nothing-is-amusing

A Court of Differences

ACOMAF:

“I missed you,” he said between kisses. “I went out of my mind.”

That was all I needed to hear. Until-

“I need to ask you some questions.”

ACOWAR:

“Do you want to go over what happened at the Spring Court?” I asked, voice raw, as I studied my mate’s face.

No amusement, nothing but that predatory intensity, focused on my every breath. “There are other things I’d rather do first.”

The Train

Pairing: Y/N and Harry

Word Count: 4201

Prompt: Y/N walks in, and Harry notices she’s wearing yellow again, this time it’s a yellow sweater with a pair of dark skinny jeans and brown ankle boots, her hair is pulled back into a pony tail with a white scrunchie with little smiling suns and he swears that he has to squint to look at her. “Oh! I know you-you’re the guy from the train,” Y/N beams, “Harry, right?” she sets down the tray of muffins.

 “I didn’t tell you my name,” Harry snaps.

 Y/N pouts, “well yeah, but I’m also not stupid,” she says. 

“Are you joining us today Harry?” the man asked, “I’m Seth, I run the group.”

“Why else would I fucking be here,” Harry grumbled.

 Y/N grabs a muffin, ignoring Harry’s sour attitude, “here, they’re made with love,” she smiled, holding out the blueberry muffin.

 “Fuck off,” Harry says. He watches as her smile fades and the glint in her eyes seems to disappear, for a split second Harry feels like a dick, but then he realizes he doesn’t care and Y/N should just shove the muffin up her ass.


Harry was annoyed.

It really hadn’t been his day at all. His morning was terrible, he woke up next to a blonde and he tried really hard to remember her name-only to fail. When he asked her to leave she insisted on making breakfast, to which Harry responded with “feel free to grab something and leave” and then he proceeded to shower. When he got out, the unknown girl stood in his kitchen making herself a smoothie and toast. Her red lips in a pout, “come on, you can’t be in that big of a rush,” Harry ended up calling security, she was crazy.

When he went into the studio he was blank, the songs he did come in with were rejected and he couldn’t find the energy or muse to write another one. He was out of inspiration, nothing amused Harry anymore. He found himself not enjoying the things he used to love, drinks seemed to be the only thing that made him feel something (and it was only for a little bit). He didn’t enjoy being surrounded by his friends and family, his love for writing was slipping through the cracks, and his energy was fading.

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Today’s meta that no one asked for: how utterly Dipper and Mabel defy the chosen trope at every turn. Let me tell you folks I am so happy that Dipper’s birthmark meant ABSOLUTELY NOTHING like it never stops amusing me. So often we get the narrative of the mysterious birthmark in a specific shape. The Birthmark of Destiny trope can be found all over the place and it kind of… seemed like that’s where they could have been going with because why else give this kid an actual CONSTELLATION on his forehead but nope. It’s just a weird coincidence. I mean yeah we have Journal 3 and the Choose Your Own Adventure book and any future spin-off comics or movies that COULD reveal things but tbh I’m willing to call it: Dipper Pines is an entirely normal guy who happens to have weird discoloration on his forehead in a very specific shape.

And I love it so much. Both these kids are so NORMAL. I mean…

Originally posted by pinetreepreserve

Normal-ish. They’re pretty big weirdos.

But neither of them are superpowered. Dipper’s smart and determined, Mabel’s creative and kind, they’re both brave, but these traits don’t make them Special. They’re both special, but neither is chosen. I mean heck, we’ve got the whole zodiac thingy and some of them are symbols super associated with the character and some of them are…. oh Pacifica happens to be wearing a llama sweater today and Wendy is an ice cold badass. AND THEN THAT ENDS UP NOT WORKING ANYWAY (thanks Stan twins). 

This show isn’t about destiny. It’s a show about family. It’s about making choices and staying determined even in the face of impossible odds. It’s about love and working together. Dipper’s birthmark is just a birthmark. Mabel and Dipper are just kids. Their achievements come through their determination and refusal to give up, and that is a far more interesting narrative to me than any chosen arc.

Fire (Bucky Barnes x Reader) Request! 🙌🏽

A/N: Hey y'all! This was sent in by the lovely anon who requested some hardcore angry sex. I kinda changed it up a lil bit because the original one i wrote I lost cuz I didn’t save it and I couldn’t get on tumblr to re look at the request! 😭 but I hope you like it! ENJOY! - Delilah ❤ 

Request: “I’m begging you, full out on my knees, to make a smutty bucky one-shot that is just total hate sex. Like him and the reader just dont get along, she thinks hes too brooding and a total try hard, and he thinks shes a pampered bitch. and then one night when theyre fighting just BAM! hate sex but then they realize they actually like each other but none of them will admit it ;)) (there can be a part two, if you want, maybe,) I love your writing.”

Warnings: Extremely NSFW. Rough sex. Choking. Swearing. Angst. Hate sex. M/F.

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Transparant Crystalline Solid (2)

Bucky Barnes x (enhanced)Reader

Notes: (the usual) troubled pasts, swearing, smut, fluff, angst/heartbreak.

A/N: All new! I had inspiration slap me straight across the face, and here we are! This one might hurt a little, but y’all know me, I’m a sucker for a happy ending.

Summary: Bucky has charm, looks, a great smile, and he knows how to talk to a lady. The thing is, he does know it. Bucky’s a womaniser, there’s no doubt about it. But when he lays eyes upon the newest addition to the team, he might’ve found a reason to change his ways. Unfortunately, he knows he’s a coward, and he knows change isn’t easy. Lying.. is so much easier.

