no one will explain it to me

Levi Ackerman: The Abuse Claim

Alright, so here I am with another long ass meta post. Only this time, this one is directed solely at the legend, Levi Ackerman himself. Yet again, I am seeing the “Levi is Abusive” mumbo jumbo and I have spent my two years in this fandom quiet about my opinions on this for the most part because I do not enjoy drama. However, after this last batch of Discourse™ that I have seen, I have been pushed beyond my ability to bite my tongue. 

This is Part One to a two part meta, and this is me basically trying to shine light on Levi’s actions a bit and why he behaves the way he does. In no way do I try to justify all of the shit he carries out so don’t think this is just a fangirl squeal post. I’m simply trying to better explain his character for the people who seem to think he is some kind of rage beast who beats kids for fun in his spare time. 

I will be putting this under a Read More because it is extremely long and also contains spoilers. I’d also like to state that this would be best read from a computer or the mobile website as it contains a metric fuckton of manga panels used for reference (seriously use any other means outside of the mobile app to read this because the app will butcher this post and cut out a majority of the images). If you are sitting down to read this, please make sure you are comfy, cozy, and drinking a nice warm beverage. Now then, 

DISCLAIMER: This is my personal opinion. In no way am I stating what I say here is completely accurate. if you disagree with my opinion, good for you! That’s your prerogative. However, If you are going to send me messages trying to argue points of view with me or send me hate messages because my opinion differs from your own; do us both a favor and just don’t even bother. WARNING: Major spoilers ahead.

First and foremost, this is the scene I see brought up the absolute most so I’d like to go ahead and address it first:

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Long Suffering Boyfriend: 101 Bulldogs

It’s often said that nobody other than other veterinarians know what we truly go through. This isn’t helped by the fact that we’re often barred from discussing our work in civilized company and so we often don’t talk about these things, even with our nearest and dearest.

As a recent graduate I had explained to my dear Long Suffering Boyfriend (LSB) that my days at work were busy, hectic and fast. The message he absorbed from these descriptions was that I sometimes didn’t manage to eat lunch until 4pm. So he decided one day that he was going to be Best BoyfriendTM and bring me lunch at the clinic. A gourmet sandwich he’d made himself. He was going to show up right on 1pm and make me stop work for five minutes to eat this delicious food, and make all the other staff members insanely jealous.

At least, that was his cunning plan.

When he walked through the staff entrance into the back of the clinic, he was not greeted with adoration and delight. 

He was greeted by a stern veterinary nurse with all the attitude of an army sergeant.

“Excellent. You! Take this!” she commanded, whisking my future lunch onto the bench and thrusting a towel into my LSB’s hands. Before he knew what was happening, he was dragged into the surgical suite.

“Here honey, catch!” I greeted him, not bothering to question his unexpected appearance and plopping a fresh bulldog puppy into his hands, still coated in amniotic membranes, before I returned to retrieving its siblings from the caesarean in front of me.

He would go on to describe the subsequent events as “Like 101 Dalmatians but with newborn bulldog puppies!”

He was swiftly educated in puppy resuscitation, learning how to rub them to stimulate breathing and how to make a makeshift oxygen crib out of a rectal glove.

The puppies just kept coming and coming. Twelve bulldog puppies revived by my two nurses and LSB. That uterus was more packed than a clown car. Let me tell you there is an art to stimulating four newborn puppies at a time to breathe properly. There were puppies everywhere, on tables and the counter. The sandwich was swiftly moved as more bench space was required.

While everyone was glad to see him, this was not the outcome he had been expecting when he walked into the clinic.

He did, however, refuse to leave the clinic until I’d eaten at least one bite.

I asked him what the one stand out lesson from the experience was. He said that “they’re weird and gross but it’s strange how quickly they go to cute and snuggly fuzzles as soon as they’re dry”. Also that bringing me lunch was appreciated, but pointnless.

I think he enjoyed it, really.

10 AUs

1. “We have the same favorite book, and we always check it out from the library. We’ve never met, but the librarians are starting to ship us, and are coming up with ridiculous excuses for us to meet.”

2. “My dog absolutely adores you, and you absolutely adore my dog. Whenever we see each other, the two of you play for a good half-hour, at least. That’s great and all, but what’s your name?”

3. “I was planning on proposing to the person I was dating, but then, I found out they were cheating on me. They don’t know I know, and you suggest I go ahead and go through with it, with a slight twist: I propose to YOU, instead.”

4. “We’re both shopping for the same obscure item. This is the fifth store I’ve seen you at… Want to join forces?”

5. “I’m an actor, and part of my costume is a wedding ring, but I totally forgot I was wearing it. Now you’re yelling at me for flirting with you, and I have no clue how to get a word in edgewise to explain.”

6. “There’s only one bag of my favorite candy left, and you’re about to put it in your cart. Please don’t, seriously. I’ve had an awful week, and I need my candy fix.”

7. “I’ve never actually met the person my sibling is going to marry, but you’re always there at the wedding planning, so I just assumed it was you. But now you’re asking me out? And you’re actually the future spouse’s best friend? Oh, wow, I was not expecting that.”

8. “If you hug me, I will stab you-Oh, my gosh. You aren’t my best friend, you’re a stranger, and you look slightly terrified of me now. Please don’t call the police, I’m not actually going to stab anyone.”

