no the door does not close

6

#mcm a day late, but dedicated to all you fellows out there! All equally deserving! I still believe in knights… you can’t always see the shining armor, because they wear it on the inside. They’re the guys that hold the door open for you, who is always there in good times and bad, the one who makes you laugh and smile at the most silly things, he’s the one that always remembers all the small things that people take for granted. He not only holds you in his arms, he holds you close to his heart, and never lets you forget how special you are , he’s a guy that believes in you and loves you unconditionally. He’s a guy that does random things to help others, because he wants to make the world a better place by just being in it. Knights are all around you all you had to do was open up your eyes and see. 😍
📸 Model David Gandy @davidgandy_official for Esquire Singapore @esquiresg
Photography by Tomo Brejc @tomobrejc
Stylist is Mia Howe
Grooming by Larry King
Location: Claridge’s and Repton Boxing Club
Retouching by Digital Light Ltd
#davidgandy #tomobrejc #esquire #singapore #malemodel #model #mensfashion #menwithstyle #menwithclass #gentleman #classy #dapper #fashion #boss #sartorial #instastyle #moda #motivation #upscale #instalike #hair #topthatpose #hot #blueeyes #vscocam #details #portrait #bestoftheday

Things the moon signs do

Aries: offend people, close the door on others, text while driving

Taurus: listen more than they talk, smile rarely but genuinely, have a lot of habits

Gemini: pull leaves off of trees as they walk by, be delighted by small coincidences, play a TV show or movie in the background while they work on something

Cancer: keep score of when someone does something for them, text back immediately, get mad quickly but get over it more quickly

Leo: stare at people, start drama, ask people if they really like them

Virgo: observe the quirks of others, feel willed to do things for other people although they don’t want to, cry tears of joy

Libra: say “how are you though?”, cry at the slightest provocations, secretly want to talk about themselves

Scorpio: fall in love with their best friends, dislike the people who are close to someone they like, look after their friends but not themselves

Sagittarius: play it cool, come off as pretentious in spite of preferring less intellectual friends, have a false view of themselves

Capricorn: talk themselves out of things, become interested in groups/teams/bands, befriend their teachers

Aquarius: treat everyone like their best friend, value friends over partners, invite people to things without consulting the people they originally invited

Pisces: hang out with someone without doing anything with them, fall asleep while on the phone, convince themselves they don’t need the things they want

“Jack, I need you to rescue me.” Bitty clutches his phone tightly, trying to keep it steady.

“Bittle? What’s going on? Where are you?”

Bitty looks out the door at the rain. It’s fat and heavy and he can barely make out the cars he knows are parked a few metres away in the lot.

“I was baking a pie, but Holster had finished all the eggs at breakfast without telling me. He’s done it before–finished the eggs, that is–but he told me last time. So I had the flour on the bench, and spices, and I opened the fridge and–because there was no note, Jack so–”

“Bits?” Jack interrupts. “I need you to do something, okay? For me?”

“Oh. Okay, Jack.”

“Great. Take a deep breath.”

The air is freezing at the entrance, with the doors opening and closing as other shoppers walk in and out. Bitty opens his mouth and does it anyway.

“Good job. Now slowly let it out.”

Bitty blows out and he swears he can see his breath cloud in front of him even though he’s inside.

“Once more,” says Jack, “then tell me where you are.”

In. Out. “Murder Stop n Shop.”

“Thank god.”

“What, why?” Bitty asks, confused and shivery as a gust of wind comes in. “Jack. That’s not good. It’s raining so darn much and I’ve got no umbrella and too many groceries. I can’t afford to let these things get wet.”

“Look to your left.”

Bitty turns his head to see–as best he can in this weather–the pathway leading to the store.

There’s Jack. Walking through the torrential downpour with a massive, blue umbrella, and his phone to his ear.

Keep reading

npr.org
Trump Refugee Ban Clashes With Faith-Based Groups' Religious Missions
Six of the nine agencies that resettle refugees in the U.S. are religious groups. Their leaders say the president's decision to halt the refugee flow runs counter to their beliefs and ministry.

“It is deeply ingrained in our faith and our understanding of the Bible that we’re called to welcome the stranger and love and serve our neighbors,” says LIRS President Linda Hartke. “Not the neighbors that we choose, but the neighbors that God gives to us.”

The idea of prioritizing Christian refugees, as President Trump says he wants, does not come from Hartke’s church or from other Christian groups. The news that Trump wants to close the door to refugees, especially from Syria, has alarmed those Lutheran congregations that were prepared to accommodate refugees.

“My phone is ringing off the hook,” Hartke says, “from people in local churches who want to know when they can receive a refugee family. Those are hard calls to take — to have to tell people that the president’s decisions will likely mean that there won’t be refugees that they can be welcoming in the months and perhaps years ahead.”

I was taught young how to be stone-cold, self-reliant, to hold myself high and poised, with a ready smile and a subtle charm ready to conquer the world. So I learned from early on to only cry behind close doors, on dim lights, without sound, to howl in pain silently, to break down without anyone knowing, and to never ask for help. Because when no one sees you suffering, do you really suffer? Much like, when a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? I can always just pretend that whatever pains me never happened, and I can always go back and face the world pretending I’m okay.
—  cynthia go // If a tree falls in a forest [88/365]
Creed the Drunk Jedi II, The Prequal

Deep within the bowels of the insidious, horribly misspelled Party Boat….

