this guy was outraged

anonymous asked:

Yo could you share some of your headcanons for the deh kiddos :O ?! I'm really curious!!

*cracks knuckles* HEADCANONS UNDER THE CUT (these are generally feel-good and going off of a Connor Lived And Everything Gets Better AU set of ten [+ one extra] headcanons for the kids where they’re all friends)

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You know what breaks my heart?

David will never find out Emma was making pancakes with that box mix rather than using his recipe.

I mean look at David’s glorious pancakes.

Now look that what Emma was making

Poor guy’s gonna be outraged.

I mean it now makes sense what he said about things being different once Killian moves in.

He must have known she’d be far too distracted making the other kind of pancakes to put thought into a proper hearty breakfast. 

I’m kind of glad it was Snow that walked in rather than Charming now.

“There’s no nutmeg in there.”

“Well if you hadn’t have barged in mate, there would have been.”

“Killian!”

Poor Dave.

Cold

Jughead x reader

In which Jughead is an asshole because he doesn’t know how to deal with feelings.

*requested*


For as long as Jughead and I have known each other, he has disliked me. When we first met, I had nothing against him. In fact, I tried to be friendly, but was brushed off with his cold expression and rolling eyes. 

“And, this is Jughead!” Betty declared, finishing the introduction of her friends to me, as she showed me around the school. At this point my nerves had been settled by how friendly everyone else had been, and so I smiled widely as I surveyed the boy in front of me. He was sitting back on one of the sofas in the student common room. He looked up and it seemed for a moment as though he was going to return my smile and greet me, but I watched an inner turmoil in his eyes before his small smile dropped and his face became an impassive mask.

“Hey! I’m Y/N.” I said, standing in front of him excitedly. He simply looked me up and down critically and raised his eyebrows. 

“Okay.” And with that he went back to his sandwich. I was a little taken aback, but shook it off and sat next to him. 

“So, any advice for my first day?” I asked him, crossing my legs. He had taken a laptop out of his bag, and was typing quickly.

“No.” He muttered, not looking at me. I frowned.

“Well, there’s no need to be rude.” 

“There’s also no need to be so irritating, but you’re doing that anyway.” He said, and my mouth fell open. 

“Jughead!” Betty exclaimed. What the hell was his problem?

“I’m sorry, have I done something to offend you?” I asked, turning to him. He rolled his eyes.

“Well first of all, you have just strolled in here like we invited you, which we didn’t, and you’re already infuriating me, so I don’t suggest you stick around.” 

“Dude!” Archie shouted, frowning incredulously at Jughead. “What the hell?”
Betty too, was looking at him as if she didn’t recognise him.
Jughead just shrugged nonchalantly, looking down. I was outraged. I barely know this guy, and already he’s making judgements about me?

“What is wrong with you?” I asked him, fuming. He sighed exasperatedly, shutting his laptop and standing up.

“I’m out.” He muttered, picking up his bag and walking out of the room. I was left staring in shock at the place he had just been. Betty hurriedly came and sat next to me, looking concerned.

“Y/N I am so sorry about him, he’s never normally like that, I don’t…” She looked at Archie for an explanation of their friend’s behaviour, but he looked just as clueless.

“Well, whatever the reason, what he said wasn’t true.” Betty told me kindly. Archie shook his head quickly.

“Not at all. You should keep hanging out with us.” He said seriously. I hesitated.

“But, what about…” I gestured to the door Jughead had left through.

“Don’t worry about him. He can’t choose who we are friends with, and anyway, he’ll probably come around.”

He didn’t. 

We spent the next year taking part in dialogical fights and comeback battles. He’d make a snide remark at me, and I’d snap back in agitation. We’d both roll our eyes, he would insult me outright, and I’d pretend it didn’t affect me as I threw a sarcastic remark in his direction. 

There were times when, in the heat of the moment, he seemed to forget his hatred of me and we would laugh together. And other times I’d catch him looking at me, his face open and friendly: the Jughead I wish I knew. But then our eyes would meet and as quickly as he had opened he would close up and his face would become deadpan again. Our friends had long given up trying to make peace between us: neither of us were going to back down.

Nothing in our relationship changed for a long time. And when it did, it wasn’t in the way either of us expected.

“Morning Betty, Ronnie, Archie, Kevin.” I said, setting my things down at the table and enjoying the roll of Jughead’s eyes as I purposefully ignored him.

“Hey.” Said Ronnie. “I like your outfit.” My smile of thanks dropped when I heard a scoff from the other end of the table.

“Have something to say, Jones?” I asked him icily. The rest of the table groaned as they knew we would once again begin fighting.

“Oh, nothing, just that it’s funny watching people compliment you out of pity.”
“Sorry, Jughead, are you in my head?” Veronica sassed. “Because last time I checked you weren’t.” He shrugged casually.

“Sorry Ronnie, I just can’t take anyone seriously when they say nice things Y/N.” I rose from my seat, infuriated and ready to fight him. Kevin quickly stood up with his food.

“I’m leaving. This is about to get nasty.”

“Me too.” Said Betty, joining him. 

“Yeah, sorry guys.” Archie and Veronica agreed, standing up and leaving the table. We were left alone.

“Would you look at that.” Jughead observed with faux amazement. “You drove away all our friends. What a surprise!” 

“Actually, I think that was you.” I muttered angrily, looking down at him. He smirked up at me.

“Now, why would it be me, when you’re the one who forced them to be your friends in the first place.” He asked, and I narrowed my eyes at him.

“What did you just say?” He stood up, his sarcastic façade dropping as he glared at me.

“I can’t believe you still don’t get this. When you came to this school, Betty showed you around, and you wormed your way into our friendship group, and now I can’t get rid of you. You aren’t wanted here! The rest of them only hang out with you because they’re too nice to tell you they don’t want to be friends with you. But I’m not, so on behalf of them Y/N, you should just stay away from us.” 

There was a long silence as I took in his words. I had always been insecure about whether I was wanted in this friendship group, and Jughead had just voiced my silent fears. We normally threw petty insults at each other and left it at that, but this was different. His words were ringing in my head as we stood across from each other and held eye contact. If I didn’t know better, I would say he looked guilty for what he had just said. His mouth was open in a way that looked like he wanted to say something, but didn’t know what. I shook myself out of my thoughts, looking down. He waited for me to make a snappy, witty comeback, but I didn’t have one. Not this time. 

“Bye, Jughead.” I said quietly, picking up my bag and watching his face drop as I walked away.

I spent the next week alone. I knew I couldn’t really trust what Jughead said; he made stuff up all the time just to mess with me, but there was a lingering doubt in my mind that what he said was true, and I couldn’t get rid of it. So, I stayed away from Betty and Veronica and Archie and anyone I had previously called my friends. I knew they were confused. I didn’t miss Betty’s hurt face when I would deliberately turn away from her in the corridor, and I couldn’t ignore Veronica when she slammed my locker shut and asked me fiercely what was wrong. I remember mumbling some excuse about having too much work and hurrying away. 

They don’t want you around, I had to keep reminding myself when I turned away from Archie’s smile in my direction, or brushed off Betty’s desperate hand on my arm. She caught up with me after class and blocked the doorway.

“Y/N, what is going on? Is it something to do with Jughead?” She asked me anxiously. 