9. “I passed out in a public place, and you sat with me for several hours to make sure no one harassed me? That is both sweet and strange.”

10. “We’re neighbors, and you always hear me screaming about my cooking disasters, and swoop in to save me. I probably should start paying you, honestly.”

When my roommate was Taken and Replaced, there were a lot of things I was prepared for (things like sleeping with iron on, keeping salt under my pillow, constantly being on guard, and never taking food from her), but explaining memes to her was not one.

I was in our room studying, just trying to cram for one of the classes we have an excess of tests in, when Not Vex looked right at me and asked, “Why are so many people talking about the friends we made along the way? It doesn’t even make any sense. Today at lunch, Binks said ‘maybe the real final exam was the friends we made along the way’ while we were studying. It just-it makes no sense.”

It took me longer than was probably polite to answer, because how the hell are you supposed to answer when one of Them asks why a meme exists? I did have to answer eventually, though.

“It’s called a meme. It’s things that start on the internet that people find funny, and they usually don’t make sense, and they start getting used in different ways. The one you were talking about started to make fun of something that’s in a lot of movies, where they search for treasure or a prize or something and don’t find it, and someone says something about the real prize being the friends they made along the way. People love making fun of overdone tropes, so it got really big and now people use it in a lot of ways and some of them make no sense, like the one Binks used,” I told Not Vex, hoping my explanation was enough and I could get back to my studying.

She seemed satisfied, and I thought that was the end of it.

If only I could be so lucky.

Now, anytime there’s a new one, she’ll make it a point to tap me on the shoulder and ask “Is that one of those meme things you told me about?”

Vex was never very quiet, and Not Vex isn’t either. Now everyone knows I am on good enough terms with Them to talk to my Gentry roommate about memes and I have no idea what to do with that kind of power.


Wanna know one thing I always thought was super fucking cool about Peridot’s design?

This has probably been stated before, but, in it’s own way, Peridot’s design is like a fusion of Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl’s designs.

Just let me explain…similarly to Garnet, Peridot has shapely hair, a curvy body, and eyewear that covers up a good half of her face. She also has colored toes on her uniform, such as Garnet does with her bodysuit.

Similarly to Pearl, Peridot typically has a long, narrow face with pointed features, as well as a slender build. Like Pearl’s star on her dress, the diamond insignia of Peridot’s uniform is placed on her chest. Another thing to note is that with her limb enhancers, Peridot’s height is equal to Pearl’s.

Similarly to Amethyst, Peridot is short in stature. Her mouth can often form into a loose W shape, like Amethyst’s mouth is typically shaped as. Peridot and Amethyst’s outfits both have sleeveless torsos that expose the neck and half of the chest on their bodies. Another thing to note is that another placing of Peridot’s diamond insignia is on the knees of her uniform, which is where Amethyst places the stars on her outfit.

Like…that is so clever. Peridot’s design is so cool and clever.

A Ghost Can't Hurt the Living

There are a lot of misconceptions about ghosts. It’s mostly thanks to Hollywood; if you watch enough movies, they’ll have you checking over your shoulder for vengeful spirits waiting to snap your neck or drag you to hell or whatever chintzy bullshit gets churned out that Halloween.

The truth is that Ghosts can’t ever hurt the living. Hell, they can’t even touch us. You can trust me on this; old Peter Menaker has been following me around for about fifteen years now, and he’s never laid a hand on me. He’s made it abundantly clear the handful of times he’s actually said a word to me. Mostly though, he just follows me around, drifting in and out of my life with the occasional reminder that he’s there.

That’s all a Ghost can do to you, actually. Just lurk around the corners of your eye, occasionally stepping to the forefront of your vision before disappearing back into the shadows. No one else is ever able to see or hear them, so eventually you just learn to live with it. That’s what I’ve done, at least. I’ve gotten older, landed my dream job, found a wife who loves me, and I’ve even had a son last year. It’s amazing how it’s all worked out, really. I’m a world away from where I was that night when I was seventeen, driving back from my teammates house after a few too many drinks and I heard that sickening thump as I cut a corner a bit too hard. I slammed the brakes and rushed out my car, and that’s when I saw Mr. Menaker sprawled out there in the middle of the road, legs pointing the wrong way and blood seeping out of his mouth. He sputtered something about calling an ambulance, but just looking at him I was sure he wouldn’t make it before they arrived; I guess I was right, but I didn’t stick around to find out.

Obviously, I’m not proud of that night. There isn’t a single day I don’t regret it, and don’t hate myself for what I did. But like I said, I’ve grown since then. I’ve become a new person; a better person. I wish I could change the past, but since I can’t, what good does living in it do anyone?

That’s what I tell myself, at least. And Peter too, though it’s never done me any good. I’ve tried to explain myself to him as often as I can, but it’s never made an ounce of difference to him. He always just stands there, silent, resolute, and waiting.

A Ghost can never hurt the living. But no one lives forever, and a Ghost is nothing if not patient.

caligypsy6  asked:

Ok, I have asked you before why you don't have Twitter and I understand your reasoning of character limitations... However, why not create one just to see all the nice things we are saying about you and so we can tag you in them?!? You make an adorable Logan, btw. JS. ❤

Oh yeah, that answer was kind of a joke– I purposefully typed a 140 character response explaining that 140 characters is too limiting (it was like a self-aware blunder, but nobody really got it). The truth is that I tried twitter and it wasn’t for me. I’m iffy on social media altogether. The people that have kind things to say, and that want to interact with me are really great– but social media requires a lot of upkeep, and it’s very performative; I don’t like performing constantly in that way. I’m super up for YouTube, but I don’t quite have a fully formed vision yet, and I’d want to do it right.

