A lot of this was going to be a reply to a post that was deleted but I think it is still worth saying.

There’s a “twitter rant” photoset that gets passed around every so often that equates “q*eer” and the general terms “gay” and “lesbian” as “reclaimed slurs”- this is historical revisionism.

The origin of the word “gay” (as literally everyone knows at this point) is a slang term that meant “happy”. Probably less known is the path it took to being applied to people who experience same-sex attraction. The definition began to mean individuals who were, beyond merely happy, “happy-go-lucky and carefree”, “straight” also appeared around this time as its opposite for someone more serious (i.e. The “straight man” in comedy routines), eventually the definition drifted towards hedonism and it was around this point that it began to be used a euphamism for gay people (lesbian wasn’t a distinct term yet) and gay people began to use it as well.

Now, at the same time, “q*eer” was drifting from its original meaning of “strange” towards its modern meaning but one of the earliest uses on record was by the Marquess of Queensberry- the same man responsible for Oscar Wilde’s conviction of “gross indecency” and sentence of two years hard labor which eventually killed him. That is the kind of circle that used words like “q*eer”.

Early activists groups specifically promoted the use of “gay” over “q*eer” since the latter was felt to be pejorative. Gay might not have been a good thing to be if you asked a straight person’s opinion on it but it was never a slur (and those straight people were more likely to call you a q*eer anyhow).

Q*eer began to be reclaimed in 80s (and earlier tbh) in the way slurs often are reclaimed- by refusal to be ashamed and using the word to push back (”not gay as in happy, but q*eer as in fuck you!”). And I understand some people now having an affection for it since it carried them through an incredibly difficult era in LGBT history.

But the broadening of the term removes that same power from those who may still need it, after all, saying “I’m here, I’m q*eer, get used to it!” doesn’t have quite the same bite in a world where Hipster Joe is also “q*eer” because he likes girls with short hair and getting kinky in the bedroom…. but only one of you might get murdered or have your legal rights stripped for your “q*eerness”.

Personally I feel that if you are not targeted by a slur you shouldn’t use it. But as folks are quite happy to point out: it doesn’t matter how I feel about seeing slurs everywhere- I can’t stop it. That has always been true no matter who was using the word or why.

But I also don’t have to like it. And I will point out exactly what you all are doing when you try to re-write history to suite your purpose of telling me “to get over it” because you want to apply slurs to any random social class or behavior.


Gay is not and never was a “slur”.

Q*eer was- and still is- but the power of reclaimation is lost by applying to it random things like friendship. However, as is so “kindly” pointed out each time this comes up- there’s nothing I can do about it.

Imagine an immortal monster trying not to grow attached to anyone. When eventually they fall for a human, they do everything they can to try and stop it. They distance themselves, grow angry and stubborn, isolate themselves and direct their spite at the human when she refuses to give up. It doesn’t work; the monster only falls more and more in love until they can resist it no longer. All the fight goes out of them and they reach for the girl that changed everything, holding her close and hoping that this will never end.

But it does end, as the monster knew it would. They have lived for thousands of years, but their human only lives for eighty-five of them. Those years were the best that the monster has ever known, all of them filled with the warm presence of their human, but now there is only cold emptiness where she used to be.

Time passes. Trees grow from tiny saplings to towering oaks. The world moves on, but the monster doesn’t. They roam the earth with a hollowness inside of them, the world looking grey and drab in comparison to those few years of happiness.

Until one day someone approaches them.

“Leave me alone,” growls the monster “or I’ll rip you apart.”

“Well, that would be a shame - especially when I’ve gone through so much trouble to find you.”

The monster knows that voice. They turn around slowly, hardly able to believe it, but there she is. Looking just how the monster remembers her.

You.” Their normally flat voice is filled with emotion.

To lose her had been more painful than anything else the monster had ever known, but if they had to do it all over again -

“Come here,” she says, holding her arms out.

And the monster doesn’t hesitate.