GM (Me): “You all rush through the door, gathering the remains of the Clockwork Captain as you do; closing the door behind you, you all immeadiatly are hit by an overwhelming strong smell of alcohol.”

Ewok: “Oh god its Creed isnt it.’

GM: “You are within the bar you saw Creed enter when you first crashed into the Party Boat; you hear nothing but- *hits tape recorder, room fulls of noises and shouts* -a veritable serenade, a neverending cascade, of Creed speaking, his comprehensibility and his drunkenness waning just as does my impression of a Drunken Shawn Connery.”

Willie: “Oh my god.’

GM: "Aliens of every size, race, age, and from every era imaginable sit, walk, talk, and most importantly, drink here.”

Ewok: “Can… can we just find our creed and get out of here?”

GM: “You can! He’s sitting with another Creed at the Bar, drinking and exchanging stories. Willie and Bubka vaguely recognize him as the Creed they once encountered on a Resistance mission gone horribly wrong.”

Bubka: “…. Let’s just go get him, and get out of here.”

GM: “Sure, sure. As you approach him, the other creed stands up and stumbles towards an open door that resembles a certain resistance base’s closest.”

*Party realizes they have no idea how Creed became part of their party, and that he just showed up and asserted himself one day,*

Ewok: “Holy shit how long have you been planning this? No, lower that finger, I don’t want to fucking know. Let’s just get him and get out.”

GM: “Ok, ok, you grab Creed by the scruff of his neck and drag him off, shoving him into Willies arms to carry him away.”

Willie: “And enough Beer to last Creed a long while.”

GM: “… and Beer.”

GM: “Now, to interrupt your plotting, an elderly Creed approaches you. He looks old and wizened, as though his Kidneys have died so many times that their casualties outweigh those of an extragalactic war. He clears his throat to speak.”

GM: “…”

Party: “…”

GM: *clears throat”

GM: “SCREEEEEEE GRRRGLEGERLA CLICK CLAP CLACK GGRRRRRRGLLLGGRRRE!”

Party: “…”

GM: “ Your creed translates, saying that they were expecting you and have docked our ship and repaired it right over there.”

GM:CREEEEEEEEEEEE! *Sound of a dying cat*.

GM: “He also says he hopes you have enjoyed your first yet last visit, and that you enjoy your last yet first visit.”

Squid Guy: “Wait, we’re coming back to the Party Boat?”

GM: “….yes?”

Party.“… Fuck no!”

Ewok: “We board our ship and get the fuck out.”

GM: “You do that and crash into your past selves in hyperspace, forcing yourselves out and to crash into the party boat in the first place.”

Party: *rage noises*

I believe in this country. I believe in the American people. I believe that people are more good than bad. I believe tragic things happen, I think there’s evil in this world, but I think that at the end of the day, if we work hard and if we’re true to those things in us that feel true and feel right, then the world gets a little better each time. That’s what this Presidency has tried to be about, and I see that in the young people I’ve worked with. I couldn’t be prouder of them.  And so, this is not just a matter of No Drama Obama. This is what I really believe. It is true that behind closed doors I curse more than I do in public, and sometimes I get mad and frustrated like everybody else does. But, at my core, I think we’re gonna be okay. We just have to fight for it. We have to work for it. And not take it for granted. And I know that you will help us do that.
—  President Barack Obama, his final words of his last press conference as President. (x)
Oh dang

Chicken nugget is doing fine he’s happy and healthy but I have to go to Saturday marching band hell, so I won’t be home!! I really hope that I’m able to be there when he evolves… I’m so sorry the suspense is killing me but my band director will kill me more if I miss this practice,,
I’m on mobile now, I’ll try to answer asks when I can. Feel free to message

I’m worried about him! Though my bathroom door is closed, so things should be ok in the event that he does evolve without my being there.

Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. 

You stare at the closed door in front of you and take a deep breath for the third time tonight. You’re standing outside your boyfriend’s apartment, like you’ve done a thousand times before. It’s the same chipped and faded paint on the wood you’ve seen that has been etched into your memory, along with the same useless doorbell that never works- But it all feels different, because of what you’ve come here to do.

You are completely, totally, hopelessly in love with Daveed Diggs. He feels the same way about you, you know he does. He’s expressed it breathlessly between kisses, in dorky love letters, and in a song coupled with Lin’s awkward beatboxing in the background. And because the two of you are in love, you want to do what people who are in love do.

In the year that you’ve been dating he has mostly managed to keep his hands off of you. You never went much further than the occasional hasty make out session on the couch, but lately you’d been wanting more. You came to his apartment with the intention of finally, finally taking that next step with him. You are worried about one thing, though, since you are an absolutely clueless virgin. You’ve never done this before, but have always imagined how it would go… your first time being so intimate with another human being. Thinking it through from the last couple of days, you convinced yourself you had nothing to worry about. He’s always been so caring with you, and you’re not a child. You know how this works.

You finally knock on the door, smoothing out your dress and fixing your hair as you wait. You’ve chosen to wear something that you know makes you look irresistible-a short, sleeveless dress, lace tights, and your lucky heels, all in black. It should definitely do the trick.

Soft footsteps come closer, and the door opens to reveal your boyfriend, messy haired and as cute as ever.

“Hey, Y/N,” He beams at you, his brown eyes shining with joy from your surprise of just randomly showing at his door. He’s so cute that you nearly forget to respond.

“Hi, Dave. Mind if I come inside?” You smile back, trying to add an edge to your voice that you hope is anything near sexy.