I sometimes fantasize about deleting my Instagram and Tumblr, but I don’t really think that’s a good idea right now.

I really do appreciate the people though. You guys are great, and I don’t even know how to react to some of the kind things that you have to say. I feel like I haven’t earned it yet, in a way. There’s a lot that I want to create and put out there, but there’s a long road ahead of me. Working with Thomas is pretty fulfilling though– we’re planning some really, really exciting stuff for SS. That’s the work that’s helping me keep things together right now, tbh.

If people have something that they want to say to me, they might be able to reach me here or on IG (@welcome_to_the_joangle). Thanks.

anonymous asked:


1. “Oh my God. You’re in love with her.”

a/n: whoop whoop some college shawn comin @ ya

“So, uh, what’s been going on with you and Y/n?” Brian asks Shawn from across the pingpong table. The boys were never ones to get deep or gush like girls, but after the way Shawn had been attached at the him to you lately, someone had to ask him about it. 

“Nothin’ man, she’s just really cool and funny.” Shawn brushes off, smacking the ball back to Brian, but missing the table completely. 

“Yeah, okay. Whatever you say, man.” Brian teases. 

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Tell Me It’s Okay

Title: Tell Me It’s Okay

Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader

Word Count: 900

Warnings: None – Fluff

Summary: Dean comes back from a long hunt, and expresses his worries to Reader.  

A/N: This imagine is dedicated to the anon that requested it. I hope this is what you wanted. If not, please let me know and I’ll rewrite the whole thing for you. Also, I’m working on a part two for d.w. It should be posted soon. Anyway, enjoy!

Originally posted by spntrista


Even through the thick walls of bunker, you could hear the monstrous claps of the thunder and the merciless pounding of the pouring rain. Thunder storms didn’t scare you much. In fact, you found them quite beautiful.

However, your heart still twisted with worry for the Winchesters, or rather, a certain Winchester. And though you knew he was a good driver, you still laid on your side motionless, but wide awake.  

The door suddenly, but slowly squeaked open. You, due to your boyfriend’s cautiousness and overprotectiveness, grabbed for the knife hidden underneath your pillow and waited for the intruder. A few seconds of shuffling steps and stiffing around later, you felt the bed dip behind you, and the husky smell of leather, whiskey and rain invaded your nostrils.

His cold arms wrapped themselves around your waist, pulling you closer into his hard, bare chest. You sunk into him, letting go of the knife.

A little, throaty chuckle escaped his lips. “Taught you well.” he whispered, his lips pressed against your ear.

You shut your eyes, letting his warmth engulf you. Turning in his arms to face him, you bit your lip. He smirked, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. He was always so sweet and affectionate after a very long hunt. One of his hands, unexpectedly, started to trail down your side, cupping your thigh and pulling it over his waist. Of course, he always managed to be a little handsy as well.

“That was more than a week.” you murmured, running your hands through his damp hair.

It was his turn to shut his eyes, leaning into your touch. “Sorry, baby,” he mumbled, shifting even closer to you. “The goddamn shapeshifter.”

You trailed your hands over his face, tracing the sharp edge of his jawline. His breath hitched at your touch, making you freeze. After a minute, you slowly trailed your finger up his chin and across his scruffy cheeks. He stiffened at your movements, slightly digging his fingers into your hip.

“What’s wrong?” you whispered, taking your hands away from his face.

His green eyes shot opened at the lost interaction. He sighed heavily, his eyes carefully watching you. “It’s not right.” he mumbled.

You furrowed your eyebrows together. “What?”

“This is too perfect. You-” he cut himself off, eyes flickering to your lips. “This is around the time something bad happens.” he explained, pulling you closer into him – if that was even possible at this point.

Your heart broke at his words. All these years of hunting and losing the ones he’d loved – his parents, Bobby, Charlie, Kevin, Sam (multiple times). His cynical, pessimistic mind shouldn’t have been a surprise to you, yet tears still glassed over your eyes. “Dean,”

“Death follows me around everywhere,” he continued, cutting you off. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I’m scared,” he hesitantly admitted, his own eyes watering. “I don’t think I can handle losing someone else.”

You watched him in, probably, his most vulnerable state, your gut twisting at his grim words. With his voice now raw with pain, he whispered, “I don’t think I can handle losing you.”

A tear fell from his heart-rending green eyes, and you immediately wiped it away.

“Dean,” your own voice breaking.

You didn’t know what to say. How can you take years of pain and torment from someone who was tortured by the King of Hell? How can you ease the weight of such a heavy burden off someone who was willing to kill himself just to get a cursed mark off his skin? How do you comfort a person who was only ever comforted by misery and woe?

He noticed your loss of words, and murmured, “Tell me it’s okay.”

You gave a little nod, repeating his words. “It’s okay,” you gasped, swallowing the lump in your throat.

Then, it clicked.

“It’s okay to be happy now.” you assured, stroking his cheek with the back of your finger.