Four Puffs 1/2

Steve Harrington/Henderson!Reader
Word Count:

Request: @mikeygc3000​  said: Could you write one where you’re Dustin’s older sister and all the kids can tell that you and Steve are in love but are in denial so they set up a blind date by tricking you and Steve and you both end up together in the end???? And lots of fluff!???? (P.s I just found your blog and I’m in love with it)”

A/N: sorry to break this up into two parts, but it was getting monstrously long, and I need to edit the second half, lol. Also, fun fact, someone is credited as playing Mr. Henderson, so I headcanon’d a bit. (and as always, requests are OPEN)

Keep reading

At my store we throw away damages, expired stuff, etc. sometimes. There’s a local kid who dumpster dives at all the stores around here and he donates what he finds to area food pantries. I absolutely detest our practice, so I would tell him when there was a lot of good stuff out there for him to get. Well, our manager caught him in there and is now completely destroying everything and pouring chemicals in there as a further deterrent. It makes me sick that all this product is going to a landfill instead of being given to someone who needs it. (Humans, you absolutely SUCK). 

anonymous asked:

can you please do a BTS reaction to after a one night stand you start getting dressed, they're afraid you're leaving, but you say "I'm gonna get a slushie, 'cuz I'm hot and thirsty, want one? Or food? Anything? I wanna treat you right." (My friend did this and the girl she was with cried bc she was so sweet)

sorry for having you wait this long (but i’m sure you must have forgotten about this already so). this is so cute!! thanks for dropping this in my asks!


You let out a small sigh of relief as you finally succeeded in safely navigating the huge apartment and spot your shoes (and the door, because you remember nearly nothing of last night) lying by the front door. you bite your lip as you tiptoe towards them and push a foot into one shoe, wondering whether you were using your thirst as an excuse to sneak away before your absolutely gorgeous one night stand wakes up and has to face the horror that was your morning face (or any face for that matter).

But no. You dismiss the thought with a shake of your head as you slip on the other shoe.You were a responsible person, therefore you would take responsibility for last night’s actions  (as much as you can’t seem to remember them), however awkward they may be.

Of course, it helps that the man you slept with looks like he should be on the cover of every fashion magazine ever published.

Deep in your thoughts, you do not notice the very same man when he pads towards you, half asleep but still concerned.

“Are you trying to sneak away?”

You swore as you jumped, your heart threatening to burst out your chest as his sudden appearance nearly takes the piss out of you. And of course, being you, it was only mandatory that your leap of fear would result in you tripping over your own shows and falling on your own face while your hot one night stand watches in horror.

The man jogs over and crouches, wincing at your whimpers of pain. “Are you alright? I must have scared you. Do you…–”

The rest of his words fade away as you take notice –really take notice– of his face. Memories of kind, understanding eyes and laughter from those lips float up through the haze that your memory has become.

He’s even more beautiful up close, and his gentle hands at your ankle only helped with that newly founded observation of yours.

“–…You seem a bit dazed. I didn’t see it, but did you hit your head? Oh no, do you need a doctor?” He sits back on his heels, worried. “Maybe I should call for an ambulance–”

“No!” You mentally smack yourself in the face in embarrassment. “I just need to…” Trying to remember what you needed through the enraptured haze of having him this close, your desperate gaze falls on your shoes.

The man’s eyes follow yours, and the corners of his mouth droop. “Oh. I’m guessing you don’t want to stay for too long.” He sighs, and moves backwards with the intention of straightening up. “Let me at least call you a cab. ”

“No.” You reach out and grab a wrist, shaking your head. “No, I wasn’t trying to sneak away…Jin.” Your heart thuds as you recollect his name suddenly. “I had a hangover and figured you’d have one too, so I thought I’d–” You squint at Jin’s face. “Are you laughing at me?”

Jin’s slight smile turns into a look of horror. “No! I was just glad. Glad you’re not leaving, I mean. And also because… ” He pursed his lips against another smile and looked down at his hands. “It’s the first time someone’s wanted to do something nice for me and not the other way around.”

He looks up and smiles even brighter when he sees you blushing. “The coffee downstairs is horrible and way too expensive. Maybe I can make you some?”