Ice: frozen water, a brittle transparent crystalline solid.

Originally posted by daniel-wellington

Natasha snorts at Bucky’s story, “My sweet soldier, she’s not called Ice Queen for nothing”

Bucky cocks an eyebrow, “Ice Queen?”

Natasha nods, “she’s really impressive. I’ve seen her fight Steve, gave him a run for his money. I heard she came from Asgard before she got here”

“Asgard?” Bucky gapes at his friend and she rolls her eyes.

“Are you just gonna repeat everything I say? Yes, Asgard. Apparently, she tripped into the multiverse by accident, and ended up in Yotemheim. She was attacked by frost-giants, before Thor and his comrades saved her. They tried to heal her from her.. ‘affliction’ but nothing worked. Even Odin wasn’t strong enough to help her. They say she nearly froze over all of Asgard before they decided to help her control her ability, it was the only way to contain her”

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isn’t it fun to remember that one day Even and Isak will be cooking breakfast in the morning and listening to the radio and then “I’m Yours” will come on. And instead of the panicked, queasyguiltyawful feeling Isak used to get from hearing that song after being told that it was so fucking gay, he feels nothing but dethatched amusement and a sense of nostalgia. And then Even will start humming the lyrics to it and Isak won’t be able to help but hop up on the counter and peck his on the lips and hide his face in his neck and then kiss him some more

(because secretly, he’s always wanted to kiss the love of his life to this song)

Friends

Lance walked into the room squinting and walked right into the wall.
The others who were already sitting at the table for breakfast looked up at him doing nothing to hide their amusement.
“You ok there Lance?” Shiro asked trying not to laugh.
“Yeah just the last mission kinda wrecked my contacts and I left my glasses on Earth.” Lance shrugged as he felt his way to his seat.
“I didn’t know you needed glasses.” Pidge looked up over the top of her own fake pair.
“Yeah my vision is like super bad. I’m legally blind without my contacts in,” Lance said in the vague direction of Pidge.
“We can not have a blind Paladin Lance, is there any way to recreate your glasses?” Allura asked.
Lance shook his head “I don’t know my prescription and even if I did it would be nearly impossible to make them right.” Lance sighed looking down.
Keith hated seeing his self named rival look so defeated. “Maybe the space mall has some… you said there was an Earth store.”
Lance immediately peeked up “yeah your right!”
“I bet if the guy had a cow he would have some glasses.” Pidge offered proud that Lance seemed to brighten up with every word.
“Even if they don’t I’m sure Pidge could hook something up in your visor?” Shiro added, Lance was grinning by now.
Then Hunk walked in.
“What’s going on?” He asked.
“Lance’s needs new glasses.” Keith explained.
“Nah he doesn’t, I always carry a pair on my so we don’t have a repeat of the great night out disaster of first semester.”
Lance looked over at the blur that was his best friend. “You really have my glasses! Oh Hunk your the best.”
Hunk chuckled as he produced the dark blue glasses from his pocket and placed them on the end of Lance’s nose.
“No problem, after all it’s what friends are for.”

new beginnings.

2,402 words | fluff
meeting at a coffee shop au + shin hoseok

author’s note: ramen shop owner!wonho is a concept that most definitely needed to be written. and who knows? perhaps i might even take requests for this~ 

Originally posted by wonhontology


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anonymous asked:

can u talk about phil's pressure to be traditionally masc + his attitude towards dan's androgyny

Before I even answer, if you haven’t seen oqua’s Phil+gender roles compilation you should probably watch that first: (link)

Phil loves his parents. He makes it a priority to visit them regularly. He quotes his mother constantly, judges things by her standards. It’s very obvious that he as a person has been shaped hugely by his love for family - and his concept of what is right or wrong, normal or not normal, allowed or not allowed, are similarly shaped by them. The compilation above is not even two minutes but it drives home a lot of things that were normalized to Phil growing up. Boys don’t do girly things; boys don’t color their hair; boys use tools and fix things; boys don’t wear girl bonnets; boys don’t have coin purses; even toddlers picking up a girl’s hat in a store is embarrassing enough to be a story that makes him cover his face and blush over twenty years later.  

If he’d had less of a loving home, and less supportive and encouraging parents, Phil not fitting into what he was obviously coached from birth to be what boys are supposed to be might have caused resentment or been more of an outwardly toxic environment. But because Phil did actually have supportive, loving parents he seems to have grown up with these things being reinforced constantly and just relating himself to being a disappointment for not living up to them, and still on some level aspiring to be those things, or subconsciously putting distance between himself and the possibility of doing some things that he might in his mind know that are the exact sorts of things his family would have mocked or disapproved of in someone else as he was growing up.

Which is why I think Phil finds it a lot easier to encourage Dan to do/express some of the things Phil might like to, but is prevented by doing from that kind of anxiety. Even outside of the family influence growing up, I think Phil’s brand of anxiety does play a part in it. This is one of those areas where I perceive them as similar but also quite different: Dan battles with things in his own head, Phil battles with the kind of impression he’s making on others. Dan can wear what he wants and as long as he’s living up to what he expects of himself, he can find confidence in that. I think Phil is quite the opposite, he toes a much safer line when it comes to people’s opinion of him and that kind of attitude inspires repression. (There’s a chance that Phil’s repression also hindered Dan a little, but Dan seems to have had the opposite upbringing as Phil in this regard - he had a grandmother who encouraged him to do sing-a-longs to Barbie Girl, a dad who seemed nothing but fondly amused at Dan announcing his name was Lara, etc. He struggles with many things, but making his own mind up about what he’s comfortable with and charging ahead no matter if it makes people talk is not one of them.)

