stave it off

anonymous asked:

Please write a short fic about tony catching peter drinking i would die omg

“Hey, Peter,” 


He froze, eyes widening as he heard the all-too-familiar sound of expensive leather brogues scuffing along the floor a few meters from him, and he turned quickly, brow furrowed into a deep V as he watched Tony wander up to him, all smiles and casual posture, hands buried in the pockets of his grease-stained jeans. He looked like he’d come straight from the workshop, stopping only to throw on a leather jacket along the way.

Why he was here at all, however, made no sense at all.

“T- Mr Stark,” Peter said, trying to communicate with him through eyebrow movements alone. If it turned out that he had to suit up and help out somewhere, he was pretty fucked, considering the fact he’d had a bit to drink at the party he’d been invited to.

Well. He said ‘a bit’. It was possibly more accurate to say ‘a fucking shit-ton’, but whatever.

Tony looked at him blankly, before shooting another smile toward the circle of people who were stood around Peter and staring quite blatantly at the both of them. “Hello, ladies and gentlemen, I’m afraid I have to take Mr Parker away. He’s an intern at Stark Industries, you know how it is. Lots of work, yadda yadda, okay bye,”

And before Peter could even open his mouth, Tony had grabbed him by the arm and snatched the solo cup out of his hand almost angrily, pulling him away from the group of people and through the crowds of rowdy teenagers that littered the huge house.

“Uh, Mr Stark, wha’dd’ya want me for, exactly?” Peter asked, speaking loudly above the blaring music and wincing at how slurred his voice came out.

It had been a weird month, okay. He was just trying it out. 

Tony paused, and Peter saw him purse his lips even tighter before beginning to walk again, guiding Peter through the crowds and holding him tight as he stumbled a little.

“Hey, Parker, leaving so soon?” Flash called out from somewhere to his left, and Peter stopped turning to face him as the other boy wandered toward them. “We haven’t even begun yet, Jesus, are you a pussy or what-”

“Kid,” and suddenly Tony had let go, spinning around and walking up to Flash, who seemed to suddenly recognise who exactly Tony was, because his eyes went hilariously wide and he stumbled backward a few steps. Peter snorted involuntarily, and he saw Tony turn briefly, before shaking his head and looking back to Flash, “it seems like you’re having an absolute ball here, but I’m gonna say something and I’m only going to say it once.”

Tony looked down at Flash, eyes harsh as he drew a little closer. “Leave. Peter. Out of it. Do you understand? He is not here for you to manipulate, not here for you to bully into trying out crazy shit for your amusement-”

“Tony, what the fuck,” Peter blurted, frowning and stepping forward, more than a little put out. He’d only just managed to get accepted by Flash and all the other popular kids, and Tony was just going in, ruining it all, “you’re not my dad- don’t tell me or my friends what I can and can’t do.”

Tony turned, eyebrows raised. “Friends?” He snorted, shaking his head and walking over to Peter once more, taking him by the arm. “You haven’t called in with Aunt May for two days now,” he hissed into Peter’s ear, “she’s worried sick. You are coming with me, right now.”

“No ‘m not,” Peter pushed his hand off, looking over at Tony in anger. “You are fucking….embarrassing me…. in fron’ of my friends-”

“They are not your friends!” Tony snarled, pulling his arm again, “your friends are all currently at home, worrying their asses off because this is not like you, Peter, and they didn’t know what to fucking do, so they ended up calling me. Now you will fucking follow me out of this goddamn place right now, or I am hauling you out.”

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You know what we need more of? Beginner’s classes for adults.

It’s supposed to be really, really good for you to keep learning new things as you age. It helps stave off strokes and dementia and Alzheimer’s and improves memory. And hey, learning stuff is fun.

But I really don’t want to be infantilized when I try to learn something. And I definitely don’t learn the way a child does. And honestly, what adult wants to be in the same class as children? Very few.

This occurred to me recently because I’d like to learn how to actually ice skate properly. My parents never signed me up for classes, because it wasn’t a thing they ever cared about or thought about. Now I’m in my twenties and want to learn, and also don’t want to be surrounded by a bunch of eight-year-olds who probably honestly skate better than I do. Because that’s embarrassing, and embarrassment is not how you learn.

Would it be good to lose the social stigma of being worse at something than a child? Yes. Hell yes. But we’ve got to start somewhere, and like I said: adults don’t really learn the way kids do, and a lot of people use these kinds of activities to make friends, and I don’t want to make friends with an eight-year-old, either.

So.

Beginner’s classes for adults. Let adults suck at stuff and learn how to get better and learn new things and broaden their horizons, while still being treated as adults. Classes for writing, for pottery, for chess, for art, for instruments, for singing, for sports, for chemistry. For everything, dammit.

the no bullshit guide to getting your shit together: for the lazy student

Let’s be honest: time management and organization? They’re really hard. Sure, at first you might feel like you’ve gotten the hang of them, that you’re in control of your life. But how often have you fallen off the wagon? Procrastinated on one thing and the next moment, you’re behind in all your classes? I know that sometimes laziness feels like a part of who you are, but honestly, fuck that. Do you really want to give up your success for the disinterest of a moment?

If your answer is no (it better be no, or you really need to get your priorities straight), let’s get to it. 

STEP ONE: BE HONEST WITH YOURSELF

“This class doesn’t even matter.” “I don’t care about my grades.” “I can finish this the day before.” Sound familiar? You might feel great now, but when you’re staring down at your report card later, it’ll feel like you just got punched. 

This is a cliche, but the greatest obstacle to your success is yourself - especially the lies you tell yourself! Sit yourself down and be honest about what you need to improve on. Be as blunt as you can, but for god’s sake, don’t throw yourself a pity party! There’s no use agonizing over what you can’t change. Instead, set realistic, achievable goals, and make a game plan. Struggling with math? Go to extra help. Behind in all your classes? Stay in for a couple nights and actually work. 