You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding and trying to your best to be quiet, slowly unzip the hoodie that you’d found somewhere on the floor and decided to pull on. The slight scent of the coffee you’d bought from the convenience store downstairs wafted through the air, tempting your nose.

You didn’t know (or remember) much about the man you apparently had an (amazing) one-night stand with,  but of one thing you were sure: boy, was he a deep sleeper.

  You were sure he’d wake up the moment you started a racket (hey, you just weren’t a very coordinated person, okay?) trying to figure a way out of the comfy (and bachelor-seeming, thank god) apartment.

You shrug the hoodie off one shoulder and was about to take it off completely, when a surprisingly deep voice you only remembered in snatches from last night interrupts you.

The man props himself up on one elbow. “Are you leaving?”

You turn and face the good looking (very good looking, now that you see him better) man, ready to explain, but he sighs before you get a chance. “I guess you were.” He flopped onto his back again. “And after all that, here I was, thinking we had a connection. Turns out all I have is a hangover.”

You bite a smile back at his dry sarcasm, recalling that it was this very quality of his that had attracted you to him in the very first place. You take the rest of the hoodie off and let it drop to the floor before plopping onto the bed next to him. You grin as he raises an eyebrow.

“Figured as much. That’s why I went downstairs to get us coffee. Believe me, the way you were passed out, I could have left five times and you wouldn’t have noticed.

He stares at you. Then he looks away again, gracing the ceiling with a reluctant but still beautiful gummy smile. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” You grin too and cross your ankles, turning your head to stare at the ceiling in something similar to subdued contentment. “Guess we do have a connection after all.”


It’s not every day you wake up to a man as beautiful as Jung Hoseok, so the moment you open your eyes and take in the simply ethereal being in front of you, you thank whichever god or fate that had made you choose the very bar you met him in last night.
It was just the way the lazy morning light straining through the curtains played across the angles of this man’s face, or the way the hair that (very artistically) fell across his forehead exuded a slight mischievousness that took your very breath away.

From you place on the (ramshackle) bed, you avert your eyes and try to calm yourself down. You wish you could find something to drink, partly to cool the heat suddenly rising to your neck and partly to distract yourself from the snatched recollections of last night.

Water. I need a nice clear glass of ice water. But where?

You bite your lip and slowly prepare to edge yourself out the bed; just when a warm hand wraps itself around your arm, quickly travelling from your wrist to your upper arm. You look down to see Hoseok slowly blinking the sleep out his eyes. “Hey. Don’t leave.” He stretched, dispelling the last of the sleep in his system, slowly focussing on you as his thumb caressed slow circles into your skin. You try to pretend that this doesn’t affect you way more than what is considered healthy for a human heart, and let your head drop back onto a pillow with a floof. Hoseok smiles contently and dropped his hand to yours, firmly intertwining your fingers. “Thanks for not leaving. I meant what I said last night, ____.”

You smile and close your eyes at the memory, something you had dismissed as a whisper in a heated moment.  “I wasn’t going to leave. I just needed a glass of water.“ Hoseok smiles even wider at that and pulls you closer, the innocent gesture a wild contrast from what had transpired last night.

"I’m glad to hear that.”

You laugh. “Okay, but I still need that glass of water. Do you need something, Hoseok?”

He shakes his head, placing a kiss on a mark he himself had left on your shoulder the previous night, then tucks his head into the crook of his neck, the slight smile on his lips shaping themselves across your skin. “Everything I need right now is lying next to me already.”


Jeez, he’s beautiful.

You bite your lip and marvel at the way the sunshine played across the small dips and divots of the muscles in his arms and back. The tan skin that stretched across them seemed to have a glow of its own, a nice golden that reminded you of how heated last night was.

You suck in a breath. Last night. How on earth did you manage to find him?

You place your hands on your hips and swallow, realizing how parched your throat was. Maybe you should find a drink, something to get you ready for the difficult conversation you would have to face once the gorgeous man in the bed woke up.

You snatch your shirt off the back of a chair and slip your arms through it, thinking off what to say when he did wake up. Your mind remains blank, staunchly protesting against its excersise in the absence of coffee.

