one of my favorite places i've ever been

i wake up more awake (more than i've ever been before)

#sscappreciationweek / day one: favorite episode“1x05: nature hath framed strange fellows in her time”

for day one i decided to write a missing scene from my favorite episode, “nature hath framed strange fellows in her time.” takes place directly after the rosvolio bath scene. 

summary: rosaline decides that she and benvolio will need to rest before continuing to travel through the night. it’s an innocent enough comment, but figuring out sleeping arrangements will be a little more complicated.

“We’ll need to rest before traveling through the night,” Rosaline says as she wipes the tiny smile from her face, her cheeks still warm from her stolen look at the Montague. “Especially you.”

She turns to look at him again when she hears his incredulous snort. This time he’s clothed, thankfully. “Why ‘especially me,’ Capulet? Clearly you underestimate my ability to stay up all through the night.” He quirks an eyebrow, and she rolls her eyes; she’s become used to his innuendos by now.

“You’re a dead man on your feet, Montague.”

“Yes, I think I’ve noticed, considering I’m accused of murder and have an execution sentence hanging over my head.”

Rosaline shakes her head. “That’s not what I meant. I mean you look tired. I’ve seen the past few days taking their toll on you. You need to sleep.”

His face softens a bit at that. “And what of you? I’ve hardly seen you napping while we ran for our lives, either.”

And as much as she hates to admit it, he’s not wrong. Both of them have hardly slept since they left Verona in the dead of night. She’s dozed off for a few minutes at a time, but they had to keep a quick pace if they wanted to outrun anyone who might have come after them, so those moments of quiet were always short-lived. Truth be told, she’s completely exhausted. A few hours of sleep would do both of them some good.

“We both need some sleep, Montague,” she concedes. “We can wake when night falls and begin our journey, just as we planned.” She stands up and adds, “You can take the bed.”

The Montague looks outraged at this proposition. “No, Capulet, you take the bed, I insist. You’re a lady.”

“And you’re a convicted criminal on the run! If anyone needs to rest right now, it’s you. I’ll take the chair.”

“Over my dead body.”

“That can be arranged, Montague.”

They stand face-to-face, arms crossed, staring at each other with glares of ice and fire. Finally, Rosaline drops her arms and sighs, kicking off her shoes and sitting on the edge of the bed. “Fine. I’ll take this side of the bed, and you can take that side.”

The Montague’s eyes widen; if she’s not mistaken, he looks a bit appalled at the idea. “I can't—”

“You can. I may be a Capulet, but I promise that sleeping in the same bed as me for a few hours won’t kill you.”

“It’s not that, Rosaline,” he says, and her heart softens when she hears him call her by her given name again, just as he had the night they left Verona. “What of your honor?”

“My honor?” she repeats. It was the last thing that would have come to her mind. “What honor? I ran away willingly with a man in the middle of the night. My honor is almost certainly in question already.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, and she looks up in surprise.

“Sorry for what?”

“For forcing you to risk everything to come with me.”

“You didn’t force me,” she says, and she hopes her eyes convey the sincerity in her words. “It was my choice. I chose to come with you because you are innocent, and I do not wish to see you die. Now, will you please stop talking so we can do a bit more sleeping?”

The Montague chuckles at that, and Rosaline smiles in satisfaction. She lays down beneath the covers and turns toward the wall, listening as Benvolio closes the curtains, snuffs out a candle, and takes off his boots. It’s oddly intimate, and she can’t keep her cheeks from flaming.

A few minutes later, he climbs carefully into the bed; Rosaline can tell that he’s wary of touching her. She never would have guessed that a Montague could be such a gentleman.

“Goodnight, Capulet,” he says into the darkness.

She almost lets it go. Almost. “It’s the middle of the day, Montague.”

“Just trying to be polite, Capulet. Always a pleasure with you.”

She chuckles lowly, pulling the blankets closer to her chest. “Sleep well, Benvolio.”

(And if she smiles a little when she says his name and hopes that he smiled, too, she doesn’t think about it.)

(And if she wakes up hours later only to find his body pressed against her back and the warmth of his arm wrapped around her waist, and if she pretends to sleep for a few more minutes before waking him, she doesn’t think about that, either.)

Let’s pretend it’s still Inktober 2k17: where I attempt to draw 1 pic each for the first 30 chapters of Owlet’s The Long Road Begins At Home.

Chapter 23: Stepping among landmines

Barnes finds that the physical connection, his hand on Steve’s arm, provides an anchor. He can’t forget where he is. He can remember that he stands in a safe place, with safe people. Not in a place where Dieter Graummann has ever been or is likely to ever be.

The words can come out of his mouth. But he doesn’t want to see Steve’s face when he says them, so he stares at the window again, at the river and Brooklyn. He wouldn’t want to say the words there, either, because Esther would cry.

“Sexual sadist,” he says.

[my Infinite Coffee fanart thus far] [my other stuff]

anonymous asked:

I just heard Alex's cover of Last Night I Dreamt by the Smiths for the first time and all I can say is I thought I was prepared but I wasn't and I've been reduced to less than rubble

It’s honestly, probably one of my favorite songs he’s done. Especially the version at Alexandra Place. His soft voice, his outfit, the rose petals. I loved the one at Castlefield Bowl as well, when he’s wearing the bright blue suit. Just the way he leans and sways on the mic with his eyes closed is enough to kill me. There’s so much emotion in the way Alex sings it; as if Morrissey’s voice on the original doesn’t already just rip you’re fucking heart and guts right out. If there’s ever been a song that I would kill to have Alex record, it would probably be this. So I can fling myself dramatically onto my bed, curl up in a ball, and just weep forever listening to it.

I feel you. xx

Not to mention they had Johnny Marr onstage with them. Christ. 

overwatchtemp  asked:

Hi Juby! Just wanted to drop by and say that I've been loving the work you place in your thumbnails! It makes your videos a lot more eye catching and recognizable

Oh wow! I don’t think anyone has ever complimented me on that but I really appreciate it! Thank you!!

Originally posted by yoonbums

I could actually talk for paragraphs about thumbnails but I don’t wanna bore anyone. However, I will drop a link to one of my favorite sites for making graphics because it makes my life so wonderful:


Doric Temple - Segesta Sicila

I've always been in love with ancient Greece. Their culture, their philosophy, their art, Hellens gave us the cultural backbone of our western world. 

Greek temples, especially those that are in doric style, have always been my favorites. For me, perfection is achieved when you can no longer take away anything, when all that is left is mandatory. 

The doric temple of Segesta has never been achieved. Columns have never been carved, no roof was ever built. Yet, this unfinished temple stays in my mind as one of the most beautiful place I have ever seen. It’s unfinished, maybe, but it’s already a temple. And, what can I possibly say about the site ? Suspended on top of a cliff, above a dangerous ravine, the place lays between the mountain and the sea, between earth and heaven. 

I took these pictures in early april 2009, when Sicilia was still green. Of all mediterranean islands, Sicilia is undoubtedly the wonder. 

Photos personnelles