sometimes i'm having these chair feelings... ; ;

Signs as things said in my band class
  • Aries: if I could be a musician I wouldn't, but that's just because it's a fantasy. I would do it in real life.
  • Taurus: every time we stop playing music an instrument dies
  • Gemini: I was thinking so hard I forgot how to count
  • Cancer: you don't know music like I know music because I am music
  • Leo: haha, you thought I could play but in reality it's just my corpse doing all the work
  • Virgo: see I know what I'm doing but I don't in anyway know how to transfer my reading into noise
  • Libra: I wish I could be a perfect musician but I'm just a high school student who can't play an instrument
  • Scorpio: do you dare me to eat a piece of the reed? No I'll do it anyway, I'm hungry.
  • Sagittarius: you wish you were cool but nothing will be cooler than me and my sax
  • Capricorn: I just want to curl up under a chair, if you need me I'll be playing sad trombone tunes under here
  • Aquarius: you just have to feel the music, like get into it *hits head on a drum*
  • Pisces: sometimes I wish I could sleep in this class and feel the music
When the Gloves Come Off

Part two of the prompt from loonyloopy: Cullen/Quizzie and a hard earned neck massage after a long day of work. 


Elysse scratched her quill against the paper, pressing until the tip threatened to puncture through. “Thank you for your insipid and snide comments towards house Trevelyan, but you can keep your Andraste forsaken cheeses and shove them up your—”


Josephine stared at her, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. Leliana hid her smile behind pressed lips but Cullen laughed openly at the remark.

“What? It’s not like I’m actually going to send a message like that… probably.”

“You worked hard to win the favor of the court,” the ambassador reminded her. “But send a letter like that and I’ll be sure to arrange a private tea party at the end of every month until you’ve had a personal chat with all of them.”

Elysse pursed her lips, eye twitching as she stared the woman down. Josephine simply smiled, her quill poised in promise to follow through on her threat.

And people thought Leliana was the dangerous one.

“Fine,” Elysse grumbled, setting the parchment aside. “Since you’ll probably write it anyway, Josie, can I ask that you add just the slightest hint of condescension?”

“Don’t I always?”

Josephine and Leliana bowed before departing, but not before leaving a rather intimidating stack of papers for her to look over. Elysse groaned and let her head thunk down onto her knees.

“Long day?” Cullen asked.

She let out another groan. “I thought dealing with other nobility in the Free Marches was bad enough, but the Orlesians take it to an entirely different level. I mean, fifteen forks? Why would anyone need so many utensils to eat cheese?”

“I hear King Alistair has a fairly impressive collection.” His lips pulled up in a smirk. “Perhaps you should ask him.”

“I’ll have to make it a priority.”

He smiled and her face automatically returned the gesture.

Stay with me.

The request remained stuck between her teeth. He had duties, responsibilities, matters far more important than her desire to be around him.

Cullen took a half-step forward, lips parted in a question. She slid to the edge of her seat as though it would draw the words from him. He lingered for a moment before placing a closed fist to his chest. “Inquisitor.”

Elysse watched as he marched out the door, wishing she had a stronger reason than “just because” to keep him there.

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I don’t know why but this scene breaks my heart.  We always see John eating and Sherlock watching.  Sometimes Sherlock eats and John watches.  It’s always together.  Sure, I hypothetically understand that now that Sherlock is living alone he’s going to eat alone.  But this is the first time it really hits.  He’s so alone.  He tried to get Molly to take John’s place, and it didn’t work, but he still tried to ask her to eat with him.  Because he didn’t want to eat alone.  And here he is.  Alone.  With his chips in a soggy bag.  Staring at John’s chair.  Why would they do this.

some things never sleep (blood is running deep) (3/4)

summary: The only times she had heard from Killian had been when Kristoff would bring a package with a letter from him for Henry on his birthday. Emma had never asked him how Killian managed to get them in time or how he contacted him. She was better not knowing, anyway.

He hadn’t missed one of Henry’s birthdays since the day he left.

Oh, and the divorce papers. That had been the only correspondence she and Killian had shared in the past three years.


notes: started out for cs au week because i love me some divorced!au angst and i know a lot of you do too. so why not. right.  

also on ao3 and

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I like to imagine that Anna would secretly have someone make a Kristoff doll for her (like her and Elsa’s doll counterparts as kids) so that she’d hug and cuddle it while he’s out harvesting ice because it could get a little lonely sometimes without him and Elsa busy.

and maybe he’d catch her one afternoon dozing off with the doll tucked under her chin on the chair, waiting for him all day.

Headcanon that Lily often fell asleep in the common room: by the fire, on the sofa, atop her books, in chairs, across tabletops, even sometimes on the floor. And every time she did, James always had to fight the urge to try to carry her up the stairs to her dormitory because he obviously couldn’t. So when they were dating/engaged/married and out of Hogwarts he always made a point to carry her to her/their bed, as if trying to make up for all those lost opportunities.