Sigh. Maybe I’ll just have to wing–

“Uh. ____, isn’t it?”

Shit. You swivel, the neck of the shirt still around your face. “Yeah…uh, Namjoon.”

His eyebrows raise when you remember his name correctly, a smile slowly taking residence over his lips and coaxing dimples out. Crap, he’s cute.

“Yeah.” He blinked at the awkward way you half-wore your shirt. “Do you need help with that?”

Blood rose to your cheeks, embarrassment quickly replacing your admiration of his cute nose. “Uh, no.” You pulled the shirt fully over your head, still flushing, and look around for your shoes. “Now, if I could just find shorts I’d be all–”

Namjoon looks up at you in middle of poking a (toned) leg out of bed. “You’re leaving?”

You pull a shoe out from under the bed and sit back on your heels to meet his eyes, blowing a strand of hair from your eyes. “Yeah, I just–”

Namjoon leaned forward, panic in his eyes. “_____, I know I might be a bit too forward in saying this, but if I didn’t, I’d never forgive myself.” He pulled his pants on and stood up, giving up on buttoning them in his haste. He raised his firm, bony hands in a helpless gesture. “Last night… was amazing. You were amazing. It isn’t just about the sex, but we clicked in a way I can’t explain.” He ran a hand through his hair, spiking it up in frustration. He was a (beautiful) sight, all shirtless, lean frame and unbuttoned dress pants, like a rugged Greek god.

“I know people say one night stands are no strings attached, that commitment has no place in it. But, ____, I for one, don’t want this to stop here. Let’s grab some breakfast and talk this out.” He raised earnest eyes to where you kneeled next to the bed, a shoe in one hand. “Don’t leave,  _____. Please?”

You gulped, and slowly stood up. “Namjoon.” You set the shoe down. “I was leaving to get some water from the kitchen.” You watch as realization, following embarrassment, blooms on his face. “Um, do you– do you want some coffee? With me?”


“You’re very quiet outside the bedroom.” You jumped nearly a foot in the air. Clutching at your heart, you turn to face Park Jimin, standing in the doorway to his bedroom, watching you struggle to tiptoe across the apartment floor.

“Excuse me?!”

“I’m not a very deep sleeper, but you still managed to get this far without waking me up. Which is quite a surprise to me, since you were quite loud last night, _______.”

He remembers your name. Jimin remembers your name! “You weren’t so bad yourself, Jimin.”

He grins, perfect teeth catching at his lower lip. The smile transforms his face completely, turning him from a debonair one night standee to cute the-boy-next-door. “Touchè.” He ruffled his hair, and you smile at his cockiness. “We both were pretty loud last night, and a noise complaint from my neighbours is soon expected. But it doesn’t matter, since last night was great, as we told each other throught the course of it.” The smile dropped as he folded his arms, a small wrinkle forming between his eyebrows. “So why leave?”

Your grin falls from your face too when you hear his words. What? “Jimin, I’m not leaving. I mean, I’m not leaving, leaving.” You hold your wallet up. “I wanted to get some coffee for us, or something to eat from the deli I saw downstairs last night.” You bite your lip, slightly pleased (just a bit) at how upset Jimin has seemed when he thought you were leaving.

He raised hopeful eyes towards you, your heart already fluttering. “You’re not leaving?”

“Why would I?”

“You don’t have to jump from the window to make your escape. There’s a perfectly functional elevator in the building, and I’m not going to hold you hostage if you want to leave.”

You raise your eyebrows and turn away from the glass of the window, tearing your eyes away from the street below to the boy in the bed.

Still breathtaking, even as he knuckled his own head through a mass of bed hair and squinted at the light pouring in through the window. “The window’s too high anyway.” He said matter of factly.  You realize that he’s not even trying to be rude, Kim Taehyung was just the kind of man to speak his mind however he wanted to in that deep, sensual voice of his. “If you try that route, and break a few legs, I’ll need to take you to the hospital, and you’ll have to spend even more time with me.” He grinned and leaned back on his hands, lean muscles moving beneath the smooth tan skin.

