the best of senses fail

anonymous asked:

Could a possibly request a minific from that reblog? If so, could I have gramander and a subtle kindness please. Thank you! P.s. I really love all of your writing, it's just stunning. Like wow. And I hope you're having a beautiful day. Xx


Side note, I write weirdly when I’m sick sooooo sorry if it doesn’t make sense. I shall try my best! :D (proceeds to fail).

All the nurses were in love, it would appear; and it seemed to Newt that they were all in love with the same man. He had only been working at the hospital for about a week when he started noticing it - the way the nurses would light up around 8:30AM every morning on the dot. 

He saw the way they congregated in the hall to look through the door’s little window and spot him. Only Queenie seemed unaffected by the man; kind as ever as Newt watched her take a bouquet of flowers from the man and wish him a good day.

So one day, he decided to corner Queenie about it.

“What is with that bloke with the flowers that’s got every woman’s knickers all in a bunch?” Newt asked, startling Queenie from her work.

“Oh, you mean Mr. Graves?” Queenie said, her normally bright face instantly lighting up. “Of course everyone’s in love with him, he’s such a sweetheart. And quite a looker too, if you don’t mind me saying.”

She winked.

“But why, Queenie?” Newt asked, hefting himself to sit atop her desk. 

“You don’t know?” She asked with a bland little blink, then smiled - something strange behind her eyes. “You know what, you should meet him. He always stops by at 8:30, right here.”

“I don’t see why,” Newt grumbled, suddenly uneasy about meeting this stranger. “Seems silly. He’s just some bloke, right?”

Queenie stood to straighten Newt’s scrubs before shooing him off her desk. 

“Tomorrow, 8:30AM. Don’t forget,” is all she said. 

That night, he tells himself it’s foolish. No, he won’t go to the front desk to meet a total stranger. That’s just dumb…

And yet, there he was - sitting innocently on Queenie’s desk - waiting for a “coincidental” meeting with the man that had the hospital in an uproar. From the door, he had never quite gotten a good look at the man before. So nothing could prepare him for the moment that Queenie suddenly hushed his conversation and nodded at the front door of the hospital.

He was… he was perfect. Tan skin tucked away beneath a stark white button down and a tight black vest. The faintest wisp of chest hair peeking out from the top two undone buttons, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, forearms covered in slick black ink. Simple, flattering black trousers and crisp black boots. Hair pressed back, with just a few rebellious strands tickling his brows. Coffee black eyes, warm in the center like a dollop of cream. 

The man smiled at Queenie, then caught sight of him and blinked - curious, but not perturbed. And when he finally reached the desk, Newt felt his stomach drop at the creamy rich Irish lit of his voice. 

“How’s my girl doing today?” The man purred, and Queenie giggled.

“Right as rain, as always, Mr. Graves,” Queenie said as she stood. “Have you met Newt?”

“‘Fraid I haven’t,” Graves said, turning to address him, and Newt just wanted to melt into the desk and die. Graves stuck his free hand, the hand not holding a beautiful bouquet of wildflowers, out to him and smiled. “Percival Graves.”

Newt opened his mouth at he took the man’s hand, but all that came out was an embarrassing squeak followed by a pain moan of sorts and a crimson red flush. Graves’ smile, if possible, grew warmer.

“You’ll have to spell that one for me,” Graves teased.

Newt,” Queenie said, smacking Newt’s arm pointedly. “Is a new nurse here. I thought he should meet the hospital’s favorite visitor.”

Graves blushed ever so slightly - just the faintest hint of pink - at that and Newt couldn’t help but feel jealous that even when embarrassed, the man blushed so tamely, so handsomely, it wasn’t fucking fair.

“Ah, that,” Graves said, then turned to smile at him again. “Don’t listen to these angels, I’m really not as exciting as they build me up to be.”

Newt squeaked again, then jumped down from the desk suddenly - eager to be away. 

“Right, well, must run. Duties, and all that–”

Queenie stopped him.

“Wait, Newt, take these,” she said, passing the lovely bouquet from Graves firm hands to Newt’s trembling arms.

“Oh, do you not want to take them to your…?” Newt trailed off, stunned.

Graves shook his head.

“No, I never do. Wish them well for me,” Graves said with a little nod, before beaming at Queenie again, “Have a lovely day, Queensies.”

