the quotes made sense in my head

4

“I live in the Melody Mobile Home Park. It’s just me and my mom…and my mom, my mom is the best! But my mom, she’s sick. I do what I can but…but I’m scared. Sometimes, I get too scared to stay there at night ‘cause I’m afraid…she can’t make it and if she goes, when she goes, I got nobody else. Look…I think being with you guys is good for me.”

  • Letho: So, this profession as witcher has been going on for...?
  • Lambert: 20 years.
  • Letho: And your first name again is...?
  • Lambert: Lambert.
  • Letho: And your boyfriend's name is...?
  • Lambert: Aiden.
  • Lambert: FUCK! I misunderstood! You said boyfriend? I thought you said best friend
Hamilton Characters as Things People in My School Have Said

Alexander: “My bullshit senses are tingling.”

Aaron: “Sometimes I walk in here and I just wanna rip the heads off of small children.”

Laurens: “FLAMING HOMOSEXUAL!”

Lafayette: “Dude, you made me drop my croissant!”

Hercules: *in a Batman voice* “Can I eat your ass?”

Angelica: “Who hands out a girlfriend application?”

Eliza: “ I just got further with a dog than any other man in my life.”

(And) Peggy: “Today has been a great week!” 

Washington: *sarcastically* “Europe and Asia are fake states!”

Jefferson: *someone has a piece of grass in their mouth* “I hope a deer pissed on that.”

Madison: *coughs* “Just casually dying over here.”

Maria: “I’m a child of God!” “No you’re not!”

Philip: “Wait?! Math team was today?!”

King George III: *throws binder on the ground* “WHY WON’T YOU LOVE ME?!”

Samuel:  *about curly hair* “Your hair is as straight as I am.”

A duet sung  by himself

Hi! I hope you like this one, it’s a little shorter than what I usually post. :)

Summary: Harry takes his time for many people, however, not for his girlfriend.

This very, very lovely picture is not mine, sadly.

I bit my lip and squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself not to let the tears gathered in my eyes spill over. He’d promised me.  A hiss left my mouth at the memory of him even rolling his eyes when I’d made him give me his word a second time, as if I were being completely ridiculous for doubting him. But of course I’d been right to do so, even though it was for nothing. Because he wasn’t here. And he hadn’t been here when I would’ve needed him to be either.
The dress I’d put on had long been traded for a shirt and my face washed and cleaned from any make up. After, I’d climbed into bed and nestled down, for the first time loathing how much the bed and pillows smelled of Harry.
I hadn’t asked for much, either. Only to be home by seven pm and to accompany me to a dinner my friend had organized, like any other couple occasionally did.
I kept wondering if he even cared for how much he disappointed me. He most likely didn’t, or else my phone wouldn’t be as empty of messages or calls from him as it was.
My fingers angrily brushed at my cheeks and I gave in to the tears, allowing sobs to wreck through my body. Ugly sniffles and cries filled the room and I would’ve been embarrassed by it, if my pain and anger wouldn’t have taken up all the space for any other emotions.

All those perfect moments with Harry, where he swore his love for me and that he wished for us to never be apart, seemed to mean so little every time he let me wait up for him, with no word of where he was. How could he truly mean it when he said he wanted me always, when I was so easily pushed to the side once someone else offered their time to him.

I was too caught up in letting myself drown in my feelings so I didn’t hear him enter the house or walking up the stairs. A heavy knock on the door made me flinch and bit down on my pillow, trying and failing to quieten my sobs. Oh, please go away.

“Y/N, my love, I am so sorry.”

The mere sound of his lovely, raspy voice had another wave of tears running down my face and I shook my head. One dinner. For the first time in months, I’d asked him to do something for me, and he’d let me down.
I whimpered when the door handle rattled and Harry sighed, realizing that it wouldn’t open to him.

“You locked me out of our room?”

My heart ached at the evident pain in his voice. We’d fought before and often quite loudly, but never had either of us refused to let the other sleep in the bed. No matter how angry or upset we were, the night would be spend by each other’s side, even if the touching was kept to a minimal. This made having arguments with Harry less frightening and gave them a silver lining to look forward to. But this time, I couldn’t bear to have him in bed with me.

“Yes.”

A thumb came from the door and I could imagine him resting his forehead against the wood in exhaustion. His eyes squeezed closed and his hair a mess from pulling at the soft strands in distress. It was, after all, two am and he’d left the house at eight in the morning.

“Y/N,” Harry whined, “Don’t wanna sleep on the couch, baby. Please, don’t make me, c'mon.”

My hands fisted the bedsheets and I pulled them up to my chin.

“Go away, Harry.”

The door handle rattled again, even though he knew that it was for nothing. I wasn’t going to unlock the door no matter how big of a scene he’d start to make. Still, I hoped that he would leave me be, that he’d somehow sense how I couldn’t take an argument right now.

