surface watch

I just finished watching Evangelion and I’m so mad.

they warned u bout that ocean bro

especially as someone who hyperanalyzes and reflects on literally any conversation or person i interact with on a day to day basis, im always paranoid and reading into things. finding insults in comments that seem benign on the surface. watching body language. tone of voice. im too sensitive to all of it?

friend talks in a certain manner to me, (me interpreting their voice) sounding less happy to talk to me than usual? slightly irritated with me?? “i guess they hate me now and are going to plot against me. time to CUT TIES.”

im glad over the years ive trained myself not to act so quickly on these impulses. i still feel them regularly and sometimes more intense than others but i try hard to ignore it. cuz idk what else to do.

Recommended Listening: Henry Meets Anne Boleyn - Trevor Morris

He puts a hand to the surface of the water, watches as it ripples underneath his fingertips. Cool to the touch, he sinks his hand down deeper. He reaches sand, holds it in his palm, watches the eerie light of the anchor distort underneath clear water. He moves to stand once again, hands at his belt, the straps of his armor. They land softly in the sand, beside his bow and his quiver. The spray of the waterfall touches bare skin, and he smiles as he wades into the pool of the Oasis.

He keeps his hands above the surface this time, feeling the water rise and rise, until it’s at his waist. Water pours down the cracks of the rocks above, and he closes his eyes as he tilts his face upwards. The breeze sweeps through the long grass, rustles through the trees. Sand rolls over sand, swirling patterns of the earth. He can hear distant birds, the croak of insects far closer. The shade is cool but the sun is ever so warm, beating down on his shoulders and his back.

“And what’s this?” His hands fall to his side as he looks over his shoulder, seeing Dorian with his arms crossed and a pleased smirk on his face. Eyes moving over the line of Lavellan’s shoulders, down the muscle of his back, to what’s hidden underneath the surface. “Aren’t you afraid someone might see you?” Dorian asks as he sits at the edge of the water, dusting off the sand that’s already settled on his armor.

“Someone like you?” Lavellan asks, his smirk matching Dorian’s. He kneels down in the pool until water laps at his chin. “I’m not afraid of any of the scouts seeing me, if that’s what you’re asking. They can deal with a little Inquisitass.” At the sound of Dorian’s laughter, he lets the water swallow him whole. He opens his eyes slowly, watches as his breath goes bubbling to the surface. The sun glitters like diamonds, little drops of light, and all sounds are utterly muted.

He reemerges without a sound, just a deep breath, pushing back strands of hair from his face. He pulls the ribbon from his hair, lets it all fall loose. He pulls it over a shoulder, squeezes the water from it. When he looks at Dorian, he finds he’s standing, mimicking what Lavellan had done minutes earlier. Soft leather and fabric ordained with stylized snakes joins harder dalish leather, staff beside bow. It’s hard not to stare. Lavellan bites his bottom lip as Dorian makes his way towards him. “It’s cold,” he says, such distaste in his voice, a stubborn frown on his brow.

“You get used to it,” Lavellan laughs.

“I’ve gotten used to a great many things with you by my side. Plenty more in the future, I’ll wager.” Dorian says it so casually, so easily, but it makes all of Lavellan’s fidgeting motions go silent. “They really do go everywhere,” Dorian murmurs, a hand reaching out to trace the tattoos that slip down his throat, splay over his chest, his arms, places obscured by water.

Lavellan surges forward, cold, wet hands on Dorian’s face, pressing lips against lips. They’d only kissed once before, that stolen moment in the library, but this confirms what Lavellan already knew. Dorian needed to be kissed, and often. Preferably by him. Dorian’s hands settle on his arms as Lavellan steps forward, pulling Dorian’s lip between his teeth. In the surprise, he pushes his tongue inside, wet and warm, tracing over teeth, another tongue, breathing a small groan into Dorian’s mouth.

Dorian’s hands are moving over every inch of him, fingertips at the bumps of his spine, the curve of his waist. They settle on his hips, squeeze tightly, fingertips against flesh. Lavellan puts one arm around Dorian’s shoulder, his other hand moving through his hair. Another soft groan and Lavellan is moving forward again, desperate and needy, wanting to be closer and isn’t close enough. It’s the final step that does them in, Dorian falling backwards and taking Lavellan with him.