STEP TWO: STOP WITH THE FANCY SHIT

Now you know what your goals are, but maybe you want some inspiration, so you log on to tumblr and are instantly bombarded by all these beautiful, well lit shots of the most gorgeous bullet journals, planners, and notes. Impressive, right? Well, I’m gonna let you in on a little secret: they’re all useless! A simple phone planner works just as well, if not better, than a fancy agenda, because you’ll always have it on you, it’s not a hassle to carry around, and you don’t feel obligated to make it look pretty. 

Riddle me this, where are you going to find all this extra motivation to keep prettying up your bullet journal? To write all your notes in perfect, colour coded printing? There aren’t many times in life where taking the easy was out will actually benefit you, so take advantage! Stop wasting your time; get a phone planner and write your notes in your natural goddamn handwriting. 

STEP THREE: CLEAN YOUR ROOM

Yep, your entire room - not just your study space! This one can be put on the back burner for a bit if you’re on a really pressing deadline, but I wouldn’t recommend it. I’m notoriously messy, and if I don’t watch myself, I’d find myself in dirty-laundry-and-old-notes hell. A little bit of organized chaos is fine, I even encourage it! But try working when your desk is covered in mounds of paper and you have nowhere to put your laptop – it’s just not conducive to success. 

Keeping your entire room clean is a way to stave off stress, frustration, and even embarrassment, because nobody wants to show potential roommates how much of a mess they are. 

STEP FOUR: ACTUALLY WORK

Yeah, I know what you’re thinking: “actually work? Who does this girl think she is?” I’d probably think the same thing, except I’ve learned the valuable lesson of sucking it the hell up, and you will too. When you get home from work, grab a snack and work. When you have a free period, figure out what’s due and work. Stop reasoning yourself out of work: you’re not going to finish this later, and that will be on the test. There’s really not much to say about this one, because it’s the step that requires the most raw effort, and you’re really only going to find that within yourself. Tell yourself what’s at stake, and realize that, by setting the standard for your mediocrity now, you’re potentially trapping yourself in a cycle that will last for years. 

STEP FIVE: CUT YOURSELF SOME SLACK

Maybe you’ve been on top of your shit for a day, a week, or even a month, and that’s really great. But then… you fail. You miss a deadline or you bomb a test. So what do you do now? Do you allow yourself to fall back into your old habits? Fuck no! Everyone fails, even that studyblr with those perfect bullet journal photos and a perpetually clean study space. I’m going to tell you something that’ll sound really strange: you should value your failures, especially if you worked hard to avoid them. What?! Be HAPPY about failing when I actually TRIED? Yeah, you heard me right. If you don’t know how to handle failure, then when you inevitably experience it, your reaction will be much worse. 

Failing hurts, and boy, I know how embarrassing it can be. But learning how to deal with failure, and especially how to keep trying after it happens, is an invaluable lesson. 

STEP SIX: TREAT. YO. SELF.

Disclaimer: I’m not suggesting you treat yourself after the most basic of tasks, because please. Treat yourself when you know you goddamn well deserve it. Remember that “all work and no play makes jack a dull boy.” If all you do is study and do your homework, then, pardon my french, your life sucks. If you don’t have friends, play a video game! Eat an entire jumbo chocolate bar! Indulge in whatever the fuck you want, you deserve it. I’m someone that has trouble prioritizing future benefits over immediate gratification, so by allowing myself little pleasures, I save myself from crashing and burning. 

Hope these tips helped, but remember to take them with a grain of salt - you’re you and I’m me, and different things work for different people. Good luck!

Intergalactic Law states that first contact can not be made until an intelligent species successfully staves off an extinction event. Earth, having just destroyed an asteroid passing that criteria, is immediately greeted by millions of alien species there to celebrate, and party hard

asthspace  asked:

If EBT could be used to buy anything, then what is the incentive to buy food with your own money? Why should the tax payers have to pay for welfare receivers to get luxury food???

Many people do not know this about me, but I have been on Snap benefits. I lost a job in 2009, shortly after the Great Recession, and I had nothing. I had to wait in lines at a food bank to get two small grocery bags of canned food, some toilet paper and a bar of soap a week and I applied for and received SNAP benefits. 

Let me tell you, there was no luxurious eating. Unless, you think a diet of pasta, rice, beans, canned veggies, canned tuna, peanut butter and bread IS opulent. If you think going down to the Wonder Bread factory and buying their expired products is lavish, being on SNAP is the life for you.

But even if I did buy as much expensive food as I could, who cares what anyone else eats? It is a set amount of money each month. If someone wants to blow all $126 they get a month on one meal, who am I to say no. They are the ones that are going to have to figure out how to eat for the remaining 89 meals that month.

Should we require that “Welfare” Recipients eat garbage so that you can feel better than them?

On average they get about $1.40 a meal in SNAP benefits. Basically, we are requiring them to eat garbage, but still, that seems like too much for you. 

- @theliberaltony


Just to stave off the stupid responses a bit: 

  • I spent less than a year on SNAP. 
  • Yes, I have a job now.
A Killer’s Past & his PTSD

Back again with another analysis; and boy oh boy did this chapter meet and go beyond my expectations. First, let me start off by saying finally. The elusive and highly coveted second floor was finally shown to us viewers - and it was surprisingly mundane (when you compare it to the countless theories we had of bodies being all over the place or weird mommy memorabilia.) The shock of the second floor aside, what really had me Sang-shook - and I think all of us - was Sangwoo’s reaction, because for a while, many of us had debated on whether Sangwoo could feel anything. 