“I’m sorry Bets, I can’t.” I told her quietly, and walked past her, pushing down tears. It had been a week since I had had a proper conversation with any of them, and it was starting to get to me. I pushed my way into an empty classroom to eat my lunch. I was halfway through my food when the door was pushed open and I almost choked to death as Jughead barged his way in and strode towards me. I coughed, putting down my food and standing up.

“What are you doing in here?” I asked aggressively.

“Looking for you.” He said out of breath, looking quite flustered. “Look, will you just come and eat with us? Everyone’s miserable without you.” I scoffed.

“Well, whose fault is that?” I glared at him. He sighed, frowning. There was a silence as I waited for him to say something.

“Look, this is hard for me, but…” He struggled, looking anywhere but me. “I’m sorry, okay?” He looked up at me nervously. What kind of half-assed apology was that? I laughed dryly, and his frown returned.

“What? I just apologised to you, and you’re laughing?” He asked angrily, and I raised my eyebrows at him.

“Oh, that was an apology? Yeah, good one Jughead, why don’t you try again and I’ll see if I can hear it over your ego this time.” He threw his hands in the air.

“You are unbelievable.”

I’m unbelievable?” I asked incredulously.

“I don’t even know what you’re upset about.”

“You don’t know?”

“You’re overreacting.”

“Seriously?”

“Stop being so dramatic!”

“Stop being such an ass!”

“You first!”

“What is wrong with you?”

“You’re what’s wrong with me!” He screamed. We both stopped. We were standing about an inch away from each other, both breathing heavily. His eyes were wild and angry as they stared down at me.
The silence and the tension were unbearable, and just as I was about to say something else I was cut off because suddenly his lips were on mine. His hands were on my cheeks and mine were in his hair and we were desperate and angry as he pushed me back against the desk and I pushed the beanie from his head. The kiss was fierce and eager and when we separated I was breathless. He leaned his head forward so his forehead was touching mine and I closed my eyes as his hands moved to my waist. We rested for a moment, and my head was reeling as I caught my breath.

“It’s not true.” He started quietly, and I opened my eyes to see his staring into mine. “None of what I said is true.” I nodded, believing him.

“Okay.”

“We want you with us. I want you with me.” I pulled my head away from him to better see his face.

“Then why…” I trailed off but he knew what I meant. He shook his head quickly, his eyes clenched shut in self-disgust.

“I don’t know… I don’t know, Y/N. There was something about you. I guess… I knew I liked you from the beginning, but I didn’t know how to… God, I’m such an idiot.” He looked down, removing his hands from me and drawing them away, but I caught them in my own and pulled his lips back onto mine. This time the kiss was sweet, gentle and unsure. His lips were soft and tentative, as if he was afraid he would hurt me. It was a massive contrast from the passionate, angry Jughead who had kissed like he needed me to live.

“I don’t care. It’s okay.” I told him as I pulled away and he put his hands on my cheeks again. He spoke in a whisper,

“I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

“You’re going to make up an entire year of insults? Yeah, good luck.” I taunted, and he grinned.

“Well to be fair, you insulted me back pretty harshly. In fact, some of what you said really hurt my feelings.” I laughed.

“Did it? Well then I guess we both have some making up to do.” 

As I pulled him in again, I didn’t know what would happen in the future. I knew we couldn’t just suddenly go from hating each other to whatever this was; I couldn’t ignore what had happened. I didn’t even know what I felt for Jughead. All I knew was how good his lips felt against mine, and that I felt something, and that I wasn’t going to let it go.


I’m sorry this is so long (and bad) 

hs au (part six)

(part one)(part two)(part three)(part four)(part five)(read on ao3)

That weekend, Andrew realizes that he might actually be able to attend college.

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So...

I don’t post much on Tumblr. I prefer to just lurk about, look at fanart, read fics, and stay tf away from all the toxicity and drama surrounding fandom.

But for right now - fuck all that noise. I’m entering the war zone.

I’ve been peeping on the SW fandom for about the last year and a half now, and something has come to my attention - some people… predominantly, it seems, anti-reylo shippers - are so incredibly vile, ruthlessly harsh, and just generally terrible to other people who are just trying to enjoy their reading of the film in peace.

And I mean, it’s not even like y’all (antis) have the correct reading of the film? You guys have CATEGORICALLY MISINTERPRETED everything you use as bait for why the Reylo ship is “wrong” “immoral” or “disgusting.” I’ve seen so many antis claiming that Kylo Ren won’t be getting a redemption arc and is a ruthless murderer with no regrets, yet the subtext of TFA, the SCRIPT ITSELF, dialogue in the novel, and specific comments from fucking JJ Abrams and Adam Driver himself refute that. You can’t argue that it’s incest, because at this point everyone associated with the series has essentially come out and said she isn’t a Skywalker or a Solo. To claim that Rey was “raped” by him and imply that it’s an abusive relationship is to -

1). Strip Rey of all her agency and overlook the fact that she has been established as a strong character who can defend herself (because, idk if you recall, but every time she encounters Kylo Ren…she defeats him). They have consistently been established as equals both in battle and in their abilities in the force, and to suggest she can’t hold her own against him is just blatantly ignoring the text. (And, going off the anti argument, when she enters his mind, that means she also “rapes” him, but I guess we can all overlook that because Daisy Ridley is a pretty, defenseless little woman and Adam Driver is a big, scary, superior man, right?).

2). To only have the capacity to understand text and character development as it’s presented to you in its most basic form. Y’all know this is a trilogy, right? See, what typically happens is that - over the course of a series of films - the characters change and drastically develop beyond what was presented to the audience in the first movie. This is what we call character development.

Do you guys seriously believe that every single Reylo shipper thinks they’re going to jump each other’s bones based on the mutual disdain for each other that was presented in TFA? FUCK NO! The Reylo speculation is centered around the potential we see for future development between the two, romantic or otherwise. It’s based on canon evidence in the novel and script. It’s based on comments from JJ Abrams, Lucasfilm and co. who suggest - nay, outright STATE - that the destinies of these two characters are specifically tied up in their relationship to one another. And now we have a poster, a trailer, and a whole host of spoilers to indicate that Reylo shippers are headed in the right direction in terms of character development and plot speculation. Don’t believe me? There are pages and pages worth of meta and Reylo-centered analysis circa 2015 - 2016 that has, as of recent news and revelations, pretty much hit the nail on the head. While y’all are still just hoping she’s a Skywalker.

The last thing I’m going to bring up is the the utter VENOM that is spat at people minding their own business, enjoying the SW series, and creating their art, totally unprompted, from antis. To call someone a pedophile based on a ship with a ten year age gap (the same age gap between Han and Leia, I might add, but you guys seem totes cool with that) is outrageous, offensive, and trivializes pedophilia. To call someone a racist because of their ship is, again, utterly outrageous, baseless, and wholly dismissive of POC shippers (like myself). Unless you see someone consistently posting pictures of swastikas and spewing hateful, anti-minority rhetoric, you - just another random, bitter asshole on Tumblr - have no right to call someone a Nazi, again trivializing the experiences of those who have had to deal with *actual* racism, stereotyping and social injustice. And if you think we’re sexist? I invite you to revisit Point 1.

Sorry for the long-ass rant. But people should just ship and let ship. There’s no need for the bullying, policing, name-calling, or even taking any of this shit so SERIOUSLY to the point where you would go out of your way to hurt others. Because at the end of the day, we’re all just watching a series of children’s films about space wizards with light-up swords. CHILL.