Queenie blew him a kiss goodbye as she quickly scribbled a number on a post-it. 

“Here, take them to this room if you don’t mind, Newt,” Queenie said, “I would do it, but I’m awfully busy.”

Curious, Newt thought as he walked away, hands full of flowers - she didn’t look awfully busy. But she did look mischievous as fuck. 

He takes the flowers to the room that Graves never visited, but brought flowers to everyday. All the way there, he pictured who this person might be. A lovely young lady in a coma, maybe - his fiancee. Sleeping away the years they had promised to each other, too painful for him to see. Or perhaps his grandmother or father. Or a coworker. 

Instead, the room belonged to a bald little girl with big blue eyes and a smile that didn’t deserve to die. Newt slipped the flowers into her lap and melted - taken away for a moment by the light of her excitement - as she buried her face into them and beamed. Her mother wiped away a tear that he daughter didn’t catch, but Newt did. Her father placed them in a vase, only –

There were no other vases… And this man brought flowers every day?

“Rest up now,” Newt said softly in parting, then went about the rest of the day with the stranger - Percival Graves - on his mind. He found himself eagerly listening whenever the nurses spoke his name. He kept track of where the flowers went, a different room each time. He tried to connect the dots, but couldn’t, so finally - he went back to Queenie.

“Alright, spill,” Newt said in a rush, startling her again. “What gives?”

“Hmm? You’ll have to be a bit more specific, honey,” she smiled knowingly.

“That handsome bloke, Graves. What’s up with the flowers?”

“Handsome, hmm?” Asked a voice from behind him, amused and warm and terrifying. Newt just about shot out of his skin - then burned out of it, he was flushing so bad. 

“Running a bit late today, Mr. Graves,” Queenie smiled, winking. Graves chuckled bashfully.

“Forgot the shop keys at my place, set me back a bit.”

“Kind of you to still make the trip,” Queenie said as she accepted the flowers from him as she always did. Graves shrugged.

“They were just going to die if I didn’t. I’d rather them go here where they can slip away making someone smile rather than let them wilt in my shop, unseen. I don’t know why people don’t enjoy wildflowers more,” Graves said. 

“Me neither. Well, their loss. I’m sure that…” she trailed off as she looked at her computer, “Ah! Ms. Johanson will love them. She’s going into surgery today and could use the smile.”

“Perfect,” Graves said, “You’re such a saint, Queensies, you always know where my flowers need to go. Bless you.”

“Wouldn’t be no saint without the man that gave’em,” she said.

Newt blinked, the pieces falling into place.

“You’re a florist,” Newt said bluntly.

Graves blinked. “Yes… you didn’t know?”

“No, I thought…”

Graves chuckled.

“You thought I had a loved one tucked away in a bed here somewhere?” Graves asked, then said, “If I did, I’d be sitting in the chair beside’em every damn day. No, got no one to sit beside, thank God. Single as the day as I was born. I just stop by with the flowers I can’t sell anymore and let Queenie here give’em to a good home.”

Newt blinked.


Graves looked down at his shoes, a flush building lightly on his cheeks. “Foolish, I know. Everyone tells me what a waste of money it is. I could wait another day to sell’em but–”

“–hot,” Newt blurted out before he could stop himself. Silence fell between the three of them. Queenie looked far too pleased for Newt’s comfort.

He opened his mouth to apologize, but Graves’ shocked face just melted into amusement and a unidentifiable flicker of something Newt doesn’t quite catch before giving Queenie a parting wink.

“Gotta run, Queensies,” he says, then smiles differently for Newt. “Newt.”

And he’s gone, walking away again - his ass a fucking sin in his pants. 

“He’s a good man, that Mr. Graves,” Queenie said as they watched him slip through the hospital’s front doors again. “He’s got that subtle sort of kindness. Don’t you think?”

“So it would seem,” Newt squeaked, “I’m just gonna go lock myself into a closet now and die, bye Queenie.”

“Bye dear!”

The next morning, there’s two bouquets at the front desk. Wildflowers for Mr. Scorsfield in 303b, and a handful of Forget-Me-Nots littered with Daffodils and baby’s breath for Newt, tagged with a little card bearing nothing but a number and this:

You’re not so bad looking yourself.

Avengers Preference: How they are in bed


Clint: Arrogant and cocky, in the fullest sense of the word, this man had memorized the curves of your body and knows just how to manipulate them to wind you up. Teasing and taunting are his weapons of choice once he sets his sights on you as his next target.