His sad eyes now gleamed with a certain understanding, and – perhaps – a tiny bit of hope. His lips twitched into a smile momentarily as he stared at you, baffled. “How did you-”

“You wouldn’t be this scared if you weren’t even a little bit happy.” you explained, with a little shrug and a small smile. “Besides, you’re getting easier to read.”

He chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Is that why it took you two years to say something other than my name?” he teased, as you wiped away the last of his tears.

“Shut up,” you grumbled, lightly nudging his shoulder.

He barely moved, a ghost of a smile hovering over his lips. “I love you,” he whispered, before sweetly pressing his lips to yours.

And against those plump, pink lips, you murmured, “I love you too.”  

anonymous asked:

All I want,,,,, is missing earth with the paladins,, jus give me pidge and lance talking about their favorite show and "man I wonder how many episodes I've missed" and then now they both know that the other likes the show all they do is make references. And hunk and shiro talking about earth food and hunk going out whenever possible to get earth food to make everyone feel a little better and keith talking documentaries and missing earth's horizon and all of them bonding over missing earth please

Yes to all of this.

Give me Pidge and Lance speculating about what’s happening in the newest season of their show back on Earth and eventually creating their own alternate canon and developing their own plot.  

Give me Lance and Pidge trying to give shitty explanations and renditions of what has already happened in their shows to Hunk, Shiro, Keith, Allura, and Coran so they can rope them in to acting out characters/voices in “new episodes” that Pidge and Lance create.

Give me a Hunk who bakes and cooks to cope with his stress and anxiety about being in a completely foreign environment with no guarantee of when (or if) he’ll see home again.  And who shares his coping mechanism with Shiro, who has to deal with the added pressures of being leader and fighting against aliens that are the very cause of his trauma.

Give me a Hunk and Shiro who work together to develop recipes that taste similar to the paladin’s favorite foods back on Earth.  Who teach the others how to recreate the recipes, giving them all an activity they can do and reminisce about together, and who recreate family dinners like the ones they had back on Earth.

  Give me a Keith who is surprisingly good at explaining how things work back on Earth to Allura and Coran because not all of the documentaries he watched were conspiracy documentaries.  Keith rambling about his conspiracies to Coran, who takes him seriously and even tells Keith about weird rumors and theories back on Altea.  Keith telling random facts he can remember from documentaries to Allura, who wants to learn more about the planet her paladins came from.  

Give me a Keith who info dumps what he can remember from his documentaries to the other paladins, who absorb it all eagerly and offer whatever facts they can remember since they’re all scared of forgetting about things on Earth.

Drunk and Disorderly - Imagine

*Y/N’s POV*

It was well after 2am by the time I gave up waiting, shuffling to the bedroom with a defeated sigh, leaving a couple of hall lights on behind me should he arrive home after I’d fallen asleep.

Harry had been out with his friends since 6.30pm, dinner and a few drinks he told me, “Nothing major sweetheart, I’ll be home by 12”.

“12 my arse” I grumbled as I crawled in to bed, shuffling under the duvet and into the cool sheets. I had waited up for him like he asked, but as 12 came and went, and my phone remained void of messages, I gave up. It was unusual of Harry to stay out later than intended and not let me know, and to say his lack of contact had me worried was an understatement.

I settled in to bed, lying flat on my back with my hands resting on my chest and my eyes gazing up at the ceiling, the exhaustion threatening to pull them closed but my concern repeatedly pulling them back open. As 3am drifted past, I finally slipped into an uneasy sleep.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed before I was ripped from my dreams by a loud banging on the front door, but I was faintly aware of a thin band of pale light creeping in between the curtains. A second series of aggressive knocks rattled the front door. I quickly flung myself from the bed and pulled a jumper over my body, dashing down the stairs in my pyjama trousers and socks. As I unlatched the front door, I assumed I would pull it back to find Harry, having lost his keys or too drunk to get them in the lock I wasn’t sure, but I knew it would be him. I was prepared to be relieved to have him in front of me, I was also prepared for the anger that would inevitably follow as he slurred out an excuse for returning during the early hours of the morning. But as I opened the door, everything I expected was replaced with one thing:


Stood before me, silhouetted by the crisp light of the early morning, were two police officers. The two men took no notice of my appearance as one offered me a soft smile.

“Miss Y/L/N?” he asked. By this point, I was too stunned to answer. Every possible reason as to why I was being faced with two police officers at 5 o’clock in the morning flashed through my brain in what must have been no longer than a second, and all of them ended with Harry, arrested, injured or worse. I’ve seen the programmes, the cop dramas and movies, and no good ever comes from having a policeman stood on your doorstep without good reason.

My inner turmoil must have been present on my face as the taller officer, a slender man with a thin beard and moustache, spoke again without waiting for my reply to his earlier question.

“No need to panic love, I can tell what you’re thinking and it’s not that” he said, his words lifting a weight off my heart. But still my brows furrowed in confusion.

“Is everything ok?” I asked.

“Well we are here on behalf of your boyfriend, Mr Styles, yes?” he asked and I nodded.

“Got ‘imself into a bit of trouble last night” the other officer said. He was shorter than his colleague and rounder, his hand stuffed into the front of his vest to brace him against the chill of the morning air.

“What happened? Is he ok?” I rushed.