Essentially: Phil is uncomfortable when people around him are uncomfortable. If he grew up with his parents/family being uncomfortable with overly feminized men (his grandad saying boys shouldn’t dye their hair) or even just treating them with humor (toddler Phil wearing a bonnet being the ‘most embarrassing memory’ his mother could come up with) or as something not to be taken seriously, that would have had a massive impact on his self-perception and comfort with being less than masculine. I think even as he’s coming to internal realizations about what could/should be allowed for guys to do, it’s going to be extremely difficult for him to apply that kind of ease to himself and there’s a decent chance he just never completely will. 

Dangerous Obsession.

Request from anon:An imagine where the Avengers (from CACW) and Y/N go out to a restaurant. Hydra wants to eliminate her so they send Rumlow undercover to poison her drink. She is also Bucky’s girlfriend and Rumlow has an obsession with her but also wants to kill her because she is with Bucky. Anyway once she gets poisoned Bucky gets angry and holds Y/N while help comes. While the others find out it was Rumlow and go after him. But things end well so it’s all good. Sorry this is long but thank you!

The Avengers x Reader, Bucky x Reader

Words: 2,109

Warnings: Violence, language, angst, mention of injury and threat to life. Think that’s everything!

Disclaimer: First GIF was made by me any others used were not so all credit goes to their creators <3

Clouds of perfume hung in the air of your room as you finished getting yourself ready for the dinner you had all been invited to. You weren’t entirely convinced that it was a good idea for the whole Avengers team to be heading out of the tower but when Tony was paying how could you refuse?

“Doll I hate to sound like an old ma-“

“Buck you are an old man.”

Your boyfriend sent a playful scowl in your direction as he sat on the edge of the bed you shared before grabbing one of the pillows and launching it at you. With quick reflexes you caught the item before it could hit you and you poked your tongue out at him in a smug way.

“Anyway as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted…is there a reason as to why you are drowning yourself in that perfume?”

You immediately stopped spraying once he spoke, pursing your lips slightly, before placing the bottle down onto your dresser.

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humble beginnings pt. 3 | tom holland

part one  part two

summary: the hard part’s over; you’re already apart of the family

a/n: this part’s more focused on tom and his feelings for “you”! harrison is my favorite third wheel. also i’m a sucker for parallelism. oh! and let me know if you want to be tagged :)

When Tom wakes up, it’s to the sound of glass mugs clinking together and cabinet doors opening and closing.

The first thing he notices isn’t Harrison smirking at him from the kitchen, but the massive crick in his neck and how the weight of your legs draped across his lap feels strangely intimate. You’re sprawled along the length of the couch, blanket covering  your sleeping figure while Tom occupies one corner, legs propped up on the coffee table in front of him.

His eyes burn from watching too much late night TV in the dark, but if it meant having you back in England, he’d watch as many movies and as many TV series as you wanted.

Gingerly, he moves your legs from his lap and onto the couch, taking a moment to appreciate you. A fond smile tugs at his lips as he realizes that you’ve gotten so pretty. Granted, you’ve always been pretty - both he and Harrison had agreed on that years ago - but something about seeing you so relaxed and comfortable, asleep on his couch, sends tiny goosebumps up and down his arms.

“Have fun last night?”

Harrison’s slightly groggy voice does nothing to hide his amusement as he attempts to shield his smile with the lip of his mug. Tom spins on his heel so fast, Harrison is vaguely worried that he’ll get whiplash.

“When did you get home?”

Harrison hums before setting his cup down to pour Tom a glass, shit-eating grin never faltering, “Around three. You two were already knocked out by then, though.”

Making his way to the kitchen after tossing you one last sidelong glance, Tom stretches his stiff muscles before taking the cup of tea with a mumbled thanks.

“What’s that smile for?” Tom asks, wary laugh on his lips.

To that, Harrison shrugs noncommittally and raises his eyebrows, “Nothing.”

Before Tom can question him further, Harrison’s gaze averts to the couch, where you’re sitting up, dazed and yawning. Despite your bedhead and slept in clothes, Tom can’t help but find you absolutely charming.

The thought catches him off guard for a second, but after a moment’s contemplation he decides he’s known he’s loved you all this time; he just kept shoving his feelings to the back of his mind for the sake of your friendship.

When Harrison addresses you, he doesn’t miss the adoration in his best friend’s eyes. Harrison knows him too well to not pick up on it. No matter how subtle or sly Tom tries to be, his weakness has and will always be you, and that’s a fact that Harrison is more than happy to live with; part of him is incredibly surprised neither of you have acted on your feelings yet.

But instead of meddling, he resigns himself to teasing;  he’s an avid believer that when you’re ready to be together, you will be and he’ll be the first to congratulate you two.

“Morning, love. It’s good to have you back.”

Tom doesn’t miss the subtle way Harrison emphasizes the pet name, nor does he miss the smug grin on his lips, poorly concealed by his teacup; it’s like Harrison knows.

He probably does, Tom thinks.