Pietro: He’s greedy little bastard. Pietro has to drag his name from your lips whether it be in the form of a plea or a curse. He’ll hold back at first, his fingers offering only the faintest of brushes, his hips grinding into your core with far too little friction. Then, his speed will come in handy as he begins to moan your name too.

Steve: You don’t use the name “Captain” in the bedroom for nothing, Steve has to have his hands all over you while grunting orders as you move together. He’s rough, taking both of your minds off the harshness of the world by taking utmost control of your pleasure and ensuring that nothing else will matter as you come.

T’challa: He has more passion behind those earth brown eyes than one country can contain. T’challa brings all the heat from the jungle and more into the bedroom. The Black Panther suit may aid him in the field, but he proves even more of a force when completely stripped of clothing.

Tony:  L.o.u.d. He loves everyone to know exactly what’s going on behind closed doors. He has no restraints when he’s in such a state of bliss and likes to drag you along as well, prodding screams and savage cursing from your lips with a smirk on his lips all the while.

Scott: Rose petals, scented candles, and even a bottle of wine at the ready. He makes sure that you are comfortable before venturing beneath the sheets, and the gentlemanly ways don’t stop there. While laying claiming every inch of your body, he never fails to make you feel like a proper lady.

Thor: He is always mindful of your smaller body, but never will he treat you like glass. With that loving twinkle in eyes that mirror the sky, he will wrap you up in his powerful arms while you grind down onto him.

Bucky: Bucky is just in awe the entire time. He lays back breathless and wordless, blue eyes wide in disbelief while you shower him with much needed affection. His hands worship over your body, praising you for the goddess you are.

Sam: Witty jokes will always keep you smiling in the bedroom. While his flirtatious nature is often overwhelming in the best sense, he will never fail to make sure everything he does is exactly to you liking. 

I had a writer’s block for these, so it took a while to do, but here they are!



  • William is very focused on his work and most of his time goes into reaping souls. Even so, he tries his best to be there for his child. He’d take his paperwork home anytime he could just so his child could get the attention they need. He always tries to make it back home in time to wish his child goodnight as well.
  • William is usually so stoic all the time, but he wouldn’t be so contained around his child. His child would be one of the very few people that would get to see him act how he truly feels.
  • He’s very careful about his glasses around his child. It’s not that he feels that the child is going to break or lose them (or at least not entirely that), but rather he knows if he doesn’t have his glasses, he can barely see. It would raise the risk of them doing something to injure themselves and him being unable to prevent it.
  • Really, he’d be a very good father. He’d be supportive and encouraging, but would still have rules and restrictions just to keep his child out of trouble and to raise them the best he can.


  • Everyday would be “Take Your Child To Work Day” with Undertaker. It would be like having a little assistant around the shop. Really, though, he wouldn’t give his child any hard tasks. Most of the time, he just has them sit on the side and provide company for him.
  • Knowing how children are so random and goofy, he’d go to his child if he ever needed a laugh. In his opinion, children seem to have the best sense of humor, so his they would never fail to bring him to tears from laughing so hard.
  • He’d let his child do his hair whenever they’d want to, keeping it how it is no matter how bad it looks. He really wouldn’t care, though he’d prefer that his remain hidden under his bangs.
  • Dad jokes. Dad jokes everywhere.

Gemini x Aquarius

Like a rainbow road, stretching infinitely through the constantly varying colors of the twilight sky, the two air signs fixed Aquarius and mutable Gemini point their lives toward the discovery of wonders, while being wonders themselves: both curious, restless, cerebral, energetic, weird fun lovers, they speak to each other the same language. Theirs is a virtuous cooperation, because they have the faculties to silence their flaws and enhance their gifts: the humanitarian spirit of Aquarius trims the aggressive carelessness of Gemini, while Gemini’s unsatisfaction in static situations banishes Aquarius’ stagnancy issues.