Sick Teacher Lance (Klance Sickfic)

Prompt: inspired by a post by @toosicktoocare (I hope you’ll forgive me for using it!)

And I also threw in my OCs Jasper, Joan & Eric (my new OC sideblog is @signsickocs )!

“Lance.” Lance whined and buried his face further into the warm chest, a small amount of drool escaping his open mouth.

“Lance.” Hands patted his bare upper arm and he unconsciously swatted at the limbs that were impeding on his sleep. The body chuckled and flicked his forehead lightly. “Time to get up, come on. I’m pretty sure Jasper will cry if you don’t show up.”

Lance opened his eyes blearily, taking in the broad, bare chest of his boyfriend and winced as the light from the window hit his sensitive eyes. “Keith, why the hell did you open the blinds?” He whacked his chest, face scrunching up in faux pain, although his head really did hurt a little.

“You wouldn’t wake up. I figured if you opened your eyes you would be blinded and then stay awake.” Keith ruffled his hair softly, fingers taking out the minor knots with gentle tact.

Lance moaned slightly at his ministrations and sat up, head spinning at the sudden movement. “That’s it. I want a divorce.”

The dark hair of Keith met him, a smile flashing on his face. “You can’t. I know too much. Like the fact that you fact that you drool when you sleep.” Lance whacked him upside the heat not unkindly, hand coming up to wipe the drool around his mouth self-consciously. “And the fact that you have a hair kink. I’m sure our students would love to know that.”

Grabbing a pillow, Lance hit Keith and turned is face away so that Keith wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing him turn crimson. “I do not and you better not.”

“I’m sure they’d also love to know how much I love you, how I love holding your hand and kissing you.” Keith former jesting tone had taken a serious turn, and he planted a small kiss on Lance’s forehead, grabbing his hand and placing another chaste on it. He looked down at him, eyes like a mirror to his emotions. “I mean that, Lance.”

Lance nodded and kissed Keith’s lips, a small smirk forming on his face. “Well, I could reveal that their ‘utterly terrifying’ math teacher is actually a cheese ball and whines about the amount of homework he has to correct.”

At that Keith turned an unnatural shade of red. “You better not. Those brats are too annoying for their own good.” He groaned. “They keep asking if I’m single.”

“Popular with the girls, eh?” Lance nudged him, winking outrageously.

“Guys. Girls and guys.”

Lance’s utterly unacceptable eyebrow wiggling earned him a place on the hard, wood floor.

Later on that morning saw Lance and Keith exiting the teachers’ lounge room, books under their arms. They walked a little apart, although Keith was having a hard time not holding Lance’s lonely hand. Teachers dating was not frowned upon, but they were expected to carry themselves properly and act like responsible adults.

Keith was a little annoyed about that. Kissing wasn’t exactly the same as doing the do in the janitor’s closet, was it? Either way, he was a little grateful about that at the same time, for his students would not stop teasing him if they ever found out he was dating the ‘hot’ history teacher.

Just as they were about to part ways, Lance looked at the empty corridor and placed a loving kiss on Keith’s cheek, trying not to totter as he did so. His head was hurting a little. He murmured a soft “I love you” and ran a hand through Keith’s hair with a soft smile. “I’ll see you at break.”

“Love you too, babe.”

“Yeah, don’t divorce me, babe, I know all your worst secrets.” He formed a smile on his face, trying his best not to grimace at the headache he had.

Keith chuckled and with the arrival of a set of students, they parted ways. Lance dropped the act, and sighed a wearied sigh. He ran a hand over his face and shook his head, hoping the drum beat in his head would lessen. He shoulders slumped a little as he entered his classroom.

No one was there as the bell had not rung yet, save one person. The familiar form of a freshman that Lance enjoyed teaching for the fact that he tried and quietly listened to him, unlike many rowdy fourteen year olds, greeted his eyes.

He righted himself and smiled as he neared his desk, where the boy stood. “Jasper. I don’t think I have you for class until second period?”

The boy was like an open book and stuttered a little, pink dotting his cheeks. “I know. I j-just wanted to hand in my essay. Sir.” He placed a sheaf of paper before him on the desk, held together by a bright green staple.

“It’s not due until next Friday, though.” Lance was trying hard not to sound accusatory, but the bright light overhead and the constant heartbeat in his head was making him feel tired. He rubbed at his temple with his fingers. “And I told you, it’s Lance. Sir makes me feel old.”

“All right… Lance.” He rubbed his caramel-coloured locks at the base of his neck nervously. “I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”

“Did I look like I was doing anything, Jasper?” He smiled genially toward the boy, though his eyes hurt when he moved them. They ached in fact. “I’ll correct it as soon as I can.” He rubbed at his eyes delicately, unaware that Jasper was looking a little worried.

“Are you feeling all right, Si-Lance?”

“Peachy. Just have something in my eyes. Now, get off to class before Miss Holt has the chance to find a reason to suspend you.”

Like a scared rabbit, Jasper’s baby blue eyes widened and he scurried off to Biology, because Lord knows, she was terrifying. He yelled a prepubescent “thank you” as he left, which made Lance crack up and immediately regret it when it jolted his now aching limbs.

Great. He was probably coming down with something. He hated getting sick and he always seemed to catch the worst ones too. He hoped that he would at least be able to make it through the day. Also not let Keith know. Keith was a nagger and would not cease until Lance was lying in bed. It wasn’t even that bad. Probably just a mild fever.

Throughout first period, Lance could feel himself feeling decreasingly worse. His limbs ached and he felt so tired. He sat in his chair as much as he could, even though he usually loved standing up and speaking loudly about historical figures. Even his juniors seemed a little confused.

Once, when a student had put up their hand, he had snapped at them, snapped at them even though they had done nothing wrong. He had apologised and gave the excuse that he had missed his coffee this morning which prompted a number of sympathising students.

At break, he felt so tempted to go all ‘Mean Girls’ and eat in a bathroom stall alone, just to avoid Keith’s observant gaze. Then he realised that he really had nothing to hide and laughed at his foolishness. It was just a little fever.

He sat down by Keith, thighs touching and smiled through the pain of moving. “How was class?” Opening his lunch box, he messed with his food but didn’t have the will to eat.

Keith groaned dramatically. “Please don’t tell me I was annoying and loud in sophomore year.”

Lance looked away and earned a thwack on his forearm. “I couldn’t say.” He answered mysteriously, suddenly feeling very cold as he tugged his shirt tighter around him.

“Hey!”

Lance could do this, Lance could do this.

Walking into his classroom again, he looked at all the eager and not-so-eager expressions of his freshman students. Jasper was sitting by the window, talking quietly to a boy with dark hair — he could barely remember any faces through the fog.

Lance couldn’t do this. He couldn’t.

Everything felt like it was going in slow motion. His limbs felt like they were weighed down with lead and his joints ached, ached bone deep and he felt so tired. Moving hurt. It hurt to move. Even moving his eyes around was proving to be painful and has came to the conclusion that he was sicker than he originally thought.

At one moment he felt warm and another moment he felt cold. He wasn’t sure if he was sweating, though it certainly felt like it. His head had started up a new beat and moving too fast made him feel dizzy, lost, off balance.

After calling the roll, he glared daggers at a girl who was whispering to the person behind her. He crossed his arms and waited patiently for her to finish. He opened his mouth to speak. “Joan, are you finished?” She flushed and nodded jerkily.