“You’re crying. M'not gonna go anywhere ‘til I got to make it better,” Harry’s soft voice hummed.

My arms ached to be holding my boyfriend’s body and to feel his warmth. I sighed at how much it hurt to have pain inflicted by a person you love and ironically, said person being the only one who could lessen it.

“You can’t make anything better anymore, Harry. You already missed dinner!” I called, the words strained and my voice broken from all the crying.

My vocal cords were sore and I heard Harry’s sigh through the door. A soft knock followed, so soft actually, I’d almost missed it. He knew he was in trouble.

“Y/N,” he spoke, “I’m begging you. You’re hurt and I understand, baby, but we cannot move past this if you don’t let me into this room tonight. It’ll all build up and get worse, you know I’m right.”

Yeah it would build up and get worse, I wasn’t an idiot. But seeing his face while hearing his excuses just wasn’t what could’ve changed anything to the better at the moment. I already was embarrassed and nothing he’d say would make it better. They seemed so meaningless to me now anyway and I couldn’t deal with them, not when his clear green eyes got teary, his brown hair framing his lovely face and his pink lips bitten and swollen. A sight that would always break my heart and make me open my arms to welcome him.
He’d messed up and I wasn’t going to just forget about it, for the sake of saving him from feeling guilty.

Another knock.

“Baby.”

I didn’t reply. Silence settled between us and I already believed he’d left when he spoke up again, or rather: he sang.

“You know the world can see us. In a way that’s different than who we are.”

My teeth pulled at my bottom lip and I rolled my eyes. Leave it to Harry for taking me not seriously. What’s new?

“S'your turn,” Harry encouraged and I shook my head. He continued: “Creating space between us 'til we’re separate hearts. But your faith it gives me strength. Strength to believe… Oh Y/N, We’re breaking free. We’re soaring, flying. My love, there’s not a star in heaven, That we can’t reach…”

My feet landed on the cold tile wooden floor as I pushed myself out of bed. I angrily unlocked the door and pulled it open, meeting Harry with tears in my eyes and surprise in his.

“If we’re trying, yeah we’re breaking free.Can you feel it building, like a wave the ocean just can’t control-”

“Shut up,” I spat.

“Wrong line, babe,” Harry commented with a grin on his lips, but it faded once he noticed the tears on my flushed cheeks.

His expression fell and lips parted. I raised my eyebrows and tilted my head.

“Not so funny anymore now, is it?”

Harry’s Adam-apple moved visibly when he swallowed hard. “Y/N, I’m sorry. Let me expla-”

“No.”

He nodded and held up both hands. “Right. You’re hurt and I-”

“Do you have any idea how much you embarrassed me today?,” I asked, interrupting him once more, “How disappointed I am with you? No, of course you don’t. Because Harry Styles thinks of many people and pleases all of them, but putting his girlfriend first for once? God no.”

My voice hurt and so did my head. Both of my eyes ached with how tired I was. All in all, I had quite obviously, no nerves for his jokes.

“Y/N,” Harry began and stepped closer so he could lean in a bit. His smell took over my senses and made me feel dizzy. “You’ll understand once you let me-”

“Will I? 'Cause I doubt it, as you can’t even comprehend how serious I am with this! You come home at 2 am and start quoting some Disney song, thinking I’d easily sing along and fall into bed with you later! Forget it!”

The anger cursing through my veins kept me from getting weak knees at how soft his pink lips looked as he bit it and how his green eyes sparkled with worry and regret. I could ignore how much my body ached to have him near.
Finally, Harry didn’t say anything anymore, not even when I slammed the door in his face.
I’d forgive him eventually, of course I would. Harry and I loved each other more than anything.
However, maybe sleeping on the couch for the first time in our one year relationship, would make him realize that he couldn’t take me for granted. And I was sure he knew it too, as he didn’t try to reopen the door again that night, even though I’d left it unlocked.

Hope you liked this! I decided that I want to start posting short One shots like this one during the week, maybe without proofreading them. Like that, I can post more and leave the long stories for the weekend. 

Part two: http://harryimaginedstories.tumblr.com/post/152952006393/a-duet-sung-by-himself-part-2

Rest of what I wrote can be found here:

 http://harryimaginedstories.tumblr.com/post/144920695218/masterlist

The Contest-Part 24

To celebrate Supernatural’s 15th season, the producers have decided to hold a contest to cast an unknown in a recurring role as Sam’s rumored love interest.  They are doing open casting calls all over the country.  Your best friend Nikki wants to go and she drags you along.