As friends, someone strange and quirky as Aquarius could never fail to join, or be joined by the company of a Gemini: this mutable sign wants fun to be endless, and that’s why they never quite stick that long with anyone and anything, but Aquarius’ mind is an unbound territory of uncovered mysteries, novelties and fantasies.  If they were to start chatting, they’d end up tackling a countless list of subjects, from the random mundane to the most complicated, and they’d never get bored. Aquarius likes to consider things from all the strangest points of view, so if a Gemini were to run his mouth in any potentially inadequate way, Aquarius reactions might variate from sound laughter to simply continuing the conversation as everything was regular. When they cooperate at work, if Aquarius isn’t too much on the fiery or airy side about his natal chart, he might just be able to focus deep enough to make the extraordinary faculties of his companion Gemini stick to their duties, and they’d produce astonishing results together. They give the rest of the world their absolute best at parties, where their sense of humor never fails to be smashing; however even if they’d find themselves to be just the couple alone, they still wouldn’t miss a bit of entertainment, they would cause the same amount of noise and disasters, and they could keep themselves busy for as long time.

As lovers, they might have infidelity tendencies. If they have a good opinion about open relationships, that would be absolutely ok, but if not, and Aquarius is the most likely to be on the no-side between the two, that could be a big issue against a serious commitment, if they were to wish for it. That is, however, also the only serious problem that could come up between them. They are in fact bound to make for a very playful couple, and even if they’d find themselves to argue about a lot of things, which is a common trait for all air signs, they would very hardly come to fight each other seriously. They offer each other endless possibilities, and they share the need to be given their personal space, some alone time every once in a while. They’d need some very clashing planet positioning to fail to understand each other’s behavior and needs.

As enemies, any of Gemini’s offenses pass straight through Aquarius without hitting anything: one can’t make him feel inadequate or ashamed of something, because Aquarius’ personality is based on pride for being different – his answer for being called on whatever thing would always be some variation of: “Yeah, so what’s wrong with that?” occasional laughter included if they’re equipped with an extroverted natal chart. All rebels seek for contrast. This could be actually an amusing rivalry for Geminis, that are never quite desiring specifically to hurt; they usually just want to have fun and openly discuss, even when they end up inflicting great damage to others.  For these two signs, so much inconvenienced by conventionalities, enmity could paradoxically be the start for a very good friendship.

Sun in GeminiSun in Aquarius

And to follow up with that Undertale Reblog-

This post right here

Basically me just adding a lot more two cents into the post above in regards to Toriel.

One thing the OP of the post didn’t mention was how much sheer contempt and disregard Toriel showed towards the player when they dared defied her wishes as well.
Like the moment you were adamant that you weren’t going to stay with her she decided that perhaps beating you until you ranaway to your room for a recharge in the hopes that you’ll ‘come to your senses’ and acknowledged that Toriel knows best.

Keep reading

Watch on

Verse 1-
I’ve still got passion
And I’ve still got guts
But I no longer give a fuck
About what you want
So you’re a savior
And a saint?
Then let’s stop pretending and pull out the war paint
But you refuse to open old wounds
In fear that you’ll actually have to feel

We tried so hard
We tried to just pretend
Things didn’t change as the honeymoon said
This house, this ring, the secrets shared in bed
Lose all our faith in the foundation
And I feel the pain

Verse 2-
The fucking more I see what you’ve become
The more I lose sight of the love
That I once had in your brown eyes
I used to be afraid that this would end
Now I embrace it
We are ships passing the night

We tried so hard
We tried to just pretend
Things didn’t change as the honeymoon said
This house, this ring, the secrets shared in bed
Lose all our faith in the foundation
And I feel the pain

I see bright lights flicker ahead
I see stars shining till’ their death
I see you

And I don’t know what to do

Beautiful sunset, passionate kiss
These things mean nothing when you cannot come to terms with
The person who you are and who you’re meant to be
Are separated by a sea of insecurities
I’ve been digging out from underneath
An avalanche and it’s taken 20 years to see
Our reality is our own to create, and the sooner that you realize that
The sooner that you can change

Our history will
Just hit repeat
And you will pass your poison down unto your child’s feet
And they will struggle
Struggle to breathe
Cowering in shadows that you cast and cannot see
Beautiful sunset, passionate kiss
These things mean nothing when you cannot come to terms with
The person who you are and who you’re meant to be
Are separated by a sea of insecurities
I’ve been digging out from underneath
An avalanche and it’s taken 20 years to see
Our reality is our own to create, and the sooner that you realize that
The sooner that you can change

I won’t repeat
I won’t repeat
I won’t repeat the things that I can’t change
I won’t repeat
I won’t repeat
I won’t repeat the things that I can’t change