He turned to the board only to see his vision go blurry and he stumbled, a hand gripping his desk tightly as he tried not to keel over. There was a rushing sound in his ears and he could hear the scrape of a chair on floor. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, hoping that the fog would clear, but it didn’t.

A hand rested on his shoulder hesitantly and he could hear Jasper speaking, but could not understand his words. Everything was muddled and it may as well have been a foreign language. Everything was loud and it was too warm and it felt like he was being heated up in an oven. A hand was patting his cheek and everything was too close and too warm and-

Tripping over his feet, he made a mad dash to the door of his classroom, and it took him a few tries, but he managed to open it. He headed towards the bathroom, head spinning and vision swirling, leaving behind a very confused (though mostly concerned) class behind.

Jasper looked around at the other students and he spoke up nervously, his voice breaking through the stunned silence. “S-Should I get the nurse?”

Joan looked at him in mild amusement. “We should get Mr. Kogane.”

Jasper looked a little confused, and tilted his head to the side, almost akin to that of a lost duck. “Why?”

The class snickered and Jasper’s cheeks heated up, though Joan remained patient. “Because he’s dating our history teacher.” She took in his expression. “I thought it was obvious.”

Jasper still looked confused, but set his gaze determinedly ahead of him. “I’ll go get him then.” He took confidant strides until he was out the door and then sagged against it, heart beating quickly.

Sir-Lance just had to date the most terrifying teacher in the school didn’t he? He made up a cheer for himself and walked hurriedly to Mr. Kogane’s room, worried about his teacher and worried that a teacher would find him out of class without a pass.

Keith was having a wonderful day, simply splendid, in fact. If that counted as having nothing but rowdy classes and a number of immature and nosy students who just didn’t get the memo to shut the hell up, then yeah. It was a terrific day.

Lance had been pretty quiet during break and that worried him. He was usually so loud and boisterous. His brow furrowed subconsciously. Maybe he knew that Keith would appreciate peace and minimal noise. The thought made him smile. Lance could be really cute and caring sometimes.

His thoughts were interrupted by a student in the front row. “Whatcha thinkin’ about, sir?”

Keith scowled a particularly nasty scowl and tried to calm down his flaring temper. “Nothing that is any of your business, Eric.”

The class oohed and Keith tried to remind himself that he was a teacher. If he had been a kid he would have thrown him a punch, but he was the adult here. It seemed that the class weren’t done tormenting him, for another question came soon after.

One girl in the back piped up. “Are you thinking about your boyfriend, sir?”

Keith looked blankly at her, features giving nothing away. He crossed his arms. “I don’t have a boyfriend or a girlfriend.”

She raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Whatever you say.” Her tongue piercing glinted in the sun and Keith shuddered. Kids these days

Just then, there were a few hurried knocks at the door and even though he said “come in” the raps continued. Huffing, he stood up and walked over to open the door. Lord knows what Shiro wanted of him now. Sure he was the principal of this highschool, but he ran it like a military academy sometimes.

Instead, he opened the door to find a quivering and small freshman student he recognised as Jasper waiting on the other side. He looked frightened and Keith tried to look somewhat less stern. His hand had been interrupted mid-knock and he hastily put it down, cheeks flushing.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in class?” Keith frowned again. Lance taught him at this time.

Then Jasper blurted out, “Sir, Mr. Kogane, I was told to get you because Si-I mean Lance ran out of our classroom all dizzy and stuff and I think he’s sick!” He stared at the ground sheepishly, hand coming to rub at the back of his neck.

Keith stood stock still, heart picking up pace. He could scarcely compute the kid’s words. Lance sick? He shook his head. No, it must be some mistake. Then he stiffened. Lance had been really quiet at break, unnaturally so. Then it all seemed to make sense.

Unbeknownst to Keith, his class of juniors were extremely interested in the current discussion and craned their necks to hear what was going on. Eric smirked and his classmates took note of their teacher’s tense body posture. No boyfriend, eh? They had just been shown the evidence.

Without a word he ran past Jasper and left behind a satisfied classroom and one very petrified freshman who looked owlishly at the juniors. Eric, taking into account how small and scared he looked and with a gentleness that surprised even himself, offered to get him back to class.

The corridors seemed to be never ending and it took everything Lance had not to give up and collapse on the floor. Everything was so warm, his head drumming unpleasantly and stomach churning. It hurt to think and once his vision went haywire, so much so that he couldn’t see where he was going.

Upon reaching the teacher’s bathrooms, he entered the men’s and launched himself towards the sink area. Gripping the faux marble countertop, he swayed and almost felt the need to throw up, but managed to contain it — for now.

Clumsily gripping a tap, he twisted it, little strength available to him and feeling too dizzy to control it. Once water came out, cool and fresh, he shakily sloshed some on his face and reached around blindly for a towel. Water had managed to get onto his clothes and trickle down his neck, but he was beyond caring.

He whined when the search for the towel caused an ache to form in his stomach and it gurgled uncomfortably. Finally dropping to the floor, he buried his pounding head in his knees and wrapped his shaking arms around his waist.

He wanted Keith.

Keith had been running around like a madman, trying his utter best to find his missing boyfriend. A heavy feeling of dread filled his lungs and he almost felt like he was choking. His boyfriend was sick and he had had a student tell him that. He had noticed how strange his boyfriend had been acting, but he hasn’t asked.

He ran a hand through his dark hair and bit the inside of his cheeks, face a mask of worry and almost a sense of terror. His eyes darted around and hr tried to think. Where would Lance go? His dull eyes brightened and he looked up from his wallowing. He knew where.

When he had opened the bathroom door, he had expected to see Lance passed out, dead and anything in between that. What he didn’t expect was to find him curled up in a ball on the tiles, the tap still running.

Lance didn’t notice he had arrived at first, but eventually he raised his head and Keith met with droopy, feverish eyes and flushed cheeks. Lance was pale and he shuddered, as if he were cold. Hair was plastered to his forehead and his mouth was dry and chapped.

“Keith?” He looked confused, but then his expression brightened and even when sick like this, Keith couldn’t help but think he was cute.

Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, Keith eased him up gently only to find himself being shoved away. Lance threw up in the sink, the little breakfast he had being the only thing to come up.

He couldn’t seem to stop and the retching continued, Keith patting his back and brushing his hair away from his sweaty forehead. He hacked until his throat was raw and felt like it had been cleaned by sandpaper. Tears sprang into his eyes and a sob escaped him when Keith washed his face clean, feeling so pathetic and utterly miserable.

The support of the sink no longer there, Lance would have fallen if Keith had not caught him. He caught him gently about the waist and they slowly sank down to the floor together, until he was practically sitting on his lap. His back was to Keith’s chest and the tears would not stop.

Keith wiped away every tear, hushing and murmuring kind words in his ears. He rubbed his hands up and down Lance’s arms as he shivered and took in the heat emanating from his body with growing concern. The sobs made him convulse and he shook, body wracked with the force of them.

After a while, he began to hiccup and the tears gradually ceased. Lance wearily sank against Keith, body spent with his ordeal. Keith pressed his cheek to Lance’s and embraced him.

“Let’s get you home, Lance.”

Keith carried Lance outside to their car bridal style, unaware of the noses pressed to the windows of his classroom or of the clicking of cameras.

In the car, Keith strapped him in, careful not to jostle him too much and pushed his hair back off his forehead. Lance nuzzled against his cold hands and smiled, eyes looking at him dreamily, though rimmed red from crying.