Your body, not quite adapted to the eight hour time difference, feels achy and tired, but your mind is alert as it registers Harrison’s voice. The familiar sound is like a shot of adrenaline as you shoot up from the couch cushions and run into the kitchen, crashing into Harrison’s solid body like a freight train.

“Haz! I missed you,” you pull away and hold him at arms length, assessing his bewildered expression. Forcing your lips down in a pout, you playfully pinch his arm, “You definitely didn’t call as much as you should have.”

Tom watches, contended smile gracing his lips, as the two of you bicker back and forth; he finds himself really liking how the apartment sounds more like a home with you in it. Speaking of home…

“Mum and Dad are coming over later with the boys, is that okay with you?” You turn your attention to Tom when he continues, “They wanna see you.”

Your insides melt at the mention of the rest of the Hollands; when you were growing up, they were your second family. If you weren’t at home with your own, you were with Tom, playing with his brothers in the backyard until after dark.

Stealing Harrison’s mug from his hands to take a sip - “Hey!” - you grin wholeheartedly, “Only if Tessa comes, too.”

And it’s in that moment when Tom knows

His parents love you. His brothers love you. Harrison loves you. Hell, even Tessa adores you.

His next thought kind of leaves him a little dazed, but he feels so right thinking it.

I have to tell her.

He feels like the world’s biggest sap when he looks at you, and he doesn’t even try to hide the tenderness in his eyes. He can’t - nor does he really want to - stop his hand from moving to cup your neck, and he feels his heart do somersaults when your immediate reaction is to lean into his touch.

“She wouldn’t miss it.”

Tom’s hand is almost as warm as your heart as you feel it nearly beat out of your chest. Your worries about losing him because of the way you feel or because of the thousands of miles that separate your homes are completely destroyed; you feel a little silly for even thinking he’d ever leave you. An effortless smiles splits your lips when it finally dawns on you to take the leap.

I have to tell him.

Both of you are snapped out your trances when Harrison clears his throat before loudly taking a sip - when did he take his cup back? - of his tea. Tom pulls away so fast it’s as if your skin is scalding.

Which isn’t far from the truth; your face feels like it’s on fire.

The three of you stand awkwardly in the kitchen before Harrison offers you an out, “Actually, can you help me? There’s this girl I’ve been talking to, but I think she’s mad at me and something tells me it’s because of something I said.”

He starts walking towards his room, and you follow without hesitation; anything to get you out of that mess.

“I bet, if you called me more, you wouldn’t have said something stupid to piss her off.”

Harrison opens the door to his room for you, quipping, “How long are you gonna give me shit for that?”

And as you reply with “as long as it takes to make you call more often,” Harrison turns toward Tom with a wink.

When Tom is sure you’re far enough into Harrison’s room, he sighs and slumps against the counter top.

“Oh, my God.”

He feels wound up and relieved at the same time. On one hand, he almost kissed you, but on the other, when he thinks of you spending time with his family and getting along so well with his best friend - his other best friend, you’d always insist - it feels so right.

part four


tags: @emrysaaryn @hufflepuffholland @apollos-love @davros2004 @muffinfangirl28 @starkintcrn @hiddlesjunkie @ladymercenarywithamouth @lupinlys @quacksontommy @brokenanxiety @songasold@fireismysaftey@siennarossi @dumpsterofsin

What Do You Mean We’re Out of Money!?

Here you go @azlinne ! Hope you enjoy this, it’s my first attempt at writing several egos in a prompt! Tried to make it funny and light-hearted! I had to retype this on mobile, so please ignore any grammar or spelling problems :)

“We’re out of money? What do you mean we’re OUT OF MONEY?!”

All of the egos around the table flinched when Dark’s aura shot out and filled the room with intense feeling of dread and fear. Silver, the Jims, and Bing were already hiding under the table to avoid the demon’s stare. Dr. Iplier, Ed, Bim, and the Google upgrades were hanging their heads, clearly intimidated by Dark’s display of anger. The younger egos, Yanderiplier, King, and Artie, were in the hallway outside of the office, and even they flinched at Dark’s harsh tone. The only ones in the room who could hold their ground against Dark were the original Google, the Host and Wilford.

If anything Wilford seemed to be enjoying the show. He did nothing to hide his amusement at Dark’s fury, and he shrugged casually to infuriate the ego more.

“Mark called today and said we used up all of our funds, and that he wouldn’t give us any more until the end of the month.” Dark’s shell cracked, and the egos closest to him tried to subtly moved to the other end of the table.

“How did this happen? Google, you were meant to keep track of our financial activities.” Dark turned on Google, and the android glitched under the pressure. Bing peeked up from under the table and stuck his tongue out at Google, but he hid again when Dark turned his glare to him.

“I check on our finances twice a week, and we had more than enough funds to last a few months when I last checked. That was two days ago, and I did not withdraw any money in this time. Someone must have gained access to our account and used the money.” Google stared at Wilford accusingly, and the pink ego gasped mockingly. He put a hand on his heart and faked a pained look.

“Googly, you hurt me, but I’ve stolen that access code months ago. And it wasn’t me, I don’t use money. I just take, you all know this.” The egos all nodded in agreement; yeah, that made sense. When was the last time Wilford pay for anything? Never, most likely.

“So if it wasn’t Wilford…then who was it?” It was one of the Jims who spoke up, though nobody knew which one it was. Neither Jim made any move to come out from under the table, but it was good question.