You leaned against the windowsill, matching grin for grin. “Who said that would be a problem? Granted, I’d like to spend more time with you with both my legs intact, but as long as there’s more time, am I right?”

His grin grows wider. “Right.” He leans forward, and locks his hands in his lap. “So you don’t want to leave?”

You shook your head and resumed looking out the window, scanning the street below for what you wanted. “All I want right now is to buy some tteokboki from that vendor I saw hanging around last night, because I’m famished. That’s why I was looking out of the window, to see if I could spot my deliverer of glorious morning snacks.” You grin and bring your finger to the glass. “Speak of the devil.”  You smile as you feel strong arms go around your waist, a chaste kiss that was insignificant compared to last night being pressed to your neck. “Would you be interested in making a purchase with me?”

“Don’t mind if I do.”


Ohgodohgodohgodohgod. How old is he?

You winced at the thought of him being too young. His muscles said otherwise, but his peaceful sleeping face and the small pucker of his (beautifu– ______!) lips told a whole different story.

You let out a small huff of breath and began looking around for your clothes. Be rational, ______. You’re not stupid. You would have known what you were getting into last night. Right? You raise your head too fast, almost throwing out your neck in the panic of considering the possibility that you hadn’t known what you were getting into last night. But you had right?

Your mind was too scrambled, too unorganised to think properly. It was too early, anyway, and the hangover that stood at the threshold of your senses mocked you further.

Coffee. That’s it. You pull your shirt on and straighten up, determined to find the kitchen and get some coffee on. Coffee for two, yeah. Maybe you and Jungkook could talk this over and clear stuff up. Maybe the two of you could even–

“No! Not until you know for sure!”, you reprimand yourself.

“Not until I know what for sure?”

You muffled a scream and whipped around, further startling Jungkook who was already doing a pretty good imitation of a bunny caught in the headlights. “Shit! You scared me!”

“Well– you scared me.”

You place your hands on your hips and concentrate on your breathing.

“Are you alright?”

Gosh, he’s cute– _____! “Hey, would you mind telling me how old you are?”

Jungkook folded his arms, a corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk. “Ah. I’m past the legal age, if that’s what you were wondering.”

“You get asked that a lot?”

“Not much. I’m usually not the type to have one night stands.”

Your heart plummets to the bottom of your boots. “Oh. Are you- are you upset? That we did this?”

He played with the fingers of his hands. “Funnily enough, no.” He cocks his head. You observe that he’s very cute with a clear conscience for the first time. “Are you?”

You shook your head, a little breathless. “No.”

“Then why are you leaving?”

“I wasn’t–” You look down at your half dressed state, the perfect picture of a one night standee that didn’t have the guts to stay around. “I wasn’t leaving.  I just needed some coffee to wake me up, so I was dressing to go check out your kitchen.” You offered Jungkook a tenative smile. “I want to stay.”

“You’re sure?”

“Just for the coffee. And you, of course. I mean, if you–”

He grinned genuinely, and you realized he was fully beautiful, not just simply cute. “Okay. In that case, I shouldn’t give you these.” He shook a pair of jeans in his right hand. “If we’re staying in, then you’d look cuter without them, just like you do right now.”

why do I write so much?

also why do i write everything down on paper and realize at the last moment that i havent actually typed it all up?


p.s. if anyone of you are the ones requesting for english music from our boys: stop. you stan a kpop group. let them kpop.

anonymous asked:

Ok, could you do Demencia giving everyone in the manor, including their S/o, a heating rock (ya know, the girl's lizard like)? (sorry, is dumb >>)

@aglacialblaze i believe i’ve seen you around asking this in the past and i’m sorry i took so long!!!!