“He’s fine. He was arrested last night for being drunk and disorderly. Kept him in the cells over night to sober him up. We’ve been sent to request that you come and collect him, there are a few forms that need to be filled out on his behalf” he explained. I was stunned silent. Harry, drunk and disorderly? It didn’t make sense, and it didn’t sit well in my stomach. I was well aware of the fact that Harry, like perhaps anyone else, was more than susceptible to the effects of alcohol, and on more than one occasion I had to pull him away from a fight on a night out, but for Harry to follow through on what I had always assumed were idle threats surprised me.

“Oh, oh right. Um, ok, just let me get dressed and I’ll follow you there in my car?” I suggested.

“Sounds good. We’ll just wait for you in our car, head out when you’re ready” the shorter officer spoke once again before they both turned away and returned to their car which was parked on the road just outside. I shut the door quickly and rushed upstairs, not bothering to change the jumper I had thrown on, but instead opting to switch my flannel pyjama bottoms for a pair of jeans. I stuffed my feet in to a pair of trainers as I grabbed my phone and keys before dashing out the front door again, locking it firmly behind me.

The officers drove slower than was probably necessary as I followed them across town to the local station, making a point to hold back after each junction to make sure that I was behind them. I pulled my car up beside them as we reached the station car park and followed them inside like they said.

“We’ve got Miss Y/L/N ‘ere Sir” the tall officer said, who I learned was called Tom as we hurried across the frozen ground of the car park and in to the welcome head of the station reception.

“Ah yes, thank you Sargent, I’ll deal with it from here”. Both officers gave me a small tip of the hat as they disappeared down one of the many corridors that branched off from the desk I was stood before.

“Not what you were expecting this morning ay Miss?” the man behind the desk said as he collected some papers from beside him and placing them in front of me along with a pen.

“Em no, not exactly” I said with by best attempt at a chuckle.

“No need to worry, just need you to fill out a couple of things and then your boyfriend will be released without charge, no harm done. Well maybe not for him, I imagine he’ll be getting a bit of an ear bashing from you on the way home, am I right?” he said with a smile.

“You got that right” I snorted as I began filling in the required details on the papers in front of me.

“I’d say he’s got the worst yet to come” he continued and once again I nodded, he had no idea. The paperwork was long and extensive, giving me more than enough time to decide whether I was angry, or relieved that nothing serious had happened to him. It didn’t take me long to decide that I was angry, furious in fact. For Harry, things like these become global news ‘Harry Styles arrested for being drunk and disorderly’, ‘Harry Styles spends night in a cell following arrest’, ‘Harry Styles: global superstar or drunken thug?’. His worldwide influence was growing day by day, his album was number 1 across the world, he himself is number 1 on 2 Billboard charts, and he was marking that achievement, by getting himself arrested. Way to go Harry.

“Done” the man behind the desk said as I signed the last page. “I’ll just head along and get ‘im” he said, before removing himself from his chair and disappearing, the large bunch of keys strapped to his waist jingling as he went. It was only moments before he returned, a tired and rather apprehensive Harry in his wake.

“Good luck Son” the man called as I turned to leave the building, Harry shuffling along behind me. It was silent, neither of us spoke as we hurried across the car park to escape the chill of the morning air. The smell of stale alcohol drifted from him as he slipped into the passenger seat beside me, his hands fidgeting nervously in his lap as I pulled out of the station and began the journey home.

“Sorry” Harry mumbled after several more minutes of thick, tense silence. I snapped.

“What the hell were you thinking?! Drunk and disorderly Harry are you kidding me?! What happened?!” I shouted, the anger in my voice resonating throughout the small confines of my car. Part of me wanted to calm down, to let him explain and to listen to what reasonable excuse he had for behaving in such an uncharacteristic way. But the anger at his carelessness was consuming me, so I pushed the reasonable thoughts aside and continued speaking before he had the chance to reply.

“Do you have any idea what the media are going to make of this?! How could you be so stupid Harry?!”

“Y/N please, let me explain” he signed gently, looking at me with wide, bloodshot eyes. I waved my hand in the air to encourage him to continue.

“I don’t even know what happened, I wasn’t that drunk,” I snorted but he pushed on, “I wasn’t I promise! We were having a couple of drinks after dinner, just like I said and then this guy recognised me, said I was ‘That guy who was in that band’. He knew you though, kept going on about how I had such a ‘pretty girl’ and all this shit. He was off his face Y/N, literally blind drunk, I was surprised he was still on his feet. But he kept going on and on about you, said he’d seen you picture in the papers or something, and he was saying some disgusting things. Kept saying I should share you out, give him and turn for the night, said I could watch if it made me feel better” Harry cringed and I supressed a shudder, the anger dissolving from my body with each word he spoke.

“I lost it after that, I don’t even remember what happened. I must have followed him in to the street or something and attacked him cause the next thing I knew I was pinned to the ground by two police officers and the guy was being lifted into an ambulance. Someone said that they’d seen me follow the guy out of the bar so they arrested me for being drunk and disorderly and took me to the station. I’m sure you know the rest” Harry said with another gentle sigh. I pulled the car up outside the house and killed the engine.

“But they released you without charge, no assault conviction, nothing” I frowned.

“Yeah, a couple of people in the bar heard what was being said, told the police everything and they let me go”.

“I was so worried Harry” I whispered, turning in my seat to face him as he did the same. He sighed and reached over to brush his hand against my cheek, running his thumb along the puffy skin beneath my eyes which had developed from lack of sleep.