“Not at all, sugar,” He ushers you inside and kisses your cheek as you brush past him. “What inspired this visit?” He hums against your neck, slipping his arms around your waist.

“Oh, nothing, I just wanted to see you. That’s all,” You reply coyly.

“Well, you’re always welcome here. I can never get enough of you,” He’s still smiling at you, although it’s more of a smirk now. Maybe he knows what you’re up to. Still in an almost-embrace, you drift into the living room and onto the couch.

“Do you want a drink? I could get us some beers,” Daveed asks.

“How about something a little more… sophisticated?” You suggest sinking your vision to his eyes, hoping that you’re still being subtle.

He must have caught on to your plan, because his eyebrows quirk up, like they always do when he’s in a playful mood. “Coming right up, doll,” he says and whisks to the kitchen and returns shortly with two blood-red glasses. When he gives you yours your hands touch and linger. It’s as if every time your skin has come into contact, from the kiss at the door to this quick moment, sparks have flown between the two of you. Even making eye contact with him over the rim of your glass has you feeling hot all over.

It doesn’t take long before both of your glasses are drained and you’re basically in his lap, toying with the buttons at the top of his shirt. You kick off your shoes so you can bring your feet up on the couch. Looking down at you, he pulls you closer to him, as if it were even possible. It’s still chaste and innocent. You’re only playing with each other’s hair, looking into each other’s eyes. His gaze keeps flicking down to your lips, which you had agonized over for some time, delicately painting on the perfect shade of red. Then his lips are on yours, soft at first and then building up to something dangerous and reckless. There’s teeth, there’s tongue, it’s filthy and you love it. Your lipstick is definitely ruined but you couldn’t care less.

He pushes you onto your back, suddenly harsh and commanding. He has total control over you, and you’re just helplessly needy, arching into his touch and chasing those wonderful feelings he’s giving you. There’s that sinful thing he does with his tongue, and the way he keeps grinding his hips where your dress has ridden up… It’s too much and not enough.

“Maybe we should… Mmf… Go to your room?” You ask as he stops his assault on your lips to nibble at your collarbone.

He simply nods, holding your hand on the way there and looking at you like he wants to devour you. He throws you onto the bed, making you squeak in surprise. “I want you, and I’m going to take you… I’ll make you mine, babydoll…” He murmurs and literally tears your tights off your legs. The amount of force he’s using begins to scare you.

Your dress is the next to go. Thankfully, he manages to keep it in one piece. Now you’re fully exposed, except for a thin lace bra which he makes quick work of. He’s straddling you at this point, and you can feel his erection straining in his skinny jeans. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N.” He growls as he takes in the expanse of your bare body. Even though it’s a compliment, it sounds almost predatory.

His clothes come off quickly. You want to take a second to let the fact sink in that you’re skin to skin with the love of your life, but he’s moving so fast you don’t have the time. It’s too frantic. Every touch is fleeting; every brush of your lips is too rushed.

“It’s been such a long time, sweetheart. You’re so gorgeous. I might have to skip the foreplay. I need to feel you, now,” He growls and pounces on you, and starts rutting his cock against your opening. It’s nice- but your eyes widen when you realize exactly how big he is. You were not expecting it to be so thick or so long, and you find yourself wondering how on Earth that is going to fit inside you. “Mmm… You’re going to feel me for days. You’ll be so wrecked when I’m through with you…” He’s pressing harder, sending prickles of pain throughout your body and your heart is racing. You want to back out, but it must be too late now. He’s starts to force it in you and it’s too much too soon- you cry out in pain.

“It’s okay, it will be better soon, it’s just been a while-” he begins to soothe you, his eyes closed and running his hands over your arms.

“No, no, no- I’m a virgin. I’m a virgin, Daveed.” You blurt out.

“You’re what?” He stops immediately, and pulls out to scoop you up in his arms.

“I’ve never had sex. I’m sorry… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” tears practically falling out as you admitted it. “I thought it would be fine, but you were being so rough, and you were bigger than I expected and…” You trail off, pressing your face into his bare shoulder.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry Y/N.” He strokes your hair, kissing your forehead softly. “I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed that you’d done this before. I don’t know what I was thinking. Why didn’t you tell me? I would have made it better for you.”

“I don’t know.” You sigh. “I wanted everything to go smoothly.”

“That worked out really well.” He says sarcastically, trying to pull a joke. He must have noticed your worried expression because he adds, “I’m not mad at you, babe. Don’t worry. Just be honest with me in the future, okay?”

You nod meekly, and then smile at him, which he returns happily. Then he wraps you in another hug. “I didn’t say we had to stop. I only said we should go slower., You whisper, glancing at him and biting your lower lip.

“Will you be okay if I touch you?” he asks cautiously. He seems more afraid than you are, now. You find yourself unable to believe that he cares about you so much.

“Yes,” you breathe out.

He lets his hands run over you, in no rush. This time he worships you; he treats you like a queen. Daveed memorizes every dip and curve, delicately tracing every freckle and scar. It seems like an eternity before he reaches the place you need him to be. His fingers touch your clit hesitantly at first, but he moves faster as you let out whines and gasps of pleasure. “Do you like that, sugar?” he asks, smirking, obviously proud of the reactions he’s retrieving from you.

“Oh God, yes…” you cut yourself off with a moan when a finger enters you. It’s seconds before he finds the spot that has you begging for more and bucking into his hand. Then it’s joined by another, and you wince at the stretch but never stop the stream of noises and incoherent curses leaving your mouth.