I’d like to explore Sangwoo’s breakdown a little. But please note, all of this is purely speculative, and Koogi’s proven to throw even the most complex theories a curve ball. So let’s get started:

Three words, and a whole world of depth.
“Something’s not right.”

This sentence stuck out to me. This moment burned itself into my mind. Why?Because I feel this was the moment Sangwoo was thrown back into the past, and he no longer just saw Bum on the floor. He saw a familiar picture, a scene in which he’d played a crucial role and was left vulnerable. I feel like this moment was Koogi’s way of mirroring, through Sangwoo’s eyes, what happened to Sangwoo’s mother. 

And I know, it’s a stretch guys. I’m aware that we don’t know what happened. Sangwoo hasn’t told us if he killed his parents, or if something else went down, but I feel this was a hint. I just couldn’t shake the feeling. And I caught a couple of signs before this; the first being Sangwoo’s peculiar way of speaking after he sees Bum’s blood running across the floor. It’s as if he reverts back to a childish state, and I think it carries more depth then being simply in “shock.”

“Make it go back.”

“Let’s get you to bed.”

Sangwoo is not a stranger to blood or guts. He’s killed countless women. He’s tortured and humiliated Bum before, and before this scene he even grabbed his bat to finish Bum off because he was pissed. And that makes sense, after all. Bum did something he could not control, and we all know how much Sangwoo needs his control. He’s not an amateur when it comes to human anatomy. He’s seen Bum bleed. He’s made Bum bleed. Given how he bandages Bum up later, he knows that the way Bum cut himself won’t kill him. So I thought, why the hell would he freak out like this? Why would he waste time trying to push the blood back when he’s clearly been more productive before. 

Instead of taking Bum upstairs immediately to stop the bleeding, he wigs out. The switch is flipped. He cups his hands and brings them together in a futile, almost child like attempt to make Bum stop bleeding, and this really disturbed me.

Then there’s this moment, and it clicked. 

It clicked, because I’ve had this moment.

Without getting too personal, I suffer from PTSD.

I’ve been abused as a child, and I was raped as an adult. It’s something that I battle with everyday, and there were times in my life where something, something so small and seemingly insignificant triggered a memory inside of me that just had me frozen. Just paralyzed with fear.

This frame, right here, took me back to all the times I stared off into the distance during topics of sexual assault, topics of abuse, and for that instant I relived the trauma. And this moment right here is when I think Sangwoo suffers a PTSD related flashback, and relives a moment that’s parallel to his past, which is why he reverts to a childish state. 

Whether it makes you upset or not, the fact of the matter is Oh Sangwoo is victim. He’s a murderer. Yes. A sociopath. Probably. But that doesn’t make the trauma he’s been through any less important or relevant to the person he is today. And while a mental illness isn’t a justification for murder or any of his actions, I think it’s a player.

PTSD: Symptoms may include nightmares or flashbacks

Avoidance of situations that bring back the trauma

Agitation, irritability, hostility, hyper-vigilance, self-destructive behavior. Hyper reactivity to stimuli.

Whether Sangwoo killed his mother, and was reliving that moment, is purely speculative. Whether his father killed his mother is again, purely speculative. But the question he posed to Bum at the end, about whether ‘Bum didn’t love him anymore because he was just like his father… is specific, and definitely mimicking words his own mother told him before. Soon after, he flies into a rage and almost drowns Bum. Perhaps, in the past, after his mother told him he was like his father, Oh Sangwoo flew into a similar fit of rage and killed her on accident… and the scene in the kitchen with the blood is him reliving that moment of fear and regret? Who can say. 

But I’m excited for what’s to come, and I’m even more excited to hear all your theories and thoughts. Bum is definitely someone he can’t leave behind anymore, but whether he loves Bum beyond using him to stave off his nightmares is something I’m dubious about. We’re definitely getting some important information here, and I was impressed with how vividly Koogi captured Sangwoo’s muddled mental state.

This chapter is my favorite thus far, and I’m pumped for what Koogi has in store. Thanks for reading.

Games and Piercings (Voltron Langst One-Shot)

Based on the prompt by @ohwhataprettypinkhat ! Please do enjoy!

           Lance had a game as a child, being the middle child. He really didn’t get too much attention from anyone except for the stray little one or two. Or when something drastic happened to him, like a broken limb or something. Which is why he created the game. Whenever he would talk, and he would notice someone not listening. He’d say something crazy. He’d remembered one time specifically. He was maybe eight at the time. With a gap-toothed grin and a mint green band-aid on his cheek as he babbled to his mother. Wild hand gestures and crazy exaggerations as she chopped vegetables at the stove. He remembered her nodding along, humming ‘yes’s and ‘okay dear’s every so often as he paused.

           “Hey Mama, I’m going to go off to war and break my arm, okay? A hum.

           “Okay mijo, go have fun.” Lance frowned before he stumbled off. Later that day he did actually break his arm. His friend’s mom had to call the ambulance and Lance’s mother hadn’t even know he was at the hospital when his friend’s mother drove him home and talked to Lance’s mother herself. Lance had smiled as he was smothered with attention and love from Garcia’s mother. But, it wasn’t his mother’s attention. It wasn’t the attention he wanted.

           They’d never notice.

           Even when he went off to Garrison, the game continued. Telling instructors he was going to go clubbing. Or that he was off to become a rebel fighter. Giving loud, exuberant stories about sailing the seas. Hell. He told his best friend Hunk he was going to go throw himself off the Garrison room. All he got was a absent minded smile and a ‘okay, see you at curfew.’ Lance wasn’t even sure Hunk had heard the leaving part.