“I know baby, I’m sorry. I asked if I could call you but they wouldn’t let me until everything had got sorted out” he said gently, his fingertips brushing down my neck and pushing my hair back behind my shoulder.

“You don’t ever have to do that because some creep is saying something about me you know?” I said and he nods his head gently.

“You didn’t hear what he was saying Y/N, it was so,” I hushed him.

“Harry what people say doesn’t matter, what he was saying would never have happened, you and I both know that. Don’t get yourself into trouble just to protect me” I said gently.

“I’d do anything to protect you, sweetheart” he said, his voice holding the most conviction it had since I picked him up.

“I know” I said, leaning across the centre console to press my lips lightly against his. Neither of us tried to deepen the kiss, simply let the comforting warmth of his lips against mine sooth the stress of the night.

“Come on curly,” I said, pulling away just far enough to speak, my lips brushing gently against his, “let’s get you inside and in the shower, you stink of alcohol” I said with a giggle, pulling away completely and reaching for the door handle.

“Fine,” he sighed as I opened the door and stepped out, “but you’re getting in with me” he added as I shut the car door, a small smile spreading across my lips as his words ignited a warmth in my stomach.  

moodboards of your face ig

im gonna try to explain this, let’s hope it works

-mbf me

-reblog this post pretty please

-send me an ask (off anon) with your face tag, and the color scheme you want (or don’t specify if you don’t really care)

-n i will make a moodboard with your !! face !! that’s right u, the beautiful human being reading this !

The ACOWAR box, curated by the amazing girls at @the-yachronicles has finally, fiiiiinally arrived! 🎉🙌 (No, but really, the Romanian post office is an absolute joke 😡)
But it was so sooooo worth the wait! I can’t even begin to explain how happy this box made me! All the care and thought that went into it is amazing ❤ Thank you so much for a wonderful box, loves 😍 You absolutely kick ass!
The ACOWAR box included:
* A Court of Wings and Ruin by @therealsjmaas (😍) @sjmaas
* A custom-made and exclusive High Lady of the Night Court candle by @koolandco (it smells absolutely divine I can’t even 😍)
* A custom ribbon bookmark by @charmedfiction (gooooorgeous, wings and roses on one side and a star on the other ❤)
* A custom Feysand bookmark by @readandwonder_ (all the feels forever ❤) 
* A Feysand print by @charliebowater (I fangirled so much it’s not even funny 😂) @charliebowater
* A Night Court tote bag by @paperlyandco (it’s so pretty and it has one of my favourite quotes on it ❤)
* A baby Rhysand sticker by @taratjah (the cuteness is too much 😍) @taratjah
* A custom pin by @eviebookish (I’m so in love with the design, it’s gorgeous)
I adored everything about this box ❤
Everyone needs to check out The YA Chronicles because they’re absolutely fantastic ❤

Okay but here’s how I see it- Adrian is Rosa’s Teddy and Milton is Gina’s Sophia

Let me explain:

On the surface, and even beneath the surface- Teddy and Adrian are totally different people. Complete opposites, if you will. But for Amy and Rosa? They serve the same purpose- the ones who seem Just Perfect but at the same time, not really.

Teddy’s like Amy in the way that he’s very organized and likes supposedly “nerdy” stuff such as police codes and binders. Extreme Amy, if you will. But ultimately, Teddy wasn’t the person Amy wanted, or needed. Deep down they weren’t similar in the right ways. Amy wanted to become the youngest police captain on the force, Teddy wanted to brew and bottle pilsners.

Teddy was nice but he was too boring, to quote Amy. Too tame. Yet, Jake could always be counted on to make Amy laugh, and he could challenge her and he could cater to her competitive streak because he had one of his own.

Likewise, Adrian is like that for Rosa. They both like… Nancy Myers and… knives? Honestly I don’t even know. But they share similarities, and Sketchy Adrian just seems Perfect for Rosa, doesn’t he?

Except- Rosa’s been mentioning Adrian less and less, actually not at all for most of the second half of the season, and while she’s been maintaining some semblance of her love for him this episode with her “yeah I just want him to be happy” and “good looking guy, weird energy” it’s all falling flat- especially when he starts snorting cocaine on purpose and gets all… high, to say the least.

Sorry, but that doesn’t look like someone who’s mildly amused by the love of her life.

Also the way she fiddles with that cocaine knife when he starts getting hyped up makes her seem scarily angry or at the very least annoyed??

Sure, Adrian means well and he does love Rosa a lot- but how long can Rosa tell herself that that’s enough?

Rosa is a “badass but not an anarchist”. Adrian would kill a child if said child was a “dick”. Not trying to say that makes Adrian problematic or anything, this is a comedy and he said that for comedic purposes- Jason Mantzoukas is amazing and honestly cracks me up a bunch. But fundamentally, Rosa and Adrian have different rules, and that sets them apart in ways that will ultimately make them incompatible in the long run.

She chose the Nine-Nine and left him in Argentina by himself. Even faced with the prospect of fifteen years in jail she chose her family over a fresh start in Argentina with no scorpions/too many scorpions. He wasn’t enough.

On the other hand- when Jake first met Sophia, she seemed amazing and just the right fit for him. She was fun, witty, loved Die Hard, and was all around amazing. Except… not. They came into conflict over their jobs, and ultimately saw the world in different ways. Sophia also wasn’t as committed to their relationship as Jake was.