“So wet… I think you’re ready, doll,” He retracts his fingers and guides you onto your back. He’s above you, now; knees braced on either side of you. You’re still shaking, but he’s still lending you soothing touches. Every time you look at him you find yourself reassured, somehow. It reminds you that all he wants tonight is to make you feel as special as he thinks you are. “I’ll be careful, I promise,” Daveed motions and kisses your forehead. Then he’s pushing in, as slow as he promised. He watches you carefully, ready to pull out at the first sign that you’re in pain. Your eyes are shut tight as you try to ignore the slight stretch. “Hey, look at me.” He tilts your chin up and you look at him. He’s absolutely bewitching like this, towering over you, beautiful eyes glinting and full of an intoxicating combination of adoration and lust. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you say. He takes this as his cue to slide in fully, eliciting a pained whimper from you. Immediately he’s planting quick, sloppy kisses to your neck, mumbling apologies and promises about how good it’s going to feel. You’re not sure if you believe him until he starts to move. Somehow he’s managed to reach a place you never knew existed, and each time he rubs against it you’re overcome with such an intense want for him. You moan out loud, shamefully loud, and he grins against your skin. Heat spreads over you, radiating from every point where your body connects with his. He keeps making all these wonderful, lewd noises- groans and breathy “oh fuck”s and unintelligible praise. The unhurried roll of his hips is driving you mad with bliss, to the point where you’re almost delirious.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N,” He groans. You try to respond, but you’re so overwhelmed by aching need and the heavenly drag of his cock in an out of you that you can’t manage more than desperate panting. You’re trembling beneath him, consumed with unfamiliar feelings and a fire that keeps threatening to break loose in your body. Unfathomable ecstasy washes over you when he finds your clit again, rubbing it to the beat of his thrusts. “I want to see you become undone for me,” he purrs.

So you do. It’s everything you thought it would be- heaven, paradise, a high you know you could never get from any drug. Your release triggers his, and you watch his face contort in euphoria.

Still in a haze, you untangle yourselves. He pulls you close to him, your back against his chest. Both of you are sweaty and practically burning up from your previous activities, but you don’t mind at all. “That was… amazing. You’re amazing,” He mumbles into your hair.

“You’re not too bad yourself.” You giggle, exhausted from your adventure.

“I love you so much, you know that, right?” You turn to face him and he props himself up on an elbow.

“Of course I do. I love you, too,” you say, and you mean it. He smiles and pecks you on the lips.

“I am sorry about your underwear though…”

Walking With Second Sight

This is a spell with which I’ve had much success. It works just as well in an urban environment as in the countryside. Most witches communicate with the spirit world via trance states, but it is possible to receive semi-direct communication from spirits while in a normal frame of mind. 

Try this if you’d like to receive omens and portents while fully-aware of your normal, physical surroundings. It’s an ideal activity, as well, for learning more about and communicating with local spirits. 

It is best performed at dusk or dawn, and even better if it is to be done on the solstice, or better yet, the equinox. It requires no tools besides a small bit of iron, preferably cold, un-forged iron, but any iron will do in a pinch.

Stand in the threshold of your home. It does not matter if this is the doorway of a literal house, or the door to an apartment or dormitory room. Stand with one eye closed (the right, if possible) and with your left foot in the air, supporting yourself on one leg. Quickly whisper the following incantation three times:

“Here I stand,
 between day and night.
I ask sky, sea, and land,
To grant me true sight.”

Then, swiftly leave your home, but first place the sliver of iron (nail, or what-have-you) near the door, touching it. It is best if you can slip it into the doorjamb, but if you can’t, just placing it near the doorframe so that it is touching it will do.

Venture out into the world. Be vigilant for signs, portents, and omens, as well a spirit communication. Assume that almost all events or interactions are meaningful messages during this. 

Try not to speak to any one person overly much should you meet someone. Be very sure to never tell anyone or anything you encounter while out and about during this period about what you’ve done. 

Keep silent on the subject of magick, regardless of what happens, but pay attention to any small conversations you might overhear or participate in, no matter how innocuous and meaningless they may appear on the surface.

Do not eat or drink anything while out in this state, no matter how tempting foodstuff you encounter might be. Be careful to not leave the immediate area around your home, with which you’re already familiar. You may encounter people or events that seem to wish to lead you into unfamiliar territory - resist the urge to follow them.

Do not purchase anything from a shop or exchange anything with another person, and be particularly mindful of your belongings. It is very easy to lose small objects during adventures such as this, and, if you do lose something, it is likely to never be found again. On that note, if you should see something interesting lying about, don’t bring it home with you, no matter how tempting it might be.

Before the sun fully rises or sets, return home. Remove the bit of iron from the doorjamb before entering, and touch it to your forehead, gently, three times. Then, pocket it or carry it with you, and enter your home, the experience concluded. You will, at that point, find yourself back in your normal state, and it then falls to you to make sense of any signs you may have received while walking with second sight.