           Then he was a paladin. One of five defender of the universe, fighting an intergalactic war. He was the first one chosen in over ten thousand years. And still, when he’d make jokes, or give his serious opinions. No one heard him. After so many years of the same game, he’d finally gotten bored. So, Lance did the only logical thing.

           Change up the rules.

           Allura was one of the few who noticed him, so she helped him out with his little game. Smiled when he told her the rules. How he’d say crazy things to see if someone was listening. Except for now, just like that one time when he was eight. He’d actually do them. And see how long it took for them to notice the changes.

           First was with Pidge, he’d sat in a room with her for three hours. Talking loudly and in great detail about the new blue highlights he was going to get in his hair when they stopped off in the next planet. How they’d be blue and teal and he was going to look like a god damn gorgeous fucking mermaid. Pidge only ignored him, only noticing and greeting him with a ‘huh?’ after three hours of Lance talking. The reason she noticed him was because Allura had entered the room and called his name.

           He’d gotten his hair dyed on that planet, just as he said he would. And no one noticed.

           The next one was his first ear piercings, he had been sparring with Keith, spouting nonsense as they fought in hand to hand combat. Lance was losing pretty much the entire time. But Lance knew that wasn’t anything new. Keith barely could tell the difference from fighting a training bot from fighting Lance. He got his piercing the very next day. Allura had done them herself. After one of their self-care and venting sessions.

           And it just spiraled from there. Hunk was cooking one day as Lance was drawing and talking about a tattoo of the ocean themed Lion he was going to get to cover most of his upper left arm. Shiro was his verbal bouncy wall for both his right eyebrow piercings. Pidge, that was his tongue piercing. Keith caused his lip piercings, both of them. Hunk had driven him for the belly button piercing. Shiro had gotten him the star tattoos on the corner of his right eye. It was fun yeah, Lance loved the little changes in himself. Each one gave him confidence in his appearance, but they also hurt him.

           It was like a reminder. Each thing he got was a time he was ignored. Rejected and alone. There were like constant reminders of his failings to get the attention he craved. Even Allura was getting agitated. Assuring him that she always noticed when he added the more noticeable things, and being surprised and often delighted and intrigued to see the more obscure and hidden changes. Lance always smiled when she fiddled with his new piercings, buying him new shiny ones that she matched with her own ear piercings, when she admired the progress he made in training, or when she traced his new tattoos with delicate nails. In return he always helped to braid her hair, painted her nails. Hell, he’d learned how to speak Altean for her. She was like the doting big sister he’d always wanted. He’d always craved to have.

           Most of the time, it was able to shove away all of the bad thoughts. Enough to stave off the personal demons inside of him. Clawing at him and constantly nagging at him. Reminding him that he was just a speck in the universe. That he could die one day, and there would be not a single person to mourn his death or go to his funeral.

           Those thoughts hurt. Until eventually, they didn’t. Soon the buzzing thoughts became normal in the back of his mind. Fading to silence as his excitement and live retreated in the castle. Being reserved for celebrations on saved planets, or for the Alteans that paid him attention and treated him like the family he saw them as. The paladins only seeing the bored, indifferent side that Lance adopted to deal with the people who no longer seemed to even care what he did.

           At least, he thought they didn’t, but by the time they did notice he didn’t care whether they did or not.

           It was a planet with a higher rate of gravity and magnetic activity. Gahtic’al or something? It wasn’t in a tongue that Allura talked about very often, but Lance was sure he’d get it by the time he meant the natives. The only thing he recognized as noteworthy was as Pidge announced they’d have to get rid of any metal they carried on them. Lance’s eyebrow raised up. His tongue running over and rubbing against the metal in his mouth. He almost felt anxious. It’d been a while since his skin had been bare of piercings. But, Lance knew he’d have to take them out as he watched even Keith give up his knifes. Lance sighed as he stepped up.

           His hands were already reaching to his ears to take off his piercings in his ears when he felt eyes on him. Shiro was gapping at him as he pulled more and more metal off of his face. Then incredulous as Lance even pulled up his shirt to get off his belly button piercing. Shiro studied Lance up and down. There was three holes in each of Lance’s ears, one industrial bar, and two piercing holes in his right eyebrow. Snake bites, a belly button piercing. Were those tattoos on his skin too?! Shiro gaped. He. When? Lance. Who cared more about his skin and hair than he cared about his health, had piercings and tattoos? And dye in his hair?! Shiro looked around, seeing more dazed and staring paladins. Guessing he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t noticed. Maybe it had happened recently? Shiro looked back to Lance, who looked calm and relaxed. Shiro was in awe.

           The boy looked so different. His body was stronger than Shiro remembered it to be, it was still lean. But with obvious strength, power, and muscle tone that didn’t compromise the litheness of his figure. His hair was brown with shimmering hues of blue and teal that framed his tan and tattooed skin perfectly. His face was set in a neutral expression. Not unfriendly, more of a calm blankness that looked like it could change into the most heart warming smile, or the scariest glare in the world. With a sharp jawline and the soft glowing blue lights of the ship, Lance looked striking, almost ethereal. With sharp royal blue eyes that were trained on a smiling Allura. What the princess did next surprised Shiro.

           “Lance, your tongue piercing too?” Lance seemed to gauge her words for a moment before he got them. Immediately sticking out that long tongue, revealing a thick black metal piercing straight through Lance’s tongue. Causing Shiro to catch a noticeable shudder run through Keith. Almost making him smirk. Keith always had a thing for the blue paladin. And a thing for piercings. Keith had to be in heaven. But, how long had Lance had these piercings? Was Shiro so caught up in training and leading that he hadn’t notice so many drastic changes in one of his paladins? Lance grinned at Allura.

           “Thanks princess.” Pidge was the first one to talk, pointing accusingly at Lance.