“I love you.”

Keith chuckled and slammed the door behind him. Once he was in his seat, he turned to him and said, “I love you too.” Lance leant his head against the window pane, completely satisfied and content and almost forgot for a moment that he was sick.

Once back at their apartment, Keith helped Lance inside and brought him to the couch, where he could see him and do things at the same time. As if he were a child, he dressed Lance in pajamas and pressed a kiss to his damp hair.

“Wait and I’ll get you some medicine and water.” He entered the kitchen and Lance watched him for a while, head lying on the armrest.

Then he spoke up, voice cracked and grating to the ears. “Then can we watch something. Together, I mean.”

Keith smiled and looked over, his face brighter than anything else in the world. “Anything for you.”

Lance stuck out his tongue in disgust. “You’re sickening.”

“Pretty sure you’re the one that has the sickness here and the actual power to make me catch it.”

Keith was soon back and Lance downed the two pills. He felt a little better, the pounding having muted. Keith knew he was feeling better enough to give him a snarky answer.

Lance cuddled up next to Keith, head resting on his chest tiredly. He turned over and pecked his cheek gently, face apologetic. “I’m sorry if I worried you.”

Keith looked down at Lance, face so beautiful even in this state and leant his cheek on his sandy locks, turning slightly to press another kiss to his head. “Just don’t do it again. I think Jasper died.”

“He’ll live.”

“Whatever you say, darling.”

“Yeah, you really shouldn’t.”

“Shouldn’t what?”

“Divorce me. I know all your secrets, Keith Kogane.”

“I wasn’t the one crying in the bathroom after throwing up in the sink.”

“… Good point.”

“I can’t divorced you anyway.”

“Why not?”

“Because I love you too much.”

“So do I, angel.”

i love skinner from x files he’s such a good character and i especially love how he’s just like. so consistently There for mulder and scully and yet every time he has to work within the system to help them out and has to be discreet about it they fly off the handle

skinner: i’m sorry guys, i can’t help you *wink*

mulder and scully, outraged: OH MY GOD I CANT BELIEVE THIS SIR DONT YOU WANT THE TRUTH

skinner: guys… i Can’t. Help. You. *furiously winking and gesturing to where the smoking man is literally sitting in the corner of the room listening to the conversation*

mulder and scully, absolutely incensed: SIR I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU WOULD BETRAY US LIKE THIS

The things POTs say when they’re trying so hard not to pay!

The allowance talk is so uncomfortable for a lot of SBs, especially those who are just starting out. When it comes to talking money, many SBs feel awkward or shy; they don’t want to come off like “gold diggers” or “too hungry for the money” or they think it is unseemly to discuss the subject to directly.  First, please realize that cheap ass salts are counting on you to feel this way and will use every opportunity to make it more difficult for you!  You need to get to the point where you can be comfortably and confidently direct about talking money and to pay very close attention to the vibes and responses you are receiving from the POT as you do so!

But, the “allowance talk” is never a one-way conversation!  The POT is going to respond to you and, if he is not a serious SD, there are going to be telltale signs based solely on the language that he uses and the things that he says. Salts and other cheapskates are pathological when it comes to this and they automatically resort to the same “maneuvers” every single time!  When you are experienced, it will actually make you laugh (or cringe) when he uses one of those “patented” lines.

As you start that unavoidable “allowance talk” with a POT, keep one very important thing in mind: Remind yourself what you are looking for!  You are looking for a SD, a gentleman who wants the same thing as you – an arrangement that is fair to both sides.  A true SD has been down this road before, and, although he may be a good or tough negotiator, he is not going to try to negotiate you into a ridiculous deal.  A Salt, on the other hand, is never willing to negotiate anything other than a ridiculous deal.  And, remember this, no matter how good you are with your game, it is no fun and it is not rewarding to try to con a con man.  That is simply a waste of time, and you are better off using that time to find someone worth your time!

To aid you in your quest, I have put together a list of some of the things POTs say when they’re trying so hard not to pay!  

The “Scientist” POT

Arrangements are not science projects and very few POTs are legit scientists, but, there is a category of POT that wants you to believe that an allowance must be based on elements in the periodic table.  lol  So, if a POT says that he is willing to talk about allowances at some future date, but first he wants to make sure that there is “chemistry” between the two of you, he is telling you that he wants to fuck you first and pay you later, maybe.  Trust me, there may be “chemistry galore”, but don’t ever expect to hear from him again, and, if he does put some money in your hand afterwards, it is going to be an insulting amount.

The “Romantic” POT

I always laugh at the following ploy:  A guy on SA says to you:  I am really interested in an arrangement that involves physical intimacy and a deep emotional connection, but when you bring up allowance, he says, “hey, I don’t want this to feel transactional!”  He is trying to guilt you out of asking for money; he wants you to believe that an arrangement is something other than a basic “business, but fun, relationship” . He acts mortified and shocked – shocked I tell you – that you knock him out of his Romantic realm by bringing up the subject of money!  How dare you tarnish such a Beautiful Thing.  The fact of the matter is that he wants to fuck you silly and then give you a “rose” as a symbol of his undying feelings.  This guy is no knight in shining armor.

The “Puritan” POT

This loser is a close cousin of the “Romantic” POT.  He says that he doesn’t want to give you money for your time together because that would make you an Escort and him a John.  And, lordy, lordy, he does not walk to path of perdition!  He does not want to lead you into that Sin!  Instead, he wants to fuck you for hours (more time, by the way, that he could ever get an escort to spend with his sorry ass) and send you on the way with nothing more than pure thoughts.

The “Boyfriend” POT

This guy may be the cleverest of the bunch, but don’t be fooled!  He says, “I don’t do allowances, that is beneath me and you, instead, I like to “spoil” or “pamper you.”  He suggests that he wants to treat you like a “spoiled girlfriend”.  He may offer to take you on “shopping trips” or he may offer to pay “your bills” like your rent.  In other words, he wants to be in total control of how much he gives you and when and for what reason.  The only thing he asks in return is that he gets to fuck you as often and whenever he wants.  Trust me, it is a horrible deal.  

The “Doubting” POT

Much like “Doubting Thomas”, this POT is highly suspicious, at least when it comes to paying money to a SB for companionship.  In response to your request for a set allowance, he responds, “What am I going to get for that much money”, or “What’s in it for me?”  And, when you think about it, this guy is either clueless or a real piece of shit!  A real SD always knows what he is getting; he NEVER has to ask that question.  So, when you encounter a Doubting POT, run away; don’t waste your time! If he truly doesn’t know, why is he even on SA?  And why should you be the one to waste your precious time teaching him?

The “Race Car Driver” POT

This guy is truly insulting! He tells you that, before he parts with his “hard earned” cash, he wants to take you on a “test drive” first. And, when he says that, he doesn’t mean “go for a quick spin around the block and return to the dealer”, he means that you will have to spend hours with him, in bed, and, rest assured, he’s going to be shoving his “gear shift” into every “gear” he can find!  The “test drive” approach is really demeaning, and, if you respond to him with anything other than derision, shame on you!

The “Cautious Shopper” POT

The Cautious Shopper knows that he can’t get you in the same room without paying you money, so he’ll do the next best thing!  He insistw that you send him lots of nudes, lots of times.  He will text you endlessly.  He will set up dates and then cancel them.  He wants attention; he wants to make sure that you will satisfy all of his emotional neediness.  In other words, he is a photo collector and a time waster.  Don’t give him a “taste” of your delicious goods; you’ll be the one with a stomach ache after dealing with this joker!