I’m not saying that Milton is gonna walk out on Gina- far from it. Dude is a Good and Decent guy who seems to genuinely make Gina happy. He’s a BOYLE. They all say “i love you” to each other constantly. Of course he’s a great guy who wouldn’t walk out on the mother of his child, just look at him:

And I’m not going to pretend that snowboarding, melted-snow-donating Milton isn’t exactly what Gina needs right now. He’s sweet and affectionate and he spontaneously dances with Gina. Obviously they’re on the same page baby name wise (side note: THE ENIGMA/ENIGMO IS A SUPER DOPE NAME).

But… how long can Gina be content with someone who, put simply- probably wouldn’t challenge her in many ways? And possibly, maybe not even in any way. We don’t know that much about Milton yet, but from what I’ve gathered, about him and Boyles in general, he’ll likely end up always doing Gina’s bidding and going along with her every whim.

Which, again, is what Gina needs right now. She’s had a tough year, where she got hIT BY A BUS and was legally dead for two minutes- the girl could use a break!! And in Rosa’s words, “After she got hit by a bus, no one can say no to her.”

Sadly, I’m not sure a submissive Yes-man is what Gina wants or needs in the long run. Gina does best when she feels the need to prove herself, and admittedly at times she can go a little bit overboard and she needs to be reined in.

Milton’s a kind and precious dude, and of all the horrible men in this world that could possibly father Gina’s child (Gina’s pregnancy squick is another matter, but maybe you lose all fear after getting run over by a bus idk), I’m glad he’s the baby daddy. (Sorry for saying baby daddy)

But once Gina gets over how cool snow boarding, winter apparel, impromptu dinners, and having similar thoughts on baby names are- she’ll find herself yearning for more.

She’ll find herself yearning for someone who can pleasantly surprise her in ways she won’t expect, someone who brings something new to the table, someone who can easily rile her up but also be her best companion.

I’m glad Gina and Rosa are both at the very least content with their romantic partners right now- but this isn’t their endgame. Not to me, at least.

After the reception we left the party to go to our honeymoon destination. It was a lodge about 20 minutes from the city. My husband was a quite drunk and so was I. I was wearing a short wedding dressand no underwear. As soon as we were in the car I started playing with his dick and then gave him a blowjob. Just out of town we drove into a police roadblock. He didn’t have time to put his dick away when we were stopped. There were two policemen. They could clearly see what we were doing. They told my husband to get out of the car with his dick still outside his pants. When he got out they realised that he was drunk. My husband explained to them that we just got married and are on our way to our honeymoon. They said that they couldn’t let us drive in this condition. They loaded my husband in the police vehicle and one cop got in behind the wheel. While we were driving he told me that they can arrest my husband for drunk driving and he will spend the rest of our honeymoon behind bars. Unless I agree to have sex with him. I agreed on one condition: my husband must never know. He started fingering my already wet pussy. When we arrived at the police station he told my husband that he is gonna keep him overnight for his own protection. My husband was worried about me but the cop told him he will take me to a hotal and we can continue tomorrow morning. They locked my husband in a cell and one cop left. The other one took me to an office and lifted my dress. He fucked me on the desk. It was good but he pulled out and came over my stomach in 2 minutes. He told me to go wash and he will give me a place to sleep. He took me to the bathroom. We passed a cell with 4 guys in. They whistled when they saw my short dress. I went into the bathroom and washed my stomach and pussy. When I came out the guys whistled again. The cop laughed and pulled me to him. He kissed me and pushed me against the bars. Not long I felt a hand on my ass and another under my dress between my legs. I tried to pull away but the cop held me in position while kissing me. A finger slipped into my pussy and started fingering me. Someone was pulling my ass cheeks open. The cop pulled me from the bars and told me to wait there. He took out keys and unlocked the cell door and told me to get inside. He told the guys that if anyone of them touches me he would kill him. There were about 8 beds and I went inside and lied down on the first bed. The cop locked the cell, went out and switched off the lights. It was so dark you could feel it. No window. I kept still and after while I started to relax. It was very quite. Then I felt a hand on my leg. I was too scared to move. The hand shot straight to my naked pussy and started to finger me. My pussy was still wet and you could hear the wet sloppy sounds in the dark. He opened my legs and then he started licking my pussy. There were hands mauling my tits and more hands rubbing my pussy and pulling at my lips. Then a dick was forced into my mouth. The licking stopped and was replaced with a stiff dick that started fucking my pussy. Soon I was sucking dick while another cock was fucking me. And then the lights came on and everyone freezes. The cop came in and looked at me with a dick in my mouth and another one in my pussy. He left but didn’t switch off the lights. The guys where really fucking me now. Taking turns in my mouth and pussy. And then one of them turned me over on my hands and knees. He pushed his dick into my asshole. They all fucked me in my ass, pussy and mouth and they all came 3 times. I didn’t count how many times I came. We fell asleep on the floor. During the night I woke up with a dick fucking my pussy. He came and we went back to sleep. This happened a few times during the night. In the morning 2 of them started fucking me again. One in my pussy and the other one in my ass. They were still fucking me when the cop came in. He told them to finish. They both came inside me. I got up and took my dress. He took me to the bathroom and I took a shower. I was covered in cum. I washed 4 times got out and dressed. The cop took me to the office and told me that my husband is awake and showering. He bend me over the table, lifted my dress and shoved his dick into my asshole. He fucked me hard and came in my ass. When he was finished he told me to come and he took me to the front. He told me that my husband thinks I slept at the hotel. My husband was glad to see me. We got in the car and drove to the lodge. We came there and we both took a shower and then we fucked for hours. I had to perform even though my pussy and ass was sore. He still doesn’t know about my gangbang.