           “What?! When did this happen?!” Lance quirked an eyebrow at Pidge, the expression on his face was friendly, but didn’t hold that same joking light it once did. Now it just seemed like a cool neutrality, as if he’d just noticed Pidge’s shock.

           “What? The tongue piercing? I got that…” Lance frowned and looked to Allura, [When did I get the tongue piercing again?] Shiro gaped as fluid Altean language left Lance’s lips, as if he’d spoken the language his whole life. The other paladins’ reactions were much the same as Allura answered back.

           [I’d say, eight months ago? Your newest thing was the industrial bar, which was about six months ago, and the tongue piercing was about two months before that. Didn’t you get it at that at the market place on Shero’sic?] Lance nodded.

           “Yup. I remember now. It was eight months ago. Remember? Because I got it shortly after my face tattoos.” Allura nodded.

           “Mmm, I still like your arm tattoo. But the stars are quite quaint.” Lance’s fingers brushed the two small stars just at the outer corner of his right eye. Bringing Shiro’s attention to the little stars that almost looked like beauty marks next to Lance’s almost glowingly blue eyes. Lance placed the peicings into a small bag for safe keeping and handed them to Allura to put with their other metal objects while they landed on the planet. Lance looked back at them expectantly.

           “Well? Don’t we have a job to do?” And Lance walked away from them with Allura, leaving four shocked and confused paladins in his wake. Just what happened to their blue paladin? When had his body changed so much. So drastically in front of them without notice? When had he matured into such a strong young man? Calm and patient. The gleam and innocence of a child no longer in his eyes.

           What had they done to him?

You wanted Part 2? You get Part 2

PART 2

songsandeyeglasses  asked:

How do you redecorate without breaking your fragile bank account??

I love this question! Everything on this list is under $30, and most of it can be purchased from the safety of your dorm room couch.

Decorating on a Budget

1. Plants: Plants are my personal favorite decor (apart from Xmas lights). They’re inexpensive and look great in any location. If watering a plant every day doesn’t work for your schedule, get a cactus! I water my cacti twice a week.

2. Xmas Lights: I try to distance myself from people who say that Xmas lights are just “seasonal”. I have three different strands of lights up all year long, one in each room and one on my outdoor balcony. These lights are perfect for parties, romantic evenings, etc. 

3. Candles/Incense: Dorm room or apartment landlord permitting, candles and incense really help an apartment feel more homey. They also help stave off the smell of your cat’s litter box, which is always a plus.

4. Posters: Posters aren’t as expensive as you think they are, but poster frames are ridiculously expensive. And you can’t buy the cheap ones, they fall apart instantly- you have to buy the $40 ones. My advice to you, buy posters and hang them up carefully with pushpins or tape.

5. Clocks: Buy a cool clock off Society6 or RedBubble for $25. It’s my belief that the right clock can help brighten up an otherwise dull-looking room. I bought my boyfriend this Bob’s Burgers clock for his birthday last year.

6. Shower: You don’t need to use the low-grade weak shower head that came with your bathroom. You can buy color changing shower heads and spa quality shower heads on Amazon for $25. Go forth! Always keep your old shower head somewhere safe, and put it back on when you’re ready to move out. There are lots of great and truly unique shower curtains out there on the internet, but they’re expensive. You’re better off buying one from Target or Walmart.

7. Night lights: I am the sort of person who always needs to pee at 3am. I have always used night lights in my bathroom and kitchen because they’re so much better than blundering around in the dark. Similar to the Xmas lights, they help create that “mood”. I have these cute little lava lamp night lights.

8. Glow in the dark stars: Just trust me on this.

9. Chalkboard paint: Dorm room or apartment landlord permitting, chalkboard paint can help turn your room into a perpetual canvas. A friend of mine from college did this to his incredibly small room, and it looked so good.

10. Beaded curtain: Beaded curtains help make small spaces appear larger. We have a beaded curtain hanging in our hallway currently, and it’s great. You don’t need a super expensive one that was handmade by the indigenous people of wherever. Just a simple one to put in a doorway or hang on the wall to change your space.

reblog if you too are a pathetic piece of shit with no future who staves off depression by posting about it in a way you hope your followers will assume is meant to be ironic

Scientists have a creative solution to help the melting ice caps — make more ice

  • When faced with the problem of what to do about the Arctic’s melting ice caps, a team of scientists from Arizona State University wondered — what if we just made more ice?
  • According to CNN, the researchers proposed a $500 billion initiative that requires the construction of 10 million wind-powered pumps that would recycle water from the sea and deposit it onto the surface of ice caps, where it would then freeze.
  • Steven Desch, an astrophysics professor who worked on the project, admitted his team’s solution would be nothing more than a band-aid, a temporary fix which wouldn’t do much to stave off the larger effects of climate change. But because the ice caps are melting so quickly, he thought it best that scientists do something, anything, to act fast. Read more (2/16/17 4:29 PM)

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I Think I Wanna Marry You...

Pairing: Dean X Reader.

Warnings: none.

S/P/N- Sister’s Preferred Name.

Summary: The reader, distraught over not having a date to her sister’s wedding, considers asking one of the Winchesters to pretend to accompany her; will Dean manage to save the day and play pretend for two weeks, or will his feelings get the best of him?

A/N: I’m a sucker for these “fake relationship” stories ;))



                                                   ~*~*~*~

Y/N pulls the phone from her ear, her frustration drawn out in the creases in her brow.


“Well?” Dean asks, sat opposite her at the library table. Before him lies an open lore book, on a page about Nordic gods and how to kill them, and his cup of coffee sits dangerously close to the irreplaceable relic. With Sam out doing some shopping, it’s just the two of them at home, trying to dig up some info that might be useful for future use.