“Host, you know who it was, right?” Dr. Iplier turn to his friend, but he was shocked to see the Host was smiling. “The Host is aware of who the guilty party is, but he decides he will leave it to the group to discover. The Host believes this will be an entertaining meeting after all.” He continues to narrate, though he speaks under his breath so the others can debate the issue. Dark growls in annoyance, but eventually leans back into his chair. He keeps his head high and stared down condescendingly at the egos around him.

“Fine. The further this goes on, the worse the punishment will be. I suggest you don’t leave me waiting, I am growing impatient.” The group of egos began looking around the table, wondering which one of them was the guilty party. The Host and Wilford were the only ones who looked unbothered by the situation, which frustrated Dark to no end. It was Silver who spoke up next, from under the table.

“C-Can’t we see what th-the person bought? That might t-tell us who took the money?” The four androids were already shaking their heads, and it was Green who spoke up. “No, Mark already took away our access to the account. He’s also not answering our messages, so we can’t expect any help from him.” Dr. Iplier frowned and stood up from the table.

“I swear I didn’t take the money, I’m sure Host can vouch for me on this. I have patients I need to attend to and-” The doctor yelped when a knife was suddenly thrown at his head, missing by mere inches and landing in the wall behind him. He glared at Wilford, who was giggling madly and twirling another knife in his hand. “Wilford, what the fuck!?”

“Nobody leaves until we figure this out. Hosty was right, this is going to be fun!” Wilford sat criss-cross on the table, placing his head in his hands and waiting for something exciting to happen. Dr. Iplier slowly sat back down in his seat, keeping a close eye on the knife still in Wilford’s grip.

“The Host nods his head and vouches for his good friend, Dr. Iplier. He is not responsible for taking the money.” The Doctor smiled at his friend, and the Host resumed his quiet narrations. “Well, whoever took the money spent over two thousand in the span of two days.” It was Red who inputted this information, and Wilford gave an impressed whistle. That was a lot of money, even he knew that.

“It was probably Ed! He’s always trying to make money!” Bing poked his head out again and glared at the salesman, who punched the table in outrage. “How dare you accuse Ed Edgar of stealing! I earn all my money through my sales; by the way, my son is still up on the table for anyone interested!” The egos groaned as Ed shamelessly promoted his business. Google turn the Bing with narrowed eyes; the two androids despised each other.

“Ed Edgar is not intelligent enough to have stolen all of that money. In most situations, it is the guilty party that points fingers first. How do we know it wasn’t you who took the money, perhaps to try and one up me? You’re pathetic.” Bing ripped off his glasses, and his golden eyes glowed in anger at the android.

“I-I don’t think Bing would do that. Besides, he’s not very good with keeping secrets. He would’ve told someone what he did by now, right?” It was Silver who spoke up shakily, and Bing high-fived him gleefully. “Yeah, maybe it was one of your clones. You guys are always getting new equipment for your labs.”

“For the last time, we are upgrades, not clones, you idiot!” Dark watched the interaction with defeated eyes; they weren’t getting any answers soon. He would’ve intervened already, but he was beginning to get a headache just from watching them argue. He feels like he’s already aged three years from witnessing the stupidity taking place in front of him.

“Alright, so Bing, the Googles, Ed, Wilford, and I have already claimed we didn’t take the money. That leaves the Jims, Silver, and Bim…so which of you four was it?” Doctor Iplier narrowed his eyes, and he reached a leg and kicked Silver; the “hero” cried out in pain.

“Well it w-wasn’t me! It’s not like I could even type on a computer, my gloves are too big!” Wilford tilted his head like a confused puppy as he stared at the ego with disgust. “Do you not take that suit off? How do you shower?”

“T-That’s not the point! Point is, I didn’t take the money!” Google nodded his head in agreement. “As I said with Ed, Silver is not nearly intelligent enough to access the accounts without our knowing. That leaves the guilty party to the Jims and…Bim?”

All of the egos looked over at Bim when Google finished his statement in a questioning tone. They saw Bim, who looked to be sweating bullets, had been slowly pushing his chair back from the table as the arguments had been going on. Google raised an eyebrow at the ego.

“Bim…did you take the money?” The TV-show host blinked at his fellow egos before he took off, pushing open the door and sprinting down the hall. They could hear the younger egos crying out as Bim ran them over in his escape.

All of the egos were frozen for a second, staring at each other and waiting for someone to make the first move. It was Google, who screamed after Bim and chased him down; the other Googles were right on his tail and yelling after the ego as well.

“Oh, this is gonna be good!” Wilford giggled, pulling out his pistol and following the Googles out the door, pink smoke drifting behind him obnoxiously.

“Wilford, no guns!” Dr. Iplier ordered as he ran out of the room, and he was followed by Bing and Ed, who were more than eager to see some action. Silver and the Jims slipped out from under the table and ran in the opposite direction to avoid the drama.

This left Dark and the Host alone in the office.

The Host was laughing now, and despite his headache, Dark couldn’t help but join in. The Host had been right…that meeting was rather entertaining. He was still going to strangle Bim the second he got his hands on him, and his headache was getting on his nerves; but it was amusing to watch him being chased around the building by a group of psychotic egos.

“The Host believes he and Dark should not miss the free show. The Host extends a hand out to his friend and asks if he wishes to see what happens next.” Dark smirked and took the Host’s offered hand.

“I would be delighted.”