A/N: My inspiration for Nikki is the one and only Red, AKA@oriona75.  So I am actually telling two stories here, Jared and Readers, and Sam and Gemini’s.  It flips back and forth, so try and keep up! :)

Characters: Jared Padalecki, Reader, Best friend Nikki(OC) Jensen Ackles, Misha Collins, Mark Sheppard, Mark Pellegrino, Rory Montgomery (OC), PA Emily (OC) Cliff, Other Supernatural cast and crew

Master List

Part 1 (all parts are linked)

Gemini

The trip to Detroit was quiet and tense.  It was a 14-hour drive, so we decided to stop halfway and break up the trip.  Sam and I got our own room, and Cas bunked with Dean.  It wasn’t clear to me if the angel actually needed to sleep, but I know I sure did.

“If only we could get angel blades and demon knives through airport security.” I joked to Sam as we got ready for bed.

He shook his head. “Dean doesn’t fly.” He said shortly.

“Why not?” I asked curiously.

“He’s terrified of flying. I’ve flown with him twice because we had no choice, and I will NEVER do it again.”

“You mean to tell me Dean Winchester, who has killed countless demons, monsters, angels, and even Death himself is afraid of getting on an airplane?” I began to laugh at the absurdity of it, and I laughed so hard I cried.

That night I dreamed of Missouri again, but this time she wasn’t alone.  There was another person with her, but she was hidden in the shadows, and I wasn’t able to make out her features.

 She whispered to me softly. “Through you, I will have my revenge on Lucifer,”

Keep reading

4

I decided it was time to break out the paints again. It’s been ages since I painted anything and I’ve only ever really done landscapes so it made sense to start with one of the many great landscapes in the show and since this shot is of the back of Claire’s head, I thought I might be able to manage. 

So thanks to all the artists in the fandom––especially those like @outlanderedandoverhere who have come back to it after breaks like me. You’re so inspiring and I probably wouldn’t have come back to it without your example to follow. ; )

*slides this here bc im still Not Happy With It but i also dont know if i even wanna continue it but i need to put it somewhere also @fangirl383 might or might not shoot me with her pink gun if i dont post Another wip she liked and i promised i would ha  h a*


“Listen, I know this isn’t an ideal situation—” Malfoy snorted in contempt. Harry ignored him. “But we’re doing a job and if you could not act like someone’s roping you into.. Into-  What the fuck are you doing n- ow” Harry groaned as Malfoy’s elbow somehow collided with Harry’s mouth despite the fact half of his body was half on top of Harry, and, rationally, it had to be an accident. But if there was someone who would contort themselves to make Harry’s life the most difficult possible, it would be Malfoy.

“Shut up, Potter.” The git said, not even bothering to apologize.

“Will you stop moving-”

“I’m trying to get a clear view.”

“Do you need to climb on me to do that?!”

“Well actually, I do since your intelligence landed us in a literal hole,” Malfoy hissed in his ear. Harry opened his mouth to protest that, but well. It was true, his team had been the one to inspect the terrain and find them their hiding spot - a cave so narrow that was indeed more of a hole, nestled at the bottom of a cliff, large enough to fit 1.25 person lying stomach down. Or two aurors, lying practically on top of each other, as it were. The location was ideal because it had a side view of the site they believed to be the smuggling ring HQ, but far enough that the protean spells didn’t reach it, and was naturally conspicuous through dense trees and small rocks (and for being as tiny as a rabbit hole, Malfoy had grumbled moodily) so they didn’t need to use so much magic to disguise themselves. A natural hiding spot, nearly undetectable, but not particularly comfortable, Harry had to give it to Malfoy.

Also it was just… weird to argue with someone when they were hissing against your neck. Harry scratched his nails where Malfoy’s warm breath had tickled it.

“What do you have those dorky glasses for if you need to strain so much.” Harry muttered pettily against his wand, currently pressed between his face, his sweaty hand and a piece of rocky earth. Ugh, it was so hot in here, the air thick and still, made all the worst by the invisibility mantle they had thrown over themselves; all the places he and Malfoy touched felt as if on fire, he had dirt everywhere and Malfoy’s huffed breathing on his ear did absolutely nothing to cool him down, only gave him weird goosebumps in his spine. Harry squirmed miserably, and got a very pointed elbow in the ribs for his trouble.

“My glasses aren’t dorky” Malfoy hissed in supercilious indignation. If Harry didn’t have to risk torticollis to do so, he would have turned his head to watch his eyes flash all his mad inventor righteous fury.  “They are high level magical object research in trial period, designed to help oafs like you not get killed in the line of work. My glasses, dorky, honestly, you of all people saying that with those things you wear around since school-”  

“What are you talking about, I’ve been told my glasses are quite fetching. Witch Weekly did a whole article on it.” Harry grinned as Malfoy ground his teeth. He’d take all the amusement he could get, after all, and riling up Malfoy was always so much fun.

“Oh, if the pinacle of journalism in our country, Witch Weekly printed it” Malfoy said snidely. Then, as if physically unable to stop there, he continued. “For your information, these glasses are curse repellent, heat vision, magical signature identifying ones. It won me a research funding from the Research and Extension Division-”

“Yeah alright Doc Brown, what do you see then?” Harry interrupted, stretching his back in an attempt to soothe his aching shoulders.