Stiles Stilinski Imagine- Jersey Jitters

Anon- Could you do an stiles imagine where him and the reader just stayed dating and on away games for lacrosse the girlfriends wear the boyfriends jersey and he is nervous about asking her and FLUFF btw, love you and your blog!💕

Authors Note- Thank you so much, love you too!!x I actually loved this request and I hope I got it close to how you wanted. Nervous Stiles is definitely the cutest Stiles x

“So, do you have everything for tonight’s game?” your boyfriend asked, while helping you swap your books into your locker. “Popcorn, chocolate, spare converse, a jacket and a drink” you smiled with an eye roll. He does this every lacrosse game, as if you’d forget. “I know it’s annoying but its my first match with you as my official girlfriend” he said, shutting your locker door for you. “Aww you’re nervous” you teased. “I am not nervous, I just want to make sure you’re fully prepared” he said stubbornly. “Tell that to your face, is that a blush I see?” you asked, wiggling your finger at him. He gave a small laugh and moved your hand out of his face by holding it, as you walked down the hallway. “Don’t forget it’s an away game, so it’s extra important” he claimed. “Why?” you questioned. “Because we’ll be in their territory and I don’t want the other team to try and make a move on my territory” he began. “You have been spending way too much time with werewolves, you’re even starting to sound like one” you joked, after understanding his reference. “I’m sorry I have no idea where that came from, but that’s besides the point. Its a sort of tradition and I was wondering-” he began to explain, before you got distracted. “OO, Lydia is there. Can we continue this later, I need to copy her English homework before next period” you said, already beginning to walk off. “Uhm yeah, sure. It can wait” he returned with a small smile. “Ill see you later babe” you blew a kiss, before joining her. “Real smooth bro” Scott said, after catching up to Stiles. “Shut up ok, I’m going to ask” he replied. “Did you really think it was a good idea to call her your territory?” Scott was trying so hard to hold in a laugh. “Omg you heard that?” he sighed. “Yep and so did Jackson” Scott claimed, pointing to him. Jackson shook his head disappointingly, before walking off smugly. “I don’t know man, what if she says no? What if she breaks up with me? Maybe she’ll think I’m too clingy and go for some other lacrosse douche. Maybe-” he began to ramble. “You’re overthinking this. Y/n is really into you, I mean her heartbeat goes insane whenever you’re around” Scott encouraged. “Really?” Stiles asked, with a huge grin. “Really” Scott confirmed with a smile.

Lunch time finally came around and you and Allison reserved your normal table for everyone. Lydia and Jackson soon joined you, hand in hand. Instead of being met by your usual forehead kiss, that Stiles insisted on doing everyday to show everyone you’re his, you were met by a different greeting. “Hey baby” Stiles said brightly, sitting next to you. You weren’t able to utter a word before he pressed his lips to yours gently and attentively, he cupped your face until you eventually pulled away from each other, to the sound of Scott whistling, Lydia and Allison squealing and making happy noises while Jackson rolled his eyes. “Now look who’s blushing” he teased, pulling you into his chest, knowing you’d want to hide it. “God Stilinski, some of us are trying to eat here” Jackson muttered, biting into an apple. “Why are you so bothered, I think they’re adorable” Allison said winking at you. “Yes Jackson, why are you so bothered?” Lydia continued while staring at him, concerned by his almost jealously. “Whatever” Jackson scoffed. Scott widened his eyes at Stiles and then did a beating heart gesture discreetly, to goad him on. “Uhm as I was saying earlier-” Stiles began nervously. You stopped looking at your precious food and met his beautiful brown eyes, they were slightly glazed and kept flickering, showing he was anxious. “This should be good” Jackson sniggered, earning him an elbow in the chest from Lydia. You laced Stiles’ hand with your own under the table, to reassure him that whatever he was about to say you weren’t going to laugh or judge him. “It’s sort of tradition when we go to away games that the players girlfriends uhm wear their jerseys” Stiles mumbled quietly. “And you wanted me to wear yours?” you asked. “Yeah, it’s stupid I know and if you don’t want to its completely ok” he said quickly, earning him another Scoff from Jackson. “Aww babe that’s so sweet, I’d love to wear it” you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug, taking in the scent of his cologne. You kissed him sweetly on the cheek, before continuing to eat your lunch, with a huge grin on your face.

“Is everyone ready now?” Coach Finstock asked, with his usual sarcastic tone. Luckily the school bus was big enough for the players and a few people from the school to ride together. The six of you sat in your usual seats; Jackson and Lydia together, Allison and Scott on the row behind them, with you and Stiles on the row behind them. To think, the last time you all sat on that school bus you and Stiles weren’t actually dating and it was filled with awkward silences every time you two accidently brushed hands or shoulders. This time Stiles spent the journey with his arm around you, as you both talked about anything and everything. When you were about ten minutes away he sifted though his gym bag and pulled out his practice lacrosse jersey. “I forgot to tell my dad to wash it before today, its ok if-” he began to say. “Stiles, I don’t care what it smells like. I’m wearing it because it’s yours and I want to show off the fact you’re my boyfriend” you smiled. “This is why I love you” he said, staring at you admiringly. You were taken back by this, you’d known Stiles and liked him since before you could remember but he’d never said he loved you. Before you could respond the bus came to a stop and everyone began standing up and getting off.