The “Penny Pincher” POT

This guy is the true Salt. His first offer will be outrageously low, $100 a meet and each meet involves at least three hours and two or more “pops”.  If you actually waste your time and counter him with an amount you believe is reasonable, he will “bump” his offer by $50, add an hour to his time requirement and demand a third “pop” for his largesse.  Or, if he is a little more “clever”, he will resort to one of the approaches listed above!   It never ends with these guys!  They are relentless!

Do not waste your time on guys like this! You are never going to be successful in transforming these guys into a good SD (and, believe me, many SBs before you have already tried and failed!).  This is by no means a complete list!  And, if you have encountered a POT with a different but equally nasty “theme”, please feel free to add to my list!  

Update!  Check out MORE of the things POTs say when they’re trying so hard not to pay!  (Part II) for additional “POT” types!

Fic: Creeper

Summary: Dan and Phil meet for the first time
Word Count: 1,869
Rating: G
Tags: 2009 Phan, Fluff, First Meeting, Awkwardness
Author’s Note: This fic was inspired by how simultaneously provocative and innocent Dan seems in the “AmazingDan” video (even though that wasn’t filmed until 2010). Combine that with how young he was and his constant insistence that he is painfully awkward, and I thought his first meeting with Phil probably wasn’t as instantly easy as most fics portray it.

[Chronological list of all fic posts in the Creeper series]


Creeper

Phil hunches his shoulders a bit, not exactly hiding behind a pillar but just standing … really close to a pillar. And maybe a little behind it. Just a bit. But definitely not hiding. Definitely not hiding like some creeper waiting to meet up with a teenage boy he met on the Internet.

He’s never done this before, actually arranging to meet one of his subscribers in real life. Dan has become more than just a subscriber to him over the past few months, of course, but he can’t deny that the … relationship? friendship? … began with Dan stalking his videos and hounding him on Twitter like so many other subscribers had done before. Phil’s had plenty of admirers as his subscriber base grew over the years, and a lot of them flirted with him, some outright propositioned him, but he was never tempted to take any of them up on their offers.

It’s just … Dan is … different.

But Phil can’t deny the power imbalance. He knows he’s a well-known personality, even if only in a limited little sphere of the Internet. His YouTube channel has thousands of subscribers. Tens of thousands. He gets fan mail. Lots of it. Weird as it sounds to him sometimes, he has … fans.

And Dan is one of them.

And he’s only 18.

And Phil, AmazingPhil from the Internet, has invited this teenage fan to come stay at his house. Overnight. For three days. While his parents are away.

Yeah, it sounds creepy. Which makes him incredibly self-conscious. What in the world do Dan’s parents think about this? Phil hasn’t asked, because he doesn’t want to mess this up.

Because, despite the power imbalance, he’s really excited and nervous to meet Dan.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Omg can you do a Drabble of the boy squad finally finding out that Isak was with Even eating cheese toasties and smoking weed instead of going to Emma's party/pregame? Because if love to see that

Hello anon!! Here you go!! It borderlines on absolute crack so fair warning!! But also- I do love some teasing.

———–

Magnus is giving them weird looks.

Isak half wants to shrink away, but the other half wants to hit the boy upside the head and tell him to let Isak drink is soda in peace. Jesus fucking Christ, this kid. Jonas and Mahdi seemed pre-occupied as well, glancing between Isak and Even and then Magnus and finally at each other like some conspiracy that Isak is not yet apart of. 

Even seems undisturbed, meeting Magnus’s gaze every time and raising his eyebrows in challenge.

Finally Magnus cracks.

“When did you two first…” he trails off with a suggestive look.

Isak is going to choke. Maybe on his soda- or maybe he’ll reach across the table and choke the giant blonde fuck he calls a friend. 

“I fucking know you’re not asking about Even and my’s sex life.”

Magnus reels back in horror, “No! Fucking no! Well- not that I’d be opposed to hearing about it-”

“Magnus, I swear to god-

“-I just wanted to know when you two first started hanging out!”

“Kossegruppa,” Even says smoothly, stealing a sip of Isak’s coke before wrinkling his nose and giving it back. “First met at the Kossegruppa thing.”

“Eh,” Isak cocks his head, slapping Mahdi’s hands away when they reach out to snag his soda, “Get your fucking own. Um- I don’t consider the day when you felt up the towel machine when we first started hanging out.”

Even looks scandalized, “That was a smooth move that got your attention.”

“So would have a “hey- I’m Even I don’t think we’ve met?”

“Nope,” Even grins and waggles his eyebrows, “I like our story better.”

Jonas takes a fry and chews carefully, “So you guys met at Kossegruppa and just decided to bang?”

“Crass fucker. There was more to it than that. I asked Even to buy me beer and then we hung out and smoked. That’s when I decided that I’d like to bang him.”

Even rolls his eyes, but doesn’t protest the narrative.

“What the fuck- when did Even buy you beer? And why the fuck didn’t you get us any?”

“Oh yeah whoops,” Isak adjusted his snap back and looked at the lunch table, “The beer was originally for you guys… for the pre-game at Emma’s.”

Mahdi’s eyes narrowed, “The one that you said was cancelled even though it was not cancelled?”

Isak shrugged, “Whoops?”

Jonas started laughing, “Dude you ditched us and the girls to seduce Even?”

Isak cringes, “Can we not use that fucking word? And yeah- it was kind of shitty. My bad.”

Magnus groaned, “I had to sit at home and watch fucking Family Guy while you got it on with that hunk?”

That hunk winks at Magnus, but sobers up with Isak’s sour expression, “Not quite.”

Even throws a casual arm around Isak’s shoulders, using his thumb to rub circles on the sliver of skin between his shirt and where the ends of his hair curled. “Sonja and her friends actually came over not long after. And then Isak left. Not seduction of any sort.”

Jonas crunched loudly on a chip, “Yikes.”

Mahdi shrugged, “Karma man. It’s a bitch.”

Magnus considered, “Okay but like, when did you guys sleep together for the fist time?”

Isak stood up from the lunch table, grabbing Even’s hand, “Alright well it’s been fun but we have places to be that are not here. Bye guys. Magnus, you suck.”

He hears the boys outrageous laughter even as he and Even make their escape.

anonymous asked:

what do u think of the new Rodrick for the new Diary of a Wimpy Kid movie

dude i havent consciously thought about diary of a wimpy kid in like a year

im looking him up rn


why did you send me this ask i thought he would be outrageously hot

he kinda looks like this guy i dated in middle school

i get why theyre having a whole new cast but this is such a downgrade what the fuck

ok for everyones convenience:

old rodrick, from like??? 2011??? or something

i think he wears eyeliner in one scene 7/10 would smash

new rodrick. why/10

a few relatable asoue characters to me
  • lemony snicket (messy personality, depression, hoards typewriters in a shed on monty’s grounds)
  • beatrice (messy, good hair, loves the baudelaire children, broke up with a guy via 200 page letter)
  • bertrand (deserves more than his outrageous and scandalous group of friends, loves them anyway, watches soap operas with a baby)
  • jacques (really loves lemony snicket but is so…….fucking tired)
  • kit (very susceptible to gaslighting)
  • monty (loves snakes, bad taste in movies)
  • sunny baudelaire (likes to chew on things, youngest and smartest sibling)
  • incredibly deadly viper (very beautiful, not there for most of the exciting things)
  • jerome (coward, bad taste in women good taste in men, Married After Only One Evening Together)
May I Interest You in an Apology Muffin?