Black Hat - 

  • “what the fuck is this demencia”
  • “a heating rock!”
  • “wot the bloody hell do i need a rock for m8″
  • “sleeping.”
  • “you know i don’t sleep.”
  • “but black haaaaat, everyone needs a - bed rock! xD”
  • *unholy eldritch screeching*

Dr. Flug

  • “uhmmm. thanks. i guess???”
  • he doesn’t really know what to do with it, so he kind of just smiles and nods nervously at demencia until she goes away
  • he’ll probably use it as a paperweight or something

Demencia’s S/O

  • you find it hilarious that your girlfriend sleeps on a rock, and that she gave you one too
  • ((how did she even find a rock your size, and furthermore, how did she even drag it into the manor,,,…?))
  • she expected you to sleep on the rock like you would do with an actual bed, but you explained to dem that’s probably bad for your back
  • so instead, you made the heating rock a pet rock instead. a happy compromise! 


  • “aroo?”
  • sniffs and pokes it, but ultimately doesn’t know what to do with it 
  • super happy that demencia gave him a present though, she can tease the poor bear so much

anonymous asked:

So let me get this straight: We're made to feel that ALL the S&C receipts, 🍤🐡 innuendo, off-the-charts chem, bts snuggly photos, mall shopping, picnics, ball games, restaurants and major 😍 & pda means NOTHING... but Sam & the fake gf both RT about the same play (while a continent apart) & that means "OTP" & we should be worried? Seriously??! Come on. Doesn't rock my ship AT ALL. Smooth sailing here (BTW I wouldn't be surprised if S&C saw that play together while in NY - right up C's alley).

Wow I love you

Forts And Chocolate Caramels//H.S. Imagine//

Hii! I just wanted to drop in and supply you guys with some best friend Harry, enjoy!

Originally posted by harryispink

You looked down at the grocery list in your cart with your lip in between your teeth. Popcorn, you thought to yourself, where is the popcorn? You were trying your best to shop for you and Harry’s movie night, but he was being absolutely no help. He always got bored in grocery stores, something you had grown to live with. You glanced down at Harry, sitting cross legged in the shopping cart, and couldn’t help but laugh. He was touching both ends of the cart and you imagined he must be uncomfortable.

“Harry? Do you see popcorn?” You questioned him.

“No, Rosebud, I don’t,” Harry replied absent mindedly.

“Well, first you would have to look, Harry. I mean maybe if you stopped making me push you and helped me this would go a bit faster.”

“Fine, fine. Stop the cart.” Harry stood up and stumbled his way out of the cart, banging his knee in the process, “Happy now?”

“Yes.” You smiled at Harry and playfully rolled your eyes.

“Hey! We had a deal, if I let you pick the movie this time you wouldn’t make me shop!”

“Yes, then I remembered that required pushing you and plans changed! Can you reach that soda, H?” You pointed to the diet coke on the top shelf and watched Harry reach up and grab it. He placed it in the cart and looked at you expectantly.

“What next? We have, soda, paper plates, twizzlers, sour patch kids, and chips. What else do we need?”

“Well we need popcorn, that I for some reason can’t find, and caramels.”

“Ahh, right, can’t forget your caramels!”

“Shush, do you want me to get you some too?” You started to roll the cart down the aisle and look around for your favorite chocolates.

“Nope, I prefer gummy bears.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am positive.”

An hour later you and Harry had left the store and made your way back to your apartment. You unlocked your cherry red door and walked inside with your hands full of groceries. Harry closed the door behind you and grabbed two bags from your grasp. Setting them on the kitchen table, he started to look at your walls. Harry loved the walls of your apartment, they were absolutely covered in art. Most of it you had done yourself, you had just sold some to a gallery local to you and Harry was extremely excited. You had a few paintings on the wall of your bedroom inspired by Harry, some of them were based on candid photos you had taken of him. Some were him laughing, others were him cooking (or burning water) but some of your favorites were him smiling, putting his dimples on display.

“Wanna come pick out a movie, Haz?” You asked, going back and forth between standing on your tippy toes and standing flat.

“Sure,” Harry answered, his dimples popping out, “Would you be mad if I suggested The Notebook again?”

You playfully rolled your eyes, “As an artist, your lack of creativity while picking movies insults me.”

“Oh, I see, you only love me when I help you make a fort.”

“Right, I’m glad you’ve caught on.”  This time, it was Harry’s turn to roll his eyes, “Now come on, I wanna pick a movie as early as possible. You take forever to decide, and we don’t want to be here all night.” 

