’t need a kiss to know there’s love there

8

Family Reunion : Holbrook Edition! 📷

From left to right: Erin Holbrook, Riya Chandra, Blanche Holbrook, Marley Holbrook, Lawrence Holbrook, Viola Holbrook, Evan Bellevue.