“Nothing uh, much. Will you keep still?” Malfoy murmured, voice strained.

“I barely even mov-” Harry started to protest in indignation, but was cut off by Malfoy’s sweaty hand suddenly pressing against his mouth.

“Shhhh, someone’s coming.” Harry immediately tensed—well, as much as he could in this current predicament, as he could barely grip his wand. Thank Merlin he’d gotten better at wandless magic.

He could hear a faint rustling sound; Malfoy moved his hand into the curve of his neck and it felt oddly comforting. Harry could feel all of Malfoy’s muscles tensing where they pressed together.

Malfoy fiddled with his wand, and Harry faintly prayed he wouldn’t accidentally stab him in the eye with it, because that was just the type of thing to happen to him.

Somebody jumped on the plateau they were directly under, boots scuffing the ground above them.

“That’s it?” A voice echoed. Harry could see Malfoy pointing his wand at another one of his “assistance magical artifacts ” or as Harry called them, his crazy inventor gadgets. It was a little box, similar to a radio, and it buzzed softly at Draco’s murmured incantation, releasing the faintest golden glow.  

“Mmhm, just leave the merch on the front hall.” The person above them said. “Talk to Bre and only Bre, then get the fuck out. There’s a new shipment coming, and everyone’s on edge, don’t hang around more than you have to.” A new shipment. This could be their shot. Harry willed whoever was above them to casually drop a date. Possibly a location. And a list of names. His knees hurt.

“Right, no worries Reg. I’ll be in and out in a peep” A pair of gangly legs dangled in front of them, stumbled over a rock, and then took off briskly towards the house in the woods.

Malfoy shimmied above him, trying to get a closer look. He brought the little box close to his mouth.

“Suspect: Male, red hair, medium stature, grey robes, carrying a medium sized black box.” Malfoy said into it. A recording device, then. Clever.  “Entered the house at -” he paused expectantly, and Harry cast a quick tempus “12:47, sunday the 24th. The box doesn’t appear to be the size or type for containing snakes, so it’s possible it’s another type of ‘merchandise’.” Malfoy put the recording contraption back in his pocket, balancing himself with one hand at the small of Harry’s back.

Harry scowled, unamused at being used as a cushion.

“Next time, I’m topping.” He grumbled.

“What?”  Malfoy choked out, hand slipping down Harry’s back into his side, knuckles thudding against the bedrock.

“In the- the stakeout” Harry hissed, embarrassed. “I’m not your damn pillow.” He grumbled. Malfoy started to shake above him, his whole body vibrating, and with growing chagrin Harry realized he was laughing. He dropped his head into Harry’s shoulder, trying to stifle his giggles.

“Don’t worry Potter, I’ll be your pillow if you want. I’m very comfortable switching between top and bottom after all.“ He quipped, amusement laced in every word. Harry could feel his blush spreading like fire from his neck to the tip of his ears, and he dropped his head between his arms with a disconcerted groan.

“Oh my god, shut up.” He mumbled, and Malfoy laughed even harder, gleeful and evil, shaking Harry’s whole body. “Is there movement above us?” He said loudly, mostly to stray from the topic at hand.

“Hm.” Malfoy projected a small map of the terrain from the tip of his wand. “Nope. Reggie dear is…currently at the bottom of the hill, down the other side. You know, I don’t know what you’re complaining about, Auror Potter. You’re practically just lying there, I’m doing all the work here.” He drawled, injecting unnecessary lewdness to his voice, still faintly amused as it was. Harry could swear he seemed to be purposefully pressing even closer, his words just short of murmured against his ear.

The git.

“Lying here- How can I- You’re on top of,” Harry started, and felt Malfoy giggle again, then huffed and promptly shut up. “You’re fired.”

“You’re not my bo-oss” Malfoy sing songed, but moved out of his position anyway, sliding away from Harry and turning on his side.

Harry felt disinclined to face him while his cheeks were still flaming.

“Oh come on Potter, where’s your sense of humor?”

“You didnt seem to be in such a jaunty mood a minute ago.”

“Yes, your mortification greatly lifts my spirits.” A beat. “I’m versatile like that.”

Harry sighed, lifting his head. “I hate you so much.”

“That’s kind of why we’re here, isn’t it?” Malfoy hummed, cheek smushed against the palm of his hand. Harry made a noncommittal sound. They were here in a partly punishment mission to quote unquote ‘learn how to act like the twenty-three year old Auror you are, not a snotty fourteen year old whenever Auror Malfoy is concerned’, after his (and Malfoy’s) respective partners filed complaints against their methods and their fighting and their case-point competition. So while it was true their behavior got them here, saddled together in this weird, uncomfortable stake out, Harry wouldn’t say hate was what brought them; he didn’t argue with Malfoy or looked over his cases or felt the need to prove himself and best him out of hate, it was more of a… compulsion. It was just more fun, in the often glum and dreary line of work they’d chosen, to have Malfoy pay attention to him, meet him at every curve and breathe down his neck. To watch him rising to his baits when he poked fun at Malfoy’s clothes and hair and (admittedly ingenous) inventions. He admitted to himself that he liked the rivalry, was motivated by it.