Dorian emerges out of the water with a gasp, elbows in the sand to prop himself up, wet hair sticking to his forehead and looking positively miserable. Lavellan is on his hands and knees over him, laughing helplessly. “Funny is it?” Dorian grumbles. Unable to form words, Lavellan can only keep laughing and nods in reply. With a playful grin, Dorian reaches upwards, tugs at the tip of a pointed ear, and pulls Lavellan into the water beside him. Their laughter echoes in all the hollow places of the oasis, bouncing off rock, lost in the roar of pouring water.

anonymous asked:

I also have a straight friend--who has some investment in not seeing the romance because she is conservative and uncertain whether homosexuality is morally permissible--and who is also a casual. She was furious after TFP, because she declared that they had obviously been telling a romance and ought to have followed through. When I fed her some of the TJLC analysis it was clear that she hadn't been studying the subtext: she just watched the surface narrative and thought, 'yep, that's a romance.'

Wow… I mean… episodes like TSo3 literally brought the subtext to the text level. I am still shocked people still don’t see it, but it pleases me when I read a story like this that Johnlock is this obvious to some people.

Hogwarts House Aesthetics


speaking your mind but only when you know you’re right / dark, quiet corridors / family traditions / only starting arguments you know you’ll win / watching the surface of the water / late night walks / breathing in the cold night air / going out at weird times to avoid other people as much as possible / secrets and mysteries / trashy romance novels / a small group of friends / showing affection only at rare occasions / long dresses / fancy dinners / suspicious glances / the scent of leather / potions / misty mornings 


lying in a field of flowers / herbology / feeling the ground beneath you / sunshine on your skin / laughing together with friends / being surrounded by people you love / messy rooms / creative works / paint stains on your clothes / singing loudly to the music / home cooked meals / cute, comfortable clothes / hot tea / flowers placed everywhere / the smell of fruit / all kinds of pets / loyalty / a good sense of humour / vintage things / standing up for what you believe is right 


books lying around everywhere / intelligence / watching the night sky / asking questions all the time / driving others crazy with your weird knowledge / ink all over your hands / high waisted skirts / watching the clouds fly by / astrology / strange experiments / working in a lab / wind blowing all around you / forgetting to eat because you’re too concentrated on something / daydreaming


cracking fire / adventures / taking risks / being outside a lot / warm, fluffy sweaters / dirty boots / ripped clothes / the smell of wood / always getting into trouble / long evenings / visiting friends / watching a bunch of tv shows / being a little out of the loop because you didn’t pay attention / bravery / hot coffee / marshmallows / dancing in the rain 

Raindrops on eyelashes - Solavellan prompt

(@love-in-nature asked me to write this prompt for @dadrunkwriting night and here it is… It’s after Trespasser)

Staring at the Eluvian, I debated stepping back inside, forgetting all my plans, for just one more moment. My fingertips danced along the shifting surface and watched it create tiny ripples before I emitted a heavy sigh.

No… This decision was made before I met you, ma vhenan.

Tearing my gaze from further temptation, I waved a hand to shut down the flowing connection of the Eluvian. A dying prairie lay before me stretched as a thousand lies uncovered beneath an angry, black sky. Wisps of lightning flickered through thick clouds giving me an unfair reminder. The air tasted wet and fresh, a pungent note of the coming rain the grass desperately required. Salvation would come on swift wings in minutes.

“How fitting.” Bitterness tinged the tip of my words.

Thunder clapped overhead raising the delicate hairs on the nape of my neck and I reveled briefly remembering the last time I felt such electricity. Even on the other side of Thedas - deep in the West - I couldn’t stop my thoughts from reverting back to the woman who held my heart.


Then the sky broke.

Cool sheets of rain bathed the horizon in cleansing aura. I turned my face up to let it wash over the entire year we spent together. Two years separation wasn’t enough, my heart told me. Love. Lust. Solas’ life. Not Fen'Harel.

Warm liquid mixed with the cold rain until all origin from both ran together. Her face as she kissed me for the last time; mine as I wove the spell that released her from me, harm and arm: all so I could save her from the true hurt that would come.

A sigh pushed out my nose and my shoulders shook now that I was free to let go. Images flashed in a slow dance; meeting Ellana, our first kiss, second, the first time we made love and possibilities of many futures if I stayed. I let the symphony play out and drink in the heady elixir to get my fill.

Opening my eyes - hesitant at first - I banished the fleeting warmth and raked the back of my hands over my face, scattering both rain and tear drops from my eyelids.

Facing toward the horizon now clad in dark and burgeoning storm clouds, I took tentative steps that grew bolder the more distance I put between Solas and Fen'Harel. In front of me was my Din'anshiral. There was no turning back. Never was.

Truly, I didn’t want Ellana to see who I became. In my selfishness I wanted her to always remember me as Solas.

Fen'Harel didn’t deserve her.