Pinching her brow, the young girl shakes her head, waving a dismissive hand.  “Nothing. It’s fine.”


“Ya’ sure?”


“Yes.” She says, trying to sound convincing, but its of no use, because the elder Winchester has known her long enough to see past her facades.


Living together for nearly five years now, calling her his best-friend even feels like an understatement. They got to know each other a while back through a hunt involving a Tulpa in California; Y/N’s kill, but the boy’s happened to jump in on it and help out. Surprise surprise: a friendship sparked,  and ever since then, the relationship has flourished greatly.


To Dean, Y/N is family, just like Cas or Charlie or any of the other members of their little rehabilitation program they’ve picked up over the years. And with that, he knows—well enough—that despite her efforts to dismiss it, something is nudging at her mind.


“Obviously not. You seem like you’re about to explode. What is it?” He shuts the book and leans forward. Y/N still looks exasperated; still tries to act like she isn’t, and fails terribly. When she finally lifts her gaze, her expression is that of defeat.


“It’s my sister.” She says mournfully. “She’s calling me about her wedding coming up this month, and wants to know if I’ve been signed up to the family news letter that allows me to see all the updates on things like which floral arrangement we’re going to have. Surprise surprise—I’m not.”


“Damn.” Dean says plainly, still not seeing the reason behind her chagrin. Y/N rolls her eyes at him, trying to look annoyed, but the smile that she suppresses says otherwise.


A sardonic laugh escapes her. “Yeah, damn indeed.”  She rises from her seat, downing her coffee. Dean glances at his, then stretches it across to her. She finishes it in a single glug.


“So….what now?” He leans back in the chair. “You don’t know the floral arrangements? Doesn’t sound so bad.”


“I don’t know anything about this wedding, Dean. I don’t know where it’s gonna be, I don’t know who’s gonna be there, and—until I few seconds ago—I didn’t know I’m going to have to be in Boston next week. S/P/N mentioned it in the newsletter but….” Her voice drifts off and she folds her lips into a straight-line, shrugging.


“What’s in Boston?”


“The wedding, apparently. Who even gets married in Boston? Yuck.” Y/N scowls.


“Your sister, apparently.” He almost rolls his eyes. “Right, so…go to Boston. Show up for the rehearsal, see your family, have fun, and then get back here once everything’s done.”


Dean explains it like it’s so easy.  To him, it is.  Wedding prepping can’t take more than three weeks, can it….? He wouldn’t know. He’s never had the chance to even be part of a wedding, but he assumes that that’s an appropriate estimate.


But, from the way Y/N bites her lip and averts her gaze to the floor, a look teetering between guilt and embarrassment on her face, maybe he’s wrong.


“Yeaahhh….” She draws out, skeptically. “Uhm…about that. It’s not as easy as it sounds…”


“Uhm…?” He quirks an inquisitive brow.


“I…sorta…told them that I have a date to the wedding and,…” Y/N gestures in the air, but doesn’t finish her sentence.


Dean watches her with a knitted brow, waiting for an explanation that doesn’t come, until realizations strikes. His eyes widen and his mouth forms a little “o”.


“Ohhh.”


“Yeah…” Her cheeks are dusted with a feint blush and she looks away.


Dean doesn’t want to say it, but he can’t help but think how cute it is—really cute. The only thing that can compete, he thinks, is the way her eyes disappear into her cheeks when she smiles.


As embarrassing as it is, he has almost an entire list like that about Y/N; things he thinks are adorable about her, things like her laugh, to  he way she’s so awkward around big crowds,  or how she has an undeniable obsession with space. Little things. Cute things. It goes on and on, infinite and growing each day, the more and more he gets to know her…but he’ll never admit that.


Because he can’t.


Because Y/N is family, and she’s just a friend.


“Well…is it like a must to bring one along? You could always just tell your family that you guys…broke up? Maybe he cheated. Maybe the love fizzled out.” Dean offers, shrugging.


Y/N looks at him with an un-amused expression. “Great thing to mention right before a wedding.”


“God, I don’t know.” Getting up from his seat, he rolls his eyes. He shuts the book and a gust if dust billows from it, then fixes it under his arm.“You’ll figure it out. It’s you.”


“Dean…”


“Yeah?”


Y/N doesn’t meet his gaze. Instead, she looks to the floor, arms crossed over her chest.“Well,…there is something I thought about doing, but—God, I don’t know. What if, like—” She finally looks up.


Dean waits for the bombshell he knows she’s about to drop with a cautious, furrowed brow,


“—I asked Sam?”  She finishes, her expression hopeful; her eyebrows are pulled together and she’s squinting slightly. The elder Winchester feels the wind get knocked out of him at hearing this.


His eyes widen. “Sam?”


“Not to actually be my date!—just to fool my family for the two weeks. Do you think he’ll go along with it?”


“I don’t get it—why don’t you just—“


“I can’t tell them I don’t have a date, because I already told them that I do. Going back on my word now will just make me look ridiculous, Dean. Just…”Y/N sighs and shuts her eyes. Dean can read the desperation in her features. He bites his lip, contemplating Y/N’s offer.


Sam, going on a date with Y/N. The idea is so ludicrous, so unbelievable that it sounds completely silly, like imagining pigs fly or anything of the nature. He can’t bring himself to even picture the two of them together, but…


Still.


He then feels something stir in his gut at the thought, a warmth, a….jealousy? No. Hopefully not. It’s been ages since these feelings have managed to surface. Now is not the time for a return. The elder Winchester quickly suffocates the feeling and averts his attention back onto his friend.


 Before him she stands, imploring y/e/c eyes, a sweet smile stretched across her face and hands clasped together. She looks like a little girl, so young, so desperate. The elder Winchester doesn’t want to say no. Even if he did—with puppy eyes like those—how can you?