But, of course, Harry wouldn’t tell him any of that. And it’s not like he enjoyed Malfoy literally breathing down his neck, so Harry pulled out his wand and checked the map himself instead of answering.

“There's… something moving through the field” Harry said, looking the small dot moving in a hurry. It was too small and moved strangely for a human. Could it be…

Malfoy rolled on top of him again, straining once more to try and see the scope of land.

Harry waited, tense as Malfoy tried to get a clear view.

“Oh.” Malfoy said, muscles unlocking from his coiled stance. “It’s your reptile.”

Harry lifted his head suddenly eager in an attempt to see, banging it painfully against Malfoy’s chin in the process.

“Fuck,” Malfoy hissed, quickly rolling as far away from him as was possible, which in case meant they still touched thigh to shoulder even with Malfoy on his side with his back pressed against the stone. He sent Harry a dark look, clutching his chin; Harry patted his head as condescendingly as he could, turning back to the map, eyes glued to little wiggling dot heading for them.

“Missster Harry, Missster Malfoy” Arnaud hissed in greeting, poking his scaly face into their cave, then quickly sliding into the middle of them both. Arnaud turned his head to Malfoy, flicking his tongue in further acknowledgement since he couldn’t understand him.

“Hey” Harry greeted with a smile even as he inspected him for any sign of injuries. “Is everything alright?”

Arnaud turned to him.

“Yesss, it’s all been really quiet. They’ve mosstly kept us in the cages ssso far, and I snuck out without them ssseeing me. They’ve received five more younglings today, along with eggsss, and theress a boy bringing something else. Sssomething I couldn’t sssee.”

“Did you hear something about another shipment coming tonight?”

“Yess” Arnaud said, lifting his head. “I hear the humans talking. Tonight, at midnight.”

 “The smugglers have been quiet, but more snakes and eggs were brought in today, and something else he couldn’t see. He confirms there’ll be a new shipment at midnight.” Harry translated.

“We have to report it back to the team. See if it’s the time for an ambush or to collect more data” Malfoy said. Arnaud nodded in approval.

“I should get back before they miss me.” Harry nodded, even as his stomach tightened.

“Tell him to be careful.” Malfoy said, looking out with furrowed eyebrows. Arnaud flicked both of their fingers and slithered quickly out with a hissed don’t worry.

“That’s our out then.” Harry sighed turning sideways too. Malfoy was staring at him, pressed as far back as he could against the rock wall; there was maybe an inch between them.

“You’ll write the report.” Malfoy said, trying to sit up slightly.

“What? Why?” Harry spluttered.

“You headbutted me.” Harry narrowed his eyes.

“You elbowed me in the face!” He shot back. Malfoy stared him down. Harry held his gaze. His eyes looked very dark in the shade.

“Rock parchment wand?”

“…Fine”

.

Malfoy was leaning against the wall of Kingsley’s office. The dark red wood set his hair off rather nicely, Harry noticed. With Arnaud perched on his shoulder like that, he could be a slytherin poster boy.

Robards was still complaining in the back, something about Harry and Malfoy competing for leads and ethics and immaturity or something. Harry wasn’t paying attention. His and Malfoy’s… methods were always questioned, but here they were, another case closed, weren’t they? That’s what should matter.

Behind Robard’s back Malfoy caught Harry’s eye, smirking minutely and winked. Harry bit the inside of his cheek. Prick.

Robards face acquired new shades of red, but Harry wasn’t listening at all. Malfoy outright grinned, bringing one hand to stroke the scales on Arnaud’s head and his stomach felt….weird. Somehow almost…fluttery?

Oh.

Oh.

Well, that was inconvenient.

To My Fandoms,

Just like we all have inter-sectional identities and our complexities of character and behaviour and so much more make us who we are, I found a long time ago that my fandoms are part of who I am and I don’t have to choose between them.

Fandoms give power to fans- a sense of belonging- a sense of community- a sense of freedom.

And even though we are not perfect (and there are obnoxious people in all communities) we are a special kind of family. Because everyone who says that fictional characters are made-up just so that we feel less than who we are - to us they are not just fictional - those people don’t know what they are missing…

And to quote some of my favourite quotes:

“We’re all stories in the end, just make it a good one” 
-11th Doctor, Doctor Who

Of course this is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on Earth should that mean that it is not real?”
-Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter

Basically, I just wanted to say that I’ve learnt so much from these TV Shows, Movies, Books, Music, Youtube communities etc that some people want to dismiss as not good enough, not real enough or brainwashing…

My fandoms are as real as they get, and I want to say a special hello and a thank you to everyone who felt a bit less alone once they discovered their Hogwarts House, their faction, their Doctor… THEIR FANDOM…

Please, reblog this if you are proud of your fandom, try to interact with other fans and share your story of finding your fandoms for life- we are all in this together and we are stronger together…

RANT TIME.