Sadly, I don’t remember who reblogged this prompt and brought it to my attention. The original source is here, though.

Sterek, T, 1.5K words

‘i didn’t want to tell my friend who my real date last night was so i just pointed at a random stranger (you) but now they’re storming over to interrogate you and you’re playing along??? okay’ au


“Tell me, tell me, tell me,” Scott chanted, and Stiles rolled his eyes.

“No,” he hissed, scooting his chair closer. “And be quiet, people are looking at us.”

“Fine,” Scott sighed. “Then if you won’t tell me who it was, why was the date so bad?”

“He was rude,” Stiles said, which was not a lie. “He was late and just kind of a dick.”

Scott frowned at him. “Sorry, man, that sucks.”

“Yeah, story of my life, right?”

Scott nodded solemnly, full of the appropriate bro-sympathy. “So who was it?” he blurted out.

Stiles groaned and scrubbed a hand through his hair.

Honestly? He’d gone out with this guy that Scott knew, some super-hot water polo player from his econ class that Scott had done a project with. Scott had warned Stiles off of him, repeatedly, because he was apparently a big jerk who couldn’t even make his share of the PowerPoint slides. But Stiles didn’t listen, and he said yes when the guy had asked him out. Annnd he was just as terrible as Scott said. Stiles just wasn’t in the mood for Scott’s I-told-you-sos.

“No,” he emphasized. “I’m not telling you.”

“Why not?” he said, with a little pout.

Stiles screamed a little inside his head and took a glance around the coffee shop, trying to think of a diversion. “Because he’s here,” he hissed, and Scott’s eyes widened as he craned his neck.

“Wait, seriously? Who is it? C’mon, just tell me.”

“Uh…,” Stiles said, buying for time while he looked around as surreptitiously as possible. “That guy over there,” he whispered finally, jerking his chin toward the dark-haired guy three tables over, a guy so hot that Stiles’ only chance with him would most definitely be in an imaginary scenario.

Scott looked over his shoulder at the guy and got that determined glint in his eye that Stiles recognized, just about three seconds too late. Scott was gonna do something that he thought was heroic but was actually dumb.

“Scott!” he hissed, grabbing for his backpack and nearly knocking over their coffee cups in his haste to follow him. “Oh, holy shit.”

“Hey!” Scott said, tapping the guy’s shoulder and jerking his thumb over his shoulder at Stiles. “Why were you such a jerk to my friend on your date last night?”

Keep reading

Oeuvre: The Introduction

Josh Dun Series

Summary: An English Literature Major crosses paths with an Arts Major. They can‘t help but instantly get captured by each other‘s auras. 

(A/N): Hello party people, let me introduce you to my new series. The following official chapters will have the word count of 2k at the bare minimum, meaning the writing process will extend. I hope you guys will remain patient with me, enjoy x 

Word Count: 1,435

Every Saturday you return to the library to avoid witnessing the uncomfortable sexual affection between your roommate and some random stranger she has stumbled upon. Some people would identify her as a so called ‘crowd pleaser‘, but she justifies herself with the female equivalent of philanderer. 

Nonetheless, to cherish the time at the bibliotheca sounds more like a treat to you. The serene atmosphere and the sense of satisfaction of neatly lined up books on row after row are two of the things, that make savouring a novel even more delightful. Perhaps even the puncturing noise of a page being turned appears pleasant in these four walls. Usually, this place is scrammed with undergraduates doing researches and collecting informations, tutors and students and occasional club gatherings. Then again, not everyone enjoys the library as much as you do, to pass away half of their weekend here.  

A fair amount of the earth‘s population connects any kind of books repository with spider webs weaving loosely around dirtied furnitures, entwined wires that were embedded into the cracked ceiling, a littered ground and dust collected everywhere as well as floating leisurely in the air. Clearly, you cannot comprehend each person‘s encounters. On the other hand, Kate Angell used to say, ‘Outer beauty attracts, but inner beauty captivates.‘ A book might appeal to you by the alluring design of its cover, yet the story is what mesmerise you. At this point, your love for literature may have you reading between the lines. 

Setting one foot into the familiar room, you immediately stop in your tracks as your eyes land on a guy at your regular seat. He‘s sitting with his back towards you, so it seems impossible to catch a glimpse of his face. Not one single conspicuous feature is visible for you unmask the stranger. You curl your fingers up into a ball and take a deep breath, in such a way that prompts you to take further steps towards the table. Slowly, you commence to acknowledge the  painting supplies, that are carelessly scattered on the wooden surface. The unknown person appears to be genuinely preoccupied with whatever he‘s working on, since he hasn‘t noticed your presence. 

Suddenly, his hand sloppily reaches out to a cup filled with dirty water and knocks over a water bottle, whose lid has already been removed, at the same time. However, the man is obviously not paying any attention to the mishap, which is about to occur in just a fraction of a second. Therefore, your first instinct is to get a hold of the beverage to prevent it from falling. 

Your sudden act instantly captures the guy‘s attention and causes him to nearly fall off the chair. After putting the lid on the bottle, to avoid another wet incident, you turn around to the anonymous person. 

Your heart stops and the air gets caught in your throat the moment your eyes meet. Frankly, he‘s breathtaking. There‘s doubtlessly a chance that you‘ve crossed paths before. 

Resisting the temptation of questioning the presumption your mind has made up, you spot the paint water cup, which is being held dangerously close to his mouth. “I‘d suggest you not consuming that.“ you indicate

Noticing his water bottle still in your tight grip, you quickly put it on the table. “Sorry, I didn‘t intend to impose.“ 

His deer in the headlights look swiftly vanishes and a smile plasters on his face. “No need to apologise. I believe that you just saved me from drinking out of my dirty water cup and wet the library‘s carpet“ the guy tells you while rubbing a hand against his forehead. His sleep deprived eyes and slouching posture gives you the impression that he has spent the whole night here. 

“Wait! I didn‘t mean it like that!“ he quickly adds, after realising what just came out of his mouth. 

You stifle a giggle and pull out a chair to take a seat. “You‘re welcome.“ While opening your beloved book, you could feel his gaze following every move of yours. The second you lay eyes on the page in front of you, the nameless person starts talking. 

“(Y/N) is it, right?“ he asks nonchalantly. 

Surprised by the fact that he actually recognises you, a feeling of guilt arises in you for not knowing his name. A hint of glee comes within, since it also implies that the both of you have bumped into each other in the past. Letting go of the thought, you give him a nod in response. 

“I knew you look familiar.“, he states, “I‘m going to head to the coffee machine, you want something?“

“I‘m good, thank you for asking.“ you decline and your focus returns to the novel, which you have not been able to read. Thereupon, a wave of relief washes over you the moment he excuses himself to leave, even if it‘s only for five minutes. 

“Please? See it as a kind gesture for saving me from poisoning myself earlier.“ he pleads with the best puppy eyes he could pull off. 

Exhaling loudly, you give in. No human being has ever died from two cups of caffeine in the morning, right? “Black with one sugar would be great.“

“Your request in my command.“ he bows in front of you and hurries into the halls. 