“Ir abelas, ma vhenan. Ar lasa mala revas.” I whispered as one would to a grave and let go of the one named Solas.

My Boys: Beneath the Surface - Chapter 6

Here goes! Thank you @jia911 for your fast work

 Previous Chapters are HERE.

My Boys: Beneath the Surface – Chapter 6

Owen watched a few feet away from him as Amelia frowned with the cell phone on her ear. The sound coming from the TV prevented him for hearing what she was saying, but Owen wasn’t all that worried about listening. Instead, he would much rather to be looking.

His wife distractedly paced back and forth in the hallway while talking back to whoever she was having a conversation with over the phone, and the healthy glow on her face after spending the entire day outside in the sun didn’t escape Owen’s eyes. The colorful pajama shorts exposed her toned, shapely legs and bare feet. The gray tank top she was wearing provided him with a vision of her adorable cleavage, her chest going up and down with every breath as she excitedly spoke. Owen’s eyes lingered on her round, petite shoulders and the way her entire body moved as she now laughed at something the person on the line had said.

The trauma surgeon completely gave up on the news reporter who now talked incessantly on the TV, watching his wife with a delighted smile on his face. Even though over the years Amelia had turned into a responsible adult, mom of five and head of department, to him she would always be that lively, smiley young woman who liked to give tight hugs and devoted herself completely to everything that was important to her.

Keep reading

- Person A, the tall one in the relationship, holding objects high above their head just to watch a short Person B try to jump for it.

- Person A stunned into absolute silence as they instantly fall in love with Person B smile/laugh

- Person A having a motorcycle and purposely making sharp turns and harsh accelerations just so Person B can hold on tighter

- Person A –a fairly inexpressive individual– learning to use reflective surfaces to watch Person B and secretly smiles at them. What happens when Person B finds out?

- Person A digging Person B out of the snow after an avalanche. Person B proceeds to deliver a cheesy pick up line as they emerge, upon which Person A starts piling snow back onto them.

anonymous asked:

do you know why alex wears her watch like that?

the military generally does that so they can wear one without giving away their position because of a reflective surface on the watch, but other people (like nurses) also wear them like that so they can see the time without having to turn their wrist over while checking someone’s pulse or something like that.

anonymous asked:

To the anon who's new to the fandom: I think maybe binge watching the series gives a different, more on-the-surface experience than watching in real time? I know part of why I grew to dislike Posey is his behavior in promo interviews and at cons.


In the dark
And I’m right on the middle mark
I’m just in the tier of everything that rides below the surface
And I watch from a distance seventeen
And I’m short of the others dreams of being golden and on top
It’s not what you painted in my head
There’s so much there instead of all the colors that I saw

We all are living in a dream,
But life ain’t what it seems
Oh everything’s a mess
And all these sorrows I have seen
They lead me to believe
That everything’s a mess

But I wanna dream
I wanna dream
Leave me to dream

In the eyes
Of a teenage crystallized
Oh the prettiest of lights that hang the hallways of the home
And the cries from the strangers out at night
They don’t keep us up at night
We have the curtains drawn and closed

We all are living in a dream,
But life ain’t what it seems
Oh everything’s a mess
And all these sorrows I have seen
They lead me to believe
That everything’s a mess

But I wanna dream
I wanna dream
Leave me to dream

I know all your reasons
To keep me from seeing
Everything is actually a mess
But now I am leaving
All of us were only dreaming
Everything is actually a mess

We all are living in a dream
But life ain’t what it seems
Oh everything’s a mess
And all these sorrows I have seen
They lead me to believe
That everything’s a mess

But I wanna dream
I wanna dream
Leave me to dream

I wanna dream
I wanna dream
Leave me to dream …

—  “Dream” by Imagine Dragons

In the summertime Dean always tries to pick motels with a pool. He loves his Baby dearly, but her vintage air conditioning system provides little relief from the scorching sun.

After a long day on the road, the Winchester brothers love nothing more than soothing their heated skin with a cool dip in the pool. 

Dean watches Sam surface and toss his wet hair back causing droplets to skitter across the surface of the water. His eyes are closed and he looks so happy and content. 

Dean’s heart swells a little at the sight of Sam enjoying himself. He swims over and wraps his arms around his little brother’s chilled body before leaning in for a kiss. They’re the only guests at the motel in the middle of bum fuck no where, there’s no one around to interrupt them.

They’re pressed up against each other treading water, losing themselves in the kiss.

Sam squeaks a little as Dean slides his hand down to cup his cock through his swim trunks. But just as quick the touch is gone Dean shoots him his trademark smirk before flopping back down under the water.

They have plenty of time to play.