“So you have to have a date to this wedding?”


“I do.”


Dean thinks for a moment, raking his eyes over Y/N’s face that speaks mountains of uncertainty.


“You think he’ll say no, huh?”


“I’ll do it.”


“What?” Confusion floods the young girls face as she unclasps her hands. They fall to her side. Dean gulps trying to level his voice to a more confident tone.


“I’ll be your date to your sister’s wedding.” He repeats, hoping he sounds more sure than he feels. His hands go cold, throat tightening.


Y/N’s face speaks volumes of surprise. “You’d…do that?”


Another nod.


“You’ll really do this?” She asks eyes wide. “A whole two weeks in Boston? With my family?”


Dean shrugs. For some wild reason, his heart is pounding in his chest and his palms are sweating, and he tries to stave off all the anxiety that begins to bubble within his gut. “Yeah. Why not?”


“Dean,” Y/N’s voice is stern all of a sudden. You can tell that she’s just as taken aback by the proposal as he is, but is trying not to show it. “If you say yes to this, I don’t want you to half-ass it? This is a real big deal for me, you know?”


“Look, do you want a date to this wedding or not?”


Y/N  then bites her lip, contemplating. The elder Winchester’s eyes never leave her as he watches, waiting for response, until she finally agrees.


“Okay.” She says. A small smile then twitches on her lips, and Dean can see she’s trying to suppress.


“ Okay. Awesome. I’m gonna call S/P/N and see if there’s anything more I need to know yeah?” She asks. He nods.


“Sure.” Dean says. “It’s fine with me.”


“Sure?”


“Mhm.” He knows he is, because the smile that breaks through Y/N’s authoritative face then is something definitely worth the decision. Her cheeks indented with dimples, she smiles, shaking her head, and then walks out to make the call. On the way out, she makes sure she butts her shoulder into his, just for fun. Dean lets out a nervous chuckle.


She’s gone. The empty library is silent, and that’s when his heart starts to thud.


Over and over, like a vicious doldrums. The silence only accentuates the sound of his rapid heartbeat, as the elder Winchester allows in a deep breath. His eyes flutter shut, and the anxiety begins to melt away gradually.


This is gonna be a hell of a wedding.


                                                  ~*~*~*~

Part 2

I’ve been in my feelings for Dean for the past few weeks so bear with me pls. Also, I’m very excited for this story; more chapters to come, hopefully soon.

As always, likes, re blogs and general feedback is greatly appreciated!

Stiles always thought that Derek was attractive; even when Stiles 16 and still trying to figure his sexuality out, even when he had been running from things that went bump in the night. 

He thought Derek was attractive when he was clean shaven, when he had stubble, when he laughed, when he glared. Derek was just really good looking.

For a long time Stiles thought that maybe he had built Derek up in his head, that he hadn’t been that ascetically pleasing and his memories were making him better than he had been. They weren’t.

It had been eight years since Stiles had last seen Derek Hale, he had graduated from college, he owned a supernatural bookstore out in Boston and had been a sought after specialist for a couple years by the time he saw Derek again, but when he did it was like a punch in the gut.

The years had been kind to Derek, his eyes were brighter than ever, his hair long and tied back into a bun, his beard full and flecked with gray. He looked like a mountain man with his worn Woolrich jacket and faded jeans.

Stiles knew that he had aged well too, that his shoulders were broad and strong, that he was a few inches taller than he had been at 17, that his smile could charm even the crankiest of supernatural creature, but most of all he knew that he was worthy of love and attention. 

Derek noticed the changes, but more than that, he really saw Stiles. He looked at Stiles like he hung the damn moon. 

From that day on they were inseparable, a team. They worked on supernatural cases, from hauntings to helping the police, from saving children from hunters to hunting creatures that killed children. It worked well for them, it was a good life. 

And at night, after they had staved off the end of the world for another day, they’d lay in bed together, Derek’s head in Stiles lap while Stiles read. Stiles would card his fingers through Derek’s long hair and both of them would wonder how they got so lucky. 

But luck had nothing to do with it. Some people, well they’re just mean to find each other. 

anonymous asked:

Wth is 17776?

It’s… a webcomic I guess? It’s an interesting format. 

But it’s a sci-fi, it’s the year 17776 and for unknown causes humanity has become immortal. The earth has been inhabited by the same 8 billion odd people for 15,000 years, and they’ve had to create increasingly weird ways to stave off boredom in eternity. One of those things is football. But like. Really, really weird versions of football.

The main story follows three space probes: Pioneer 9, Pioneer 10, and Jupiter Icy Moons Explorer(nicknamed Juice). Yeah, I know, sounds like it has nothing to do with the other stuff. Over those 15,000 years they’ve become sentient and developed their own personalities, and communicate with each other as they watch the humans try to deal with their endless lives. They watch them play football. Really weird football.

It’s hilarious, and also coated in existential dread and musings about the nature of humanity. It’s still currently updating, I think there are only a few updates left, so it’s not particularly long. If you want to read it, you can find it here!

Just a reminder that Varric grew up taking care of his alcoholic mother and staving off her drunken rages while Bartrand was off making money and throwing parties.

Just a reminder that Varric was emotionally abused and toyed with by his ex-girlfriend.

Just a reminder that Varric apologizes even when he did nothing wrong.

Just a reminder that Varric blames himself for bad things that happen to his friends when he’s around.

Just a reminder that Varric loses his home to someone he thought he could trust.

Just a reminder that Varric’s own brother betrayed him and left him for dead just for some money.

Just a reminder that Varric isn’t as put together as he acts. He’s been hurt, abused, betrayed, and he tries to bear the burdens of those around him. He’s a man who uses humor to hide how hurt he is. Varric is a man who is kind and extremely generous even after all he’s been through.