“Heyyy” you said, walking to the stands to join Lydia and Allison. You’d changed into Stiles’ lacrosse jersey but you had to shove your jacket on over the top because of how cold it was. “Welcome to the jersey gang” Allison laughed, referring to the two of them and the other players’ girlfriends, all wearing their boyfriend’s practice jerseys. After a while of watching Scott completely annihilate the other team, while competing with Jackson you were starting to get bored. That was until coach swapped Stiles with Greenburg half way through the match. “Omg Stiles is playing” you cheered, earing a smile from Scott who heard your enthusiasm and told Stiles. Stiles blew you a kiss as the whistle went to proceed. It was a while until Stiles actually got close to the ball, but even then her rarely threw it in the right direction. You took off your jacket and stood up, “Go on Stiles, you get a kiss for every ball you catch” you shouted, turning a few heads from the other school’s team. A minute later he caught the ball and automatically began to smile widely at you in the stands. “Stiles watch out” Scott called from across the field, right as he was tackled to the ground. “OOO” the crowd winced in unison. “You’ve got it babe, just walk it off” you tried to shout encouragingly. At the end of the match you ran over to the field and hugged your boyfriend, “Good job baby” you smiled as you quickly kissed him on the lips. “Are you kidding? I didn’t score one goal” he sighed. “That doesn’t matter, because you looked cute trying” you joked. “The one good thing is seeing you in my jersey” he grinned. “Yeah, I don’t think you’ll be getting this back anytime soon” you claimed. “About what I said earlier-” he said awkwardly. “It’s ok, because I love you too” you finished. “Really?” he asked in shock. “I always have” you said, pressing your lips to his, this time ignoring the chants from your friends. In that moment all that mattered was you and him.

I hope you enjoyed, requests are open but it may take a while because I have so much school work. Turn of post notifications if you want to be informed of my sporadic posting x

i’ve been thinking about what might’ve happened after the iconic swimming pool scene and i can’t stop laughing because imagine: 

  • even, who wears 38902 layers of clothing to stay warm, in only one, sopping wet, late at night, too freezing to move and ride the bike back 
    • attempting to but toppling over every time
    • isak going in front instead and even sitting behind him freezing cold but laughing so hard he can’t breathe 
    • he tries to use his God Beard to keep warm (does this make sense? no) 
  • and when they get to isak’s home, just hugging each other to stay warm as they stumble through the door, muffling their laughter (and failing), dripping wet and shivering 
  • isak struggling to get his shirt off bc it keeps sticking 
    • even offering to help 
    • isak turning red before nodding 
    • helping each other take off sopping wet clothes but closing their eyes bc they’re both a little bit bashful 
    • the help isn’t even really necessary, but it’s an excuse to be closer 
  • even has to ask for clothes bc isak is too distracted 
    • he gives him his favorite shirt (is the jesus shirt his favorite? it should be that’s a nice shirt)
    • even still has it 
  • eating together bc they’re probably starving 
  • even opening all the cabinets bc he’s curious, looking around isak’s room like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen 
  • making hot drinks to warm up
  • cuddling to warm up 
  • falling into bed and talking and laughing all night until the both of them fall asleep
Cold Woman

Characters – Sam x Reader

Summary – A drunken bet leads to some unexpected consequences.

Word Count – 2,713

Warnings – Being extremely stupid while drunk, possibly some claustrophobia-inducing scenarios

A/N – My dear friend, @impala-dreamer, hosted a fun writing challenge that she’s calling her Winchester Bunch Fic Challenge, where she took quotes from The Brady Bunch for us to use in SPN fic.  I got the prompt: “How about that! The light really does go off when you close the door!“

Originally posted by rustybaconshit

Your name: submit What is this?


You always said the stupidest things and came up with the dumbest ideas when you were drunk. Tonight was certainly no exception, and you knew it was completely your fault.  The scary thing was, you hadn’t even realized how much danger you’d been in.  It had started with some beers and then really snowballed after the whiskey and tequila came out.

Keep reading

“Artemis Fowl” would be such an amazing movie? Like it starts off with a voice over going all…

How does one describe Artemis Fowl? Various psychiatrists have tried and failed… 

And we see a rich boy wearing an expensive suit sitting by fire… we can’t see his face–just his back with that fancy Victorian chair of his. And he’s staring at his piles of GOLD. The voice over continues…

There is no doubt that Artemis is a child prodigy.  But why does someone of such brilliance dedicate himself to criminal activities? 

The boy stands up but we still can’t see his face. He walks towards the screen and the cam backs away and then suddenly the boy is trying to close the door. 

This is a question that can be answered by only one person.

And then the view goes upward and we finally see his pale face and he’s smiling deviously with his finger on his lips as if to say “Hush.”

And he delights in not talking.

The boy closes the door entirely and then it shows “Artemis Fowl” in friggin GOLD because that’s what the movie is all about. G O L D. And then it gives the audience the chills.

Mike’s room after El's disappearance

- Mike gets a nightlight after El disappears; not because he’s afraid of the dark, but because he’s determined to stay awake for hours after he’s told to go to bed, watching the light to see if it’ll flicker. it always does, which fills Mike with hope that maybe Eleven is out there somewhere.

- while she’s in the Upside Down, El always wanders into Mike’s room when she has a chance to rest. she sits on his bed, sensing when he’s there or not. she’ll never tell him, but during that time, she could feel everything he felt; all the anger and sadness and emptiness. she felt it too.

- before El disappears, Mike never slept with his door open or his window cracked. now, he never leaves them fully closed, hoping that one day she might just wander in. of course, she never does.

- as he grows and matures, he gets rid of many of his old toys - giving them away during garage sales and charity events. he can’t seem to part with his old dinosaur named Roary or Yoda figurine. the memories tied to them may be small, but they mean everything.

- Mike never got around to washing the sweatpants and sweatshirt El wore during her first few days in Hawkins. instead, he leaves them out in his dresser, folded neatly like they’re waiting for someone to put them on. sometimes, on the harder days, he picks them up and brings them to his face. even after months have passed, he swears he can smell El’s clean scent.