I definitely don’t know how this week is going to end, but I do know one thing. Julie interviewed teens in order to make Skam more realistic, and we may love some plots or be confused by others; but one thing is true, and that’s how down-to-earth this show is.

And it gets on my nerves how easy some people judge the characters. I know they’re not real, but the situation they’re living is a day-to-day one; and it kind of scares me how this confirms that if there’s someone living the same thing in real life he/she would be judged the same way.

So be prepared for a long post (sorry). 

I would like to analise every single clip of every single season, but you’ll get tired of me. Yesterday, with the last update my dashboard went downhill. I don’t know if you all have been in many relationships (i haven’t, btw) but the way you talk would tell otherwise.

I don’t like that Julie decided to create all this drama 4 days before the end, believe me. But since some of you freaked out, I’ll tell you how I see this (I would probably be wrong, but I’d like to see thing from perspective).

- JONAS: We don’t really know why Jonas would do that, all we know about him is from Eva’s and Isak’s pov. He is a very good friend and a nice guy in general, however, dating is not his strong point. His relationship with Eva was toxic due to trust issues that usually come along after cheating and since their ‘love story’ started as the other one you may understand why it turned into that.

Despite that, they did love (or at least cared for) each other. They end up in good terms, but every break up is hard. Eva suffered the most at first, but it seemed like Jonas didn’t even care. Nevertheless, in his clip we see how he does care (maybe a little too much). And when there still are feelings involved, it’s easy to go back to your ex because it’s a ‘territory’ you know and where you feel comfortable.

- EVA: We know that Eva suffered a lot during season 2, but this season she seems more relaxed. This ‘thing’ with P-Chris has been a constant since season 1 and she looks happy with him. If what Vilde said to Jonas is true, she may be developing some feelings for him.

Imagine that, the fuckboy you’ve been hooking up with starts showing you more affection, but you know, the past is the past and you know how good he’s at flirting. She freaks out (she told Chris she was a little stressed) and goes to her ‘happy place’. She and Jonas have always been really good friends and they talk about everything, but the flesh is weak, and they end up hooking up.

In my opinion, she’s having a fight with herself. She doesn’t want to let Chris in because the last time she felt in love, she ended up being lonely, a different person and then broken-hearted. So instead of saying that, she uses the excuse that P-Chris will always be a fuckboy.

- CHRIS: He’s gone to the army and finally decided to mature (naming themselves the Penetrators still gets me, ok?). All this ‘you’re my girlfriend’ banter is cute right now, I hope he doesn’t push it to much (No, is no, you know?)

I would explain all the Emma drama, but I don’t really have a clue about that. Ask Julie, she’s the only one that gets that plot.

What I was trying to say is that sitting on the fence is easy, but controlling your emotions is not. And most of the time the fight is not against others, but your heart against your brain, and that usually ends up in unreasonable actions.

I’m not trying to educate you in socialising or showing you how you have to react. But some of you have the ‘Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Be kind. Always’ quote everywhere, and then you don’t put it into practice.

I’ll recommend you that you try to put into the other person’s shoes. Because judging someone because he/she made a mistake or did something that doesn’t agree with her/his behaviour is not the best decision; you may end up doing something similar and I doubt you’ll like to be judge by that.

And last but not least, remember that they are teenagers. I don’t know how your adolescence was, but mine was a freaking mess. I still have regrets from that time, my head didn’t make any sense and neither did my behaviour. 

I doubt someone will read this, but I had to say it. You’re all so young and it saddens me when you don’t empathize and instead decide to insult.

ALT ER LOVE.

10

‘Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark in the hopeless swamps of the not-quite, the not-yet, and the not-at-all.’

Unofficially Official

Request: Pls do one where Shawn takes you to a hockey game

a/n: still not over those pictures of him at the Leafs game rip me…I hope you all have a Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays!!!

Your name: submit What is this?

Being Canadian, there were a lot of stereotypes that came with the nationality; Apparently, they all lived in igloos, Tim Horton’s was God’s blessing to this earth, you were always nice and polite no matter the circumstance, and everyone lived and breathed hockey.  Now, most of those were true, but the one thing that, according to your friends, made you “un-Canadian” was that you could care less about hockey.

You were never so vocal about your indifference to the game.  So whenever you traveled down to visit your mom’s side of the family in America, they would always ask you about hockey.  You would just nod and smile, acting like you enjoyed the game more than anyone in the world.