Sam: I think everyone knows that she’s got a terrific sense of humor but she’s a terrible giggler, she corpses all the time and it’s got to the point now that if I want to get out of a scene or just you know make a stop, I can just give her a little look and she’s gone. She’s great fun to work with I’m so lucky.

-People Now 2015

Sam: Most recently we were shooting like one of the last episodes and it was a very serious moment, […] and the camera’s on me, and Caitriona just every time was just corpsing and laughing the whole time. And she doesn’t help me at all. She just stands there openly laughing in my face and it’s difficult to work with her, so I’m gonna get her sacked.

Cait: You know, we goof around on set, but at the end of the day it’s work. You’re only allowed to mess around for so long before you start getting dirty looks from people. I don’t know if we’re a fun bunch. We laugh at nothing. Nothing amuses us. We’re like the Seinfeld episode. We don’t need anything actual to happen; we just amuse ourselves anyway

-People’s choice 2016

Cait: It’s always a lot of fun. Sam and I usually descend into complete adolescence, either hit each others with things or just do stupid voices. That happens a lot.

-Starz interview 2014

Imagine being in a relationship with Chris.

A/N: Take this as a sequel to ‘Imagine falling in-love with Chris’. Also this was inspired by Taylor Swift’s ‘Ours’, which was a request from @lapetitsyrene quite a while ago. So here it is, Jet. (Finally, right? 😂) Enjoy! ❤️  

Monday mornings were perpetually bad, especially after exceptional Sundays with Chris. It’d been a year since you officially became a couple and things between the two of you were still as good as it’d been on your first, second, and third dates. The flames of romance and passion were effulgent; the level of strength of your relationship described as incandescent. The longer you thought about Chris, the wider your smile became. There were a few reasons as to why he was on your mind: one) you were that knee-deep in-love with the man; two) you were using your Minnie Mouse travel mug, to which he had a matching Mickey Mouse one; three) you were drinking the coconut chai tea McKenna Grace recommended to him which he then recommended to you. You didn’t know when it happened, but you’d become a half of one of those co-dependent couples whose lives were intertwined to the point where you couldn’t even be in an elevator with strangers without imagining what it’d be like with Chris there.

The silence was deafening in the elevator; you were the only one not in a suit of some kind possessed with a vacant stare. You thought about what Chris would say if he were stuck in that uncomfortable elevator with you and stifled your giggle by biting down on the rim of your travel mug. It was an accurate assumption of his that your job, though taxing, was better than “being stuck in an office doing that nine-to-five thing like a ritual.” Perhaps it did occasionally take away the excitement of going to a new place, but at least you were going to a new place. You had opportunities to take in the fresh ocean breeze while swaying with the palm trees, and you’d rather do that than breathe a stale air in a stuffy office standing still next to a water cooler. You still had to drop in at your publisher’s office every now and again, but you already had it better than most people both professionally and romantically.

You had to admit though it was hard to enjoy your romantic privileges sometimes. You were dating Chris Evans, an A-Lister who many thought you didn’t deserve. In your field, your success and stature would’ve been on par with Chris’ in his. You were highly successful and thoroughly respected, even renowned enough to be invited to certain A-List events. Yet in the eyes of his fans and the Hollywood media, you were still a nobody. You were reminded of that every time you walked by the magazines in a bookstore, or a grocery shop. You’d see the headlines: “Chris Evans dating out of his comfort zone, a travel journalist?”, “Chris Evans’ new girlfriend spotted with another man!”, “Chris Evans attends the People’s Choice awards alone, was it out of Y/N Y/L/N’s league?” It was frustrating to have a relationship feel like it was on trial, and this was a relationship with an actor who stayed out of the limelight as much as possible. What would it have been like for the others? You could never just be, there was always someone lurking, waiting for a mistake to be made so they could make their case to a jury of people who had nothing better to do. It wasn’t always easy, but you and Chris made it work. No matter the verdict, the choice was clear: it was you and him against the world.

You were fortunate in other areas, like how Chris wasn’t the kind of guy who had bad breakups. You had to admit when you first agreed to go out with him, you were a little worried about being dragged into an encounter with one of his star-studded exes. But so far, so good. All those rumors and warnings about how the ghosts from his past were waiting to jump out at your with their lipgloss smiles did nothing but amuse you now. The love was yours, it wasn’t for anyone to speculate. If there was doubt, the two of you would sit and talk. The relationship was important to the both of you, important to the point that you even ignored your father’s snide comments about his tattoos. But Chris knew your father liked him despite that, so he said nothing either. It was fairly obvious how much your parents adored Chris, just like it was how much his parents loved you. Things were going to last with him, there was no doubt there.

Chris pushed himself off his car when you walked out of your apartment building. He smiled as soon as he caught you in his sights. “Good morning, beautiful.” He called then laughed at your shocked expression. You had no expectation to see him today as Mondays were usually chock-blocked with work meetings for both of you. “Hi,” one of his eyebrow quirked along with the corners of his mouth as he pulled you in for a kiss. Your arms immediately made their way around his neck  and you pulled your body flushed against his. “How are you?” He whispered, resting his forehead against yours.

“Wondering if I can still breathe after that kiss,” you responded then giggled when he smiled. “What are you doing here?” You asked, pulling away from him. “I thought you said you had a meeting today, shouldn’t you be halfway there?”

He glanced at his watch before answering, “three quarters of the way there, but I had to come see you first.” You bit the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from squealing at how adorable he was. “I wanted to ask you to join me for dinner tonight at the Van Heusen Steakhouse, seven-thirty if you don’t already have plans.”