You grab Harry’s hand and tugged him along with you to your living room. Your apartment was small, but full of life, the color’s yellow and white made many appearances in your living space. Harry’s eyes fell on the huge book case that went from the floor to the ceiling. He remembered making it with you last spring. You had insisted you needed three bookshelves, but you absolutely couldn’t pay for them already put together. So, you and Harry had arranged the wood yourselves and painted it. One was yellow and stood in your bedroom, the other still had its original appearance and was in your living room. The last one had a place in your art room, it happened to be splatter painted. The bottom two rows were filled with movies, you had arranged them in order of your least favorite to favorite. You always said, ‘Always save the best for last, so if the worst upsets you, the best will make it all better again.’

You soon broke Harry out of his little memory, “I’m thinking Disney movies! How about Beauty and The Beast? I know how much you love the music in that one!” It was no surprise that Harry loved music, although he owned a bakery, he would always sing on his free time. You worked at a local café within walking distance from your house, so sometimes Harry would walk you home. You would paint, keeping what it was a surprise until its finished, and Harry would sing to you. If there was one thing that helped you fall asleep, or stop crying, or just break into a smile, it was Harrys voice.

“Whatever you want, petal. But, just so you know, I wouldn’t mind watching The Notebook after,” Harry cheekily mentioned.

You crouched down to grab the movies with a smile on your face, “Okay, goober, sounds like a plan. Go to the closet and grab a bunch of pillows and blankets please! We’re gonna make the best fort in the history of all forts.” Every time you and Harry had a movie night, you two would work together to make a comfy fort. And today was absolutely no exception.

Harry came back with his arms full of pillows and blankets and stumbled into the living room, placing them down on the couch.

“Perfect,” You exclaimed, “Now that’s get to work!” The next hour was filled with you and Harry strategically stacking pillows and draping blankets where they seemed to fit. With the aid of some chairs and the couch of course, you finished the fort. It looked sort of like patchwork from a bird’s eye view, but you have always loved things that didn’t make sense. You gave Harry a triumphant high five and admired your work.

“Snack time!” You said in a sing-songy voice, shaking your hips a little bit.

“Right,” Harry laughed, “I’ll pop the popcorn if you pour the soda.”

“Deal.” You gave Harry a fist bump and jumped into action, trying to avoid knocking the fort at all costs. Once you reached the kitchen, you strategically poured the soda, so it didn’t bubble over, and carried the cups to the coffee table. You went back to grab the bags of snacks you had bought earlier, and skillfully placed them into the fort. Behind you came Harry carrying a bowl of buttery popcorn. You witnessed him steal a few pieces and gently slapped his hand away from the bowl.

“I was just tasting it, love. Had to make sure it was safe for you to eat!” He mumbled in attempt to excuse himself.

“Excuses, excuses,” You whispered, shaking your head back and forth, “Can you be a spectacular best friend and put the movie in?”

“Well, considering you won’t let me get an early start on the popcorn, I guess I have nothing else to do.” You and Harry’s relationship consisted mostly of cheeky comments and sarcastic responses. Harry slid the circular movie disk into the slot and waited for it to begin working. Using the remote, he messed with the settings a bit and pressed play. The sun was setting, so Harry closed the curtains so make it as dark and possible. He crawled beside you in the fort, which was quite difficult due to his lanky arms and legs, and shuffled around to get comfortable. He obnoxiously opened a bag of chips, earning an amused look from you, and a quick ‘Sorry!’ made its way to you through the dark.

About ten minutes into the movie, your legs were draped across Harry’s and you were leaning back into a chair you had used to set things up. The light from the movie would illuminate your face every once and awhile, causing Harry’s heart to speed up a bit. He noticed you were eating those caramels you love so much, he could smell the chocolate from where he sat. His ring covered fingers appeared in front of you, shuffling into your bag of caramels.

“Harry Edward Styles! Get your hands out of my chocolate!” You shouted at your best friend.

“Just one!” He announced, feeling a sharp sting on his hand, most likely from you swatting it.

“You said you didn’t want any!”