- on days when he breaks down, he sits in his closet with his legs pulled toward his chest and tears streaming down his face. during that time, he thinks about when he found El in the exact same state and it makes him want to pull his hair out. how could have ever left her alone in there? how could he leave her alone in the Upside Down? how could he do this to her?

- when he has nightmares, he can’t stand his room. waking up there alone makes him restless, so he often finds himself wandering down to the basement. more than once, Karen has found him in El’s old blanket fort, twisted under soft blankets with tears still frozen on his cheeks.

I’m so tired and stressed out right now, and I could just imagine Percival could be the same, and he’s working late again one night, and he’s just had enough, and he’s drinking scotch at his desk again because he just can’t get warm.

And somehow, Newt just always knows, and he comes knocking on his office door at two in the morning, and he looks as tired as Percival does. Newt shuts the door with a gentle click, and locks it, and Percival looks up and towards the clock and just curses and holds his head in his hands.

Newt clears his throat, and holds his suitcase close to his chest in both hands, and tells Percival that ‘If you can’t come to home, then home could come to you‘. So Newt sets the case down and open on a safe space of Percival’s floor, and reaches out a hand to Percival, and together they descend into the case.

And Percival is expecting Newt’s workshop, but instead, they find themselves in the loft area of a cosy one bedroom cabin. And Percy can see snow gently falling outside the window. It’s warm, the heat from a fireplace burning downstairs, and a gas lamp glowing next to the bed. And there is a large, plush, comfortable looking bed at their feet, and it’s flush on the ground with two piled mattresses, and reminds Percival of a nest.

And his whole body just aches to sink into those plush pillows and thick blankets.

“You can explore in the morning.” Newt slid his palms up his chest and around Percival’s neck, long and strong fingers working at the feeling of tight muscles and knots that he could feel there. “I thought that my little workshop was a bit too… well, unprepared for my new want to spend every night by your side. This is our own enclosure, it’s creature proof, which will most likely work out for the better. But then again, Niffler always seems to find a way. I thought this might be less stress inducing than waking tangled together in a coat with a Mooncalf asleep on your back.”

“You did this for me?” It was the sleep deprivation, it had to be, but Percival’s eyes seemed to glaze over, and he smiled, softly, before bowing his head to rest against Newt’s shoulder, shivering as his love’s fingers scratched therapeutically through the short hairs near the nape of his neck. “You are just so perfect. What did I do to deserve you.”

Newt doesn’t answer, just hummed in response as he gently slipped the blue scarf from around Percival’s neck. The director was already dressed down. He had already discarded his jacket and vest, still sitting on the coat rack in his office. Left was a crisp white shirt, rolled up at the sleeves to show off strong forearms. Suspenders and a wand holster, and dress pants and shoes. Percival was just the perfect package, and as much as Newt admired the aesthetic that a hard-at-work Percival displayed, he was asleep on his feet, and hardly ready for any kind of bed time fun.

“Come to bed, Percy.” Newt’s hands toyed with the buttons around Percival’s collar, slowly undressing his love, and sighing in slight disappointment but utter pleasure as Percy just muttered something against his shoulder, and waved his hand, and they were suddenly down to just their undergarments. Their clothes neatly folded on the dresser.

“Gods, I need sleep. I need you.”

Percival pressed slow and sleepy kisses to Newt’s shoulder, nuzzling his nose into the crook of his neck, and the younger man sighed in pleasure.

“Darling, you’re about to fall asleep on your feet. As much as I love you, this can wait till tomorrow.”

“Hmmm.”

Newt grinned in triumph, before pulling Percival towards the bed, pulling back the covers and playfully pushing the older man down onto the mattress. The effect was instantaneous, and Percival groaned in pleasure as his tired body sunk into the plush of the cushy mattress and the crisp white sheets.

“Ohhh my god. This is heaven.”

Newt fell to his knees and curled up into the bed, leaning over to cast a silent Nox charm on the lamp beside the bed. The room was silent, and in the distance, they could hear the sleepy sounds of Newt’s creatures, and Newt smiled as he went straight into Percival’s arms, drawn into their first slow and sweet and sleepy kiss for the morning.

Still in the kiss, Newt reached down and flipped the covers back over them, and groaned at the feeling of warm skin pressed against his own, and Percival’s long and elegant fingers teasing the waistband of his undergarments, and he very reluctantly pulled his lips away.

“Darling. Sleep.”

And he turned into his side, pressing his back against Percival’s chest, and the Auror got the hint, wrapping his arms around Newt and pulling him flush against his own body. Pressing his face against the back of Newt’s head, burying his nose into the clean scent of Newt’s curls.

“Hmmm, you spoil me, doll.”

Newt smiled at the term of endearment, and wiggled backwards, pressing more into Percival’s arms.

“I love you too, Percy.”

Soft puffs of breath against his neck, and Newt could feel that his love was already asleep. And he happily curled up against Percival’s heat, nuzzled his head into his new plush pillow, and let himself drift off to sleep.

——

@mockingatticus thank you for sending me lots of pictures of inside Newt’s case <3 @elletromil @karomel-02 @oichealainn @getinthefuckingjaeger Some sweetness for your day <3

The boss' darling

It starts as a joke. The auror department considered Newt Scamander one of the most adorable creatures that they’ve met. But after a few weeks of him being their consultant it became clear he was only for their boss.