“You couldn’t just text me?”

“I could, but I couldn’t do this…” He trailed off, dipping his head to meet your lips again. “And I’d give anything to do that,” he winked as he pulled away. You giggled and playfully shoved him, making him laugh. “So dinner, can I come pick you up at seven-thirty?” You nodded. “Awesome, there’s something really important that I need to ask you tonight.” You felt your heart skip a beat at that, then completely stop when he admitted “I’m actually kind of nervous” with a soft chuckle.

“Did you freak all your other girlfriends out too, or am I the exception?”

“What do you mean?” His innocence made you scowl. “What?” He laughed. “What did I say, Y/N?”

“You can’t just ask me to a fancy dinner, tell me there’s something really important that you need to ask me tonight, and leave it at that.” You bit and he laughed when he realized what his choice of words must have insinuated. “I love you, Chris, but I don’t think we’re ready to-”

“I’m not going to propose,” he cut you off, chuckling. You let out an audible sigh of relief and it was his turn to scowl, “okay, don’t sound so relieved.” His smile returned when you giggled. “I’m a romantic, I’m not an eccentric. We’re not even living together yet, you really think I’ll propose before we take that step? What if you’re a pain in the ass to live with?” He joked and you scoffed with a smile. “What if you talk during my football games, or force me to do the dishes immediately?” Another scoff escaped because you did do that; he laughed because he was obviously joking. “I can’t live with that for the rest of my life.”

“You know what, jackass,” you slapped his arm, “even if you did propose I’d say no.” He pouted, giving you signature puppy dog eyes as he grabbed you by your waist. “Get off me,” you laughed and playfully pushed him back when he tried to hug you. “Chris!” You shrieked with laughter when he lifted you off the ground, crushing you in a tight encasement created by his strong arms. “People are watching,” you giggled, “put me down.”

“I love you, baby.” He smacked a loud, scruffy kiss on your cheek before planting you back down on your feet. “Do you want me to drive you to work?” He asked as he released you. “I’m already late, I might as well be a good boyfriend while I’m at it. C’mon,” he took your hand and started to pull you towards his car.

“Can you be a good boyfriend and tell me what that really important thing you have to ask me tonight is?” You asked with a wince; the hope that laced your voice was not present in the next sentence after he shook his head. “Chris, come on. Have mercy, you know I’m just going to fixate on it until I see you tonight. Do you really want me distracted all day? I have meetings today, I can’t afford to be distracted.”

“But you’re so cute when you’re distracted.”

“Chris,” you tried not to laugh while you were being terse, but you failed.

“Why are you always so impatient?” He turned around, smiling. “Do you know how many surprises you’ve ruined because of your impatience?” He rhetorically quizzed and you scoffed; he smiled because he knew what you were going to say in defense.

“Are you serious? I could ask you the same thing,” you bit back playfully. “You’re the one who always hints he has a surprise for me. I wouldn’t even know if you didn’t say anything, but no, you always have to open your big mouth. So if we are really looking for someone to blame for my ruined surprises, shouldn’t it be you?”

“Okay, fine.” He rolled his eyes dramatically and you laughed. “You really want to spoil the surprise for yourself, fine.” He dug into his back pocket and pulled out a classic Disney Castle keychain with a single key. “Here,” he held it up in front of your confused face. You didn’t get it, you already had a key to his place just like he had one to yours.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve already got a key to your house.”

“You have a spare key to my house, yes, but this is your key to my house.”

“What are you talking about?” You laughed and he sighed with a smile. “It’s a key, it doesn’t-”

“I’m trying to ask you to move in with me, idiot,” he cut you off, chuckling. “The key was symbolic, okay? I know you already have a key and it works and it doesn’t matter if I call it a spare key or your key. I’m trying to ask you to move in with me.” You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh at his semi-rant. “God, I’m glad I’m doing this now. If I did this at dinner, I’d be too worked up to eat.” He joked then laughed when you did. “Will you please move in with me?” He wiggled the key in your face, a hopeful smile on his lips.

“Of course I will,” you swiped the keychain from his hand then wrapped your arms around his neck. He smiled and rested both hands on your waist before rewarding you with another tender kiss. “Just out of curiosity,” you began when he broke the kiss, “does this mean we’re on the path to getting married?”

“I’d answer that, but I don’t want to ruin any more surprises for you.”

Tags: @chrisevans-imagines @widowsfics @m-a-t-91 @imaginesofdreams  @katiew1973 @winter-tospring @shamvictoria11 @soymikael @faye22 @always-an-evans-addict @heartblackerthancoffee @whenyourealizethisisntagoodname @yourtropegirl @smoothdogsgirl @createdbytinyaddiction @dreamingintheimpalawithdean @rileyloves5 @buckys-shield @catch-me-im-a-falling-star @tabi-toast @ssweet-empowerment @chrixa @feelmyroarrrr @akidura79 @castellandiangelo @edward-lover18 @yourenotrogers @im-a-fandom-slut @royalexperiment256 @palaiasaurus64 @tacohead13 @badassbaker @pegasusdragontiger @sfreeborn @dorisagent101 @aekr @imagine-cats96 @adeptkillsyasse @shliic @justanotherfangurlz @winchesterandpie @creativeheartgemini @camerica96 @thestarlighthotel @lilya-petrichor @pinkleopardss @lizzysugar @bywonater @avengingalec @nerdingoutismylife @rayleyanns @captainxamerica @lapetitsyrene @01asianista @alwayshave-faith @southernbellestatues @thegirlwiththeimpala @callie-swagg1 @what-if-wenevermet @lovemarvelousfics @patzammit @gerrardisgod @stevcsass @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19

REBORN/ RETURN

Hello. C: We’re all a lil’ confused about this, but I’m pretty sure the difference between the words in the instagram picture doesn’t matter a whole lot. Both specifies the act of coming back in one way or another.