Varric is a man who loves deeply and genuinely despite all the pain he has endured at the hands of loved ones and trusted friends. He is a man who thinks often of his friends from Kirkwall, sounding so happy when he speaks of them.

Varric is precious and should be protected.

The Friendly Wager (Part 6)

Summary: AU. Reader and Bucky Barnes are neighbors and best friends. After yet another bad date, reader comes home to find Bucky with his typical weekend target. They decide to make a wager about dating, but is there more on the line than reader cares to admit?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 4,608 (went really overboard)

Warnings: language, lots of bad language, fluff, sarcasm, drinking, implied drunkenness, angst, regret, hangover, confrontation, stupid feelings are stupid yeah?

A/N: This is my submission for the lovely Kait’s ( @bionic-buckyb) 5k AU Challenge. Congrats on the followers, friend! My prompt was “Can you please come over so I don’t feel so alone?

Second to last part! Tags are closed. I loved all your messages so much!

Part 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

Originally posted by captaincentenarian

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🎶 Practicing Tips 🎶

This is mostly for university students who practice several hours a day, but it could def be helpful for any musician 😋

1) Have water!!! If you play an instrument with repetitive movements (trombone, Piano, strings, percussion, etc) drinking water can help stave off muscle cramps

2) HAVE AND USE YOUR METRONOME if anything is difficult, start it slowly with a metronome and gradually speed it up until past where you need it to be. Ex. final tempo 100, start 70-75-80…100-105-110. Then playing it at 100 should be easy! You can also do this with entire pieces (do the same thing a few days in a row for the optimum outcome)

3) Rhythmatize! Instead of playing something as straight 16ths, play it in groups of 2 or as triplets or doted eight 16ths etc with a metronome, then playing it straight is super easy. (planning to make a post about this with pics)

4) Use your pencil! I know there’s some kind of judgemental standard where having like no marking on your music except fingerlings is “mature” but that’s such BS. If you make a mistake more then 2-3 times, MARK IT. I photocopy all my music so I can scribble all over it and not feel guilty for destroying original music. That way too you can label it “2016 Prof John” and then when you revisit that piece or teach or if a friend learns it, you can see exactly what you were thinking when you did it.

5) If you make a mistake, don’t automatically go back a few notes and keep going or just fumble over it and keep going. STOP AND DECONSTRUCT THE PROBLEM! (Unless you’re practicing performing and you’re purposely not stoping obvi)

6) Have your phone or iPad + charger so if you’re practicing for several hours, you can take a break to listen to the pieces you’re playing, compare bowlings, articulations, dynamics of diff performers, compare to the score or piano part etc. Then you don’t have an excuse to leave your practice bubble.

7) STRETCH!!! Regardless of weather you’re playing Rachmaninoff on piano or Revel on flute, stop and stretch your arms, neck, wrists, back and maybe even hips. This way you can practice longer without soreness or cramping and you have less chance of injury. Do this before and after practice as well. (will make another post with pics for this)

8) Take breaks! Depending on what you’re playing, how long you’ve been practicing, etc. take breaks every 15-40 mins. You can check your tumblr/twitter OR you can listen to your pieces, do score study, stretch, take a walk outside your practice room. Also, maybe split your practice? 2h before class and 2h after class?

9) Don’t play through! Chunk things, deconstruct things and have a specific goal for each time you play a section. Then when you’ve played all the chunks of a page for example, play though it all together slowly then speed it up with metronome.

10) If you’re getting frustrated or stuck on something STOP! Take a break or work on something else and come back to it.

11) Start with scales or tonalizations or a comfortable study or warmup every day. I know it’s annoying, but if you have like a 10min routine that you start your practice with every day, your intonation will improve AND your mind & body will get used to focusing in and starting your practice every day. DONT ZONE OUT OR PLAY MINDLESSLY! Have a goal to improve a specific skill or aspect of your warm ups every day. (If you’re having multiple practices in the same day, you can probably just do 2mins of the same warm ups to get in the zone for 2nd or 3rd practice sessions)

12) Touch on everything at least a little everyday. Even if you don’t have time to deconstruct and practice everything in chunks, at least go through each piece/study/excerpt, etc every day with special attention to what you focused on in your last practice.

13) Once you’ve “finished” with a piece (performed it, played for a jury, etc) DONT STOP PLAYING IT! Revisit it a MINIMUM of 2x week, then if when you need a piece for a masterclass/unplanned performance, you can just spend a little extra time practicing and you’ll be all set.

14) Don’t wait till the week before your performance to practice with your accompanist! If you practice with your accompanist every week or 2 after you’ve mastered a piece, then when you have a performance, you and your accompanist will be super comfortable playing together. (This can be expensive with a professional collaborative pianist, so maybe try to use a 4th year piano performance major? Still worship them tho obvi, they are heros)

15) Try playing with recordings, esp diff recordings, or with a midi on a music program so you can be adaptive, if you can play your piece well at diff speeds with diff rubato, diff dynamics, then playing it the way you like it is easier.

16) Play for your friends once in a while. If you’re like me, you have a lot of rep and you don’t get to play it all in your lesson, maybe you only touch everything every 3 weeks with your prof? And maybe you’re not ready to play everything in masterclass all the time (bc that’s insane lol) so just playing through for your friends once in a while could get you some super helpful constructive criticism once in a while.

Hope this helped some of you 🎻😎🎵

Pocket Change | 1 | (M)

word count: 7.5k

genre: smut; supernatural AU + demon!yoongi

pairing: reader/yoongi

warning(s): mentions of domestic abuse

special thanks to: @honeyheonie for being a wonderful beta  ♡

masterlist

Originally posted by sugaa

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