At least that’s what it looks like. Because they’ve never seen Percival Graves act like he does when Newt is around. And before they notice they start to call him Graves’ darling. But it’s just a joke.

And, in their defense, that begins because Director Graves behavior changed after Scamander’s arrival.

He is less angry and grumpy when Newt’s around. He uses to carry the magizoologist in his arms when he falls asleep (and Newt falls asleep anywhere if he’s tired; cafeteria, garden or even over an auror’s shoulder). Graves takes him to his office and close the door, warning anyone near by what would happen to them if they dare to wake him up.

Director Graves also likes to take Newt out to eat or he brings him food himself, making sure the reddish hair wizard eats properly and he doesn’t miss any meal. Newt argues with him sometimes, assuring him he can take care of himself, but Graves prefers to ignore him.

And he has good reason to do it.

Because one day Newt scared the hell out of them.

It was almost New Year’s Eve, the magizoologist was talking with auror Goldstein about maticore’s venom. They all knew he wasn’t sleeping well because of the dark shadows below his eyes, but they had no idea he had forgotten to eat. They didn’t know he was that weak until Goldstein yelled his name, scared when Newt’s eyes closed. Fortunately, Graves was near them, speaking with Picquery, but he was keeping an eye on him (their boss was always looking at Newt) and appeared next to him just in time to catch him in his arms before he fell to the ground.

The healers told them he was going to be fine, he just needed food and sleep. They all were to see him when he finally woke up, just a quick visit to make him know they cared. They left eventually, when the healers insisted, but Director Graves… He didn’t leave Newt’s side and even growled at the few people who were brave enough to try to convince him otherwise.

They weren’t successful of course. He looked angry because ‘It seems, Mr Scamander, you don’t care about your own health. How could’ve you forgotten to eat?’ but they knew better to see all that attitude was just to hide the fact that he was deeply worried.

Another thing they start to notice is their boss seems awfully incapable of keeping his hands to himself when Newt’s around. There’s always a hand touching the wizard’s shoulder, fingers 'fixing’ the magizoologist bowtie, hands cupping a face full of freckles, arms around a waist just to prevent the other one from 'falling’. 'Be careful, Newt, this path is particularly slippery,’ which is a total lie and they all know it, but their boss looks happy and Newt doesn’t seem to mind.

And don’t let them start about his boss jealousy, because boy he is jealous. He can’t help but to get involved in any conversation Newt is in, because he can’t stand the magizoologist paying too much attention to someone that’s not him. Nor he can’t help but glaring and snarling at anyone who looks at Scamander like they’re interested.

And that poor poor soul that tried to flirt with Newt that day. It was one of the British aurors that came to discuss of international security with Madam Picquery. He recognized Newt because he was Theseus’ colleague. He asked about Newt’s work and they all know the magizoologist gets very excited when someone asks about his creatures. And he smiles and giggles with the British auror and the man looks charmed (because why wouldn’t he be, Newt’s truly adorable).

“Theseus didn’t tell me you were so cute,” he comments and Newt blushes prettily.

And that was the last thing they heard him say because he died that day.

Okay no, he didn’t, but it was a close call.

“Newt, I think Miss Goldstein is looking for you,” Director Graves says and the magizoologist nods and walks away quickly. The British auror wants to follow, but is stopped by Graves.

They don’t know if was something their boss said or just the murderous look on his face, but the auror paled suddenly and he never tried to talk with Newt again.

The poor guy.

So their joke begins, they don’t even remember who came up with it, but they don’t care, because somehow it feels so natural to call Newt the boss’ darling that some days they even forget it’s a joke.

But then some messes up and does it while Graves is still in the room with them. They all get petrified, while watching their boss blinking in surprise.

“What did you say?”

Kenneth looks up in horror, realising his own mistake.

“I’m terribly sorry, Sir.” He mumbles.

“You called Newt my 'darling’?”

“I didn’t mean… It was a-”

But Director Graves doesn’t seem to care, he looks like he’s forgotten they’re more wizard in the room with him because he starts to smile to himself.

“It’s okay. No harm done,” he assures, shocking everyone. “Now… Where were we?”

So… The rumor spreads and they all start to think that maybe Newt is, in fact, Graves’ darling.

Until Queenie tells them the truth.

“No, they’re not dating,” she informs.

And honestly it makes them feel disappointed because now they’re sure that their boss is pining and Newt is completely oblivious to everything.

Well… there must be something they can do about it.

So they tell Newt and hope for the best.

The magizoologist face turns completely red and he looks like he doesn’t quite believes them. He’s about to argue when Percival Graves walks in the room.

“What’s going on here?” He frowns at them, but his irritation changes to worry when he looks at Newt. He approaches him and cups his face in his hands. “Are you okay?”

They’re not sure if is something in the way he looks at Newt or in his voice, but suddenly the magizoologist eyes’ wide with realization right then and there.

So he smiles at Graves, a beautiful soft smile, and leans in to kiss him. The kiss is quick, because Graves is still in shock to respond so Newt steps back, thinking he’s made a mistake.

Director Graves grins like he just finished all the paperwork for the next ten years and tooks Newt by the waist and kisses him with all he has.

But he stops after a moment, suddenly remembering his aurors are still in there. Newt must have remembered it too, because he hides his face in Graves’ neck.

“Will you be standing there all they? Are you planning on returning to WORK anytime soon?”

That’s their cue to leave and they do with pleasure because their mission is accomplished and honestly they both look so cute together.

So they leave Director Graves and his darling alone.