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mike ross thoughts

everyone’s like “how could Mike be so dumb” to trust frank so fast and tell him everything and use the phone etc (and i thought the same thing too, like come on, mike, this is prison, be more suspicious) but we know mike has always been pretty naive and too trusting since the start. and then i thought about how at the end of the premiere he said to frank, “why would you do that to me?” Well, in season fun (one) when he was scared of being caught mike asked harvey the same thing, “why would you do this to me?” I’m also pretty sure he said something like this to trevor, or maybe even louis at some point when he screwed him over or tricked him? when i think back through the seasons, mike has always had this really surprised reaction whenever someone hurts him. yet he also has never seemed to think much of himself (aside from knowing he’s smart but not street smart which is just fact.) so this brings me to, basically, mike is so far removed from the idea of intentionally hurting people that he almost can’t even understand why anyone would hurt him. not because he thinks he’s great, but because he just genuinely never considers any reason for it….i don’t think being aggressive or angry is even a thought to him, unless he’s super provoked, like in the promos, or with trevor which was self defense. mike has been physically hurt a lot on suits, like a lot, by pretty much everyone he cares or cared about (if u want a quick list- trevor punched/kicked him, jenny slapped him, rachel slapped him twice, tess’s husband punched and kicked him, louis tried to choke him out….and now he gets beat up in prison. i’,m also probably forgetting some) it’s almost like harvey’s the only one who hasn’t hit him, interesting And each time he either reacted in self defense or he didn’t react at all (on 2nd thought he might’ve started the fight w/trevor? but trevor was bein a dick and saying shitty things to mike and that’s even me talking as a big trevor fan because i love trevor) ANYWAY, the point is, mike’s always been totally confused whenever someone hurts him, even if the same person hurts him over and over again. it’s weird though because he’s had such a shitty hand dealt in life that you’d think he’d be super cynical and super suspicious of everyone, but he’s not. for his sake, in prison, i wish he was. but ultimately, no, i don’t want awful people to make him awful. someone made a gifset of mike a while ago w/ a quote that said something about “nothing’s quite as beautiful as someone who’s survived losing everything but still has a tender heart’ and if that ain’t mike idk what is. does this make sense? because i’ve been analyzing this all in my head for days and while there’s some things that seem to contradict why he’d be so naive but for the most part his track record shows that he just instinctively either sees the good in people or tries to, even if he shouldn’t. which is why harvey’s been trying to teach him to read people for like 1000 years. 

also, slightly unrelated but, mike being in prison brings out all the orphan feelings (imagine his parents being alive and knowing he’s in prison, imagine his parents meeting harvey/etc)….when rachel said “he has no immediate family” my heart fucking BROKE. he does have family in a sense, but no blood relatives at all. I mean, if he’d gotten caught before he stumbled into The Interview & gone to prison, he never would’ve met harvey or rachel and literally there would be no one to visit him. i just get so sad thinking about his parents being dead and i really wish the show would focus more on that sometimes. we clearly saw during the rinaldi episode that he has definitely not dealt with it much at all (nor did he seem to have dealt with it by the time he was talking to the priest either.) i feel like he completely buries the pain for the most part. i know he’s cried about it but in general he seems to not really talk about it and i don’t know why the writers haven’t done more with this…. and yeah we got the flashback ep which was good but i want more. i want to meet mike’s parents. that’s the kind of flashback i want. 

honestly i have no idea where this post was headed, i just am really tired and i really love mike and i’m concerned for his wellbeing, as always. 

oh yeah, and the “narcissistic tendencies’ thing was such bullshit, sorry, bye. 

“I know your type,” he says, all white-suit and his father’s smile, all sprawled out on your mother’s couch, “You’re the doe-eyed, soft-palmed little girl who thinks streetlights look like stars and the ocean is somehow talking back to her. You think forests want you to get lost in them, that the trees are calling your name. Your feet itch at the mention of lost, at the mention of disappearing. 

You’re the type who will kiss me by the end of the night and cry about it later. The type to love something that hurt her. You spend most of the party getting lost in a clear red cup before getting lost in someone else’s body. You hate dancing because it makes you look weird. You hate dancing because you hide yourself too well. You hate dancing because your feet feel heavy and you’re plastered to the ground and everyone around you looks so ethereal.

The type who watches beautiful things but never becomes them. You hang other people’s self portraits in your room and wish you’d wake up to find that they’d moved. You stand half-naked in clear daylight and stare at yourself in the mirror, try to find the places of you that you love, the places of you that you could turn into roadmaps for boys to get lost in.

I know your type.” he says, “You want to turn yourself into a story, into a record, into a painting, something you will find hanging in a museum years from now marveled at by strangers.”

—  Reena B.| The type to turn into art but never to an artist.

For the lovely anonymous soul that wanted a bookstore AU. Fair warning, I like this prompt a bit too much and will probably revisit it.