Interesting to point out is that when Anti last really spoke to us in that PAX video, he said that he’s always there, always watching. Therefore wouldn’t need to return from anywhere. He’s been there all along.

But do you know who supposedly DID die and would need to be ‘reborn’? Who was gone and is able to ‘return’? Who we supposedly last saw with dark green hair, back in October 2016? 

Jack himself, of course! (Even the picture description says “Finally feel like myself again!”) 

Now get this; I’ve seen people theorize about the idea of Jack being the one glitching the videos after switching places with Anti. He (or one of the other egos) did call for help by using video titles and omnious descriptions and such. Maybe the glitching is Jack trying to show us that what we’re seeing is an illusion. He shows us Anti, maybe tries to tell us that it’s not him by exposing the guy. We hear Anti laugh and see him slowly but surely behave weird even when there’s no glitch there because Jack showed us a glimpse of what’s really happening. We’re more aware and Anti is less careful. But of course we love that and we keep watching, keep theorizing and keep waiting for more. Until someone breaks the code for real.

Also I’d like to think that Jack is another persona and obviously not actual Sean. (Which apparently has been confirmed already, yessss!)

disisjusatheorythomyapologies

(Also if you think about how we went nuts over two words with a very similar meaning, it’d make sense for Anti to pull fun of it, right? And put it as Jack’s bio on twitter and such. We made a fuzz about nothing and he’s amused, my frens.)

3

1. Do I look like I give a fuck?
+
6. This was impulsive. Probably shouldn’t have done it. WHO CARES?
+
7. You’re really cute and it’s ruining my life because I think about kissing you all the time.

(I changed prompt number 7 a little bit, to make it fit better in the story. Hope you don’t mind :) )

Here you go! :)

You slowly opened your previously tightly shut eyes. Your vision was blurry, white vertical streaks across it, and tryinh to shake your head did not help at all, in fact you felt worse. Your head was throbbing with a splitting headache and you felt like throwing up.

But despite the awful condition you felt in, the bed you were laying on was pretty smooth and comfortable. Though, how did you end up in it in the first place?

With your half-open eyes you spotted a dark figure coming in your direction, with your ears buzzing you couldn’t make up what they were saying, but as soon as your vision stated to clear up, you saw it was a man who was speaking to you.

“So you are awake” - his voice was soft, yet somewhat intimidating, it got you focused in no time at all. He was peacing around the room with slow steps, his gaze on the ground, and ands behind his back.

“I suspect you remember nothing of what happened?”- the tone of his voice was sounded slightly amused and this irritated you. There was nothing amusing in the nasty headache you had, so what was he even chucking at?

“I don’t usually find interest in humans-”- he started, finaly stopping his peacing and standing in front of you. It was not just a man, it was “Loki?” - as soon as you realized who he was, got up on your feet and despite the throbbing of your brain, the rush of adrenaline you felt numbed your body and your next move was landing a punch on his face - square in the jaw. 

You breathed in and out heavily, all the memories from the past coming on the surface of your memories. “You bastard!”- you yelled at his face and went for another punch, but felt yourself being lifted in the air and getting paralyzed in the state you were. 

This was impulsive. Probably shouldn’t have done it. Who cares? The way he tried to manipulate you in the past was cruel and vicious, he made a fool out of you and your feelings for him that you never relieved after what he did. He was unworthy of your love and with Odin’s help you fleed into the world of humans again.

Loki brought his fingers to his jaw and rubbed it then with his foced laugh, turned his eyes back at you. “Is that what I get after spending so many years of looking for you?”- you couldn’t believe your ears!

Do I look like I give a fuck? You cheeky manipulating jerk!” . He knew what he did was wrong, but the jealousy he felt for you got the best of him. You and his brother were getting closer with every day, while his heart was getting blacker with impure desire for revenge and lust. 

He throught he possessed you and in his ways of turning fate in his odds, ended up with a heartbreaking, miserable result - losing you.

And then the spell he had casted to keep youlevitating in the air broke and you bounced on the bed. Before you had time to proceed any new information, he had teleported himself on top of you and was holding you in place.

Looking you directly in the eyes. You were looking at his, did you feel the rush you used to get very time he was near, yes, God damn it, you did! Old habbits die hard, so you turned your head away from him, trying to avoid his piercing gaze, afraid he’d use his powers on you again - entrapping you into a manipulated, brainwashed state.

You’re the only thing that’s ever on my mind and it’s ruining my life because I think about kissing you all the time, even now when I know I can’t-” his confession was unexpected on your side, but it changed nothing, so you stopped him right there, before finishing what he had to say: “It’s not my fault you’re feeling like that! I shouldn’t even care about what you’re feeling at all!”

The next few moments were silent, with you trying to empty your brain from all that was happening and why was it happening and when he finally spoke, he asked a single question, question you wished he didn’t know the answer to.

“And do you? Do you care about what I feel?”