Stephanie Sinnz 💋

(Fictional story)
Enjoy 👅

  • Alec: Magnus bane... How do I begin to explain Magnus bane?
  • Tessa: Magnus bane is flawless.
  • Izzy: He has two Fendi purses and a silver Lexus.
  • Clary: I hear his hair's insured for $10,000.
  • Simon: I hear he does car commercials... in Japan.
  • Ragnor: his favorite movie is Varsity Blues.
  • Will: One time he met Ryan Reynolds on a plane- and he told him he was pretty.
  • Raphael: One time he punched me in the face... it was awesome.

So this is legit the message Trump left at the Holocaust memorial in Israel -

- and, yeah.

One Republican official, who requested anonymity in order to speak freely, said after meeting Trump recently he did not think the president had a firm enough grasp on the nuances of the long-running Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

“I don’t think he understands it,” said the official, adding that Trump needed more detailed briefings before leaving on Friday. “I think it’s a very difficult challenge and I hope he’s going to talk to a lot of smart people.”

Conversations with some officials who have briefed Trump and others who are aware of how he absorbs information portray a president with a short attention span.

He likes single-page memos and visual aids like maps, charts, graphs and photos.

National Security Council officials have strategically included Trump’s name in ‘as many paragraphs as we can because he keeps reading if he’s mentioned,’ according to one source, who relayed conversations he had with NSC officials.

[source: Reuters]

“Wow. That is absolutely pathetic. Our President can only understand the world to the extent it involves…himself.”


On Princess Carolyn’s bookshelf:

A Tale of Two Kittens

Me Meow Pretty One Day

Romeow and Juliet

Purrity - Johnathan Franzen

Purrmese Days

Consider The Lobster - David Foster Wallace

The Big Book of Pajamas

The Color Purrple


Reddit link explaining the books

furiosaredeemed  asked:

Kylux + 15 ("Shhh, they'll hear us") please? :)

(Modern Benarmie, for your reading pleasure!)

They are in a part of the college library that other freshmen hardly ever frequent, only the grad students hard at work on their theses, and library assistants who want to take a break and sit down without being scolded. It is on an upper floor but it feels like a basement, because there are no windows and hardly any light. Dust motes hover like fairies in the dimness. It is finals week and hot. The air has risen up to this infernal attic, and they have been wilting into one another, sweating nice and sweet while they kiss.

“I want to ask you something,” Ben says, and Armie hushes him.

“Shh. They’ll hear us.”

“They?” Ben asks, quieter, but more irritated. “Who’s they?”

Armie points. There are two librarians coming around the corner, talking about the finer points of next school year’s budget, and Ben and Armie flatten themselves against the shelf where they’ve been standing, kissing each other hot and stuffy and sweaty in the close musty air. It feels like ten minutes before the librarians are gone, though it’s probably shorter, since it just seems like an agonizingly long time. Armie’s hand stays soft and clammy on top of Ben’s, rubbing the top of his hand with his thumb.

When they’re certain they’re alone again, Armie turns to Ben. His face is half-hidden in shadow, but his eyes are bright. Mischievous, almost, except Ben has never seen him engage in mischief

“Okay,” Armie says, soft. “Okay. Tell me what you wanted to tell me.”

By now Ben has just about lost his nerve. He’s been overthinking as they waited, tethered to his desire to say it only by Armie’s hand.

“Tell me,” Armie says again. 

He should just say it.

“What are we going to like. Be. When next semester happens.”

The dust is irritating Armie’s nose, and he rubs it with his free hand. He hasn’t taken the other one away from Ben’s.

“What we are now. Or, I dunno. More, maybe. I guess it just depends on what you want.”

“I don’t know what I want…”

There’s a pang of hurt in Armie’s eyes, Ben can see that even in the dim light, and he hurries to explain himself. “I–I don’t know what I’m allowed to ask for.”

“Allowed? You can–you can ask for whatever you want. I guess, within reason?”

They both sound so uncertain, like they weren’t just kissing with the deepest degree of confidence, like they weren’t both thinking they had never kissed anybody that just felt–right–that way. The spell seems, well, not broken, but interrupted. Ben is wondering how to get them back into that comfortable groove, worrying that he is responsible for the universe going briefly off kilter.

“I know I want to keep–doing this.”


“Sure. More than that. If you like.”

Armie squeezes his hand. “Will you wait for me? This fall, can we…?”

It is an agonizing length of time to wait, sure, but it is something to anticipate. It is worth being three hundred miles apart all summer long, if it will lead to this.

“Of course I will.”

“You have to promise, Ben.” Armie pretends to sound huffy, but he can’t, he just sounds tender. “I’ll only accept it as a promise.”

“I promise,” Ben says, unhesitatingly.

And that is all Armie needs to let go of Ben’s hand so he can pull him closer for another kiss, another, another, until they cannot stand the warmth anymore and go in search of air conditioning.