“But, Rosebud, that was before I smelled them! Just one, I only want one!”

“Absolutely not Mr ‘I prefer gummy bears’,” You mocked in a deep British accent.

“Fine, fine. I have accepted defeat.”

Three hours later, you had finished watching both movies and were raiding your fridge looking for dinner. You turned to Harry with a depleted look on your face, “Yeah, um, I have no food, H.”

“How bout’ we call something in?” Harry suggested.

“Great Idea! I’m gonna go grab my phone, I’ll be right back!” Harry sat down in one of your kitchen chairs and let his eyes wonder around your apartment once more. He noticed your bag of caramels sitting about a foot away from him. Just sitting there, waiting to be eaten. Praying you wouldn’t notice later and cause a fuss, he slowly reached his hand in the bag, plucking one out. He popped it into his mouth a savored the combination of sweet and salty on his taste buds.

Harry felt a light tap on his shoulder, “I saw that Harold.”


  • America: Japan, do you have your notes on China’s speech? I kinda lost track somewhere in the middle of it.
  • Japan: oh, sorry America-san, I didn’t listen to his specific speech.
  • America: you what?? Dude... I never thought you, out of all the countries here, would ever say that! Now that I think about it; you hardly listen to him at times, gets annoyed when he tells you to do something, act more laid-back around him, and- wait... are you two brothers??
  • Japan: ... you can tell?

purplepotatomunv  asked:

Luctus you're absolutely precious and it makes me super sad to see you sad! Can I give you a hug, buddy?

Luctus: “D… Dad… Are you… mad…?”

Patton: “No, kiddo… I’m not mad at all. I’m here to tell you it’s ok… I know, all this time we thought we have to keep our sadness to ourselves… that we always have to be happy so we can help others… But recently I have learned that it’s good to just let go sometimes…”

Luctus: “R… really…?”

Patton: “Yes. So cry, if you want to. It’s ok to be scared. There’s no need to hide your feelings…”

Luctus: “…. Thank you, Dad….”


Endless List of Favorite Video Games
↳ Final Fantasy VI (1994)

Long ago, the War of the Magi reduced the world to a scorched wasteland, and Magic simply ceased to exist. 1000 years have passed… Iron, gunpowder and steam engines have been rediscovered, and high technology reigns. But there are those who would enslave the world by reviving the dread destructive power known as “Magic”. Can it be that those in power are on the verge of repeating a senseless and deadly mistake?


Just In Time for The (Nuclear) Winter Holidays!

This is an amazing, absolutely unique, perfectly preserved Atom-age Nuclear Survival Kit from the 1960s. Made by Family Survival Service of San Francisco. Contains enough food and water to support one person for 10 days.

“Contents Protected Against Radioactive Fallout”

It’s all here! Comes with hot breakfasts (2 servings of Ralston, 3 servings of Farina), Hot Dinners (Macaroni & Cream, Chili & Beans, Spanish Rice, Cheese & Rice Casserole, & Vegetable Stew), twelve 12-oz cans of US Aqua drinking water, 10 servings of hot chocolate, A First Aid kit, A tiny folding stove with a can of Sterno, 2 dozen paper towels, 2 plastic cups, matches, candles, a can opener, silverware, a bag, and a book called We Will: Do-it-yourself Survival In The Atom Age, which contains a lot of ranting about the commies and Russians but doesn’t exactly address what you’re supposed to do ten days after the bomb drops and the skies are on fire but you’re out of Mac & Cream.

Strikingly evocative of cold war paranoia. A must have for the apocalypse. A once-in-a-lifetime chance to own this piece of grim Americana.

$250 - Free shipping to continental U.S. Message for more info or overseas shipping.

Birthday Girl-Nolan Patrick

Alrighty this is my first Nolan Patrick imagine that was requested by @nolanpatricksgf Hope you enjoy, I literally got inspired by this idea at like one in the morning and wrote the whole thing on my notes on my phone! 

The Tyler Sequin part 2 will be up soon as well! 

Warnings: angsty, some swear words

Word Count: 1354

Originally posted by santamitchy

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