-

There are worse fates than this, Jim thinks as he flips the lock on the deadbolt. A lot of people run away from their past and problems and own them like an unwanted gift they’re too guilty to part with. Jim doesn’t own his past anymore. He owns a bookstore. 

He’s about to walk away from the door, the early autumn air is exceptionally bitter this morning, but he notices the figure practically slumped in the vestibule. Scruffy, still in scrubs and with a fraying jacket that looks just as worn down as the man himself. 

Jim sighs and waves his hand to Chekov at the cafe counter. They’re going to need a lot of coffee. Possibly spiked.

-

I’m a man set in my ways. Leonard McCoy said one night when Jim kept the store open later than he should and sat on the threadbare couch around the cafe area, a little too close, sharing a bottle of something a little too sweet.

Jim laughed and said that sounded like something a character in any of the books on his shelf would say. 

-

The first time Doctor McGrump comes in, Jim’s reorganizing his Must Read table. This table is organized bi-weekly because as Chekov says, Jim inhales books like people inhale air. It gets lonely in his studio and he has shoddy bootleg cable. Books are company. Books are the opposite of loneliness. 

“‘Scuse me,” Smooth southern drawl like buttery maple syrup on a short stack startles Jim out of arranging the books into a star. He drops Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close on the floor. “I’m looking for a book.”

Jim whirls around, a witty stuck on the tip of his tongue when he gets a look at the guy. Stubble and green eyes, floppy brown hair and a screwed up expression (is he allergic to books?) and definitely the hottest guy Jim has seen all week, month, year, forever. “Uh, yeah.” Jim rubs his hands on his pants for lack of anything to do with the rebellious digits, and licks his lips. “Anything specific?”

“It’s for my daughter. She’s read most of the popular teenager fiction, young adult, I think it’s called?" 

Jim nods, focusing so much on the way the way there might be noticeable grey in the man’s stubble that he trips over daughter. Daughter means wife. White picket fence. Happy family and definitely no room for Jim Kirk, collector of books and lost causes. Fuck. "Yeah.”

“Well, she’s coming to visit me this week and I’d like to have a few books for her.”

Jim feels a million years lighter, like balloons are tugging him up and up into the ceiling. Visiting means separation? Divorce? He grins, realizing he’s a very bad man to want another person to be divorced. “I’ve got some ideas.”

-

He loads McCoy up with his usual picks. (Yes, he’s twenty-seven and still reads young adult fiction). The new Jandy Nelson, his favorite from Walter Dean Meyers, Jacqueline Woodson, a few underrated novels that usually skip the notice of the top YA lists. Well, fuck that. He makes his own lists. 

McCoy buys all ten. Jim had only intended to give him a few choices but McCoy waved him away said, “Trust you,” and handed Jim his credit card. He was impressed. 

-

“What made you open a bookstore?”

“Books are easier to deal with.”

“Than what?”

People. Responsibilities. Expectations. You name it, I’m running from it. 

Keep reading

  • Random woman Howard had sex with: You don't remember. Why am I not surprised?
  • Howard Stark: Don't take it personally. I don't remember what I had for breakfast.
  • Edwin Jarvis: /clearing his throat in the background/ Gluten-free waffles, sir.
  • Howard Stark: That's right.

Doctor Who — Eleventh Doctor Quotes {Sentence Starters}

  • “The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things.”
  • “Didn’t anyone ever tell you? There’s one thing you never put in a trap.”
  • “Bacon. That’s bacon. Are you trying to poison me?”
  • “Good men don’t need rules. Today is not the day to find out why I have so many.”
  • “I’ve never met anybody who wasn’t important before.”
  • “Safe? No! Of course you’re not safe!”
  • “I said you were the most beautiful thing I had ever known.”
  • “We’re all stories in the end. Just make it a good one, eh?”
  • “Oh. Ok. I escaped, then. Brilliant. I love it when I do that.”
  • “Oh, don’t worry, that’s just the beginning. There’s loads more.”
  • “I’ve been running all my life. Why should I stop?”
  • “Let’s start again. Tell me your name.”
  • “No violence, do you understand me? Not while I’m around.”
  • “The good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice versa the bad things don’t always spoil the good things or make them unimportant.”
  • “'Course I came back, I always come back. Something wrong with that?”
  • “No, I have a thing. It’s like a plan, but with more greatness.”
  • “That’s disgusting. What is that?”
  • “Funny how you can say something in your head and it sounds fine.”
  • “Stop this! What are you doing here? What do you want?!”
  • “Yeah, it’s cool. Bow ties are cool.”
  • “LOOK AT ME, I’M A TARGET!”
  • “I’ve seen many things, my friend, but you’re right: nothing quite as wonderful as the things you see.”
  • “I made him say ‘comfy chairs’. “
  • “Excuse me, I’m making perfect sense. You’re just not keeping up.”
  • “Beans are evil! Bad, bad beans!”
  • “There’s one thing you never, ever put in a trap. Me.”