You shake your head while softly chuckling at his childish manner. Unexpectedly, an unparalleled water painting on the table captures your interest. Standing onto your feet, you wander around to your usual seat to have a better look at the canvas. You jaw slightly drops as your eyes slowly take in every brushstroke. You‘re no longer skeptical about his drained state. Your mind is now overflowing with questions concerning the process of creating such an art piece. Not wanting to be intrusive, you restrain yourself and aim your attention at your book.

Minutes past and before you know it, the guy is approaching the table with two cups of coffee in both of his hands. Doubting that you‘ll be capable of concentrating on any chapter further with your new companion, you unwillingly put the novel aside.

“There you go.“

Wrapping your hands around the hot beverage you let a sigh escape your lips. “Thank you.“

“Anytime, what are you reading?“, he asks and plops down in his chair, “The Great Gatsby“ he continues, answering his own question after throwing a look at the title.

“It‘s a classic.“ you smile, taking a sip of your drink. 

The man leans back in his seat and brings the cup of coffee to his mouth. “I‘ve never heard of it before“

His statement causes you to stare at him in utter disbelief. “Are you joking?“ you exclaim. 

“I‘m serious!“ he admits, also raising his voice.

Just before you could reply, the librarian interrupts your conversation due to the outrageous volume. Dodging any type of argumentation, the guy sitting across from you changes the topic.  

“Anyway, what‘s your major?“ he whispers, knowing that you guys are temporarily being watched. 

“English literature“ you respond. 

“Should have seen that coming“ 

You roll your eyes at his remark, it is certainly not the first time someone has claimed that. “It‘s pretty predictable, I‘m aware“, you tell him, “And you‘re majoring in Arts I assume?“

Instead of giving you an answer, he nods his head hesitantly and darts an uptight glance at the canvas while biting his lip. 

“It‘s a phenomenal painting.“ you say, offering him a smile. 

He doesn‘t react but dozes off for good five seconds and opens his mouth to speak again. “Listen (Y/N), this may sound pretty odd considering that we‘ve just met, but I got this assignment the other day, god this is awkward“, he stammers, “Basically, I have to paint a portrait of someone and I was wondering if you would be willing to be that person?“ 

He has caught you completely off guard with that question, because indeed, it sounds pretty odd coming from a guy that you‘ve known for less than an hour. “You want to paint a portrait of me?“ 

“Sorry, I shouldn‘t have asked that-“

“It‘d be an honour.“ You get struck by a twinge of concussion as those words escape your mouth. “But only under one condition, promise me to read this book“ you challenge, pushing your own copy of ‘The Great Gatsby‘ towards the man.

He goes back to biting his lips reluctantly while examining the object in his hand. “Fine, I promise. If that is what it costs to work with you. Would you mind if we start next week right away?“

“That can be arranged.“ 

Other writings / scribbles//

Ship Appreciation: Levi & Mikasa

So I’m a multishipper, and one of the many ships I love is the relationship between Mikasa and Levi, whether it be romantic, familial, mentor/protege, etc. Normally I go to @canon-rivamika for everything Levi and Mikasa, but I decided to try something myself! I was pretty down about the anime’s treatment of Mikasa in the episode that aired today, episode 28, so I decided to cheer myself up by publishing early part of a ship appreciation series I’ve been writing.

Here I look at my favorite Levi and Mikasa moment so far: Chapter 30, when they rescue Eren. Originally I was gonna analyze their relationship all the way up to my second favorite rivamika moment, Chapter 84, but I guess I’ll take it in smaller chunks!

Beneath the cut, my EXTREMELY. LONG. rambling about how much I love Mikasa, and how much I love her relationship with Levi. (In that order, eheheh.)

Keep reading

i was looking for average numbers on how many pages a stapler can staple and everyone on this forum is really into office supplies

and half of this forum is just guys listing outrageous things they stapled

400 page stack… that you stapled…

and theres also general stapler discussion in this thread

Kisses (Harry Potter Boys)

Harry:

The two of you had been sitting in the common room in near silence, trying to avoid the awkward conversation that was bound to come as your so called friend had decided to tell the boy who lived that you were crushing on him. You wouldn’t exactly say the Harry was your best friend but the two of you had been close since your first year. Now everything felt just a little different and you weren’t quite sure if it was a good different or a bad one.

(Y/N)?” Harry asked. The room was silent aside from the crackle of the fire which you had trained your eyes on. You turned to look at the dark haired boy, specks dancing in your vision from watching the flames.

“Yeah?” You replied, your voice equally as timid as his had been. You didn’t want to look him in the eye, too afraid of his reaction. In a heartbeat, you felt his lips meet yours, more gentle than you would have imagined. Before you could say a word about what had just happened, Harry stood up.

“It’s getting late. You should rest, we have classes in the morning. Sweet dreams, (Y/N).”


Ron:

You had been friends with the Weasley family for years now and quite recently, you and Ron had begun to date. Now, you were spending a week at the Burrow so your parents could have a nice week, an anniversary gift from you to them. As of now, you and the Weasley kids were playing a rather heated game of Quidditch and you and Ron had been set as chasers against each other, Your team had won, thanks to Ginny and everyone returned to the ground. You cheered and lovingly mocked the opposing team.

“You think you’re so great.” Ron replied miserably, although you f all people knew that he wasn’t actually upset. You decided to play along, popping out your hip and crossing your arms.

“I don’t think I’m so great. I know it.” you replied, balancing your weight against your broom. You should have been expecting something bad to happen. Ginny kicked your broom out from under your arm forcing you to fall. In the blink of an eye, Ron had stopped your fall. Nobody in his family had been told of your relationship yet but now, judging by the blush on your cheeks and the possessive way he held you you knew you couldn’t keep it hidden too much longer. Ron gave a slight shrug before leaning to connect your lips in a kiss. The sweet affection was only made that much better by the exclamations from Ron’s brothers and sister.


Draco:

You and Draco had been dating for quite a while. People ever expected that as the two of you were quite different. Still, you didn’t mind. When Draco was around you, he tended to be kinder and generally a better person.The day had gotten rather boring as your boyfriend was busy with Quidditch practice so you’d sat yourself in the stands with a couple other people who had decided to watch the practice.

You were talking with a dark haired Slytherin boy. You brushed off his attempts a flirting effortlessly. You had Draco and he was more than you ever wanted so when this underclassman tried to get you instead, it was beyond easy to turn him away. Of course from the air, Draco couldn’t see anything but a dumb guy flirting with his everything. Despite outraged shouts from his teammates, he marched himself up to where you were deep in conversation with your friend.

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” Draco snapped, though not at you. You drew your eyes between them and you could practically feel the tension in the air.

“Draco. It’s alright.” You insisted, placing a hand on his arm. You feel the muscles under his arm relax a little. “Don’t worry about him.” The words came out soothing but he knew that they were an order.

Draco took a step back, looking between you and the younger boy before tugging you against his chest and pressing a hard kiss to your lips. Your arms slide up to hang around his shoulders.

After a moment of heated kissing, he lets go, his eyes trained on the other boy who still seemed to be in shock.“I’ll see you after practice, (Y/N).”

~~~~~~~~~~

I know! This was honestly so bad and I apologize but the idea came to me at about 3:30am and I just had to write it so here it is! I might add a part two with Neville, Fred, and George and a female one with Hermione, Ginny, and Luna so if you have someone you want me to add, shoot me an ask and I will see what I can do. Requests are always open! -Cass